This chapter opens with Israel's magnificent song of triumph on the
shore of the Red Sea, when they had seen "that great work which the
Lord did upon the Egyptians." They had seen God's salvation, and they
therefore sing His praise and recount His mighty acts. "_Then_ sang
Moses and the children of Israel this song unto the Lord." Up to this
moment, we have not heard so much as a single note of praise. We have
heard their cry of deep sorrow as they toiled amid the brick-kilns of
Egypt, we have hearkened to their cry of unbelief when surrounded by
what they deemed insuperable difficulties, but, until now, we have
heard no song of praise. It was not until, as a saved people, they
found themselves surrounded by the fruits of God's salvation, that the
triumphal hymn burst forth from the whole redeemed assembly. It was
when they emerged from their significant baptism "in the cloud and in
the sea," and were able to gaze upon the rich spoils of victory which
lay scattered around them, that six hundred thousand voices were heard
chanting the song of victory. The waters of the Red Sea rolled between
them and Egypt, and they stood on the shore as a fully delivered
people, and therefore they were able to praise Jehovah.
In this, as in everything else, they were our types. We, too, must
know ourselves as saved, in the power of death and resurrection,
before ever we can present clear and intelligent worship. There will
always be reserve and hesitancy in the soul, proceeding, no doubt,
from positive inability to enter into the accomplished redemption
which is in Christ Jesus. There may be the acknowledgment of the fact
that there is salvation in Christ, and in none other; but this is a
very different thing from apprehending, by faith, the true character
and ground of that salvation, and realizing it as _ours_. The Spirit
of God reveals, with unmistakable clearness, in the Word, that the
Church is united to Christ in death and resurrection; and, moreover,
that a risen Christ, at God's right hand, is the measure and pledge of
the Church's acceptance. When this is believed, it conducts the soul
entirely beyond the region of doubt and uncertainty. How can the
Christian doubt when he knows that he is continually represented
before the throne of God by an Advocate, even "Jesus Christ the
righteous"? It is the privilege of the very feeblest member of the
Church of God to know that he was represented by Christ on the
cross,--that _all_ his sins were confessed, borne, judged, and atoned
for there. This is a divine reality, and, when laid hold of by faith,
must give peace; but nothing short of it ever can give peace. There
may be earnest, anxious, and most sincere desires after God,--there
may be the most pious and devout attendance upon all the ordinances,
offices, and forms of religion; but there is no other possible way in
which to get the sense of sin entirely removed from the conscience,
but seeing it judged in the Person of Christ, as a sin-offering, on
the cursed tree. If it was judged there once for all, it is now by the
believer to be regarded as a divinely, and therefore eternally,
settled question; and that it was so judged is proved by the
resurrection of the Surety. "I know that whatsoever God doeth it shall
be forever: nothing can be put to it nor anything taken from it: and
God doeth it that men should fear before Him." (Ecc. iii. 14.)
However, while it is generally admitted that all this is true in
reference to the Church collectively, many find considerable
difficulty in making a personal application thereof. They are ready to
say, with the Psalmist, "Truly, God is good to Israel, even to such as
are of a clean heart. _But as for me_," etc. (Ps. lxxiii. 1, 2.) They
are looking at themselves instead of at Christ in death and Christ in
resurrection; they are occupied rather with their appropriation of
Christ than with Christ Himself; they are thinking of their capacity
rather than their title. Thus they are kept in a state of the most
distressing uncertainty, and, as a consequence, they are never able to
take the place of happy, intelligent worshipers. They are praying for
salvation instead of rejoicing in the conscious possession of it; they
are looking at their imperfect fruits instead of Christ's perfect
atonement.
