Bible Commentaries
Psalms 131

Verse 2

A HYMN OF HEART’S-EASE

‘My soul is even as a weaned child.’

Psalms 131:2

I. The inward obedience of the heart, the obedience of receiving, the passive, which lies rather in how we take than in what we do, is higher than the active. It is higher because: (1) it is most difficult; (2) it is last always; (3) it is more like Christ.

II. Consider some of the forms of passive obedience.—The acceptance of our salvation. If ever you are to be saved, you must begin by an act of perfectly passive obedience. There will be abundance of the active presently; but that which saves you is faith—a simple acceptance of your pardon, through what Christ has done according to the will and commandment of God. (2) The great sin and loss of most of us is that we do not give a sufficient portion every day to the receptive influences of the Holy Spirit. (3) How much of life is waiting, only waiting, an entirely passive thing! And God generally exercises the passive before He blesses the active. (4) God has His law of disappointment, and many a one who has been an excellent servant in duty has been sadly wanting when he comes to the obedience of failure.

III. To attain to the blessed state of passive obedience, which asks no questions, which serves without the consciousness of its servitude, two things are necessary.—(1) The one is to take grand, honouring views of God. Fill yourself with His majesty and His goodness. (2) Do not measure things. See only His will in sovereignty, His mind in its prescience, His hand in His providence, His tenderness in all His works, His purposes in mercy, for the end is not yet.

—Rev. Jas. Vaughan.

Illustrations

(1) ‘The soul is unquiet. It needs stilling and soothing. Argue with yourself; sing to yourself lullabies of trust and hope; remind yourself of all the blessedness which Jesus promised to the merciful and meek. Above all, wean yourself away from the sources of your own energy, from all that would minister to your self-sufficiency and pride, from all the world’s boasted pomp and power. Weaned from your own ways and schemes and thoughts, hope in God from now and for evermore. He will do for thee more than thou couldst do for thyself.’

(2) ‘After a period of prolonged and painful struggle to have its longings answered, the little one gives over striving any more, and is at peace. That process was a picture to our poet of what passed in his own heart. Like a weaned child, its tears over, its cries hushed, reposing upon the very bosom that a little ago excited its most tumultuous desires, his soul that once passionately strove to wring from God an answer to its eager questionings, now wearied, resigned, and submissive, just lays itself to rest in simple faith on that goodness of God, whose purposes it cannot comprehend, and whose ways often seem to it harsh, and ravelled, and obscure. It is a picture of infinite repose and of touching beauty—the little one nestling close in the mother’s arms, its head reclining trustfully on her shoulder, the tears dried from its now quiet face, and the restful eyes, with just a lingering shadow of bygone sorrow in them still, peering out with a look of utter peace, contentment, and security. It is the peace of accepted pain, the victory of self-surrender.’