1 Chronicles 29:15-16

For we are strangers before Thee.

Human frailty and its lessons

Every solemn moment of human life discovers more or less its vanity. It is not only when we stand beside the grave and mourn the wreck of hopes sad aspirations buried out of eight. The marriage festival also awakens a sense of insecurity, and the shadow of parting is thrown over the commencing union. The meetings of friends recall the thought of their separation, sad the inauguration of great works of public ceremonial brings up the image of those changes which all end in dissolution. Thus was it with David, when on the last public ceremony of his kingly life he presented with his people the offerings for the temple to the God of Israel It was a turn of thought poetical and yet natural to break away from that splendid throng, laden with gold and silver and other offerings for the house of God, and resonant with the sounds of music and the acclamations of joy, to dwell upon the shadows of vanished generations, and to anticipate the day when the living race should be one shadow more added to the crowd that had passed away.

I. First, then, what are some of the lessons of humiliation taught by the shadowy and vanishing character of human existence?

1. The insufficiency of man, for his own happiness. If he is but a “stranger and sojourner upon the earth,” if he is only one of a succession of vanishing ciphers, if his days be only as a “shadow that declineth,” and which soon passes into darkness, is it possible for such a creature, if he have no higher resources, to be happy? At best we must say that happiness is only possible on one of two conditions. Either the nature of man must be capable of being satisfied with this transient existence, when it is prolonged to its greatest duration, or his nature must be capable of averting its view from all the risks and hazards which tend at any moment to bring it to a close. Could the longest life satisfy, man might have here some measure of true good; or could he forget the perils which threaten at any moment to shorten it, he might not be altogether miserable. But neither of these alternatives is possible. Take the longest and the most untroubled life, the most filled with worldly advantage and prosperity--can it satisfy the human soul upon the supposition that this is the whole of existence? No. The soul shrinks from annihiilation. But it it be impossible to be happy even with an untroubled life that vanishes into nothing, how much less when the shadow of death is constantly invading us and refusing to be put away! To forget the rapid flight of time and the certain descent to the grave is for us impossible. Our life is strewn with mementos of its speedy end. We have seen the summer flowers and the winter snows alike swept aside to prepare a grave. The insufficiency of man to be his own portion is thus only too visible. He cannot, because life does not contain sufficient scope for him, and because the little that it contains is checkered with the thread of death in all its texture. Man must learn that he is at best a frail and dying creature, and that if in this life only he have hope he is of all God’s creatures most miserable.

2. The blindness of human nature to its own mortality. We cannot make ourselves happy either by resting in life as a whole, or by shutting out the shadows of death which cloud it; but we are perpetually attempting to do so, and thus are fighting against the nature of things and against God. What is the whole struggle of the ungodly man but an attempt to build his all upon a mortal foundation; to make a pilgrimage a home, a shadow a reality, the surface of a river a solid and lasting pavement?

3. The third and last lesson of humiliation which I notice is the evil of sin. Sin is the parent of death, the grand destroyer of life’s joys, and the creator of its gloom, its shadow, and its insufficiency. Sin mows down all the generations of mankind with relentless sternness. The plague of sin has been in our bones, and therefore their strength has perished, and the beauty of man has consumed like a moth, and he has been altogether vanity.

II. Having thus spoken of lessons of humiliation, let me now mention some lessons of consolation that may be set over against the brevity and uncertainty of earthly existence. I confine myself to two drawn from the text.

1. We have for our consolation the knowledge of God’s eternity. “We are,” says the King of Israel, “strangers before Thee.” This is the first ray of comfort. It is like a rock in the midst of the tossing ocean. Take away an everlasting God, and what an awful sadness covers all! If there be no living personal Being before whom our little life is led, by whom its moments are measured out and its destinies fixed; if all be under the dominion of a dark, stern fate that knows and feels nothing, or of a blind chance that orders nothing; if we are tossed and driven upon a waste and melancholy ocean, which at last engulfs our frail bark in its dull, unconscious surge, with no sun or star or eternal eye looking down upon our struggles and our extinction--then, oh how dreary, how unrelieved the picture of utter hopelessness and emptiness, making it good for us that we had never been born! The eternity of a living God was David’s consolation, and that of all the fathers of Israel. It is not less ours; and from this high tower we look down with composure on all the waves of trouble, and feel that so long as we are not “without God” we can never be “without hope in the world.”