Now in looking through the various notes of this song in Exodus xv, we
do not find a single note about _self_, its doings, its sayings, its
feelings, or its fruits; it is all about Jehovah, from beginning to
end. It begins with, "I will sing unto the Lord, for _He_ hath
triumphed gloriously: the horse and his rider hath _He_ thrown into
the Sea." This is a specimen of the entire song. It is a simple record
of the attributes and actings of Jehovah. In chapter xiv, the hearts
of the people had, as it were, been pent up by the excessive pressure
of their circumstances; but in chapter xv, the pressure is removed,
and their hearts find full vent in a sweet song of praise. Self is
forgotten; circumstances are lost sight of; one object, and but one,
fills their vision, and that object is the Lord Himself, in His
character and ways. They were able to say, "Thou, Lord, hast made me
glad through Thy work; I will triumph in the works of Thy hands." (Ps.
xcii. 4.) This is true worship. It is when poor, worthless self, with
all its belongings, is lost sight of, and Christ alone fills the
heart, that we present proper worship. There is no need for the
efforts of a fleshly pietism to awaken in the soul feelings of
devotion; nor is there any demand whatever for the adventitious
appliances of religion, so called, to kindle in the soul the flame of
acceptable worship. Oh, no! Let but the heart be occupied with the
Person of Christ, and "songs of praise" will be the natural result. It
is impossible for the eye to rest on Him and the spirit not be bowed
in holy worship. If we contemplate the worship of the hosts which
surround the throne of God and the Lamb, we shall find that it is ever
evoked by the presentation of some special feature of divine
excellence or divine acting. Thus should it be with the Church on
earth; and when it is not so, it is because we allow things to intrude
upon us which have no place in the regions of unclouded light and
unalloyed blessedness. In all true worship, God Himself is at once the
object of worship, the subject of worship, and the power of worship.
Hence Exodus xv. is a fine specimen of a song of praise. It is the
language of a redeemed people celebrating the worthy praise of Him who
had redeemed them. "The Lord is my strength and song, and He is become
my salvation: He is my God, and I will prepare Him a habitation; my
father's God, and I will exalt Him. The Lord is a man of war: the Lord
is His name.... Thy right hand, O Lord, is become glorious in power:
Thy right hand, O Lord, hath dashed in pieces the enemy.... Who is
like unto Thee, O Lord, among the gods? who is like Thee, glorious in
holiness, fearful in praises, doing wonders?... Thou in Thy mercy hast
led forth the people which Thou hast redeemed: Thou hast guided them
in Thy strength unto Thy holy habitation.... The Lord shall reign
forever and ever." How comprehensive is the range of this song! It
begins with redemption and ends with the glory. It begins with the
cross and ends with the kingdom. It is like a beauteous rainbow, of
which one end dips in "the sufferings," and the other in "the glory
that should follow." It is all about Jehovah. It is an outpouring of
soul produced by a view of God and His gracious and glorious actings.
Moreover, it does not stop short of the actual accomplishment of the
divine purpose, as we read, "Thou _hast guided_ them in Thy strength
unto Thy holy habitation." The people were able to say this, though
they had but just planted their foot on the margin of the desert. It
was not the expression of a vague hope,--it was not feeding upon poor,
blind chance. Oh, no! When the soul is wholly occupied with God, it is
enabled to launch out into all the fullness of His grace, to bask in
the sunshine of His countenance, and delight itself in the rich
abundance of His mercy and loving-kindness. There is not a cloud upon
the prospect when the believing soul, taking its stand upon the
eternal rock on which redeeming love has set it in association with a
risen Christ, looks up into the spacious vault of God's infinite
plans and purposes, and dwells upon the effulgence of that glory which
God has prepared for all those who have washed their robes and made
them white in the blood of the Lamb.
This will account for the peculiarly brilliant, elevated, and
unqualified character of all those bursts of praise which we find
throughout sacred Scripture. The creature is set aside: God is the
object. He fills the entire sphere of the soul's vision. There is
nothing of man, his feelings, or his experiences, and therefore the
stream of praise flows copiously and uninterruptedly forth. How
different is this from some of the hymns we so often hear sung in
Christian assemblies, so full of our failings, our feebleness, our
shortcomings. The fact is, we can never sing with real, spiritual
intelligence and power when we are looking at ourselves. We shall ever
be discovering something within which will act as a drawback to our
worship. Indeed, with many, it seems to be accounted a Christian grace
to be in a continual state of doubt and hesitation; and, as a
consequence, their hymns are quite in character with their condition.
Such persons, however sincere and pious, have never yet, in the actual
experience of their souls, entered upon the proper ground of worship.
