I want to know him. Oh, that I may know him in the
fellowship of his suffering, in the power of his resurrection,
being made conformable unto his death. That's just reasonable,
isn't it? Just reasonable. Just reasonable
that I should spend my life in the zealous, never fainting,
all-consuming pursuit of knowing Jesus Christ who loved me and
gave himself for me. But I often find myself consumed with other
things rather than with Him. The zeal which I sometimes have
burning in my heart for Him I often find languishing into near death. But I find that that's the case
with God's people generally. And that certainly is the case
in the picture before us in the Song of Solomon chapter 5, beginning
at verse 2. Here is a sad but common, common
experience for all believers. Our text sets before us a picture
of Christ's his beloved bride, his redeemed spouse, one whom
he has bought and brought to himself. But here she is in her
most lamentable condition. We've been reading this song
of Solomon and throughout the song of Solomon in most places,
the bride speaks to Christ. Up until now, we've been seeing
her speaking to the Lord Jesus, but now She is reduced to speaking
about him because he's hidden himself. He's withdrawn himself
because of her neglect and her indifference toward him. Hard
as it is to imagine, there is within each of us a terrible
tendency, a horrible inclination to become neglectful, indifferent,
and lukewarm to the Lord Jesus Christ, our Savior. this common
sinful tendency of our nature, we will be wise to mark, ever
beware of it, and pray for grace from God to avoid it. Prone to
wander, Lord, I feel it. Prone to leave the God I love,
here's my heart, O take and seal it, seal it for thy courts above. Let's look at this text line
by line and let me see if I can stir up our hearts to seek our
Savior one more time. Here's a very common saying.
The text opens with these words, I sleep. You read Matthew 25 and you read
about the ten virgins, the wise and the foolish. And the saddest
part of that story is that commonly you find the wise virgins sleeping
with the foolish. The wise virgins have the oil
of grace. They have the spirit of God.
They're born of God's spirit. But in this flesh, this flesh
that's so weak, they find themselves often, just like the foolish,
sleeping when they ought to be watchful and awake. The wise
virgins often have to confess, as does the virgin daughter of
Christ here, the child of God, the bride of our Redeemer, I
sleep far too often. This is the bad effect which
comes with great privileges upon our sinful hearts. There is not
one of us who does not horribly take for granted the greatest
privileges and blessings and opportunities we have. Not one
of us. There's no man living who has
a loving, faithful wife who does not take her for granted. There
is no woman living who has a devoted, loving husband who doesn't take
him for granted. There are no parents who have,
who have faithful children or children have faithful parents
who do not take them for granted. And there's no such thing as
a believer in this world, washed in the blood of Christ, robed
in his righteousness, sanctified by his spirit, saved by his grace,
kept by his power in infallible security, kept under God, who
does not take for granted that blessed grace, that precious
blood, that dear Redeemer. No such thing. We indulge ourselves in carnal
ease and security. Our hearts become cold, negligent,
indifferent. The Word of God becomes to us a book. Our religion often becomes just
a routine. Our devotion lifeless. Our service to our Redeemer becomes
a drudgery. Worship becomes just a formality. I sleep. Sometimes this is the condition
of just an individual. It is often mine. I spend my
life studying, writing, preaching, from this book. You'd think,
oh that, if there's any place on this earth where a fellow
could find constant inspiration for constant devotion and constant
excitement and constant zeal, it's there. But I spend most of my time having
to confess Lord, God, come stir my soul
one more time. I sleep. But here's a hopeful
sign. My heart awakened. And you'll notice that when this
statement is made, there's not even the hint of a doubt concerning
it. I sleep. I acknowledge my sin. I acknowledge my lethargy, I
acknowledge my indifference, I acknowledge my neglect, I acknowledge
the callousness, the base ingratitude of my heart, but my soul wake,
my heart wake. It is a hopeful sign that there
is grace in the heart when the heart struggles against this
sleep, this horrible slothful indifference. You see, ours is
not the sleep of death. but rather the sleep of neglect. It is not the sleep of death,
but the sleep of weariness. It is not the sleep of death,
but the sleep of indifference. The believer yet struggles in
his soul against that horrid indifference that he finds in
himself. So that we say with regard to
our Lord Jesus Christ, even as the apostle did concerning God's
law, with regard to our neglect toward him, that I hate that
I do, the will is present with me.
