Selected From: William Wilson, “Presence of Christ in the Meetings of His People,” in The Free Church Pulpit; Consisting of Discourses by the Most Eminent Divines of the Free Church of Scotland, Vol. III, Sermon CXXVI (New York: Robert Carter, 1848), 594–605.
“Where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.”
— Matt. 18:20
There are two things in the text that claim our attention. There is a promise, and a statement of the circumstances in which that promise will be realised. The promise is, “there am I in the midst of them.” The circumstances are, “where two or three are gathered together in my name.” Let us attend to these points in the order in which they have now been stated.
First of all, let us look to the promise: “There am I in the midst of them.” And upon this observe, first, that there is a certain sense in which it is true of Jesus, that he is present with all men and at all times. This is true of him in his divine nature, for it is essential to our very conceptions of that nature to believe it omnipresent. Jesus unites in his own person both the nature of God and the nature of man. As man, he once tabernacled on this earth, as man he is now seated at the right hand of the throne of God, and is present in the upper sanctuary and nowhere else. But before he appeared in fashion as a man, he had an existence—he was from eternity with God—he was God—and in this nature manifested the divine energies of the Godhead, for all things were created by him, and without him was not anything made that was made. In this nature he is everywhere present, and it is true of him what the Psalmist says of the Father, “Whither shall I go from thy Spirit, or whither shall I flee from thy presence. If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there; if I make my bed in hell, behold thou art there. If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me.” Wherever we are, then, by night or by day—whatever we do, or think, or speak, Jesus is a present observer of all. Nothing escapes his cognizance, and by thus searching all things, he becomes qualified for the discharge of that last grand duty which is devolved upon him as Mediator, to judge the world in righteousness. And it were well that we remembered continually that we are never hid from the presence of him who is now our witness, and will one day be our judge. He notes and records every unholy thought, every vile desire, every idle word, every wicked deed; he is in the midst of all men; very near each of them for this purpose; and when the throne shall be set, and the books opened, and the wrath of the Lamb displayed—the fearful scroll shall be unfolded in presence of the assembled universe, and secret things made known, and the memory of forgotten sins recalled, and the wicked sent to hell with all their sins engraven upon their souls, and brought to their everlasting remembrance.
It is very plain, however, that when Jesus gave to his disciples the promise contained in the text, he meant something different from that to which we have referred. There is a sense in which he is present with his people, in which he is not present with the world. And when in the text, Jesus gives the promise of his presence, he gives it not as something which they should dread and tremble at, but as that which was peculiarly fitted to comfort and animate them. It was in this sense that God of old time was present with his people in their journeying through the wilderness. He was with them as a guide in all the way, as a minister of their daily sustenance, as a shield against their most powerful enemies. It is the same kind of blessings which Jesus here promises to his people; even to be with them in all the way of their pilgrimage, to sustain, and comfort, and defend them, and to manifest himself unto them in another way than he does unto the world, to show them his glory and the power of his grace. When Jacob fled from his father’s house, fearing the anger of his brother, and set out on his distant journey with only his staff in his hand, he had this very promise fulfilled to him in some measure. When he lay down at eventide, under the open sky, and took of the stones of the place and made them his pillow, his soul was refreshed by sweet visions of the divine glory, and views of that ceaseless intercourse established between heaven and earth, in which the angels are ever ministering to the heirs of salvation; and the children of God, in their utmost destitution and abandonment, are made to know and feel that, though cast down, they are not forsaken, but that they have a mightier force on their side than all that can be against them. The Patriarch exclaimed when he arose, “Surely the Lord is in this place,” and he called the name of it Bethel—the house of God. Even so it is that Jesus is in the midst of his people now, and amply fulfills the promise of the text. Though no longer manifested in those outward palpable revelations of his grace and glory, fitted to that state of the Church in which faith had less to rest upon, he gives to his people a sweet consciousness of his abiding presence, which is not the less true and soul-satisfying that it is invisible. He gives the soul a nearness of access unto himself—draws forth its desires, and inflames them with admiration and love—exhibits his own infinite graces, and beauty, and fulness—opens the eye of faith to behold his unspeakable preciousness—brings into the mind the sayings of his holy word, with such sweet consciousness of their truth, that their hearts burn within them as they talk with him—enlarges and purifies their affections, and pours into them the refreshing streams of his own love, and thus establishes and maintains a communion with himself all the more near and intimate, that it is directly with the inner man, at once melting the soul with the glow of his love, and awing it to humble reverence by the exhibition of his glory.
