It is only by a personal experience of the power of any portion of God's word that we can truly understand it. We may even have heard one of the Lord's servants preach from it with spiritual power, or may have read a correct exposition of it, and yet what we have heard or read rests in our memories as a mere natural theory, of the correctness of which we may be uncertain, until the Lord by his Holy Spirit, applies it in our own experience. Then the words are indeed "spirit and life" to us; our understanding of their meaning becomes clear and settled, independent of any earthly teacher; and the true preaching or writing that memory has kept is brought back to us and becomes spiritual food and nourishment.

I know that I have been taught in some measure, and daily feel, my own great weakness and utter inability in spiritual things. I am very poor in spirit, and truly feel that it is of the Lord's mercies that I am not consumed. But the Lord has been pleased to give me some sweet tokens of his love, and I can never cease wondering at it. It is such wonderful love that could be placed upon such a vile sinner. And more wonderful still, that he should speak through one so ignorant and unworthy to the comfort of any of his dear children. But the Lord is not limited. He speaks by whom he will speak. I speak of these things because they rest with solemn weight upon my mind as I write. I have sometimes felt my sin, and ignorance, and darkness to be so great, and my nature to be so utterly corrupt in the light of God's holiness, and have felt so oppressed by the burden, that I would say to myself, It can not be that I am one of the Lord's people. He cannot love one so wretchedly vile as I. And I would seem to see a mountain, as it were, between him and me, that made it impossible for me even to try to pray. I could not look towards his holy throne. I could not feel any assurance that I truly loved him, for it seemed that the holy love of God could not exist in one so unholy. And then, right in the midst of such a wild, tangled wilderness of wretchedness, that made any favor from God appear impossible, I have all at once felt my poor heart melted down with tender contrition and love, and could feel, as I do tonight, that I did truly love the dear Lord, the blessed, holy Savior, and that my soul panted for him as the hart panteth after the water-brooks. And I could cry out to him, and with strong urgency of spirit, could supplicate his mercy, calling upon him by the most endearing names, and stretching out my arms to him with that yearning of spiritual affection and desire that can only be satisfied by his presence, felt in the soul, by the strong and tender embraces of his right hand, and "the kisses of his mouth." At such a time, feeling deeply my own ignorance and poverty and weakness, and with ail my spiritual desires awakened, and calling for heavenly supplies, I can say in the holy and clinging confidence of love,

"Tell me, 0 thou whom my soul loveth, where thou feedest, where thou makest thy flocks to rest at noon." This is one strain in the "Song of songs," which is Solomon�s the song of redeeming love; the inspired expression of the communion between the risen and ascended Savior, of whom Solomon was a type, and his people. Called the "Song of songs," not much as being the best song, but as being the only song, of which all natural songs are but types. When once we have learned this song, it becomes at once the only song in which there is music for us; and when our souls can not enjoy this, they can enjoy nothing. There is no other "voice of melody" for us. The music of song awakens the highest and tenderest emotions of our nature, which are also most fully expressed in song. So the sweet communications of love from our dear Redeemer to his people, as they are in the soul, and the holy, spiritual emotions of love and joy and sacred desires which are created and called forth by them, to which the Holy Ghost has here given expression, are called a song. It is our song, for the Savior and his people are one, and they are so perfectly one with each other in spiritual experience, that they are here represented as one, the chosen for one of Christ, whose words express the feelings of every saint. The distinguishing doctrine of salvation is as clearly set forth throughout this song as in any other part of the Scriptures. However, we may differ in the thoughts and utterances of our carnal minds, there is no shadow of discord in our spiritual experience. The true doctrine is there and when the word and doctrine of the Scriptures are applied to our experience by the Holy Spirit, it is full of sweet melody to our souls.

The expression, "Tell me, O thou whom my soul loveth," shows the desire of the quickened soul to receive direction from the Savior's own voice, knowing that he only can direct Barely and safely. In this ease, the child of God is evidently represented as feeling very deeply the vileness and depravity of his carnal nature, which is "black as the tents of Kedar," groaning under the prevailing power of his sinful propensities, and feeling the tired of food froth the hands of the Savior to nourish and strengthen his spiritual nature, that its fruits and graces may be more felt in his heart and manifested in his life. How often are we in such a case, when it seems as though our spiritual life, if we have any, is at a very low ebb; when our thoughts appear mostly of a worldly nature, our feelings cold, our hearts hard; when we seem to have very little power against our evil passions that rise up and assert their strength to torment us; when we are burdened in an especial manner because we can not do the things we would, but continually do the things we would not; when the word of truth as we read or hear it, and the ordinances of the gospel, are without life or power to our souls; when we feel as though we had no trite religion at all, for we can not enjoy it in our souls, nor manifest it as we want to in our lives. We are in an extremity. We almost give up. But the Lord will not let his work die out in the hearts of his people. His grace fans the fading spark of love, and he gives us a spirit of supplication, so that we can draw near and call upon him, and make known our wants, as in the words of the text.

