“I went down into the garden of nuts, to see the fruits of the valley, and to see whether the vine flourished, and the pomegranates budded. Or ever I was aware, my soul made me like the chariots of Amminadib.” How seldom it happens, that the husbandman is taken by surprise with the abundance and ripeness of the fruits of his vineyard. How often, alas, it is the other way. Disappointment, not satisfaction, he is often compelled to reap as the fruit of his labor. It had been always so with Israel, we may say, as the Lord’s vineyard, until now. But, happily, all is changed! Grace shines — faith triumphs — the Lord prevails — the people are looking to Him, and counting on Him alone. Everything is ripe in Judah for glory and victory.
Blessed day! the Lord now sees in His people the ripened fruits of His grace. His heart rejoices — it is overpowered with the sight. It is no longer a scene in the wilderness, and His association with them there, but the fruitful garden, with its budding pomegranates, flourishing vines, and fruits of the valley. These fruits of His rich, patient grace, deeply affect Him. His love carries Him towards His now changed and willing people, swift as the chariots of Amminadib. “Or ever I was aware, my soul made me like the chariots of Amminadib;” or, set me on the chariots of my willing people. Margin, (Psalm 110:33Thy people shall be willing in the day of thy power, in the beauties of holiness from the womb of the morning: thou hast the dew of thy youth. (Psalm 110:3).) Wondrous, blessed scene, that the heart of the Lord should be so moved — so impelled by the readiness of His people to receive Him! Is there not something, Ο my soul, in this aspect of the Lord’s love, which calls for deep, special meditation? Surely there is. How wonderful, indeed, but how blessed, that He, who is Lord of all, should be so transported with delight, by hearts looking and longing for Himself! Oh! that every anxious, weeping, penitent believed this precious truth! When the daughter of Zion bathes His feet with her tears He will turn away from everything else, and hasten to comfort her. Her tears will be His swift chariot. The fullness of His heart will flow forth to her, and a plenary pardon, salvation, and peace, He will pour into her opened ear.
On many a page of the New Testament this sight may be seen. It has always been God’s way with the penitent soul; but in the New Testament we have many scenes portrayed of the Lord’s personal love and grace. And in what scene do we not find Him more delighted than the saved sinner? Did He not turn round in the press and look for the one that had touched the hem of His garment? She might have slipped away, as quietly as she came, but His love must have the entire scene brought into view, and recorded in the book of everlasting remembrance. None were interested in what had taken place as Himself. She had touched by faith the innermost spring of His heart, and the virtue that was there flowed out to her. But the Lord wants to see herself, and hear from her own lips, the experience of her soul. This done, He cannot let her go until He has acknowledged their kindred relationship, and the blessings which flow there from. “Daughter, thy faith hath made thee whole; go in peace, and be whole of thy plague.” Mark 5.
And is He less delighted, or less overcome, by the cry for mercy of the poor blind beggar? (Luke 18) By no means, He is on an important journey; must the whole procession stand still for the cry of a poor beggar from the very outer circle of the crowd? The moment the cry for mercy falls on the car of the Son of David, He is arrested. He moves not another step. “And Jesus stood, and commanded him to be brought unto him: and when he was come near, he asked him, saying, What wilt thou that I shall do unto thee? “What a sight! O, look again A poor blind beggar in the dust, and Jesus waiting on him. “What wilt thou that I shall do unto thee? “He seeks not to hurry through His work of mercy; He lingers over the hallowed scene. It fills and moves His soul. He only knows its wondrous bearings. But what a position for a destitute soul to be in? What wouldst thou have asked, my soul, had it been thee?” It is as if the Lord had said, “Ask what thou wilt, I am waiting to serve thee —waiting to grant thy request.” What will he ask, poor soul? Only what he feels the need of—his natural sight. “And he said, Lord, that I may receive my sight.” But the good Lord added to his request a thousand-fold. “And Jesus said unto him, Receive thy sight: thy faith hath saved thee.” The issues of this scene are glorious! He follows Jesus — glorifies God — and all the people give praise unto Him. The whole scene is like a foreshadowing of millennial times.
But of all the scenes in the New Testament, the parable of the prodigal son, we believe, most fully resembles the scene before us in the Song of Songs. The repentance of the prodigal carries the Father towards him, as on a swift chariot. He runs to meet His son. “But when he was yet a great way off, his father saw him, and had compassion, and ran, and fell on his neck and kissed him.” The love of the Father’s heart, and the desire of the son to return to Him, form, as it were, a swift chariot of love. But the Father taking the direction of its course, they rapidly reach their one, eternal, happy home.