Still farther, the promise implies a readiness on the part of Christ to do for his people what they ask. This will be at once apparent if we examine, for a moment, the connection of the text with the preceding verse. The statement in the text, indeed, is given as a reason why the disciples should rely with confidence on the promise made to them. “Again, I say unto you, that if two of you shall agree on earth, as touching anything that they shall ask, it shall be done for them of my Father which is in heaven; for where two or three are met together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.” That is to say, you may rest perfectly certain that your requests shall be attended to and fulfilled by my Father, for I am present to hear them offered, and in discharge of my mediatorial service, I present them before the throne on high; the Father heareth me always, and the prayers of my people shall not be disappointed. It is plain then that the promise of the text is one of assistance, that it includes the idea of Christ’s presence as Mediator, and prevailing intercessor, making known the wants of his people, pouring them into the ear of the Father, and obtaining, on the ground of his own merit, a favourable answer to all their requests. It may easily be conceived what confidence and gladness such a promise was fitted to convey to the minds of those to whom first it was uttered. They had forsaken all for Christ, and were following him as the Good Shepherd; and from what they had observed and experienced, both of his power and condescending love, it needed no more than the promise of his abiding presence to communicate to them the assurance that whatever their future lot might be—whatever the exigencies of their condition—they would be aided and delivered in such a way as at once to exhibit the grace and beneficence of his own nature, and to convey to them that efficient help which they required. And not less comforting is the promise to the disciples of Jesus now, for it is the very object and design of his presence in the midst of them, at the same time to direct and to fulfill their desires, insomuch that, when any two of them shall agree on earth as touching anything that they shall ask, it shall be done for them, or by them, either in their standing still and seeing the salvation of God, or in their being made more than conquerors through him that loved them.
But again, the whole richness of the promise has not yet been unfolded. There is something like an emphasis in the way in which it is written, and the peculiar form of expression is not devoid of significance. I am “in the midst” of them. Jesus is not merely beside his people, observing their condition, and ready to tender his aid in their difficulties. He is not only manifested as near to them all, to inspire them with confidence and hope. He is in the very midst of them, mingled with the assembly, and equally near to every person who composes it. And this naturally suggests the thought and confirms the doctrine that Jesus is not only with his people for the purpose of examining into their wants, and conferring upon them those blessings of his salvation which are common to all believers, but moreover, that with tender consideration, he regards the utterances of every individual heart, and makes the outgoings of his benevolence not merely commensurate to their expressed desires, but confers upon each those special graces which are fitted at once to sweeten the spiritual intercourse of the soul with himself, and to enrich it with those divine ornaments which shall best display the lustre of his own glory. He will not break the bruised reed, nor quench the smoking flax. It is his delightful office to “lift up the hands that hang down, and to confirm the feeble knees.” It is the part of him who is meek and lowly in heart to “appoint unto them that mourn, beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, and the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness.” It is his to say to the timid soul, “fear not, for I am with thee, be not dismayed, for I am thy God;” to those who are tempted, to whisper the glad assurance, “my grace is sufficient for thee, my strength is perfect in weakness.” It is his to shew to the ignorant the treasures of his wisdom, and to say of the backsliding penitent, “bring forth for him the fairest robe, and let the fatted calf be killed, for this my son was dead and is alive, he was lost, and is found.” For every diversity of condition in which his people are placed, Jesus has something appropriate to bestow, and he is in the midst of them for the very purpose of providing for their special wants, and soothing the diseases, and healing the plagues of every soul. Confide, then, O believer, in this merciful Saviour, “in whom dwelleth all the fulness of the Godhead.” Open up your hearts to communion with him. Let him know your spiritual diseases—fear not to express to him your heart’s desires—and all your plagues shall be healed, and your souls filled with peace and joy unspeakable. And is it really so that this promise is in course of daily fulfillment among Christ’s people? It were worthwhile, as the best test and assurance of it, to examine the feelings, and to ascertain the supplies given to an assembly of sincere worshippers. Suppose for a moment that we were gifted with a power of vision into the inner chambers of thought, and that we could see an assembly of disciples as they