Oh, for a closer walk with God. Oh, to walk with Christ, incessantly,
in the sweet, blessed smile of his face, to walk with him, constantly
with my face beaming toward him. The will is present with me.
But how to perform that which is good, I cannot find. That's just fact. That's just
fact. And I refuse to pretend. I refuse to put on a show. I
refuse to act like it's not so. And I'm telling you what I experience
because I know good and well that's what you experience. I
know good and well that's what you experience. We're in this
thing together. We're in this thing called this
veil of tears, this body of flesh, this sinful nature, and we constantly
have this proneness toward indifference. But blessed be God, there is
a warfare in my soul against it. And I delight in Christ after
the end would be had. I want him, I acknowledge, I
sleep. But I'm confident of this. I'm
his, for he has wakened my soul. My heart's alive to God. Now
thirdly, look at this very loving, tender call. I sleep, but my
heart wake. And here's what keeps my heart
awake. It is the voice of my beloved. All is not dull, though
my heart sleeps so foolishly, yet Christ is still my beloved. She does not say it is the voice
of him who looks upon me as his beloved, though that's true.
But in this horrible state of indifference, she still has her
hope fixed, not in herself, but in him. And she says it's the
voice of my beloved. Here I am, asleep, but my heart
wakes. It wakes because it's the voice
of my beloved knocking at the door. Him whom I love. Self-righteous legalist who promotes
the idea that somehow assurance is to be found in our inward
devotion, in our godliness, in our warmth toward Christ have
a great difficulty here. Great difficulty there. How can she say this is my beloved
when she's so indifferent? Have you ever found yourself indifferent to a child whom you know you dearly love
for whatever reason? Indifferent to your husband whom
you know you dearly love. indifferent to your wife whom
you know you dearly love. This is exactly the truth here.
While there is this coldness and this indifference, this horrible
lethargy of soul, yet he is the one whom I most truly love. He's my beloved. My love for
him is fickle, so shameful, So unworthy of him, but love him,
yes I do. And what's more, I hear his voice
and I still know his voice. I hear his voice and I still
know his voice. Christ tenderly knocks to awaken
us to come and open to him. Hold your hand here and turn
to Revelation 3. Revelation chapter 3. This text can bear with a
little explanation in this day of religious
ignorance. You've seen pictures, these silly,
idolatrous pictures, supposed to be pictures of Jesus. Here's
this sort of effeminate looking thing that looks sort of like
a man, but long hair and, you know, got a complexion smooth
as a baby's bottom, no blemish at all, and doesn't look too
much like a man, but a little like a man. standing outside
a door, holding a lantern, knocking. And there's no lock on the outside,
no knob to open up. And it's supposed to be a picture
of Jesus knocking at the sinner's heart's door for entrance. Now
that's such foolishness. Here he is who is the light of
the world holding a lantern. The omnipotent God knocking for
entrance into your heart as though he could not come in. Now you
listen carefully to me. With regard to the sinner, I
recognize you must open to him, but I'm telling you, you will
never open to him until he, with the hand of omnipotent grace,
knocks the door down of your heart, both and more, and sets
himself on his throne in your heart. But here in Revelation
3 in verse 20, We have a picture and a word given not to the unbelieving,
not to the unregenerate, but rather to the believer, indeed
to the local church. Here in Revelation 320, the Lord
Jesus speaks to Grace Baptist Church, Danville, Kentucky. This
is what he says, Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If any man will hear my voice,
that's how he knocks, by his word. and open the door. Listen now, if anybody in here,
anybody in here, hears him speak now by his word, opens the door,
this is what he says, I will come in to him and suck with
him and eat with him. How does he speak? By his word,
by his spirit, by his providence, he speaks. And as he speaks,
he says, now you open to me. And if you open to me, I'll come
and sit with you. I'll sit there with you. And
if she opens to me, I'll sit there with her, sit with her.
