Chapter 6
Jehovah
“That men may know that
thou, whose name alone is Jehovah, art the most High over all the
earth.”
Among all the names of God perhaps the most
comprehensive is the name Jehovah. Cruden describes this name as the
incommunicable name of God. The word Jehovah means the self-existing One, the “I
am”; and it is generally used as a direct revelation of what God is. In several
places an explanatory word is added, revealing some one of His special
characteristics; and it is to these that I want particularly to call attention.
They are as follows:
Jehovah-jireh, i.e., The Lord will see, or the Lord will
provide.
Jehovah-nissi, i.e., The Lord my Banner.
Jehovah-shalom, i.e., The Lord our Peace.
Jehovah-tsidkenu, i.e., The Lord our Righteousness.
Jehovah-shammah, i.e., The Lord is there.
These names were discovered by God’s people in times of
sore need; that is, the characteristics they describe were discovered, and the
names were the natural expression of these characteristics.
When Abraham was about to sacrifice his son, and saw no
way of escape, the Lord provided a lamb for the sacrifice and delivered Isaac;
and Abraham made the grand discovery that it was one of the characteristics of
Jehovah to see and provide for the needs of His people. Therefore he called Him
Jehovah-jireh—the Lord will see, or the Lord will provide.
The counterparts to this in the New Testament are very
numerous. Over and over our Lord urges us to take no care, because God careth
for us. “Your heavenly Father knoweth,” He says, “that ye have need of all these
things.” If the Lord sees and knows our need, it will be a matter of course with
Him to provide for it. Being our Father, He could not do anything else. As soon
as a good mother sees that her child needs anything, at once she sets about
supplying that need. She does not even wait for the child to ask, the sight of
the need is asking enough. Being a good mother, she could not do otherwise.
When God, therefore, says to us, “I am he that seeth thy
need,” He in reality says also, “I am he that provideth,” for He cannot see, and
fail to provide.
“Why do I not have everything I want, then?” you may
ask. Only because God sees that what you want is not really the thing you need,
but probably exactly the opposite. Often, in order to give us what we need, the
Lord is obliged to keep from us what we want. Your heavenly Father knoweth what
things ye have need of, you do not know; and were all your wants gratified, it
might well be that all your needs would be left unsupplied. It surely ought to
suffice us that our God is indeed Jehovah-jireh, the Lord who will see, and who
will therefore provide.
But I am afraid a great many Christians of the present
day have never made Abraham’s discovery, and do not know that the Lord is really
Jehovah-jirah. They are trusting Him, it may be, to save their souls in the
future, but they never dream He wants to carry their cares for them now and
here. They are like a man I have heard of, with a heavy load on his back, who
was given a lift by a friend, and who thankfully availed himself of it. Climbing
into the conveyance, but still keeping his burden on his back, he sat there
bowed down under the weight of it. “Why do you not put your burden down on the
bottom of the carriage?” asked his friend.
“Oh,” replied the man, “it is a great deal to ask you to
carry me myself, and I could not ask you to carry my burden also.” You wonder
that anyone could be so foolish, and yet are you not doing the same? Are you not
trusting the Lord to take care of yourself, but are still going on carrying your
burdens on your own shoulders? Which is the silliest—that man or you?
Jehovah-nissi, i.e., “The Lord my banner,” was a
discovery made by Moses when Amalek came to fight with Israel in Rephidim, and
the Lord gave the Israelites a glorious victory. Moses realized that the Lord
was fighting for them, and he built an altar to Jehovah-nissi, “The Lord my
banner.” The Bible is full of developments of this name. “The Lord is a man of
war”; “The Lord your God, he it is that fighteth for you”; “The Lord shall fight
for you, and ye shall hold your peace”; “Be not afraid nor dismayed, by reason
of this great multitude, for the battle is not yours, but God’s”; “God himself
is with us for our captain.”
