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THE ANCHOR OF THE SOUL
AND OTHER SERMONS.
^!©ctrks bu the same Sluthor.
LAIVS FROM HEAVEN FOR LIFE ON EARTH. Complete ix
otie Toliiine. Croiv7i Svo, cloth. Price ys. 6cl.
THE PARABLES OF OWE LORD. Cro7vn Svo, cloth. Pricr js. 6d.
THE
ANCHOR OF THE SOUL
<^nl) ©titer <§crinans.
BY THE
REV. WILLIAM '"ARNOT,
AUTHOR OF "laws FROM HEAV^EN FOR LIFE ON EARTH," ETC.
^^^^^
•r
LONDON:
T. NELSON AND SONS, PATERNOSTER ROW;
EDINBURGH ; AND NEW YORK.
/C^?.vy or m,
AP,7 3
This Volume consists of Sermons selected from Mr.
Arnot'S MSS. His family wish it to be stated that
only one or two of them had been revised by himself
for publication. The others are issued on the responsi-
bility of friends who believe that they will be welcomed
throughout the Christian Church.
December 1875.
C2 }) l:l^H^
/<^'-
AP,7
CONTENTS.
I. THE ANCHOR OF THE SOU I, ... .- ... ... 9
II. HE STOOD AND CRIED, ... ... ... ... 23
III. HE SHALL GLORIFY ME, ... ... ... ... 38
IV. HE SHALL BE SATISFIED, ... ... ... . . 52
V. THE FIRST PROMISE, ... ... ... ... fi«
VI. PRAYER WITH THANKSGIVING, ... ... ... 82
VII. LAZARUS IS DEAD, ... ... ... ... ... 95
VIIL THE SOURCE OF CHRISTIAN LOVF, ... ,., ... 112
IX. HE KNEW WHAT WAS IN MAN, ... ,., ... 125
X. GOD KNOWN AS A REFUGE, ... ... ... ... i3'S
XL JESUS IS RISEN, ... ... ... ... ... i57
XII. I WILL SING OF MERCY AND JUDGMENT, ... ... 168
XriL NECESSITY IS LAID UPON ME, ... ... ... 182
XIV. THE TWO BAPTISMS, ... ... ... ... 197
XV. A pilgrim's PROGRESS, ... ... ... ... 212
XVL HIMSELF HE CANNOT SAVE, ... ... ... ... 229
XVIL THE CLEANSING BLOOD, ... ... ... ... 2|4
XVIIL THE ACCEPTABLE YEAR OF THE LORD, ... ... 2^0
XIX. WHO KNOCKS? ... ... ... ... ... 2/4
vni
CONTENTS.
XX. THE TWO TABERNACLES,
XXI. FRUITFUL IN EVERY GOOD WORK,
XXIL WHERE ARE THE NINE?
XXIIL IN THIS THY DAY, ...
XXIV. THE THREE KINGS, ...
28a
29S
314
324
34c
I.
^ke c^nchcr of th^ §0x11.
*' Which hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and stedfast, and
which entereth into that within the veil." — Hebrews vi. 19.
IN the margin of the ocean that surrounds and
laves our island home, an object of absorbing
interest may often be observed, — a ship riding
at anchor near a lee shore in an angry sea. She has
drifted, ere she was aware, too near a rock-bound coast :
the wind is blowing direct on shore : there is not room
to tack : whether she should point her prow north or
south, she will strike a projecting headland ere she can
escape from the bay. One resource remains, — to anchor
where she is till the wind change.
There she lies. Stand on this height and look down
upon her through the drifting spray. I scarcely know in
nature a more interesting or more suggestive sight. The
ship is dancing on the waves : she appears to be in their
power and at their mercy. Wind and water combine to
make her their sport. Destruction seems near ; for if the
vessel's hull is dashed by these waves upon the rocks of
lo THE ANCHOR OF THE SOUL.
the coast, it will be broken into a thousand pieces. But
you have stood and looked on the scene a while, and the
ship still holds her own. Although at first sight she
seemed the helpless plaything of the elements, they have
not overcome — they have not gained upon her yet. She
is no nearer destruction than when you first began to
gaze in anticipation of her fate.
The ship seems to have no power to resist the onset of
wind and wave. She yields to every blast and every
billow. This moment she is tossed aloft on the crest of
a wave, and the next she sinks heavily into the hollow.
Now her prow goes down beneath an advancing breaker,
and she is lost to view in the spray ; but anon she
emerges, like a sea-fowl shaking the water from her wings
and rejoicing in the tumult. As she quivered and nodded
giddily at each assault, you thought, when first you
arrived in sight, that every moment would prove her last ;
but now that you have watched the conflict long, it begins
to assume in your mind another aspect, and promise
another end. These motions of the ship now, instead of
appearing the sickly movements of the dying, seem to
indicate the calm, confident perseverance of conscious
strength and expected victory. Let winds and waves da
their worst, that ship will meet them fearless, will hold
her head to the blast, and maintain her place in defiance
of their power.
What is the secret of that ship's safety.? No other
ship is in sight to which she may cling : no pillar stands
within reach to which she may be moored. The bond
THE ANCHOR OF THE SOUL. ii
of her security is a line that is unseen. The ship is at
anchor. The Hne on which she hangs does not depend
on the waters, or anything that floats there ; it goes
through the waters, and fastens on a sure ground beyond
'them.
Thus, though the ship cannot escape from the wild
waters, she is safe on their surface. She cannot, indeed,
take the wings of a dove and fly away so as to be at rest ;
but the sea cannot cover her, and the wind cannot drive
her on the beach. She must, indeed, bear a while the
tempest's bufletings ; but she is not for a moment aban-
doned to the tempest's will. The motto of that ship is
the motto once held aloft in triumph by a tempted but
heroic soul : " We are perplexed, but not in despair ; per-
secuted, but not forsaken ; cast down, but not destroyed"
(2 Cor. iv. 8, 9).
An immortal creature on this changeful life is like a
ship upon the ocean. On the strength of that obvious
analogy the apostle intimates, by a bold yet perspicuous
figure, that we have " an anchor of the soul." The soul,
considered as a passenger on the treacherous sea of Time,
needs an anchor; and an anchor "sure and steadfast" is
provided for the needy soul.
In many respects the world, and human life on it, are
hke the sea. Itself restless, it cannot permit to rest any
of the pilgrims that tread its heaving, shifting surface.
At some times, and in some places, great tempests rise ;
but even in its ordinary condition it is always and every-
where uncertain, deceptive, dangerous. Currents of air
12 THE ANCHOR OF THE SOUL.
and currents of ocean intermingle with and cross each
other in endless and unknown complications, bringing
even the most skilful mariner to his wit's end — making
him afraid either to stand still or to advance. On this
heaving sea we must all lie. Even our Father in heaven
does not lift up his own, and Christ the Son does not ask
him so to do : *' I pray not that thou shouldest take them
out of the world ; but that thou shouldest keep them
from the evil." The best that can be done for them, in
this world, is to preserve them from sinking or striking
on the shore. The soul is tossed by many temptations ;
but the anchor of the soul is sure and steadfast within
the veil. Without are fightings, within are fears, — all
these are against us ; but one thing will over-balance
and overcome them — " Our life is hid with Christ in
God."
Hope sometimes signifies the act of a human spirit
laying hold of an unseen object, and sometimes the
object unseen whereon the human spirit in its need lays
hold. These two significations may be combined toge-
ther : they are so combined here. " The Hope set before
us," is Christ entered for us now within the veil ; and the
hope that " we have," is the exercise of a believing soul
when it trusts in the risen Redeemer. These two cannot
be separated. The one is the grasp which a believing
soul takes of Christ, and the other Is the Christ whom a
believing soul is grasping. These two run so close toge-
ther that you cannot perceive where the joining Is. " I
am the vine, ye are the branches." Even so. Lord ; and
THE ANCHOR OF THE SOUL, 13
what human eye can tell the very line which marks
where the branch ends and the vine begins ? Christians
are members of Christ, — of his flesh and of his bones.
"■ As he is, so are we in this world." " Saul, Saul, why
persecutest thou me.-*" "Which Hope we have." If you
ask me, Whether does he mean, by hope, the Christ on
whom his soul is leaning, or his own act of leaning on
Christ } I answer, Both. You cannot have one of these
without having both. The branch has the vine ; but it
has also its own living growth into the vine. And if it
had not that living growth into the vine, it would not
have the vine. So the soul has Christ, and also its own
living faith in Christ, wanting which it would have no
Christ.
Mark well here what it is that renders a disciple safe
and firm as he floats on the rushing tide of Time. It is
not terror of the Lord in his conscience. Such terror
may awaken a slumberer, and make him flee to that
which will keep him ; but the terror itself cannot keep
him. Fear repels ; it is hope that holds ; — blessed
hope !
The anchor must not be cast on anything that floats
on the water, however large and solid it may seem. The
largest thing that floats is an iceberg. But although an
iceberg does not shake like a ship, but seems to receive
the waves and permit them to break on its sides as they
break on the shore, it would be ruin to anchor the ship
to it. The larger and the less would drift the same way,
and perish together. Ah! this stately Church — this
14 THE ANCHOR OF THE SOUL.
high-seeming and high-sounding ecclesiastical organiza-
tion, woe to the human spirit that is tempted in the toss-
ing to make fast to that great imposing mass ! It is not
sure and steadfast. It is floating : it moves with the
current of the world : it moves to an awful shore ! Not
there, not there ! Your hope, when you stretch it out
and up for eternal life, must enter " into that within the
veil, whither the Forerunner is for us entered."
Nor will it avail a drifting ship to fix its anchor on
itself It would be very childish to try this method ; but
I have seen full-grown people betake themselves with
great energy to this foolish shift. When a boat on a
stream broke adrift with a few unskilful people on board,
I have seen them in their alarm grasp the gunwale and
bend themselves and draw with all their might in the
direction of the shore ! In spite of their drawing, the
boat glided with them dow^n the stream. In the concerns
of the soul such childishness is even more common. Faith
in one's own faith or charity is a common exercise among
men. Beware ! Hope must go out for a hold ; even as
the ship's anchor must be flung away from the ship.
The eye is made for looking with, not for looking at.
Aw^ay from all in ourselves, and out through all that
floats like ourselves on this shifting sea, we must throw
the anchor of the soul through the shifting waters into
Him who holds them in the hollow of his hand.
Mark, further, that hope in Christ is specifically the
anchor of the soul. Here, like draws to like : spirit to
spirit. God is a Spirit, and they that worship him wor-
THE ANCHOR OF THE SOUL. 15
ship him in spirit. There is no anchor that will make
our temporal possessions fast. Wealth, and friends, and
even life, may drift away any day on the flood ; and no
power on earth can arrest the movement. These bodily
things may or may not abide with a Christian ; but his
anchor does not hold them. It is only an anchor of the
soul, not an anchor of the body. We must not expect
from the Lord what he never promised.
There are contrivances not a few in our day for fixing
material property, so that it shall not drift away in the
currents of time. The system of assurances both on life
and property has reached an enormous magnitude.
Amidst its great and manifold branches, the wicked have
of late years, like wild beasts in a forest, found cover for
various crimes. Things are now made fast which our
forefathers thought essentially uncertain, like the cur-
rents of the ocean. Treasures are insured while they
cross the sea in ships, so that, though the vessel go to
the bottom, the importer gets his own. The food and
clothing of a wife and children, which formerly were left
to float on the uncertain waters of the husband and
father's life, are made fast by insurance to an anchor
which holds them, although that life should glide away.
Taking up the obvious analogy employed in this scrip-
ture, one of the insurance societies has adopted the an-
chor as its name.
But the action of these anchors is limited to things
seen and temporal. They cannot be constructed so as
to catch and keep any spiritual thing. They may hold
1 6 THE ANCHOR OF THE SOUL..
fast a wife's fortune, when the life of the bread-winner
falls in ; but they cannot maintain joy- in her heart,
or kindle light in her eye. Far less can they insure
against the shipwreck of the soul. With these things
they do not intermeddle. All the world may be gained
for a man, and kept for him too, and yet he is a loser,
if he lose his own soul. Only one anchor can grasp
and hold the better part of man — and that is the
hope which enters into the heavens, and fastens there
in Jesus.
The anchor — in as far as it indicates the object which
hope grasps — the anchor is " sure and steadfast." The
expressions are exact and full. The words are tried
words. They are given in order that we might have
strong consolation who have fled for refuge to the hope
set before us.
There are two cases in which one's hope may be disap-
pointed : the support you lean on may be tinzvilling or
unable to sustain you. In the one case it is deception ;
in the other, weakness. A Christian's hope is not ex-
posed to either flaw: it is both "sure and steadfast;"
that is, the Redeemer, who holds them, is zvilling and
able. He will not falsely let you go, nor feebly faint
beneath your weight. He is true and strong — for these
are the words. He both luill and can keep that which
we commit to him against that day.
