The Joy of the Christian Life

A Rich Life

When one of our kings came back from captivity, as old chroniclers tell, there were fountains in Cheapside which flowed with wine. So bounteous was the king, and so glad the people, that instead of water, they made wine flow free to everybody. There is a way of making our life so rich, so full, so blessed to our fellow-men, that the metaphor may be applicable to us, and men may say, that our life flows with wine when other men's lives flow with water. Ye have known some such men. John Howard's life was not like our poor, common lives: he was so benevolent, his sympathy with the race so self-denying, that the streams of his life were like generous wine. You have known personally, it may be, some eminent saint, one who lived very near to Jesus: when he talked, there was an unction and a savor about his words, a solidity and a strength about his utterances, which you could appreciate, though you could not attain unto it. You have sometimes said, "I wish my words were as full, as sweet, as mellow, and as unctuous as the words of such a one. O, I wish my actions were just as rich, had as deep a color, and as pure a taste, as the acts of some other to whom you point. All I can do seems but little and empty when compared with his high attainments. O, that I could do more! O, that I could send streams of pure gold into every house, instead of my poor dross!" Well, Christian, this should stimulate thee to keep thine heart full of rich things. Never, never neglect the Word of God; that will make thy heart rich with precept, thy head rich with understanding, and thy bowels rich with compassion; then, thy conversation, when it flows through thy mouth, will be from thy soul, and, like all that is within thee, rich, unctuous, and savory. Only let thy heart be full of sweet, generous love, and the stream that flows from thy lips will be sweet and generous. Above all, get Jesus to live in thine heart, and then out of thee shall flow rivers of living water, more exhilarating, purer, and more satiating than the water of the well of Sychar, of which Jacob drank. Go forth, with Christian, to the great mine of unsearchable riches, and cry unto the Holy Spirit to make thy heart rich unto salvation. So shall thy life and conversation be a boon to thy fellows; and when they see thee, thy visage shall shine, and thy face shall be as the angel of God.

A Full Heart

You have seen the great reservoirs provided by our water companies, in which water for the supply of thousands of houses is kept. Now, the heart is the reservoir of man, from which the streams of his life flow.

That life may flow through different pipes—the mouth, the hand, the eye; but still all the issues of hand, of eye, of lip, derive their source from the great fountain and central reservoir, the heart; and hence there is no difficulty in showing the great necessity that exists for keeping this reservoir in a proper state and condition, since otherwise that which flows through the pipes must be tainted and corrupt. Not only must the heart be kept pure, but it must also be kept full. However pure the water may be in the central reservoir, it will not be possible for us to have an abundant supply, unless the reservoir itself be full. An empty fountain will most assuredly beget empty pipes; let the machinery be never so accurate, let everything else be well ordered, yet if that reservoir be dry, we may wait in vain for water. See, then, the necessity of keeping the heart full; and let the necessity make you ask this question: "But how can I keep my heart full? How can my emotions be strong? How can I keep my desires burning and my zeal inflamed?" Christian! there is one text which will explain all this: "All my springs are in Thee," said David. If thou hast all thy springs in God, thy heart will be full enough. If thou goest to the foot of Calvary, there will thy heart be bathed in love and gratitude. If thou art often in the vale of retirement, talking with thy God, thy heart shall be full of calm resolve. If you goest with thy Master to the hill of Olivet, with Him to weep over Jerusalem, then will thy heart be full of love for never-dying souls. If thou art continually drawing thine impulse, thy life, the whole of thy being from the Holy Spirit, without whom thou canst do nothing, and if thou art living in close communion with Christ, there will be no fear of thy having a dry heart. He who lives without prayer—he who lives with little prayer—he who seldom reads the Word—he who seldom looks up to heaven for a fresh influence from on high—he will be the man whose heart will become dry and barren; but he who calls in secret on his God—who spends much time in holy retirement—who delights to meditate on the words of the Most High—whose soul is given up to Christ—who delights in His fulness, rejoices in his all-sufficiency, prays for his second coming, and delights in the thought of his glorious advent—such a man must have an overflowing heart; and as his heart is, such will his life be. It will be a full life; it will be a life that will speak from the sepulchre, and wake the echoes of the future. "Keep thine heart with all diligence," and entreat the Holy Spirit to keep it full; for otherwise, the issues of thy life will be feeble, shallow, and superficial; and thou mayest as well not have lived at all.

O for a heart thus full, and deep, and broad! Find the man that hath such a heart, and he is the man from whom living waters shall flow, to make the world glad with their refreshing streams.

