In the preceding strains of this Song of Songs, we have 
    been listening to deep-sea music. Now the billows are resonant on the 
    Eternal Shore!
    
    "Christ Jesus our Lord." These are the four words 
    which end our chapter, the closing note of Paul's Golden Canticle; a 
    reigning Christ in the midst of His ransomed Church--"Hallelujah…He shall 
    reign forever and ever."
    
    "Christ Jesus our Lord!"--Befitting finale for the 
    Song of the Redeemed on earth--befitting refrain for the Anthem of the 
    Church glorified--"Strong Son of God, Immortal Love!"
    The "No condemnation in Christ," has now reached 
    its climax in "No separation from Christ." With these concluding 
    strains, the outcome of all that have preceded, he defies the confederate 
    forces of the material and spiritual Creation--the foes of "a present evil 
    world,"--the principalities and powers of heaven and hell; the heights 
    above, the depths beneath--all space, all time, all eternity, to hush that 
    everlasting chorus and separate from that everlasting love!
    
    "In Christ Jesus." "Is this," says Leighton, "he that 
    so lately cried out, 'O wretched man that I am, who shall deliver me?' who 
    now triumphs 'O happy man, who shall separate me from the love of Christ?' 
    Now he has found a deliverer to whom he is forever united. So vast a 
    difference is there between a Christian taken in himself and in 
    Christ." The author of The Christian Year--adopting the figure of our 
    volume, thus appropriately sings of the Apostle ever after the hour of his 
    conversion--
    "From then, each mild and winning note 
    (Like pulses that round harp-strings float
    When the full strain is over),
    Left lingering in his inward ear 
    Music that taught as death drew near,
    Love's lesson, more and more."
    Let us give the words now to be considered in full.
    
    "For I am persuaded that neither death, nor life, nor 
    angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to 
    come; nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to 
    separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord" (v. 
    38--39)
    These successive clauses, to vary the metaphor, are like 
    so many perches in the writer's upward flight, as with the eagle-wing of his 
    brother Apostle of love he soars to the seventh heaven, and sinks into the 
    clefts of the true Rock for ever!
    
    "Christ Jesus our Lord." Yes, but neither may the 
    terminating words be dissevered from those which precede them. It is the 
    combination which makes a full Gospel-harmony. They form a divine epigram of 
    comfort and consolation--"the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our 
    Lord." The love of the Father is here co-ordinated with the love of the 
    Son. It is the apostolic echo of the Great Master's own saying--the saying 
    which of all He uttered was most descriptive of His mission; the saying 
    which perhaps of all He uttered we would be the most loath to part 
    with--"God so loved the world, as to give His only Begotten Son."
    We have presented to us in this brief sentence of our 
    concluding meditation not only the stream of Salvation in Christ, but we are 
    conducted to the fountainhead in the Infinite love and sovereign grace of 
    the First Person in the Blessed Trinity. In the original that love is 
    emphasized--the special love. In the previous portion of his Epistle, 
    what we may call its forensic or dialectic chapters, Paul had of necessity 
    to vindicate the character of God in His dealings with sinners, as the 
    Righteous, the Holy, the Just--the Moral Governor, whose laws dare not be 
    violated with impunity. But here, after the sublime unfolding of Redemption, 
    he singles out, for his terminating note of triumph, the attribute which 
    spans the life of every believer like a divine rainbow, from his 
    predestination to his glorification. He had immediately before sounded the 
    defiant note--"Who shall separate?" There seems to be a momentary hush. He 
    waits, so to speak, to hear if a response be given. There is no reply. The 
    silence is broken by an answer from his own lips. The answer declares 
    separation to be impossible--that nothing can frustrate God's purpose, or 
    alter His affection for His Church and people. With Him, in the outgoings of 
    that love, "tomorrow will be as today, and much more abundant." The flower 
    of grace, here often battered with wind and rain, shall never cease to bloom 
    in heaven. The great ocean-tide will then roll on without ebb "through the 
    ages of the ages."
    But let us enter the arena and listen to our 
    Apostle-herald as he sounds his challenges, and utters his assertions, in 
    succession.
    