Nothing is more abundantly proved in the Bible than
this, that the Lord will fight for us if we will but let Him. He knows that we
have no strength nor might against our spiritual enemies; and, like a tender
mother when her helpless children are attacked by an enemy, He fights for us;
and all He asks of us is to be still and let Him. This is the only sort of
spiritual conflict that is ever successful. But we are very slow to learn this,
and when temptations come, instead of handing the battle over to the Lord, we
summon all our forces to fight them ourselves. We believe, perhaps, that the
Lord is somewhere near, and, if the worst comes to the worst, will step in to
help us; but for the most part we feel that we ourselves, and we only, must do
all the fighting. Our method of fighting consists generally in a series of
repentings, and making resolutions and promises, and weary struggles for
victory, and then failing again; and again repentance, and resolutions, and
promises, and renewed struggles, and all this over, and over, and over again,
each time telling ourselves that now at last we certainly will have the victory,
and each time failing even worse than before. And this may go on for weeks, or
months, or even years, and no real or permanent deliverance ever comes.
But you may ask, “Are we not to do any fighting
ourselves?” Of course we are to fight, but not in this fashion. We are to fight
the “good fight of faith,” as Paul exhorted Timothy; and the fight of faith is
not a fight of effort or of struggle, but it is a fight of trusting. It is the
kind of fight that Hezekiah fought when he and his army marched out to meet
their enemy, singing songs of victory as they went, and finding their enemy all
dead men. Our part in this fight is to hand the battle over to the Lord, and to
trust Him for the victory.
And we are to put on His armor, not our own. The apostle
tells us what it is. It is the girdle of truth, and the breastplate of
righteousness, and the preparation of the gospel of peace on our feet, and the
helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit which is the Word of God; but
above all, he says, we are to take the shield of faith wherewith we shall be
able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked.
There is nothing here about promises or resolutions;
nothing about hours and days of agonizing struggles, and of bitter remorse.
“Above all things taking the shield of faith.” Above all things faith. Faith is
the one essential thing, without which all else is useless. And it means that we
must not only hand the battle over to the Lord, but we must leave it with Him,
and must have absolute faith that He will conquer. It is here where the fight
comes in. It seems so unsafe to sit still, and do nothing but trust the Lord;
and the temptation to take the battle back into our own hands is often
tremendous. To keep hands off in spiritual matters is as hard for us as it is
for the drowning man to keep hands off the one who is trying to rescue him. We
all know how impossible it is to rescue a drowning man who tries to help his
rescuer, and it is equally impossible for the Lord to fight our battles for us
when we insist upon trying to fight them ourselves. It is not that He will not,
but He cannot. Our interference hinders His working. Spiritual forces cannot
work while earthly forces are active.
Our Lord tells us that without Him we can do nothing,
and we have read and repeated His words hundreds of times; but does anyone
really believe they are actually true? If we should drag out into the light our
secret thoughts on the subject, should we not find them to be something like
this: “When Christ said those words He meant of course to say that we cannot of
ourselves do much, or at any rate no great things. But nothing; ah, no, that is
impossible. We are not babies, and we are certainly meant to use all the
strength we have in fighting our enemies; and, when our own strength gives out,
we can then call upon the Lord to help us.” In spite of all our failures, we
cannot help thinking that, if only we should try harder and be more persistent,
we should be equal to any encounter. But we entirely overlook the vital fact
that our natural powers are of no avail in spiritual regions or with spiritual
enemies. The grub of the dragonfly, that lives at the bottom of the pond, may be
a finely developed and vigorous grub; but, when it becomes a dragonfly, the
powers of its grub life, that availed for creeping about in the mud, would be
useless for winging its flight in the free air.
And just as our skill in walking on the earth would
avail us nothing if we had to fly in the air, so our natural powers are of no
avail in spiritual warfare. They are, in fact, if we try to depend on them, real
hindrances, just as trying to walk would hinder us, if we sought to float or to
fly. We can easily see, therefore, that the result of trusting in ourselves,
when dealing with our spiritual enemies, must inevitable be very serious. It not
only causes failure, but in the end it causes rebellion; and a great deal of
what is called “spiritual conflict” might far better be named “spiritual
rebellion.” God has told us to cease from our own efforts, and to hand our
battles over to Him, and we point blank refuse to obey Him. We fight, it is
true, but it is not a fight of faith, but a fight of unbelief. Our spiritual
“wrestling,” of which we are often so proud, is really a wrestling, not for God
against His enemies, but against Him on the side of His enemies. We allow
ourselves to indulge in doubts and fears, and as a consequence we are plunged
into darkness, and turmoil, and wrestlings of spirit. And then we call this
“spiritual conflict,” and look upon ourselves as an interesting and “peculiar
case.” The single word that explains our “peculiar case” is the word
unbelief, and the simple remedy is to be found in the word
faith.