With the same meaning, but by means of another ana-
^^&y> Christ is represented elsewhere in Scripture as a
foundation ; and it is intimated that the foundation is a
(512)
THE ANCHOR OF THE SOUL. 17
tried one. It has been put to the strain, and has stood
the test.
In modern practice great importance attaches to the
trying of an anchor. Many ships have been lost through
accident or fraud in the manufacture. The instrument
had a good appearance, but there was a flaw in its heart ;
and when the strain came, it snapped, and all was lost.
For the security of the subject, the Government have
erected an apparatus for testing anchors ; and the royal
seal is stamped on those that have been approved. When
the merchantman purchases an anchor so certified, he
has confidence that it will not fail him in his need. It is
interesting, and even solemn work, to test anchors, and
stamp them as approved. Beware ! set not the seal on
one that is doubtful, for many precious lives will yet be
intrusted to its keeping.
He who is now the anchor of the soul within the veil,
was " made perfect through suffering."
The safety of which this text speaks, is safety such as
an anchor affords. This is different from the safety of a
ship on a stormless sea, and different from the safety of
a ship that is moored fore and aft within the walls of a
harbour. Both these positions are safe ; but they differ
both from each other and from safety by an anchor.
Man unfallen enjoyed the first kind of safety, and the
ransomed in rest enjoy the second ; but the place of a
believer in the body is neither like that of a ship on a
calm sea, nor like that of a ship within the harbour, — it
is like a ship exposed to raging winds above, and deceit-
f512) 2
i8 THE ANCHOR OF THE SOUL.
ful currents below. Such a soul may be abundantly safe ;
but its safety is of the kind that a ship enjoys while it is.
exposed to the storms, and before it reaches the haven —
the safety that an exposed ship enjoys through an anchor
that is sure and steadfast.
Take now a series of practical lessons.
1. The ship that is kept by an anchor, altJwiigh safe, is
not at ease. It does not, on the one hand, dread destruc-
tion ; but neither, on the other hand, does it enjoy rest.
" Beloved, think it not strange concerning the fiery trial
which is to try you." Those who have entered the har-
bour do not need an anchor ; and those who are drifting
with the stream do not cast one out. The hope which
holds is neither for the world without nor the glorified
within, but for Christ's people as they pass through life —
rejoicing with trembling ; faint, yet pursuing. " In the
world ye shall have tribulation ; but be of good cheer : I
have overcome the world."
2. But further : the ship that is held by an anchor is
not only tossed in the tempest like other ships, — it is
tossed more than other ships. The ship that rides at
anchor experiences rackings and heavings that ships
which drift with the tide do not know. So, souls who
have no hold of Christ seem to lie softer on the surface
of a heaving world than souls that are anchored on his
power and love. The drifting ship, before she strikes, is
more smooth and more comfortable than the anchored
one ; but when she strikes, the smoothness is all over.
The pleasures of sin are sweet to those who taste them ;
THE ANCHOR OF THE SOUL. rg
but the sweetness is only for a season. ** The wicked
shall be driven away in his iniquity ; but the righteous
hath hope in his death."
3. When the anchor has been cast into a good ground,
the heavier the strain that comes on it, the deeper and
firmer grows its hold. As winds and currents increase
in violence, the anchor bites more deeply into the solid,
and so increases its preserving power. It is thus with a
trusting soul : temptations, instead of driving him away
from his Saviour, only fix his affections firmer on the
Rock of Ages. " When I am weak, then am I strong ; "
when I am most exposed, then am I safest, in the hollow
of my Redeemer's hand. If you have hold, it is in a
time of temptation that you will increase the intensity of
your grasp. Accordingly you find, as a general rule,
that those Christians who have passed through a great
fight of afflictions are stronger in the faith than others
who have always sailed on a smooth sea.
4. The ship that is anchored is sensitive to every change
of wind or tide, and ever tttrns sharply round to meet and
resist the stream, from what direction soever it may flow.
A ship is safest with her head to the sea and the tempest.
In great storms the safety of all often depends on the
skill with which the sailors can keep her head to the
rolling breakers. Life and death have sometimes hung,
for a day and a night in the balance, whether the weary
steersman could keep her head to the storm until the
storm should cease. Even a single wave allowed to
strike her on the broadside might send all to the bottom.
20 THE ANCHOR OF THE SOUL,
But to keep the ship in the attitude of safety, there is no
effort and no art equal to the anchor. As soon as the
anchor feels the ground, the vessel that had been drifting
broadside, is brought up, and turns to the waves a sharp
prow that cleaves them in two and sends them harmless
alongf the sides.
Watch from a height any group of ships that may be
lying in an open roadstead. At night when you retire
they all point westward ; in the morning, they are all
looking to the east. Each ship has infallibly felt the first
veering of the wind or water, and instantly veered in the
requisite direction, so that neither wind nor wave has
ever been able to strike her on the broadside. Thereby
hangs the safety of the ship.
Ships not at anchor do not turn and face the foe. The
ship that is left loose will be caught by a gust on her
side, and easily thrown over.
As with ships, so with souls : those that are anchored
feeL sensitively the direction and strength of the tempta-
tion, and instantly turn to meet and to overcome it ;
whereas those that are not anchored are suddenly over-
come, and their iniquities, like the wind, carry them
away. " We are saved by hope ; " — saved not only from
being outcast in the end, but from yielding to temptation
now.
It is a vain imagination that rises in ignorant minds
against the gospel of Christ, that when a sinner gets a
glad hope in Christ's mercy, he will not be careful to
obey Christ's law. It is an old objection, and perhaps it
THE ANCHOR OF THE SOUL. 21
is human and natural ; but it is not real — it is not true.
As certainly as the anchored ship feels every gust and
every current, and turns sharply round to face and fight
it ; so certainly a soul that has hope in Christ has a
quick and sure instinct to detect influences and com-
panionships and customs that dishonour the Lord and
ensnare his people. And as the hopeful soul surely
detects the danger, it also, in virtue of its hold and hope,
turns round to meet, to resist, and to make the devil
flee.
I suppose no youth, since Pharaoh reigned in Egypt,
has been exposed to a greater strain of temptation than
that which Joseph overcame in Potiphar's house. But it
was hope that saved him, as the anchor saves the ship.
If he had not been at peace with God, he would have
been like a ship caught on the broadside by a hurricane.
It was the anchor of the soul, sure and steadfast within
the veil before the blast began, that enabled him to over-
come it : " How can I do this great evil, and sin against
God?''
5. When the ship is anchored, and the sea is running
high, there is great commotion at her bows. The waves
in rapid succession come on and strike. When they
strike they are broken, and leap, white and angry, high
up on the vessel's sides. This tumult is by no means
agreeable in itself; but the mariner on board would not
like to want it, for it is the sign of safety. If, while wind
and waves continue to rage, he should observe that this
commotion had suddenly ceased, he would not rejoice.
22 THE ANCHOR OF THE SOUL.
He would look eagerly over the bulwarks, and seeing the
water blue on her bows, instead of the hissing, roaring
spray, he would utter a scream of terror. The smooth-
ness at her bows indicates to him that her anchor is
dragging. The ship is drifting with wind and water to
the shore.
Such, too, is the experience of a soul. Brother, you
hope in Christ. Do not be surprised that the currents of
fashion rub sometimes rudely against you. It is explained
by a text in the Bible : " The friendship of the world is
enmity with God." If you are fixed, a great flood is
rushing by, and it must needs cause a commotion round
you. An impetuous tide of worldliness will dash dis-
agreeably against you from time to time. Do not be too
anxious to make all smooth. Peace may be bought too
dear. When the mighty stream of vanity on which you
float produces no ruffling at the point of contact, — when
it is not disagreeable to you, and you not disagreeable to
it, — suspect that your anchor is dragging, that it has lost
its hold, and that you are drifting into danger.
Cast in the anchor while the sea is calm : you will need
it to lean on when the last strain comes on !
II.
"§t §tool) anil Cricb."
*'/;z f/ie last day, that great day of the feast, yesiis stood and cjied, saying.
If any man thirst, Id him come unto me, and drink.'''' — John vii. 37.
^^^HIS was the feast of booths or tabernacles. It
was instituted expressly to commemorate the
journey from Egypt to Canaan (Lev. xxiii.
33-43). Once every year, on the fifteenth day of the
seventh month, the ransomed people in their own good
land cut down branches from the trees, therewith con-
structed tents on the flat roofs of their houses, or in the
open squares of the city, and dwelt night and day for a
week under the fragile covering. It was by such institu-
tions as this that the history of the Exodus was printed
into the nation's life for all generations. The pilgrimage
of forty years between the Red Sea and the Jordan be-
came the mould in which the habit of their thought was
cast ; their psalms and their prophecies were shapen in it.
The language of Canaan was dipped in the bitter ex-
periences of Egypt, and the free enjoyed more keenly
their liberty by being continually reminded of their
24 HE STOOD AND CRIED.
bondage. On the same principle, a more numerous seed
of Abraham in a brighter land of promise will call to
mind the struggles of the pilgrimage, in order to enhance
the sweetness of eternal rest.
In the latter days of Jerusalem, as we learn from the
history of the period, a ceremony was added to those of
the ordained feast of booths, intended, evidently, to com-
memorate the thirst in the wilderness, and the supply
that was provided from the rock in Horeb. On the
last day of the feast, towards evening, the priests formed
a procession, and having drawn water from the Pool of
Siloam, bore it to the Temple, and poured it on the
ground, so that it should flow down to the lower streets
of the city. This symbol pointed, probably, to Ezekiel's
grand vision of waters issuing from the Temple, small at
first, but rapidly increasing, until they became a river
that could not be passed over — a river to swim in.
Ezekiel's vision must have been an object of passion-
ate interest to the seed of Abraham in Palestine in our
Lord's day. The condition of the people was wretched.
They groaned under a foreign yoke. In vain they looked
for a deliverer ; the heavens over their head remained
as brass, and the earth under their feet as iron. There
were, in a sense, thirsty souls, but there was no cold
water to refresh them. These unhappy Jews, chafing in
the chains of the oppressor, would listen to the gushing
waters of Ezekiel's prophecy, as often as the passage
occurred in the daily reading of the synagogue, with an
intense and indescribable longing. With more or less
HE STOOD AND CRIED. 2$
of intelligent faith, they agonized for a time when forth
from the Temple at Jerusalem a stream of blessing
should flow to refresh the weary land. I think they
would pore over the prophet's pictured page until they
saw the river in their dreams, and were awaked by the
tumult of imaginary joy, to discover that their souls were
still empty.
The longing of the people's hearts, it seems, found
outlet in the introduction of a new symbol, superadded
to the ordained feast, but apparently in harmony with
its main design, and suited to the emergency of the
time. Besides a material enacting of the dwelling in
tents, they instituted a material representation of the
stream that flowed from the rock, quenching the bodily
thirst at the time, and promising better things in Christ.
The procession of priests has gone to Siloam and
returned to the Temple. They have poured the water
from the golden vessel, and a rivulet is making its way
along the unwonted channel, forth from the hallowed
courts towards the city. The assembled crowds are
ranged on either side, watching the progress of the mimic
stream. The beams of the setting sun strike the water,
where in a hollow it spreads into a pool, and golden
glory flashes for a moment from the spot that had been
dull dry earth before. The multitude gaze in ignorant
superstition ; but some of the Lord's hidden ones are
there, waiting for the Consolation of Israel, and spelling
painfully out of these dead letters the name of their
living Redeemer.
26 HE STOOD AND CRIED.
Jesus was there teaching'. He had come up about the
middle of the feast, and now its last day was nearly-
done. He looked on the crowd as they gazed wist-
fully on the symbolic water. His heart was yearning
for them. He knew what was in man : he knew that
the Jews made idols of these significant signs, as they
made idols of the scriptures which were printed on their
clothinsf. He saw them drinkino- that which cannot
quench the thirst of a soul. He pitied them, and came
to the rescue.
You have seen a group of bare-footed, ragged, hungry
children, standing on the pavement on a cold winter
night, gazing through the glass of a baker's window —
gazing on the bread, which they greatly needed, but
could not reach. You pitied them ; perhaps you paused,
and gave the needy little ones some of the bread for
which they longed ; you remembered, as you resumed
your journey, the words of the Lord Jesus, how he
said, " It is more blessed to give than to receive."
