II. Let us consider, secondly, what was the source of David’s present comfort in life. He says, “Though my house is not as I could wish, and is the cause of much sorrow, God has made with me an everlasting covenant, ordered in all things, and sure.” And then he adds, “this is all my salvation, and all my desire.”
Now this word “covenant” is a deep and mysterious thing, when applied to anything that God does. We can understand what a covenant is between man and man. It is an agreement between two persons, by which they bind themselves to fulfil certain conditions and do certain things. But who can fully understand a covenant made by the Eternal God? It is something far above us and out of sight. It is a phrase by which He is graciously pleased to accommodate Himself to our poor, weak faculties, but at the best we can only grasp a little of it.
The covenant of God to which David refers as his comfort must mean that everlasting agreement or counsel between the Three Persons of the Blessed Trinity which has existed from all eternity for the benefit of all the living members of Christ.
It is a mysterious and ineffable arrangement whereby all things necessary for the salvation of our souls, our present peace, and our final glory, are fully and completely provided, and all this by the joint work of God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost. The redeeming work of God the Son by dying as our Substitute on the cross—the drawing work of God the Father by choosing and drawing us to the Son—and the sanctifying work of the Holy Ghost in awakening, quickening, and renewing our fallen nature—are all contained in this covenant, besides everything that the soul of the believer needs between grace and glory.
Of this covenant, the Second Person of the Trinity is the Mediator (Heb. xii. 24). Through Him all the blessings and privileges of the covenant are conveyed to every one of His believing members. And when the Bible speaks of God making a covenant with man, as in the words of David, it means with man in Christ as a member and part of the Son. They are His mystical body, and He is their Head, and through the Head all the blessings of the eternal covenant are conveyed to the body. Christ, in one word, is the Surety of the covenant, and through Him believers receive its benefits. This is the great covenant, which David had in view.
True Christians would do well to think about this covenant, remember it, and roll the burden of their souls upon it far more than they do. There is unspeakable consolation in the thought that the salvation of our souls has been provided for from all eternity, and is not a mere affair of yesterday. Our names have long been in the Lamb’s book of life. Our pardon and peace of conscience through Christ’s blood, our strength for duty, our comfort in trial, our power to fight Christ’s battles, were all arranged for us from endless ages, and long before we were born. Here upon earth we pray, and read, and fight, and struggle and groan, and weep, and are often sore let and hindered in our journey. But we ought to remember that an Almighty eye has long been upon us, and that we have been the subjects of Divine provision though we knew it not.
Above all, Christians should never forget that the everlasting covenant is “ordered in all things and sure.” The least things in our daily life are working together for good, though we may not see it at the time. The very hairs of our head are all numbered, and not a sparrow falls to the ground without our Father. There is no luck or chance in anything that happens to us. The least events in our life are parts of an everlasting scheme or plan in which God has foreseen and arranged everything for the good of our souls.
Let us all try to cultivate the habit of remembering the everlasting covenant. It is a doctrine full of strong consolation, if it is properly used. It was not meant to destroy our responsibility. It is widely different from Mahommedan fatalism. It is specially intended to be a refreshing cordial for practical use in a world full of sorrow and trial. We ought to remember, amid the many sorrows and disappointments of life, that “what we know not now, we shall know hereafter.” There is a meaning, and a “needs be” in every bitter cup that we have to drink, and a wise cause for every loss and bereavement under which we mourn.
After all, how little we know? We are like children who look at a half-finished building, and have not the least idea what it will look like when it is completed. They see masses of stone, and brick, and rubbish, and timber, and mortar, and scaffolding, and dirt, and all in apparent confusion. But the architect who designed the building sees order in all, and quietly looks forward with joy to the day when the whole building will be finished, and the scaffolding removed and taken away. It is even so with us. We cannot grasp the meaning of many a providence in our lives, and are tempted to think that all around us is confusion. But we should try to remember that the great Architect in heaven is always doing wisely and well, and that we are always being “led by the right way to a city of habitation” (Ps. cvii. 7). The resurrection morning will explain all. It is a quaint but wise saying of an old divine, that “true faith has bright eyes, and can see even in the dark.”
It is recorded of Barnard Gilpin, a Reformer who lived in the days of the Marian martyrdoms, and was called the Apostle of the North, that he was famous for never murmuring or complaining whatever happened to him. In the worst and blackest times he used to be always saying, “It is all in God’s everlasting covenant, and must be for good.” Towards the close of Queen Mary’s reign he was suddenly summoned to come up from Durham to London, to be tried for heresy, and in all probability, like Ridley and Latimer, to be burned. The good man quietly obeyed the summons, and said to his mourning friends, “It is all in the covenant, and must be for good.” On his journey from Durham to London his horse fell, and his leg was broken, and he was laid up at a roadside inn. Once more he was asked, “What do you think of this?” Again he replied, “It is all in the covenant, and must be for good.” And so it turned out. Weeks and weeks passed away before his leg was healed, and he was able to resume his journey. But during those weeks the unhappy Queen Mary died, the persecutions were stopped, and the worthy old Reformer returned to his northern home rejoicing. “Did I not tell you,” he said to his friends, “that all was working together for good?”
“This article originally appeared here at Bible Bulletin Board.”
