Door of Hope

C. "The valley of Achor for a door of hope." Now the "valley of ACHOR" signifies the 'valley of trouble.' It was the valley in which Achan was stoned. And why stoned? Because he had taken the accursed thing—because his eye had been captivated by the Babylonish garment and golden wedge, and he had buried them in the tent. This may throw a light on what "the valley of Achor" is spiritually. Perhaps you have been guilty of Achan's sin—you have been taking the accursed thing—you have been too deeply connected with the world—you have done things that God's displeasure is against. Let conscience speak in your bosom. The consequence has been, that you have gotten into the "valley of Achor!" Trouble, sorrow, and confusion are your lot; and you do not know whether the lot of Achan may not await you there.

Now it is in this "valley of Achor," or sorrow, confusion, and fear, that the "door of HOPE" is opened. And what is "a door of hope?" What is a 'door' literally? Is not "a door" a place of exit and a place for entrance? By "a door" we go out, and by "a door" we come in. So "a door of hope" admits the visits of the Lord to the soul; and "a door of hope" admits the going out of the soul's breathings after God. Thus, every glimpse of mercy, every beam of love, and every ray of comfort; every sweet promise that drops into the soul, every intimation from God, every testimony of interest in Christ; every dewdrop, every honey-drop that falls into a parched wilderness heart—this is opening up "a door of hope."

But why "in the valley of Achor?" That we may cease to hope in self—that a sound and true gospel hope may enter within the veil as an anchor sure and steadfast, and there be no hope but in the precious blood of the Lamb, and in a sweet manifestation of that blood to the conscience. This is "the door of hope" through which the soul looks into the very presence of God—sees Jesus on the throne of grace, the sprinkled mercy-seat, and the great High Priest "able and willing to save to the uttermost."

Through this "door of hope," by which Christ is seen, the soul goes forth in desires, breathings, hungerings, and thirstings after him. And through this "door of hope" descend visits, smiles, tokens, testimonies, mercies, and favors. And thus, there is a "door of hope;" no longer barred, closed, and shut back—but thrown wide open in the bleeding side of an incarnate God! And this is opened "in the valley of Achor," where we deserve to be stoned to death because we have touched the accursed thing—where we deserve nothing but damnation, the eternal vengeance of God, and to be made as Achan a monument of eternal wrath. Yet, in this "valley of Achor," is opened up a blessed "door of hope."

D. "She shall sing there as in the days of her youth, as in the day when the Lord brought her out of the land of Egypt." Spring again! only a better spring. Youth again! "They shall renew their strength as the eagle." Here is a renewing—of visits almost despaired of—of joys that seemed never to return—of hopes almost extinct—of consolations remembered, but remembered almost with fear, lest they should have been delusive. "She shall sing there as in the days of her youth, and as in the day when she came out of the land of Egypt."

But what a place to go and get into, to learn religion. How much more pleasant it would be to the flesh to take our Bible down, get a notebook, have a new pen, put some fresh ink into the ink bottle, and then to draw out our religion from the Bible; to believe all we read, take down all we see, and transplant it into our heart. But that is not the way—that would only stand in the 'letter'. It would not do for eternity, nor for a dying bed. It would exalt the creature, but would depress the Creator. It might do for an hour, but it would not do for the judgment-day. And therefore, we have to learn our religion, if we learn it at all, in a way totally opposite.

Have you learned your religion in the wilderness? If you have, it will stand. There is a reality in it—it bears marks of God's grace and teaching. But if we have not learned it in this way—what reality, what power, what blessedness is there in it? None! We shall have to part with it when we need it most. When we lie upon a death-bed, all our false religion will make to itself wings, and fly away—and when we stretch forth our hands for a little true hope, it is all gone.

Thus, we want something solid, real, spiritual, abiding; something of God and godliness, divine, heavenly, and supernatural; wrought in the soul by the almighty power, and breathed into our heart by the very mouth of God himself. That will stand, and no other will.

If the Lord has led you in his path, you have an evidence in your soul that these things are so; and you will know that this is the way—not because I say, so, nor because the Bible always says it—but because you have felt, experienced, and known these things by divine teaching and by divine testimony!