    "DEATH shall not separate." Alas, in one sense, too 
    sadly, too truly, Death does separate. Too sadly, too truly, is Death 
    the severer of bonds. The very name is allied and associated with pain, 
    suffering, dissolution. There is one inscription common to all ages and 
    generations--"They were not allowed to continue by reason of death." The 
    world is full, day by day, of aching hearts. Long and loud is the wailing 
    strain--the dirge over buried love! Those are not to be credited with 
    sincerity, or with the tenderest instincts of humanity, who affect to speak 
    lightly of such severances. The cold icy river seems to cut us off at once 
    from the land of love--the love of earth and the love of heaven. But, in 
    another and elevated sense, the sense inspired by gospel faith, there is no 
    absolute separation in the case of those united to Christ. Our life is "hid 
    with Christ in God." "It is He alone," says Pere Didon, at the close of the 
    Introduction to his great Work, "who pours into the soul a divine life which 
    no pain can overwhelm, which trial only strengthens, and which can despise 
    death, because it permits us to face it with the fullness of immortal hope."
    
    To the true Believer, the Gate of Death is the Gate to 
    the second Paradise. It is the Exodus of the Soul from its bondage--the 
    entrance into the beatific vision--the fullness of God. Death is pictured to 
    our thoughts under the Bible figure of a lonely Valley. Nor is it strange 
    that the idea of solitude and solitariness should be blended with the 
    emblem. But there can be no real solitude to him who can sing at his 
    death bed--"YOU are with me; Your rod and Your staff they comfort me." 
    In the words of a sainted and saintly writer "Death is a leap into the arms 
    of Infinite love." So far from being the separator from God, it is the 
    "Beautiful Angel" who leads home to Himself. Then shall come to pass the 
    saying that is written--"Death is swallowed up in Victory." "Right dear in 
    the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints" (Ps. 116;15, Prayer Book 
    Version).
    
    "LIFE shall not separate." Life, with its vivid 
    realities and engrossing interests, and enthralling fascinations on the one 
    hand; Life with its depressing cares and anxious struggles--its gnawing 
    heartaches and bitter bereavements on the other; Life with its April day of 
    fitful alternation--cloud and sunshine, shall not blur the "Summer of the 
    Soul" and dim the divine--the Eternal sunshine. The Christian engaged in its 
    urgent duties--grappling with its stern difficulties and fiery trials, 
    feeling that he is "appointed thereunto," has truly his citizenship in 
    heaven. His heart and home are in one sense on earth; in an equally 
    truthful, more exalted sense, he can sing as the chartered citizen of 
    glory--"Who has raised us up together, and made us sit together in heavenly 
    places in Christ." "Whether we live we live unto the Lord; or whether we die 
    we die unto the Lord; whether we live therefore or die we are the Lord's" 
    (Rom. 14;8).
    
    "ANGELS, PRINCIPALITIES AND POWERS shall not separate." 
    Not Angels--the living creatures with whom alike poetry and Scripture 
    have made this earth to teem "both while we sleep and while we wake." It is 
    the most impossible of impossible things, that a loyal heaven shall conspire 
    in strange league of hostility against the children of the kingdom. The 
    Apostle here makes the unlikeliest of suppositions, simply to strengthen the 
    believer's confidence. Not demons--not the host of heaven and hell 
    combined in gigantic conspiracy against the believer's peace. Persecutors 
    and persecutions--the base abettors of cruelty and wrong-doing 
    who did their utmost in the Apostle's time, and would do their utmost still, 
    to deflect from the path of allegiance to the Gospel; tempting to abjure 
    faith, instilling doubts, and lording it over conscience. These are the 
    "Spiritual 'wickednesses' in high places," led on by Apollyon "the 
    Destroyer." But God's true people will be fortified against their combined 
    assaults by the same Power that is pledged for their salvation. "I saw Satan 
    fall as lightning from heaven" (Luke 10;18).
    
    "THINGS PRESENT AND THINGS TO COME shall not separate." 
    The Apostle comes down again from the ideal to the actual--from a 
    hypothetical impossibility to life's realities. This world of change has its 
    blighted hopes and frustrated schemes--"things present"; the 
    future--that unrevealed future has, with many, its pale and ghastly 
    shadows--the ghosts of dreaded evil--"the fear of the fearful"--"things 
    to come." But one divine assurance there is, beyond vacillation. No time 
    with its ages and millenniums and cycles can affect or diminish the love in 
    the heart of God. All else may and must change; but "He is faithful."
    
