Meditations and Disquisitions Upon Seven Psalms of David, Commentary 3
MEDITATIONS upon the 38. Pſalme.
BUt is it not an abſurd requeſt, Verſe 1 to require God, not to rebuke mee in his anger; as though I thought hee would rebuke mee if hee were not angry? Is it not a ſenſleſſe ſuite, to pray to God, not to chaſten mee in his diſpleaſure; as though hee would chaſten mee if hee were not diſpleaſed? The frowardeſt natures that are, will yet be quiet as long as they be pleaſ'd: and ſhall I have ſuch a thought, of the great, yet gracious God, that hee ſhould be pleaſ'd, and yet not bee quiet? But O my ſoule, Is it all one, to rebuke in his anger, and to rebuke when hee is angry? He may rebuke when hee is angry, and yet reſtraine and bridle in his anger: but to rebuke in his anger, is to let looſe the reines to his anger: and what is it to give the reines to his anger, but to make it out-run his mercy? and then what a miſerable caſe ſhould I bee in, to have his anger to aſſault me, and not his merciemercy readie to relieve mee? to have his in dignation fall upon mee, when his loving kindneſſe were not by to take it off? Oh therefore, rebuke mee not in thine anger, O God: but let thy rebuking ſtay for thy merciemercy; chaſten mee not in thy diſpleaſure, but let thy lovingkindneſſe have the keeping of thy rod.
But though the requeſt be never ſo juſt; yet muſt it not needs be a weariſome thing to God, to have us alwaies come to him with the ſame petition, as though wee would perſecute him with importunity, and make him doe that, which he is not willing to doe? for if he were willing to grant it, hee would no doubt have done it before now; when in the ſixth Pſalme, we asked him as earneſtly for it, as we can doe in this. But O my ſoule, is importunity a fault? if it bee, it is a fault I ſhall hardly bee perſwaded ever to leave. Did Chriſt count it a fault in the woman of Canaan, who would take no anſwer; but ſtill cried after him, till hee granted her ſuite? Did not Abraham importune God five times, about the ſparing of Sodome? and did not God grant as long as hee importun'd? And may wee not thinke that if hee had continued his importunity ſtill, hee might as well have gotten Sodome to bee ſpared for one mans ſake, as hee had done for ten? Is God like man, that the importunitie of ſuitours ſhould bee a trouble to him? Can wee thinke, that God ſhould bee diſpleaſed with our importunity to him, when he is pleaſed to uſe importunity himſelfe to us? Did not God call to Samnel, three times one after another; when hee bid him go to Eli, with a meſſage? Was it not importunity which Chriſt uſed to Peter, when thrice together hee asked him, Simon ſonne of Ionas, loveſt thou mee? Indeed Peter ſeemed not well pleaſ'd with this importunity: but God never was, never will bee found to bee diſpleaſed with it. Never therefore feare to bee importunatewith God; but feare rather, thou canſt never bee importunate enough; for ſo highly is God pleaſed, or rather indeed delighted with our importunity in praying, that hee oftentimes denies the firſt ſuit of his ſervants, becauſe he would bee importun'd by a ſecond; oftentimes the ſecond, becauſe hee would have a third. Indeed, that which in ſuits to men is importunitie, in ſuits to God is fervencie and perſeverance, and ſeemes to reſemble the nature of the Seraphims; where ſingle prayer but of ordinary Angels, of whom as ſome fell, ſo this may faile, and often doth, the other never.
