THE ROYAL ENTERTAINER

Verse Fifth.

"Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies:

Thou anointest mine head with oil;

My cup runneth over."

At the fifth verse, it is manifest, the figure of speech is changed. Up to this point every clause has been a picture from the experience of the sheep; but, when the singer says, "Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies; thou anointest mine head with oil; my cup runneth over," it is obvious that the figure of the sheep and the shepherd is entirely dropped.

1. The New Figure op Speech.

If at this point the figure of speech is changed, it is a question what the next figure is.

In a published sermon, characterized by spiritual power and especially by the vividness imparted to the interpretation of the Old Testament by knowledge of the Orient, Principal George Adam Smith takes this verse as a picture of a scene from pastoral life. He thinks the speaker is a fugitive who, having committed some crime, is pursued by the avengers of blood, and has taken refuge in the tent of a shepherd-chief. By Eastern law and custom such a fugitive would be protected with all the resources of the person on whose mercy he had cast himself, and regaled with the best which the encampment could afford. It is a truly tragic picture to see the fugitive there within, protected by the sheikh and feasting on the best, while his infuriated and bloodthirsty foes glare at him from the opposite side of the threshold, which they dare not cross. Principal Smith takes these pursuing enemies to represent the writer’s sins. The spectres of guilt pursue every son of man, for who has not behind him an evil past? But, if a man has taken refuge in God, casting himself on His mercy, his pursuers dare not touch him. Undoubtedly this gives a striking sense to the verse; and the interpretation has this recommendation, that it still adheres to the pastoral life. But the author is not so happy in explaining the sixth verse.

By the perusal of a fascinating booklet, entitled The Song of our Syrian Guest, from the pen of the Rev. W. A. Knight, the minds of multitudes on both sides of the Atlantic have been captured for the view that the image of shepherd and sheep is continued to the end of the Psalm. For the fifth verse this is argued ingeniously, but not convincingly: the preparing of a table being taken as the selection of a pasture, the anointing as the salving of wounds and bruises, and the cup as the vessel by which the trough is filled out of which the sheep drink. Far more natural is the application of the language to the various features of a banquet. But it is in the sixth verse that that interpretation breaks down. A sheep does not dwell in the "house" of a shepherd, unless it be a pet lamb; and this is a condition which does not last "forever." No doubt the word "house" has great latitude of application; and it might possibly refer to the fold, though I do not remember a case where it is so used. When "the house of the Lord" is taken as the palace of the king, in which the banquet of the fifth verse has taken place, the sixth verse is the climax of the whole Psalm, as from its position it ought to be; but under any other interpretation this character is lost.

In short, David is here making use of the experience of the second portion of his own life, as in the image of the shepherd and the sheep he utilises the experience of the first. As in youth he was a shepherd abiding in the fields, in manhood he was a king living in a palace. One of the obligations of a king is to be an entertainer, exercising a frequent and a splendid hospitality. In this virtue, we know from the historical records of his reign, David did not come short; he had the cordiality and the personal fascination by which hospitality is rendered delightful. Many a guest had he made happy at his table, thereby binding him in triple loyalty to his own person; and, as in his own conduct as a shepherd he had found a fruitful image of what God had done, so does he find in this other rôle, played by himself with such distinction, an ampler and more intimate representation of the divine

2. An Image of Activity.

Why is it that the sacred singer forsakes the image of the shepherd and the sheep, and embraces in his poem this one also? I have already given an external reason in the two periods of David’s history; but there is an internal reason as well: it is that the first image is not sufficient to express the spiritual life in its entirety. Some aspects of it were expressed by this image admirably, but others, no less important, could hardly be expressed at all.

For example, it expressed the passive but not the active side of religion.

The relation of the sheep to the shepherd is wholly passive: the sheep is fed, it is led, it is protected; a sheep does nothing for itself, or next to nothing. And there is a side of religion which corresponds to this: in religion God does everything, and man has nothing to do but passively receive. This is a great truth; but it is not the whole truth. Religion has an active side as well: it is a battle and a victory. Well was David aware of this: he was a great worker for God, a fighter and a victor; and this side of his religion is expressed in this next image.

Perhaps this is most distinctly hinted at in the phrase, "in the presence of mine enemies," because this denotes that it is a warrior’s feast which is described.

Many of the banquets in David’s palace must have been of this type. One of the features of his reign was that, like our own King Arthur with his knights of the Round Table, he collected round himself from all parts of the land the young men of promise and aspiration, and trained them up in valour and usefulness. Their exploits were long remembered by their countrymen with pride and affection. At their head were the three mighties, and after these the thirty; Joab and Abishai, Benaiah and Asahel were names familiar for generations afterwards as household words. These David sent forth to clear the land of enemies and to widen its borders on every hand; and, when they came home to record their triumphs, no doubt he feasted them in the palace, making them feel how much he rejoiced in their valour and their victories.

