In the Winepress

In the Winepress

Only “sons of the Cross” can sing in the winepress, for they know the secret of the ways of God, that out of death comes life, out of suffering, divine joy. Therefore, they see not the winepress and the Cross in their outward pain and loss as men see them, but from the viewpoint of the tabernacles of the Lord of Hosts. They can sing in the winepress when they see the wine of the life of heaven pressed out of them in life blessing the souls of men, and know that He who trod the winepress alone for their sakes is satisfied.

There is a psalm to sing in the winepress! And what do they sing? “How lovely are Your tabernacles, O Lord of hosts! My soul longs, yes, even faints for the courts of the Lord.” When earth is darkest in the winepress, then heaven is opened, and God becomes all in all. And they sing, these sons of the Cross, of the blessedness of the one whose strength is in God and not in circumstances, or man-made helps and props. The Hebrew word means “might” “or endurance.” Blessed is the man whose endurance is in God!

“Behold, we count them happy which endure,” writes the Apostle. “You have heard of the endurance of Job, and have seen the end intended by the Lord.” (James 5:11). Yes, happy Job, that he had strength to endure until the hour came when his captivity was turned, and he received of the Lord twice as much as he had before. “For the end intended by the Lord” is double for all the pain of the winepress, and the length of the time in the winepress is the measure of the power of endurance which the soul has in God, and the foreshadowing of the “double blessing” which will come forth in winepress blessing to others.

And they sing; yes, they sing, these sons of the Cross, when they find that in the winepress their hearts have been “melted like wax in the midst” of them (Psalm 22:14), and how the old selfish dross has passed away, and their once closed hearts are now opened to the sorrows of others. The narrow bounds of sympathy and love are broken, but enlarged and open to the needs of a dying world.

Oh, the closed hearts among the people of God. Oh, the high walls, over which none can leap, surrounding their sympathy and love! Is it not worth being trodden in the winepress to have the “exterior of the grape” bruised and broken, if thereby the wine of the love of God can be freed in its outlet to a world more in need of love and sympathy than preaching?

But more than all, the sons of the Cross can sing in the winepress valley, because there they find that they themselves have become a place of springs for the water of life to others. They have sought with earnest longings to be channels for rivers of living water to flow out to others, and they have believed and believed, but still these rivers did not flow. At last, the secret was revealed. They found themselves one day in the winepress, and then the rivers flowed!

“If you are the Son of God, come down from the Cross,” they cried, “Come down from the Cross.” Come out of the winepress. No, how then would the rivers flow? “Sons of the Cross” must press on in following the Lamb until they become a place of springs and a channel for rivers of living water to flow.