The Happiness of Religion

Let a man truly know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and he will be a happy man; and the deeper he drinks into the Spirit of Christ, the happier will he become. That religion which teaches misery to be a duty is false upon the very face of it, for God, when He made the world, studied the happiness of His creatures. You cannot help thinking, as you see everything around you, that God has sedulously, with the most strict attention, sought ways of pleasing man. He has not merely given us absolute necessaries, He has given us more; not simply the useful, but even the ornamental. The flowers in the hedgerow, the stars in the sky, the beauties of nature, the hill and the valley—all these things were intended not merely because we needed them, but because God would show how He loved us, and how anxious he was that we should be happy. Now, it is not likely that the God who made a happy world would send a miserable salvation. He who is a happy Creator will be a happy Redeemer; and those who have tasted that the Lord is gracious, can bear witness that the ways of religion "are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace." And if this life were all, if death were the burial of all our life, and if the shroud were the winding-sheet of eternity, still to be a Christian would be a bright and happy thing, for it lights up this valley of tears, and fills the wells in the valley of Baca to the brim with streams of love and joy.

Religion—a Present Enjoyment

Religion has its present enjoyments. Speak, ye that know them, for ye can tell; yet ye cannot recount them all. O, would ye give up your religion for all the joys that earth calls good or great? Say, if your immortal life could be extinguished, would you give it up, even for all the kingdoms of this world? O, ye sons of poverty, has not this been a candle to you in the darkness? Has not this lightened you through the heavy shades of your tribulation? O, ye sons of toil, has not this been your rest, your sweet repose? Have not the testimonies of God been your song in the house of your pilgrimage? O, ye children of sorrow, racked with pain, has not religion been to you a sweet quietus in your sufferings? Is not religion worth having in the sick chamber? And ye men of business, speak for yourselves. You have hard struggles to pass through life. Sometimes you have been driven to a great extremity, and whether you would succeed or not seemed to hang upon a thread. Has not your religion been a joy to you in your difficulties? Has it not calmed your minds? When you have been fretted and troubled about worldly things, have you not found it pleasant to enter your closet, and shut to the door, and tell your Father in secret all your cares? And, O, ye that are rich, cannot you bear the same testimony, if you have loved the Master? What had all your riches been to you without a Saviour? Can you not say that your religion did gild your gold, and make your silver shine more brightly? For all things that you have are sweetened by this thought, that you have all these and Christ too. Was there ever a child of God who could deny this? We have heard of many infidels who grieved over their infidelity when they came to die: did you ever hear of any one on his death-bed looking back on a life of holiness with sorrow? Never, never did we know a Christian who repented of his Christianity. We have seen Christians so suffering, that we wondered that they lived; so poor, that we wondered at their misery; we have seen them so full of doubts, that we pitied their unbelief; but we never heard them say, even then, "I regret that I gave myself to Christ." No; with the dying clasp, when heart and flesh were failing, we have seen them hug this treasure to their breast, and press it to their heart, still feeling that this was their life, their joy, their all. O! if ye would be happy, if ye would be saved, if ye would strew your path with sunshine, and dig out the nettles and blunt the thorns, "Seek first the kingdom of God, and His righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you." Seek not happiness first; seek Christ first; and happiness shall come after. Seek ye first the Lord, and then He will provide for you in this life, and He will crown it with everything that is glorious in the life to come.

Joy Over the Repenting

The angels know what the joys of heaven are, and therefore they rejoice over one sinner that repenteth. We talk about pearly gates, and golden streets, and white robes, and harps of gold, and crowns of amaranth; but if an angel could speak to us of heaven, he would smile and say, "All these fine things are but child's talk, and ye are little children, and ye cannot understand the greatness of eternal bliss; and therefore God has given you a child's horn-book, and an alphabet, in which you may learn the first rough letters of what heaven is, but what it is thou dost not know. O mortal, thine eye hath never yet beheld its splendors; thine ear hath never yet been ravished with its melodies; thy heart has never been transported with its peerless joys." Yes, we may talk, and think, and guess, and dream, but we can never measure the infinite heaven which God has provided for His children. But the angels know its glory; hence a reason that they rejoice over the repenting sinner who has thus become heir to such an inheritance.