2. But we have also, for our consolation, the knowledge of God’s covenant love. David prays. The mutable and perishable addresses the Immutable and the Imperishable. He rests on the basis of a covenant. He is dealing with a God who has come near, who has His tabernacle with men, who is pacified towards them for their sins, who has compassion upon their sorrows and their death, and has delivered them from going down to the pit, having found a ransom. This is the inspiration of David’s prayer. His confession is not the melancholy utterance of nature’s despondency, which gives up all for lost. It is only the voice of pious humility, which renounces all creature trust, that it may recover all in God. We see more clearly than did David how God, the eternal Justice, is become the dying sinner’s friend and portion; how the greatness of His attributes harmonised in Christ, becomes the measure of the greatness of our deliverance; how, united to Him, our life is no more the shadow, but our death, and that which marks our true nature is not the evanescent, but the abiding and the eternal. “Because I live, ye shall live also.” Oh! be it ours to lay hold of this covenant of which Jesus is the Mediator; and then, in unison with the eternal God, we may defy death to leave on us the print of its corrupting finger, and to involve our existence in one permanent shadow, for He whose life is the light of men shall swallow up our death in victory, and neither things present nor things to come shall part us from His covenant love.

III. I now come, in the third and last place, to mention some lessons of exhortation arising out of our mortality and decay.

1. The first lesson of exhortation is to diligence in God’s work. David does not reason, as some do, “What can shadows like us accomplish in building up the temple of God?” This is an unworthy and an un-Christian despondency. As David served his generation, in spite of his keen perception of the evaneseance of human life in general, so should we. The Church of God has been brought to its present state of advancement by such shadows. Each generation has helped it forward, though by small degrees; and as the coral insects build the islands of the Pacific Ocean, so have these small and insignificant labourers of the human family, whose “foundation is in the dust and who are crushed before the moth,” reared up the walls of Jerusalem, and given it its present strength and beauty in the eyes of all nations. Let us repel the idea that our life is of little worth and value in relation to the advancement of the kingdom of God. The treasure may be in earthen vessels, but the excellency of the power is all the more seen to be Divine. Life is ours as death is theirs; and so long as we are in the world let us labour like our blessed and Divine Lord to be the light of the world.

2. Our second lesson of exhortation is to acquiesce in God’s appointments. David at this time felt himself on the edge of the grave, and was willing to hand over to Solomon the prosecution of the work on which his heart had so long been set. He felt that it belonged to God to choose His own instruments, and from a rapidly vanishing race to select such individuals for His work as to Him seemed best. We may apply this lesson in the way of teaching us to be willing to depart and leave the work of God to others, whenever He shall so ordain. But we may also apply it in another way, so as to teach us to be willing to remain, and do the work of God which has fallen into our hands, though others are withdrawn.

3. Our third lesson of exhortation is to prepare for our own departure. We must be strangely constituted if the removal of others awakens in us no foreboding of our own end. Are we, then, prepared? Preparation is of two kinds. The saint is prepared when he is doing with his might whatsoever his hand findeth to do; when he is steadfast and immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord; when his eye is constantly directed towards the Cross that so he may wash away the stains of daily sin, and not less towards the throne that he may receive his daily instructions from his unseen Lord, and run in the way of His commandments with enlarged heart. But there is also, the preparation of the sinner, and this must begin at an earlier starting-point. Years have not repealed the law, “Ye must be born again”; nor has the multitude of feet smoothed an entrance into the Zion of God. (John Cairns.)