    "NOR HEIGHT, NOR DEPTH, NOR ANY OTHER CREATURE can 
    separate." As all time and all eternity are challenged, so is all space. 
    The herald roams creation; he roams the universe. Mountain might be piled on 
    mountain, planet might be added to planet, star conjoined to star, if a 
    barrier could thus be reared between the soul and God. Or, take a different 
    supposition. Our own earth, by some strange erratic impulse or some 
    diabolical plot, might be sent wandering into the depths of the infinite to 
    accomplish separation and isolation from its divine Creator. But each of its 
    redeemed inhabitants, conscious of the same unchanging love, could utter the 
    challenge--"If I ascend up into heaven, You are there; if I make my bed in 
    Sheol, behold You are there. If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in 
    the uttermost parts of the sea; even there shall Your hand lead me and Your 
    right hand shall hold me" (Ps. 139;8, 9, 10). I defy all time, all place, 
    all space, all possible combinations and contingencies; all heights of 
    prosperity, all depths of adversity; the giddy eminences of rank and power, 
    the extremes of poverty and need--the roll and revolution of ages, when 
    "time shall be no longer"--to separate me from the love of God which is 
    in Christ Jesus my Lord!
    
    "Led by paths we cannot see, 
    Unto heights no guess can measure, 
    Draw we nearer Thee!
    Nearer You through every aeon,
    Every universe of Thine; 
    Man and seraph swell one paean,
    Harmonizing chords divine.
    O, from You no power can sever;
    Through death's valley Your face to see; 
    Saved, forever and forever,
    Drawing nearer Thee."
    And all this of which we have now been speaking was no 
    occasional confidence of Paul. (Latin Vulgate "I am certain"). Here is what 
    theologians call "the assurance of faith" in its noblest form. No wavering 
    or incertitude. A triumphant testimony. It is as if, after the many gracious 
    assertions of the chapter--the successive clauses, comprehensively setting 
    forth the believer's creed--some had ventured to interpose and say--"All 
    this is abstract truth cogently stated in logical and dogmatic shape. But it 
    may be purely conjectural. Who can bear personal witness to the reality, the 
    inner experiences?" "I," replies the Apostle, as if putting his own seal and 
    endorsement to every foregoing proposition--"I am persuaded!" It recalls a 
    similar personal attestation in the Old Testament Scriptures. We find this 
    glowing delineation of the believer's happiness and peace--his abiding 
    strength and joy, in one of the most beautiful of the Psalms--"The righteous 
    shall flourish like the palm-tree; he shall grow like a cedar in Lebanon. 
    Those that be planted in the house of the Lord shall flourish in the courts 
    of our God. They shall still bring forth fruit in old age, they shall be fat 
    and flourishing; to show that the Lord is upright." But, as if some one, 
    here too, had ventured the question--who can bear individual testimony that 
    all this is true?--"I" replies the Psalmist, "He is MY Rock, and 
    there is no unrighteousness in Him" (Ps. 92;12-15). Both Old and New 
    Testament saints, "chief musicians"--could say and sing with the assured 
    confidence of another sacred writer--"We have known and believed the love 
    which God has to us" (1 John 4;16).
    Let us close with TWO PRACTICAL THOUGHTS.
    (1) We are occasionally in these modern times confronted 
    in print and in speech with the cynical query--"Is life worth living?" This 
    Song of Songs, in its varied notes and harmonies, supplies surely an amply 
    sufficient answer. Not indeed an answer to those whose hopes and aspirations 
    are bounded by time--those who are of the earth, earthy. The chapter to such 
    has but one solemn word in reply--"The carnal mind is enmity against God; 
    for it is not subject to the law of God, neither indeed can be. So then 
    those who are in the flesh cannot please God." But to all who can, in 
    some feeble measure, claim a saving interest in the Gospel Repertory of 
    faith and love, hope and promise, which this Great Canticle so abundantly 
    supplies--to all who have listened to the divine absolution--"no 
    condemnation,"--to all who have been brought under the regenerating 
    influences of the Holy Spirit, and quickened, through Him, to a life of 
    righteousness--to all who have the happy consciousness of being "heirs of 
    God"--ushered into "the liberty of the glory of His children;"--who, it may 
    be amid manifold outward trials, have been able to grasp the assurance, that 
    all things are working together for their spiritual good; and that the 
    sufferings of the present time are utterly insignificant compared with the 
