FOOTNOTES:
[1] In a river we see not only excellence and abundance, but freshness. A pool is the same thing over again, and gradually it becomes a stagnant pond, breeding corrupt life and pestilential gases. A river is always the same, yet never the same; it is ever in its place, yet always moving on. Filled to the brim with living water, even as in ages long gone by, and yet flowing fresh from the spring, it is an ancient novelty. We call our own beautiful river, “Father Thames,” yet he wears no furrows on his brows, but leaps in all the freshness of youth. You shall live by the banks of a river for years, and yet each morning its stream shall be as fresh as though its fountain had been unsealed but an hour ago when the birds began to awake the morning and the sun to sip the dews. Is it not so with our Lord Jesus Christ? Is He not evermore as bright and fresh as when first you met with Him?—Spurgeon.
[2] Is Christ a river? then drink of Him, all of you. To be carried along on the surface of Christianity, like a man in a boat, is not enough, you must drink or die. Many are influenced by the externals of religion, but Christ is not in them; they are on the water, but the water is not in them; and if they continue as they are they will be lost. A man may be in a boat on a river and yet die of thirst if he refuses to drink; and so you may be carried along and excited by a revival, but unless you receive the Lord Jesus into your soul by faith, you will perish after all.—Spurgeon.
[3] If Christ be like a river, let us be like the fishes, live in it. The fish is an ancient Christian emblem for Jesus and His people. I sat under a beech-tree some months ago in the New Forest; I gazed up into it, measured it, and marked the architecture of its branches, but suddenly I saw a little squirrel leap from bough to bough, and I thought, “After all, this beech-tree is far more to you than me, for you live in it. It delights me, it instructs me, and it affords me shade, but you live in it and upon it.” So we know something about rivers, and they are very useful to us, but to the fish the river is its element, its life, its all. So, my brethren, let us not merely read about Christ, and think of Him, and speak of Him, but let us live on Him, and in Him, as the squirrel in the tree and the fish in the river. Live by Him, and live for Him: you will do both if you live in Him.—Spurgeon.
[See also Outlines, [Rivers of Waters,] xxx. 25, 26, and [Enriching Rivers,] xxxiii. 21.]
Comfort in Christ.
xxxii. 2. As the shadow of a great rock in a weary land.
This chapter begins with a prophecy of the Messiah, and of the happiness which the godly should enjoy under His reign (ver. 1). True as well as beautiful are its descriptions of Christ.
I. To the children of God this world is often “a weary land.” 1. Because of the labours they have to undergo. This is a laborious world (Eccles. i. 8). Employment is in itself a blessing; it was provided for man in Eden; but every day the sun sets upon millions who are faint and weary, who are overwrought, and for whom there will be no sufficient rest until they lie down in the grave. To God’s children it is a special cause of weariness that they are compelled to devote so much time in labouring for “the meat which perisheth,” and that they have so little time for meditation and for communion with God. 2. Because of the troubles to which they are exposed (Job v. 7). Troubles attend every stage and condition of life. They are national, domestic, personal. The pains and evils of life commonly increase as its length is protracted. And there is nothing more wearisome than troubles. Many who can endure labour cannot endure trouble. This makes the heart stoop, and weakens the mind as well as the body. A troublesome world must be a wearisome world. 3. Because of the perplexities by which they are harassed. This is a dark world. What is past, what is present, as well as what is to come, lies involved in darkness. Life is full of mystery. Strange and unexpected events are constantly happening, which disappoint the hopes and frustrate the designs of the wisest. Providence often baffles the interpretation and tries the faith even of the most devout. Wickedness is often triumphant, and virtue trampled under foot. Good men are often tired of living in a world which subjects them to continual anxiety and suspense. 4. Because of the sin by which they are surrounded. The moral atmosphere in which they live is uncongenial. The practices and principles with which they are daily brought into contact fill them with disgust, with indignation, and with grief (2 Pet. ii. 7, 8; Ps. cxix. 139, 156, 158; Acts xvii. 16; Ezek. ix. 4).
II. Whensoever God’s children are weary of the world, they may find comfort in Christ. They may always find comfort. 1. In the compassion of Christ. He knows what it is to be faint and weary. He knows the heart of a pilgrim and stranger. And He has the tenderest compassion for His friends in distress or want. He is as pitiful to-day as He was when He tabernacled on earth. He feels all that His followers feel (Acts ix. 2; Heb. iv. 14–16). 2. In the intercession of Christ. As He prayed for Peter (Luke xii. 32) and for all His disciples before His crucifixion (John xvii.), so He still makes intercession for His followers according to their necessities. And His intercession is always prevalent (John xi. 42). 3. In the strength of Christ. Weakness is the cause of weariness, and the weary may always find the strength they want in Christ (Phil. iv. 13; 2 Cor. xii. 7–10). 4. In the government of Christ. He has promised to give them peace even in this world (John xiv. 27; xvi. 33; xiv. 2, 3). These are great and precious promises, because they are sure promises.