The grandeur of human opportunity

I. The shortness of life.

II. The grandeur of human opportunity.

1. There is no sign of sadness in the scene before us. David’s mind and heart are filled with the thought of God, and with the things of God.

2. This preparation for the building of the temple was an act of thanksgiving.

3. The splendour of the preparation is an evidence of David’s zeal for the house of the Lord. Giving was regarded by David, not as a duty, but a privilege--a grand opportunity of turning the “mammon of unrighteousness” to eternal account. Thin zeal for the house of God is one of the marked features of the Psalter (Psalms 26:1; Psalms 27:1; Psalms 84:1; Psalms 92:1; etc.).

III. Lessons.

1. The remembrance of the shortness of life (Psalms 39:4), for the purpose of using time aright.

2. To take the measure of earthly things as we shall do when we look back over the day of life (Deuteronomy 32:29).

3. All that is done for the kingdom of God remains. Another generation may have to carry out what we only begin. (The Thinker.)

The transitoriness of life

I. To illustrate the assertion, “No abiding.” This may apply to--

1. Human honours.

2. The pleasures of sense.

3. Worldly profits.

4. Particularly to man’s life.

To impress this truth, reflect--

(1) That we have sinful souls, and that therefore we must die. “The wages of sin is death.”

(2) On the frailty of our bodies and their liability to disease,

II. To direct to a proper improvement of the truth.

1. Immediately close with Christ the Saviour.

2. Diligently apply to your proper work.

(1) In relation to God. “This is the work of God, that ye believe on Him whom He hath sent.”

(2) In relation to yourselves. Salvation is a matter of the last importance.

(3) In relation to your neighbours. “As ye have opportunity do good unto all men.”

3. Cleave not to earthly things.

4. Murmur not under crosses.

5. Labour for the conversion of sinners.

Address--

1. The aged.

2. The young. (E. Brown.)

Strangers and sojourners

1. How short our stay is! The average life is less than thirty-five years. Multitudes die in infancy. No man can say that this is his home. He knows not how long he will remain. He is not even sure that he will be here to-morrow. He is a “sojourner.”

2. He is a “stranger.” He does not have time to become acquainted. “The proper study of mankind” may be “man,” but life is too short to make much proficiency in it. The average man has no real knowledge of his fellow-men. Of their inner lives he knows nothing.

3. Nor have we a better knowledge of the world. Who knows the secrets of rocks and hills, or the laws of vegetable life? Who understands the mighty forces of nature, or the mysteries of the visible universe? Who can interpret for me the message of the pebble beneath my feet? One of the wisest of mankind likened himself to a child playing on the shores of an unknown ocean. Sensible men no longer attempt to learn everything. Realising the shortness of the time, they select some particular branch of learning and count themselves fortunate if they succeed in mastering that ere death comes.

4. The brevity and uncertainty of man’s sojourn make sad havoc with cherished plans and stamp his whole career with incompleteness. Man’s tenure is feeble and precarious.

5. This solemn undertone of life’s song is often referred to in the Bible.

6. Out of the ashes of despair hope springs. The very words “strangers and sojourners” are suggestive of a place where man will be at home. The very brevity and incompleteness of earthly life raise the question whether there is not some complemental life. Since the powers are not developed, the character not matured, the plans not executed here, the mind instinctively believes that there is a place where they will be. “What a waste,” exclaims Burr, “if death ends all! What a host of abortive and abandoned undertakings! Whole cities of houses in the first stages of building, and lo, all work finally suspended; whole navies in the dockyards with great keels fairly laid, and then left to rot! Who does such things? Here and there a fickle, foolish, or impoverished man, but certainly not the all-wise and all-mighty and steadfast God.” A dead man is “merely an evicted tenant.” He has gone out of sight but not out of mind.

7. The Word of God sets this truth in the white light of revelation. Christ comforts His sorrowing disciples by reminding them of “the mansions” prepared for them.

8. This thought lends inspiration to endeavour and affords comfort under the troubles of life.

Conclusion:

1. Take the right road. That road begins and ends in Christ.

2. Make spiritual use of temporal things. True riches are spiritual, and temporal riches are of value only as they are used for spiritual ends. God will require an account of our stewardship.

