The Apostle, as he adds note after note in his inspired
Song, and specially as the Song advances, seems desirous of proclaiming with
deepening cadence the PRIVILEGES which belong to the believer in Christ.
In our last meditation he had described Hope and
her sister-spirit Patience, as graces in the Christian's
possession--invigorating, quickening influences--the one inspiring the
other. He now speaks of a new sustaining power of religion--a superhuman
element of strength, consolation, and endurance, enjoyed by "the heirs of
God and joint-heirs with Christ." He introduces it by the word "Likewise"
("in addition"--"in the same way"), "also, the Spirit helps our
infirmities."
This last word seems indeed, at first, rather to indicate
a note of discord. But it is only a passing jar in the divine music,
leading, as it does, to the contemplation of the special consolatory agency
now to be unfolded. That agency was incidentally brought before us in more
than one preceding verse; but it here rises to a climax. If we have for the
moment suggested the Harp unstrung, it is only to be immediately assured of
restored harmonies.
"And the Holy Spirit helps us in our distress (or
infirmities). For we don't even know what we should pray for, nor how we
should pray. But the Holy Spirit prays for us with groanings that cannot be
expressed in words. And the Father who knows all hearts knows what the
Spirit is saying, for the Spirit pleads for us believers in harmony with
God's own will." Romans 8:26-27
"Infirmities"--these are not unfamiliar to us in the
preceding portion of this volume. They are, so far at least, an equivalent
for "the things of the flesh,"--"the carnal mind,"--"the deeds of the
body,"--the outcome of the sin-tainted, unrenewed, unregenerate nature.
"Infirmities"--"compassed with infirmities," we have previously seen, is the
too truthful description of God's people in all ages--that the very heroes
of sacred story bear sad attestation to the evil heart of unbelief--the
fickleness of the noblest purposes. We have recorded episodes in their
lives, of defeat, and cowardice--temporary, but at the time disastrous and
humiliating. The warning bell sounds, in deepening tones, "Take heed,
brethren, lest there be in any of you an evil heart of unbelief, in
departing from the living God" (Heb. 3;12).
It is one of the most mournful memories of the ancient
Christian Church--the age of all others when love and loyalty might be
expected to have been strongest--that there was a traitor in the apostolic
band, and two convicted liars and perjurers in the earliest membership. If
these "pledge-sheaves" of the ripe grain--what are called in a preceding
verse "the first fruits of the Spirit," were laid thus mildewed on the newly
consecrated altar, can we wonder that in the Church of later times (or, what
is truer and sadder, in our own individual souls), there should be the taint
and blight of often "infirmity,"--weariness, faint-heartedness--the
successful power of besetting sins--worldly fascinations--overmastering
temptations--all drags and hindrances in running the pilgrim race--not to
speak of overt acts of fouler transgression and wrong-doing, that bring a
tear to the eye and a pang to the heart.
Frequently these infirmities are the result of
physical causes--the suffering body has its cruel revenge on the
depressed soul. But the suffering is on that account none the less real. The
prolonged gloom of the sick-chamber induces and aggravates the darkness of
the mind--fostering morbid thoughts--injecting "devil-born
doubts,"--murmurings at the divine dispensations--impeachments of the divine
veracity and love--"If the Lord is with us, why has all this befallen us?"
Oh, who is there among us who fails to plead guilty?--Who, confronted with
the past--each with his or her own dominant sin and frailty, is not ready to
take up the words of Asaph in that Psalm of his, so true to the deeper
consciousness of fallen humanity--"This is my infirmity!" (Ps. 73.).
There is a great--a divine Helper here disclosed. THE
SPIRIT--the Comforter--the Paraclete--the Heavenly Agent whose coming and
"power from on high" is represented by the divine Savior Himself, as more
than compensating the Church for His own absence--"If I go not away the
Comforter will not come unto you; but if I depart I will send Him unto you."