Such to the Lord seemed those groups of Jews who
crowded forward to see the water flowing that evening
in the courts of the Temple at Jerusalem. He saw them
straining after a consolation, which, although it was near
them, they could not reach. The waters were indeed a
symbol of spiritual life in the Lord ; but the Jews could
not penetrate the glass which at once veiled and revealed
the salvation of Christ. They were like the visitors who
stood and looked into the empty grave of Jesus. He is
not there ; he is risen. Why seek ye the living among
HE STOOD AND CRIED. 27
the dead ? This is man's extremity and God's opportu-
nity. He approaches them ; he speaks to them ; he
turns their straining eyes away from the husks which
once held the wheat, but which are empty now. He
bids them turn away from that trickHng symboHc water
to himself, the Saviour from sin. " In the last day, that
great day of the feast, Jesus stood and cried, saying,
If any man thirst, let him come unto me, and drink."
Consider the invitation, — •
I. In its substance : " Any one, come unto me."
II. In its specific form : " If any one thirst, let him
drink."
HI. In its peculiar earnestness : " In the last, great day
of the feast, Jesus stood and cried, saying, If any man
thirst, let him come unto me, and drink."
I. The invitation in its substance: "Any one, come
unto me."
1. What the offer is : " Come unto me."
2. To whom the offer is made : " Any one."
I. What the offer is : " Come unto me." — It is here that
a minister meets his greatest difficulty, and discovers his
own helplessness. God's greatest things are the sim-
plest, and the simplest things it is most difficult to
explain. As long as our course lies along the outskirts,
and among the accessories of the faith, our expositions
may be intelligible, interesting, and instructive ; but
when we approach the heart of our theme, we are liable
to be made dumb if we perceive its greatness, or to
28 HE STOOD AND CRIED.
speak foolishly If we don't. Scarcely any form of words
is more familiar in this Christian community than " Come,
to Jesus," and cognate expressions gathered directly
from the Bible or bursting out from believing hearts ;
yet scarcely any form of words passes more frequently
by, like a ship in the sea or a bird in the air, without
leaving a track behind.
The way to be saved is to come to the Saviour. He
does not destroy our enemies, and permit us to remain
at a distance from himself We cannot be saved by him
unless we are saved in him. He desires to get the
company of saved men ; and if men hope to be saved
by his mercy, and yet keep out of his sight, they have
missed the meaning of his work. If, with no relish for
his presence, you keep company with your vanities, and
cry to an Almighty Christ to open for you the gates of
heaven, that in the last extremity you may escape from
hell, you have no part in his salvation. The answ^er
prepared for you is, " Depart from me ; I know you not."
Those who do not want to have Christ's society on
earth will not get it in heaven. His invitation, " Come
unto me," implies that we part from all that displeases
him, and w^alk with him in newness of life. The true
disciples, when the Lord manifests himself, are ready at
all times, and especially when darkness approaches, to
constrain him to abide. While he walks with them,
their hearts burn : when they miss him from their com-
pany, their hearts are sad. His promise is a double one :
Lo, I am for you at the judgment-seat ; and lo, I am
HE STOOD AND CRIED. 29
with you in the present pilgrimage. This Christ cannot
be divided : if we do not accept all, we get none. He
will not be for us in that day, if we do not take him with
us in this.
" Come unto me!' It is to Christ himself, and not to
any servant or substitute. You may come to the church,
to the Lord's table, to the Bible, and get no good. Past
all these attendants a needy soul must come, saying, as
the spouse to the daughters of Jerusalem, "Saw ye him
whom my soul loveth .?" Christ's work for sinners is not
the fulfilment of a contract in which mere omnipotence is
put forth. It is not to lift the dead weight of the fallen
stars and set them in their place again ; it is an engage-
ment between person and person ; it is a work in which
love enters as the controlling element. In the redemp-
tion of sinners love is first and last, the beginning and
the end. His work is not to lift a weight ; it is to win
an alienated heart. He loves ; and love is hurt when it
is not loved again. The saying has become memorable,
"The Bible is the religion of Protestants." It might be
carried a step further, and so made to express a deeper
truth, — Christ is the religion of Christians. The true
Christian is the man who makes Christ his friend, who
speaks to him when he lies down at night and when he
awakes in the morning ; who cleaves personally to the
man Christ Jesus, God with us, as his company to-day
and his Redeemer at last.
2. To zuhom the invitation is addressed : "Any one." —
The gospel is as free as the air or the sunshine. To you,
30 HE STOOD AND CRIED.
O men, the voice of Wisdom calls : " Whosoever will, let
him come." Search this Bible through : you will find
many of the worst accepted ; but you will not find a
single example of one rejected for want o/ some neces-
sary quality in himself The little children, people in
the busy, burning noon of life, and those who have
grown old in their sins, — all are welcome. The blood
of Jesus Christ cleanseth us from all sin. If you have
gotten much of this world, and have made its thick clay
the portion of your soul, yet come to Jesus and you are
welcome ; he upbraideth not. If you have failed to win
the wealth for which you laboured, and with weaned,
soured spirit, quarrelled with God and men on account
of your misfortunes, yet come, and you are welcome to
Christ. Let the self-righteous leave his pride behind,
and cast his filthy rags away, — the fine linen, clean and
white, the righteousness of the saints, is ready to adorn
him with. Let the intemperate turn his back on his
tempter and come to Jesus : he will in no wise be cast
out. The society of the redeemed in glory will be in
one sense very various, and in another sense one homo-
geneous company. They have come from various kinds
and degrees of impurity ; but they have all washed their
robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.
II. Consider the invitation now in its specific form —
Let the thirsty drink : " If any man thirst, let him come
unto me, and drink."
The spring has been opened, and it is flowing freely.
HE STOOD AND CRIED. 31
The whole world may get life there as well as one man.
All the fulness of the Godhead bodily is treasured up in
Christ. On one side all things are now ready. Here \k
the water of life, but where are the thirsty souls }
I saw lately a letter written by a young invalid, who
had been sent to Madeira to escape the rigour of a
Scottish winter. It glowed all over with the praises of
the place : the climate, the landscape, the lodging, the
friends, the food, — all were of the best. Even in the
matter of health there was neither sickness nor pain.
But one plaint, not loud but long, ran through the letter
like its woof ;^the key-note of its melancholy cadence
was, " I have no appetite. If the appetite should return,
I would be well." The next mail brought intelligence
that she was dead and buried. In the midst of plenty,
she died of want, — a want not of food, but of hunger.
This is the ailment of which many souls are dying in
the city and the land to-day. Wells of salvation are
flowing, and overflowing, and flooding the land. The
proclamation everywhere resounds, " Ho, every one that
thirsteth, come ye to the waters." Yet many perish, — •
perish for want of thirst.
I know not any pleasure of sense more exquisite than
a draught of cool, clear water, when you are thirsty ; but
few things are more insipid than water when there is no
thirst. It is thus that Christ and his salvation are very
sweet to one, and very tasteless to another.
When the law of God comes in with authority upon a
guilty conscience, — when the terrors of the Lord con-
32 HE STOOD AND CRIED.
sume a soul, as the burning sun dries up the herbage in
a rainless season, — then the convinced sinner understands
what is meant by '' the water of life." The good news of
mercy to the guilty through the sacrifice of Christ is as
cold waters to this thirsty soul. When sin is gnawing
at your heart like the living worm, and the judgment-
seat is frowning before you like a burning fire, and the
dark grave, like the bottomless pit, is opening to receive
you, — oh then Christ is welcome, — his gospel is sweet to
your taste.
But to the whole-hearted these are unmeaning words.
The form of doctrine to which they have been accus-
tomed they do not indeed reject, but to them it has no
meaning. They have never been thirsty, and therefore
for cold water they do not care. Those who do their
religion as a painful duty, or bear it as a burden which it
is not safe to cast away, die strangers alike to the pain
and the pleasure of God's children. They know neither
the craving of thirst, nor the delight of getting that crav-
ing satisfied.
Here a fellow-creature is helpless. None of us could
make a drop of water, although it were to save a brother's
life. But our impotence on that side is not a misfortune,
for God has provided for his world an abundant supply.
On the other hand, although crystal streams were flow-
ing through every valley, and pearly drops descending
from the skies on every field, we could not create thirst
in any living creature, if it were not implanted there by
the finger of God. In point of fact, except in a ^q.\\
HE STOOD AND CRIED. 33
morbid examples, the creatures are on both sides very
good. Water in abundance is provided for every Hving
creature, and every Hving creature is stimulated by thirst
to take as much as it needs. On neither side could
we repair the machinery, if it were defective ; but the
machinery on both sides is perfect, and needs no help
from our hand.
In the spiritual department we are equally helpless.
We could not provide the supply, — the life from the
dead to sinners. But God has provided this supply —
in all fulness he has treasured it in Christ. But neither
can we kindle in a soul the desire which will accept the
mercy provided through Christ. He who in nature pro-
vided the water, generates also in the creature the neces-
sary thirst ; and He who in the gift of his Son has pro-
vided the living water, must generate also in the soul
the thirst.
It is not enough to say that we cannot make thirst
where it is not ; we cannot even explain what it is. If
this body of brothers to whom I now speak had never
experienced thirst, I could not, though I should speak
with the tongues of men and of angels, convey to you a
true conception of what thirst is. But if you should
afterwards be thirsty, I might save myself the trouble of
defining what it means. You know it without a word
from me. It is precisely the same in the spiritual de-
partment. Neither I nor any other minister can rightly
show what it is to long for God's salvation, to those who
have never experienced that desire. " Blessed are they
34 HE STOOD AND CRIED.
that hunger and thirst after righteousness ; for they shall
be filled."
III. TJie manner of invitation — the pecnliar earnestness
with which it is given.
" In the feasty — The solemnities instituted of old in
Israel all pointed to gospel privileges. The feast is now ;
and while it lasts the word of Jesus falls on our ear, — the
word, " Come unto me."
" Li the last day, that great day of the feast!' — Great
because it was last. There were seven days of it ; but
now the seventh was nearly done. While this day now
running its course is in its own nature neither greater nor
less than other days, it is to some of the world's inhabi-
tants greater than all other days of their life together.
If one has lived twenty, or thirty, or fifty years, and is
still a stranger to Christ when this day dawns ; if, more-
over, this should be the last of his allotted number, —
then this day is to him a great day. It is greater than a
whole eternity to him ; for on it he is either saved or lost.
" Jesus stood!' — He remained on the spot. He did not
go away, wearied with waiting, or provoked by the
people's neglect. When the foolish virgins returned from
their search he was gone, and they were shut out.
" Awake, thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and
Christ shall give thee light." He is bending over you,
like the sun in the heavens; so that if the blind eyes open
now they will look on the Light of Life. Some of us may
have been much surprised to find him waiting when we
HE STOOD AND CRIED. 35
were at last made willing. Young man, he knocked at
your door in your early youth; but you left him without,
and kept your vanities as more congenial company. At
another knock you ventured to speak to the Lord, and
promised to arise and admit him ; but you fell in with
other company ere your good resolution was executed,
and Christ was again neglected. When at last some
providence shook your foundations, and rent your cover-
ings away, you thought that now, in your need, Christ
would have none of you. You were surprised at the long-
suffering of God our Saviour. When at last, deserted by
all others whom you had preferred, you thought of turning
to the Son of God, you found him still waiting ; and he
upbraided not. " His is love beyond a brother's ; oh,
how he loves ! "
^' He stood tipr — He took a prominent position, that
all might see him. So to-day, in our land, he is lifted up.
Our eyes behold our Teacher.
''He cried!' — This is strange. This is the world's way
turned upside down. We are accustomed to hear those
crying who are ready to perish, while those who go
out to save are calm and silent. Here this method is
reversed. The lost whom he saves are silent and satis-
fied ; the Saviour, who brings deliverance, cries. They
act as if they were full, and he as if he were needy. He
cried ; why } All things are his in heaven and on earth ;
what want is gnawing at the heart of him in whom all
the fulness of the Godhead bodily lies t Ah ! it is the
longing of his soul not to get, but to give redemption.
36 HE STOOD AND CRIED.
He has a more eager desire to give pardon than any
awakened sinner has to get it. It was he that said, out
of his own experience, " It is more blessed to give than
to receive."
When the men of Jerusalem were buying and selling,
marrying and giving in marriage, this Jesus stood on the
mountain's brow and wept over them. They who needed
salvation had dry eyes ; he who longed to give salvation
wept, because they were perishing in sin. It is so to-day.
He is the same Jesus ; and human hearts are still deceitful
above all things, and desperately wicked.