But though importunity bee to God moſt pleaſing alwaies: yet to us, it is then moſt neceſſary, when the cheerfull face of God is turned into frownes: and when there is a juſtly conceived feare of the continuance of his anger: and have not I juſt cauſe to feare it, having the arrowes of his anger ſticking ſo faſt in mee? if hee had meant to make me but a Butt, at which to ſhoot his arrows; he would quickly, I ſuppoſe, have taken them up againe; but now that hee leaves them ſticking in mee, what can I think, but that he meanes to make mee his quiver; and then I may looke long enough, before hee come to plucke them out. They are arrows indeed that are fethered with ſwiftneſſe, and headed with ſharpneſſe; and to give them a force in flying, they are ſhot, I may ſay, out of his Croſſe-bow, I am ſure his bow of croſſes: for no arrowes can flie ſo faſt, none pierce ſo deep, as the croſſes & afflictions with which he hath ſurprized me: I may truly ſay ſurprized me; ſeeing when I thought my ſelf moſt ſafe, and ſaid, I ſhall never be moved even then theſe arrows of his anger lighted upō me, and ſtick ſo faſt in my fleſh, that no arm but his that ſhot them, is ever able to draw them forth Oh then, as thou haſt ſtretched forth thine arme of anger, O God, to ſhoot theſe arrowes at mee; So ſtretch forth thine arme of mercy, to draw them forth; that I may rather ſing Hymns, then Dyrges unto thee: and that thou maiſt ſhew thy power, as well in pardoning, as thou haſt done in condemning. I, alas, am as an Anvile under two hammers: one, of thine anger, another of my ſinne; both of them beating inceſſantly upon mee; the hammer of thine anger, beating upon my fleſh, and making that unſound: the hammer of my ſin, beating upon my bones, and making them unquiet; although indeed both beat upon both: but thine anger more upon my fleſh, as being more ſenſible: my ſin more upon my bones, as being more obdurate. Gods anger and ſin, are the two efficient cauſes of all miſery; but the Procatarkticke cauſe indeed, is ſin: Gods anger, like the houſe that Sampſon pulled upon his own head, falls not upon us, but when we pull it upon our ſelves, by ſinne.
I know by the unſoundneſſe of my fleſh, that God is angry with me: for if it were not for his anger, my fleſh would bee ſound: but what ſoundneſſe can be in it now, when Gods angry hand lies beating upon it continually, and never ceaſeth? I know by the unquietnes of my bones, that I have ſinne in my boſome; for if it were not for ſinne, my bones would bee quiet: But what quietneſſe can bee in them now, when ſin lies gnawing upon them inceſſantly, with the worme of remorſe? one would thinke my bones were farre enough removed, and cloſely enough hidden from ſins doing them any hurt: yet ſee the ſearching nature, the venemous poyſon of ſinne, which pierceth through my fleſh, and makes unquietneſſe in my very bones.
I know my fleſh is guilty of many faults, by which it juſtly deſerves unſoundneſſe: but what have my bones done? for they miniſter no fuell to the flames of my fleſhes ſenſuality; and why then ſhould they bee troubled? But are not my bones ſupporters of my fleſh, and are they not by this, at leaſt acceſſary to my fleſhes faults? as acceſſaries then, they are ſubject to the ſame puniſhment the fleſh it ſelfe is, which is the principall.
I cannot but wonder at this condition in my ſelfe: there is nothing I more loath then ſinne, yet nothing I more willingly embrace: nothing that I more abhorre, yet nothing I more readily entertaine: what mervaile then, if their bee unſoundneſſe in my fleſh, and unquietneſſe in my bones, when I will needes bee taking ſo turbulent a gueſt, ſo deadly a poyſon as ſinne is into my boſome? and make an idoll of that, which I know ſo well to bee a monſter?
As a man that ſtands in the water, as long as it comes but to his middle, or but up to his ſhoulders, endures and beares it ſafty enough; but when it comes once to goe over his head, it then overwhelmes and preſently ſtrangles him: ſuch alas am I, my ſinne a long time, came I may ſay, but up to my ſhoulders; and then I thought my ſelfe ſafe enough; now God knowes, I am over head and eares in ſinne, and ſo overwhelmed with it, that my breath is taken from mee, and I have not ſo much as any breath of Grace remaining in me. No ſtrength is ſo great, but it may be overburdened, though Sampſon went light away with the gates of Azzah; yet when a whole houſe fell upon him, it cruſhed him to death. And ſuch, alas, am I, I have had ſin as a burden upon mee, ever ſince I was borne: but bore them a long time as light, as Sampſon did the gates of Azzah; but now that I have pulled a whole houſe of ſinne upon mee, how can I chuſe but be cruſhed to death with ſo great a weight? And cruſhed, O my Soule, thou ſhouldſt be indeed; if God for all his anger, did not take ſome pitty on thee: and for all his diſpleaſure, did not ſtay his hand from further chaſtening thee.
