Ezekiel 3:22 And the hand of the LORD was there on me; and he said to me, Arise, go forth into the plain, and I will there talk with you. I. THE DESERT, OR SOLITUDE, IS A NECESSARY MEANS OF GRACE. The true Israel of God now, as ever, confess that they are "strangers and pilgrims on the earth." And all who say not this "make it manifest that they are 'not' seeking after a country of their own" — a better country, that is a heavenly. Life must be a wilderness, a desert, or Canaan when we reach it won't be heaven. But turn now upon this doctrine the light of individual experiences recorded in God's Word for our instruction and encouragement. When was it that Jacob drew nearest to God and realised that God had drawn nearest to him? First of all when, a fugitive by reason of sin, he pillowed his head upon a stone in the awesome loneliness of Luz. The years roll by, and once again is Jacob "left alone." The God of Bethel meets him by the Jabbok's tortuous stream, to change the man this time with the place, to effect a far more radical transformation scene, to transfigure character as well as circumstance. "Jabbok" becomes "Peniel," it is true; but not before "Jacob" has become "Israel" — i.e., "he who striveth successfully with God." It was in the wilderness that Moses learnt the sacredness of solitude, and received from Jehovah his stupendous commission. The case of Ezekiel, recorded in this chapter, was, in all essential features, a parallel experience. We come to the New Testament and turn over its pages and find this same doctrine — the doctrine of the desert — illustrated and enforced in many ways. Of the forerunner of Jesus we are told — and the last-mentioned fact, no doubt, had its influence on his spirituality — "And the child grew, and waxed strong in spirit, and was in the deserts till the day of his showing unto Israel." From the earliest days of childhood the key of nature's solitudes was hanging at his girdle. But, passing from the servant to the Master, the doctrine of the desert finds its best illustration, highest possible sanction, and strongest emphasis in the precept and example of Christ Jesus. When He wished to draw very near to God, and wanted that God should draw very near to Him, it was His invariable custom to retire to some solitary place. II. IF THE DESERT IS ESSENTIAL TO OUR SPIRITUAL WELL-BEING, IT IS BETTER THAT WE SHOULD SEEK IT THAN IT US. What the enterprising builder has done with open spaces, those solitudes in which God used to speak to our fathers, that money-making engine that was formerly called "man" has done with vacant days, hours, moments, seconds — those solitudes of time in which the godly of the past were wont to hold sweet converse with their God. The number of place-spaces and time-spaces has rapidly decreased, and is still rapidly decreasing. The result is a lamentable falling off all round, an alarming lowering of spiritual temperature from which none is exempt, and of which even the most godly are painfully conscious. These would fain live the life of the saints of long ago, but they find themselves caught in the current of the age, and are powerless to do more than hold their own in this universal craze of competition. But though the opportunities of solitude are fewer, the necessity for solitude remains undiminished. Our religious life must perish if we do not obtain it. Now the question that confronts us here is this, "How does the child of God obtain this needful solitude?" The answer is twofold, and runs thus: "If wise, he will go to it; if foolish, God will send it to him." 1. The wise child of God has more roads to the desert where he meets with Him than one. The first is that of private devotion — compliance with the mandate of the Master, "enter into thine inner chamber, and having shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret." The second is the weighing of his thoughts, words, and actions in the sacred scale of God's Word. A third is the transfusion of "other worldliness" into the concerns of his so-called worldly life. 2. The foolish child of God will not go to the desert, therefore, the Father sends the desert to him. It comes upon the wings of sickness, sorrow, and bereavement, is borne along of trouble and disaster. Its blessing is wrapt up in all the trappings of a curse — so wrapped up that he cannot at first recognise it through his tears. Must God lay us low that He may parley with us? Must He fill our heart with tears ere we will look into His face? III. JESUS HAS ALTERED THE "GO" OF THE COMMAND INTO A "COME" OF INVITATION. Yes, Jesus has peopled all the solitudes of life with His presence, and cries to us from each, "Come unto Me." He meets us in the Desert of Temptation, and nerves us for the fight with His example. He meets us in the Desert of Uncomprehended Worth, and says to us, "A servant is not greater than his lord." He meets us in the Desert of Solitary Suffering, and, showing us His cross, makes us forget our own. (P. Morrison.) Parallel Verses KJV: And the hand of the LORD was there upon me; and he said unto me, Arise, go forth into the plain, and I will there talk with thee. |
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