Psalms 116:7

Return unto thy rest, O my soul, for the Lord hath dealt bountifully with thee.

The gate to rest

The psalmist exhorts his soul to return unto its rest; not because it has heard of God, or has seen His power in nature; not because He recognizes Divine order in the universe, not because his poetical feeling is kindled by the thought of Divine majesty and glory, but because he has had personal dealings with God. “Return unto thy rest, O my soul, for the Lord hath dealt bountifully with thee.” I supplicated Him, He “heard” my supplication, I was brought low, He “helped” me: He “delivered my soul from death.” He wiped the tears from my eyes and gave His angels charge to keep my feet from falling. Therefore, on my side, I too, will deal with Him. I will “call” upon Him: I will “rest” in Him: I will “walk before” Him: I will “believe” in Him: I will “pay my vows” to Him. We really need get back to the old Hebrew conception of God’s relation to man. But we never can do so through any conception of God which makes Him less than a personal Father in heaven. Now, let us look at three questions in the light of this thought of the soul’s rest, all of them practical questions which every thoughtful man asks. “Whence do I come? How shall my life be ordered? Whither am I going?” No soul is at rest until it can answer these three questions; and no soul will ever find rest until it shall have found its answer in God.

1. As to the first of these questions--“Whence did I come?” Modern thought is seeking rest for itself, not in God, but in scientific theories of the origin of man. We have no fault to find with such researches. All I say now is that the scientist does not give you anything restful, even if he succeeds in proving that God had no hand in your creation. You go on craving a leather in heaven just the same. You are restless as ever, no less restless than the child who knows his mother is in her grave, but who, nevertheless, cries for her unceasingly. You want the truth, but may not your filial instinct be truthful? May not your sense of sonship be a sense of a stupendous truth?

2. How shall I live? How make the most and best of life? What guides shall I follow? Here again we find a point of rest only in a personal God, a God of providence, who interferes (I am not afraid of the term) in our affairs. You may prove, if you can, that your life moves on under the guidance of mere, settled, mechanical order. That conclusion will not give you rest. If this world of men which we see and of which we are a part, with all its clashing and contradiction, its triumph of evil and its struggle of good, is uncontrolled by a Supreme Will, if men like grains of sand, merely fly before the wind that drives them against the rocks and against each other, if change, and sickness, and ruin, and death come just as the water shoots the precipice, just as two and two make four,--it is but mockery to point our souls to such a conception of life and say, “Return unto thy rest, O my soul.” We can obtain a calm, restful outlook upon life, a tranquil, cheerful participation in life only as we get back to God. We find these only when Christ leads us as He led the disciples of old to the market, and points to the little dead sparrow, and says “Your Father marked its fall; fear not, ye are of more value than many sparrows.” We shall not be frightened at a mystery, provided we know God is behind it.

3. And, once more, the soul finds no rest as regards the question of destiny, until it finds it in God. Whatever restful thought of heaven we have, whatever knowledge of its conditions we have, comes entirely from the moral quality of heaven, and therefore from the thought of God; for, take out God from the universe, and no determinate moral quality is left anywhere, in heaven or in earth. Heaven is heaven to us because God is there; because God’s law rules there absolutely; because its happiness is the happiness of perfect moral order. (M. R. Vincent, D.D.)