I know, O Lord, I have done moſt fooliſhly, to let my ſores runne ſo long, without ſeeking for helpe: For now, Verſe 5 My wounds ſtinke and are corrupt; in as ill a caſe as Lazarus body was, when it had beene foure daies buried; enough to make any man deſpaire, that did not know thee as I doe: For, doe not I know, that Nullum tempus occurrit tibi? doe not I know, thou haſt as well wiſedome to remedy my fooliſhneſſe, as power to cure my wounds? Could the grave hold Lazarus, when thou didſt but open thy mouth to call him forth? No more can the corruption of my ſores, bee any hinderance to their healing, when thy pleaſure is to have them be cured. Although therfore I have done my owne diſcretion wrong to deferre my care; yet I will not doe thy power wrong, to deſpaire of thy cure: for, how ſhould I deſpair, who know thee to be as powerfull, as thou art mercifull; if I may not rather ſay, to bee as mercifull, as thou art powerfull: Each of them indeed an Abyſſus: and when Abyſſus Abyſſum vocat, what marvell, if their follow marvells?
And as I do not deſpaire, ſo neither do I preſume: Verſe 6 For I am troubled, I am bowed downe, and go mourning all the day long. I am troubled no leſſe with the griefe of thy diſpleaſure, then with the paine of my wounds: each of them alone, juſt cauſe of mourning; but both of them together, of mourning all the day long.
I have told hertofore, how I ſpend my night: all the night I water my bed with teares. Now I tell how I ſpend my day; all the day long in mourning. And can it be, O God, thou ſhouldſt neither regard my weeping, nor my mourning? neither my weeping all night, nor my mourning all day?
If my fleſh had continued as God made it, there had been in it, both ſoundnes, and beautie; but alas, my ſinne, and his arrowes, his arrowes by reaſon of my ſin, have ſo wounded it, that it is nothing now, but a very Ciſtern of corruption: for all ſinne hath poyſon in it, and breedes diſeaſes; infinite diſeaſes in the Soule, loathſome diſeaſes in the bodie. And what will not diſeaſes doe in theſe bodies of ours? whoſe ſpirits can be ſo errect, but will bee dejected? whoſe limbes ſo ſtrong, but will bee bowed downe? whoſe heart ſo cheerefull, but will bee made to mourne with the violence of diſeaſes? And now therfore, am I dejected, I am bowed down, I gomourning all the day long and may I not ſay, with the worſt kinde of mourning, the mourning perhaps of the chyne: like Horſe and Mule that have no underſtanding? For my loynes are filled with a loathſome diſeaſe: the very diſeaſe, that made Elias, Verſe 7 and Iohn Baptiſt to weare girdles of beaſts skins about their loynes; and they with wearing ſuch girdles, prevented in themſelves, the loathſomneſſe of this diſeaſe: but I, alas, never thought of any girdle, much leſſe of Beaſts skins: and therefore the diſeaſe is now grown ſo loathſome upon mee, that it hath filled my loynes; ſo filled them, that it hath not ſo much as a ſpare room left to make a perfume in; ſo loathſome, that it makes me fit for no company but Lazars, for no place but an Hoſpitall: for how ſhould others endure the ſtinch of my ſores, when I am not able to endure it my ſelfe? how much leſſe, O God, canſt thou endure it, whoſe pure ſenſe is ſenſible, even of that impurity, which is to us inſenſible, in the ſtarres themſelves? Thou, O God, didſt vouchſafe this favour to our firſt Parents, to make them garments of Beaſts skins to cover their nakedneſſe, and may wee not be bold to think, that the Girdles of Beaſts skins, which Elias and Iohn Baptiſt wore about their loynes, were alſo of thy making? Oh then vouchſafe, O God, to give me ſuch a girdle to weare about my loynes; a girdle of continence & true mortification; which though it cannot now, as in Elias and Iohn Baptiſt it did, prevent the growth and loathſomneſſe of concupiſcence in mee: It may at leaſt, as in Mary Magdalen reſtraine it, and make mee capable of being cured.
And as I have not deſpaired, Verſe 8 nor preſumed: ſo neither have I murmured nor repined at thy chaſtiſements: I acknowledge my ſelfe moſt worthy to ſuffer them, but moſt unable to bear them. I am dejected no leſſe in body, then in ſpirit; and yet though I could not ſpeake for weakneſſe, I have roured for griefe; and the unquietnes of my heart, hath ſupplied the feeblenes of my tongue. Indeed if I could have been a Boanerges, and have gotten a voice like thunder, I ſhould have uſed it now in ſpeaking to thee; that if my importunity before could not, at leaſt my loudneſſe now might prevaile with thee, to procure thee to hear me. For I am feeble and ſore broken, I have roared through the unquietnes of my heart. All long of the unquietnes of my heart, and the unquietnes of my heart, all long of my ſin: for where ſin is, there will never be but unquietnes of heart, & an unquiet heart will alwaies produce theſe miſerable effects: Feeblenes of body, dejectedneſſe of mind, and roaring of voice.