But you may ask, what about “wrestling Jacob”? Did he
not gain his victory by wrestling? To this I reply, that on the contrary he
gained his victory by being made so weak that he could not wrestle any longer.
It was not Jacob who wrestled with the angel, but the angel who wrestled with
Jacob. Jacob was the one to be overcome; and when the angel found that Jacob’s
resistance was so great that he could not “prevail against him,” he was obliged
to make him lame by putting his thigh out of joint; and then the victory was
won. As soon as Jacob was too weak to resist any longer, he prevailed with God.
He gained power when he lost it. He conquered when he could no longer fight.
Jacob’s experience is ours. The Lord wrestles with us in
order to bring us to a place of entire dependence on Him. We resist as long as
we have any strength; until at last He is forced to bring us to a place of
helplessness, where we are obliged to yield; and then we conquer by this very
yielding. Our victory is always the victory of weakness. Paul knew this victory
when he said: “And the Lord said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee; for
my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather
glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore I
take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in
distresses for Christ’s sake; for when I am weak, then am I strong.”
Who would ask for a more magnificent victory than
this!
And this victory will be ours, if we take the Lord to be
our Banner, and commit all our battles to Him.
The name of Jehovah-shalom, or “The Lord our peace,” was
discovered by Gideon when the Lord had called him to a work for which he felt
himself to be utterly unfitted. “Oh, my Lord,” he had said, “wherewith shall I
save Israel? Behold, my family is poor in Manasseh, and I am the least of my
father’s house.” And the Lord answered him, saying: “Surely I will be with thee,
and thou shalt smite the Midianites as one man ... And the Lord said unto him,
Peace be unto thee: fear not; for thou shalt not die.” Then Gideon believed the
Lord; and, although the battle had not yet been fought, and no victories had
been won, with the eye of faith he saw peace already secured and he built an
altar unto the Lord, and called it Jehovah-shalom, i.e., “The Lord our
peace.”
Of all the needs of the human heart none is greater than
the need for peace; and none is more abundantly promised in the Gospel. “Peace I
leave with you,” says our Lord, “my peace I give unto you. Let not your heart be
troubled, neither let it be afraid.” And again He says: “These things have I
spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have
tribulation: but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.”
Our idea of peace is that it must be outward before it
can be inward, that all enemies must be driven away, and all troubles cease. But
the Lord’s idea was of an interior peace that could exist in the midst of
turmoil, and could be triumphant over it. And the ground of this sort of peace
is found in the fact, not that we have overcome the world, or that we ever can,
but that Christ has overcome it. Only the conqueror can proclaim peace, and the
people, whose battles He has fought, can do nothing but enter into it. They can
neither make nor unmake it. But, if they choose, they can refuse to believe in
it, and so can fail to let it reign in their hearts. You may be afraid to
believe that Christ has made peace for you, and so may live on in a weary state
of warfare; but nevertheless, He has done it, and all your continued warfare is
worse than useless.
The Bible tells us that Christ is our peace, and
consequently, whether I feel as if I had peace or not, peace is really mine in
Christ, and I must take possession of it by faith. Faith is simply to believe
and assert the thing that God says. If He says there is peace, faith asserts
that there is, and enters into the enjoyment of it. If He has proclaimed peace
in the Bible, I must proclaim it in my own heart, let the seemings be what they
may. “The kingdom of God is righteousness, peace, and joy, in the Holy Ghost,”
and the soul that has not taken possession of peace has not yet fully entered
into this kingdom.
Practically I believe we can always enter into peace by
a simple obedience to Philippians 4:6,7: “Be careful for nothing; but in
everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be
made known unto God. And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding,
shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.” The steps here are very
plain, and they are only two. First, give up all anxiety; and second, hand over
your cares to God; and then stand steadfastly here; peace must come. It simply
must, for there is no room for anything else.