They have not yet got done with themselves,--they have not passed
through the sea, and, as a spiritually baptized people, taken their
stand on the shore, in the power of resurrection. They are still, in
some way or another, occupied with self: they do not regard self as a
crucified thing, with which God is forever done.
May the Holy Ghost lead all God's people into fuller, clearer, and
worthier apprehensions of their place and privilege as those who,
being washed from their sins in the blood of Christ, are presented
before God in all that infinite and unclouded acceptance in which He
stands, as the risen and glorified Head of His Church. Doubts and
fears do not become them, for their divine Surety has not left a
shadow of a foundation on which to build a doubt or a fear. Their
place is within the vail. They "have boldness to enter into the
holiest by the blood of Jesus." (Heb. x. 19.) Are there any doubts or
fears in the holiest? Is it not evident that a doubting spirit
virtually calls in question the perfectness of Christ's work--a work
which has been attested, in the view of all created intelligence, by
the resurrection of Christ from the dead? That blessed One could not
have left the tomb unless all ground of doubting and fearing had been
perfectly removed on behalf of His people. Wherefore it is the
Christian's sweet privilege ever to triumph in a full salvation. The
Lord Himself has become his salvation; and he has only to enjoy the
fruits of that which God has wrought for him, and to walk to His
praise while waiting for that time when "Jehovah shall reign forever
and ever."
But there is one note in this song to which I shall just invite my
reader's attention.--"He is my God, and I will prepare Him a
habitation." It is worthy of note that when the heart was full to
overflowing with the joy of redemption, it gives expression to its
devoted purpose in reference to "a habitation for God." Let the
Christian reader ponder this. God dwelling with man is a grand thought
pervading Scripture from Exodus xv. to Revelation. Hearken to the
following utterance of a devoted heart: "Surely I will not come into
the tabernacle of my house, nor go up into my bed; I will not give
sleep to mine eyes, nor slumber to mine eyelids, until I find out a
place for the Lord, _a habitation_ for the mighty God of Jacob." (Ps.
cxxxii. 3-5.) Again, "For the zeal of Thine house hath eaten me up."
(Ps. lxix. 9; John ii. 17.) I do not attempt to pursue this subject
here; but I would fain awaken such an interest concerning it in the
breast of my reader as shall lead him to pursue it, prayerfully, for
himself, from the very earliest notice of it in the Word until he
arrives at that soul-stirring announcement, "Behold, the tabernacle of
God is with men, and He will dwell with them, and they shall be His
people, and God Himself shall be with them, and be their God. And God
shall wipe away all tears from their eyes." (Rev. xxi. 3, 4.)
"So Moses brought Israel from the Red Sea; and they went out into the
wilderness of Shur: and they went three days into the wilderness and
found no water." (Ver. 22.) It is when we get into wilderness
experience that we are put to the test as to the real measure of our
acquaintance with God and with our own hearts. There is a freshness
and an exuberance of joy connected with the opening of our Christian
career, which very soon receives a check from the keen blast of the
desert; and then, unless there is a deep sense of what God is to us,
above and beyond everything else, we are apt to break down, and, "in
our hearts, turn back again into Egypt." The discipline of the
wilderness is needful, not to furnish us with a title to Canaan, but
to make us acquainted with God and with our own hearts; to enable us
to enter into the power of our relationship, and to enlarge our
capacity for the enjoyment of Canaan when we actually get there. (See
Deut. viii. 2-5.)
The greenness, freshness, and luxuriance of spring have peculiar
charms, which all pass away before the scorching heat of summer; but
then, with proper care, that very heat which removes the fair traces
of spring, produces the mellowed and matured fruits of autumn. Thus it
is also in the Christian life; for there is, as we know, a striking
and deeply instructive analogy between the principles which obtain in
the kingdom of nature and those which characterize the kingdom of
grace, seeing it is the same God whose handiwork meets our view in
both.
