Meditations. MEDITATION VI. CANTICLES i. 3. Thy name is as ointment poured forth; therefore do the virgins love thee. THY name, dear Lord, is sweeter to my soul than fragrant ointment to the faint and weary. Jesus! what music to the sinner's ears; the dearest, greatest, sweetest name that heaven or earth affords. What name like thine sheds joy and blessing on the holy souls above? what name like thine diffuses peace and hope on guilty souls below? Thou art the all in all. Make me, Lord, to taste and see how gracious thou art; shed abroad in my heart a sweet savour of thy ointment, from thee, my glorious High Priest; let the precious balm run down on me, the meanest of thy members: I am called by thy name, let me partake of thine anointing. I love thee, O Lord, my Saviour; I wish to love thee more. My heart, oh that it might be a chaste virgin's heart for thee, nor wander after other lovers: bind my affections to thee stronger than death; one spirit with thee may I henceforth be in mystic union join me to thyself, and in that train may I be found of virgin souls, that, separated from the defilements of the world, of flesh, and sense, follow thee, thou Lamb of God, whithersoever thou leadest them. Meditations. MEDITATION VII. PSALM 1xxxiv. 1, 2. How amiable are thy tabernacles, O Lord of hosts! My soul longeth, yea, even fainteth for the courts of the Lord: my heart and my flesh crieth out for the living God. YES, Lord, thy tabernacles are indeed amiable to my soul; I was glad when they said unto me, "Let us go into the house of the Lord." Thy servant David at a distance longed, yea, even fainted with desire for these gracious opportunities I enjoy. How thankful should I be, that I can thus draw near thee; so often enjoy the welcome returning Sabbaths, and meet so often at thy table with my brethren and my companions. Lord, raise up then my longings after thee more fervently; let my heart and flesh cry out more intensely for thee; thy tabernacles are only amiable when thou dost manifest thyself in the midst of us; thy courts are then adorned, when thou, O King, appearest in thy galleries, Cant. vii. 5. Thy table is a feast indeed, when thou comest in to see the guests, and givest the welcome benediction. Today, my Lord, draw near to bless me; awaken my thankfulness, open my lips, that my mouth may shew forth thy praise; raise up my heart to thee in the heavens; from the tabernacles of thy grace may my ascending soul mount up to the Meditations. tabernacles of thy glory! How amiable these, O Lord, when shall I come to appear among the shining host which dwell for ever there? When shall my soul abide in this temple for ever, and go out no more? Thou God of my life, who hast given me to desire to see thee, thou wilt not disappoint the desires thou hast kindled. In my flesh shall I see God! Praise the Lord, O my soul. MEDITATION VIII. LUKE XXiii. 33. There they crucified him. DRAW near, my soul, and see this great sight! This is thy God who bleeds for thy iniquities! See him led, like a malefactor, through the streets of Jerusalem, and nailed like a murderer, to expire on a tree; because, thou deservest all this shame, and pain, and death, therefore he endures it for thee. Look into his wounded temples, and see how deep the thorns have pierced; his face is marred more than any man's, black with buffetings, and foul with blood; his weary head hangs down, and mingles tears with clotted gore; yet, thou dear Redeemer, thy beauty then is fairest, when thou appearest most defiled; these tears, this blood, these sorrows, are my peace, my joy, my everlasting consolation. Look up, sinful soul, and love a dying Saviour! See his hands extended wide ! they open to embrace thee! I see them Meditations. dropping down most precious streams of blood; they are iron-bound, but his love will break the chain, and stretch them forth to lift me to his throne! They now are cancelling my deadly debt; my bond of suffering is nailed with them, and torn; I see in the deep wounds of his hands, graven as with an iron pen in a rock, a pardon written with blood. Yes, Lord, I believe the chastisement of my peace is upon thee, and that by these pains I shall be healed. I look upon thy feet, Lord-they cannot as usual carry thee about doing good, but they tread now on their last weary step, and next will stand upon the everlasting hills; tired with the way, mortality hath often longed for rest; briars and thorns have torn them in the desert, and rugged paths afflicted them: but no thorns so sharp, no path so rugged as this, and no rest so needed as that sleep of death, when pain shall torment no more. How have I trod the dreadful paths of sin; how have my feet carried me from God to every vile indulgence! I see my punishment in thee; and oh that with tears I might bedew those deep and deadly nail-prints, that tell me at once my crime and my forgiveness. What ghastly wound gapes wide beneath the heart, and pours down this crimson torrent of mingled blood and water! That bloody spear declares the cause! how deep it hath gone! indignity offends the corpse, when pain can do no more. It is well. It became him to suffer these things; but why? my guilt hath made it needful; yet, my soul, thou mayest regard with astonishment the sufferer, and with detestation the authors of this black deed; but if thou wilt see the origin, knock at thy breast, Meditations. and there the murderers dwell: this sinful nature, these vile affections, this deep rebellion against the Majesty of heaven-these brought the Lamb of God to such ignominy, torment, and death. Here then at his cross let my indignation rise, here then let an holy revenge burn within my heart, here let not mine eye pity, nor my hand spare; these his enemies, his murderers, I will bring them forth, and slay them before him. Lord, let me keep back nothing from thee, who gavest thyself to such suffering for me. MEDITATION IX. HEBREWS vi. 18. That we might have a strong consolation, who have fled for refuge to lay hold upon the hope set before us. WHAT grounds of consolation doth the Scripture propose to the afflicted soul. Hunted by the devouring Law, trembling beneath the sword of Justice, unable to escape the stroke I could not endure, Mercy sets before me an open door, and, like Jael to Sisera, (but with a much more gracious intention,) invites me, faint and weary, to repose my soul under her shadow. The guilty soul, exposed to wrath eternal, here sees a beam of hope arising, and our fears, like morning clouds, pass away. Blessed be he, who hath opened and consecrated this new and living way for the despairing |