By R.C. Chapman
“While the King sitteth at His table, my spikenard sendeth forth the smell thereof.” —Song of Solomon 1:12
Happy Spirits! Ye who banquet above with Jesus, we give you joy! Your joy is ours, and our sweet company when ye quit our company, departing to be with Christ; we also see our Lord’s chariot, sent to bear us home, as it were at our very door! “Tis but an hour or two of waiting; if He come not to receive us to Himself He will compose our body of humiliation to sleep; and pleasant our bed in the grave, while our spirits mount aloft, to join the Lamb and ransomed above.
Thou, Lord, hast proved me by taking to thyself many a lover and friend; but Thou preparest for me a table in the wilderness, Thou anointest me head with oil, my cup runneth over. In the presence of mine enemies, my Lord will have me sit down with Him at His table. Many are they which rise up against me; they would cut me off from meeting with my Lord: in His presence, and at His table, I am more than conqueror.
While by the power of my Lord I keep me there, that evil one toucheth me not. My foolishness and my guiltiness are as a quiver full of sharp arrows in the hand of mine enemy. Pride, unbelief, ignorance, are his sword and spear: my faith cries out, “The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth me from all sin” —1st John 1:7, and the victory is mine. I deny not my debt, but flee to Thee—to Thee, my Lord and Surety! And behold the bond of the Law, the handwriting that was against me, nailed to the cross. In Thee my great strength lies; and, as I hear Thy voice of invitation, of entreaty, Thy voice of power and love, the cords of mine enemies are as green withes—an host flees before me.
—before the presence of my Lord! My apparel, I see, is meet for banqueting house and table—the robe of righteousness; the garments of salvation! I am melted and self-abased as I enter and sit down. Thou, Lord, dost gird Thyself and serve me! Thy flesh is meat indeed, Thy blood is drink indeed; and Thou fillest my soul with joy unspeakable and full of glory! Access to Thee, my Lord, emboldens me; for Thou hast all to give, and no heart to withhold aught that is good—and Thou art well pleased with my confidence. Thou holdest forth the golden scepter, and sayest, What is Thy request? I answer, “Lord, that I may behold Thy beauty, sit at Thy feet, and banquet with Thee.” So shall my lowly, contrite spirit be spikenard, fragrant and precious to my Lord.