He shall not be afraid of evil tidings. — Ps 112:7
Christian, you ought not to dread the arrival of evil tidings; because if you are distressed by them—how are you different than men of the world? Other men have not your God to fly to; they have never proved His faithfulness as you have done, and it is no wonder if they are bowed down with alarm and cowed with fear. But you profess to be of another spirit; you have been begotten again unto a lively hope, and your heart lives in heaven and not on earthly things; now, if you are seen to be as anxious as other men—what is the value of that grace which you profess to have received? Where is the dignity of that new nature which you claim to possess?
Again, if you should be filled with alarm, as others are, you would, doubtless, be led into the sins so common to others under trying circumstances. The ungodly, when they are overtaken by evil tidings, rebel against God; they murmur, and think that God deals harshly with them. Will you fall into that same sin? Will you provoke the Lord as they do? Moreover, unconverted men often run to wrong means in order to escape from difficulties, and you will be sure to do the same if your mind yields to the present pressure.
Trust in the Lord, and wait patiently for Him. Your wisest course is to do as Moses did at the Red Sea, “Stand still and see the salvation of God!” For if you give way to fear when you hear of evil tidings, you will be unable to meet the trouble with that calm composure which nerves for duty, and sustains under adversity. How can you glorify God—if you play the coward? Saints have often sung God’s high praises in the fires but will your doubting and desponding, as if you had none to help you, magnify the Most High? Then take courage, and relying in sure confidence upon the faithfulness of your covenant God, “let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.”
A people near unto him. — Ps 148:14
The dispensation of the old covenant was that of distance. When God appeared even to His servant Moses, He said, “Do not come any closer. Take off your sandals, for you are standing on holy ground.” And when He manifested Himself upon Mount Sinai, to His own chosen and separated people, one of the first commands was, “You shall set bounds about the mount.” Both in the sacred worship of the tabernacle and the temple, the thought of distance was always prominent. The mass of the people did not even enter the outer court. Into the inner court—none but the priests might dare to intrude; while into the innermost place, or the holy of holies, the high priest entered but once in the year. It was as if the Lord in those early ages—would teach man that sin was so utterly loathsome to Him, that He must treat men as lepers to be put outside the camp. And when He came nearest to them, He yet made them feel the width of the separation between a holy God and an impure sinner.
When the gospel came, we were placed on quite another footing. The word “Go” was exchanged for “Come”; distance was made to give place to nearness, and we who aforetime were afar off, were made near by the blood of Jesus Christ. Incarnate Deity has no wall of fire about it. “Come unto me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest,” is the joyful proclamation of God as He appears in human flesh. He no longer teaches the leper his leprosy—by setting him at a distance but by Himself suffering the penalty of His defilement!
What a state of safety and privilege is this nearness to God through Jesus! Do you know it by experience? If you know it, are you living in the power of it? Marvelous is this nearness—yet it is to be followed by a dispensation of greater nearness still, when it shall be said, “The tabernacle of God is with men, and He will dwell among them.” Hasten it, O Lord!
Morning and Evening - September 15
Public domain content taken from Morning and Evening by Charles H. Spurgeon.