How is it with you, friends .'' I find that this aspect
of Jesus is very winsome to my poor, fearing, doubting
heart. While I think only that I need him — while I look
within, and discover all evil — when I look forward, and
find the prospect shut in by the judgment-seat — Vv^hen I
am oppressed by the thought of my sin and wretched-
ness— when I throw out all my line to sound the depths
of my own need, and feel no bottom, — I am apt to dread
that Christ may not welcome such a one. I may be told,
indeed, and told truly, that he will not cast out this
empty, needy, worthless thing. Still, I find it hard to
believe. It is like bidding me, while I stand on the
earth, fling a line first fastened to my waist, fling it up-
ward into yonder blue far heaven. I throw at it with all
my might, but it falls down again by its own weight at
my feet ; it will not go up — it will not for me go up all
the way and hold. But after knowing that I need the
HE STOOD AND CRIED. 37
Saviour, when I discover also that he needs me — that he
wants me — that he longs to make me like himself, and
take me to his presence ; when I know that he longs to
give salvation more than I long to get it — when not only
I cry to him, but when he cries to get me — oh ! then it
seems easier to believe. Then, it is not I that by the
vigour of my own arm must throw a line into heaven ;
but the line, fastened to the throne of God, drops down
from heaven to me. I have but to grasp it, and I am
saved.
" And from above the Lord sent down,
And took me from below ;
From many waters he me drew,
Which would me overflow." (Ps. xviii. 16.)
It is not, Who shall ascend into heaven } that is, to bring
Christ down ; but the word is nigh thee — his own word.
He cried, saying, "If any man thirst, let him come unto
me, and drink."
III.
"f)c shall dloiifj) gXt."
" I/e shall glorify me : for he shall receive of mine, and shall shew it
unto you.'''' — John xvi. 14.
HERE is one Mediator between God and men,
the man Christ Jesus. Other foundation can
no man lay than that which is laid. He is
the way. No man cometh unto the Father but by him.
Whoever and whatever he may be whom we may
meet as we cross this desert, our message to him must
be in substance the same as Philip's to the Ethiopian.
We must preach unto him Jesus. Neither is there sal-
vation in any other. " Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ,
and thou shalt be saved."
But in preaching Christ, we should not neglect the
ministry of the Spirit. To preach Christ without refer-
ence to his Spirit, is to put ourselves in that Spirit's
place. He made much of the Spirit's work in the estab-
lishment of his kingdom : so should we. He ascended
into heaven that he might bestow the Spirit, and counted
that gift an equivalent to his sorrowing disciples for the
HE SHALL GLORLFY ME. 39
want of his own presence at their head. It is from his
own hps that we learn the necessity, the use, and the
results of the Holy Spirit's ministry.
The work of God the Spirit is an essential part of the
eternal covenant. Wanting it, there would be no salva-
tion to men, no glory to God in the gospel. Although
the Redeemer had travailed on earth, he would not in
heaven have seen of the travail of his soul, if the Spirit
had not taken of his and shown it effectually to men.
The sacrifice of Christ for sinners does not of itself
save sinners, — not from any defect in the Redeemer's
work, but because he is rejected and despised of men.
Jesus said, " It is finished," when he bowed his head and
died. No new sacrifice is needed. The blood of Jesus
Christ cleanseth us from all sin. But after that sacri-
fice has been offered, many perish. This shows that, in
some sense, the sacrifice of Christ is not by itself enough
to save a sinning world. Nothing more is needed to re-
concile God to sinners ; but something more is needed to
reconcile sinners to God. On the upper side, the simple
presentation of Christ is enough : on the under side, the
simple presentation of Christ is not enough. God the
Father does not, when the Son presents himself, demand
another mediator to induce him to listen to that Son's
voice ; but fallen men need, and get, another Intercessor
to open their hearts to a beseeching Saviour.
On the one extreme is God, the offended Judge : on
the other, fallen, prodigal men, with Christ, the Days-
man, laying his hand on both. But although all is thus
40 HE SHALL GLORIFY ME.
recidy, no transaction takes place. God needs no min-
istry to make him willing to be, in Christ, reconciled to
us ; but we need a ministry, even after Christ's work is
complete, to make us willing- to be, through Christ, re-
conciled to God.
It is of the essence of the covenant, that those who by
man's sin were reciprocally alienated, should both ac-
cept Christ as Mediator, and be in him reconciled. But
one feature or effect of the alienation is, that we are
unwilling to accept the redemption which we so much
need. The spiritually blind, looking outward, cannot per-
ceive the beauty of the Saviour ; looking inward, cannot
appreciate their own guilt and need. The perverse heart
spurns away the Saviour ; and thus, though Christ is an
all-sufficient Redeemer, men are perishing in their sins.
" Thy people shall be willing in the day of thy power."
The power of God is needed, and in the covenant is, in
point of fact, applied, to bend the hard heart into glad
compliance with Christ's offer ; and the ministry of the
Spirit is the form in which divine power is exercised for
this end.
As we have an Intercessor with God, God has an In-
tercessor with us. The Son, in heaven, pleads with God
for us : the Spirit, on earth, pleads with us for God.
The Spirit's ministry is exercised on earth among
men. In heaven it is not needed. But we must care-
fully observe, that the Spirit is not another Saviour, sent
to accomplish the object in which the Son had failed.
It is of essential importance to mark the connection
HE SHALL GLORIFY ME. 41
which, according to the Scriptures, subsists between the
sacrifice of the Son and the ministry of the Spirit.
When we say that men in enmity against God perish
hi their sin, notwithstanding the sufficiency of Christ's
sacrifice, unless the quickening Spirit intervene, we must
beware of supposing that the Spirit accomph'shed what
the blood of Christ failed to achieve. When the enmity
is removed, and the will subdued, through the Spirit's
ministry, it still remains true that Christ crucified, pre-
sented to the sinner, was the true power that melted and
subdued him.
Leaving out of view, for the present, the efficacy of
Christ's sacrifice, when presented to the Father, in re-
moving condemnation and obtaining favour for the un-
worthy, we must trace the operation and effects of that
sacrifice on the other side, in removing the enmity of a
human heart, so that it is reconciled to God. It is a
great error, on the one side, to imagine, that the pre-
sentation of Christ in the Scriptures, or by a human
ministry, is of itself sufficient to convert men ; but it is
an equal, though an opposite error, to suppose that when
the blood of Christ failed to move the man's heart, an-
other power — the power of the Spirit — prevailed to move
it. When we point out that the simple exhibition of
redeeming love, in the life and death of Jesus, is not
enough to change a sinner's heart, we do not in aught
detract from the power of that love. We do not repre-
sent its drawing power to be small ; we represent the
resisting hardness of a carnal mind to be great.
42 HE SHALL GLORIFY ME.
Some teachers, erring not in the positive doctrines
which they proclaim, but in a certain one-sidedness,
which omits the opposite and corresponding and balanc-
ing truths, are in the habit of expatiating on the divine
omnipotence of the love that radiates from Christ cruci-
fied, and intimating that it needs but to be held forth
in simplicity in order to win the world to God. But
you are met here by the obvious fact that many to
whom Christ is so presented continue in unbelief, and
perish in their sin. Another ministry intervenes here,
not incongruous with Christ's work, but provided, pro-
mised, given by Christ to reveal and apply his own love.
'* Howbeit when he, the Spirit of truth, is come, he will
guide you into all truth : for he shall not speak of him-
self; but whatsoever he shall hear, that shall he speak:
and he will shew you things to come. He shall glorify
me : for he shall receive of mine, and shall shew it unto
you." In point of fact, to teach that the exhibition of
Christ's love is the only power needed, and the only
power applied to convert sinners, does not make the
power of Christ's love greater, but the evil of human
hearts less. If the heart of man were not deceitful
above all things, and desperately wicked, the lifting of
Christ upon the cross would draw all men to him. When
Jesus — divine love incarnate ! — went out and in among
men, they condemned and crucified him. This is the
peculiar condemnation of the world, that when the
Son of God came to seek and save it, they would
have none of him. After the descent of the Spirit, in
HE SHALL GLORLFY ME.
43
the Pentecost, thousands of these despisers were con-
verted in a day.
But do we not learn from the Scriptures that the love
of Christ is the greatest power that can be brought to
bear on a sinful heart — that Christ crucified is in this
respect the very power of God ? Yes ; we learn all this,
and more in the same direction. This is the greatest
power — this the only power — this the power to which
the prodigal yields, when at last he consents to return
to the Father. As there is none other whose merit will
take away condemnation in God's sight, so there is none
other whose manifested love can avail to overcome the
enmity in man, and draw him back to God. But here
we must insert the Spirit's ministry as a part of the
counsel of God. Besides the objective inducement, there
must be the subjective operation, I agree with the
teachers who magnify the power and sufficiency of the
Saviour's love to subdue and win the world to himself.
I allow them to state it in the strongest terms, and to
state it fully. When they have done, I take up the
subject where they have left off, and teach further, that
such is the hardness, the blindness, the death in sin in
which mankind lie, that they remain unmoved even
under this wonderful love : moreover, such is the long-
suffering and patience of our God, that instead of giving
men over when they refuse to submit to the Son, he
sends through that Son the ministering Spirit, whose
work it is to overcome the enmity, not without, but by
means of the sacrifice and righteousness of Christ. God
44 HE SHALL GLORIFY ME.
in the covenant, after providing Christ's love to draw
men, has also provided a mighty work in secret on
sinners' hearts to make them yield to that drawing.
When the Spirit works effectually on a human heart,
it is not a work independent of Christ's ; the Spirit's
office is to apply Christ's work : " He shall receive of
mine, and shall shew it unto you." Ask those who
have, through the outpouring of the Spirit in pentecostal
seasons, been renewed and forgiven — ask them to what
they owe forgiveness and sanctifying : they will give
the old answ^er — Christ is all my salvation. Christ
crucified has removed condemnation, so that God is at
peace w-ith me ; and melted out the enmity of my heart,
so that I am at peace with God. The Spirit does not
act without the motive, or supply another ; but he
applies the motive which lies in redeeming love, and
makes the heart yield to its power.
When saved men enter rest, the glory of their redemp-
tion wall all rise to God. They throw their crowns at
the Redeemer's feet. They abjure all claim to the merit
of providing mercy, and all claim to the merit of even
accepting the mercy that was provided. They could not
save themselves, and they could not come to the Saviour.
Even when redemption was wrought by Christ, such was
their deadness that they would have perished in presence
of a complete salvation, had not the sovereign Spirit
graciously come, and by a secret work in their hearts
made them willing to close with Christ — made Christ so
lovely that they were at length won.
HE SHALL GLORIFY ME. 45
As we cleave on the one hand to Christ's work for
us, we must cleave on the other hand to the Spirit's
work within us. To reconcile God to us, removing the
condemnation, is the part of the Son ; to reconcile us to
God, removing the enmity, is the ministry of the Spirit.
It is a mistake to limit the ministration of the Spirit
to the revelation of Christ in the Scriptures : this is the
Spirit's work, but this is not all his work. In as far as
that revelation is concerned, the Spirit's work, like
Christ's, is finished. But as our Intercessor with the
Father carries on that part of his ministry to the end,
so the Father's Intercessor with us carries on that part
of his ministry to the end.
The work now concerns not the object, but the organ :
the defect now is not a dim light in the sky, but a blind
eye on earth. I do not need the Spirit to display for
me a brighter light, but I need the Spirit within me to
open the eyes of my understanding. I do not need
another ministry to bring from heaven another and
greater love than Christ's ; but I need another ministry
to break and open this hard heart, that the love already
pressing on its gates may be permitted to flow in, that
it may reconcile and purify me. I do not need any
ministry to make Jesus more lovely ; but I do need a
ministry to make me love Jesus.
At this point men have struggled hard to rid them-
selves of the humbling doctrine that they are as little
able to accept the reconciliation offered, as to provide
the reconciliation for themselves. It is as completely
46 HE SHALL GLORIFY ME.
beyond human power to open a blind eye as to hang
a sun in the heavens. From the Father of Hghts both
good gifts ahke come down. Both the Christ who is the
way, and the Spirit who leads us through it, are the
sovereign gifts of God. It is from the region of human
philosophy, not from the Scriptures, that objections are
gathered. People raise a debate on the question hov/
man can be responsible, if God is sole and sovereign on
both sides of salvation. I am not able to explain all
these points to the satisfaction of all men : many of
God's works are too deep for me, both in creation and
redemption. I shall not fling away the gift, whether it
be material or spiritual, because I cannot by my search-
ing find out the Giver. If I do not believe in his Son,
it is not less but more my own fault, seeing he has
promised the Holy Spirit to them that ask him.
I confess I have learned to love the divine sovereignty.
I am not ashamed of it : I do not explain it away ; I
delight to own that I am indebted to sovereign free
mercy both for a Christ to believe in, and for my believ-
ing in Christ. The Object to look upon, and the look
upon that Object, are both the gift of God.