But how can roaring ſtand with feebleneſſe, which ſeemes to require a ſtrength of ſpirits? Is it not therefore a roaring, perhaps not ſo much in lowdneſſe, as in an inarticulate expreſſing? that having done actions more like a beaſt then a man, I am forced to uſe a voice, not ſo much of a man, as of a beaſt? Or is it perhaps a roaring in ſpirit, which the heart may ſend forth, though the bodie bee feeble: or rather then moſt, when it is moſt feeble: not unlike the blaze of a Candle, then greateſt, when going out. Howſoever it be, this is certaine; the heart is that unhappy plot of ground which receiving into it the accurſed ſeed of ſinne, brings forth in the bodie and ſoule of man, theſe miſerable fruits: and how then can I be free from theſe weedes of the fruits, that have received into me ſo great a meaſure of the ſeed? O vile ſinne, that I could as well avoid thee, as I can ſee thee; or could as eaſily reſiſt thee, as I deadly hate thee; I ſhould not then complaine of either feebleneſſe of bodie, or dejectedneſſe of mind, or roaring of voice: but I ſhould perfectly injoy that happie quietneſſe in all my parts, which thou, O God, didſt graciouſly beſtow as a bleſſed dowrie on our firſt Parents, at their creation. And now, Verſe 9 O my ſoule, let mee aske thee a queſtion: Why art thou caſt downe, and why art thou diſquieted within mee? Hope thou in God; for I will yet praiſe him, who is the health of my countenance, and my God. But what neede was thereof roaring? for what matter is it whether I ſpeake to God in a ſoft voice, or in a lowd? ſeeing thou knoweſt, O God, the very thoughts of my heart, and my groaning is not hid from thee. Though I ſpeake not, but onelyonly thinke to ſpeake, yet thou knoweſt it: though I think not, but onelyonly groane to think, yet thou knoweſt it; and knowing theſe things, thou knoweſt O God, that my griefe is more for thy diſpleaſure, then for my wounds: leſſe for the paine I feele of thine arrowes ſticking in mee, then for the unkindneſſe I take at thy ſhooting them at mee. As the love with which thou giveſt, is more deare to mee then thy gifts; ſo the anger with which thou ſtrikeſt, is more grievous to mee then thy rod: and alas, O Lord, how can I then chuſe but roare through the unquietnes of my heart, when I want both thy gifts, and thy love too, and yet feele thy rod, and thine anger too? Verſe 9 All my deſire, O Lord, is ever before thee, and my groaning is not hid from thee: but what availes it mee, that my deſire bee all before thee, if it be not all for thee? what avails it mee, that my groaning be not hid from thee, if it be not made to thee? If I deſire any thing beſides thee, that deſire is from weakneſſe, and then thou regardeſt it not; if I groane to any but thee, that groaning is from vainneſſe, and then thou ſeeſt it not: but now that my deſire is onelyonly for thee, and my groaning onelyonly to thee; now I know, thou both ſeeſt and regardeſt them; and I doubt not, O God, but mee for them.
But, alas, O Lord, Verſe 10 this is not yet the whole chapter of my miſery; for beſides this, My heart panteth, my ſtrength faileth mee; and as for the light of mine eyes, that alſo is gone from me. And what is my heart, but the foundation; what my ſtrength, but the pillars? what mine eies, but the windows of my building? If theſe then bee ruined, how can my whole building chuſe but bee demoliſhed? My heart is not wont to pant, but in ſome great agonie; nor my ſtrength to ſayle, but in ſome great conflict; nor my ſight to goe from mee, but in ſome great diſaſter: how great then, alas, muſt my agonie bee, how hard my conflict, how grievous my diſaſter; when my heart, my ſtrength, my ſight, all ſayle mee at once? Though my heart panted, yet if my ſtrength continued, I ſhould have a ſupport: or though my ſtrength fayled, yet if my ſight continued, I ſhould have a guide: but when they all faile, and faile at once; alas, O Lord, how can I chuſe but fall, that have neither ſtrength to ſupport mee, nor eyes to guide mee: Thou, O God, muſt ſay to my heart, bee of good cheere: Thou muſt ſay to my ſtrength, I will bee thy fortreſſe: Thou muſt ſay to mine eies, I will be thy light: and then, and not till then, ſhall I ever have caſe, or confidence, or conſolation.
