Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit · Sermon No. 1450
Delivered on Lord’s-Day Morning, December 22, 1878
“They that trust in the Lord shall be as Mount Zion, which cannot be removed, but abides forever.” Psalm 125:1.
THIS is the first verse of one of the Songs of degrees. These Songs were probably sung by the pilgrims as they went up to Jerusalem, when they halted at the various stations or passed certain places of interest. It is very possible that this Psalm burst forth from joyful lips at the moment when Zion first came into sight and the worshippers gazed upon the city of their solemnities. Happy pilgrims! They had left behind them many a dreary glen and dangerous wood and now they saw in their full view their journey’s end and, therefore, they sang with all the gathered joy of days gone by. They could not have so exulted if they had not previously sorrowed. The same truth may be learned from the use of the term, “Song of degrees”—it warns us that this Psalm rises out of that which preceded it, as one step of a staircase rises above its fellow.
David had not sung the 125th Psalm if he had not first learned to sing the one hundred and twenty-fourth. If he had not been where men threatened to swallow him up quickly and found in such a case that the Lord was on his side, he could not have been quite so sure that, “they that trust in the Lord shall be as Mount Zion, which cannot be removed.” Our experiences are our instructors even concerning themselves—they shed light upon each other and we learn enough from one trial to begin to unfold the mysteries of another. The 124th Psalm must first, to some extent, be passed through so that we see that all our help lies in the Lord, or we shall never reach to the grand positiveness of this 125th and sing, “They that trust in the Lord shall be as Mount Zion.”
We have heard some of the brave expressions of Christian heroes and we have thought, “I wish I could speak with that man’s faith.” Brothers and Sisters, to possess such faith you must take with it, its owner’s trials! You may rest assured that God never gave a penny’s worth of faith to any man that it might be hoarded in a cupboard—faith is sure to be used and what is more, great faith is not possessed by those who are untrained in its need and use. It is a sword which is not girt upon a man till he has come to years and strength to use it.
I do greatly joy in that utterance of Luther when going to Worms. Some of his friends told him that he would be burned to powder, as Huss had been before him, but he laughed and said he had no fear. “If,” said he, “they shall build a fire between Wittenberg and Worms that should reach to Heaven, in the Lord’s name I would appear and step into behemoth’s mouth, between his great teeth and confess Christ and let him do his pleasure.” His joy at that time seems to have been overflowing, though his danger was manifest to all.
Now, this holy boasting sounds well, but it is not to be imitated by every baby in Grace—this man had passed through a preparatory process which brought his mind into a triumphant state, in which he was a king of men, a lion among a pack of dogs! It is not to be forgotten that there was a subsequent sinking of his soul, as in the case of Elijah, to prevent his being exalted above measure at the recollection of his own courage. For this, also, he who would have a right royal faith must stand prepared. They that do business in great waters must sail in ships fitted for stormy seas. You and I, perhaps, paddle around the shores of a quiet lake where our little boat is large enough for most purposes. We are not tested by great storms, neither is our boat held by great anchors. Our needs are not of the greatest and, therefore, our supplies are not like those of the larger craft which sail upon greater waters.
Still, one would wish to be among the Lord’s most useful servants and to that end would cheerfully accept the great risk. We would not wish to remain babies, but we desire to become full-grown men and surely David is one who has drank up the 124th Psalm as a somewhat bitter cup and then feels that he can dine upon the 125th and rise to bless the Lord who makes His people to “be as Mount Zion, which cannot be removed, but abides forever.” Note that the
metaphor which is used in the text was drawn by the pilgrims from the hill before them, or, if the Psalm does not belong to pilgrims, to all Israel. They took the comparison from that mountain with which they were best acquainted.
If they might not all see Lebanon, which lay at the northern extremity of the land—if they might not all behold the excellency of Carmel, or gaze upon the heights of Hermon—yet once in the year they must all look upon Zion, “where the tribes go up, the tribes of the Lord, unto the testimony of Israel.” The emblem was, therefore, a familiar one and I wish, sometimes, that we were more apt at sanctifying to holy uses the common objects which are round about us—these streets and houses, our own country and our own home. I am afraid our eyes are open when we seek emblems of sadness and we find them on every hedge and in any garden-plot—but we should also look at home when we need metaphors of thanksgiving with which to set forth our security and our comfort in the Lord.