Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit · Sermon No. 436
“My Beloved spoke and said unto me, Rise up, my love, my fair one and come way. For, lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone, the flowers appear on the earth, the time of the singing of birds is come and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land. The fig tree puts forth her green figs and the vines with the tender grape give a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one and come away.” Song of Solomon 2:10-13.
THE things which are seen are types of the things which are not seen. The works of creation are pictures to the children of God of the secret mysteries of Divine Grace. God’s Truths are the apples of gold and the visible creatures are the baskets of silver. The very seasons of the year find their parallel in the little world of man within. We have our winter— dreary howling winter—when the north wind of the Law rushes forth against us, when every hope is nipped, when all the seeds of joy lie buried beneath the dark clods of despair, when our soul is fast fettered like a river bound with ice, without waves ofjoy, or flowings of thanksgiving.
Thanks be unto God, the soft south wind breathes upon our soul and at once the waters of desire are set free, the spring of love comes on, flowers of hope appear in our hearts, the trees of faith put forth their young shoots, the tone of the singing of birds comes in our hearts, and we have joy and peace in believing through the Lord Jesus Christ. That happy springtide is followed in the Believer by a rich summer, when his Graces, like fragrant flowers, are in full bloom, loading the air with perfume. And fruits of the Spirit like citrons and pomegranates swell into their full proportion in the genial warmth of the Sun of Righteousness.
Then comes the Believer’s autumn, when his fruits grow ripe and his fields are ready for the harvest. The time has come when his Lord shall gather together his “pleasant fruits,” and store them in Heaven. The feast of ingathering is at hand—the time when the year shall begin anew, an unchanging year, like the years of the right hand of the Most High in Heaven. Now, Beloved, each particular season has its duty. The husbandman finds that there is a time to plow, a time to sow, a time to reap. There is a season for vintage and a period for the pruning of the vine. There is a month for the planting of herbs and for the ingathering of seeds.
To everything there is a time and a purpose, and every season has its special labor. It seems, from the text, that whenever it is springtide in our hearts, then Christ’s voice may be heard saying, “Arise, My love, My fair one and come away.” Whenever we have been delivered from a dreary winter of temptation or affliction, or tribulation—whenever the fair spring of hope comes upon us and our joys begin to multiply, then we should hear the Master bidding us seek after something higher and better. And we should go forth in His strength to love Him more and serve Him more diligently than ever before.
This I take to be the Truth of God taught in the text, and it shall be the subject of this morning’s discourse. And to any with whom the time of the singing of birds is come, in whom the flowers appear—to any such I hope the Master may speak till their souls shall say, “My Beloved spoke and said unto me, rise up, My love, My fair one and come away.” I shall use the general principle in illustration of four or five different cases.
I. First, with regard to THE UNIVERSAL CHURCH OF CHRIST. In looking upon her history, with only half an eye, you can plainly perceive that she has had her ebbs and flows. Often it seemed as if her tide retired—ungodliness, heresy, error prevailed. But she has had her flood tide when once again the glorious waves have rolled in, covering with their triumphant righteousness the sands of ignorance and evil. The history of Christ’s Church is a varied year of many seasons. She has had her high and noble processions of victory. She has had her sorrowful congregations of mourners during times of disaster and apparent defeat.
Commencing with the life of Christ, what a smiling spring it was for the world when the Holy Spirit was poured out in Pentecost. Then might the saints sing with sweet accord—
“The Jewish wintry state is gone, The mists are fled, the spring comes on. The sacred turtle dove we hear, Proclaim the new, the joyful year. The immortal vine of heavenly root, Blossoms and buds and gives her fruit; Lo, we are come to taste the wine, Our souls rejoice and bless the vine.” The winter was over and past—that long season in which the Jewish state lay dead, when the frosts of Phariseeism had bound up all spiritual life. The rain was over and gone, the black clouds of wrath had emptied themselves upon the Savior’s head. Thunder and tempest and storm—all dark and terrible things—were gone forever.
The flowers appeared on the earth—three thousand in one day blossomed forth, baptized in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ. Fair promises created for beauty and delight sprang up and with their blessed fulfillment, clothed the earth in a royal garment of many colors. The time of the singing birds was come, for they praised God day and night, eating their bread with joy and singleness of heart. The voice of the turtle was heard, for the Spirit—that hallowed dove from Heaven—descended with tongues of fire upon the Apostles and the Gospel was preached in every land.