It is ſome comfort to men in miſery, when they have their friends about them; if not to relieve them, yet at leaſt to pitty them: for even pitty, is a comfort to men in miſery: but ſo miſerable am I, that I am left alone, as one utterly forſaken. For even my lovers and friends ſtand aloofe from mee, and my kinſmen ſtand a farre off. They are all pieces that recoyle, and flie backe at the firſt voice of the powder. Yet it is not ſo much mee they ſtand aloofe from, as my ſore; for if it were not for my ſore, I ſhould have enough of their company, eaſily enough: but they cannot abide ſores, their eies are too tender to endure to ſee them, and yet hard enough, not to relieve them. Or is it they ſtand aloofe, that is ſo neere, as to ſhew, they are willing enough to ſee them; but yet ſo farre off, as to ſhew, they have no meaning to come and helpe them. But call you theſe lovers and friends? Men that flutter about us like flies, in the Summer of proſperity, but vaniſh and are gone in the winter of adverſity? Are friends but painted flowers, onelyonly for ſhew, and nothing at all for uſe? Or if true flowers, yet onelyonly to make noſegayes of, and never to make medicine of? Is there uſe of Phyſitians but when there are ſores; and when ſores come, will not they bee gotten to come? Is there uſe of friends, but in time of need; and when need comes, will they then bee gone? But alas, O Lord, was it not ſo with Chriſt himſelfe? company enough, friends enow, when there was no need; but as ſoone as Iudas comes with a band of men, ſcarſe a man found that will bee gotten to tarry: and if they uſed the Maſter ſo, can I that am a ſervant, looke to bee better uſed?
But ſay, you call them friends, yet how can you call them lovers? for it is the nature of love, to bee readieſt at hand, when there bee troubles at hand. Doth not the Elme, alover of the Vine, ſupport the Vine, when it elſe would ſinke downe and fall to the ground? doth not the Vine ſtick cloſe to the Elme, and if the Elm chance to fall, chuſeth rather to fall with it, then to forſake it? And ſhall nature doe this in trees, and ſhall not reaſon, ſhall not vertue, do it much more in men? or ſhall trees bee reckoned the reaſonable Creatures, and men bee caſhiered out of the number? But this is the world; they are called lovers and friends, of their faces, no otherwiſe then Baboones may bee called men: for when a day of triall comes, they are often found as farre from friendſhip and true love, as Baboones from reaſon, and true underſtanding. And ſuch were my lovers and friends (alwaies excepting Ionathan:) but I looked for better at my kinſmens hands: for there is in them a propinquity of nature, and nature will hardly be kept from working: yet ſuch is my unfortunatneſſe, that in my behalfe, even nature her ſelfe growes idle, and I finde as little comfort from my kinſmen, as from my other lovers and friends: and to ſay truely, rather leſſe: for where my lovens and friends ſtand but aloofe, Verſe 11 my kinſmen ſtand afarre off: neither of them neere indeed, but yet my kinſmen the fartheſt off: My lovers and friends ſtand but aloofe from my ſore, as taking it perhaps for a Noli me tangere; but my kinſmen ſtand afarre off, as taking it for no leſſe then the very plague. My lovers and friends ſtand aloofe from my ſore, as expecting perhaps a time of recovery when they may come on againe; but my kinſmen ſtand afarre off, as never intending to hearken more after mee. My lovers and friends ſtand aloofe from my ſore, as fearing more my ſore then me, but my kinſmen ſtand a farre off, as fearing mee no leſſe then my ſore: and where my lovers and friends by ſtanding aloofe, doe but violate the law of a contracted friendſhip: My kinſmen by ſtanding afarre off, violate even the law of naturall affection: And is not this a grievous thing, that the law of reaſon, the law of friendſhip, the law of nature ſhall all bee broken, rather then I ſhall be relieved, or finde aſſiſtance? And now, O my ſoule, ſeeing thy lovers and friends, and kinſmen prove all unloyall, unfaithfull, and unnaturall, in whom alas canſt thou hope for helpe? In whom, O Lord, but onelyonly in thee? for thou art a lover incomparably more loyall, then either the Vine to the Elme, or the Elme to the Vine: Thou are a friend infinitely more faithfull, then either Jonathan to David, or David to Ionathan; Thou art a kinſman, but rather a father unſpeakably more tender of thy children, then either Boaz of Ruth; or Abraham of his one and onelyonly ſonne Iſaac.