Conspiracies have at various times sprung up in the
world to deprive the Supreme of this peculiar glory — to
deny him a will. Man would fain substitute a law of
Nature for the living God. They conceive of an un-
thinking principle like gravitation; they think of a power
like the sea, lashing itself, and raging, and advancing
without a purpose or a plan, floating a ship and sinking
HE SHALL GLORIFY ME. 47
a stone with equal indifference, and continuing after-
wards its unmeaning roar. I love the ninth chapter of
the Epistle to the Romans : it is a sublime protest
against an atheistic human philosophy, and a transparent
assertion of the doctrine that the potter hath power over
the clay, and puts it forth too.
I can have no com-munion with a merely mechanical
omnipotence, — a sort of infinite ocean that heaves eter-
nally by laws to which it is subject ; saving me if I
continue to make myself sufficiently buoyant before I
am cast on its cold, uncaring bosom ; and swallowing me
up with the same relentless regularity if I make the leap
before I be light enough. This omnipotent principle is
not my Saviour. If I thought he should crush me, I
would hate him ; and if I were saved, I would not thank
him, — would not love him. I need as my Saviour the
living God, who loves me, and whom I may love in
return ; — the God who looked on me when I was lost,
and loved me when I was worthless ; who saved me from
hell, and made me his child. I need from my God, not
merely a general aspect of benevolence towards the
world, under which some of the most vigorous agonizers
may struggle into heaven ; I need not only permission
to save myself, but a hope that the Infinite sees me,
knows me, pities me, loves me, grasps me, and holds me
in the hollow of his hand, safe against all dangers, until
he bring me to his eternal rest. My God is he who,
after giving Christ for my redemption, gives the Spirit
to quicken me and unite me to Christ. If there were a
48 HE SHALL GLORIFY ME.
true vine growing in the ground beside me, and I were a
branch severed, rootless, fruitless, ready to die, and sure
when dead to be burned, what would the living vine be
to me, unless a kind and skilful hand should graff me in
and give me life ? The gospel is nothing to me unless I
am permitted to attribute a will to my God ; unless I
am indebted to that free will for all my salvation first
and last, — for the pardon-price and for the renewing
power.
Do not tell me of a God who stands in high heaven,
with its gates open, permitting all to arise and enter who
will or can : tell me, as the Bible does, of a God who
not only receives me if I am willing of my own accord,
but who comes by his Spirit into my heart while it is
unwilling, and makes it willing by his power. A Saviour
who stands in heaven pledged to receive me after I can
say, " Lord, I believe," is not enough for me : I need a
Saviour who will rend the heavens and come down when
I cry from the depths, " Lord, help my unbelief"
It is necessary that we should take now one side into
view and now another, in an effort rightly to divide the
word of truth ; but both sides lie in the Scriptures.
Jesus, revealing the Father, gave the Parable of the Lost
Sheep and the Parable of the Prodigal. The lost sheep
is sought, found, and carried home ; yet the prodigal
comes to himself, arises, and goes of his own will and on
his own feet to the Father. As the Saviour's work for
sinners does not supersede the sinner's duty to follow
Christ, so the Spirit's work in sinners does not supersede
HE SHALL GLORIFY ME. 49
repentance and believing in the sinner himself. It is the
Spirit that quickens the dead ; and yet the command of
the Scriptures is, "Awake, thou that sleepest, and arise
from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light ! "
If any should neglect to obey the command, on the
alleged ground that if the Spirit sovereignly quicken
him he will live, and if the Spirit is withheld he will
remain unconverted, whatever exertions he may make, —
he is allowing a philosophical speculation to interpose
between his soul and his Saviour. The difficulty does
not lie in the domain of religion at all ; it is a subtle
speculation of a human brain permitted to rise up like a
mist and spread until it has darkened both heaven and
earth. The matter is set down with abundant plainness
in the Scriptures. Not only work out your own salva-
tion with fear and trembling, although it is God that
worketh in you ; but work out your own salvation, /(9r it
is God that worketh in you. The promise of the Spirit
to enlighten and enliven, so far from being intended to
hinder, is meant to help your own effort to turn and live.
Here are two great rocks, at some distance from each
other, rising from the sea. On this one you may safely
stand, and on that one you may safely stand. You
believe that though the two are separated above the
water, and stand far apart, they are united in their roots
far beneath. You have no difficulty in taking your stand
alternately on both, and in believing that they are united
in unseen depths ; but if you should attempt personally
to trace the one rock to the other, — to feel with your
(512; 4
50 HE SHALL GLORIFY ME.
hands beneath the water all the way over from this to
that, — you would be lost in those waters that cover and
conceal their union. It is thus that faith accepts both
the truths revealed, — the sovereign act of God when he
breathes new life into the dead, and the freedom of a
human being when the alternative "Repent or perish"
is placed before him. Do your part altJwtigJi God does
his : do yours hopefully, because you are not left alone to
do it.
The Spirit of God is in Scripture compared to air — to
breath. Indeed the word is borrowed from the lower
sphere for use in the higher. Christ taught Nicodemus
that the Spirit, in conversion, is like the wind. Now,
observe how abundant the material breath is, and how
near to each of us. How vast the atmospheric ocean,
and how closely it wraps itself round our world, and
presses upon every part of our frame always ! So vast
is the ocean, that it has in all ages been a favourite
emblem of eternity and infinitude ; but the sea of air is
immensely greater than the sea of water. The water
covers the earth partially ; the air covers it all. And
the upper ocean is many times deeper than the lower.
Both in its universality and its vastness it is a much
better emblem of infinitude than the ocean of water.
And see how closely it lies to hand, and how easily it is
reached for use ! It is not necessary to put forth an
effort to obtain it for life. " Open your mouth wide, and
I will fill it." Let a man but gasp, and he gets it in
abundance. The moment that there is an emptiness in
HE SHALL GLORIFY ME, 51
your breast the breath of Hfe rushes in. In this matter
you have but to hunger, and you are forthwith filled.
The Giver of this plentiful supply in nature is not more
niggard of his spiritual gifts. "Ye give good gifts to
your children ; how much more will your Father in
heaven give the Spirit to them that ask him.^" "Ask,
and ye shall receive." Ye that are fathers in the flesh
know well how you take pleasure in giving good gifts
to your children. Although the young have an advan-
tage over us in many respects, we who are parents have
in this an advantage over the children. When I was a
child, I was conscious that I was so much a burden to
my father, that, although he supplied all my wants, I
found it hard to believe that he did it willingly or took
any pleasure in the act. I know better now. Not only
when they ask, but before they can ask. Before the
infant's lips can articulate a word, we grow skilful in
interpreting its looks and cries, — we run to fetch the
thing we think it wants. These beautiful affections,
the planting of the Lord in our own being, will be wit-
nesses against us if we maintain a distant reserve toward
our Father in heaven, and suspect him of unwillingness
to bestow the best gifts. Specifically and expressly, as
we know how to give good gifts unto our children, our
Father in heaven will much more give the Holy Spirit
to them that ask him. But pant for the Spirit, and the
aching, inarticulate emptiness, will draw the Spirit in.
IV.
"f)c shall k ^atisficb."
He shall see of tlie travail of his soul, and shall he satisfied. "
Isaiah liii. ii.
O ancient prophet gives clearer testimony to
Christ than Isaiah ; and nowhere else does
Isaiah more articulately proclaim the gospel
than here. In no other portion of the Old Testament
are the person and work of Immanuel more distinctly
revealed. This is one of those lattices in heaven at which
the Inheritor of its glory shows himself to the weeping
but watchful eye of a ransomed Church, kindling the very
love of espousals in an otherwise dark and widowed
breast. Let us draw near in company to behold this
great sight, a suffering Saviour, — a man burning in the
fire of God's anger against sin, and yet not consumed,
because that Man of sorrows is also the eternal God.
In this chapter the prophet describes first the suffering
of Christ, and then his triumph : in the earlier portion the
Son is seen going forth weeping, and bearing precious
seed ; in the later portion he is seen coming again with
HE SHALL BE SA TISFIED.
53
rejoicing-, bringing his sheaves with him. In the middle
of verse tenth the description of the suffering ceases, and
the fruits of victory begin to appear — " He shall see his
seed, he shall prolong his days, and the pleasure of the
Lord shall prosper in his hand. He shall see of the
travail of his soul, and shall be satisfied."
The text presents Christ's completed work in a poi-nt
of view different from that in which we are most accus-
tomed to regard it. The precise subject to which our
attention is invited is not what Christ is to believers, but
what believers are to Christ. The satisfaction of which
the prophet speaks is not the joy of a sinner in the
Saviour who redeems him, but the joy of the Saviour
over sinners whom he has redeemed. The redemption
of the lost is still the grand object of contemplation ; but
here it is contemplated as seen, not from earth, but from
heaven. We find here not a company of fallen men
looking unto Jesus, that they may be saved ; but Jesus
looking on a company of the saved, that he may be
satisfied.
On the Sabbath of our communion we are wont to
contemplate, in some of their aspects, '*the sufi'erings of
Christ," and this day shall be no exception to the rule ;
but I would fain ascend to his own stand-point, and see
those sufferings in the light in which they appear to him-
self We are invited to consider, not what we get out of
him, but what he gets out of us. It is the same finished
work which we have been wont to gaze upon since first
we learned the truth ; but we look on it now, not for the
54 HE SHALL BE SA TL SPIED.
safety that it brings to Christians, but for the satisfaction
that it affords to Christ.
It would be pleasant and profitable if we could occa-
sionally rise above the selfish, even in spiritual things,
and reach the sphere of generous emotions : if, through
the quickening Spirit, we could get past even the desire
of good for ourselves, and, in sympathy with the Lord
that bought us, partake of the joy that fills his soul as
he sees the success of his undertaking, we should as-
suredly be in a suitable frame for showing forth the
Lord's death. It is good to look from the place of a
needy sinner upwards in hope to the Lord ; but it is
better, after having tasted that the Lord is gracious, to
look with him, as he looks on the fruit of his suffering,
and rejoice with him that his soul has not travailed in
vain. It is good to get pardon and peace ; but it is
better to enter, while yet in the body, into the very joy
of the Lord, as he measures his triumph over Satan, and
counts his gains in redeemed men, and anticipates his
glory when he shall return in power to wind up the
history of the world.
I. The travail of his soul.
II. The fruit resulting from the travail of his soul.
III. The satisfaction which he enjoys.
The first two briefly ; the third, as the main feature of
the text, more fully.
I. The travail of his soul. — This seems to be a short
expression to indicate the whole of his humiliation, more
HE SHALL BE SATISFIED, 55
especially in its inner and more spiritual aspect. His
bodily sufferings, although they more easily touch us, —
as being more readily comprehended, — are yet compara-
tively a small part of his sorrow. His body was like our
bodies, and the sufferings that had their seat there were
more nearly allied to those that we are called to endure ;
but the sufferings that had their seat in his soul lie be-
yond our view, and beyond our comprehension. If we
could measure the greatness of his soul, we might then
form some adequate estimate of what his soul suffered
when it became sorrowful even unto death. We may,
however, take note of some of the ingredients that entered
into the cup, although we cannot measure the degree of
their bitterness : —
1. He who was from all eternity the beloved of his
Father put his glory off, and put on our nature.
2. He severed himself from the company of the holy
who loved and worshipped him, for the company of the
unholy who in feeble friendship vexed or in open enmity
crucified him.
3. ** He who knew no sin was made sin for us, that we
might be made the righteousness of God in him." I
cling to the very words of Scripture here, because not
being able to conceive aright the thing signified, I might
employ improper word-signs. True it is that he experi-
enced not the horrors which sin sometimes inflicts on a
guilty conscience — in this sense sin could not touch the
Holy One of God. But his holiness, instead of diminish-
ing, aggravated the pain implied in becoming sin for his
56 HE SHALL BE SATIS EI ED.
people. How he made sin his own, so as to bear it and
endure its punishment, while himself remained holy,
harmless, undefiled, separate from sinners, we cannot
fully comprehend ; but we know that he so made sin his
own that all his people are for ever relieved of their dark
inheritance. And most certainly the holiness of his being
did not render the contact of sin less, but more loath-
some. In very proportion as his soul is holier than ours,
the travail of his soul was deeper when sin was laid upon
him as the Lamb of God, that he might take it away.
4. He met personally with the person of the wicked
one in our quarrel. True, the strong man was by the
stronger overcome, that the captive might be set free ;
but the agony of soul lay in this, that Jesus the Son of
God closed in a death-grapple with the spirit of evil. He
must needs extend his arms and grasp the wicked one,
in order to crush him. In the contact lay the agony of
Immanuel's soul. In himself the eternal Son was beyond
the tempter's reach. All the wiles of the devil could not
touch him, either to defile or to grieve ; but when in our
nature, and with our sin, he undertook all our cause, his
meeting with the wicked one, if it was not to him danger-
ous, because he is the Holy, was yet on that very account
a heavier travail of his soul. He must needs meet and
touch, and, as it were, embrace the devil and all his vile-
ness, that he might quench the fiery darts of the wicked
one for us. By his stripes we are healed.
