“I will remember the deeds of the Lord; yes, I will remember your wonders of old. I will ponder all your work and meditate on your mighty deeds. Your way, O God, is holy. What god is great like our God? You are the God who works wonders; you have made known your might among the people. You have, by your power, redeemed your people” (Psalm 77:11-15).
Nearly twenty times, the scriptures call us to meditate and ponder the mighty works of God. Here is where Christian meditation deviates from the meditation of Eastern Religions. Eastern meditation calls you to empty your mind and virtually contemplate nothing. Christian meditation is a call to quiet your heart and mind and then fill them with the wonders of God and His work on man’s behalf.
I know that the art of meditation is mostly lost in our day, for our days are filled with noise and activity and distractions galore. True meditation demands that we shut out the noises of the world for a season and fix our eyes and attention on Jesus.
As is my practice in the morning, I begin my devotions with the reading of several prayers written by the Puritans and published in a book titled The Valley of Vison. One of the prayers that I read this morning reminded me of my need to stop and ponder more deeply the work of Christ on the cross. All to often, I look at the cross and think salvation, when the cross purchased much more for you and me than just our salvation. The following words are taken from that prayer.
Christ was all anguish that I might be all joy,
Cast off that I might be brought in,
Trodden down as an enemy, that I might be welcomed as a friend,
Surrendered to hell’s worst that I might attain heaven’s best,
Stripped that I might be clothed,
Wounded that I might be healed,
Athirst that I might drink,
Tormented that I might be comforted,
Made a shame that I might inherit glory,
Entered darkness that I might have eternal light.
Wept that all tears might be wiped away from my eyes,
Groaned that I might have endless song,
Endured all pain that I might have unfading health,
Bore a thorny crown that I might have a glory-diadem,
Bowed his head that I might uplift mine,
Experienced reproach that I might receive welcome,
Closed his eyes in death that I might gaze on unclouded brightness,
My Savior expired that I might live forever.
Could we not take each one of those lines and spend many minutes pondering that facet of Christ’s sacrificial work on our behalf? When we do, the wonder of his blessed sacrifice on our behalf will begin to fill the recesses of our hearts and minds, leaving us in speechless adoration before his throne.