Psalms 4:4

Psalms 4:4

(with Psalms 24:3-4 )

This text addresses itself to every single, solitary person, in the most solitary, silent time, when his day's work is ended and he is going to sleep. David could not have said a better word to any of us than this: "Commune with your own heart upon your bed, and be still."

I. It is not bodily stillness alone; that is compelled. If it were not for sleep that is, the bodily silence we should all go mad. There comes a silence every now and then, and God makes it just to give Himself a chance of speaking.

II. If we do not do the will of God in the day, it is not likely that we will be still upon our beds that He may come and visit us. The true temple and the true worship is an every-day-of-the-week worship. That is what our Lord would have. We were not meant to be creatures of feeling; we were meant to be creatures of conscience first of all, and then of conscience towards God, a sense of His presence; and if we go on, our feelings will blossom as a rose from the very necessity of things. The one eternal, original, infinite blessing of the human soul is when in stillness the Father comes and says, "My child, I am here."

G. Macdonald, Christian World Pulpit, vol. xxii., p. 257.

I. Consider, first, the nature of godly meditation, regarded as a distinct exercise of our practical Christianity. We must not identify the exercise with religious contemplation, that higher form of intellectual homage which the mind, when elevated above the level of earthly things, pays to the wisdom of God; neither is meditation to be confounded with the exercise of reading, even though it be thoughtful, prayerful, scriptural reading. We must also distinguish it from the ordinary act of prayer. Godly meditation is the soul's soliloquy; it is the heart rehearsing to itself what shall be the manner of its appearing before God, and what it shall say. It is not so much a religious act in itself as a preparation for all other religious acts. It prepares for holy communion by accustoming the mind to the deeper and calmer forms of fellowship with God.

II. Notice some practical directions in relation to this holy exercise. It is clear that meditation is not an act to be learned, but a habit to be formed. We must attain to expertness in it, not by the observance of artificial rules so much as by diligent and persevering practice. (1) David intimates to us the desirableness of securing an outward solemnity and seriousness in this exercise, entire seclusion from all human friendships, the hushing of all voices, both from within and from without, that we may be quite alone with God. (2) A close self-scrutiny is also enjoined in the text: "Commune with your own heart." We have much to speak to our hearts about: our mercies, our sins, our work. These thoughts demand retirement, a coming by ourselves apart, a calm trial of our own spirits in the presence of the Father of spirits; in a word, they demand a set and deliberate compliance with the exhortation of the Psalmist, "Commune with your own heart, and in your chamber, and be still."

D. Moore, Penny Pulpit, No. 3,171.

John Baptist was almost as unlike a Jew of his own day as he is unlike us. Though not unexampled, his hermit life, his dress, his food, his abode, were of course utterly discrepant from city life or village life in any age. His position as a boy and a young man was utterly lonely; he is not merely a prophet of God, marked as that position would have been: John is always called a messenger, one who has more to do with Him from whom he comes.

I. In this country and in this age of the world, circumstances seem to force every single person into conditions to which John's life has no kind of relation, and to except none. It is the very idea of modern life that every one is to influence and be influenced by every one. Our very intellectual education has taken the turn of excluding originality, but far more so our social and moral education. And here we approach the great difficulty, that in all this education we tend to reduce principles, religious and moral principles, to the level and standard of the mass.

II. What then is the remedy? How shall we at once gain the great good of public life for the many and yet not make all life a mere sacrifice to the third-rate? The lessons of the life of John Baptist seem to have some bearing on this question. He was indeed original and independent, and dwelt "communing with the skies." Yet he loved the people well, and the people loved him. The contentment of private soldiers, and the honesty of tax-gatherers, and quiet consciences for ordinary people, and liberality towards each other these were the things in which he took an interest. So in all places and times ought higher minds and souls to care for the simple duties and happinesses of those who surround them, while for themselves they eschew the world and live to God.

III. St. John gained his power in the use which he made of lonely hours. In retirement he gained clear views and he gained courage. It might be absurd for any one nowadays to go to a mountain or to a river to seek or to teach wisdom; but it is not absurd to make retirement, and real thought, and prayer a steady part of our life. Our Lord did not contemplate wildernesses for people of the towns, but He did often speak to them about praying in their own little rooms with closed doors. Original thought is the only power which rules others. Use yourselves therefore not to live always in a din, not always in a turmoil; let not your character be made up of endless patchwork fragments of the thoughts, the opinions, the feelings, which you have caught from others.

Archbishop Benson, Boy Life: Sundays in Wellington College, p. 60.

References: Psalms 4:4 . E. Garbett, The Soul's Life, p. 1; W. M. Statham, Christian World Pulpit, vol. xix., p. 377.