The name Jehovah-tsidkenu, “The Lord our righteousness,”
was revealed by the Lord Himself through the mouth of the prophet Jeremiah, when
he was announcing the coming of Christ. “Behold, the day is come, saith the
Lord, that I will raise unto David a righteous Branch, and a King shall reign
and prosper, and shall execute judgment and justice in the earth. In his days
Judah shall be saved, and Israel shall dwell safely, and this is the name
whereby he shall be called, Jehovah-tsidkenu, The Lord our righteousness.”
Greater than any other need is our need for
righteousness. Most of the struggles and conflicts of our Christian life come
from our fights with sin, and our efforts after righteousness. And I need not
say how great are our failures. As long as we try to conquer sin or attain to
righteousness by our own efforts, we are bound to fail. But if we discover that
the Lord is our righteousness, we shall have the secret of victory. In the Lord
Jesus Christ we have a fuller revelation of this wonderful name of God. The
apostle Paul in his character as the “ambassador for Christ” declares that God
hath made Christ to be sin for us, that we might be made the righteousness of
God in Him. And again he says that Christ is made unto us wisdom, and
righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption. I am afraid that very few
Christians really understand what this means. We repeat the words as belonging
to our religious vocabulary, and in a vague sort of way think of them as being
somehow a part of the salvation of Christ, but what part or of what practical
use we have very little real idea.
To me this name of God, the Lord our righteousness,
seems of such tremendously practical use that I want if possible to make it
plain to others. But it is difficult; and I cannot possibly explain it
theologically. But experimentally it seems to me like this: We are not to try to
have a stock of righteousness laid up in ourselves, from which to draw a supply
when needed, but we are to draw continual fresh supplies as we need them from
the righteousness that is laid up for us in Christ. I mean, that if we need
righteousness of any sort, such as patience, or humility, or love, it is useless
for us to look within, hoping to find a supply there, for we never will find it;
but we must simply take it by faith, as a possession that is stored up for us in
Christ, who is our righteousness. If I cannot tell theologically how this is
done, I know experimentally that it can be done, and that the results are
triumphant. I have seen sweetness and gentleness poured like a flood of sunshine
into dark and bitter spirits, when the hand of faith has been reached out to
grasp them as a present possession, stored up for all who need in Christ. I have
seen sharp tongues made tender, anxious hearts made calm, and fretful spirits
made quiet by the simple step of taking by faith the righteousness that is ours
in Christ.
The apostle, after proving to us in the third chapter of
Romans the absolute impossibility of any satisfying righteousness coming to us
by the law (that is, by our own efforts) goes on to say: “But now the
righteousness of God without the law is manifested, being witnessed by the law
and the prophets, even the righteousness of God which is by faith of Jesus
Christ unto all and upon all them that believe; for there is no difference.”
It is faith and faith only that can appropriate this
righteousness that is ours in Christ. Just as we appropriate by faith the
forgiveness that is ours in Christ, so must we appropriate by faith the patience
that is ours in Him, or the gentleness, or the meekness, or the long-suffering,
or any other virtue we may need. Our own efforts will not procure righteousness
for us, any more than they will procure forgiveness. And yet how many Christians
try! Paul describes them when he says: “For I bear them record that they have a
zeal of God, but not according to knowledge. For they being ignorant of God’s
righteousness, and going about to establish their own righteousness, have not
submitted themselves unto the righteousness of God. For Christ is the end of the
law for righteousness to every one that believeth.”
Would that all such zealous souls could discover this
wonderful name of God, “The Lord our righteousness,” and would give up at once
and forever seeking to establish their own righteousness, and would submit
themselves to the righteousness of God. The prophet tells us that our own
righteousness, even if we could attain to any, is nothing but filthy rags; and
Paul prays that he may be found in Christ, not having his own righteousness,
which is of the law, but that which is through the faith of Christ, the
righteousness which is of God by faith.
Do we at all comprehend the meaning of this prayer? And
are we prepared to join in it with our whole hearts? If so, our struggle after
righteousness will be over. Jehovah-tsidkenu will supply all our needs.
The name Jehovah-shammah, or “the Lord is there,” was
revealed to the prophet Ezekiel when he was shown by a vision, the twenty-fifth
year of their captivity, what was to be the future home of the children of
Israel. He described the land and the city of Jerusalem, and ended his
description by saying: “And the name of that city shall be called
Jehovah-shammah, or the Lord is there.”