But you must open to me. He not only knocks for entrance,
but our beloved Redeemer graciously calls us, wooing us to himself. He doesn't just say, now, now,
I'm knocking you open to me and I'll come in. He gives us reason
to come to it. Whose voice is it? It's the voice
of my beloved that knocketh. There is a persistency to this
thing. It's not just that he knocks and leaves, but he knocks
and knocks and knocks and knocks and knocks. It's the voice of
my beloved knocking. Who is he calling? He's calling
me. And this I call me, my sister. My love, my dove, my undefiled,
he's calling me. Now listen again. What does he
call for? Open to that. Open to that. I think it's entirely accurate
to use this illustration. A young man and his wife, just
married, getting accustomed to each other. love each other dearly,
perhaps still on their honeymoon, and they have a little spat.
And she goes in the other room and locks the door, and he realizes
that he's the one responsible for her and not her for him. He realizes the relationship
and the family is in his hands, not in hers. And though the spat's
her fault, He goes and leans against the door and he says,
honey, come on, open the door. Open the door. We got too much
to lose here. Open the door. That's the picture. He knocks to me. He calls for
me to open to him. Why? He says, open to me now
for my head is filled with dew and my locks with the drops of
the night. not just any dew, not just any
drops, not just any night. I've been out now in Gethsemane's trouble and my
head is filled with the dew of my own blood mixed with the dew
of heaven dropping from the throne of God. I've been to Calvary my head
pierced with thorns and mingled in the dark night of my affliction
wherewith my father afflicted me in his fierce anger when I
was made to be sin for you. Now, open to me because I've
been redeeming you. Open to me. I've been working
for you. Open to me, my sister, my spouse. I have ruled this world for you. Open to me." Look at verse three. Here is our horrid ingratitude. I put off my coat. How shall
I put it off? I've washed my how shall I defile
them? I'm at ease, rest, everything's
all right. My beloved speaks, in whose righteousness alone
I'm clothed, in whose blood alone I'm washed, But don't bother me right now.
I've got too many other things to concern me. I'm at ease now
in this relationship. I'm at ease now with you. Everything's
all right. I know everything well between
you and me. I put off my shoes. Don't bother
me now. I'm resting here in the carnal
ease. of that blessed security of grace
which I have made to be a bed of carnal ease. I'm here now,
consumed, as Buddy read in the office a little bit ago, with
the care of this world. Don't bother me now. But our
Lord Jesus, oh, how gracious he is. His love cannot be quenched. He's long-suffering, patient,
and gracious to his people, even in our most sinful rejection
and denial of him. Here's a picture of his unfailing,
persevering, effectual grace. Look at it. My beloved put in
his hand by the hole of the door, and my bowels move. religious,
most tender terms that can be used. Talks about moving of the
bowels, the moving of our affections, the moving of our hearts. How
does it happen? In those old Eastern homes, I'm
told, now I'm getting a little old. Some of you might think
that I can remember these things. I've read about them. They built
houses and they had doors and they had locks. But the master
of the house built his house in such a way that he didn't
have to have a key to get in. He'd just stick his hand in the
hole of the door and he knew where the lock was. And he clipped
the thumbers. And he'd open the door and come
on in. And this is how she pictures us. He calls and I said, don't
bother me now. Now I love you honey, but I don't
want to be disturbed right now. And he slips his hand. right
into our hearts and opens door and steps in and moves our hearts
further. Oh, blessed, blessed grace. Blessed, blessed Savior. Blessed, blessed God is He who
will not let us leave Him. I rejoice to know that Christ
will not leave us, and he will never let us quite leave him. Now then, here is a loving chastisement. He puts his hand into the heart,
and he moves our hearts toward him. And then we read in verse
seven, or verse five rather, I rose up to open to my beloved,
I rose up, boy, I'm so sorry. I wish I had not been so negligent.
