You have been praying, I see, for the Holy Spirit to open your eyes, to let you know the hope into which you have been called, the riches of Christ’s inheritance in you, and the surpassing greatness of His power toward those who believe. That is no small request; it is, in fact, the very sunrise of the soul. Do you think the Lord is reluctant to grant such a prayer? Far from it. The Father who gave you His Son will not withhold the Spirit who makes that Son real to your heart. When a child asks for bread, he does not receive a stone; how much more will your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that ask Him.
Sometimes you may feel as though you are standing in the outer court, straining to catch a glimpse of what is inside the veil. You read of the hope, the riches, the power, and they seem like far-off mountains, glorious, but not quite yours. Yet listen: in that heavenly temple which is open to faith, what do you think is the one thing to be seen? Not an angry throne, not a stern demand, but “the ark of his covenant.” That ark is Jesus Christ, the covenant Surety, in whom all the promises are yes and amen. He is the mercy-seat where God meets you without wrath. To know God is to know Him there, in the face of Jesus, where every attribute is perfectly balanced, mercy attended by justice, love accompanied by holiness. The Spirit’s work is to turn your eyes away from your own dim thoughts and fix them on that living, loving Christ, until you see that you are not merely a servant but a son, not merely a subject but part of his bride, his body, the fullness of him who fills all in all.
And you have asked to know the hope of His calling. That hope is not a maybe, a perhaps, a thin wish trembling on a spider’s thread. It is an anchor sure and steadfast, entering into that within the veil. When God calls a man, He calls him with a purpose that went forth from eternity, and the end of it is as certain as the throne of heaven. The hope is Christ in you, the assurance of glory. It is a hope that does not blush to be examined, for it is built on the rock of his finished work. You may not always feel its brightness; you may have your seasons of dullness, even of weeping. But the Lord knows how to turn your mourning into gladness. Those tears that fall in penitence are the very dew that prepares your spirit to take the radiant color of his comfort. The clear shining comes after rain, and then the birds sing among the dripping branches as they never did before.
The riches of his inheritance in the saints, that is a deep wonder. You look at yourself and see weakness, poverty, much that is unworthy. But the Lord looks at you and sees the purchase of his Son’s blood, the jewels of his crown, the portion he has chosen for himself. He rejoices over you to do you good, and he does it with his whole heart. There is a special, distinguishing love that he has set upon his people, a love not cold and general, but warm, personal, and full of solicitous care. Even a poor apostle in a Roman dungeon was not forgotten: the Lord moved him to ask for a cloak to warm his bones, and books to cheer his soul. If the Lord cares for the body and the mind of his servant, how much more for the deep needs of your spirit? He who provided the greater gift of his Son will not leave you without the lesser gift of knowing him better.
Perhaps what you crave most today is to know that exceeding greatness of his power, the power that raised Christ from the dead and set him far above all principality and might. You know the truth of it in your head, but you long to feel the throb of it in your own experience. Consider this: that same power is toward you who believe. It did not exhaust itself at the resurrection. It flows into every believing soul as truly as the sap rises into the branch. When you cannot move the mountain of your trouble, when your own strength is dried up like a potsherd, then is the time for his power to rest upon you. He is your rock, immovable and unchanging. The frosts of sorrow cannot split that granite; the heat of trial cannot melt it. Stand on that rock and you stand where you may look down on the world as a little thing, and even see across the storms of time to the bright land beyond.
Do not imagine that such knowledge is reserved for a few favored saints far above you. The very promise is given to those who, like you, hunger for it. “I will give them a heart to know me, that I am Jehovah.” He does not merely offer the knowledge; he gives the heart to receive it. The Spirit searches the deep things of God and reveals them to babes. He takes of the things of Christ and shows them to us. So be of good courage, and do not let unbelief close what faith has begun to open. The same hand that broke the bars of death will gently draw aside the curtains of your ignorance, and let you see the King in his beauty.
The Lord cause his face to shine upon you. May the Spirit of wisdom so possess your inner man that Christ may dwell in your heart by faith, until you are rooted and grounded in love, able to comprehend with all saints what is the breadth, and length, and depth, and height, and to know the love of Christ that passes knowledge, that you might be filled with all the fullness of God. Unto him be glory in the church by Christ Jesus throughout all ages, world without end. Amen.