That seems, at first sight, a somewhat infelicitous symbol, because manna was wilderness food. But that characteristic is not to be taken into account. Manna, though it fell in the wilderness, came from heaven, and it is the heavenly food that is suggested by the symbol. When the warrior passes from the fight into the city, the food which came down from heaven will be given to him in fulness. It is a beautiful thought that as soon as the man, spent with changing blows,' and weary with conflict, enters the land of peace, there is a table spread for him; not, as before, in the presence of his enemies,' but in the presence of the companions of his repose. One moment hears the din of the battlefield, the next moment feels the refreshment of the heavenly manna.
But now there can be little need for dealing, by way of exposition, with this symbol. Let us rather try to lay it upon our hearts.
Now the first thing that it plainly suggests to us is the absolute satisfaction of all the hunger of the heart. It is possible, and for those that overcome it will one day be actual experience, that a man shall have everything that he wishes the moment that he wishes it. Here we have to suppress desires, sometimes because they are illegitimate and wrong, sometimes because circumstances sternly forbid their indulgence. There, to desire willbe to have, and partly by the rectifying of the appetite, partly by the fulness of the supply, there will be no painful sense of vacuity, and no clamouring of the unsubdued heart for good that is beyond its reach. They--and you and I may be amongst them, and so we may say we'--shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more.' Oh, brethren! To us who are driven into activity by desires, half of which go to water and are never fulfilled--to us who know what it is to try to tame down the hungering, yelping wishes and longings of our souls--to us who have so often spent our money for that which is not bread, and our labour for that which satisfieth not,' it ought to be a Gospel: I will give him to eat of the hidden manna.' Is it such to you? Do you believe it possible, and are you addressing yourselves to make the fulfilment of it actual in your case?
Then there is the other plain thing suggested here, that that satisfaction does not dull the edge of appetite or desire. Bodily hunger is fed, is replete, wants nothing more until the lapse of time and digestion have intervened. But it is not so with the loftiest satisfactions. There are some select, noble, blessed desires even here, concerning which we know that the more we have, the more we hunger with a hunger which has no pain in it, but is only the greatened capacity for greater enjoyment. You that know what happy love is know what that means--a satisfaction which never approaches satiety, a hunger which has in it no gnawing. And in the loftiest and most perfect of all realms, that co-existence of perfect fruition and perfect desire will be still more wondrously and blessedly manifest. At each moment the more we have, the wider will our hearts be expanded by possession, and the wider they are expanded the more will they be capable of receiving, and the more they are capable of receiving the more deep and full and blessed and all-covering will be the inrush of the river of the water of life. Satisfaction without satiety, food which leaves him blessedly appetised for larger bestowments, belong to the victor.
Another thing to be noticed here is what we have already had occasion to point out in the previous promises: I will give him.' Do you remember our Lord's own wonderful words: Blessed are those servants, whom the Lord when He cometh shall find watching: verily I say unto you, that He shall gird Himself, and shall come forth and serve them'? The victor is seated at the board, and the Prince, as in some earthly banquet to a victorious army, Himself moves up and down amongst the tables, and supplies the wants of the guests. There was an old Jewish tradition, which perhaps may have influenced the form of this promise, to the effect that the Messiah, when He came, would bring again to the people the gift of the manna, and men should once more eat angels' food. Whether there is any allusion to that poetic fancy or no in the words of my text, the reality infinitely transcends it. Christ Himself bestows upon His servants the sustenance of their spirits in the realm above. But there is more than that. Christ is not only the Giver, but He is Himself the Food. I believe that the deepest meaning of this sevenfold cluster of jewels, the promises to these seven Churches, is in each case Christ. He is the Tree of Life; He is the Crown of Life, He is --as well as gives--the hidden manna.' You will remember how He Himself gives us this interpretation when, in answer to the Jewish taunt, Our fathers did eat manna in the wilderness. What dost Thou work?' He said, I am that Bread of God that came down from heaven.'
So, then, once more, we come back to the all-import-ant teaching that, whatever be the glories of the perfected flower and fruit in heaven, the gem and root of it is already here. The man who lives upon the Christ by faith, love, obedience, imitation, communion, aspiration, here on earth, has already the earnest of that feast. No doubt there will be aspects and sweetnesses and savours and sustenance in the heavenly form of our possession of, and living on, Him, which we here on earth know nothing about. But no doubt also the beginning and positive degree of all these sweetnesses and savours and sustenance's yet to be revealed is found in the experience of the man who has listened to the cry of that loving voice, Eat, and your souls shall live'; and has taken Jesus Christ Himself, the living Person, to be not only the source but the nourishment of his spiritual life.
So, brethren, it is of no use to pretend to ourselves that we should like--as they put it in bald, popular language--to' go to heaven,' unless we are using and relishing that of heaven which is here to-day. If you do not like the earthly form of feeding upon Jesus Christ, which is trusting Him, giving your heart to Him, obeying Him, thinking about Him, treading in His footsteps, you would not like, you would like less, the heavenly form of that feeding upon Him. If you would rather have the strong-smelling garlic and the savoury leeks--to say nothing about the swine's trough and the husks--than this light bread,' the angels' food,' which your palates cannot stand and your stomachs cannot digest, you could not swallow it if it were put into your lips when you get beyond the grave; and you would not like it if you could. Christ forces this manna into no man's mouth; but Christ gives it to all who desire it and are fit for it. As is the man's appetite, so is the man's food; and so is the life that results therefrom.
