Why was Christ chosen out of the people? Speak, my heart, for heart-thoughts are best. Was
it not that He might be able to be our brother, in the blest tie of kindred blood? Oh, what
relationship there is between Christ and the believer! The believer can say, "I have a Brother
in heaven; I may be poor, but I have a Brother who is rich, and is a King, and will He suffer
me to want while He is on His throne? Oh, no! He loves me; He is my Brother." Believer,
wear this blessed thought, like a necklace of diamonds, around the neck of thy memory; put
it, as a golden ring, on the finger of recollection, and use it as the King's own seal, stamping
the petitions of thy faith with confidence of success. He is a brother born for adversity, treat
Him as such.
Christ was also chosen out of the people that He might know our wants and sympathize with
us. "He was tempted in all points like as we are, yet without sin." In all our sorrows we have
His sympathy. Temptation, pain, disappointment, weakness, weariness, poverty--He knows
them all, for He has felt all. Remember this, Christian, and let it comfort thee. However
difficult and painful thy road, it is marked by the footsteps of thy Saviour; and even when
thou reachest the dark valley of the shadow of death, and the deep waters of the swelling
Jordan, thou wilt find His footprints there. In all places whithersoever we go, He has been our
forerunner; each burden we have to carry, has once been laid on the shoulders of Immanuel.
"His way was much rougher and darker than mine
Did Christ, my Lord, suffer, and shall I repine?"
Take courage! Royal feet have left a blood-red track upon the road, and consecrated the
thorny path for ever.
"Surely he shall deliver thee from the snare of the fowler." --Psalm 91:3
God delivers His people from the snare of the fowler in two senses. From, and out of. First,
He delivers them from the snare--does not let them enter it; and secondly, if they should be
caught therein, He delivers them out of it. The first promise is the most precious to some; the
second is the best to others.
"He shall deliver thee from the snare." How? Trouble is often the means whereby God
delivers us. God knows that our backsliding will soon end in our destruction, and He in
mercy sends the rod. We say, "Lord, why is this?" not knowing that our trouble has been the
means of delivering us from far greater evil. Many have been thus saved from ruin by their
sorrows and their crosses; these have frightened the birds from the net. At other times, God
keeps His people from the snare of the fowler by giving them great spiritual strength, so that
when they are tempted to do evil they say, "How can I do this great wickedness, and sin
against God?" But what a blessed thing it is that if the believer shall, in an evil hour, come
into the net, yet God will bring him out of it! O backslider, be cast down, but do not despair.
Wanderer though thou hast been, hear what thy Redeemer saith--"Return, O backsliding
children; I will have mercy upon you." But you say you cannot return, for you are a captive.
Then listen to the promise--"Surely He shall deliver thee out of the snare of the fowler." Thou
shalt yet be brought out of all evil into which thou hast fallen, and though thou shalt never
cease to repent of thy ways, yet He that hath loved thee will not cast thee away; He will
receive thee, and give thee joy and gladness, that the bones which He has broken may rejoice.
No bird of paradise shall die in the fowler's net.
"I will mention the lovingkindnesses of the Lord, and the praises of the Lord, according to all
that the Lord hath bestowed on us." --Isaiah 63:7
And canst thou not do this? Are there no mercies which thou hast experienced? What though
thou art gloomy now, canst thou forget that blessed hour when Jesus met thee, and said,
"Come unto me"? Canst thou not remember that rapturous moment when He snapped thy
fetters, dashed thy chains to the earth, and said, "I came to break thy bonds and set thee free"?
Or if the love of thine espousals be forgotten, there must surely be some precious milestone
along the road of life not quite grown over with moss, on which thou canst read a happy
memorial of His mercy towards thee? What, didst thou never have a sickness like that which
thou art suffering now, and did He not restore thee? Wert thou never poor before, and did He
not supply thy wants? Wast thou never in straits before, and did He not deliver thee? Arise,
go to the river of thine experience, and pull up a few bulrushes, and plait them into an ark,
wherein thine infant- faith may float safely on the stream. Forget not what thy God has done
for thee; turn over the book of thy remembrance, and consider the days of old. Canst thou not
remember the hill Mizar? Did the Lord never meet with thee at Hermon? Hast thou never
climbed the Delectable Mountains? Hast thou never been helped in time of need? Nay, I
know thou hast. Go back, then, a little way to the choice mercies of yesterday, and though all
may be dark now, light up the lamps of the past, they shall glitter through the darkness, and
thou shalt trust in the Lord till the day break and the shadows flee away. "Remember, O Lord,
thy tender mercies and thy lovingkindnesses, for they have been ever of old."