The soul’s rest

“There would seem,” says James Martineau, “to be an incurable variance between the life which men covet for themselves and that which they admire in others; nay, between the lot which they would choose beforehand and that in which they glory afterwards. In prospect, nothing appears so attractive as ease and licensed comfort; in retrospect, nothing so delightful as toil and strenuous service.” The truth of this remark is being repeatedly impressed upon us both by public and private circumstance. It does seem as if Providence had conditioned us to a lot of labour and struggle,--nay, forced it upon us,--while our first aim is to smooth our path and prepare the way for an after happiness which consists in rest and passive pleasure. Born for contest, we ask for repose. We would skip, if possible, the drill and the discipline, and clutch at once the prizes of victory. How many of us go through life like complaining school-children,--doing our tasks, it may be, but longing for the time when books shall be put aside and all lessons come to an end! But, notwithstanding the prevailing extent of this desire for repose and the fallacious arguments with which we attempt to cover our own delinquencies in the matter, human nature, in its inmost heart, is sound, and honours no repose which is not honourably achieved by contest and victory. Human nature is to be judged, not by the standard which individual men live by, or even set for themselves, but by that which they most admire in others; and that must be regarded as the aim of humanity at large, which, though exhibited in the attainment of but a single individual, gathers about it the greatest number who applaud and revere it. Who but the brave, who but those who against all obstacles have contended manfully and unflinchingly and kept their integrity to the bitter end, have ever been adopted as the models or worshipped as the heroes of mankind? How immeasurably more has the world admired the character of Socrates for refusing to avail himself of the plan of his jailer, who had been bribed to aid his escape! These two points, then, seem to be clearly established: first, in the midst of the toil, trials, and struggles of our lot there is an instinctive craving within us for rest; and yet, secondly, the standard of life which we also instinctively place the highest, and which, at the bottom of our hearts, we do most really admire, is that in which there is the least of rest. Solve this seeming paradox, and we shall answer the question of what the soul’s rest is. We crave for rest, it is true; and the desire is so universal that it must be regarded as instinctive. But, like all our instincts, the desire is blind. Instinct does not see and consciously choose its end, but gives only direction toward a certain satisfaction which human nature requires in order to fulfil its destiny. What is the extent and character of that satisfaction, not any one instinct or desire, but the whole nature, must determine. What, then, is the kind of rest which the human soul demands, and which alone can satisfy its desires? The rest that our natures crave is not the repose of passivity, of listlessness, of sleep, but the rest of healthy spiritual life,--of life in accordance with the laws of our being, which are laws of progressive activity, and, if obeyed, put us into harmony with the spirit and peace of God. The rest that we want is like the rest of the heavenly bodies, which, though all may be in rapid and varied movement, are yet at peace with regard to each other, because moving according to the harmony of a Divine law. And such rest as this we can have, though in the midst of labour and trial and conflict. It is the rest to which Jesus invited the “weary and heavy-laden”; the rest, not of those who have thrown their burdens off or would impose them upon others, but of those who would have taken upon them the yoke of God’s law, and find the “yoke easy” and the “burden light,” because, through obedience to this law, a mighty strength and a mighty peace have come into their being. (W. J. Potter.)

The Christian’s disposition under a sense of mercies received

I. The state of those with whom the Lord hath dealt bountifully.

1. The Lord hath dealt bountifully with those from whom He hath removed any affliction under which they groaned, and for deliverance from which they prayed.

2. The Lord hath dealt bountifully with you, if you can observe a particular mark and signature of His providence in your mercies.

(1) When the means by which any mercy is brought about are extraordinary, and far beyond the reach of human wisdom, it serves to show that God Himself hath been their help.

(2) Sometimes the providence of God is seen in the season of the mercy. It is bestowed when it is most needed, or when it may be of greatest use.

(3) The signature of providence is sometimes seen in the nature of the mercy, when it is exactly suited to the state and character of the person concerned.

3. The Lord deals bountifully with His people, when He gives them a clear and satisfying view of the salutary end, and enables them to make a sanctified use both of their trials and mercies.

4. The Lord hath dealt bountifully with those whom He hath admitted to the most intimate and spiritual communion with Himself; those whom He hath carried above the sphere of temptation, filled them with sensible joy in the Holy Ghost here, and earnest desires after the complete and perpetual enjoyment of His presence in heaven.

II. The import of the psalmist’s resolution.

1. Return and give the praise where it is due; and humbly acknowledge God as the author of thy mercies.

2. This expression may imply returning to God, and delighting in Him as our reconciled God, and supreme portion and happiness.

3. This expression implies a confidence and reliance on God for protection and security against future dangers.

III. Practical improvement.

1. Observe one great branch of the sinfulness of the world in general--forgetfulness of God, and unthankfulness for His mercies.

2. Let me beseech every serious person to consider how far he hath sinned against God and his own comfort by forgetting the goodness of God, both in common and special mercies.

3. Directions to those who are truly sensible of the goodness of God.

(1) Be circumspect and watchful; though a thankful frame of spirit is of great advantage, both for your sanctification and peace, yet it is not out of the reach of temptation; let it not produce pride, security, or self-sufficiency.

(2) Be public-spirited and useful; if the Lord hath dealt bountifully with you, commend His service, and speak to His praise.

(3) Be frequent and diligent in secret prayer. This is the way to preserve your watchfulness, and to increase your usefulness. (J. Witherspoon, D.D.)

Soul rest

I. As an original inheritance. “Return unto thy rest.” There is no rest for souls in places, however fair, beautiful, or grand; not in any externalisms, however calm and sunny. It is nowhere but in their own moral states. But what are the moral states that constitute soul rest?