The Gospel age--the age of the Incarnation--was melted and merged into what
is familiarly known as "the dispensation of the Spirit." Among the manifold
blessings, of which He was to be the dispenser, one was conspicuous--that of
being the Bearer of His Church's and His people's infirmities; imparting to
burdened souls needed grace; and perfecting strength in weakness.
These infirmities are far beyond catalogue or
enumeration. Paul in our present verses selects one, as a sample of the
rest--one he knows to be of universal incidence and application--one that
has been endorsed and countersigned by every child of God--from the
struggle-hour of old by the brook Jabbok--the wrestling of spirit with
spirit all through the gloom of that eastern night, until the sun broke on
the desert horizon--on to his own times and experience; for, champion as he
was, his personal failings and frailties are here included. "OUR
infirmities." "WE know not." "Intercession FOR US."
The illustrative instance adduced, is as applicable to
the Christendom and Britain of today, as to patriarchal or apostolic age.
Who has not felt it?--the weakness--the poverty--shall I call it the
Paralysis of Prayer--the aimless wandering of thought, the frigidity of
faith--the stammering sentences, the feeble nerveless grasp of the divine
promises; the unrealized verities of heaven and the soul, of spiritual and
eternal things! Not only so, but baffled and perplexed with the very
subjects of prayer; petitions we know not whether they be wise or
unwise--the fearfulness of asking what may not be in harmony with the mind
of God; the mental reservations, when seeking, or professing, to resolve our
wills into His--"The prayers (in accordance with an old writer) that would
need to be prayed for; the confessions of sin that would need themselves to
be confessed;"--"We know not what we should pray for as we ought."
What a comfort the assurance, that amid these frailties
and perplexities there is a great, all-wise, omnipotent Helper at our side,
who can enter into our infirmities--participate in them--make allowance for
them--extricate us from them. "Helps;" the word literally applies to aiding
and assisting one under a burden; taking part in giving support when the
burden-bearer is too weak to carry his load alone--while the other
expression, rendered here "makes intercession," occurs nowhere else in the
Greek Testament. The Romans, to whom the Apostle now wrote, would understand
well the reference to the "Advocate" at the Bar or in the
Basilica-court--the Instructor of their clients in legal difficulties;
making needful suggestions in the conduct of each case. It is indeed a
wondrous picture that is here brought before us.
We are familiar with a kindred truth, the intercession of
our divine Redeemer and Savior. "He ever lives to make intercession for us."
Whether in the sanctuary or the closet, He lets down His censer full of much
incense, that therein we may place our polluted and unworthy prayers, to be
perfumed with the incense of His adorable merits. No, not only so. There is
a peculiarly consolatory feature in His mediation at His Father's right
hand; that being Himself the Brother-man, He can enter with tenderness
into the frailty and imperfection of our supplications, having been Himself
"compassed with infirmity." As if, however, to complete this divine
provision, we have here unfolded to us an Intercessor--not on the distant
throne--the upper sanctuary of heaven--but "present"--"ever present with
us," in the Temple--the Sanctuary of the soul on earth. It is an amazing
boon, in accordance with the Savior's own word and promise, "I will ask the
Father, and He shall give you another (Advocate), who will abide with you
forever; even the Spirit of truth" (John 14;16, 17). Whether we kneel at our
bedside in the quiet of the chamber--or bow in the midst of "the Great
Congregation"--there is an ineffable PRESENCE by us--close to us--dictating
or guiding our thoughts, stimulating our desires, inspiring our lips,
"helping our infirmities," fetching the live coal from off the heavenly
altar--"the Spirit of light and the Spirit of burning." Thus have we--as
frail petitioners--needy suppliants, a double advocacy--the Advocate passed
into the heavens, and the Advocate in the lower Court of the Church below.
Christ interceding above; and the Holy Spirit interceding within.
And note that His presence is here specially promised to
His people in their exigencies. He makes intercession for them, when theirs
are "groanings which cannot be uttered;" or rather, groanings that
are "not uttered." When they are pleading with strong crying and tears--when
the lip fails the heart--when all is speechless, inarticulate--then the
needed aid is supplied, and He pleads for those who cannot plead for
themselves!
