“That Your Joy Might Be Full.”
Had the Man of sorrows any joys? The Gospels, the proper memoirs of his life, make no mention of any. His tears are spoken of; but not his smiles. When we consider what he was—holy, pure, divine, eternal; when we consider whence he came—from the bosom of the Father, from a throne in glory; and what he came for—to suffer, the just for the unjust; we might conclude that in this unsatisfying, miserable world, the Son of God could find nothing to enjoy—could have no thought of gladness; and yet I think he had. We must look very closely indeed to find the sources of his joy, for they were few and hidden. Once, and I think no more, it is said in the Gospels, that Jesus rejoiced in spirit. (Luke 10:2121In that hour Jesus rejoiced in spirit, and said, I thank thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes: even so, Father; for so it seemed good in thy sight. (Luke 10:21).) The occasion of his rejoicing is very remarkable ‘I thank thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes.’ There could be but one cause for this—Jesus had no pleasure in the blindness of any one—no value for the soul of one above another; but he beheld his Father’s glory in it; he knew that had the wise and prudent of this world been chosen to make known his gospel, men would have given to them the glory—perhaps they would have taken it to themselves. But God had chosen the foolish of this world to confound the wise, and Jesus delighted in the preference, because he saw the greater glory that would result from it to God: proving that salvation is of grace, and not of merit; that divine knowledge is imparted immediately from heaven, and not acquired by human understanding. I cannot help remarking how different a feeling prevails among men. There is apt to be great rejoicing in the Church when some great one, some wise one, is converted, as if it were more important that such a one should be saved than one who is poor and unknown. A great deal is said about the influence such a conversion may have on others, the power of such a one for doing good, the conspicuousness of a light so elevated. This may be the result if God so pleases, but it is evident that Jesus made no account of all this: he expressly rejoiced that it was otherwise.
I have said, there is in the Gospels no other mention of the Redeemer’s joys. It is only by inference we can trace them. It may be inferred justly, that he himself rejoiced in that which he declared to be a cause of joy in heaven-the bringing of a sinner to repentance. ‘He shall see of the travail of his soul, and shall be satisfied;’ entirely, when the purpose of his travail should be accomplished in the salvation of his Church; but prospectively in the depth of his sufferings. As St. Paul also speaks, ‘Who, for the joy that was set before him, despised the shame.’ As one and another turned to follow him, we must suppose the compassionate Savior rejoiced in the fruits of anticipated victory, with a joy proportioned to his love—and that was infinite. When, of the ten who were healed, one only returned to glorify God, some pleasure in that one would mix itself with his sense of the ingratitude of the remainder.
And when, in the house of Lazarus, Jesus expressed so little satisfaction in the hospitable assiduities of Martha, needless to him, and injurious to herself, we cannot suppose otherwise than that he felt pleasure in the company of Mary, as she sat listening at his feet. And did he not take pleasure in Mary’s love, and the Centurion’s faith? When we consider how dear to him were the souls he came from heaven to save, and how dear the glory of the Father which he came to vindicate, it cannot be doubted that Jesus felt a joy exalted as his own nature, whenever a sinner gave tokens of repentance, and God was glorified in his works. If we would know more, we must have recourse to the Psalms, those sacred soliloquies of Christ’s humanity. Let them testify as to the character of the Redeemer’s joy. A single quotation will unfold it all. ‘Then said I, Lo, I come: in the volume of the book it is written of me, I delight to do thy will, O my God.’ ‘The Lord is the portion of mine inheritance and my cup; thou maintainest my lot. The lines are fallen unto me in pleasant places; yea, I have a goodly heritage. I will bless the Lord, who hath given me counsel; my reins also instruct me in the night seasons- I have set the Lord always before me; because he is at my right hand, I shall not be moved. Therefore, my heart is glad, and my glory rejoiceth; my flesh also shall rest in hope. For thou wilt not leave my soul in hell; neither wilt thou suffer thine Holy One to see corruption. Thou wilt show me the path of life; in thy presence is fullness of joy; at thy right hand are pleasures for evermore. Psalms 16
Were we to multiply quotations, as we might, the result would be only this—Jesus mentions, the prophetic Spirit mentions for him, only two sources of delight; God, in his law, his glory, and his presence, and the salvation of mankind. If he had any other pleasures—if the senses and affections of his humanity could delight in what gratifies ours—if he could enjoy those external blessings so abundantly bestowed on us, nothing is said of it—he does not tell us so. Jesus came on earth in search of pain and sorrow: probably he found no joys but those he brought with him from heaven; certain it is, he does not speak of any other.
If this was so, we cannot but perceive in how different a position the servant stands with respect to the enjoyments of this life, to that in which his Lord was placed. ‘The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of man hath not where to lay his head.’ The meanest of God’s people, the most ungrateful of his enemies, have more sources of temporal enjoyment than were granted to the humanity of his only begotten Son. The common gifts of Providence, those rains that descend alike on the just and the unjust, how abundant they are! We are not justified in undervaluing them, and we are not forbidden by our Savior’s example to enjoy them.
Admitting, in this one respect, a merciful unlikeness, there is not the less a required conformity between the enjoyments of Christ and the enjoyments of his people.
If it is difficult to set forth the secret sorrows of the believer, how much more so to give the measure of his joys! Had we the language of heaven to express them in, we should fail to convey a just impression to the mind of the ungodly. We find ourselves in a maze when we would set about it, and know not where to begin, and are ready to give up the attempt. We must recall the Savior’s words, for we perceive that joy is joy, only in proportion as it resembles his.