1. Unquestioning trust.

2. Satisfying love.

3. Conscious rightness.

4. Congenial pursuits.

II. As a lost inheritance. The whole world is in disquiet. Men are trusting, but their trust is not unquestioning. The foundations of their hopes prove to be sand. The staff they grasp for support proves to be a reed that breaks beneath their weight. Everything they rest on fails them. Men are loving, but their love is unsatisfying. They are loving the imperfect, and the discovery of their imperfections distress them. They are loving the unreciprocating, and their indifference fills them with painful solicitude. They are loving the inconstant, and their inconstancy tosses them as timbers on the billows. They love the unhappy, and the sorrows they discern bring a shivering shadow over themselves. Men want righteousness; their deep cry is, “Oh! wretched man that I am.” They see the right, they reach after it, but it eludes their grasp. Men are active, but the pursuits they follow are uncongenial wish their nature, and felt to be unworthy of their lofty powers and destiny.

III. As a recoverable inheritance. The text implies the possibility of regaining the rest. How can this soul-rest be recovered? The Gospel and the Gospel alone returns the satisfactory answer. “Come unto me all ye that are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” How does He give rest? By supplying man with the necessary conditions. He presents the only object for unquestioning trust. One that is all-wise, all-kind, all-powerful, the unchangeable and eternal God. And He bids man to trust in Him that liveth for ever. He presents to man the only object for a satisfying-love. One who is all perfect, who is light, in whom is no darkness at all. One who returns in an infinite degree all the love that is given. One who is constant, who will never leave and never forsake. One who is happy--the “ever blessed God.” He supplies man with the means of becoming consciously right. He presents congenial pursuits--pursuits connected with the advancement of holiness, the promotion of human happiness, and the glory of God. (Homilist.)

The soul’s rest

1. From vain endeavours to relieve a burdened conscience, return unto thy rest, O my soul, in the perfected redemption and pardoning grace of Jesus.

2. From the distress and disquiet of inconsistent conduct, return unto thy rest, O my soul, in unreserved obedience to Christ. Cease that opposition; forsake that evil path: cast from thee the accursed thing; cease to do evil; and thus return unto thy rest.

3. From the fretting anxieties and disappointments of pride, return unto thy rest, O my soul, in the humility of Christ.

4. Disappointed in thy search for happiness elsewhere, return unto thy rest, O my soul, in the love of Jesus, and the peace the world cannot give. As the dove flew to and fro, finding no rest for the sole of her foot till she returned to the ark, so the believer cannot repose away from Christ, our true and only refuge.

5. From vain speculations and sceptical doubts, return unto thy rest, O my soul, by childlike faith in Christ.

6. From the sorrow caused by afflictions, return unto thy rest, O my soul, in the sure mercies of a God of Love. Rest in His wisdom; He knows what is most needful for thee. Rest in His love; He will not withhold what is good. Rest in His power; He is able to do what His love prompts and His wisdom plans. Rest in His tenderness; for as a father pitieth his children, so He pitieth thee. Rest in His faithfulness; He cannot deny Himself. Gratefully remember past deliverances, and thus “Return unto thy rest,” etc.

7. From all the trials of the present life, return unto thy rest, O my soul, in the home which is preparing for thee above. Every step of the journey brings us nearer. Every care, every conflict, every grief helps us onward. There is rest yonder. Let us even now enjoy it by anticipation. (Newman Hall, LL.B.)

The rest of the soul

I. God is the rest of the soul.

1. As the light of the intellect.

2. As the refuge from the charges of our consciences.

3. As our chief good.

4. As our almighty protector.

5. As our great and ultimate end.

II. The circumstances under which we are more especially called to return to God our rest.

1. When we are too much affected by the cares of ordinary life.

2. When we are pressed with uneasy fears as to our spiritual safety.

3. When we have vainly perplexed ourselves with difficulties.

4. When we have experienced special deliverance.

Having obtained from God pardon, a revival of piety, restoration from affliction, deliverance from temptation and sorrow; then we ought to summon the spirit to “cleave with purpose of heart to the Lord,” and to rest more fully in Him, who is the strength of our heart, our portion, our exceeding great reward. (R. Watson.)

“Return unto thy rest”

I. The believer has his rest. While trying to think how I should describe it, nothing seemed to strike me as a more full and accurate description of the believer’s rest than the apostolic benediction with which we are accustomed to dismiss our assemblies. If you have these three things,--the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Ghost,--I am sure I need not stay to prove to you that, in your experience, you have realized what it is to enjoy rest for your soul.

II. Sometimes the believer leaves that rest.

1. Through affliction.

2. Through a want of submission to the Divine will.

3. Through want of contentment.

4. Through the world’s joys.

5. Through allowing some conscious sin.

III. The believer, when he has gone away from his rest, should return to it; and the sooner he does so, the better. As Noah’s dove came back to him, so fly back to Christ, who is your Noah, your rest, for that is the meaning of the name.

