Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit · Sermon No. 1696
Delivered at the Thursday Evening Lecture
“Our soul is escaped as a bird out of the snare of the fowlers; the snare is broken, and we are escaped.” Psalm 124:7.
THIS text describes a soul-matter. The Psalmist is not speaking of a temporal deliverance, although, even in that sense, an escape from death would be a theme worthy of his sweetest song. He says, “Our soul is escaped as a bird out of the snare of the fowlers,” thus denoting a spiritual rescue. The man’s soul is the soul of the man and though some give all their attention to the body, their folly is great. It is as though a man should spend all his substance upon his house and have no bread for himself to eat. Do I speak to any who never think about their souls? Do you really believe that you will die like dogs and horses? I cannot believe that you have such brutal views of yourself! Believe me, you have within you an immortal spirit which will outlive the sun! If you have, up to now, been careless of your nobler part, may God’s Spirit teach you wisdom. I pray that you may so think of your soul that our text may become deeply interesting to you, so that you may join in its song of deliverance.
I have called the text a song—does it not read like one? “Our soul is escaped as a bird out of the snare of the fowlers; the snare is broken, and we are escaped.” It is a canticle of certainty. It does not say, “We hope that we have escaped and we trust that the snare is broken,” but, “The snare is broken, and we are escaped.” “Ifs,” and, “buts,” make no music! Poetry flees when chance enters! Certainties are melodies. We hear people speak of “dead certainties,” but the Christian rejoices in living certainties, and is wretched till they are his own! Rise then, my Beloved, above the fogs and mists which cover the marshes of carnal questioning! Climb the mountains of full assurance and stand there with your foreheads bathed in sunlight, breathing that serene atmosphere which is untainted by a cloud of doubt!
The text reads like a song, not only because of its certainty, but also because of its joy. It has the wing and the throat of a lark! Look how it rises from the net to God—“Our soul is escaped as a bird out of the snare of the fowlers.” Soon it takes another rise—“The snare is broken.” And it mounts yet, again, with still greater joy—“And we are escaped.” The words melt away into the music of Heaven as the spirit perfectly escapes from the snares of earth. The metaphor used in the text is simple, but yet beautiful and instructive. Pardon me if I make as much of it as I am able to do. First, we have here the bird. Secondly, the snare. Thirdly, the capture, and fourthly, the escape. We may then add a lesson from it all.
I. First, we have, here, the soul compared to A BIRD. It is a little bird, too—a sparrow, or one of the sparrow kind. “Our soul is escaped as a little bird”—not as a great bird that could break the net and free itself by its own force. A little bird fitly represents our soul when we are lowly in heart. In our unregenerate condition, we think ourselves eaglets, at the very least, but we are not great creatures, after all. We talk as great men, but we are all little in God’s sight. “Lord, what is man, that You are mindful of him?” Sparrows were very cheap in our Lord’s day because of their littleness—in the market you could buy two for a farthing and five for two farthings—so that they threw an odd bird in when you bought at such a wholesale rate as two farthings’ worth. Sparrows were inconsiderable things, “yet not one of them falls to the ground without your Father.” If He cares for sparrows, be sure He cares for souls! And when you think least of yourself, yet believe that the Lord regards you.
Again, our soul is like a little bird because it is so ignorant. Birds know little about snares, yet they know so much that, “surely in vain is the net spread in the sight of any bird.” Even this slender wisdom is more than men display, for they fly into the net when it is spread in their sight! Yes, into the same net out of which, in God’s Providence, they have just been permitted to escape! Man naturally is the essence of folly and he is desperately set on destroying himself. He must “see life,” he says and, therefore, he haunts the gates of death! He reckons the fowler to be his friend and dreams that he spreads his nets for purposes of friendly hospitality! He does not know that the fowler is hunting for his life and
will destroy him if he can. So foolish are we and ignorant, we are as birds ready for the snare, till the Lord teaches us wis-dom—and even then we need hourly keeping, or we are entrapped by the Destroyer.
Our soul is often like a little bird because it is so eager and venturesome. How birds will trust themselves in winter around traps of the simplest kind if but a few crumbs are used as bait! Alas, men are equally foolhardy—they see others perish, yet they follow their ways! Many sip of the intoxicating cup, yet declare they will never be drunks! They pilfer a little and yet they despise a thief! They indulge in wanton words, but vow to be chaste as snow! They go into questionable places of amusement, but hope to remain pure. Oh, silly birds! I mean silly souls! Thus the fowler fills his bags. Young people associate with ungodly persons and say, “We are not so weak-minded as to be led away by them”—thus displaying a weak mind by that boastful speech!