3. An Image of Friendship.

Another element of the spiritual life imperfectly expressed by the image of the sheep and the shepherd, but far more adequately set forth by that of entertainer and guest, is communion.

Between sheep and shepherd there is a strong tie: they understand each other, and may be said to love each other. Yet they are far apart: between a brute and a man there is a great gulf fixed. It may be said that the gulf between man and God is wider still. But this is not the case. The Eighth Psalm boldly declares, in the correct translation of the Revised Version, that man has been made but a little lower than God; and all Scripture unites in declaring that man was made in the image of God. Man is capable of knowing, loving and obeying his Creator, and this is his highest honour. It is, indeed, an infinite condescension on the part of God; but He allows and invites man to a far closer fellowship with Himself than it is possible for a sheep to have with a man; and this was the fact of religion which required to be represented through a new image.

A banquet is a living image of fellowship. To invite a man to be your guest is an expression 6f respect and affection; and it is an intimation that you wish to know more of him, and to come closer to him. The house is adorned, the table is spread with unusual care, and the viands are chosen to give him pleasure and do him honour. As the feast proceeds, distance and shyness are broken down; the lips are opened, and the heart is opened. The host not only gives his entertainment, but he gives himself; and the guest gives himself in return.

This is an image of religion. Religion is fellowship with God; this is its very soul and essence. To be religious is to walk with God. It is to move all day long in an atmosphere warmed and enlightened by His presence. It is to realise Him to be so near that you can appeal to Him in every emergency, seek His aid in every time of need, and in every joy make Him your confidant It is to see Him everywhere — in the sunshine, in the beauty of hill and dale, in the life of the market-place and the vicissitudes of home. This immensely brightens and intensifies life; and in this sense all a Christian’s life may be said to be a banquet. Others, sitting at the table of Providence, receive ordinary fare; but those who enjoy God in everything partake of festal food. A crust, if God’s blessing is given with it, and if it is received with thankfulness, causes more enjoyment than the most savoury food where God is forgotten. To the mind which can discern God the whole world becomes a king’s palace.

But in another sense the Christian life may be compared to a banquet: not only is God in every part of it, but now and then He favours the soul with special seasons of communion. In its very nature a feast is an occasional thing: it "does not take place every day. And perhaps, therefore, the experience for which it stands is one which is not the Christian’s daily portion, but given as a special favour and reward now and then. There are such seasons.: religion has not only its ordinary tenor, but its exceptional experiences — its mounts of transfiguration and its evenings in the upper room. At such times God comes very near, and fellowship is very close. Of such occurrences the saints of every age have spoken. Says one:

Upon my heart, bestowed' by Thee,

     More gladness I have found

Than they, even then when corn and wine

     Did most with them abound.

Another, on the evening of a day spent in communion, said, "I had rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of wickedness." St. Paul was caught up to the third heavens, and did not know whether he was in the body or out of the body. Read the Confessions of St. Augustine, or the Sermons of St. Bernard, Bunyan’s Grace Abounding, or Rutherford’s Letters, and you will see that the Christian life has what Bunyan calls its "golden hours"; and what makes these golden is the nearness of God and the sense of the divine love. Ordinary humanity no doubt has its rare and memorable moments too: it is a poor life in which there are not some days which shine like gold and diamonds among the wood, hay and stubble of ordinary experience — days so precious that they would not be exchanged for years of commonplace existence — but nothing earthly can lift the human spirit to such heights as the influence of the Spirit of God.

Perhaps I ought to interpret in detail the different parts of the banquet as they are described in the text — the food, which is no doubt chiefly intended in the opening words, "Thou preparest a table before me"; then the delightful extravagance of oil, with its cool touch, so grateful in an Eastern climate, and its fragrance, enveloping the senses; then the drink, so abundant as to overflow the wine-cup. In Christian experience something could easily be found corresponding to each of these; and those so disposed may exercise their ingenuity in finding it out. But I will not take the trouble; these are only poetical amplifications of the idea of a right regal banquet. The most important thing is that which underlies them without being expressed. What is the reason why you go to anyone’s table when you are invited? It is not because you will get a better meal than you would at home, though this may be welcome; it is not for the abundance and the splendour, though you may feel these to be in place: it is friendship which takes you there; you go to find your friend, not to receive his food; these externals are only preparations and contributions to the true feast. So, in religion, it is God Himself we seek; and the various blessings of salvation are nothing in themselves except as they bring us nigh to Him.