3. “Live by the faith of the Son of God.” (Arthur J. Brown, D. D.)

The real nature of human life

I. As strangers here we ought to guard against an excessive and unrestrained indulgence of our appetites and passions. This objection will appear by reflecting--

1. Upon the nature of our present situation, and what our proper employment ought to be while we sojourn here. We are placed here in order to prepare for the perfection of the heavenly state. Our course ought to be a continued and gradual progress from lesser to higher degrees of piety and virtue. Like a river enlarging as it runs, these ought to increase, and flow in a stream continually augmented. It is a sign of a base and ignoble spirit to linger on the road, or set up his rest in a strange country, fond of its foreign entertainments, and neglecting to move towards his home, where alone his chief occupation and his chief happiness are to be found. As a man cannot easily travel who is heavily burdened, neither can any one make any progress in a virtuous course when fettered by the pleasures and interests of this world.

2. Upon the nature of those things which excite our desires and solicit our indulgence. These are: wealth, outward honours, fame, pleasure, everything included in the term prosperity. These are--

(1) Deceitful.

(2) Unsatisfying.

(3) Beyond our control.

3. That death will put a final period to them all.

II. As strangers here we ought with firmness to encounter and with patience to endure its difficulties and distresses. This is suggested--

1. By the nature of our journey through this life.

2. By reflecting on the origin of our afflictions and for what end they are intended. They are appointed by God, and are intended to improve man in virtue and happiness.

3. By the fleeting and shortlived character of our troubles and misfortunes. To the present state they are confined, and with our bodies they shall die. (J. Drysdale, D. D.)

Mankind considered as strangers and sojourners on earth

This proposition is liable to many mistakes. It does not mean--

1. That we are here in a place unsuited to us, for which we were not designed, or to which our Creator had either exiled us as a punishment or only placed us in for a certain period without having any particular view in so doing, till He could assign to us at some other time a different place in the territory of His dominion.

2. That we must be as indifferent to all the objects around us and take as little interest in them as travellers and strangers are wont to do in the several places of their short sojourn.

3. That we here are only obnoxious to toils, troubles, and sorrows, and incapable of real happiness, as though all that is so called existed nowhere but in the imagination, or as though we could here enjoy happiness merely in hope, in agreeable prospects of futurity. How, then, and in what sense are we strangers and sojourners on earth?

I. Since we have here no inheritance in the strictest import of the expression, since we possess nothing on the possession whereof we can rely.

II. In that we cannot here attain the whole of our destination, we cannot be and become all that our Creator designs. We here only begin to unfold our faculties.

III. We cannot here find all that we wish for and require, and what in itself may be good and desirable, but that alone which is proper for this station and for our present constitution. In the exercise of our faculties we frequently meet with insurmountable obstacles. Seldom can we do as much good and for so long a time as we could wish. We cannot here find happiness that fully satisfies, that is uninterrupted in its duration, and its enjoyment not subject to casualty or change.

IV. We are not appointed in perpetuity to this terrestrial life.

V. We have a country to which we are hastening, and in which alone we shall reach our destination. Improvement:

1. Seek nothing here that is not here to be found.

2. Be not surprised nor troubled at anything which is a natural consequence of your present condition, which is inseparable from the pilgrim life which you lead.

3. Beware of rendering your pilgrimage still more laborious by avoidable deviations and mistakes.

4. Reckon your present state always for that which it really is, and use it always to the purposes for which it is designed. It is not the term, but the way to the term. It is not the most perfect mode of existence and of life whereof you are capable, but only the first, the lowest stage of it.

5. Never be unmindful of your better, celestial country. (Anon.)

Strangers and sojourners

This expression is remarkable, they are strangers “before the Lord.” He knows them to be such, and it is by His wise and gracious appointment that they are so.

