Preserved

The Psalmist will be "preserved"; he will not only be created. There is a cold deism which says, "Having been created, that is enough; the rest belongs to myself; I must attend to the details of life; creation may have been a Divine act, but all education, culture, "progress, preservation must fall under my own personal care." The Psalmist begins in another tone. He opens his Psalm with the great word "preserve" — equal to, Attend to all my cares and wants; pity my feebleness; take hold of my right hand, and of my left hand, and be round about me, and never leave me for one moment to myself. That is true worship. Only a sense of the Divine nearness of that kind can adequately sustain a noble and growing religion. We need a daily prayer; we die for want of daily food; every morning must be a revelation in light, every night must be a revelation in rest. This is not a selfish preservation, a preservation from evil, or danger, or suffering only, but the kind of preservation that is necessary to growth. Who has not seen the guards round the trees, especially the little trees, the young growths, so that they may have a chance of taking hold of the earth, and lifting themselves up to the sun, and bringing out of themselves all the secret of the Divine purpose in their creation? A selfish preservation would be an impious desire, but the preservation being asked for as an opportunity of growth is a preservation for which the noblest souls may daily pray. It is, then, not enough to have been created; even that Divine act becomes deteriorated and spoiled, impoverished, utterly depleted of all ennobling purpose and inspiration, unless it be followed by continual husbandry or shepherdliness, nursing or culture — for the figure admits of every variety of change; the end being growth, strength, fruitfulness.