are presented to the eye of omniscience—that we were cognizant of the thoughts which occupy the mind, and the degree in which these operate upon the affections—and that we could notice the outgoings of the various desires of every heart, and measure the degree of their intensity, then beyond doubt we would also perceive the outpourings of the Divine beneficence—to every soul its measure—for every desire its appropriate counterpart presented—and to the intently directed thought visions of heavenly truth opened up as intimate, and satisfying, and subduing, as those which prophets and holy men of old were privileged to enjoy. Nay, without supposing this unattainable spectacle of the spiritual world, is there not presented to our common everyday observation, if we would but notice it, an abundant confirmation of the promise before us? Let but two persons, differently circumstanced, speak over their individual experiences after leaving the assembly of saints, and the faithfulness of Jesus to his promise would become at once apparent. The same truths have been presented to all, and in the same form—the same desires have been expressed in prayer—the same thanksgivings uttered, yet how infinitely varied are the results produced! Even on the supposition that all are believers, and that Jesus has been giving something to all, sending none empty away, how diverse the gifts he has through the same instrumentality bestowed! One soul, according to its need and its capacity, has laid firm hold of one truth, on which it rests and in which it rejoices—another has obtained a new view of the infinite grace and beauty of Jesus, and is ravished with the contemplation of it, and so throughout all the diversity of human condition—according to the temptations, the distresses, the capacities of each, it has been found that Jesus has been ministering his varied gifts. The like figure to this we have presented to us in the processes of the vegetable world. In a garden, the trees of various kinds, the bushes, the vegetables, the flowers, have all outwardly and visibly the same kind of nourishment supplied to them—they are all planted in the same soil—they are all refreshed by the same showers—warmed by the same sun—fanned by the same breezes, yet how diversified the results, and how gloriously do the wisdom, and power, and beneficence of God shine forth in them! He fits each for the reception of those ingredients suited to its nature—endows each with the power of elaborating and assimilating these—and supplies each with its appropriate nourishment. Even so it is with Jesus in the midst of his people. He distributes to every one of them the portion they require—those gifts which fit them for the place they are designed to fill, and the purpose which in the kingdom of grace, they are intended to serve. And all this he accomplishes through the same outward instrumentality.
Nor must it be forgotten that all this divine operation, whereby an infinitely varied supply is afforded, and results equally glorious and harmonious are produced—each member being fitted for its own special office—it must not be forgotten that all this is directly spiritual, and that there is throughout a twofold operation carried on. For not only is Jesus in the midst of his people—standing, as it were, close beside every soul, and with untiring beneficence conferring upon it a suitable provision, but that Jesus is also in every believer—within the sanctuary of his heart, creating within it, and enabling it to put forth its gracious affections—transforming it by moulding it with his hand—enlarging its capacities, and fitting them for the reception of heavenly nourishment. This also is involved in the promise of the text, and this view of it is what constitutes its chief preciousness. For what were it to the dead to mock them with the offer of food, of which they had no power, and could have no desire to partake? But Jesus is in the midst of his people. He comes knocking at the door of their hearts, soliciting a welcome admission, and gaining access through the power of his own grace—he controls and directs all their thoughts within them—and sends forth those far-reaching desires which enter into that which is within the veil. And it is of importance to bear in mind that this promised presence of Jesus is not transient and temporary—is not reserved for some rare and solemn occasions. The expression of the text is very emphatic. I am in the midst of them—a much more decisive statement than if it had been expressed in the future—I shall be with you. For it amounts to this: In the circumstances described, you may be assured there shall be no room for expectant and anxious hope. It is always a present truth. I am with them. In no age of the world, in no country shall this be untrue. My presence shall anticipate hope. Nowhere shall my people be gathered together in my name but it is true concerning them at that time and in these circumstances that I am in the midst of them. Behold then, how very rich is the promise of the text—a promise that endureth forever—a promise boundless in its reach and amplitude! How may we attain its realization? Under what circumstances shall it be fulfilled in our experience? Let us now therefore enquire into the second thing proposed, and endeavour to discover the circumstances under which we may surely expect the fulfillment of this rich and divine promise, “When two or three are gathered together in my name.”
