I happy, for all around tends to make me blissful, when I can rejoice in the joys of others, and make their gladness my own. Envy! oh! may God deliver us from it! But how, in truth, can we get rid of it so well as by believing that you have something that is not on earth, but in heaven? If we can look upon all the things in the world and say, “As for me, I will behold your face in righteousness; I shall be satisfied by and by!” then we cannot envy other men, because their lot would not be adapted to our peculiar taste. Does the ox envy the lion? No, for it cannot feed upon the carcass. Does the dove grieve because the raven can gloat itself on carrion? No, for it lives on other food. Will the eagle envy the wren for his tiny nest? Oh, no! So the Christian will mount aloft as the eagle, spreading his broad wings, he will fly up to his eyrie among the stars, where God has made him his nest, saying, “As for me, I will dwell here; I look upon the low places of this earth with contempt; I do not envy your greatness, you mighty emperors; I do not desire your fame, you mighty warriors; I do not ask for wealth, oh Croesus; {a} I do not beg for your power, oh Caesar; as for me, I have something else; my portion is the Lord.” The text breathes the spirit of a man free from envy. May God give that to us!
6. Then, secondly, you can see that there is about it the air of a man who is looking into the future. Read the passage thoroughly, and you will see that it all relates to the future; because it says, “As for me, I shall.” It has nothing to do with the present: it does not say, “As for me I do, or I am, So-and-So,” but “As for me, I will behold your face in righteousness; I shall be satisfied, when I awake.” The Psalmist looks beyond the grave into another world; he overlooks the narrow deathbed where he has to sleep, and he says, “When I awake.” How happy is that man who has an eye to the future; even in worldly things we esteem that man who looks beyond the present day; he who spends all his money as it comes in will soon bring himself to rags. He who lives on the present is a fool; but wise men are content to look after future things. When Milton penned his book he might know, perhaps, that he would have little fame in his lifetime; but he said, “I shall be honoured when my head shall sleep in the grave.” Thus have other worthies been content to tarry until time has broken the earthen pitcher, and allowed the lamp to blaze; as for honour, they said, “We will leave that to the future, for that fame which comes late is often most enduring,” and they lived upon the “shall” and fed upon the future. “I shall be satisfied” by and by. So says the Christian. I ask no royal pomp or fame now; I am prepared to wait, I have an interest in my future estate; I do not want a pitiful estate here — I will tarry until I get my domains in heaven, those broad and beautiful domains that God has provided for those who love him. Well content will I be to fold my arms and sit down in the cottage, for I shall have a mansion from God, “a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.” Do any of you know what it is to live on the future — to live on expectation — to live on what you are to have in the next world — to feast yourselves with some of the fruit of the tree of life that fall from heaven — to live upon the manna of expectation which falls in the wilderness, and to drink that stream of nectar which gushes from the throne of God? Have you ever gone to the great Niagara of hope, and drank the spray with ravishing delight; for the very spray of heaven is glory to one’s soul! Have you ever lived on the future, and said, “As for me I shall have something, by and by?” Why, this is the highest motive that can actuate a man. I suppose this was what made Luther so bold, when he stood before his great audience of kings and lords, and said, “I stand by the truth that I have written, and will so stand by it until I die; so help me God!” I think he must have said, “I shall be satisfied by and by; I am not satisfied now, but I shall be soon.” For this the missionary ventures the stormy sea; for this he treads the barbarous shore; for this he goes into inhospitable climes, and risks his life, because he knows there is a payment to come by and by. I sometimes laughingly tell my friends when I receive a favour from them, that I cannot return it, but chalk it up to my Master in heaven, for they shall be satisfied when they awake in his likeness. There are many things that we may never hope to be rewarded for here, but that shall be remembered before the throne hereafter, not of debt, but of grace. Like a poor minister I heard of, who, walking to a rustic chapel to preach, was met by a clergyman who had a far richer berth. He asked the poor man what he expected to have for his preaching. “Well,” he said, “I expect to have a crown.” “Ah!” said the clergyman, “I have not been in the habit of preaching for less than a guinea, anyhow.” “Oh!” said the other, “I am obliged to be content with a crown, and what is more, I do not have my crown now, but I have to wait for that in the future.” The clergyman little thought that he meant the “crown of life that fades not away!” Christian! live on the future; seek nothing here, but expect that you shall shine when you shall come in the likeness of Jesus, with him to be admired, and to kneel before his face adoringly. The Psalmist had an eye to the future.
7. And again, upon this point, you can see that David, at the time he wrote this, was full of faith. The text is fragrant with confidence. “As for me,” says David, no perhaps about it; “I will behold your face in righteousness; I shall be satisfied when I wake in your likeness.” If some men should say so now, they would be called fanatics, and it would be considered presumption for any man to say, “I will behold your face, I shall be satisfied”; and I think there are many now in this world who think it is quite impossible for a man to say for a certainty, “I know, I am sure, I am certain.” But, beloved, there are not one or two, but there are thousands and thousands of God’s people alive in this world who can say with an assured confidence, no more doubting it than their very existence, “I will behold your face in righteousness; I shall be satisfied, when I awake in your likeness.” It is possible, though perhaps not very easy, to attain to that high and eminent position when we can say no longer, do I hope, but I know; no longer do I trust, but I am persuaded; I have a happy confidence; I am sure of it; I am certain; for God has so revealed himself to me that now it is no longer “if” and “perhaps,” but it is positive, eternal, “shall.” “I shall be satisfied when I awake in your likeness.” How many are there here of that sort? Oh! if you are talking like that, you must expect to have trouble, for God never gives strong faith without fiery trial; he will never give a man the power to say that “shall” without trying him; he will not build a strong ship without subjecting it to very mighty storms; he will not make you a mighty warrior, if he does not intend to try your skill in battle. God’s swords must be used; the old Toledo blades of heaven must be smitten against the armour of the evil one, and yet they shall not break, for they are of true Jerusalem metal, which shall never snap. Oh! what a happy thing to have that faith to say “I shall.” Some of you think it quite impossible, I know; but it “is the gift of God,” and whoever asks for it shall obtain it: and the very chief of sinners now present in this place may yet be able to say long before he comes to die, “I shall behold your face in righteousness.” I think I see the aged Christian. He has been very poor. He is in an attic where the stars look between the tiles. There is his bed. His clothes ragged and torn. There are a few sticks on the hearth: they are the last he has. He is sitting up in his chair; his paralytic hand quivers and shakes, and he is evidently near his end. His last meal was eaten yesterday morning; and as you stand and look at him, poor, weak, and feeble, who would desire his lot? But ask him, “Old man, would you change your attic for Caesar’s palace? Aged Christian, would you give up these rags for wealth, and cease to love your God?” See how indignation burns in his eyes at once! He replies, “ ‘As for me, I shall,’ within a few more days, ‘behold his face in righteousness; I shall be satisfied’ soon; here I never shall be. Trouble has been my lot, and trial has been my portion; but I have ‘a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.’ ” Bid high; bid him fair; offer him your hands full of gold; lay all down for him to give up his Christ. “Give up Christ?” he will say, “no, never!”
While my faith can keep her hold,
I envy not the miser’s gold.
8. Oh! what a glorious thing to be full of faith, and to have the confidence of assurance, so as to say, “I will behold your face; I shall be satisfied when I awake with your likeness.”
9.