There are three distinct positions in which we may contemplate Israel,
namely, in Egypt, in the wilderness, and in the land of Canaan. In all
these, they are "our types;" but we are in all three together. This
may seem paradoxical, but it is true. As a matter of actual fact, we
are in Egypt, surrounded by natural things, which are entirely adapted
to the natural heart. But, inasmuch as we have been called by God's
grace into fellowship with His Son Jesus Christ, we, according to the
affections and desires of the new nature, necessarily find our place
outside of all that which belongs to Egypt[8] (_i.e._, the world in
its natural state), and this causes us to taste of wilderness
experience, or, in other words, it places us, as a matter of
experience, in the wilderness. The divine nature earnestly breathes
after a different order of things--after a purer atmosphere than that
with which we find ourselves surrounded, and thus it causes us to feel
Egypt to be a moral desert.
[8] There is a wide moral difference between Egypt and Babylon, which
it is important to understand. Egypt was that out of which Israel
came; Babylon was that into which they were afterwards carried. (Comp.
Amos v. 25-27 with Acts vii. 42, 43.) Egypt expresses what man has
made of the world; Babylon expresses what Satan has made, is making,
or will make, of the professing church. Hence, we are not only
surrounded with the _circumstances_ of Egypt, but also by the moral
_principles_ of Babylon.
This renders our "days" what the Holy Ghost has termed "perilous"
(χαλεποι--"difficult"). It demands a special energy of the Spirit of
God, and complete subjection to the authority of the Word, to enable
one to meet the combined influence of the realities of Egypt and the
spirit and principles of Babylon. The former meet the natural desires
of the heart; while the latter connect themselves with, and address
themselves to, the _religiousness_ of nature, which gives them a
peculiar hold upon the heart. Man is a religious being, and peculiarly
susceptible of the influences which arise from music, sculpture,
painting, and pompous rites and ceremonies. When these things stand
connected with the full supply of all his natural wants--yea, with all
the ease and luxury of life, nothing but the mighty power of God's
Word and Spirit can keep one true to Christ.
We should also remark that there is a vast difference between the
destinies of Egypt and those of Babylon. The nineteenth of Isaiah sets
before us the blessings that are in store for Egypt. It concludes
thus: "And the Lord shall smite Egypt; He shall smite and heal it; and
they shall return even to the Lord, and He shall be entreated of them,
and shall heal them.... In that day shall Israel be the third with
Egypt and with Assyria, even a blessing in the midst of the land; whom
the Lord of Hosts shall bless, saying, Blessed be Egypt My people, and
Assyria the work of My hands, and Israel Mine inheritance." (Ver.
22-25.)
Very different is the close of Babylon's history, whether viewed as a
literal city or a spiritual system.--"I will also make it a possession
for the bittern, and pools of water; and I will sweep it with the
besom of destruction, saith the Lord of Hosts." (Isaiah xiv. 23.) "It
shall never be inhabited, neither shall it be dwelt in from generation
to generation." (Isaiah xiii. 20.) So much for Babylon literally; and
looking at it from a mystic or spiritual point of view, we read its
destiny in Rev. xviii. The entire chapter is a description of Babylon,
and it concludes thus: "A strong angel took up a stone, like a great
millstone, and cast it into the sea, saying, 'Thus, with violence
shall that great city Babylon be thrown down, and shall be found no
more at all.'" (Ver. 21.)
With what immense solemnity should those words fall upon the ears of
all who are in any wise connected with Babylon--that is to say, with
the false, professing church,--"Come out of her, My people, that ye be
not partakers of her sins, and that ye receive not of her plagues"!
(Rev. xviii. 5.) The "power" of the Holy Ghost will necessarily
produce, or express itself in, a certain "form," and the enemy's aim
has ever been to rob the professing church of the power, while he
leads her to cling to and perpetuate the form--to stereotype the form
when all the spirit and life has passed away. Thus he builds the
spiritual Babylon. The stones of which this city is built are lifeless
professors; and the slime or mortar which binds these stones together
is "a form of godliness without the power."
Oh! my beloved reader, let us see to it that we fully, clearly, and
influentially understand these things.