Oh, my Lord, my Master, my Beloved, I wish I had hearkened to your
voice in the beginning. I rose up to open to Him, and
when I took hold of the doorknob to open to Him, oh, His sweet
word, His grace, His goodness, His mercy, His love. It covered my hands, my fingers
dropped with the sweet-smelling myrrh. Verse 6, I opened to my beloved,
but my beloved had withdrawn himself and was gone. The fact is, when we neglect Him, We are indifferent
to him. We refuse to hear him. We refuse to follow him. The Lord Jesus graciously hides
himself from us as he stirs up our hearts to seek him. Why does
he withdraw himself? He withdraws himself to cause
us to run after him. He hides himself to cause us
to seek him. He causes us by his grace to
be allowed to seek him, but he hides his face. He secludes himself,
watching over us all the time, but insisting that we must seek
him. He will be found only when we
want him and we seek him. My heart, my soul failed when
he spoke. that can be taken two ways. My
soul failed because I despised and neglected the opportunity,
or my soul failed its sake within me. I sought him but I could
not find him. I called him but he gave me no
answer. The watchman, watchman, that's what I am. Are you here
seeking Are you here endeavoring to find him, to worship him?
The watchman goes about the city. He found me. Found me by the
word. And the word he spoke pierced
my soul. They smote me. That's what happens
when you come and the word of God pierces your heart. It'll
smite you every time. It exposes your sin. It exposes
your guilt. It exposes your indifference.
It exposes your neglect. People go to church these days,
they want to be pumped up and made to feel good. It's the duty, the responsibility,
the work of the watchman to smite you with the word. Ever to expose
your sin. Ever to make you aware that in
yourself you're nothing and Christ is everything. You must have
him. They wounded me. It's what a sword does. It wounds. The keepers of the walls, that's
the watchman, that's the preacher, that's the gospel pastor. They
took away my veil from me. I walked about with that veil
and the keepers of the wall just stripped it off. And here I stand
now before the Word of God. and before my master, naked and
exposed in all my corruption, in all my indifference, in all
my neglect. Now then, here's one last hope. I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, I charge you, my brothers, my
sisters in Christ, I charge you, every one of you, every one of
you. If you find my beloved, tell him, oh tell him I'm sick
of love. Tell him I repent of my neglect. Tell him I confess my sin. Tell him I lament having driven
him from my breast. Tell him, I wait for him. Tell him, I want him. As we make preparations for our
conference, I've been praying and urging you to pray that God
will cause it to be a time of refreshing in his presence. That
he would visit again his vine and cause it to flourish. That
he would cause his word to go forth with power that our Redeemer
will one more time visit us in grace, make himself known. Now I have a word for you who
yet believe not. When Christ calls, when Christ
calls, listen to me now, when Christ calls, open to him. If you will hear his voice, harden
not your heart. I have a word for you who enjoy
the blessed fellowship of Christ. Cherish it. Grieve not the Holy
Spirit of God, whereby you're sealed into the day of redemption. And I have this word for you
who are the Lord's children, but you have by your own neglect
lost the blessedness of fellowship with Christ. Go back to the cross. As you have received Christ Jesus
the Lord, so walk ye in him. Seek him, confessing your sin,
your guilt, confessing your utter reliance upon him, and trust
him still. though he has withdrawn himself
and hides himself. Although my house be not so with
God, yet he hath made with me an everlasting covenant, ordered
in all things and sure. This is all my salvation and
all my desire, though he make it not to grow. He's my And I'm
going to seek Him. I'm going to seek Him. Return,
O Son of God, return. Come knock again upon my door. Dear Savior, my beloved, return. Possess me and depart no more. Amen.