Enoch Walked With God Genesis 5:22

Enoch Walked with God—Gen_5:22

The fifth chapter of Genesis is chiefly a list of names and ages—a genealogy that seems at the first view to offer little to engage the peculiar interest of the devout mind. But let us not be discouraged. Let us examine it closely. Lo, we are well rewarded. Here, hid among these names, is a sentence more precious than gold: “Enoch walked with God; and he was not, for God took him.” How this came to pass we know not, and we need not care to know. We know that God graciously removed him from the evil to come, and we know why—“He walked with God.” Well, then, what is this walking with God? Was this a peculiar privilege of the antediluvian saints? We read but of two who “walked with God,” and these were both born before the flood. Enoch, he walked with God, and God took him; Noah, he walked with God, and God did not take him, but preserved him in the world when all else perished, and made him the second father of mankind. This, therefore, is surely a high privilege, being visited with such distinguished honor. Who is there among us that will not covet it, strive after it—and mourn for it, if it should prove to be among the honors of a past condition? 

But let us not mourn. This privilege is indeed ours—is as open to us as it was to the fathers before the flood—and is at this day as highly considered by God, as it was in times of old. And do not our hearts burn within us to know this? Do we not instantly resolve to gird our pilgrim loins, and walk with God for the rest of our life’s rough and troubled way? Alas! too many of us have small care about it. Too many of us hear with but languid interest, with but half-concealed indifference, that it may be our privilege to walk with God as truly as Enoch walked, as truly as Noah walked, with Him.

And is it an easy matter to walk with God? Alas! nothing of the spiritual life is easy to the proud natural heart of man; but when the Spirit of God has made that heart soft, to walk with God is an easy and a pleasant thing; and to tread the rough paths of the world by his side, and under his protection and upholding grace, becomes the highest and most cherished privilege of our pilgrim state.

And what, then, is it to walk with God? If thou art a father, take thy little son by the hand and walk forth with him upon the breezy hills. As that little child walks with thee, so do thou walk with God. That child loves thee now. The world—the cold and cruel world—has not yet come between his heart and thine, and it may be hoped that it never will. His love now is the purest and most beautiful he will ever feel, or thou wilt ever receive. Cherish it well; and as that child walks lovingly with thee, so do thou walk lovingly with God.

But he walks humbly also. He looks up to thee as the greatest and the wisest man in the world—and in his world thou art such. He has not seen thee subject to the proud man’s contumely—he has not witnessed thy visage become pale before “the cold charities of man to man;” he comprehends not the foolishness of thy wisest things. He only knows thee in thy strength, where thou art lawgiver and king, and where thy master is far away. Thus conscious of thy greatness and unconscious of thy littleness, he walks humbly  with thee; and thus humbly as he walks, do thou walk with Him whose strength is real, for it can bear even the burden of thy sins; whose wisdom is real, for even thy foolishness cannot perplex it.

And thy little son has faith in thee—he walks confidingly with thee. The way may be long, and rough and trying—but he knows that if he wearies, his father can carry him through in his arms. The way may to his thought be dangerous; he deems that there may be evil beasts in the wood, or evil men by the road. But he fears not. He feels that his father’s strong arm is between him and all danger, and he believes that no harm can befall him by his father’s side. How happy is he, how free, how joyous in his trust in thee! The trials that perplex thy life are unfelt by him. The grief that rend thy heart touch him but lightly. Thou bearest all his burden. His life’s welfare rests upon thy going in, and thy coming out; and he knoweth it not. He needs not know it. He feels with unmisgiving faith, that thou art his shield, and rests in gleeful peace behind that broad protection which shuts out all care and thought of the rough world from his view. Thus confidingly as thy son walks with thee, walk thou with God. Believe that—

“Thou art as much His care, as if, beside,
No man or angel lived in heaven or earth.”
Believe of Christ that—
“On thee and thine, thy warfare and thine end,
Even in his hour of agony He thought.”

And believe that if thou walkest trustingly, and lovingly, and humbly with God—even as thy son walketh with thee—thou walkest with him as Enoch walked, and shalt not fail of as high a recompense.

There is no way of walking with God but as a little child. To the world we may offer a bold and resolute front, for there is much to try us, much to battle with there. But to God we can only turn with child-like trust and love, crying to Him in the certainty of his love, in reliance upon his power,  and in the humbleness of our hearts—“My father, thou art the guide of my youth!”

Furthermore, to walk with God as Enoch walked, is under all circumstances to realize His presence with us. When Moses asked of the Lord, “Show me thy way”—meaning the way the Lord would have him to go through the toilsome wilderness—what was the answer? Did he describe the way to him? No; but he told him something far better—“My Presence shall go with thee, and I will give thee rest.” What needed Moses to know more of the way than that? In all his walk and travel, God would be ever present with him, to guide all his steps—the light before him, the shade at his right hand. This was enough for Moses; and it is enough for us in our no less perilous journey through the waste, howling wilderness. If we walk with God, if we enjoy his presence in all our way, it is well with us—we are safe, we have rest. All men walk not alike with God. Some—

“Leap exulting like the bounding roe,”

in the joy of their hearts, and the fulness of their grace. Others move on with strong, but staid and steady pace; and some walk lamely, and struggle on with pain and labor; but they all walk—and if they keep God’s presence with them, they are all safe—for all walk with God.

Is not this in fact the test of one’s walk with God? To walk with God, is to walk as in God’s presence. If, therefore, the feeling that He is ever present with thee, that His eye is always upon thy heart, be a trouble and not a joy to thee, a terror and not a hope—there is ground for fear, that thou hast not yet attained to the blessedness of walking with God as Enoch walked, and as the saints in all ages have walked with him.