I. All true believers are strangers and sojourners upon earth, in respect to their actual state and condition. The saints in this world are like travellers in a foreign land, or like a merchant ship in a strange port; the day of return is set, and it only waits till the freight is ready.

II. With respect to their temper and disposition.

1. They manifest the disposition of strangers and sojourners by their comparative indifference to the things of the present world.

2. As strangers they intermeddle not with things that do not immediately concern them, and are not busybodies in other people’s matters.

3. Strangers long to be at home, are often sending home, and will be grieved if they do not hear from thence.

III. Real Christians are often treated like strangers by the men of the world. The principles by which they are actuated, the inward conflicts, joys, and consolations which they experience, the hopes and prospects which they entertain, are all unknown to the unbelieving world, who regard them only as so many misguided enthusiasts. Men wonder at their zeal and fervency, their mortification and self-denial, their courage and resolution. They also wonder that they do not run with them to the same excess of riot (1 Peter 4:4).

IV. Christians are only sojourners. A sojourner is one who dwells in a strange country, in which he has no possession, but takes up a temporary residence (Leviticus 25:23; 1 Peter 1:17).

V. Our being strangers and sojourners upon the earth is sufficiently illustrated and confirmed by our actual condition, or the shortness of time, and the mutability of our state. Inferences:

1. Let us learn to be more indifferent about things present.

2. The brevity of our state should teach us to improve time while we have it.

3. Adore the mercy and forbearance which did not cut us off in our sins.

4. Learn to live in the constant expectation of death and judgment, as if every day were to be the last.

5. If true believers in every age have been strangers and sojourners upon the earth, let us carefully examine how far this character belongs to us.

6. If we really bear the character of a pilgrim in a strange land, let us be careful to act upon it.

7. Let us bear with meekness and patience the troubles we may meet with by the way.

8. Let us endeavour to lead others into the way we are going (Numbers 10:29; Jeremiah 6:16; John 14:6).

9. Learn to be kind-hearted to all who are travelling Zionward, to love as brethren and strengthen each other’s hands in the Lord. 10. Consider what a hearty welcome awaits you when you reach your destination. (B. Beddome, M. A.)

Strangers and sojourners

This is the testimony of an old man, a wise man, a great man.

I. We have here a description of human life--a pilgrimage. Other Scriptural figures--an arrow flying through the air; a race; a flower. No figure more aptly describes human life than that of a journey, as it represents the whole world in all its distinctions, rich and poor, wise and foolish, young and old, all journeying to their everlasting home.

II. An inference of Christian duty. (R. C. Dillon.)

Earth not a place of rest

I have read in classic literature of men pursued by the avenging furies; and in American story of certain Indians who, driven out of their hunting-grounds by the pursuing flames, ran on and on until, half-dead, they came to a noble river, and swiftly fording it sat round their chief as he struck his tent-pole into the ground and threw himself on the cool turf, crying, “Alabama! Alabama! here we may rest.” But no, before sleep had refreshed their weary bodies their new home was claimed by hostile tribes. Earth has no resting-place for souls. (J. Clifford, D. D.)

Folly of presuming on life

The late Mayor of Chicago uttered the following boast: “I believe that I will live to see the day when Chicago will be the biggest city in America. I don’t count the past. I have taken a new lease of life, and I intend to live more than half a century; and at the end of that half-century London will be trembling lest Chicago should surpass her.” Within eight hours the bullet of the assassin had in ten brief minutes finished the earthly career of the author of the words I have quoted. (The Christian.)

All must be quitted

A fatal malady seized on Cardinal Mazarin, whilst engaged in affairs of State. He consulted Guenaud, the physician, who told him he had two months to live. Some days after, the Cardinal was seen in his nightcap and dressing-gown creeping along his picture-gallery and exclaiming, “Must I quit all these?” He saw a friend and held him: “Look at that Correggio! this Venus of Titian! that incomparable Deluge of Caracci! Ah! my friend, I must quit all these. Farewell, dear pictures, that I love so dearly, and that cost me so much!”