Excerpt from John Owen, Puritan writer and preacher who lived 1616 - 1683
http://www.johnowen.org/media/packer_quest_for_godliness_ch_12.pdf
For him, as for all the Puritans, sanctification was just one facet and cross-section of the more comprehensive reality that is central to Christian existence—namely, communion with God.
The thought of communion with God takes us to the very heart of Puritan theology and religion. This becomes clear as soon as we see how this subject stands related to other themes which stood in the forefront of Puritan interest.
We all know, for instance, that the Puritans were deeply concerned with the many-sided problem of man—man’s nature and place in the world, man’s powers and possibilities for good and evil, man’s sufferings, hopes, fears, and frustrations, man’s destiny, man in the ‘fourfold state’ of innocence, of sin, of grace, and of glory. And to their minds the whole end and purpose of man’s existence was that he should have communion with God. ‘Man’s chief end is to glorify God, and to enjoy him for ever.’
Again: we all know that the Puritans were deeply and constantly concerned with the doctrine of the covenant of grace—its nature, its terms, its promises, its blessings, the modes of its dispensation, its seals and ordinances. The covenant of grace has been called the characteristic Puritan doctrine, as justification by faith was the characteristic doctrine of Luther. And to the minds of the Puritans the direct end and purpose of the covenant of grace was to bring men into union and communion with God.
Or again: the Puritans never tired of dwelling on the mediation of Christ in the covenant of grace—his humiliation and exaltation, his satisfaction and intercession, and all his gracious relations as Shepherd, Husband, Friend, and the rest, to his own covenant people. And the Puritan view of the immediate end and purpose of the mediation of Christ is made plain to us by John Owen when he speaks of Christ’s ‘great undertaking, in his life, death, resurrection, ascension, being a mediator between God and us . . . to bring us to an enjoyment of God’. This is the reality of communion.
The theme of Canticles (the Song of Solomon) is this, essentially:
The Christian’s sense of the love of Christ, and the effect of it in
communion with him, by prayer and praises, is divinely set forth in the book of Canticles. The church therein is represented as the spouse of Christ; and, as a faithful spouse she is always either solicitous about his love, or rejoicing in it (II:46). . . .
The theme is worked out in this way:Christ and the Christian are the two main characters. The daughters of Jerusalem represent ‘all sorts of professors’ (II:55). The watchmen represent office-bearers in the church, and the city represents the visible church itself. And while, occasionally, the corporate aspect of the Christian life appears in his exposition, the major concentration is on the individual’s experience and the communion he enjoys with his Lord Jesus.
Owen develops this theme in several central passages: 2:1-7: here Christ is seen, describing his own character and significance to the Christian. He is the Rose of Sharon, the Lily of the Valley. That is, he is pre-eminent in all his personal graces, just as the Rose abounds in perfume, and the Lily in beauty. Indeed, the Rose is from the fertile plain of Sharon, in which the choicest herds are reared.
What does all this mean? Christ ‘allures’ (II:42) the Christian, says Owen—there is an irresistible attraction to him; the believer enjoys the scent of him as the Rose . . . he is compared to the apple tree (2:3)—it provides fruit for food, and shade for protection. . . .Christ . . . provides shelter, ‘from wrath without, and . . . because of weariness within. . . .
From the power of corruptions, trouble of temptations, distress of
persecutions, there is in him quiet, rest, and repose’ (II:43-44).
And so in the verses that follow, our communion with the Lord
Jesus is delineated for us. It is marked by four things:
(i) Sweetness of fellowship. ‘He brought me to the banquetinghouse’, v. 4, where he reveals all the treasures of his grace in the Gospel. Indeed, says Owen, we find in this book (1:2) that his love is better than wine, since it is righteousness, peace, joy in the Holy Spirit. . . .
(ii) Delight in fellowship. The maiden is overcome with all this, and she wants to know more of the love of her beloved. She is ‘sick of love’—v. 5, ‘not (as some suppose) fainting for want of a sense of love,’ but, ‘made sick and faint, even overcome, with the mighty actings of that divine affection, after she had once tasted of the sweetness of Christ in the banqueting-house’ (II:44).
(iii) Safety v. 4—his banner over her was love—a symbol of protection, and a token of success and victory. . . . Christ’s banner stands over the believer. . . . Only what Christ gives to us in his love for us will ever come to us. It is the great argument of Romans 8:32—he that spared not his own Son, how shall he not with him also freely give us all things?
This is our resting place and safety!
(iv) Support and Consolation v. 6. His left hand is under her head, and his right hand embraces her. What is this? asks Owen. It is the picture of Christ supporting the church, and at the same time cherishing it and nourishing it! And so, v. 7—their fellowship together is continued and sustained.