Untiring Delight

Who ever called the sea monotonous? Even to the mariner, travelling over it as he does, sometimes by the year together, there is always a freshness in the undulation of the waves, the whiteness of the foam of the breaker, the curl of the crested billow, and the frolicsome pursuit of every wave by its long train of brothers. Which of us has ever complained that the sun gave us but little variety? What though at morn he yoke the same steeds, and flash from his car the same golden glory, climb with dull uniformity the summit of the skies, then drive his chariot downward, and bid his flaming coursers steep their burning fetlocks in the western deep? Or who among us would complain loathingly of the bread which we eat, that it palls upon the sense of taste? We eat it to-day, to-morrow, the next day; we have eaten it for years which are passed; still the one unvarying food is served upon the table, and bread remains the staff of life. Translate these earthly experiences into heavenly mysteries. If Christ is your food and your spiritual bread; if Christ is your sun, your heavenly light; if Christ is the sea of love in which your passions swim, and all your joys are found, it is not possible that you as Christian men, should complain of monotony in Him. "He is the same yesterday, to-day, and forever;" and yet He has the "dew of His youth." He is like the manna in the golden pot, which was always the same; but he is also like the manna which came down from heaven, every morning new. He is as the rod of Moses, which was dry, and changed not its shape; but he is also to us as the rod of Aaron, which buds, and blossoms, and brings forth almonds.

The Joy of Pardon

O what a joyous thing it is to have a ray of heavenly sunlight in the soul, and to hear the very voice of God as He walks in the garden of our souls in the cool of the day, saying to us, "Son, thy sins which are many, are all forgiven thee." The whisper of that heavenly voice may raise our heart to bliss almost divine. It confers a joy not to be equalled by all the pleasures, the riches, and the enjoyments of this world can afford. To have the divine kiss of acceptance, to be robed in the best robe, to wear the ring on the hand and the shoes on the feet, to hear the heavenly music and dancing with which returning prodigals are welcomed to their Father's house—this, indeed, is bliss and blessedness worth worlds to realize.

True Blessing

Christ, when He blesses, blesses not in word only, but in deed. The lips of truth cannot promise more than the hands of love will surely give.

Needless Poverty

Many a believer lives in the cottage of doubt when he might live in the mansion of faith.

The Spirit of Praise

"Bless the Lord, O my soul: and all that is within me, bless His holy name." Wake up my memory, and find matter for the song. Tell what God has done for me in days gone by. Fly back, ye thoughts, to my childhood, sing of cradle-mercies. Review my youth and its early favors. Sing of long-suffering grace which followed my wanderings, and bore with my rebellions. Review before my eyes that gladsome hour when first I knew the Lord, and tell over again the matchless story of His mercy. Awake up my judgment, and give measure to the music. Come forth my understanding, and weigh His lovingkindness in the balance. See if thou canst count the small dust of His mercies. See if thou canst estimate the unsearchable riches which God hath given thee in His unspeakable gift of Christ Jesus. Recount His eternal love to thee. Reckon up the treasures of that everlasting covenant which He made on thy behalf, and which was "ordered in all things and sure." Sing aloud of that divine wisdom which contrived, of that love which planned, and of that grace which carried out the scheme of thy redemption. "Bless the Lord, O my soul!" For doth not all nature around me praise Him? If I were silent I should be an exception to the universe. Doth not the thunder praise Him as it rolls like drums in the march of the God of Armies? Do not the mountains praise Him when the woods upon their summits wave in adoration? Does not the lightning write His name in letters of fire upon the midnight darkness? Hath not the whole earth a voice, and shall I, can I, be silent? "Bless the Lord, O my soul."

Strength through Joy

It is when the mind is happy that it can be laborious. "The joy of the Lord is your strength."

Rejoice Always

Whenever a Christian man yields to a mournful, desponding spirit, under his trials; when he does not seek grace from God to battle manfully and cheerfully with trouble; when he does not ask his heavenly Father to give him strength and consolation whereby he may be enabled to rejoice in the Lord at all times, he does dishonor to the high, and mighty, and noble principles of Christianity, which are fitted to bear a man up, and make him happy even in times of the deepest affliction. It is the boast of the gospel that it lifts the heart above trouble; it is one of the glories of our religion that it makes us say, "Although the fig-tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vine, the labor of the olive shall fail, and the field shall yield no meat, yet will I rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation."