5. His heart was often sore vexed by ignorance, self-
ishness, unfaithfulness, even of his own selected disciples.
HE SHALL BE SATISFLED.
57
Having left for them the society of the pure and blessed,
he found the embrace of his friends Hke thorns in his
breast.
6. The people for whose sake he came into the world
— the Israel among whom he was born and bred — would
none of him. Over Jerusalem, loved and longed for, he
was left to weep bitter tears.
7. The office of the priesthood, which he loved and
honoured as God's institute to hold up the promise of
redemption, was by those who held it prostituted to
reject the counsel of God.
8. But alone, and above all, incomprehensible to us, yet
awful both for the part that we know and the part that
we know not, is the desertion by the Father, and the
final descent of wrath, due to sin, on the Redeemer's
soul ; — when the Father's vengeance, and that vengeance
just, fell full on the beloved of the Father; and that
beloved One, knowing that it was a righteous retribution
for the guilt that he had assumed as the substitute of
sinners, could not challenge the sentence as unjust, but
wailed like a suffering child, " My God, my God, why
hast thou forsaken me } "
Alas, even though our words were all right, how small
a portion of the thing that they express can our minds
take in ! In dealing with the travail of our Redeemer's
soul, we are like a child writing down in figures the
national debt of the country. The figures are soon
written, and they are all correct ; but how much of the
mighty meaning has entered the mind of that child t
58 HE SHALL BE SA TISFLED.
II. The fniit that rcsidts from the travail of his soul. —
It is not to the sufferings in themselves that the Re-
deemer looks. Herein appears the greatness of his love.
He looks over and past the travail of his soul, and fixes
his regards on the results that it secures. The corn of
wheat must fall into the ground and die ; but that fall
and that dying, although they involved the travail of his
soul, he. passes by, and regards with eager interest the
fruit that follows — the life that grows upon death — life
of many on the death of one — the life of his people from
the dying of himself in their stead. The fruit is that
twofold gain which was celebrated in the angels' song at
the birth of Christ : " Glory to God in the highest, and
peace on earth to the children of men." It is not merely
the deliverance of a lost world from the doom it deserved ;
it is the honour given to God by that deliverance. The
means and end are linked together as the stalk and the
grain in the cornfield : by the redemption of sinners God
is glorified ; and this double blessing is the fruit spring-
ing out of his soul's travail to which the risen Redeemer
looks back yet with joy.
Already God was glorious as the wise creator and
kind preserver of holy beings who delight to do his will.
Already God was glorious as the righteous judge and
terrible avenger condemning the transgressors and cast-
ing them away. But there is another glory that excelleth
these: God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, desired to dis-
play that peculiar glory. After exhibiting his goodness
in one class of his creatures, and his severity in another,
HE SHALL BE SATLSFIED, 59
he will concentrate both these beams of light upon one
middle spot, so making it of excelling beauty. He will
make mercy and justice meet, and will point to their
meeting-place for ever, as the fullest display that can be
made to creatures of their Maker's glory : that meeting-
place of mercy and judgment is the incarnate Son — God
with us. He is the brightness of his Father's glory, and
the express image of his person. And when he has
ascended up on high, he has left upon earth a people
renewed into his image, in whom some faint outline of
his likeness may be discerned. " Father, I am glorified
in them."
The Church that he has bought with his blood is the
fruit that springs from the travail of the Redeemer's soul.
The tempter bereft of his prey; earth beautified by
grace, like myrtles and roses blooming in a desert ; a
multitude whom no man can number admitted to stand
round the throne in white clothing, — these are fruits that
spring out of the travail of his soul.
That suffering of Immanuel held deserved wrath back
from falling on myriads whom God had made at first in
his own image ; it permitted God's mercy to flow full
upon the rebellious, without dishonouring the divine law;
it circumscribed within narrower limits the desolation
that sin had wrought in creation ; and proportionally
enlarged the sphere of actual holiness and blessedness
under the rule of the Supreme for ever.
But most of all : it gave- vent to an infinite mercy, — ■
opened a channel wherein the infinite but pent-up love
6g he shall be sa tisfied.
of God might freely flow. God is love : the exercise of
loving seems to be, as men speak, the very life of the
living God. The sacrifice of Christ opened a new world
as a field on which love might flow.
III. TJie satisfaction zvJiich the Savioiw experiences in
the results of tJie travail of his soul. — Let us endeavour
to realize that eager gaze with which the risen Redeemer
contemplates from his throne the fruit of his own suffer-
ings. It is not our look towards a completed redemp-
tion which we need, and without which we must perish.
This look is good and necessary ; but it is not the only
good and necessary thing. This we ought to do ; but
there is another we ought not to leave undone. We are
too apt to let the near horizon of our own need limit our
view. We think on the one hand of a sinner looking
from his depths with strong crying and tears, looking to
Jesus that he may be saved ; and of saints looking to
that same Jesus with joyful songs as their substitute and
their righteousness. But there are other lookers besides
anxious sinners and joyful saints ; and other points of
view besides those which these two classes respectively
occupy. Angels look in wonder towards the most won-
derful work of God. But besides all these, there is yet
another eye more constantly and more intently fixed on
the same all-attractive object — the fruit of the Re-
deemer's sufterings — and that eye is the Redeemer's
own. He does not pass by, when his saving effort has
been put forth, as if that were all. He lingers on the
HE SHALL BE SATLSIHED. 6r
spot, and looks and longs to see men actuall)^ saved
through his suffering for sin. " His delights were with
the sons of men " from the past eternity, in anticipation
of his saving work ; and now that the work is completed,
he is not content that his suffering should be fruitless.
As in his experience and according to his word, "It is
more blessed to give than to receive ; " so, conversely, it
is more painful to miss the greater blessing than to miss
the less. He rejoices more in giving salvation than men
in getting it ; and on the same principle, he longs more
earnestly to bestow than even his own long to get mercy
from his hand. The Head might adopt in even an in-
tensified form the plaintive language of the members ;
he might truly say, "My soul waiteth for you, more than
they that watch for the morning;" — more than weary be-
nighted watchers wait for the dawning of the day, the
Lord who suffered for us longs and looks for the multi-
tudes coming to himself for life, as the fruits of his
dying.
Why should He who inhabits the praises of eternity
bend over these ransomed men, as if they were his only
portion } This work that God gazes on is the greatest
work of God. In all the infinitude which his being per-
vades and his power controls, there is not any work
equal to this. When he beheld the result of his creating
word, he pronounced it good ; but when he beheld the
result of his redeeming work, his soul was satisfied.
After all that the Son of God has seen in the suc-
cessions of eternity and the contents of space, the end is
62 HE SHALL BE SA TISFIED.
not yet ; he does not say, It is enough. There remains
still a longing, still an unsatisfied desire. Passing all the
glories of earth and heaven as Samuel passed the sons
of Jesse, he does not fix in fullest complacency of choice
until the last and youngest born passes by. Then he is
arrested : This — this is he. This is he whom my soul
loveth. This satisfies my soul.
How comes it that this new creature is graven more
deeply on the heart of the Eternal Son than all his other
works 1 The text tells : those other possessions were
created by his word, or fashioned by his hand, but this
springs from the travail of his soul. " Can a woman for-
get her sucking child, that she should not have com-
passion on the son of her womb .'' " She may ; yet will
not the Redeemer forget his own. This comparison
suggests the reason of Christ's peculiar regard for those
who have been redeemed by his blood. He has tra-
vailed as in birth for them. His suffering in bringing
these sons to glory has graven them on his heart. We
speak of having Christ dwelling in our heart : it is well ;
this is a great attainment ; it is specifically our hope of
glory. But the converse is a greater thing : disciples
dwell in his heart, his hope of glory in the great day. It
was when his heart was poured out within him like
water, in suffering for their sins — it was when he was
melted in the furnace of the wrath of God, that their
persons and their interests, their names and images, were
printed into his being, never, never to be blotted out.
The names of the tribes, though engraved deep in precious
HE SHALL BE SATISFIED.
63
stones, might at last be worn off the high priest's breast-
plate ; but the name and the nature, the sorrows and the
joys, the hopes and the fears, of each believing man, are
stamped on the memory of Jesus, so that they shall be
for ever legible in the light of heaven. They were
printed into him at the dread hour when his soul was
made an offering for sin. It is because they cost him so
much that he cherishes them so fondly. They lay upon
his soul when it was exceeding sorrowful, even unto
death ; and all the weight of condemnation which he
bore went to impress their image on his heart. Now
they are part of himself, continually before him. " Saul,
Saul, why persecutest thou me V
The pardoning of sin is a unique and peculiar work of
God. It is not with him such a common and everyday
kind of operation, that he should do it and forget it as
soon as it is done. We have no reason to think that in
all the eternity of God's being, and in all his dependent
universe, it has ever happened except this once ; here on
our world, and in favour of our race. A thousand years
are with the Lord as one day, and all the breadth of the
world's history appears but as a point from the throne of
the Eternal ; and so the exercise of mercy to sinners is
one luminous point in infinitude. Might we not think,
after the manner of men, indeed, but true as far as it goes
— might we not think of God longing for the time ap-
pointed in his own counsel for the exercise of the attri-
bute in which he most delights } And when the fulness
of time had come, might we not think of Immanucl, God
64 HE SHALL BE SA TISFIED.
with US, luxuriating with pecuHar complacency in the
outflow oi" his own compassion, — a compassion which in
him is from everlasting the same, but whose objects in
creation were now for the first time found ? This is not a
limitation of the Infinite ; for it was his own wise counsel
that so arranged the plan.
We are limited creatures ; our capacity is small.
When something is wanting to complete the filling of
this little vessel, that something is not great. The long-
ing for it is correspondingly feeble. But think of it, when
the Son of God pines for want of what he loves and
needs, how great his longing must be ! — how great the
joy when he obtains all at length ! In proportion to his
essential greatness as God must be the strength of his
desire for what will satisfy him — must be the delight
of his soul when he obtains it. Eye hath not seen, nor ear
heard, neither has entered into the heart of man, how
much the Son of God desires to have saved men as the
fruit of his soul's travail, how much he rejoices when he
gets the satisfying of his soul. That which cost him less,
he less enjoys. Without the Son was not any thing made
that was made. He called the angels into being by his
word ; he strewed the vault of heaven with shining w^orlds,
and bade them by their movements show forth his praise;
he furnished this beautiful earth, and restrained the sea
within the hollow of his hand. As to all these, he spake
and it was done ; he commanded and they stood fast.
But to shield rebellious men from the wrath of God, and
yet honour God's law by the act ; to cleanse the morally
HE SHALL BE SA TISFIED. 6$
corrupt from the defilement of their nature, and restore
them to their place as sons of God ; to call the spiritually-
dead to life, and instil into the slave the spirit of adop-
tion ; to redeem, too, the body from corruption, and give
it a glory that should be suitable for heaven, — a word of
wisdom and a deed of power will not suffice. These
sons of God were placed so high, that when they fell, they
fell into a great deep. To lift them up again, his soul
must take their souls' place ; he must give himself an
offering for sin ; he must take their place under the
sentence, that they may obtain his in God's favour. He
suffered, the just for the unjust : it is this which makes
the ransomed so dear to their Redeemer. Those for
whom his soul travailed satisfy his soul.
Are there some here who have taken refuge in Christ,
and have now peace in believing } You rejoice in your
Saviour. I shall tell you another truth : your Saviour
rejoices over you. Do you experience a secret shrinking
from this announcement, as if it put you in a place in-
consistent with the humility which becomes you in view
of your own worthlessness } This shrinking is the result
of a mistake ; the value that Christ sets upon the souls
that he has saved does not rest on their worth. It is not
your goodness ; it is his own love. Judge even by your-
selves : if you should happen to be at hand when a poor
man has fallen into the water, and is on the point of be-
ing drowned ; and if you should, in obedience to the best
impulses left in nature, plunge in, and with a strong arm
rescue him who was ready to perish, you would that
(512) 5
66 HE SHALL BE SA TISFIED.
night have very pleasant reflections of the day. You
would be happier than the man who by a sudden stroke
has made a fortune. You are full of joy : you reflect on
the travail, the risk and effort of saving ; you reflect on
the travail of your soul, and are satisfied. Suppose the
poor beggar whom you rescued should hear of your joy;
suppose he should take it into his head that you were
entertaining a very exalted notion of his worth ; and sup-
pose that in a fit of modesty he should seek admission
into your presence, and intimate, by way of diminishing
your delight, that he is a man of very ordinary character
indeed. You would resent the impertinent intrusion.
