Go thy way, eat thy bread with joy, and drink thy wine with a merry heart; for God now aceepteth thy works.
Festival joy
This is one of those passages, so remarkable in the writings of Solomon, in which the words of sinful men in the world are taken up by the Holy Ghost, to be applied in a Christian sense. As they stand in Ecclesiastes, they are intended to represent the sayings of sensual, careless people, indulging themselves in their profane ways, their utter neglect of God and goodness, with the notion that this world is all. It is much the same as the unbeliever’s saying, “Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die.” But see the ever-watchful goodness and mercy of God. The words which the dissolute, wild-hearted sinner uses to encourage himself in his evil, inconsiderate ways, He teaches us to take up, and use them in a very different sense; to express the inward joy and comfort which God’s people may find in obeying Him. As thus: suppose a person giving himself up, with his whole heart, to the service and obedience of God; suppose him really Withdrawing himself from the sins which had most easily beset him; suppose him making some great sacrifice, parting with what he held very dear, or submitting to pain or grief for Christ’s sake: then the holy and merciful Comforter seems to say to him in the words of the text, “Go thy way now, thank God, and take courage; the blessing of God is now restored to thee, and will be upon all thou hast, and upon thine ordinary employments and refreshments: now thou mayest eat thy bread with joy, and drink thy wine with a merry heart, for God now accepteth thy works.” What a heavenly light it would throw over our ordinary works and refreshments, if, being always careful to set about them with a good conscience, we could seriously bring it home to ourselves, that they are so many tokens of heavenly and eternal love; so many reasonable grounds of hope, that God really accepteth our works. But there is yet a higher, a Christian sense of these words. The bread and wine, the white garments, the ointment for the head, are figures and types of our Christian privileges, the blessings and favours of the kingdom of heaven. It is, then, as if the Holy Word had said to us, being, as we are, Christian men, members of the mystical Body of our Lord and Saviour, “Now you have been brought into the communion of saints; now God has set His seal upon you; now you are washed, sanctified, justified, in the name of the Lord Jesus, and by the Spirit of our God. Go your way, then; use your privileges with all reverence, joy, and fear.” And it would seem that if Christians were at all such as they ought to be, the words might be well and profitably understood with a particular reference to this sacred season of Whitsuntide. This is the last of the holy seasons; it represents to us the full completion of God’s unspeakable plan for the salvation of the world. The words have a sound most comfortable to penitents, as well as to those who, by God’s help, have kept themselves from wilful, deadly sin. They sound like words of absolution: “Go thy way, return again to that holy Table, from which thy transgressions had for a time separated thee: eat thy Bread and drink thy Wine with a courageous and hopeful heart; for now there is hope that God accepteth thy works; that He hears thee, since thou hast left off inclining unto wickedness with thine heart. Thy case indeed is alarming, from the continual danger of a relapse; and thy loss at best is great, penitency instead of innoceney being thy portion; yet go on steadily and cheerfully.” Observe, however, the words which follow, which to the hearing of a thoughtful Christian convey a very serious admonition, telling us on what these unspeakable privileges depend, so far as our own conduct is concerned: “Let thy garments be always white, and let thine head lack no ointment.” To say, therefore, to Christians at Whitsuntide, “Let thy garments be always white,” was the same as saying, “Take care that at no time you stain or sully the bright and clear robe of your Saviour’s righteousness, which has just been thrown over you: according to the apostle’s saying, ‘As many as have been baptized into Christ have put on Christ.’ As much as possible keep it clear from all spot of wilful sin.” Again, says the wise man, “Let thine head lack no ointment”; and this again is an allusion which would come with a particular meaning in early times to the new-baptized Christians, and those who had been present at their baptism And oil is in Scripture the constant token of the gifts and graces of the Holy Spirit. Therefore, to say, “Let thy head lack no ointment,” would mean, “Take care that thou stir up, cherish, and improve the unspeakable gift of which thou art now made partaker. Use diligently all the means of grace which Christ has provided for thee in His kingdom, whereof thou art now come to be an inheritor.” (Plain Sermons by Contributors to the “Tracts for the Times.”)
Let thy garments be always white.--
White robes
One of the most common beliefs of men concerning heaven is that all are to be robed in white; and it is no idle fancy, for the Bible warrants such a belief. The priestly robes worn in the temple service were white; the apocalyptic vision was filled with the white-robed; the poetry of the Bible teaches that purity and joy in life are symbolized by snowy raiments--“Let thy garments be always white.” “Thy garments.” This is a personal matter. The command is to the end that each is to see that his own dress is clean. The neighbour will take care of his own. And now the emphasis comes on “always.” There must not be a single careless moment. Why is the colour of our garments to be white? Why? Because everybody looks well in white. All complexions can stand white. The plainest are adorned and the most beautiful are made more angelic by wearing it. We love white garments because they are so pure. No impure dyes have disfigured the cloth, and all of Nature’s tints the bleachers have taken away. So white robes remind us constantly of purity. And did you ever think how important it is? The springs that furnish the thirsty with water must be in their fountain-heads pure, or who will dare to use it? The usefulness of anything depends upon its purity. The white garment is an object lesson, then, teaching the vital importance of purity in heart and life. To be able to look God in the face with steady eye and unblanched cheek. O, that is worth all the sacrifice that it may demand! “But it is so hard to keep pure and sweet,” they say. I may be tempted by the allurements of the world. Money, with its shining sunbeams, may twine its fingers about my heart to woo it. Ambition, with her lofty and imposing mien, may awe me to obey her. Shall I give up the white raiment of my soul? I would not dare to soil my raiment now, for the spots in such a light the whole world could see, and how could I ever again look up and cry “Abba, Father,” if on my heart was the stain of evil? But white raiment is the symbol of another quality in the true life. It is joy. Always dependent upon purity for its life, yet a separate quality. No impure life is ever a truly happy life. We put on our clean raiment to honour the joyful occasion. Children, I believe that pure heart is always happy. Then there is a duty attached, the duty to be joyful in being and doing good. How different the world would be to-day if the command about our spiritual toilet were heeded! Let us try hereafter to live in such a way as to teach our friends how blessed it is to have pure, and, therefore, happy hearts. White robes bring great responsibility. They soil so easily. The clean garment shows the dirt at the slightest contact. Keep your hearts clean, for they will soil as easily as the white dress. The little girl who went home from a visit to a neighbour’s by far the longest way, in order to keep her dress from the mud of a certain street, on being asked why she did it since it made her very tired, said: “It kept my dwess tean.” How much better children of our Heavenly Father we should be if we were as particular to keep the raiment of our hearts free from the mud-stains of sin, even though the extra toil makes us very weary. Better be tired, even to death, than soil the raiment of the soul. (G. F. Prentiss.)