The day would come, when at least the children of these
Romans would comprehend and appreciate the reality of this supernatural
support, in sufferings, which, with the exception of those at the fall of
Jerusalem, have had no parallel since the world began. When the cry "to
the lions!" would be heard bursting from ten thousand lips in the
Amphitheater, a mighty unseen PRESENCE would be given to these hapless
victims, and inspire them with heroism not their own. The great painters
have introduced angels bending over the Colosseum martyrs with crowns of
gold and wreaths of palm. But mightier would be the ministration of strength
revealed in the words before us, when with filming eyes uplifted beyond the
horrors of the present; to a painless, deathless world, they would be able
to testify, "The Spirit helps our infirmities." "Your Spirit, O God,
is good; lead us to the land of uprightness!"
But we do not require to go to the arena and its martyrs
to know and understand the realities of this divine support and sustaining
force. Every subject of severe trial can bear corresponding witness; in the
hour of overwhelming affliction, and specially that of lacerating
bereavement. At other times, and in the ordinary circumstances of life, much
of what we have just said might appear mystical, the devout phantasy of
devotees and enthusiasts. We concede that the theme which has engaged us is
undoubtedly a deep and mysterious one. It baffles interpretation, transcends
comprehension. We cannot fully understand it. We must kneel and adore! But,
I repeat, there is one occasion when it becomes a profound reality. It is
the season of that deepest of trials when the spirit knows too well what is
meant by inarticulate groanings of anguish. When life's dreams of joy have
vanished like the flash of summer lightnings, and we are left to brood over
a past, the memories of which are all that remain. Was there no mysterious
Helper who at that hour, not with the often noisy babble and gush of earthly
comforters, but like the quiet dew or gentle rain, in a mystery of divine
silence, drew near to us, spoke to us, consoled, relieved us of the burden,
sustained, strengthened us; aye, and in accordance with Paul's own word
here, interceded for us; curbed despairing thoughts, invested God's
promises with new meaning, brightened the future with glorious hope; put
prayers and breathings of submission into dumb lips; forcing us to say in
the divine human words of the mighty Sympathizer, "Somebody has
touched me!" (Luke 8;46).
The Spirit of God has been brooding over us in our chaos
of darkness. Oh, it is more than Jacob's vision of Bethel angels. There
seems a new beauty and meaning in the utterance of the same patriarch,
spoken figuratively in our case, with affliction's stony pillow and the sun
of life setting--"This is none other than the house of God, and this is the
gate of heaven!"
I can only add, in one sentence, that this "helping of
individual infirmities" by the Holy Spirit, has often and again had its
wider, more potent and startling illustration, in the Church collectively,
from the early outpouring at Pentecost, to the aid, amid manifold
infirmities, so conspicuously displayed at the era of the Reformation; when
the groanings and travailings of burdened souls had their outcome in "the
liberty of the glory of the sons of God." The day of Pentecost presented
alike the first and the most signal--an irresistible testimony to this
"power of the Holy Spirit," as a Spirit of intercession. We see the effects
of that divine influence on the whole company then met "for prayer
and supplication." On none more so, than their acknowledged leader. Peter is
not the same man after that hour that he was before. His vacillation,
timidity, rashness, cowardice are gone. "Out of weakness he has been made
strong." And if you ask himself the reason, he will be ready with the reply,
"The Spirit also helps our infirmities."
The divine picture we have given is completed by a yet
further revelation in the succeeding verse; "And the Father who knows all
hearts knows what the Spirit is saying, for the Spirit pleads for us
believers in harmony with God's own will." (verse 27). We have thus the
divine Trinity in unity encompassing each believer as with a shield. We have
spoken of the pleading Son and the interceding Spirit. Here we have the
divine Father, the "Searcher of hearts," interpreting through the Spirit the
longings and groanings of His praying and afflicted people. It is the Three
in One in covenant for our redemption; all securing that the petitions of
the human supplicant are accepted and answered, because they are
"according to the will of God." Father, Son, and Holy Spirit seem to
draw near to every child and every place of prayer saying--"I will be to
them a little sanctuary."