It is obvious from the context that the promise has a special and primary application to the office-bearers of Christ’s Church, when gathered together for the exercise of Church government. But while this is plainly the primary and special application of the text, it cannot be doubted that it was given forth for the direction and comfort of the disciples in the widest sense of the term, and that the promise it contains may be laid hold of in faith by all assemblies of Christ’s people. And in this view I remark, first, that the promise is made to disciples. This is obvious from its connection with the preceding verse, in which the answer to united and believing prayer is promised to two of them, i.e., of the disciples, harmonizing in their sentiments, and from the heart sending up to God the same requests. The two or three in the text are just the same class of persons, for it is stated as the very ground on which their prayers will be answered that, “Jesus is in the midst of them,” giving efficacy to all their petitions, and acceptance to all their services, by his own infinite worth, and his all-prevalent intercession. And when we consider this, is there not plainly discovered to us at least one reason why our solemn assemblies in the house of prayer are so little blessed? Outwardly, indeed, all are there as disciples, but how very little is there of the spirit of discipleship—of looking to Jesus for light, comfort, peace, purity, the effusion of every grace! Outwardly all assume the reverent attitude of prayer, but how little is there of real oneness of heart, and faith, and hope, touching those things which they shall ask of God! And now we complain not so much of that mere cold formalism so extensively prevalent, which induces men to draw near to God with the mouth, and honour him with the lips, while the heart is far from him. Our complaint is that the prayers of the sanctuary are not joined in, even as a matter of form. Its language enters into the ear, but it provokes no gracious desire heavenward. It is heard, not joined in. It may be the prayer of the minister, it is not the prayer of the people. They do not unite together in it, and hence it brings down no liberal response from heaven. How changed would the aspect and the enjoyments of our assemblies be, if this soul-starving habit were altogether abandoned; if, as disciples of a common Lord, we were with one accord in one place; if the utterance of every petition from the minister brought forth the image and echo of itself from the souls of all the people, so that the desires should not be his but theirs also—the prayer not an utterance for them, but an utterance by them—united hearts sending up one common petition. It is not a groundless imagination, but one of the most sober and well-grounded realities of faith in such circumstances, to expect the revival of the glorious days of Pentecost. Indeed, amid all the faithlessness and carnality of Christ’s disciples, there is left to us so much at least of the experimental proof of the truth embodied in the text, as to satisfy us of this. There are, perhaps in every congregation, more or fewer who in some measure fulfill the conditions of the promise, who meet together as disciples. And to them Christ proves his faithfulness. The assembly is the most delightful place of resort to them, for it is their meeting place with Christ. They feel it to be refreshing and profitable for their souls. They receive out of Christ’s exhaustless stores. It is seldom that the Sabbath is to them a day lost, and if there be such times of drought and barrenness, none are so prepared to admit as they, that they have lost a precious opportunity; not because Christ is faithless, but because they have not met as disciples. Nor does the experience of others afford less convincing proof of the faithfulness of Christ to his promise. The Sabbath is to them a weariness. They go to the house of God with listless minds, with hearts hardened and encrusted with worldly cares, and they return home more wearied than they went. So much time has been passed over, but it has been time wasted. Jesus has not been beside them, they have not seen him in his holy place, nor have they tasted of his grace. But wherefore? They have not gone up to the assembly as disciples; they have not waited there in that character. They have gone in obedience to the claims of custom, without faith and without hope, and they have been sent empty away. They have not taken any part in the services of the sanctuary, and they have not been made partakers of its blessings. They have presented their bodies before the Lord, but the text contains no promise of carnal blessings. It is with the soul that God has to do in all its thoughts and affections. And were the investigation made, whether the thoughts, and desires, and hopes, and fears of such men were gathered within the sanctuary, and waiting in patient expectation upon God, we would find that, so far from the circumstances being realized in which we might expect the fulfillment of the promise, these seeming disciples of Jesus who have been visibly brought together, were in reality each eagerly pursuing his worldly avocations—the merchant engaged in his busy traffic, and the labourer anticipating the renewal of his toil. What fearful mockery is this of the Divine omniscience? Does it not cease to be wonderful that there should be so little realization of the Divine promises? Is it not altogether amazing that there should not be upon us the visitation of destructive wrath?
