"Thou preparest a table before me
In the presence of mine enemies."
At first it seems difficult to catch the exact sequence of the psalmist's thought, as he turns from the sheep-cotes
to the festal board. And yet the demands of the spiritual life so far transcend all earthly analogies as to demand
that more than one metaphor should be employed, one supplying what the other lacks, so that the true conception
of our relationship to God may be complete.
Now it is of course very helpful to think of oneself as a sheep, and of Christ as a Shepherd; but there can be
no fellowship between the dumb animals and their watchful keeper. The little child that comes from the shepherd's
shealing to meet its father has more intimate fellowship with him, though it can hardly articulate its words, than
the dumb creatures of his care.
The psalmist, therefore, seems to say, "I am more than Jehovah's sheep; I am Jehovah's guest." It is
a mark of great intimacy to sit with a man at his table; in the East it is essentially so. It is not only a means
of satisfying hunger, but of intimate and affectionate love. Hence the aggravation of the psalmist's sorrow, as
he said, "He that breaketh bread with me is he that lifteth up his heel against me." Nor was it possible
for our Lord to give any more touching proof of His love for His wayward follower than to dip a sop, and pass it
to his hands. Here, then, arises before us a rich theme for meditation while we compare life to a seat at God's
banquet-table, eating the things which He has prepared.
We sit at the table of God's daily providence. Our Heavenly Father has a great family. He is weighted with the
concerns of a universe. All sentient things depend upon His sustaining power. Not a seraph cleaves the air but
what derives his power of obedience h',)m his sovereign Lord; and not a mote of life floats in the sunbeam, flashing
in the light, but it is dependent upon the light and life of the central Sun, before whom angels veil their faces.
And yet, amid all the infinite variety of nature which God is supplying constantly, He is surely most attentive
to the needs of those who, in an especial sense, call Him ,,Our Father." We are His pensioners ;' nay, better,
we are His children! All the stores of His divine provision must fail before He can suffer us to want. He may sometimes
keep us waiting until His hour has struck; but just as He will never be one moment too soon, so He will not be
a moment too late. He will cause a widow woman to sustain us with the barrel of meal, which, however often scraped,
will yield a fresh supply. He will rain bread from heaven, so that man may eat angels' food. He will multiply the
slender store of the boy's wallet, so that present need may be met, and stores accumulated for the future.
On a recent Sunday evening, a sick member of a congregation, debarred from attending her customary place of worship,
entrusted to the hand of the minister a two-shilling piece, which he was to hand to a poor widow known to them
both. It so happened that he encountered her slowly making her way to the church, and at once handed to her the
coin. But he was hardly prepared for the immediate response: "I did not think that He would have sent it so
soon." On further inquiry he discovered that she had placed her last coin that day in the collection, and
was entirely dependent upon such answer as her Heavenly Father might send to her trustful prayer that He would
provide for her next meal. Evidently she had been accustomed to close dealings with God, and had learned that His
deliverance is timed to arrive "when the morning breaks," the morning of direst need; the hour when pride
and self-sufficiency have expired, but when faith and hope stand expectant at the portals of the soul, looking
for the deliverance which cannot be long delayed.
I never shall forget the story of an old man discovered sitting in one of the seats of York Minster, within a short
period of closing time, and who had been sitting there since the early morning, waiting. He had come to the city
to find his daughter; but, having missed her, had found himself without friends or food, and with his last coin
spent. Not knowing whither to turn, he had found his way into the splendid minster, and had sat there the livelong
day; because, as he said, he thought the likeliest place to find his Father's table was in his Father's house.
Need I add that his need was fully satisfied?
God's children seem to think that they are no better off than men of the world. And, according to their faith,
so it is done unto them. If we do not exercise faith and claim God's provisions, ought we to be surprised when
we do not receive them? If, on the other hand, we would dare to put our finger upon His promises, which bind Him
to meet His children's need, though the young lions lack, and suffer hunger, we should find that our God would
be equal to all our emergencies, and that not one good thing would fail of all His promises. When men indicate
certain cases in which God's children have pined to death, it is always wise to inquire whether they were living
in believing fellowship with Him, and whether they had claimed the fulfilment of His specific pledges. It is very
unbecoming, to say the least, that God's children should be as fretful about their daily bread, supposing they
are using all lawful methods to obtain it, as the children of men. Was it not with a tone of reproach that our
Lord said, "After all these things do the Gentiles seek?" What could be more assuring than His own words,
backed by the experience of His own life," Your Heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things?"
What would you say if, when school-time came to-morrow morning, your little boy, before he started with unwilling
feet to school, entered your larder and busied himself in examining its contents, with especial reference 'to your
provision for dinner? Would he not legitimately incur your displeasure? Would you not say, "Be off to school,
and leave me to care while you are gone?" Would you not rebuke him for his want of simple trust? Oh, that
we might learn lessons from our babes, and believe that life is one long residence in one of the mansions of our
Father's home; and that the time can never come when the table is quite bare, and when there is nothing for our
need! He may suffer you to hunger, be. cause there are some devils which will only go forth by prayer and fasting;
but, sooner or later, His angel will touch you, saying, "Arise and eat;" and on the desert floor you
will find, spread by angel hands, a banquet, though it be nothing more than a cruse of water at your head, and
cakes baked on the hot stones of the wilderness, for your repast.
God also prepares the table of spiritual refreshment. Can we ever forget that episode, among the most charming
incidents in the forty days, in which, as the weary fishers emerged with empty boats from a long, toilsome night,
they found a banquet spread for them, by the tender thoughtfulness of their Lord, upon the strand of the lake?