Your satisfaction had not reference to his worth or his
unworthiness : it had reference, on one side, only to his
need ; and on the other, to those instincts of your nature
which still remain true, and delight in the act of saving a
fellow-creature from death.
Thus it is altogether out of place for a believer who
has been redeemed by Christ to shrink back from the
doctrine of this text, as if it made much of his worth. It
makes nothing of your worth. It acknowledges nothing
on your side but the deepest want, and on Christ's side a
supreme satisfaction in saving him who is ready to perish.
Are there here some who have been in a measure con-
vinced of sin, and have begun to inquire, " What must we
do to be saved } " And are these held back from hope,
as not daring to believe that the Holy One of God would
come so close and do so much for them, and that because
they are not good t " What think ye of Christ," brethren .?
HE SHALL BE SATLSFIED. 67
You seem to think him a sort of Pharisee, who would
associate only with the good, and turn away his head
from a sinner. You seem to credit him with a disregard
of the neediest, and a desire to keep company with those
who will cost him nothing. Ah, brethren, it was for the
unworthy that his soul travailed ; and when he sees, as
the fruit of his sufferings, the unworthy trusting in his
blood, this sight satisfies his soul. Search and see : per-
haps this fear is a deeply disguised hypocrisy. Perhaps
your inmost heart is unwilling to part with its idols, and
sets up as an excuse for not coming to Christ, that it is
afraid Christ will not receive such an one. Him that
Cometh he will in no wise cast out. But are you willing
to come }
Are there some here who are Christians in word, but
not in deed, — who wear an outside profession, but will
not permit Christ to reign in their hearts. Ah, friends,
I speak not at present of danger to you, I remind you
rather of disappointment to the Lord. You are not get-
ting a Saviour ; but more than that, the Saviour is not
getting you. His meat is to do the will of Him that sent
him, — that is, to win souls ; but you, by refusing to ask
and accept his redeeming love, you are grieving Christ,
you are mocking his tears, — you are giving him a stone
instead of bread.
V.
^h^ J[ir0t f romisc.
<c
And I will put enmity between thee and the woman, and between thy seed
and her seed. " — Genesis hi. 15.
HE feeble beginning of a great thing inspires
you with reverence, if you know as you look
upon it the greatness of its issue. When a
traveller has at length reached the source of the Nile,
and gazes upon the well's eye among the central moun-
tains of Africa where the mighty river has its birth, he is
filled with wonder and awe. His emotion, however, is
not due to the sight which then and there he looks upon :
it is the greatness of the full-grown river that imparts so
much interest to the infant spring. A native who sees
that spring every day, looks upon it lightly, because he
has never seen the infant in its manhood — knows not
that the infant has a mighty manhood far away.
Here, in this verse, first springs a river which flows
right through the broad wilderness of Time, refreshing
every generation as they pass ; and will yet, beyond the
boundary, make glad for ever the city of our God. In
THE FIRST PROMISE. 69
this verse the gospel of grace takes its rise. If we saw
only the tiny spring, we should not be able fully to esti-
mate its importance. It is our knowledge of the king-
dom in its present dimensions and its future prospects
that invests with so much grandeur this first, short mes-
sage, of mercy from God to man. We know the import
of that message better than they who heard it first.
And yet, as the negro native on the mountains near the
sources of the Nile can drink and satisfy his thirst from
the tiny rill that constitutes the embryo river, while he
who sails on its broad bosom near the sea can do no
more ; so those who lived in the earliest days of grace
might satisfy their souls at the narrow stream then flow-
ing, as well as those who shall be found dwelling on the
earth at the dawn of the millennial day. From the feeble
stream that burst through the stony ground near the
closed gate of Paradise righteous Abel freely drank the
water of life : the same, and no more, shall they do who
shall see the knowledge of the Lord covering the earth
in the latter day. God opened a spring in the desert as
soon as there were thirsty souls sojourning there.
Here, as we have said, the Gospel springs. But this is
not the beginning of mercy. Its date is more ancient ;
its fountain-head is higher. " God is love : " there, if you
will trace mercy to its ultimate source — there Redemption
springs, thence Redemption flows. From that upper
spring it came ; and having found its way through secret
channels, it burst forth here, in the form of the primeval
promise, at the feet of the fallen race. " From the Father
70 THE FIRST PROMISE.
of lights Cometh down every good and perfect gift."
From him, first and last, the gift unspeakable has come.
Thus sprang that common water in Jacob's well, of
which although the thirsty drink, he shall thirst again.
If it had not fallen first from heaven, it would not have
boiled up through rifts in the rock. Such also is the law
which the living water obeys. It springs in the wilder-
ness, and follows the pilgrim's path, because it has first
dropped in showers from heaven. Love to the lost
springs in the first page of the Bible, at the beginning of
time, because it dwelt in God without limit from eter-
nity.
At present I propose to deal only with the first clause
of the verse — the promise that enmity shall be generated
between the serpent and the woman — between his seed
and hers. But even on this limited field I must make a
selection. Many things must be assumed ; for to pause
and expound each preliminary idea would detain us all
our allotted time in the vestibule ; so that we could not,
on this occasion at least, penetrate into the temple where
the mercy-seat is shining, illumined by its own light.
One or two things of an introductory character must
be at least stated, inasmuch as they are essential to the
comprehension of the main lesson. And the first of
these is the existence and agency of an evil spirit, the
enemy of man. On this subject it is easy to raise formi-
dable difficulties. If we should launch into speculation
regarding what is possible in this sphere, or what is con-
sistent with the power and the goodness of God, we
THE FIRST PROMISE. 71,
should very soon lose our way. I confine myself to the
region of facts. Moral evil exists, and spreads like a
flood over the world. This no sober man can deny, or,
without Scripture, explain. The Bible, with wonderful
explicitness, and with as wonderful reserve, proclaims
and denounces the author and introducer of sin. " Didst
thou not sow good seed in thy ground ?" said the sur-
prised and grieved servants to their Master ; " whence,
then, hath it tares .'^" "An enemy hath done this," said
the Lord. To make sure that no reader should fail to
lay open the folds of the figure, and gather the kernel of
revealed truth which lay beneath them, he afterwards
explained without a parable : " The enemy that sowed
them is the Devil." Here let the speculations of Chris-
tians cease. I rest in this : I thank my Lord for this
word. It tells two cheering truths : first, that the enemy
is not God ; and, second, that though sin has now deeply
tinged our nature, our nature is not in its essence and
always sinful. Man has been damaged by the impact of
evil after he came from his Maker's hands ; and the
damage, now that help has been laid on the Mighty,
may be removed. There is a healing for the deadly
wound.
- The enemy, in this text and in other instances all
through the Scripture, is impersonated as the serpent.
Now a series of lessons directly practical : —
. I. There is a kind of friendship or alliance between
the destroyer and his dupe. The root of the ailment
lies here. It was by an alliance with the serpent that
72 THE FIRST PROMISE.
sin was introduced : it is the continuance of that alliance
that gives sin its power in the world still. If the first
pair had not entered into a covenant with the Wicked
One, there would not have been a fall.
Neither at the first nor at any subsequent period has
the enemy come forward as an enemy, declaring war,
and depending on the use of force. Not the power, but
the wiles of the Devil have we cause to dread. If either
he or we should assume the attitude of adversary, our
cause were won. Knowing that he lacks power to
destroy God's creatures, he simulates friendship, and per-
suades them to destroy themselves. On the other hand,
if we count and treat the Devil as an enemy, \ve shall
overcome him. The principle is expressed in the psalm —
"When I cry unto thee, then shall mine enemies turn back.
This I know, for God is for me" (Ps. Ivi. 9). The turning
point is, " When I cry." It means, when I am no longer
in with my destroyer, I have the Omnipotent on my
side. It is when we are traitors to ourselves that the
adversary gains the advantage.
When evil spirits dwelt and ruled in living men during
the period of the Lord's personal ministry, there seems
to have been a fast bond of friendship between the
Tempter and the tempted. The captive was a willing
captive : if he had not been willing, he would not have
been a captive. The man was on the side of the evil
spirit that possessed him. His lips obeyed the vile
inspiration, and replied to Jesus, " What have we to do
with thee.?"
THE FIRST PROMISE. 73
It is here that the Tempter's power lies to-day. If we
were not on his side, he could do us no harm. The City
of Mansoul has walls and bulwarks impregnable by all
the power of the Wicked One. The adversary could
neither force the gates nor undermine the ramparts. It
is only when the inhabitant Soul within, turning traitor
to itself and its rightful King, admits the enemy by a
postern, that the defences can be won.
A soul in love with the lust that defiles it, is led
captive by that lust. The difficulty lies here. There is
help at hand ; but the sinner, in love with his sin, does
not want a helper. A soul's love of sin is the hinge on
which the loss of a soul turns. It is not Avise, in the
treatment either of ourselves or of others, to despise the
pleasures of sin. It is quite true that they are poison-
ous, and will ultimately destroy ; but it is also true that
they are sweet, and have power to entice.
2. Enmity must be engendered between these two-
friends. The first and fundamental necessity of the case
is that the friendship should be dissolved. As long as
the adversary by his wiles succeeds in making it sweet,
and as long as the dupe loves it, so long is the captive
held. Nothing in heaven or earth can do a sinner any
good until he has fallen out with his own sin I
A well-beloved son of an honoured house has taken
up with an unprincipled companion. The favourite has
obtained, and maintains the mastery over the youth.
Coaxing and threatening are alike unavailing. The
dupe loves . his destroyer — and loves more fondly the
74 THE FIRST PROMISE,
more he is reproved for his mad devotion. The
patient will not begin to amend until that love be con-
verted into loathing; You cannot by any appliance do
him any good as long as he dotes upon a lewd com-
panion. When that friendship is dissolved you may
lead the prodigal home, but not till then. The case of
a human spirit and its own destroyer is more difficult in
this respect, that you cannot separate the lovers as long
as they are lovers. Although it is defective as being
outward and mechanical, still a physical separation
effected by a parent's authority between his bewitched
child and his child's bewitcher may produce a diversion
in favour of the right. Although the cure is not com-
plete until the heart repudiates its corrupt affection, the
evil results may be in some measure diminished by an
enforced separation. The offended but loving father has
still the resource left, of forbidding the ensnarer his house,
— a resource which, although defective at best as a cure,
is by no means despicable as an alleviation. But in the
case of a fast friendship between a human spirit and its
own tempter, no such resource is open. The enchanter
comes and goes unseen. The enchanted opens the door
to admit his destroyer, and none can observe the fact
Hearts open their gates in secret for secret intercourse
with thoughts. Seven devils may possess a man while
he bows his head like a bulrush in the house of God.
Spirits come and go, like bees to and from their hive,
with this difference, that they are not seen at all. No
watch that another may set can scare away these mid-
THE FIRST PROMISE. ^5
night visitors, or put to shame their entertainers. Not a
beginning of good to the soul can be made, until enmity-
begin between the soul and its sin.
Nor will a simulated enmity be of any avail. The
alliance has been real for the soul's undoing : the rupture
must be real ere the soul can be saved. A man may
repeat many unexceptionable prayers for the pardon of
his sin, and deliverance from its power, and yet all the
while be as much in love with it as ever, hugging it in his
bosom, and determined not to let it go. " The heart is
deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked." To
keep up appearances, it will hypocritically call on God to
take sin away, while it is determined to hold it fast. The
man cries out in presence of his neighbours, — " Cut off
this right hand; pluck out this right eye;" while he holds
to these members as to life, and will not let them go.
3. God will put enmity between a man and the enemy
who has enticed, and so overcome him. When created
beings are involved in sin, as a law of their being they
cannot break off by an effort or wish of their own. The
spirit that launches once into rebellion against God, goes
on helplessly in rebellion for ever, unless an almighty
arm, guided by infinite love, be stretched out to
arrest the fallen, — the falling star. Matter is passive :
when it is placed at rest, it remains at rest ; when it is
set in motion, it continues in motion for ever, unless
something external to itself stop its progress. A world
set in motion through space can no more stop its motion
than it could begin it.
76 THE FIRST PROMISE.
The law that rules spirits seems to be similar. When
the holy in heaven have been thrown forth into a career
of holy obedience, as the planets were launched in their
courses, they will run in that race for ever. Like the
sun in his course shall the righteous be, running their '
race rejoicing — with this difference, that they shall never
grow dim with age, and never stand still. On the other
hand, when the apostate are given over, — cast out of
God's hand, — they go on in that course without turning.
Their progress is towards the blackness of darkness for
ever.