"Where thou feedest." We may know where his church is, and where the gospel is preached, and may have the privilege of hearing it, and may see others feeding and rejoicing while they feet their spiritual strength renewed; but we can not get to the spiritual place where they are feeding. Our souls remain in a dry and barren land. The Savior only can bring us to the banqueting house. He only can lead us by the still waters, and make us lie down in the green pastures. While we are in this desolate condition: we are peculiarly exposed to the power of temptations and soul afflictions, and to the fiery darts of the enemy; and we suffer under these fiery trials as a sheep would suffer and pant under the powerful rays of the sun at noon. Under the noonday heat of trial, temptation, persecution, and affliction, the Savior is to his people "as the shadow of a great rock in a weary land." But he only can cause us to enjoy that sweet shelter; he only can bring us to the place where he makes his flock to rest at noon.

"For why should I be as one who turneth aside by the flocks of thy companions?" These flocks are placed in contrast with the Savior's flock, and can not, therefore: belong to that flock. These companions are those who also have flocks, professing to be true shepherds, but whose profession is false. Those of the Lord's children who turn aside from the truth and join with those false professors in their erroneous doctrine and practices, find no spiritual food, or shelter, or rest there. It is to them a scorched, desolate, barren land. where they starve, like the prodigal, upon husks. But here is one, who, though perhaps connected with the church, and firm in the faith, is yet as famished as one who turns aside. Hence, the question, Since I do love thee, and hold the truth and ordinances of thy house precious, why should I be destitute and comfortless as one who turns away from the truth?

"If thou knowest not 0 thou fairest among women." In the response of our Saviour he intimates the discriminating favor and love with which He regards His people. When we hear His voice of love, we feel at the same time, something of the cleansing and beautifying power of His blood and righteousness, and so receive the sweet assurance that we are comely through the comeliness that he has put upon us. But in the peculiar expression, "If thou knowest not," there would seem to be implied a question whether we, may not know. after all, that about which we have prayed for knowledge. And I think we have sometimes felt the power of this. "If thou knowest not" in our own souls, when, after having desired and prayed perhaps for a long time, for a return of spiritual enjoyment, for a more manifest growing in grace, for a knowledge of the place where the Savior feeds His sheep, we have finally been made to acknowledge that the way had been hedged up, rather by the cross than by darkness. And asking for direction or for comfort, may sometimes really be asking for a way less difficulty and trial, of less persecution, self-denial, and mortification of the flesh, than the one that we have secretly felt in our souls was the way we ought to go. Our frequent hesitation to go in the path of trial, taking our cross, may be gent]y reproved here by the words, "If thou knowest not," while we are again more plainly pointed to the way the saints have ever trod.

"Go thy way forth by the footsteps of the flock." Had we felt assured that we were following the footsteps of the flock? We must look again, look more closely, and as the apostle directs us, "examine ourselves whether we be in the faith, whether we be in the way" "Go thy way forth" forth from thyself; forth from the world, forth from the path of earthly ease and self-indulgence. Look again at the footsteps of the flock, as they are clearly marked out in the Scriptures. Do they not invariably lead through great tribulation; through deep waters of sorrow and trial; through self-denial, mortification of the carnal mind, and crucifixion of the flesh with its affections and lusts? In going our way forth by the footsteps of the flock, we have to wage a constant warfare with a thousand forms of sin, with the inclinations of our deceitful hearts, and the worldly leadings of our carnal minds, as well as with the many enemies that oppose our way from without. It is necessarily a path of suffering. The footsteps of the flock follow their Leader's steps, and they know the fellowship of his suffering. His direction is, "If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me." The precepts of our Savior, and the exhortations of the apostles, as well as the history of the "great cloud of witnesses," all point out the footsteps of the flock to lead through self-denial. How often we sleep when we should wake and watch, rest when we should be fighting, shrink from some sacrifice of worldly interest or comfort when we should go forward. And then we have to mourn a decline of spiritual enjoyment. But the Savior is so kind, so tender with our frailties and weaknesses, so long-suffering'. "He knoweth our frame; he remembereth that we are dust." When we cry unto him in our spiritual destitution, he hears us, and does not despise our prayer. But he points us gently to the wa5, again: "Go thy way forth by the footsteps of the flock." Through great tribulation we must enter the kingdom of heaven. We must be crucified before we can enjoy spiritual life, must sorrow before we can rejoice, must suffer with the Savior before we can rejoice with him.