To me this name includes all the others. Wherever the
Lord is, all must go right for His children. Where the good mother is, all goes
right, up to the measure of her ability, for her children. And how much more
God. His presence is enough. We can all remember how the simple presence is
enough. We can all remember how the simple presence of our mothers was enough
for us when we were children. All that we needed of comfort, rest, and
deliverance was insured to us by the mere fact of our mother, as she sat in her
accustomed chair with her work, or her book, or her writing, and we had burst in
upon her with our doleful budget of childish woes. If we could but see that the
presence of God is the same assurance of comfort, and rest, and deliverance,
only infinitely more so, a well-spring of joy would be opened up in our
religious lives that would drive out every vestige of discomfort and
distress.
All through the Old Testament the Lord’s one universal
answer to all the fears and anxieties of the children of Israel was the simple
words, “I will be with thee.” He did not need to say anything more. His presence
was to them a perfect guarantee that all their needs would be supplied; and the
moment they were assured of it, they were no longer afraid to face the fiercest
foe.
You may say, “Ah, yes, if the Lord would only say the
same thing to me, I should not be afraid either.” Well, He has said it, and has
said it in unmistakable terms. When the “angel of the Lord” announced to Joseph
the coming birth of Christ, he said: “They shall call his name Emmanuel; which
being interpreted is, God with us.” In this short sentence is revealed to us the
grandest fact the world can ever know—that God, the Almighty God, the Creator of
Heaven and earth, is not a far-off God, dwelling in a Heaven of unapproachable
glory, but has come down in Christ to dwell with us right here in this world, in
the midst of our poor, ignorant, helpless lives, as close to us as we are to
ourselves. If we believe in Christ at all, we are shut up to believing this, for
this is His name, “God with us.”
Both these names then, Jehovah-shammah and Emmanuel,
mean the same thing. They mean that God is everywhere present in His universe,
surrounding everything, and sustaining everything, and holding all of us in His
safe and blessed keeping. They mean that we can find no place in all His
universe of which it cannot be said, “The Lord is there.” The psalmist says:
“Whither shall I go from thy spirit? And whither shall I flee from thy presence?
If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there; if I make my bed in hell, behold,
thou art there. If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost
parts of the sea, even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall
hold me.”
We cannot drift from the love and care of an
ever-present God. And those Christians who think He has forsaken them, and who
cry out for His presence, are crying out in ignorance of the fact that He is
always and everywhere present with them. In truth they cannot get out of His
presence, even should they try. Oh, that they knew this wonderful and satisfying
name of God!
Speak to Him, thou, for
He hears; and spirit with spirit may meet; Closer is He than breathing, and
nearer than hands and feet.
Let us sum up, once more, the teaching of these five
names of God. What is it they say to us?
Jehovah-jireh, i.e., “I am he who sees thy need, and
therefore provides for it.”
Jehovah-nissi, i.e., “I am the captain, and thy banner,
and he who will fight thy battles for thee.”
Jehovah-shalom, i.e., “I am thy peace. I have made peace
for thee, and my peace I give unto thee.”
Jehovah-tsidkenu, i.e., “I am thy righteousness. In me
thou wilt find all thou needest of wisdom, and righteousness, and
sanctification, and redemption.”
Jehovah-shammah, i.e., “I am with thee. I am thy
ever-present, all-environing God and Saviour. I will never leave thee nor
forsake thee. Wherever thou goest, there I am, and there shall my hand hold
thee, and my right hand lead thee.”
All this is true, whether we know it and recognize it or
not. We may never have dreamed that God was such a God as this, and we may have
gone through our lives thus far starved, and weary, and wretched. But all the
time we have been starving in the midst of plenty. The fullness of God’s
salvation has awaited our faith; and “abundance of grace and of the gift of
righteousness” have awaited our receiving.
Would that I could believe that for some of my readers
all this was ended, and that henceforth they would see that these all-embracing
names of God leave no tiny corner of their need unsupplied. Then would they be
able to testify with the prophet to all around them: “Behold, God is my
salvation: for the Lord Jehovah is my strength and my song; he also is become my
salvation. Therefore with joy shall we draw water out of the wells of
salvation.”