Thus will it be with the Beloved in the Song. The deep and godly sorrow of His people in the latter day, and especially those of His own tribe, and their earnest desire for the Messiah to come, act upon His love, and carry Him swiftly to the scene, “Or ever I was aware, my soul set me on the chariots of my willing people.” And, now, taking the direction of His people, as the charioteer in the chariot, He accomplishes their full deliverance, and speedily conducts them to glory and triumph.
“How does the sudden earnestness of prayer
From much loved Zion, on My spirit press,
And My heart speed Me forward to their aid,
Borne on the chariots of their strong desire,
As in the heavens riding for their help,
And in Mine excellency in the sky,
To thrust away encroaching enemies,
To place my dove in safety on My breast!”
“Return, return, Ο Shulamite; return, return, that we may look upon thee. What will ye see in the Shulamite? As it were the company of two armies” The admiring virgins again join in the chorus. They express their desire to see more of the beauty, perfection, and glory of the Bride. She is walking in the garden of nuts with the King. Precious privilege! They call to her by a new name. “Return, return, Ο Shulamite;” which is the feminine form of Solomon. This is significant. Union is accomplished. The long-broken relationships are reestablished. Grace has wrought a perfect work in her. Blessed be the name of the Lord! He can now make Himself fully known to her; and she truly reflects the beams of His glory, “she is fair as the moon, and clear as the sun.” She is established in the favor of the King, and in the possession and enjoyment of His affections. This is rest for the heart — perfect — blessed rest. Nothing can rise above it, or go beyond it. Say, my soul, is this thy resting place? The manifested — the enjoyed affections of thy Well-beloved. He has revealed Himself — given Himself; what more can He do? We can have no such expression of His love in heaven, as we have on earth — as was manifested on the cross. The blood that was shed there is the perfect rest of the conscience — the love that was revealed there, is the perfect rest of the heart; thou hast all now. “Only believe.” “We which have believed do enter into rest.” Heb. 4.
Other virgins now join in the chorus, and inquire, “What will ye see in the Shulamite?” The answer is ready, “As it were the company of two armies.” The beautiful Tirzah, and the comely Jerusalem, are seen united in her. Some have thought, that the company of two armies as seen in the spouse, represent the old life and the new, at constant war with each other, in the Christian. We think this a mistake. Here, it does not appear to refer to conflict at all! but, rather, to peace, unity, and glory. Does it not express the reunion of the long-divided house of Jacob, under the Prince of Peace? Judah and Israel are no longer two nations warring with each other, but are joined in one, and here represented by the loving, peaceful spouse of the true Solomon. This union is introductory to the millennium — the reign of peace. “The envy also of Ephraim shall depart, and the adversaries of Judah shall be cut off: Ephraim shall not envy Judah, and Judah shall not vex Ephraim.” (Isa. 11:1313The envy also of Ephraim shall depart, and the adversaries of Judah shall be cut off: Ephraim shall not envy Judah, and Judah shall not vex Ephraim. (Isaiah 11:13).) The King of Salem reigns; the twelve tribes are restored; the nations are subdued under them; all is peace. The war trumpet hangs in the hall, swords are beaten into plowshares, spears into pruning hooks, and the nations do not even learn the art of war any more. Isa. 2:33And many people shall go and say, Come ye, and let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the house of the God of Jacob; and he will teach us of his ways, and we will walk in his paths: for out of Zion shall go forth the law, and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem. (Isaiah 2:3).