But when we say that Christ’s promise in the text is to disciples, it is needful to guard against the inference that it is vain for others to wait upon his ordinances. Christ, it is true, has said that he is in the midst of his disciples, but this, so far from excluding others from such an assembly, contains an ample encouragement for them to come. Christ is there—preeminently, peculiarly, powerfully, graciously there. This is the very place then to meet him, and to behold his glory and the power of his grace. Christ is in the midst of his disciples to strengthen and refresh them; he is there to convince and convert the unbeliever. The king is there with his quiver full of arrows; and it is there especially that he pierces the hearts of his adversaries. He is there to wound, that he may bind up and heal.
I remark, secondly, that in order to realize the riches of the promise, the disciples must be gathered together. It is true that there is no time and there are no circumstances, when Christ is absent from his people. His promise is, “Lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the world.” He is not only beside his people, but dwelling in them by his Spirit. Their bodies are temples of the Holy Ghost. And it is most comforting and blissful to know that we are called upon to undertake no duty, to endure no trial in which we have not the assurance of Christ’s presence and aid. He dwelleth with us, and shall be in us. But he has given special promises to the congregation of his disciples, and from what we read of the experience of the saints of old, as well as from what has come within the range of our own observation, we are entitled to conclude that it is within his house, and in the assembly of his saints, that he makes the clearest manifestations of his glory, and pours forth the richest effusions of his grace. Hear, for example, the testimony of David, “How amiable are thy tabernacles, O Lord of Hosts! My soul longeth, yea, even fainteth for the courts of the Lord; my heart and my flesh crieth out for the living God. Blessed are they that dwell in thy house; they will be still praising thee,” (Ps. 84:1–4). “As the hart panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God. My soul thirsteth for God, for the living God: when shall I come and appear before God? My tears have been my meat day and night, while they continually say unto me, Where is thy God? When I remember these things, I pour out my soul in me: for I had gone with the multitude, I went with them to the house of God, with the voice of joy and praise, with a multitude that kept holyday” (Ps. 42:1–4). It was manifestly as the result of his own personal experience that he declared, “The Lord loveth the gates of Zion more than all the dwellings of Jacob. Glorious things are spoken of thee, O city of God.” And now were our hearts but one in anticipation and in desire with that of the Psalmist, we would become possessed of the same experience, and now it as a joyful truth that the Lord loveth the gates of Zion. This place would soon become distinguished as the birthplace of souls, and also as that in which there was nearest access to God, and the brightest manifestation of his glory.
Now none of us, at least, are without the experience of having been often gathered together with the multitude that keep holyday, and go to the house of God. How does it stand with us in respect to the experimental fulfillment of the promise? Have we met with Christ? Has he been in the midst of us? Have we seen his power and his glory in the sanctuary? If not, the guilt is all on our side—it is all accumulated on our heads. And it is an overwhelming iniquity to have spent one profitless Sabbath within the courts of the Lord’s house. The king, by the proclamation of the text, has invited us to come and meet with him in his court, that he might make us partakers of his grace, and to show us all his riches and power, and we have slighted the invitation, and thus insulted his majesty and his goodness. There can be no doubt that Christ is there, and if we have not met him, and been satisfied with his presence, it is because we have not been there. Our bodies may have been, but our spirits have not waited upon him. And the communion of Christ with his people is that of spirit with spirit. The assembly spoken of in the text is not the gathering together of the outer framework, but of living spirits—the gathering in of the wandering thoughts—the subjugation of the unruly desires—the concentration of the mind—the summoning of all the faculties of our nature to a reverent waiting upon Jesus. To do this is to gather ourselves together, and when we do this, Christ is in the midst of us. To do otherwise is to mock Jesus with the show of worship.