But then, inasmuch as we are, in God's view, eternally associated with
Him who has passed right through into the heavenlies, and taken His
seat there in triumph and majesty, it is our happy privilege to know
ourselves, by faith, as "sitting together in Him" there. (Eph. ii.) So
that although we are, as to our bodies, in Egypt, we are, as to our
experience, in the wilderness, while, at the same time, faith
conducts us, in spirit, into Canaan, and enables us to feed upon "the
old corn of the land," _i.e._, upon Christ, not as One come down to
earth merely, but as One gone back to heaven and seated there in
glory.
The concluding verses of this fifteenth chapter show us Israel in the
wilderness. Up to this point, it seemed to them to be all fair
sailing. Heavy judgments poured upon Egypt, but Israel perfectly
exempt,--the army of Egypt dead upon the sea shore, but Israel in
triumph. All this was well enough; but, alas! the aspect of things
speedily changed. The notes of praise were soon exchanged for the
accents of discontent. "When they came to Marah, they could not drink
of the waters of Marah, for they were bitter; therefore the name of it
was called Marah. And the people murmured against Moses, saying, 'What
shall we drink?'" Again, "The whole congregation of the children of
Israel murmured against Moses and Aaron in the wilderness; and the
children of Israel said unto them, 'Would to God we had died by the
hand of the Lord in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the flesh-pots,
and when we did eat bread to the full! for ye have brought us forth
into this wilderness to kill this whole assembly with hunger.'"
Here were the trials of the wilderness.--"What shall we eat?" and
"What shall we drink?" The waters of Marah tested the heart of Israel
and developed their murmuring spirit; but the Lord showed them that
there was no bitterness which He could not sweeten with the provision
of His own grace. "And the Lord showed him a tree, which when he had
cast into the waters, the waters were made sweet; there he made for
them a statute and an ordinance, and there he proved them." Beauteous
figure this of Him who was, in infinite grace, cast into the bitter
waters of death, in order that those waters might yield naught but
sweetness to us forever! We can truly say, "The bitterness of death is
past," and nothing remains for us but the eternal sweets of
resurrection.
Verse 26 sets before us the momentous character of this first stage of
God's redeemed in the wilderness. We are in great danger, at this
point, of falling into a fretful, impatient, murmuring spirit. The
only remedy for this is to keep the eye steadily fixed on
Jesus--"looking unto Jesus." He, blessed be His name, ever unfolds
Himself according to the need of His people; and they, instead of
complaining of their circumstances, should only make their
circumstances an occasion of drawing afresh upon Him. Thus it is that
the wilderness ministers to our experience of what God is. It is a
school, in which we learn His patient grace and ample resources.
"Forty years suffered He their manners in the wilderness." (Acts xiii.
18.) The spiritual mind will ever own that it is worth having bitter
waters for God to sweeten. "We glory in tribulations also: knowing
that tribulation worketh patience; and patience, experience; and
experience, hope; and hope maketh not ashamed; because the love of
God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost which is given unto
us." (Rom. v. 3-5.)
However, the wilderness has its Elims as well as its Marahs,--its
wells and palm trees, as well as its bitter waters. "And they came to
Elim, where were twelve wells of water, and threescore and ten palm
trees; and they encamped there by the waters." (Ver. 27.) The Lord
graciously and tenderly provides green spots in the desert for His
journeying people; and though they are, at best, but oases, yet are
they refreshing to the spirit and encouraging to the heart. The
sojourn at Elim was eminently calculated to soothe the hearts of the
people, and hush their murmurings. The grateful shade of its palm
trees, and the refreshing of its wells, came in sweetly and seasonably
after the trial of Marah, and significantly set forth, in our view,
the precious virtues of that spiritual ministry which God provides for
His people down here. "The twelve" and "the seventy" are numbers
intimately associated with ministry.
But Elim was not Canaan. Its wells and palm trees were but foretastes
of that happy land which lay beyond the bounds of the sterile desert
on which the redeemed had just entered. It furnished refreshment, no
doubt, but it was wilderness refreshment. It was but for a passing
moment, designed, in grace, to encourage their depressed spirits, and
nerve them for their onward march to Canaan. Thus it is, as we know,
with ministry in the Church. It is a gracious provision for our need,
designed to refresh, strengthen, and encourage our hearts, "until we
all come to the fullness of the measure of the stature of Christ."
(Eph. iv.)