In Canticles 2:9 Christ reappears. In the Song, the lover shows himself through the lattice, and this is interpreted as follows: ‘Our sight of him here is as it were by glances,—liable to be clouded by many interpositions.’ There is ‘instability and imperfection in our apprehension of him’, that is our present mortal state; ‘In the meantime he looketh through the windows of the ordinances of the Gospel’ (II:126). When the Christian has turned away in heart, Christ comes, searching and longing for the loving service of the church. If he does not receive it, he will withdraw. It would be impossible within the general framework of Owen’s theology to suppose that this involves severed relationships; but it does imply disjointed experience and broken fellowship. Christ is still the Christian’s possession and vice-versa, but the sense [awareness] of this has gone.
In chapter 3 the spouse discovers that her lover has withdrawn. She is perplexed. Owen is not clear whether this is the cause or the effect of the ‘night’ in which she discovers herself, but points to the application: ‘in the greatest peace and opportunity of ease and rest, a believer finds none in the absence of Christ: though he be on his bed, having nothing to disquiet him, he rests not, if Christ, his rest, be not there’ (II:128). So the soul searches for Christ, first of all in the ordinary duties of faith (II:613), but ‘This is not a way to recover a sense of lost love’ (II:353), rather there must be ‘Resolutions for new, extraordinary, vigorous, constant applications unto God,’—‘the first general step and degree of a sin-entangled soul acting towards a recovery’ (ibid). It is evident that here the soul has lost its sense of forgiveness, and that the search for its restoration involves two things: first, a search of one’s own soul to discover the cause of Christ’s absence, and, second, a search of the promises of God to discover the means of his return. Self-examination must be followed by a reapplication to the Covenant of Grace. If this yields no success, the solution is to be found in extraordinary duties, as Owen has already hinted.
So the spouse goes about the city (the visible church) looking for her lover. If Christ is not found in private, it is the Christian’s duty to make a special search for him in public, through worship, the preaching of the word, and the sacraments. In her search the maiden is found by the watchmen (office-bearers in the church visible) . . . take notice of the plight of the spouse. This is the duty of faithful office-bearers. Exactly how Christ is discovered is not indicated in the passage, but Owen detects some significance in this too. When Christ comes, it is in his own mysterious way by the Spirit.
By chapter 5 the spouse has sunk again into sloth and indolence. The shepherd-lover comes to meet with her, but she excuses herself by the unsuitableness of the time and her lack of preparation for her duties (II:520). Christ, thus rebuffed, leaves the believer and ‘long it is before she obtains any recovery’ (II:346). He returns later in the chapter and the description given in 5:10-16 provides Owen with a further opportunity to celebrate what the Christian finds in his Saviour who is described as being ‘white and ruddy’. ‘He is white in the glory of his deity, and ruddy in the preciousness of his humanity’ (II:49). . . . It is this excellence, through the union of the ‘white and ruddy’ that fits him to be the Saviour, and brings salvation through union and communion with him.
In the following verses the maiden goes on to describe Christ more fully. His head is as fine gold—conveying the splendour and durability of Christ as the head of the government of the kingdom of God (II:71). His locks are said to be ‘bushy’ or curled, ‘black as a raven’. To first appearance the hair is tangled, but in fact it is well and precisely ordered, thus representing the wisdom of Christ in his mediatorial administration.
The hair is black to indicate that he ways are past finding out (II:72), and, in a natural sense, emphasising his comeliness and vigour (II:73). His eyes are like those of the dove—not a bird of prey—indicating the wealth of his knowledge and discernment. They are tender and pure as he discerns the thoughts and intentions of men (ibid). His cheeks are like beds of spices, sweet of savour, beautiful in their orderliness (II:75); so the graces of Christ, in his human nature, are gathered by Christians in prayer, from the Covenant promises of God which are well ordered (2 Samuel 23:5). These graces are eminent indeed, like ‘towers of perfumes’ (marginal reading adopted by Owen, II:76). His lips are like lilies, dropping myrrh—a description of the riches of Christ’s word (ibid).
His hands (v. 14), refers to the work he has accomplished, as the fruit of his love. His belly (in the sense of bowels) reminds us of his tender mercy and loving affection. His legs, countenance and mouth (v. 15) remind us of the stability of his kingdom, the grace and faithfulness of his promises. He is completely worthy of the desires and affections of his followers (v. 16) in his birth, life, and death, in the glory of his ascension and coronation, in the supply of the Spirit of God, in the ordinances of worship, in the tenderness of his care, in the justice of his vengeance on his enemies, as well as in the pardon he dispenses to all his own people.
And this Christ, says Owen, often comes by surprise to the Christian: when he is engaged in ordinary occupations, he finds his mind drawn out in love for Jesus. Weigh these experiences against those when Satan invades the mind with worldly thoughts, says Owen, lest you be led to despair.
Owen’s analysis of communion with God can be set out in five
propositions.
1. Communion with God is a relationship of mutual interchange between God and man.
2. Communion with God is a relationship in which the initiative and power are with God.
3. Communion with God is a relationship in which Christians receive love from, and respond in love to, all three Persons of the Trinity.
4. Communion with God is a relation of active, forward-looking friendship between God and man.
5. Communion with God in Christ is enjoyed in a special way at the Lord’s Table.
