This burst of confidence in my text comes from the Psalmist immediately
after plaintively pouring out his soul under the pressure of
afflictions. His experience may teach us the interpretation of his glad
assurance.
God will keep all real evil from us if we keep near Him; but He will not
keep the externals that men call evil from us. I do not know whether
there is such a thing as filtering any poisons or malaria by means of
light, but I am sure that the light of God filters our atmosphere for
us. Though it may leave the external form of evil it takes all the
poison out of it and turns it into a harmless minister for our good. The
arrows that are launched at us may be tipped with venom when they leave
the bow, but if they pass through the radiant envelope of divine
protection that surrounds us--and they must have passed through that if
they reach us--it cleanses all the venom from the points though it
leaves the sharpness there. The evil is not an evil if it has got our
length; and its having touched us shows that He who lets it pass into
the light where His children safely dwell, knows that it cannot harm
them.
But, again, we shall find if we live in continual communion with the
revealed Face of God, that we are elevated high above all the strife of
tongues and the noise of earth. We shall 'outsoar the shadow of the
night,' and be lifted to an elevation from which all the clamours of
earth will sound faint and poor, like the noises of the city to the
dwellers on the mountain peak. Nor do we find only security there, for
the word in the second clause of my text, 'Thou shalt _keep_ them
_secretly_,' is the same as is employed in the previous verse in
reference to the treasures which God _lays up_ for them that fear Him.
The poor men that trust in God, and the wealth which He has to lavish
upon them, are both hid, and they are hid in the same place. The
'goodness wrought before the sons of men' has not emptied the reservoir.
After all expenditure the massy ingots of gold in God's storehouse are
undiminished. The mercy still to come is greater than that already
received. 'To-morrow shall be as this day and much more abundant.' This
river broadens as we mount towards its source.
Brethren! the Face of God must be either our dearest joy or our greatest
dread. There comes a time when you and I must front it, and look into
His eyes. It is for us to settle whether at that day we shall 'call upon
the rocks and the hills to hide us' from it, or whether we shall say
with rapture, 'Thou hast made us most blessed with Thy countenance'!
Which is it to be? It must be one or other. When He says, 'Seek ye My
Face,' may our hearts answer, 'Thy Face, Lord, will I seek,' that when
we see it hereafter, shining as the sun in his strength, its light may
not be darkness to our impure and horror-struck eyes.