O Interceding Spirit! come, in all the plenitude of Your
gifts and graces! "Awake, O north wind; and come, O south wind; blow upon my
garden, that the spices thereof may flow out. Let my Beloved come into his
garden, and eat his pleasant fruits" (Solomon's Song, 4;16). Breathe upon me
and say, "Receive the Holy Spirit!" Strengthen me in feebleness! Endue me
with power from on high! Fulfill the promise, "You shall be baptized with
the Holy Spirit and with fire." I feel Your potency in every prayer that
ascends from my lips acknowledging the need of the Apostle's counsel and
safeguard--"Praying always with all prayer and supplication in the Spirit,
and watching thereunto" (Eph. 6;18). "It is the Spirit who quickens." By Him
I am "chosen to salvation" (1 Thess. 2;13). By Him I am "strengthened with
might in the inner man" (Eph. 3;16). By Him my prayers and petitions are
assimilated to the divine will. What is averred, by the beloved disciple, of
the Second Person in the Trinity may be equally applied to the Third--"And
this is the confidence that we have in Him, that, if we ask any thing
according to His will, He hears us" (1 John 5;14).
To recur, in closing, to the thought with which we set
out; If, at times, humbled and saddened at the imperfection of our
approaches to the throne, be this our comfort, that the great Searcher will
make allowance, "because of the infirmity of our flesh," for poverty of
language, verbal shortcomings, inarticulate yearnings, sighs and groans. He
says to us, as He said to His servant David--"Forasmuch as it was in your
heart to build an house for My name, you did well in that it was in your
heart" (2 Chron. 6;8). "You understand my thoughts afar off"
(Ps. 139;2). "The work," says Archbishop Leighton in his "Exposition of the
Lord's Prayer"--"The work of the Spirit is, in exciting the heart at times
to prayer, to break forth in ardent desires to God, whatever the words be,
whether new or old, yes possibly without words; and then most powerful when
words are least, but vents in sighs and groans that cannot be expressed. Our
Lord understands the language of these perfectly, and likes it best; He
knows and approves the meaning of His own Spirit; He looks not to the
outward appearance, the shell of words as men do."
May the gracious indwelling Spirit pardon my frequent
infirmities, unseal my closed lips, attune my stammering tongue! My mouth is
silent and my heart silent too, without His inspiration. I need His divine
teachings in order to have revealed to me the beauties of holiness. A
Sonata of Beethoven is unintelligible to the man destitute of the inner
ear for music--the sweetest chords of harmony are to him a crash of
discords. But You, Inspirer of all good thoughts, You can, You do awaken the
soul to these higher, diviner melodies. Yes, if I am myself, through lack of
words, speechless at the Mercy-Seat--Come, Dove of Peace! lift my poor
petition on the wing of Your mighty intercession, and ensure a response to
the Voiceless Prayer,
"My Father! in Your mercy kind,
You have redeemed those moods of mind
Wherein no utterance I can find
To bear my sigh;
For in my heart deep shades there be
Where Your fair form I cannot see,
Nor tell of anything that ails me–
Save by a cry.
Moments there are wherein my soul
Finds nameless billows round it roll,
And sees no power that can control
Their pathless way–
It knows not what to ask; nor whom;
It has no outward cause for gloom;
It holds itself within its tomb;
It cannot pray.
And yet, Your blessed Word doth teach
That even its groanings without speech
Into a Father's heart can reach
And nestle there.
You count my unspoken sighs;
You hear all my wordless cries,
And send Your divine replies--
As answered prayer.
Like Him who in His human years
Poured out with speechless cries and tears
The record of His unnamed fears,
And found release–
Even so, the fainting of my heart
That cannot its request impart,
Has brought me near to where You art,
And promised peace."
(Matheson's "Sacred Songs.")