As soon as they touched land they saw a fire of coals, and fish laid thereon, and bread. And is not this an emblem
of our Lord's perpetual treatment of His children? Tired, disappointed with fruitless toils, agitated by conflicting
hopes and fears, we often pull to the shore trodden by His blessed feet; nor do we ever approach Him without finding
that He has anticipated our spiritual requirements, and that "His flesh is, meat indeed, and His blood drink
indeed."
Writing to the Corinthian Christians, the Apostle Paul said that, inasmuch as Christ had been slain as our Passover
Lamb, we must imitate the children of Israel, who, with closed doors and girded loins and sandalled feet, stood
around the table eating of the flesh of the lamb, whose blood on the exterior of their houses demanded their deliverance.
"Christ our Passover is sacrificed for us: therefore let us keep the feast." The life of the Church between
the first and second advents is symbolised by the feast on that memorable night. With joy in our voices and triumph
in our mien, we stand around the table where Christ's flesh is the nourishment of all true hearts, straining our
ear for the first clarion notes which will tell that the time of our exodus has come. Christian people are very
much too thoughtless of the necessity of feeding off God's table for the nourishment of spiritual life. There is
plenty of work being done; much attendance at conferences and special missions; diligent reading of religious books;'
but there is a great and fatal lack of the holy meditation upon the person, the words, and the work of the Lord
Jesus Christ.
Will each reader of these lines stay here for a moment, and ask if he knows anything of the interior life of meditation
which is ever deriving fresh sustenance from a consideration of the Lord?
It was only the other day that I was rebuked by the habit of a well-known Roman Catholic bishop of whom it is said:
"The first point of his rule was early rising, which he faithfully practised to the last day of his life,
and often recommended to others. He was the first on foot at his palace, and began his prayers and meditation between
four and five o'clock in the morning, and never spent less at them than an hour. He often did this with his memoranda
in his hand, so as to recall past graces, and thus rekindle the flame. Nor did it seem as if any hour passed in
his crowded and stirring life without by some direct act refreshing his soul by communion with God."
And, in addition to this daily practice, he set apart one or two weeks in every year that he might quietly meditate
more patiently upon the great mysteries of redemption. This is what he said: "One must, by constant meditation
on the great mysteries of incarnation and the redemption, plunge oneself more and more in the love of God, which
is the greatest grace of one's life. I will occupy myself more and more with our Lord, with His earthly and divine
life, with His hidden, suffering, and glorious life. May my .own be hidden in God in Jesus Christ!"
We may especially apply these words also to the table of the Lord's Supper. This is emphatically a table which
God has prepared; which not only perpetuates the memory of the night in which our Lord was betrayed, but which
enables us to raise our wandering thoughts, and to fix them on Him where He is now seated. There is no mystic change
made in the bread or in the wine. The bread remains bread, and the wine, to the end of the simple feast; and yet,
at the moment of partaking of these elements, the pious heart does realise that, by its faith and holy thought,
a distinct blessing is communicated to its invigoration and comfort. It is well, of course, at that solemn moment,
to recall the agony and bloody sweat, the cross and passion, the precious death and burial; but it is equally incumbent
to look through the azure depths and to follow the Master through their parted folds, so as to feed upon His resurrection
life, and to participate in the perpetual Eastertide of His existence.
It is very helpful, where possible, to communicate at least once a week, that we may clearly learn to lift all
life to the level of the Lord's table, to be at every meal as at a sacrament, and to use all the emblems of nature
as means of holy fellowship with Him. How can we enough thank God that in this sense also He has prepared a table
before us?
There is much comfort in the three words ,, prepared for me," because it would seem to indicate the anticipatory
care of God. He does not allow us to be taken by surprise. He does not let his children ask for anything the need
of which He has not foreseen. Just as He has prepared beforehand the good works in which we are to walk, so has
He prepared beforehand the food by which His workers shall be nourished. All our life's path is lined by cairns
beneath which our Forerunner has placed the victuals which we shall require. "Thou preventest me with the
blessings of Thy goodness." The table is spread before the hunger comes. The spring is bubbling in the shade
before mother and child sink fainting on the sand. The angel of the Lord's host has not only taken possession of
the hostile country, but has provided of the old corn of the land. God provisions His castles before they are besieged.
"Thou preparest a table before me."
That is a very significant addition, in the presence of mine enemies. We surely are to understand by it that all
around us may stand our opponents, pledged to do us harm; to cut off our supplies; to starve us out. See that ring
of hostile faces, darting fierce glances and chafing to rush upon the beleaguered soul! But they cannot cut off
the supplies that come hourly from above. They cannot hinder the angel ministers who spread the table and heap
it up, and then form themselves into an inner ring of defence. They may gnash their teeth at the vanity and futility
of their rage; but when God elects to feed a soul, fed that soul shall be, though all hell attempt to say it nay!
Many a time in David's life he ate his food in quietness and confidence, while Saul's hostile bands swept down
the valleys and searched the caves to find him. As it was with David, so it has been often since.
Yes, soul, God bids thee feast: "Eat, O beloved; yea, eat and drink abundantly."
The King doth bring thee into His banqueting house, and His banner over thee is love. Thou shalt eat of the hidden
manna, and drink of the secret spring which bubbles up in the beleaguered city, enabling it to defy the encircling
lines of its foes. Nor is the time far distant when we shall sit with Christ in His kingdom; and as the far-travelled,
footsore brethren of Joseph ate with the prince who once 'lay in the pit, so shall we sit down at the prepared
table of the marriage supper, and Christ will gird Himself and come forth to serve us, and the festivities of an
eternity, which shall never know penury or want, shall obliterate the memory of the sorrows of time.