‘How I delight to do thy will! ‘or as David, Lord, how I love thy law!’ and St. Paul, For I delight in the law of God after the inner man.’ This the natural heart does not and cannot. The unconverted man may sometimes do the will of God: he may wish, with a view to the eternal consequences, that he could do it more; he may by his natural judgment perceive that God’s laws are good, and, without entering into the spiritual meaning, make an attempt to observe them in the letter. Those who do not so themselves, often bear testimony to their excellence, by admiring those that do. But to love them, to delight in them-this no man ever did, but he who has learned it of his Savior. Consider what this delight implies. It is in all his will-in all his laws; this law, this will, may require of us the sacrifice of everything—the sacrifice of ourselves, and our sins, it must require. The will of God often imposes severe and bitter trial, much passive endurance, as well as active self-sacrifice: a pharisaic effort to do the one, and a calm submission to endure the other, have often been manifested by the children of this world. It is reserved to the children of God to find joy in them. St. Paul rejoiced in his infirmities when it was the will of God they should not be removed; he speaks of them that glory in tribulation. St. James bids the rich rejoice when they are made low. Our Savior bids us rejoice, and be exceeding glad, under falsehood, insult, and oppression. These are not nature’s joys; no natural man can say he ever felt them-the believer can.
The believer further manifests his delight in the law of God, by the joy he feels in seeing others do it. As he can never behold sin without feeling pain, so does he never see holiness without delighting in it. What exquisite joy, in the darkness of this evil world, to look upon the lights that grace has lighted—to hear of, to see the works of them that walk according to his law: to find, it may be in some public walk, it may be in some abode of poverty, one who seems living only to fulfill his will: this is a pleasure worthy of Christ to have enjoyed—and doubtless he did enjoy it, when he beheld Mary at his feet, forgetting in her desire to learn of him.
If I speak less of joy in doing the will of God, than in having it done in us, and seeing it done by others, it is not because I do not know it to be greatest. But we so seldom attain to it—it is so seldom we are satisfied with anything we do-we perceive so much more of defect than of conformity in our best performances, that though I know it may be felt, and be more grateful to us than any other joy, and though I know we may so desire it as to say, with our Lord, My meat and drink is to do the will of God;’ yet the sense of having done it satisfactorily is so rare, I can say little about it; it may at least be judged of by the pain of having failed in it.
The Lord is the portion of mine inheritance and my cup. ‘The lines are fallen to me in pleasant places; yea, I have a goodly heritage.’ This is the gladness of him, who, having found a treasure hidden in a field, for joy thereof goeth and selleth all that he bath, and buyeth that field. Perhaps it would be too much to say the believer is the only contented one on earth. I have seen the children of this world so well pleased with its perishable possessions, as long as they can keep them, that I must suppose they too believe they have a goodly heritage, as he did who said to his soul, ‘Soul, take thine ease,’ &c. But when these words applied to Christ, he had no such possessions-He had not where to lay his head; He had stripped himself of infinite wealth, and retained no portion to rejoice in but his God. The enjoyment of God, as a present portion, is very difficult to describe, but every experienced christian knows what it is; it is something quite distinct from the expectation of future blessedness; it is what St. Paul calls ‘being filled with the fullness of God;’ of which David says, Happy are the people that have the Lord for their God.’ And again, ‘Thy lovingkindness is better than life.’ And in Revelation 1 know thy works, and tribulation, and poverty: but thou art rich towards God. This is spoken of present good. It is difficult sometimes to separate present enjoyment from eternal hope; but the believer knows that he has both. He as much seeks happiness in God now as he expects to seek it in heaven, and finds it in him when he has none elsewhere. The moments of greatest delight in God are usually those of greatest destitution: when we look for some to take pity, but there is none; and for comforters, but there is no man. Ask the tried saint which have been the happiest moments of his life, and he will tell you of those in which every earthly good had departed from him-in some deep affliction, some extreme suffering, some pressing danger, when man either could not or,—would not give him any help. These have been his happiest hours; for then, emptied of everything else, he was fullest of God; and had such sensible enjoyment of him as earthly language is not suited to express, nor earth—devoted spirits able to understand. It is then that, having nothing, we are possessed of all things.
I proceed with the Redeemer’s words. I have set the Lord always before me: because he is at my right hand, I shall not be moved. Therefore my heart is glad, and my glory rejoiceth. The Lord is to his people an abiding portion. He does not, like some friend of earth, come in at distant periods, give us a fond embrace, and go away. He makes his abode with us. He sits down, as it were, at our right hand, to be ready for our need of him. The seasons of peculiar joy we have just spoken of, more akin to heaven than earth, are but for an occasion, and generally pass with it: leaving behind them a more distinct notion of what our future blessedness will be, a firmer evidence of what God will do, by what he has done in our time of need. Were this elevation to continue always, we should not only have no cross to bear, but should be unfit to do our work on earth. The disciples, together with their Master, descended from the mount of transfiguration, to try in very different scenes the love and faithfulness of God. So must our seasons of spiritual enjoyment pass: leaving their remembrance like a beacon light to cheer the believer through his hours of darkness. But it is not in times of exaltation only that the child of God is conscious of His Father’s presence. Joyful above measures as these moments are, they are not those visits that he values most. It is the abiding—the sitting down— the perpetual consciousness of God’s presence, he values above these evanescent joys. He is about my bed, and about my path. ‘He knoweth my down-sitting and mine uprising.’ When thou goest through the waters I will be with thee. ‘I laid me down and slept, I awaked, for the Lord sustained me.’