But you will observe still farther that the disciples are not only to be gathered together, but to be gathered together in the name of Christ. Now, in order fully to understand what this means, consider for a moment what it is to pray in the name of Christ. It is to utter our requests in the full consciousness of our own infinite demerit—to confess that we can hope for and obtain nothing from God on our own account—to entertain full confidence in the merits of Jesus, and in the faithfulness of the covenant promises in him. It is to renounce ourselves, and to put on Christ—to hope for mercy only in him, as washed in his blood, and clothed with his righteousness. Again, when Peter, at the gate of the temple called Beautiful, said to the lame man, “In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk,” he was doing a work, to the performance of which he was himself utterly incompetent. His word had power, because the Spirit of Christ was within him, and he did the miracle in the name of Christ, just to declare that this was a manifestation of the grace and power of Jesus, and not of his own, that he was able to do it just because Christ was in him, and working through him. In the same sense you are to understand the general exhortation, “Whatsoever ye do, in word or in deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus.” For as we find this exhortation exemplified in the life of the Apostle, we perceive that whatever he did, he did it through Christ strengthening him. We find him even declaring that he had no life of his own—that everything he did and said and thought was so much Christ’s, that it was to be disavowed and disowned as his own. “Yet not I, but Christ liveth in me, and the life which I now lead in the flesh is by faith in the Son of God, who love me, and gave himself for me.” Thus, then, we are led to perceive what is the meaning of gathering together in the name of Christ. We are to come as led by his grace, and under the constraining power of his love. We are to come before God as guilty and deserving only of wrath—hoping in Christ—cleaving to Christ—covered by Christ. “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets, and stonest them that are sent unto thee, how often would I have gathered thee as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings.” We are to gather under the wings of Christ—as acceptable only in him—we are to speak and hear his words—looking to him as made of God unto us wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption. Hence you will perceive the whole of the gracious meaning embodied in the text. It is a declaration on the part of Christ that all which is needed in order to obtain the manifestation to us of his glory—his efficient and never-failing help—the communication of the graces which each one of his people severally require—in order to have him dwelling in us in all the constraining and elevating influence of his Spirit—in order to our being made partakers of the fulness of the blessings of his purchase; all that is needed is, not that we should make ourselves worthy of his favour, but to receive freely of his exhaustless stores. He is in the midst of us, anticipating as it were every wish, and going beyond the compass of our desires and expectations; he is there even before we call him, and answers while we are yet speaking, if only we come as disciples and gather ourselves in his name. There can be no doubt that he will take us—adopt—cherish—glorify us; all the difficulty and hindrance is overcome when we have taken him. He did not hesitate and draw back from us—the reluctance is all on our part. When we have gathered together in his name, he is already in the midst of us. And then observe for a moment how the connection between Christ’s abiding presence and the reception of all heavenly blessings is brought out in the text. It shall be done for them of my Father who is in heaven, for where two or three are gathered together in my name, I am in the midst of them. When Jehovah looks on such an assembly, he is well pleased for his righteousness sake. He sees not them, but him who is in the midst of them. He regards them in the face of his anointed. They become objects of his infinite complacency as in Christ. He is well pleased with the Son, and therefore with them. All Christ’s beauty and merit is theirs, and all the love of the Father to the Son becomes theirs. Here then we discover the secret source of all the believer’s privileges and enjoyments. These all come to him through Christ, and as he is abiding in Christ. He has Christ’s name upon him, and Christ’s Spirit within him, and hence the Father accomplishes for him in all things needful now, and will crown him with glory hereafter.