But apart from the allegory before us, do the scriptures countenance the idea, that Christian conflict is between the old life and the new? Certainly not! The conflict is between the flesh and the Spirit. “The flesh lusteth against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh.” It is not,” The old life against the new, and the new against the old.” There must be a serious shortcoming in the knowledge of the cross, where this thought has a place. The apostle states, in plainest terms, “That our old man is crucified with Christ, that the body of sin might be destroyed.” (Rom. 6:1-111What shall we say then? Shall we continue in sin, that grace may abound? 2God forbid. How shall we, that are dead to sin, live any longer therein? 3Know ye not, that so many of us as were baptized into Jesus Christ were baptized into his death? 4Therefore we are buried with him by baptism into death: that like as Christ was raised up from the dead by the glory of the Father, even so we also should walk in newness of life. 5For if we have been planted together in the likeness of his death, we shall be also in the likeness of his resurrection: 6Knowing this, that our old man is crucified with him, that the body of sin might be destroyed, that henceforth we should not serve sin. 7For he that is dead is freed from sin. 8Now if we be dead with Christ, we believe that we shall also live with him: 9Knowing that Christ being raised from the dead dieth no more; death hath no more dominion over him. 10For in that he died, he died unto sin once: but in that he liveth, he liveth unto God. 11Likewise reckon ye also yourselves to be dead indeed unto sin, but alive unto God through Jesus Christ our Lord. (Romans 6:1‑11).) It is perfectly plain, then, that in God’s sight, and now to faith, our old nature came to its end on the cross. What a comfort for our hearts! We know, of course, as a matter of painful experience, that the old nature we have, still exists, and is no feeble thing. And, further, if it be not constantly watched and judged, it will prove a source of ceaseless trouble, both to ourselves and others. Practical Christianity may be said to consist of two things. 1. In nourishing the new life through occupation with Christ. 2. In judging the old, on which God has put the sentence of death, in the most awfully-solemn manner, in the cross. But some may ask, “How are we to watch against its risings and judge it?” The apostle answers, “This I say then, Walk in the Spirit and ye shall not fulfill the lust of the flesh.” We have no power against nature but in the Holy Spirit, and in the assurance, by faith, that the flesh is a crucified thing in God’s mind, and done with forever, blessed be the name of Him who bore the cross for us. It was in His cross that our old man was crucified; there it was really, fully, and finally nailed to the tree, and made a full end of; we have to believe this, and walk in the power and liberty which faith gives.
Hast thou entered, my soul, into the right understanding of this foundation-truth —this peace-giving truth to the troubled soul? Know, then, for thy perfect rest and comfort, that from the moment we have life, through faith in Christ, the whole of our corrupt nature is spoken of, and treated in scripture, as a dead thing. “Ye are dead,” is the emphatic word of scripture, but that is not all, thank God, “and your life is hid with Christ in God.” (Col. 3:33For ye are dead, and your life is hid with Christ in God. (Colossians 3:3).) How safe! how secure! “with Christ, in God.” Could our old nature, or anything that belongs to it, be hidden there? Ah, no! all that was thine is gone—gone forever; all that is Christ’s remains —remains in all its changeless perfection in the best place in all heaven. By the cross we get rid of that which is ours— in resurrection we are put in possession of that which is Christ’s.
Not a particle of the old creation shall ever be found in the new.
The apostle gives us a full statement of this blessed truth, as in his own case. “I am crucified with Christ,” he says, “nevertheless I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me.” Here, he speaks of himself, in one point of view, as dead; and in another, as alive. How can this be understood? By faith only. He speaks of two “I’s;” the old “I,” or self, as slain —or crucified. The new “I,” as his new life —Christ in him. The first, he treats as dead, and forever done with; the second, as his only life now. “Christ liveth in me.” The practical effect of this truth, when believed, is immense. Self, wretched self, which is the end and object of the natural man, in all he does, is gone — gone, I mean, to faith. Christ enters and takes the place of self. “For me to live is Christ” — is to have Christ, not self, for my end and object. Christ, not self, is the spring now. We know, of course, that Paul had his natural life here below — the life he ever had as a man, but the life in which he lived, was a wholly new one —Christ in him. “The life which I now live in the flesh, I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me.”
All this is as true now, in principle, of every Christian, as it was of the apostle, though it may not be so brightly manifested. There must first be faith in the truth, then a life answering to the strength which that faith gives. However, it is plainly written, “They that are Christ’s have crucified the flesh with the affections and lusts.” Not, observe, are crucifying it, but have crucified it. But of whom is this great truth stated? Of highly advanced Christians? No, simply of “they that are Christ’s.” It is as true of the babe, as the young man, or father in Christ. What was it that needed crucifying on the cross? Something that belonged to Christ, or to me? It was the old and great “I,” that needed to be slain — nailed to the tree, and that was done in Christ, forever blessed be His name. Oh! to believe it —to keep self where the cross has put it — to walk in the liberty and power of the Holy Spirit, and be only, and always occupied, with the risen and glorified Christ.
His be “the Victor’s name,”
Who fought the fight alone;
Triumphant saints no honor claim,
His conquest was their own.
By weakness and defeat,
He won the meed and crown;
Trod all our foes beneath His feet,
By being trodden down.
He, hell, in hell, laid low;
Made sin, He sin o’erthrew;
Bowed to the grave, destroyed it so,
And death, by dying slew.
Bless, bless, the Conqueror slain,
Slain in His victory;
Who lived, who died, who lives again—
For thee, His church, for thee!