"And feed thy kids beside the shepherd�s tents." "How goodly are thy tents, O Israel." "How amiable are thy tabernacles, O Lord of hosts." These tents are the churches of the living God, where the living family or flock of God is fed. Those who inhabit these spiritual tents have come through a very narrow path, between the upper and the nether millstone. "Bread corn is bruised," and thus they have been prepared to become "one bread and one body." When we have gone down to the depths of our own depravity by new and painful experiences of it, learned our helplessness anew. been killed again and again to self and to the world, we come more clearly into view of the Shepherd's tents, and into nearer and sweeter fellowship with the Lord's people, who have been brought through the same killing exercises of soul into gospel life and liberty, and into a deeper appreciation of the blessedness of the truth as it is in Jesus. Here we find where the Lord feeds. How new, and fresh, and good the preaching sometimes seems to us after some such deep and trying exercises of soul. We may have been favored with a hope for years, and with a valued place in the church, yet how new and doubly dear and delightful the truth and gospel privileges, and the faces, and fellowship, and communion of the brethren, now appear to us. Through new and deeper trials of soul we have traced the footsteps of the flock still farther experimentally, and have come nearer than ever to the Shepherd's tents, and to the faithful witnesses who have gone before us. Here, after the weary way, how delicious is the fare of the flock, how sweet the heavenly pastures, how refreshing the still waters, how calm and soothing the rest under the shadow of his wing. What care we now for the pleasures, honors, applause, ease, or comfort of the world? All we want is to see the Savior's face, to hear his loving voice, to feel the balmy breath of heavenly peace and joy.

Here we can feed our kids I can not understand that these kids represent people, either elect or non-elect, either members of the church, or quickened souls who are not members. The church is addressed, the bride of Christ, and the address is therefore to every one who has these Heavenly desires, whose soul loves the Savior, and longs for his presence and guidance, whether connected with the visible church or not. There are, no doubt, always many of the Lord's people outside the visible church, and in Babylon, but I do not understand that they are represented in the Scriptures as belonging to the church, and as being under her care, or under the care of the follower of Christ, as a flock of kids. The Savior's testimony and gifts are in the churches. Ps., cxxii. 4; Rev. xxii, 16, and are not represented as being sent outside or into Babylon to feed and nurse those of his people who may be there. But he himself cares for these, saying, "He that hath an ear to hear, let him hear what the Spirit saith unto the churches:" and when He will, he brings them also to the Shepherd's tents by the same words, "Go thy way forth," and bids them also feed their kids there. This direction to feed their kids is in answer to the desire expressed in the words, "Tell me where thou feedest." This desire is that our souls may be fed, that our spiritual strength may be renewed, that the fruit and graces of the Spirit may be nourished, and more fully felt and manifested by us. Every Christian is, in this figure, a shepherd, who has a flock of very tender kids to watch and nourish. Are not these kids the graces of the Spirit? Love, peace, joy, meekness, faith, patience, and the like? How delicate and tender these are. At one time they seem to be thriving and flourishing, and we can rejoice in them. At another time, through a little neglect, a cold wind, a feeding on unwholesome food, they seem ready to die. How soon they dwindle away when we carry them into the miry swamps of politics or worldly business and cares, bury them in mines where worldly riches are dug, lead them into the luxuriant growth of worldly pleasures, upon the mountains of ambition, or into the flowery fields of worldly literature. They can not thrive on what is found in these places, and soon we feel our love grow cold, our spiritual joys fade away, our faith becomes inactive, and patience and hope lose their strength, and our interest ii1 spiritual things, ill the ordinances, and duties, and privileges of the church decline. Our kids arc in a poor condition, while the lusts of the flesh, the lust of the eye, and the pride of life, those hateful wild beasts of the wilderness of our carnal nature, and fierce antagonists of our spiritual well-being, of our tender kids, come forth fat and strong. But when we are enabled by prevailing grace to "go forth" again from these worldly places, take our spiritual place again in the church, seek first the kingdom of heaven, make spiritual duties and privileges our chief concern, continue instant in prayer, read the Bible rather than worldly literature, and daily "seek those things which are above, where Christ sitteth on the right hand of God," then, in so doing, we deny food to our carnal desires, and feed these kids, the graces of the Spirit, with food convenient for them. The preaching of the gospel, the sincere milk of the word, nourishes them. They grow and thrive in communion with the saints, in acts of brotherly kindness and charity, and in all the duties and exercises enjoined upon us in the gospel. False doctrine acts as poison to them; but sound doctrine, the truth as it is in Jesus, heard with an attentive ear, received into an humble, understanding mind, and sinking like dew into an exercised, broken, and contrite heart, causes them to be fat and flourishing. And thus through grace, rich and reigning grace alone, the child of God, deeply humbled and restored in soul, is sometimes permitted to feel the fruit of the Spirit, abounding within, to his comfort, and manifested in his life to the honor and praise of God, and thus to experience an, abundant entrance into the joys of his Lord.

Please direct your comments to Mike Krall.

BACK TO MAIN MENU