'Until the time that his word came, the word of the Lord tried him.'
--PSALM cv. 19.
I do not think I shall be mistaken if I affirm that these words do not
convey any very clear idea to most readers. They were spoken with
reference to Joseph, during the period of his imprisonment. For the
understanding of them I think we must observe that there is a contrast
drawn between two 'words,' 'his' (_i.e._ Joseph's) and God's. If we lay
firm hold of that clue, I think it will lead us into clear daylight, and
it will be obvious that Joseph's word, which delayed its coming, or
fulfilment, was either his boyish narrative of the dreams that
foreshadowed his exaltation, or less probably, his words to his
fellow-prisoners in the interpretation of their dreams. In either case,
the _terminus ad quem_, the point to which our attention is directed, is
the period when that word came to be fulfilled, and what my text says is
that during that long season of unfulfilled hope, the 'word of God,'
which was revealed in Joseph's dream, and was the ground on which his
own 'word' rested--did what? Encouraged, heartened, strengthened him?
No, that unfulfilled promise might encourage or discourage him; but the
Psalmist fixes our thoughts on another effect which, whether it
encouraged or discouraged, it certainly had, namely, that it tested him,
and found out what stuff he was made of, and whether there was staying
power enough in him to hold on, in unconquerable faith, to a promise
made long since, communicated by no more reliable method than a dream,
and of the fulfilment of which not the faintest sign had, for all these
weary years, appeared. His circumstances, judged by appearances,
shattered his early visions, and bade him believe them to be no more
than the boyish aspirations which grown men dismiss or find melt away of
themselves when life's realities wake the dreamer. We might either say
that the non-fulfilment of the promise tested Joseph, or that the
promise, by its non-fulfilment, tested him. The Psalmist chooses the
latter more forcible and half paradoxical mode of speech. It proved the
depth and vitality of his faith, and his ability to see things that are
not as though they were. Will this man be able continually through years
of poverty and imprisonment to keep his eye on the light beyond, to see
his star through clouds? Will he despise the 'light affliction,' in the
potent and immovable belief that it is 'but for a moment?'
Thus, for all these years the great blessed word, or the hope that was
built upon it, tested Joseph in the very depths of his soul. And is not
that just what our anticipations, built upon God's assurances, whether
they are in regard to earthly matters that seem long in coming, or
whether they, as they ought to do, travel beyond the bounds of the
material, to grasp _the_ hope which is _the_ promise, 'the hope of
eternal life,' ought to do for us, test us and find out what sort of
people we are? And they do!
Let us go back to the man in our text. According to some commentators,
he was imprisoned for something like ten years. We do not know how long
his Egyptian bondage had lasted, nor how long before that his endurance
of the active ill-will of his surly brothers had gone on. But at all
events his chrysalis stage was very long, and one would not have
wondered if he had said to himself, down in that desert pit or in that
Egyptian dungeon, 'Ah, yes! they _were_ dreams, and _only_ dreams,' or
if he had, as so many of us do, turned his back on his youthful visions,
and gained the sad power of being able to smile at his old hopes and
ambitions. Brethren! especially you young men and women, cherish your
youthful dreams. They are often the prophecies of capacities and
possibilities, signs of what God means you to make yourselves. But that
is apart from my subject. Suppose we had clear before us, with
unwavering confidence in its reality, the great promise which God has
given us, do you not think that its presence would purify our souls, and
give power and dignity to our lives?
The promise was a test, says my text. The word which it employs to
designate the manner of testing or trying, is one drawn from the
smelting operations of the goldsmith, by which, heat being applied, the
mass is made fluid and the dross is run off, and as the result of the
trial, there flows out gold refined by fire.
'Having these promises, dearly beloved! let us cleanse ourselves from
all filthiness of the flesh and spirit.' 'Every man who hath this hope
in Him purifieth himself, even as He is pure.' The result of the great
promise of eternal life and of the hope that it kindles is meant to be
that it shall purge our spirits from meanness, from sense, from undue
dependence upon the miserable trivialities of to-day, that it shall
emancipate us from slavery to the moment, and lead us into the liberty
of the eternities, 'while we look not at the things that are seen, but
at the things which are not seen.' Oh! if we would only see clearly and
habitually before us--for we could if we would--what God's heart
inclines Him to do for us, and what He certainly will do for us, in the
far-off future, if we will only let Him, do you not think that these
trifles that put us off our equanimity this morning would have been
borne with a little more composure? Do you not think that the things
that looked so huge when we were down abreast of them would, by the laws
of perspective, diminish in their proportions as we rose steadily above
them, until all the hubbub in the valley was unheard on the mountain
peak, and the great trees that waved their giant branches below and shut
out the sky from our eyes while we were among them would dwindle to a
green smear on the plain, and all the foes 'show scarce so gross as
beetles,' from the height from which we look down upon them? Get up
beside God's promise, if you would take the true dimensions of cares and
tasks, and burdens and sorrows. Then, brother! you will learn the truth
of the paradox, 'light ... but for a moment'; though often they all but
crush the burden-bearing shoulder and seem to last through slow years.