But though to bee thus forſaken, rejected, and even abhorred, by lovers, and friends, and kinſmen, bee miſery enough, and more then enough for one man to beare; yet this is not all the miſery I beare, Verſe 12 but they alſo that ſeek after my life lay ſnares for me: and they that ſeeke my hurt, ſpeake miſchievous things, and imagine deceit all the day long. Is it not enough that my friends and kinſmen will doe mee no good; but there are others that will doe mee hurt: and it is not enough, that they wiſh my hurt, but they ſeeke to do it; they hunt after mee, as after a prey: and it is no ſmall hurt they ſeeke to doe mee; but they lay ſnares for my life: nothing but my life will ſerve them; and they doe it not ſo much by open violence, which might perhaps bee withſtood; but they doe it by fraud and deceit, which is not eaſie to bee avoided: for firſt, they ſpeake miſchievous things, they raiſe ſcandalls, and worke the world to an ill opinion of mee; and then they lye deviſing of waies how to entrap mee; and they ſpend not an houre or two about it, but they imagine deceit all the day long. And alas, O Lord, is this a world to have ſafety in ſcandalls? where if ſome bee ready to deviſe them, others are as ready to believe them? If there bee a Iezabel to plot a falſe accuſation, are there not elders to put it in execution? and do I not in this ſtill runne in the ſame line with my Lord Chriſt Ieſus? For did not the ſcribes and Phariſees, firſt deviſe miſchievous things againſt him; and then the High-prieſts and Rulers believe what they deviſed, and execute what they believed? And what, O Lord, do I all this while? doe I ſtand upon my guard, and have an eye to their practiſes? doe I ſeeke to repell their violence by force, or to fruſtrate their fraud with circumſpection? Do I cleere their ſcandalls with apologies, or do I anſwer their clamours with vociferations? God knowes, none of all theſe: I neither uſe armes offenſive, nor defenſive; all my doing is ſuffering, and all the apology I make for my ſelfe, is ſilence; Verſe 13 For as a deafe man, I heard not, and as a dumbe man, I opened not my mouth: For why ſhould I hear, when I meant not to ſpeak? and why ſhould I ſpeake, when I knew before hand I ſhould not bee heard? I knew by conteſting, I ſhould but provoke them, and make them more guilty, that were guilty too much before. I therefore thought it better my ſelfe to bee ſilent, then to ſet them a roaring, and make them grow outragious. No doubt, a great wiſedome in David, to know that, to be deaf and dumb was in this caſe his beſt courſe, but yet a farre greater vertue, that knowing it, hee was able to do it. O how happy ſhould we bee, if wee could alwaies doe that, which wee know is beſt to bee done: and if our wills were as readie to act, as our reaſon is able to enact, wee ſhould then decline many rocks wee now runne upon; wee ſhould then avoid many errours we now runne into. To bee deafe, and dumb, are indeed great inabilities and defects, when they bee naturall; but when they be voluntary, and I may ſay artificiall, they are then great abilities, or rather perfections. They are two ſtemmes, upon which do grow the excellent vertues of patience and charity; which though David ſhewed in himſelfe in a great meaſure, at the rayling of Shimei: yet he could never ſo properly ſpeake them of himſelfe, as in the perſon of Chriſt: for of him indeed the ſacred ſtory relates, that being rayled upon, and reviled, buffeted and beaten by the baſe multitude, yet as a ſheepe led to the ſlaughter, hee opened not his mouth, but was deafe and dumbe even to death.
