'It is good for me to draw near to God: I have put my trust in the
Lord God, that I may declare all Thy works.'--PSALM lxxiii. 28.
The old perplexity as to how it comes, if God is good and wise and
strong, that bad men should prosper and good men should suffer, has been
making the Psalmist's faith reel. He does not answer the question
exactly as the New Testament would have done, but he does find a
solution sufficient for himself in two thoughts, the transiency of that
outward prosperity, and the eternal sufficiency of God. 'It was too
painful for me until I went into the Sanctuary, then understood I their
end'; and on the other hand: 'Thou art the Strength of my life, and my
Portion for ever.' So he climbs at last to the calm height where he
learns that, whatever be a man's outward prosperity, if he is separated
from God he ceases to be. As the context says: 'They that are far from
Thee shall perish.' 'Thou hast destroyed'--already, before they
die--'all them that go a-whoring from Thee.' And on the other hand,
whatever be the outward condition, God is enough. 'It is good for me,'
rich or poor harassed or at rest, afflicted or prosperous, in health or
sickness, solitary or compassed about with loving friends, 'it is good
for me to draw near to God'; and nothing else is good. Thus the river
that has had to fight its way through rocks, and has been chafed in the
conflict, and has twisted its path through many a deep, dark, sunless
gorge, comes out at last into the open, and flows with a broad sunlit
breast, peaceable and full, into the great ocean--'It is good for me to
draw near to God.'
But that is not all. The Psalmist goes on to tell how we are to draw
near to God: 'I have put my trust in Him.' And that is not all, for he
further goes on to tell how, drawing near to God through faith, all
these puzzles and mysteries about men's condition cease to perplex, and
a beam of light falls upon the whole of them. 'I have put my trust in
God, that I may declare all Thy works.' There are no knots in the thread
now.
I. So here we have, first the truth of experience that nearness to God
is the one good.
Of course, it is so in the Psalmist's view, since he believes, as we
profess to believe, that, to quote the words of another Psalmist, 'With
Thee is the fountain of life'; and therefore that to 'draw near to Thee'
is to carry our little empty pitchers to that great spring that is
always flowing with waters ever sweet and clear. Union with God is life,
in all senses of the word, according as the creature is capable of union
with Him. Why! there is no life in a plant except God's power is
vitalising it. 'Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow' because
God makes them grow. There is no bodily life in a man, unless He
continually breathes into the nostrils the breath of life. If you stop
the flow of the fountain, then all the pools are dry. There is no life
intellectual in a man, except by the 'inspiration of the Almighty,' from
whom 'all just thoughts do proceed.' Above all these forms of life the
real life of a spirit is the life derived from the union with God
Himself, whereby He pours Himself into it, and in the deepest sense of
the words it is true: 'Because I live ye shall live also.' 'It is good
for me to draw near to God,' because, unless I do, and if I am separated
from Him, my true self is dead, even whilst I seem to live. All that are
parted from Him perish; all that are joined to Him, and only they, do
live what is worth calling life. Cut off the sunbeam from the sun, and
what becomes of it? It vanishes. Separate a soul from God, and it is
dead. What is all the good of the world to you if your true self is
dead? And what an absurdity it is to deck a corpse with riches and pomp
of various kinds! That is what the men of the world are doing, who have
chained themselves to earth, and cut themselves off from God. 'For me it
is good to draw near to God.' Do you draw near? Because if you do not,
no matter what prosperity you have, you do not know anything about the
true life and real good for heart and spirit.
I suppose I need scarcely go on pointing out other aspects of this
supreme--or more truly, this solitary--good. For instance, nothing is
really good to me unless I have it within me, so as that it can never be
wrenched away from me. The blessings that we cannot incorporate with the
very substance of our being are only partial blessings after all; and
all these things round us that do minister to our necessities, tastes,
affections, and sometimes to our weaknesses, these good things fail just
in this, that they stand outside us, and there is no real union between
us and them. So, changes come, and we have to unclasp hands, and the
footsteps that used to be planted by the side of ours cease, and our
track across the sands is lonely; and losses come, and death comes, and
all the glory and the good that were only externally possessed by us we
leave behind us. As this psalm says: 'I considered their end ... how
they are brought into desolation, as in a moment!' What is the good of a
good that is not incorporated into any being? What is the good of a good
about which I cannot say, with a smile of confidence, 'I know that
where-ever I may go, and whatever may befall me, that can never pass
from me'? There is but one good of that sort. 'I am persuaded that ...
neither life nor death ... nor any other creature, shall separate us
from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.' 'It is good
for me,' amidst the morasses and quicksands and bogs of life's uncertain
and shifting ill and good, to set my feet upon the rock, and to say:
'Here I stand, and my footing will never give way.' Do you, brother!
possess a changeless, imperishable, inwrought good like that? You may if
you like.
But remember, too, that in regard to this Christian good, it is not only
the possession of it, but the aspiration after it, that is blessed. The
Psalmist does not only say, 'It is good for me to be near to God,' but
he says, 'It is good for me to draw near.' There is one kind of life in
which the seeking is all but as blessed as the finding. There is one
kind of life in which to desire is all but as full of peace, and power,
and joy as to possess. Therefore, another psalm, which begins by
celebrating the blessedness of the men that dwell in God's house, and
are 'still praising Thee,' goes on to speak of the blessedness, not less
blessed, of the men 'in whose heart are the ways.' They who have reached
the Temple are at rest, and blessed in their repose. They who are
journeying towards it are in action, and blessed in their activity. 'It
is good to draw near'; and the seeking after God is as far above the
possession of all other good as heaven is above earth.
But then, notice further, how our Psalmist comes down to very plain,
practical teaching. He seems to feel that he must explain what he means
by drawing near to God. And here is his explanation. 'I have put my
trust in the Lord.'