Christian Gladness

Eminent as David was for his piety, he was equally eminent for the joyfulness and gladness of his heart. It is often thought by worldly people, that the contemplation of divine things has a tendency to depress the spirits. Now, there is no greater mistake. No man is so happy, but he would be happier still if he had religion. The man who has a fulness of earthly pleasure, would not lose any part of his happiness, had he the grace of God in his heart; rather that joy would add sweetness to all his prosperity; it would strain off many of the bitter dregs from his cup, and show him how to extract more honey from the honeycomb. Godliness can make the most melancholy joyful, while it can make the joyous ones more joyful still, lighting up the face with a heavenly gladness, making the eyes sparkle with tenfold more brilliance; and happy as the worldly man may be, he shall find that there is sweeter nectar than he has ever drunk before, if he comes to the fountain of atoning mercy; if he knows that his name is registered in the book of everlasting life. Temporal mercies will then have the charm of redemption to enhance them. They will be no longer to him as shadowy phantoms which dance for a transient hour in the sunbeam. He will account them more precious because they are given to him, as it were, in some codicils of the divine testament, which hath promise of the life which now is, as well as of that which is to come. While goodness and mercy follow him all the days of his life, he will be able to stretch forth his grateful anticipations to the future when he shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever, and to say with the Psalmist, "Thou hast made me most blessed forever: Thou hast made me exceeding glad with Thy countenance."

Wherein Ye Greatly Rejoice

"Wherein ye greatly rejoice, though now for a season, if need be, ye are in heaviness." And can a Christian "greatly rejoice" while he is "in heaviness?" Yes, most assuredly he can. Mariners tell us that there are some parts of the sea where there is a strong current upon the surface going one way, while, down in the depths there is a strong current running the other way. Two seas also do not meet and interfere with one another, but one stream of water on the surface is running in one direction, and another below in an opposite direction. Now, the Christian is like that. On the surface there is a stream of heaviness rolling in dark waves, but down in the depths there is a strong under-current of great rejoicing which is always flowing there. Do you ask what is the cause of this great rejoicing? The apostle tells us, "Wherein ye greatly rejoice." What does he mean? Refer to his epistle, and you will see. He is writing "to the strangers scattered throughout Pontus, etc." And the first thing which He says to them is, that they are "elect according to the foreknowledge of God." This is an assurance "wherein ye greatly rejoice." Ah! even when the Christian is most "in heaviness through manifold temptations," what a mercy it is that he can know that he is still elect of God! Any man who is assured that God "has chosen him from before the foundation of the world," may well say, "Wherein I greatly rejoice." Let us reflect on this. Before God made the heavens and the earth, or laid the pillars of the firmament in their golden sockets, He set His love upon me; upon the breast of the great High Priest He wrote my name; and in His everlasting book it stands, never to be erased—"elect according to the foreknowledge of God." Why, this may make a man's soul leap within him, and all the heaviness which the infirmities of the flesh may lay upon him shall be but as nothing; for this tremendous current of His overflowing joy shall sweep away the mill-dam of his grief. Bursting and overleaping every obstacle, it shall overflood all his sorrows till they are drowned and covered up, and shall not be mentioned any more forever. "Wherein ye greatly rejoice." Come, Christian! thou art depressed and cast down. Think for a moment: thou art chosen of God and precious. Let the bell of election ring in thine ear—that ancient Sabbath-bell of the covenant; and let thy name be heard in its notes, and say, I beseech thee, say, doth not this make thee "greatly rejoice, though now for a season, if need be, thou art in heaviness through manifold temptations?"

Again, you will see another reason. The apostle says that we are "elect through sanctification of the Spirit, unto obedience and sprinkling of the blood of Jesus Christ"—"wherein we greatly rejoice." Is the obedience of the Lord Jesus Christ girt about my loins, to be my beauty and my glorious dress? and is the blood of Jesus sprinkled upon me, to take away all my guilt and all my sin? and shall I not in this greatly rejoice? What shall there be in all the depressions of spirit which can possibly come upon me which shall make me break my harp, even though I should for a moment hang it upon the willows? Do I not expect that yet again my songs shall mount to heaven; and even now, through the thick darkness, do not the sparks of my joy appear, when I remember that I have still upon me the blood of Jesus, and still about me the glorious righteousness of the Messiah?

But the great and cheering comfort of the apostle is, that we are elect unto "an inheritance incorruptible, and undefiled, and that fadeth not away, reserved in heaven for us," even as we are reserved for it. Well may this indeed make him greatly rejoice. He is drawing near the gates of death, and his spirit is in heaviness, for he has to leave behind him all that life holds dear. Besides, sickness brings upon him naturally a depression of spirits. But you sit by him in his chamber, and you begin to talk to him of the

"Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood, Arrayed in living green."

You tell him of Canaan on the other side the Jordan—of the land which floweth with milk and honey—of the Lamb in the midst of the throne, and of all the glories which God hath prepared for them who love Him; and you see his dull eye light up with seraphic brightness, "his heaviness" is all gone, and the language of his heart is—

"On Jordan's stormy banks I stand, And cast a wishful eye To Canaan's fair and happy land, Where my possessions lie."

The anticipation of the coming glory and happiness fills him with "joy unspeakable."