1. It is quite certain that you can never rest anywhere else.

2. This unrest puts you out of order for everything.

3. Your want of rest is putting you into a state in which you are very liable to be tempted and overcome.

4. This unrest can do no possible good.

IV. The believer has one excellent encouragement to return: “Return unto thy rest, O my soul; for the Lord hath dealt bountifully with thee.” The psalmist tells us in detail what the Lord had done for him; or, rather, he tells the Lord. “Thou hast delivered my soul from death, mine eyes from tears, and my feet from falling.” Now, believer, you ought to come back, and rest in God, because you hays received from Him these three marks of His Divine favour. (C. H. Spurgeon.)

Spiritual rest

In reconciliation to God through Christ Jesus the soul regains its lost equilibrium, finds again the centre of repose for which it had been sighing in vain. What sensual pleasure, wealth, ease, honour, power, the applause of men--what even intellectual pursuits, and the domestic and social charities of life, fail to bestow, or bestow for the moment only to stimulate the thirst they seem to quench, in the ineffable sense of union with God the soul finds at lasts--rest, satisfaction, perfect peace.

1. This “rest” not bodily or physical, but mental or spiritual rest. When doubt and disbelief are gone, when the object of life is found in Christ, when God becomes the sure portion and sweetest joy of the heart, and the spirit within us, hitherto, it may be, groping bewildered amidst earthly hopes and pleasures, like one in the dark for the friendly hand, feels itself at last embraced in the sure grasp of strong and changeless love--then is the true rest of man, the stillness of the weary spirit in the everlasting arms. This is the only repose which is independent of outward circumstances. Even amidst the outer toil and distraction of the world, it is “the peace of God which keepeth the heart and mind.” Nor does death, which disunites and disturbs all else, for a moment interrupt its continuity: for the rest of the soul in Christ is identical with the rest of heaven--“the rest which remaineth for the people of God.”

2. It is the rest, not of immobility, but of equipoise. The rise of religion in the heart may be indicated by the bitter pangs of an awakened conscience, and by the painful struggle of spirit with sense, of the reviving element of moral freedom with the old and inveterate tyranny of sin in the soul. And it may only be by a long-protracted process of holy discipline that the soul attains at last to the complete mastery over self, the perfect inward harmony of a spirit in which every thought and feeling and desire are “brought into captivity to the obedience of Christ.” But when that glorious end is gained, then the “weary strife of frail humanity” is at an end, and a repose--oh how deep, how tranquil, how sublime!--diffuses itself throughout the spirit--a repose in which there is at once calmness and power, the sweet serenity of an infant’s slumbers, yet the strength of an angel of God.

3. The true “rest” of the soul is that, not of inactivity, but of congenial exertion. As love to Christ deepens in the soul that is truly given to Him, the work which it prompts us to do for Him loses the feeling of effort, and passes into pleasure. Less and less of set purpose do we need to constrain the mind to think of Him, or to approach Him in the formal attitude of devotion. The idea of Christ in the holy mind becomes gradually blended with all the actions of its daily life; thought goes out to Him as by a divine instinct; an ever-acting attraction draws the heart upwards to its great and first object, and life becomes an unconscious yet continuous prayer. The transition from motive to act, from holy intention and design to holy doing, becomes less and less marked, until at last the will acquires an almost mechanical certainty, an almost unconscious smoothness and rapidity of action. And so, with the unfettered ease of one “who playeth well upon an instrument,” from the many-stringed harp of life the soul renders up to God the sweet melody of holy deeds. Then indeed has it “returned into its rest.” (J. Caird, D.D.)

The soul’s resting-place

It seemed scarcely a stone’s throw from the busy streets, almost in the centre of the city’s crowding and rushing, that we found the quaint little park with its grass and trees, its flowers, its quiet resting-places and playing children. “How strange it seems to find such a garden spot in the heart of all the city’s din and traffic, its restless comings and goings!” we said, dropping down upon one of the rustic seats. “Yet how hard it would be to endure all the strain and turmoil if there were no such places!” “It is like life,” said a friend thoughtfully. “Our days are full of care and toil, of eager pursuit and feverish ambition. The demands of business, of civic duty, and of social life crowd and press upon each other; but deep in the heart of each of us, if life is what it should be, lies some quiet little garden spot, fenced about and protected. Our religious life has its roots there; it holds our holiest ties and friendships, and something from out our childhood which never grows old or dies. The world may fill our outward lives with the city’s roar and tumult, but the soul holds ever amid it all its garden of flowers and rest.” (W. L. Watkinson.)