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Christ in His Garden

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Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Dec 2, 1873

FromReview and Herald, Vol. 42, No. 25.

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Christ in His Garden.

By F. E. Clarke

The relation of Christ to his church is exquisitely imagined in the song of Solomon: “I am come into my garden, my sister, my spouse.” An early walk among the flowers and fruits helps the imagination in its grasp of its highest spiritual truths. When the sun is beginning to pour its glory abroad, when dew-drops glisten upon fragrant blossoms, when birds are breaking the stillness of the morning, it is easy to conceive
“How all of brightest, best we see, Must shadows of the heavenly be; How the blue dawn and morning’s glow And the vast sunset’s fiery show, Soft, pearly moon and stars of night, Are shadows of the heavenly light; How all the sweetest sounds of earth, Music of winds, birds, infants’ mirth, Anthems that float church aisles along, Are shadows of the heavenly song.”
As the sun rises upon the garden, every leaf and tiny flower, every plant and blossom, turns to kiss his rays, and to welcome his coming. So the church, Christ’s garden, turns, in heartfelt longing, toward the light of her Master’s countenance.
Who has not wondered at the mysterious sympathy which exists between the sunlight and every green thing depending upon that light? Who shall describe to us the yearning of soul with which Christ’s members long for his coming? Listen! how that weary soul cries to the north wind to revive its vigor, to lift up its faith, that it may come to Jesus for rest! That drooping soul, alas! which with so little love gives forth so little fragrance, cries to the south wind to breathe on it, that its spices may flow out, and that Jesus may delight in it once more. That fruitless soul for which Christ has done so much, on which he has lavished so many mercies, but for which he has made such poor return—how that soul cries for the breath of God to quicken its life and make it fruitful!
The voices of beauty in the garden are inaudible, and yet they penetrate our sensitive nature. So are the longings of unsatisfied souls inaudible, indeed, to human ears; often inarticulate toward God; but Jesus can hear them. He has said, “Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they shall be filled.” If any voice sounds sweet in the Master’s ear, it is the cry of longing souls for the presence and joy of their Lord. What music in his ear is that subdued petition, “Let my Beloved come into his garden, and eat his pleasant fruit!” For this is as the turning of plants toward the sun in which they live. This is the up-looking of hearts which can be satisfied only with the Saviour’s love. Does the disciple mourn that Christ seems so far away, and that he enjoys so little the fragrance of his graces? Let him be thankful for that divine presence which is disclosed in these very yearnings—this is the touch of Christ’s own hand, the beginning of the joy which that soul supremely craves.
For, lo! the instant response of Christ to the prayer of the longing soul: “I am come into my garden, my sister, my spouse.”
Every tender heart is touched with this fact, for it is a literal fact that Jesus comes instantly into the heart which really longs for him. Does the church moan in her solitude, and say, through her tears of penitence, “Let my Beloved come?” At once the answer is heard, “I am come, my sister, and my spouse.” Does the church grieve over her unfruitfulness, and cry to God that spices may flow out, that her withered graces may again refresh her Lord? So, at once, the gracious response, “I am gathering my myrrh with my spices; I am eating, I am drinking; my joy is fulfilled.” Does the church look with heavy heart upon the careless ones who mingle in her assemblies, and does she travail in birth for her unconverted children? So, at once, the salvation of God, the voice of inquiry for Christ, and the joy of the new-born souls, the moment the church desires souls more than she desires any other gift. Impenitent men are all around us, and they will be converted any time when Christians live, labor, and pray, for it with zeal and earnestness. At once, upon seeing that there is room for him, Jesus comes; at once, upon seeing faith enough to make salvation possible, Christ begins to pour the joy of salvation upon the church. Christ is infinitely concerned to refresh, enlarge, adorn, and bless, the church, for the church is his own body. Christ desires to walk in his garden, and to refresh himself there—for all his joys are in her. All his plans of redemption are centered in the church. All his interest in the affairs of the world is limited by the relation of these affairs to his church. What men struggle for, live for, die for,—all earth’s gains, promotions, and successes, are not worth the ink which records them, except as they touch and influence the church. No language can exaggerate this truth, no imagination can approach its measurement—that Christ has no joy like the joy of his people. The salvation of his elect is the travail of his soul. When this is accomplished, he will be satisfied—never before.
What a stimulus is this to our zeal, what a reward to our faith! So Jesus comes at thy bidding, humble disciple. He comes into thy love. He comes full of gladness, walking amidst the bowers of thy revived affections, gathering spices, smelling the fragrance of every grace—eating, drinking, and supping, with you; and in the joy of this present communion, giving you a sacrament and pledge of the joys which he will share with you in his kingdom above.
Will you not then so live as constantly to welcome Christ into the garden of your soul, that both he and you may rejoice in the fragrance of your graces?—Rev. F. E. Clarke.