    glory yet to be revealed--put to them also the question, "Is life worth 
    living?" Conscious of the love of God shed abroad in their hearts, the reply 
    will be instantaneous--"He asked life of You, and You gave it to him, even 
    length of days forever and ever" (Ps. 21;4).
    (2) Seek, reader, as the final lesson of the chapter--the 
    golden note of this Song of Songs--to live now under the influence of that 
    changeless love of God manifested in Christ. Make it the dominating 
    power--the impelling force of your new nature. Let these be your sacred 
    mottoes and watchwords--"I am not my own, I am bought with a price." "The 
    love of Christ constrains me." "I live; yet not I, but Christ lives in me…I 
    live by faith in the Son of God who loved me and gave Himself for me." 
    There is a tradition regarding Ignatius of Antioch, that 
    when the sword of the executioner had hewn his heart in pieces, each 
    separate fragment had the name of "Jesus" upon it in glowing letters. The 
    myth might well be a reality in the case of every true believer. We have 
    spoken indeed in the earliest part of the volume, of faltering purposes and 
    unreached ideals--the presence and power of two antagonistic principles. 
    "These are contrary the one to the other, so that you cannot do the things 
    that you would." Jubilant songs are alternated with plaintive dirge-notes. 
    But if it be your constant and growing aim to "keep yourself in the love of 
    God,"--to have your will concurrent with the divine, setting Christ ever 
    before you as your great Example and Pattern, you may rely on the promised 
    aids of the Spirit to strengthen your purposes and help your infirmities. 
    The prophetic strains of the dying Jacob regarding one of the Palestine 
    tribes will, in a figurative sense, be true of every believing 
    Israelite--"Gad, a troop shall overcome him, but he shall overcome at the 
    last" (Gen. 49;19). 
    Afflictions you must have. Storm and cloud will appear 
    suddenly in brightest skies; whatever else may be escaped, there is the 
    terminating encounter of the pilgrimage--the last fight of all; and "there 
    is no discharge in that war." But above tempest and din of battle, that 
    ancient Rock of Ages is still the same. A million of suns have risen and set 
    on a world seething with change. But HE remains. The Immutable cannot alter. 
    The deathless love of God in Christ is a wondrous crown to halo the brow of 
    every pilgrim. It is told, if I may employ the words of a distinguished 
    Divine, only substituting one quoted verse for another, "that when Bishop 
    Butler drew near his end, he asked his chaplain if he also heard the music 
    which filled his own heart. The music was not unreal, because the untrained 
    ear could not catch its harmonies. And it may be that if our whole being is 
    henceforth set heavenwards, we shall hear when we are crossing to waste 
    places, as it seems in loneliness and sorrow and inward conflict, the great 
    hosts by whom we are encompassed taking up our human psalm."--(our Song of 
    Songs) and saying…"who shall separate from the love of Christ?" "HE 
    has said, I will never leave you nor forsake you." Or, as these words have 
    been paraphrased to impart the energy of the original--"Never, no NEVER, no 
    NEVER!" That love is guaranteed by divine oath and promise. To the challenge 
    "Shall anything separate?" the reply, the symphonies of the blest--will go 
    echoing down the ages--"Never! no NEVER! no NEVER!" The Miserere is 
    heard no more; the Te Deum is the Song and the ascription of 
    Eternity.
    Let, then, one mighty orchestra be summoned in--a fervent 
    impassioned song; not in its pagan, but in its divine Christian sense--this 
    closing Hallelujah--the Hosanna of Immortal love. In appropriate words from 
    Dante "Let the earth for once hear the music of heaven." Let the myriads of 
    Redeemed below, unite with the Ransomed above. Let ministering seraphim and 
    burning cherubim combine with "the glorious company of the Apostles, the 
    goodly fellowship of prophets, the noble army of martyrs, the holy Church 
    throughout all the world,"--and let this be the ever-deepening chorus--"WHO 
    SHALL SEPARATE?" Let the notes ripple on forever.
    "Hallelujahs, full and swelling,
    Rise around His throne of might, 
    All our highest laud excelling, 
    Holy and immortal, dwelling
    In the unapproached light.
    As the sound of many waters
    Let the full Amen arise;
    Hallelujah! ceasing never, 
    Sounding through the great forever,
    Linking all its harmonies."
    Now unto Him that is able to keep you from falling, and 
    to present you faultless before the presence of His glory with exceeding 
    joy, the only wise God, our Savior, be glory and majesty, dominion and 
    power, both now and ever, AMEN.