‘O Lord, thou hast pleaded the causes of my soul; thou hast redeemed my life.’—Lam. iii. 58.

We studied in the last lecture the remarkable faith of Jeremiah. We found how he redeemed the field in Anathoth at the very time that Jerusalem was invested by the Chaldeans, and he himself was predicting the certainty of its destruction: but in that moment of hopelessness he had such entire trust in the promise of restoration, and such assurance in the validity of the title, that he purchased the field as readily as he would have done had everything been at the height of prosperity. We saw in such conduct the practical acting of faith. But it is very interesting also to look at the hidden life of faith, and to know, while he was thus acting, what was secretly passing in his soul. I think that this passage may throw great light on the subject. From ver. 55 it is clear that he referred to a time when he was in the low dungeon: ‘I called upon thy name, O Lord, out of the low dungeon.’ We are not informed to which imprisonment he referred. It may have been the imprisonment in the courts of the prison which was in the court of the king’s house, during which he redeemed the land of Hanameel, or it may have been the much more severe imprisonment which subsequently followed, as described Jer. xxxviii. 6, when they let him down by ropes into a deep, damp pit, called the dungeon of Malchiah. The expression ‘the low dungeon,’ seems rather to describe this latter captivity, and we may picture to ourselves God’s faithful servant left alone in a deep, dark pit, standing up to his waist in the mire, without a comfort, without a friend, and without even a fellow-prisoner to share his trouble. His title-deeds to the field in Anathoth would not do much to help him there. But he was a man of trust, and afterwards, when he was still in sore trouble, and deeply grieved at the ruin of the city, he could look back on that time and say, ‘Thou hast pleaded the causes of my soul, thou hast redeemed my life.’Let us study then this remarkable record of his intercourse with God during this time of his deep trouble. There was nothing done. It was not a time for doing. He could not climb out, he could only stand and wait. What then was passing in his soul? What transactions took place between him and God? To these questions I think this passage supplies an answer. There are three things that seem perfectly clear.

(1.) He called on the name of the Lord. Perhaps he remembered the words of Psalm xxxiv.: ‘This poor man cried, and the Lord heard him, and saved him out of all his troubles.’ At all events he acted on them, and though in all probability he could not kneel because of the mire, yet he could pray, and so he did. But he was not like many people who live prayerless lives, and only begin to pray when they get into trouble, for prayer was no new thing to him. He was no stranger at the throne of grace, and he could look back on many happy occasions in which he had reason to be quite sure God had answered him. It is a terrible thing when men go on, strangers to prayer, till they are driven to it by calamity. It was not so with Jeremiah. He knew the mercy-seat well, and he was well known there. He could refer to answers in former times, and say, ‘Thou hast heard my voice,’ and so appeal to God in his present trouble and say, ‘Hide not thine ear at my breathing, at my cry.’ There was both a breathing and a cry; the cry being the actual expression of his wants in words, and the breathing, the outpouring of his soul in mental intercourse with a God who knew his thoughts. It is well to remember this distinction between the breathing and the prayer. The prayer is not altogether unlike the food at stated seasons. The breathing is the unceasing communion of soul as essential to life as breath is to the body.

(2.) And now mark, in the second place, how God treated him. The King of Kings was not ashamed of being the companion of the prisoner in the pit. It was a deep, dark dungeon; but the man of God was not alone there. The stone on the top could not shut out God, as it could not shut in prayer. And you will observe the prophet was not required to climb out of the pit to find the Lord, as so many people are continually trying to do, but the Lord drew nigh to him when he was at the bottom, not when he was at the top, or half-way up; but at the bottom, in the mire, and in the dark. It was there that God drew near to him in the day that he called, and most graciously spoke to his soul, and said, ‘Fear not.’ How often, how mercifully have these words been spoken! I believe they occur more than fifty times in Scripture. How often do we meet with such words as ‘Fear not, Abraham.’ ‘Fear not, thou worm Jacob.’ ‘Fear not, Daniel.’ ‘Fear not, Zacharias.’ ‘Fear not, little flock.’ ‘Fear not, Paul.’ ‘Fear not, I am the first and the last!’ Do not all these passages show that there is reason for fear in outward life, and that there is the element of fear in the human heart, but there may be a victory over fear even in the bottom of the pit, when the Lord Himself draws nigh, and says, ‘Fear not.’ But you may say you cannot hear the words, and, no doubt, in that you are correct, for we are not to expect loud voices from heaven. We have not the least reason to believe that Jeremiah heard a voice. When David prayed, ‘Say unto my soul, I am thy salvation,’ he did not mean that these words should be spoken audibly to his ear. But he did mean that the assurance of God’s salvation should be applied by the Holy Spirit to his heart. And so when God drew near to Jeremiah and said, ‘Fear not,’ we are not to understand that His person was visible to the eye, or the sound of His voice perceptible to the ear. But we are to understand that He so spoke to his heart as to assure him of His nearness, and to still his fears. And so it is with us. We do not look for anything perceptible by outward sense, but we do look for a rest from fear in the heart through the divine application of the Lord’s grace and very present help to the soul.