'The word of the Lord tried him,' and because it tried him, it purified
him. If we give credence, as we ought to, to that word, it will purify
_us_, and it will test of what contexture our faith is. The further away
the object of any hope is, the more noble the cherishing of it makes a
life. The trivial, short-lived anticipations which do not look beyond
the end of next week are far less operative in making strong and noble
characters than are those, of whatever kind they may be otherwise, which
look far ahead and need years for their realisation. It is a blessing to
have the mark far, far away, because that means that the arm that pulls
the bow must draw more strongly, and the eye that sees the goal must
gaze more intently. Be thankful for the promise that cannot be fulfilled
in this world because it lifts us above the low levels, and already
makes us feel as if we were endowed with immortality.
The word will test our patience, and it will test our willingness,
though we be heirs of the kingdom, to do humble tasks. Christian men in
this world are sons of a King, and look forward to a royal inheritance,
but in the meantime they have, as it were, to keep a little huckster's
shop in a back alley. But if we adequately realised the promise of our
inheritance, the meanness of our surroundings and the triviality of our
occupations would not make us mean or trivial, but our souls would be
'like stars' and 'dwell apart' while we travelled 'on life's common way
in cheerful godliness,' and did small duties in such a manner as to make
them great.
Because Joseph was sure that God's long-lingering word would be
fulfilled, he did not mind though he had to be the lackey of his
brothers, the Midianites' chattel, Potiphar's slave, Pharaoh's prisoner,
and a servant of servants in his dungeon. So with us, the measure of our
willing acceptance of our present tasks, burdens, humiliations, and
limitations is the measure of our firm faith in the promise that
tarries.
'If we hope for what we see not, then do we with patience wait for it,'
says the Apostle, though most of us would have said exactly the
opposite. We generally suppose that the more ardent the hope, the more
is it impatient of delay. Paul had learned better. The more certain the
assurance, the better we can tolerate the procrastination of its
fulfilment.
So, brethren! God's greatest gift to us, like all His other gifts, has
in it the quality of testing us; and we can come to a pretty fair
approximation to an estimate of what sort of Christian people we are, by
observing how we deal with God's promises of help according to our need
here and of heaven hereafter. How do we deal with them? Why, a sadly
large number of us never think about them at all; and a large proportion
of the others would a great deal rather stay working in the huckster's
shop in the back alley, than go home to the King. I am quite sure that
if the inmost sentiments of the bulk of professing Christians about a
future life were dragged into light, these would be a revelation of a
faith all honeycombed with insincerity. God tests us, and it is a sharp
test if we submit ourselves to it; He tests us by His promises. 'Child,
wilt thou believe?' is the first testing question put to us by these.
'Wilt thou keep them hid in thy heart?' is the next. 'Wilt thou go out
towards them in desire?' is the next. 'Wilt thou live worthy of them?'
is the last. 'The word of the Lord tried him.'
So let us be thankful for the delays of love, for the wide gap between
promise and realisation. It was for Joseph's sake that the slow years
were multiplied between the first gleam of his future and the full
sunshine of his exaltation. And it is for our sakes that God in like
manner protracts the period of anticipation and non-fulfilment. 'If the
vision tarry, wait for it.' 'Jesus loved Mary and Martha and Lazarus
their brother' very dearly. 'When He heard, therefore, that he was sick,
He abode still two days'--to give time for Lazarus to die--'in the same
place where He was.' Ay, and when each sister came to Him with her most
natural and yet most faithless 'Lord! if Thou hadst been here my brother
had not died,' He only said, 'If thou wouldst believe thou shouldst see
the glory of God.' Was not Lazarus dearer, restored from the grave, than
he would have been, raised from his sickbed? Is not the delaying of the
blessing a means of increase of the blessing? And shall not we be sure
that however long 'He that shall come' may seem to tarry ere He comes,
when He _has_ come they who have waited for His coming more than they
that watch for the morning and have sometimes been ready to cry out:
'Hath the Lord forgotten? Doth His promise fail for ever more?' will be
ashamed of their impatient moments and will humbly and thankfully
exclaim: 'He came at the very right time and did _not_ tarry.' 'Until
the time that his word came, the word of the Lord tried him,' and the
coming of that word was all the more blessed for every heavy-laden hour
of hope deferred, which, by God's grace, did not make the heart sick,
but prepared it for fuller possession of the blessings enhanced by the
delays of love.