d man's joy in God.

We are solemnly warned by 'profound thinkers' of letting the shadow of
our emotions fall upon God. No doubt there is a real danger there; but
there is a worse danger, that of conceiving of a God who has no life and
heart; and it is better to hold fast by this--that in Him is that which
corresponds to what in us is gladness. We are often told, too, that the
Jehovah of the Old Testament is a stern and repellent God, and the
religion of the Old Testament is gloomy and servile. But such a
misconception is hard to maintain in the face of such words as these.
Zephaniah, of whom we know little, and whose words are mainly forecasts
of judgments and woes pronounced against Zion that was rebellious and
polluted, ends his prophecy with these companion pictures, like a gleam
of sunshine which often streams out at the close of a dark winter's day.
To him the judgments which he prophesied were no contradiction of the
love and gladness of God. The thought of a glad God might be a very
awful thought; such an insight as this prophet had gives a blessed
meaning to it. We may think of the joy that belongs to the divine nature
as coming from the completeness of His being, which is raised far above
all that makes of sorrow. But it is not in Himself alone that He is
glad; but it is because He loves. The exercise of love is ever
blessedness. His joy is in self-impartation; His delights are in the
sons of men: 'As the bridegroom rejoiceth over the bride, so shall thy
God rejoice over thee.' His gladness is in His children when they let
Him love them, and do not throw back His love on itself. As in man's
physical frame it is pain to have secretions dammed up, so when God's
love is forced back upon itself and prevented from flowing out in
blessing, some shadow of suffering cannot but pass across that calm sky.
He is glad when His face is mirrored in ours, and the rays from Him are
reflected from us.

But there is another wonderfully bold and beautiful thought in this
representation of the gladness of God. Note the double form which it
assumes: 'He will rest'--literally, be silent--'in His love; He will joy
over thee with singing.' As to the former, loving hearts on earth know
that the deepest love knows no utterance, and can find none. A heart
full of love rests as having attained its desire and accomplished its
purpose. It keeps a perpetual Sabbath, and is content to be silent.

But side by side with this picture of the r