(3.) And now consider, thirdly, the practical result in Jeremiah’s attitude of mind. He could look calmly up to Him who had drawn nigh unto Him, and say, ‘O Lord, thou hast pleaded the causes of my soul, thou hast redeemed my life.’ It is difficult to determine exactly whether this was his language in the low dungeon, or after he was taken out of it. We read in Jer. xxxviii., that Ebed-melech, one of the king’s eunuchs, obtained permission to draw him up out of the dungeon, and he was subsequently confined in the court of the prison. As I have frequently pointed out, the word redemption sometimes stands simply for deliverance, and it is possible that it may do so here, and refer to the deliverance by Ebed-melech. But I do not think it does, for the latter part of the chapter seems clearly to teach that when Jeremiah wrote these words he was not yet delivered, but was still enduring the bitter hostility of his revengeful enemies. I am, therefore, rather disposed to regard these words as the utterance of a trusting heart when he was still in the low dungeon. I look on them, not as the effect of Ebed-melech pulling him out, but of God drawing near to him when he was in it, and saying to his soul, ‘Fear not.’ I think the passage is faith’s reply to God’s address. God drew near, and said, ‘Fear not,’ and faith accepted it at once, though still in the pit, and said, ‘Thou hast pleaded the causes of my soul, thou hast redeemed my life.’ The language seems to lead us far beyond anything done by Ebed-melech, to a divine redemption, and a divine pleading of his cause. They remind us of those other words of Jeremiah, ‘Their Redeemer is strong; the Lord of hosts is his name; he shall thoroughly plead their cause;’ Jer. L. 34; and I cannot help thinking that Jeremiah looked forward, as David did, to the great redemption by the Lord Jesus, as purposed from eternity, and promised in the sure word of God. As David said, ‘Thou hast redeemed me;’ so he said, ‘Thou hast redeemed my life.’ It was the Redeemer Himself that drew near to him in his low estate, and as it were said unto his soul, ‘I am thy salvation.’ The promised work was not yet accomplished, but it was brought home to his heart, and, though the stone was still on the mouth of the dungeon, his soul was free, and his life was safe, for he was redeemed in the coming Christ.

If this be the meaning of the passage, does it not teach us that redeeming grace must always be our great help in trouble? If we are brought to the bottom of the pit, by sorrow, by sickness, by calamity, by the approach of death, or by the deep and painful sense of sin, all true source of strength must ever be in the great work of redemption wrought out for us by the Son of God. It is that which opens the way to the throne, and which enables us to rest in the assurance of the love of God. You may find many difficulties in the way of faith, and many drawbacks under the profound sense of your own unworthiness. But it is wonderful to find how they disappear before the cross of Christ; and if only you are enabled to say, ‘Thou hast redeemed my life,’ you will find in that one fact, a blessed, holy, peaceful resting-place, even though by outward circumstances or inward trial you may still be at the bottom of the pit.

But whatever view we take of the expression, ‘Thou hast redeemed my life,’ one thing is perfectly clear, that the redemption was applied to Jeremiah’s soul at the bottom of the pit. If it is to be explained of deliverance it was when he was sunk into the mire at the bottom of the low dungeon that the deliverance was applied. And if it describes the application to his soul of the Lord’s redemption, and his acceptance of it as something already as sure as if it were perfected, it was when he was bowed down in the very depths of trouble that the blessed work was brought home with peace to his soul. Whatever meaning you give to the word ‘redemption’ in this passage, redemption was brought home to him at the bottom of the pit.

Now I cannot imagine a more important principle than this for all those who really desire to partake of all the blessings of redemption. Of course there are some who do not trouble their minds about it, being satisfied with their own religious respectability; but there are multitudes deeply concerned about it. They earnestly desire to be able to say, ‘Thou hast redeemed my life,’ but they cannot do so; and yet possibly they have been really taking pains to do so for many years, although without the least sign of progress. Now may not their difficulties arise in many cases from their having reversed the order of the dealings of God? They have hoped to climb up partially out of the pit, and to reach redemption at the top, instead of accepting it as a free gift of God while they are still helpless at the bottom. In other words, they are endeavouring first to remove their difficulties, and then to trust redemption. No wonder then that they completely fail! for how are they to climb up out of the pit? and how are they to overcome their difficulties while they are still at a distance from redeeming grace? It is redemption that is to deliver, redemption that is to raise us from the dead, redemption that removes the difficulty, how then can we ever hope to rise until redemption is applied and realised? If redemption is not sufficient to reach down to one in a state of utter hopelessness, it is insufficient for the conscience-stricken sinner. Remember, therefore, the case of Jeremiah. Consider his case as an illustration of your own, and if you are yourself at the bottom of what I may term the religious pit, in a low dungeon from which you cannot rise, remember how the Lord drew near to him when he was at the bottom, and did not wait till he had climbed even half-way to reach His hand. Just so it must be with you. He must stoop to reach you before you can rise to reach Him. Your first act of faith must be when you are at the bottom. It will be there, and not at the top, or half-way up, that for the first time you will realise a finished redemption. If ever you have the unspeakable joy of saying in all the happiness of personal appropriation, ‘Thou hast pleaded the causes of my soul; thou hast redeemed my life,’ you will have to do so before you have risen above your present level. Do not therefore wait to make some poor, feeble, ineffective effort to rise; but as you are in the midst of your discouragements, though the stone still seems to stop the mouth of the low dungeon, trust at once with a bold act of fearless faith, and without waiting to deserve it, act at once on His own invitation, ‘Return unto me, for I have redeemed thee.’But as for those amongst you that have been brought up out of the pit, what should be the language of your thankful heart? You have not only seen the great redemption finished, but you have experienced its application. You have not merely been taught to trust Him in the bottom of the low dungeon, but you can say as David did, ‘He brought me up also out of an horrible pit, and out of the miry clay, and set my feet upon a rock, and established my goings.’ Ps. xl. 2. If so, will you not go on and add, ‘He hath put a new song in my mouth, even thanksgiving unto our God?’ Will you not join heart and soul in the language of our Communion Service, ‘We praise thee, we bless thee, we worship thee, we glorify thee, we give thanks to thee for thy great glory, O Lord God, heavenly King, God the Father Almighty?’