Monday, September 19, 2005

Review: The Bruised Reed by Richard Sibbes

Jesus Christ, the Son of God and the second person of the Trinity, is presented in Scripture as an inescapably fearful figure. The vision of Him that John records at the beginning of Revelation left John on his face as though dead, and considering Christ as the great Judge who will destroy His enemies at the last day has caused many more men to be utterly abased and driven to despair. But, strangely, gloriously, Jesus is also the Comforter, the Wonderful Counselor and Good Shepherd who is wondrously tender with His sheep. It is this tender, comforting side of Christ’s nature that Richard Sibbes is primarily concerned with meditating on in The Bruised Reed, and it is indeed a wonderful meditation.

Sibbes’ text is from Isaiah 42:
Behold my servant, whom I uphold; mine elect, in whom my soul delighteth; I have put my spirit upon him: he shall bring forth judgment to the Gentiles. He shall not cry, nor lift up, nor cause his voice to be heard in the street. A bruised reed shall he not break, and the smoking flax shall he not quench: he shall bring forth judgment unto truth.


From this passage, and especially verse three, Sibbes elaborates beautifully on the person and offices of Christ as the Servant of God who treats His people with the utmost care as He sustains and purifies them, bringing forth “judgment unto truth.” The bruised reed, Sibbes says, represents a man who is in misery because of his sin and is despondent but for the hope he has in Christ. Christ will handle this person, bruised by his sin, gently, until through the misery he is purged of sin. Likewise, the smoking flax stands for a Christian in whom, though the flame of the Holy Spirit is kindled, it is weak, and the fumes of sin’s effects make him miserable. In the same way, Christ will not quench this believer, but will fan into flame the spark that he possesses until it grows and burns away all sinful impurities and he becomes a bright light shining forth the glory of God. As Jesus is so gently shepherding us, he is bringing forth the judgment of His gracious kingdom in us and through us, and one he will have brought it forth to victory and His kingdom will be consummated.

Everyone who struggles with sin—and that means every true believer—should find this book tremendously encouraging and comforting. There are times when each of us is in misery because of his own sin and its cancerous effects in our lives. In these times, we need more than anything else what Sibbes provides: a meditation on Christ and His work in our lives. Focusing on Christ, not on ourselves, is key to finding comfort and assurance when we feel particularly “bruised.”

Perhaps the only criticism that may justly be offered against The Bruised Reed is that it is not as narrowly exegetical as he seems to be at first blush, or as one would normally expect from a sermon. Sibbes lays out a wealth of comfort, encouragement, inspiration, and truth in these pages, but it is not always clear that it all comes from the Isaiah text. A great deal of the significance Sibbes finds in the images in this passage seem to be related to the meaning of the text primarily in an allegorical way, rather than literally or typologically. For example, his image of sparks (from the flax) by nature flying upwards as a symbol of the “Spirit of grace carry[ing] the soul heaven-ward and sett[ing] before us holy and heavenly aims,” does not seem to be the originally intended meaning of the passage. Additionally, some of the other passages he cites throughout the text don’t seem to closely support the point he intends them to make. For example, he uses 1 Corinthians 3:17, making a point about a Christian being “a sacred thing,” when the context of the passage clearly indicates that it refers to the corporate body of the church, not to individual Christians.

For all this inexact application and occasional stretching the meaning of the text (and it is really a minor problem), the book is still packed chock-full of wonderful nuggets of truth that I will be meditating on for some time to come. One of the more helpful is a point that he makes throughout the book, speaking to the man who is so painfully aware of his sin that it makes him miserable, and causes him to question whether there really is any true faith and repentance in him. He says,
Fire, where it is present, is in some degree active. So the least measure of grace works, as springing from the Spirit of God, who, from his operations, is compared to fire. Even in sins, when there seems nothing active but corruption, there is a contrary principle, which breaks the force of sin, so that it is not boundlessly sinful, as in those that are carnal.

Even when sin is so hideously present that it seems to obscure all else—when the fire cannot be seen because of all the smoke—still we can find comfort in that the awareness of sin and conviction is itself an evidence of grace. Were there no Spirit within us—no fire—we would feel no conviction and misery—no smoke. So then, in some ways misery because of sin is something for which to thank God, because in it we know that He has given us new life and is busy refining us into the image of Christ, painful though the process may be.