O grievous alteration! tranſcendent indignity! Hee that reſtored Creeples to health, and raiſed the dead to life; now to bee deprived himſelfe of the chiefe faculties of life, both active and paſſive? He that made the deafe to heare, and the dumbe to ſpeake: now himſelf neither to ſpeake, nor heare? A grievous caſe no doubt to bee ſo: and yet no doubt, a juſt cauſe it ſhould bee ſo: for if he had heard, he ſhould have heard but blaſphemies: and if he had ſpoken, he muſt have ſpoken but reproofs: and ſeeing blaſphemies were too prophane for his ſacred ears to hear, and reproofs too harſh for his milde tongue to utter: what marvell, if he that made the care, did himſelfe not hear, what marvell, if hee that was the Word it ſelf, did not ſpeake a word?
And as my deafeneſſe and dumbeneſſe, Verſe 15 have not proceeded from imbecillity, but from patience; ſo neither have they proceeded from feare, but from reverence: for why ſhould I ſpeake, when my hope is in thee, O God, that thou wilt ſpeak: why ſhould I hear, when thou wilt heare for mee? For alas, O Lord, when I hear, they ſpeak what they liſt, as either thinking I cannot controll them or not caring whether I can or no: but whē thou heareſt, they are glad to take heed what they ſay; for thou haſt ſcales to weigh their words, and if find them light, power to cenſure them. Why then ſhould I offer to hear or ſpeak, when I know ere long I ſhall have a hearing before thee, where thou ſhalt bee their judge, and wilt be my advocate. And have I not reaſon, till then, to conſecrate my eares and tongue to thee? It is true, injurious language is a provocation able to make a dumbe man to ſpeake, and I may ſay, able to looſen the tongue of Croeſus his dumbe ſonne: but he that ſo provoked, ſhould fall a ſpeaking, were very like to fall in ſpeaking: for it is a ſlippery argument to be ſpoken in: and if in ſpeaking I ſhould ſlip never ſo little, Oh what a joy it would bee to my enemies, they would never deſire better ſport, they would magnifie themſelves againſt mee: I ſhould be their blind Sampſon to make them merry, I ſhould ſerve them for a ſtocke of deriſion. Oh therefore, ſuffer mee not, O God, to ſuffer theſe indignities; but do thou heare for me, do thou ſpeak for mee: for I alas, am readie to halt, Verſe 17 and my ſorrow is continually before mee, that if my ſlipping and falling, bee a cauſe to make mine enemies rejoyce, they may bee ſure of joy enough: for how can I chuſe but often fall, that am of my ſelfe ſo readie to halt? and ſpecially when my ſorrow is alwaies before mee; that makes me I cannot ſee my way before me; for what doth more blind the eyes, and take away the ſight, then ſorrow? Was it not ſorrow that hindred Mary Magdalen from diſcerning Chriſt, when ſhee ſaw him at the Sepulchre? And beſides, my halting is the worſt kinde of halting that is; for I come not to it, as Iacob came to his, by wraſtling with an Angell, which brought a bleſſing with it: but I come to it as Mephiboſheth did, by the imbecillity or inequalitie of my parts: For having two feete to goe upon, my reaſon, and my will; how can I chuſe but halt, when my will is ſo much longer then my reaſon? and then, if to the aptneſſe of my falling, by reaſon of my halting, there bee added the inadvertency of the way, by reaſon of my ſorrow: how can I chuſe but even trip at every ſtep I take? that if mine enemies rejoyce at my fallings, they are very like to have their fill of rejoycing; for if a juſt man fall ſeven times a day, how often, alas; am I like to fall, that halt, I may rightly ſay, down right in ſinne? but let mine enemies rejoyce to ſee mee fall as much as they pleaſe; this ſhall not hinder mee from ſeeking to riſe: and ſeeing there is no riſing from ſin, but by cōfeſſing it; Verſe 18 I will therefore declare mine iniquitie, I will bee ſorry for my ſinne: I will declare mine iniquity, that my enemies may ſee, I can ſpeak to God, though I was dumbe to them; and I will bee ſorry for my ſinne, to make them ſee how little I envie their rejoycing, that can take pleaſure in my own ſorrowing: for to declare mine iniquities without ſorrowing for my ſin, might rather bee thought an oſtentation then a penitence, and rather ſhew mee proud of my ſinne, then aſhamed of it. I will therefore bee ſorry for my ſinne, that my ſorrow may teſtifie for me, that my declaration now is out of contrition; as my declaration ſhall teſtifie, that my dumbneſſe before, was out of compaſſion. But