Part 3.
This conducts us to the second point in our subject, namely, “the yoke.” It has been already observed that we must keep the two things distinct. To confound them, is to tarnish the heavenly luster of the grace of Christ, and to put a yoke upon the sinner’s neck, and a burden upon his shoulder which he, as being “without strength,” is wholly unable to hear. But, then, they are morally connected. All who come to Christ, must take His yoke upon them and learn of Him, if they would “find rest unto their souls.” To come to Christ is one thing; to walk with Him, or learn of Him, is quite another.
Christ was “meek and lowly in heart.” He could meet the most adverse and discouraging circumstances with an “even so, Father.” The Baptist’s heart might fail amid the heavy clouds which gathered around him in Herod’s dungeon; the men of that generation might refuse the double testimony of righteousness and grace, as furnished by the ministry of John and of our Lord Himself; Bethsaida, Chorazin, and Capernaum might refuse the testimony of His mighty works – a torrent of evidence which one might suppose would sweep away with every opposing barrier; all these things, and many more might cross the path of the divine workman; but, being “meek and lowly in heart,” He could say, “I thank Thee, O Father, even so, Father, for so it seemed good in Thy sight.” His “rest” in the Father’s counsels was profound and perfect; and He invites us to take His yoke, to learn of Him, to drink into His spirit, to know the practical results of a subject mind, that so we may “find rest unto our souls.”
A broken will is the real ground of the rest which we are to “find,” after we have come to Christ. If God wills one thing, and we will another, we cannot find rest in that. It matters not what the scene or circumstances may be. We may swell a list of things, to any imaginable extent, in which our will may run counter to the will of God; but, in whatever it is, we cannot find rest so long as our will is unbroken. We must get to the end of self in the matter of will, as well as in the matter of “wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, or redemption,” else we shall not “find rest.”
This, beloved reader, is deep, real, earnest, personal work. Moreover, it is a daily thing. It is a continual taking of Christ’s yoke upon us, and learning of Him. It is not that we take the yoke in order to come to Christ. No; but we come to Christ first, and then, when His love fills and satisfies our souls, when His rest refreshes our spirits, when we can gaze, by faith, upon His gracious countenance, and see Him stooping down to confer upon us the high and holy privilege of wearing His yoke, and learning His lesson, we find that His yoke is indeed easy, and His burden light. Unsubdued, unjudged, unmortified nature could never wear that yoke or bear that burden.
The first thing is, “Come unto Me, and I will give you rest.” The second thing is, “Take My yoke upon you, and ye shall find rest.”
We must never reverse these things, never confound them, never displace them, never separate them. To call upon a sinner to take Christ’s yoke before he has Christ’s rest, is to place Christ on the top of Mount Sinai, the sinner at the foot of the Mount, and a dark impenetrable cloud between. This must not be done. Christ stands, in all His matchless grace, before the sinner’s eye, and pours forth His touching invitation, “Come,” and adds His heart-assuring promise, “I will give.” There is no condition, no demand, “no servile work.” All is the purest, freest, richest grace. Just “come, and I will give you rest. And what then? Is it bondage, doubt and fear? Ah! no.
“Take My yoke upon you.” How marvelously near this brings us to the one who has already given us rest! What a high honor to wear the same yoke with Him! It is not that He puts a grievous yoke upon our neck, and a heavy burden upon our shoulder, which we have to carry up the rugged sides of you fiery Mount. This is not Christ’s way. It is not thus He deals with the weary and heavy laden that come unto Him. He gives them rest. He gives them part of His yoke, and a share of His burden. In other words, He calls them into fellowship with Himself, and in proportion as they enter into this fellowship, they find still deeper and deeper rest in Him and in His blessed ways; and, at the close, He will conduct them into that eternal rest which remains for the people of God.
May the Lord enable us to enter, more fully, into the power of all these divine realities, that so His joy may remain in us, and our joy may be full. There is an urgent need of a full unreserved surrender of the heart to Christ, and a full, unreserved acceptance of Him, in all His precious adaptation to our every need. He wants the whole heart, the single eye, the mortified mind, the broken will. Where these exist, there will be little complaining of doubts and fears, ups and downs, heavy days, vacant hours, restless moments, dullness and stupor, wandering and barrenness.
When one has come to the end of himself, as regards wisdom, righteousness, holiness, and all beside, and when he has really found Christ as God’s provision for ALL, then, but not until then, he will know the depth and power of that word, “REST”.
O Lord, the way, the truth, the life.
Henceforth let sorrow, doubt, and strife
Drop off like autumn leaves.
Henceforth, as privileged by Thee,
Simple and undistracted be
Our souls which to Thee cleave.
Let us our feebleness recline
On that eternal love of Thine.
And human thoughts forget;
Childlike attend what Thou wilt say,
Go forth and serve Thee while ‘tis day,
Nor leave our sweet retreat.
(Concluded)