though I ſcorn mine enemies deriding, yet I am not inſenſible of mine owne diſgrace: and therefore hope that my ſpeaking now, ſhall ſupply my dumbneſſe before; and make thee, O God, to take my cauſe into thine owne hearing; and either convert mine enemies, or elſe confound them. This indeed is my hope, though I ſee as yet but ſmall fruit of my hope; For mine enemies are lively and ſtrong, Verſe 19 and they that hate mee without a cauſe are multiplied. I looked for abatement of their rejoycing, and they continue lively ſtill: for abatement of their power, and they continue as ſtrong as ever: for abatement of their number, and they are rather multiplied, and increaſe. But though it bee an eaſie matter for them to be lively, being ſo ſtrong as they are; and to bee ſtrong; being ſo many as they are: yet how eaſie is it for thee, O God, by thy Spirit of life, to ſtrike a dump into their livelineſſe; by thy Almightineſſe, to ſuppreſſe their ſtrength; by thy Infiniteneſſe, to confound their number: and why then ſhould I bee afraid what mine enemies can doe unto mee? why ſhould I bee frighted with an arm of fleſh? But that which is moſt ſtrange of all, Verſe 20 they hate mee without a cauſe: as if one ſhould ſay; Their hatred to mee is miraculous: an effect, without a cauſe: for what cauſe of hatred, where ſuch motives of love? I ſeeke to doe them good, I follow the thing that is good, and yet they hate mee. And yet this is no wonder, for is it not ſayd, Qui male agit, odit lucem? They that do evill hate the light? and if hate the light, how can they chuſe but hate the children of light? That it appeares to bee cauſe enough to the wicked, to hate the godly, if they diſcerne in them but any ſparkes of godlineſſe: and then if this bee the caſe, that I muſt either be wicked my ſelfe, or elſe bee hated of the wicked: I ſhall never ſtand long in making my choice, ſeeing I ſhall never certainly buy their love ſo deere. But ſince they are generations of vipers, and render mee evill for good: at leaſt, O Lord, doe not thou forſake mee; be not thou farre from mee: for as long as thou art on my ſide, and ſtayeſt by mee, what though the waters roare, and the mountaines ſhake with the ſwelling therof? What though the bulls of Baſan compaſſeme, and the ſtrong bulls be ſet me round: ſeeing thou art able to deliver mee from their fury, and from the hands of all that hate me.
But O my ſoule, thou maiſt call long enough to God, not to bee farre from thee, and all in vaine, if thou bee farre from him. Take heed therefore, it bee not found true in thee, which hee ſometimes ſayd: This people draweth neere mee with their lips, but their hearts are far from mee: for if thou bee neere him onelyonly with thy lips, ſuch neereneſſe will do thee ſmall good: it is not the neighbourhood of lips that hee cares for: but if thou wilt have him not to be farre from thee, Verſe 22 thou muſt bee carefull that thy heart be not farre from him. And yet neither is this enough, O God, that thou bee not farre from me, if thou ſtand but onelyonly looking on, and makeſt not haſte to helpe me: Thy ſlowneſſe may bee as prejudiciall to mee, as thy being farre off: for alas, mine enemies are ready to devoure mee, and they that ſeeke after my ſoule, make haſte. Doe thou therefore, O God, make haſte alſo, & be not ſlower then mine enemies: neither let thy love, be out-run by their hatred. But O my ſoul, why ſhouldſt thou require God to make ſuch haſte, as though thou wouldſt as it were ſurprize him on a ſuddaine? Alas, is God like man, that hee ſhould ſtand in need of time to conſider? Are there Secundae cogitationes with him, as there are with men? Is there any thing that can be ſuddaine, or unlookt for to him? Although therefore hee bee ſlow to anger, yet hee is never ſlow to mercy; but for ſhewing of mercy, hee hath the wings of a Dove, and rides upon the winde. And ſeeing, O God, thou art able and canſt doe it; O ſhew thy ſelfe willing alſo, and be forward to doe it: Make haſte to help me, O Lord my ſalvation: Make haſte to helpe me, that thou maiſt be Lord of my ſalvation; leſt I fall into mine enemies hands, that would be lords of my deſtruction: or rather, make haſte to helpe me, O Lord, Thou that art my ſalvation: for untill thou come, I am, alas, a ſervant of ſin, and a bondſlave to Sathan, that would bee my deſtruction.
FINIS.
End of the text · Sir Richard Baker, Meditations and Disquisitions Upon Seven Psalms of David (1640)