Like the outcast are the sinful now. In all but one
thing, — their day of mercy has not run out. God has
not given them over. This makes the difference. From
edge to edge of time his hand is felt interfering. He
never ceases to strive with man, until he has passed the
border of the allotted day, and entered into night.
When the Lord Jesus looked down on the inhabitants of
Jerusalem with their day of grace done, he wept over
them.
It is profitable to remember that we are helpless. It
is only a cry out of the depths that will reach heaven,
and bring help from One that is mighty. " Lord, save
me, I perish," is a prayer that reaches the Redeemer's
ear : it melts his heart, and moves his hand.
The special step, or turning-point, which lies beyond
the power of man, and is competent only to God, is to
put enmity between the serpent and the woman — be-
tween her seed and his. To dissolve the friendship
THE FIRST PROMISE. 77
between a soul and its sin belongs to the hand of God
in the covenant of grace. To put enmity between a
man and the devil who inhabits his heart — to change his
affections, so that he shall henceforth loathe what he
formerly loved, and love what he formerly loathed, — this
is God's prerogative. " Create in me a clean heart,
O God ; and renew a right spirit within me."
He is offering to do it : he is doing it now. He is
pressing on our spirits as the atmosphere leans upon the
earth, — pressing to sever the bond by which the Tempter
holds the will a captive. This is proved by the evan-
gelical precept, " Quench not the Spirit." It is proved
by the threatening, " My Spirit shall not always strive
with man." '' Not always strive : " that warning intimates
that he strives long — is striving now. Yield yourselves
unto God : he is striving, he is pressing now.
4. Notice now the relation which Christ our Redeemer
bears to the breach of peace between a man and his
Tempter. Over and above the promise that enmity will
be put between the serpent and the woman, it is said in
the text that enmity will be put between his seed and
hers. We are guided by the Spirit of inspiration in the
interpretation of this clause. We know certainly from
Scripture, "her seed" means first and chiefly the second
Adam, the Lord from heaven. As enmity between the
two friends must be generated, and as only God can
efficiently kindle that enmity, so it is only through
Christ the Mediator that such a breach could be made.
Enmity between the parties could not spontaneously
78 THE FIRST PROMISE.
arise. One of the two, the Tempter, would riot ; the
other, the tempted, could not. Left to ourselves, it
would have been, once in, always in. A fast friendship
with our destroyer would have been the history of the
human race. The serpent holds the bird charmed, and
so devours it. The drugged spirit, steeped in the indul-
gence of the sin it loved, would never have awakened
out of sleep, and never broken the spell. But the
Mediator accomplished the work. He undertakes a
work of separation, as well as a work of union. He
breaks before he binds : he breaks in order that he may
bind. He has undertaken first to convert an old love
into a new enmity ; and next to convert an old enmity
into a new love. The branch is cut out of the old root,
and then graflfed into the good Vine. The task of alien-
ating friends is one part of Christ's mission, and the
work of reconciling enemies is another. He does both.
The one cannot be done without the other. As there is
no way of introducing day without dispelling the night,
so there is no way of reconciling us to God without also
producing an enmity where a friendship had existed,
between our souls and their sin. He made an end of
sin, by making an end of the peace between man pos-
sessed and the evil spirit possessing. As our representa-
tive he met the Tempter, and for us began the quarrel.
He hated evil perfectly, eternally, unchangeably. The
evil spirits, whenever he approached, felt the breath of
his holiness like a consuming fire. "Who art thou,
Jesus } Art thou come to torment us } "
THE FIRST PROMISE. 79
We need and get Christ as Mediator on either side.
He is Mediator between God and man, for reconcihng
the alienated ; he is Mediator between man and Satan,
for alienating the united. As his acceptance with the
Father is our acceptance with the Father, when we are
found in him ; so his breach with the adversary is our
breach, when we are found in him. His twofold mission is,
to break up one friendship, and begin another. Upward
and heavenward, Christ's work for us is to reconcile those
who were at enmity : downward and sinward, his work
for us is to produce enmity between those who were
friends. He came not to send peace on earth. He
came to kindle a fire — a fire of irreconcilable hatred,
where peace had reigned before, between each repenting
sinner and his own besetting sin. And, oh! how ardently
he wills — wishes, that the fire should be kindled im-
mediately.
As is the Head, so are the members. He is at enmity
with the Wicked One. When we are in him, we are heirs
to his wars on the one side as well as to his friendships
on the other. We partake of his hates as well as of his
loves. These two, indeed, are one. To be at enmity
with our own sin is the under side of being reconciled
to God by the death of his Son ; and to be reconciled
to God by the death of his Son is the upper side of
hatred to all unholiness. Christ's members, in virtue of
their union to him, hate what he hates, and love what he
loves ; and these two are one.
5. The part which Christians act in the quarrel. Christ
So THE FIRST PROMISE.
was the first-fruits in this enmity ; but afterwards, they
that are Christ's. In him the strife began ; and it is
continued in his members after the Head is exalted. The
feud is hereditary, inextinguishable, eternal. The Church
on earth is the Church militant ; that is, the Church
soldiering. There is another wing of the grand army,
called the Church triumphant. Those who remain in
the body wield the sword : those who have been ad-
mitted into heaven wave the palm and v/ear the crown.
The real business in hand for Christians is not heaven,
but holiness. The issue may be left in the Leader's
hands : the duty of the soldiers is to stand where they
are placed, and strike as long as they see a foe. Until
the trumpet shall sound, calling the weary to rest, our
part is to fight. Woe to the deceiver who fraternizes
with the enemy, or strikes with half his force a feeble
blow ! The kingdom of heaven is within you ; within
you, therefore, its battles must be fought and its victories
won. Strike, and spare not for their crying.
It is not a languid expectation of an easy heaven ;
it is a battle that is before us to-day. He is the best
soldier in the warfare who hates most his Sovereign's
enemy and his own. Polluting lust is the spark that
kindles hell : there is no other way of being saved from
that burning than by stamping out the embers of sin
that lie hidden in the ashes of your own heart. "The
God of peace shall bruise Satan under your feet shortly."
Sweet promise ! yea, sweet promise and stern command,
united together as firmly as the warp and the woof of
THE FIRST PROMISE. 8i
the garment that you wear. Take it whole, and it will
cover you ; but take one half, and the other will fall
asunder, like loose threads, and leave the wearer naked.
God will subdue the adversary ; but he will subdue him
under your feet. You must yield yourselves as his in-
struments to crush with your own will all the old serpent's
folds.
A winged creature, a timid, feeble dove, is held captive
in a tiger's claws. The tyrant, sure of his morsel, does
not instantly devour it. It is his instinct to play with
it a while, as if to whet his appetite. He lets it go, and
seizes it again. This he does, once, twice, often. In a
moment, in the pauses of the cruel sport, the feeble bird
gets wing, and flies. Up, up it soars ; away and away
into the blue, while the greedy, cruel monster, gnashes
his hungry teeth, and looks after it in impotent rage.
So a bird escapes from the destroyer's gin ; so a soul
escapes from the enemy of the soul.
(512) G
VI.
(I
|3ragcr tuith ^hanksgibing/'
' Be careful for nothing ; but in every thing by prayer and supplication
with thanksgiving let your requests be j?iade known 7into God.'''' — Philip-
PIANS iv. 6.
HE two precepts of this verse balance each
other. Both must be included in one view.
The first, especially, would be misunderstood
if it stood alone. The first forbids carefulness ; the
second enjoins prayerfulness. These two precepts are so.
connected by the particle " but " as to exclude each
other. You may have either, but you cannot have both.
The careful is not prayerful ; the prayerful is not careful.
These two seem to lie before us for our choice ; and a
heavenly monitor comes to tell us which is the good part.
Put away the care, and betake yourself to prayer. Do
not attempt to bear the government on your own shoul-
ders, but cast your burden on the Lord. Do not cumber
and crush your spirit by the many things not needful ;
but go to Jesus' feet and await his will.
The apostles followed the Lord in their doctrinal teach-
PRAYER WITH THANKSGIVING, 83
ing more closely than most readers of the Bible perceive.
I think in balancing the two precepts of this verse, Paul
had Martha and Mary in his eye. Be not careful, Martha:
sit like Mary at the Redeemer's feet. Do not attempt to
be a god unto yourself: avouch the Lord to be your God.
It is not in man that walketh to direct his steps. " Com-
mit thy way unto the Lord ; trust also in him ; and he shall
bring it to pass. And he shall bring forth thy righteous-
ness as the light, and thy judgment as the noonday."
The first clause points only to such carefulness as is
inconsistent with prayerfulness. Whatever kind and
degree of care can go along with a simple trust in God
at every turn, is lawful and right. The apostle forbids
only that atheistic care which asserts the government of
life for the creature, and refuses to cast its burden for
time and eternity on the Lord. In husbandry we are
fellow-workers with God ; he prescribes our specific work,
and undertakes his own. So also in the culture of human
spirits, our own and others, as a field for fruit unto God ;
Paul must plant, ApoUos water, and God giveth the in-
crease.
Consider now the second and larger of the two pre-
cepts by itself. Henceforth we confine our regard to
the specific and minute injunction regarding prayer: "In
every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving
let your requests be made known unto God."
I shall endeavour to explain the three clauses of the
text separately and in succession, beginning, however,
with the last and ascending to the first.
84 P/^A YER WITH THANKSGIVING.
I. Let your requests be made known unto God.
11. By prayer and supplication with thanksgiving.
III. In everything.
I. Let your requests be made knozvji unto God.
'^Requests!' — All creatures are dependent. The earth
by dumb signs asks rain from heaven to refresh its dust,
and make it fruitful. The air asks continual supply of
moisture out of its store-house in the ocean. The ocean
itself, although it is sometimes, on account of its compara-
tive vastness, considered an emblem of immensity, yet
seeks and gets its wants made up by the constant inflow
of all the rivers. All are needy, none self-existent : all
seek their supply, and obtain it, from Him in whom all
fulness dwells. Living creatures, too, seek their meat
from God. These all wait on him. That which he
scatters on the ground they gather.
Man, with the greatest capacity, is distinguished from
the rest by the greatest need. As the child in the human
family is much more dependent on a parent's care than
the young of other creatures, so man himself, the child
of God's family, needs much more from the heavenly
Father's hand. The capacity of man is very great ; and
when he is empty, it requires much to fill the void.
How many times a man of threescore and ten has
breathed since first he saw the light ! All these years,
summer and winter, day and night, he has every moment
been opening his mouth wide, and every time getting it
filled with vital air. How vast the supply of air pro-
PRAYER WITH THANKSGIVING. 85
vided, and how closely it lies to his lips ! A whole
heaven full overhead, and the edge of it continually lean-
ing on our lips wherever we go. We do not need, when
we travel, to provide waggons to carry our breathing
air with us. Like the water out of the rock, it follows us
in plenty all the way. The act of breathing seems an
emblem at once ofthe creature's continual need, and the
Creator's abundant supply. With us there is emptiness,
with him there is fulness ; and, as in the case of breath-
ing, the emptiness of the creature draws supply from God.
His goodness has compassed us about, like the atmos-
phere ; and when we open our mouth, it is filled with
good.
"Let your requests be made known itnto God:'' The
lower part of our nature we have in common with the
beasts, and God supplies its wants as he supplies theirs.
He gives us breath when we sleep, and are as uncon-
scious as the cattle grazing in the field. But God desires
company among his creatures. He did not find among
them any one fit for communion with himself, until he
had made man in his own image. He made an intelli-
gent being, that he might have intercourse with the work
of his own hands. We have had fathers of our flesh who
loved to supply the wants of their children. Inconceiv-
ably greater is God's delight in hearing the requests and
supplying the wants of those whom he made to be his
children. Fathers of our flesh are subject to two infir-
mities— a defective love in their hearts, and a defective
supply in their hands ; that is, they sometimes will not.
86 PR A YER WITH THANKSGIVING.
and sometimes cannot, give what their children desire.
But our Father in heaven is not limited on either side ;
his joy, therefore, in hearing prayer and answering it, is
full.
Further: when man fell, and the relation was broken
off, — when the branch was withered, and the channel by
which the Vine had supplied it was conclusively shut up,
he was not willing that it should continue shut. At a
great price, by the sacrifice of his own Son, he opened
the channel again. So much did God delight in giving
to supply the need of men, that when that relation was
broken off by our sin, he restored it again, by a new and
living way through the blood of the Lamb, that he
might enter again into his own peculiar joy, — the joy of
giving to the needy at their cry.
God has through Christ made known his fulness ;
surely we should through Christ make known to him our
need. " Yotir requests ; " your own ; not what other people
have asked, or what you have learned to repeat. Jesus
took a little child and set him in the midst of his disciples,
and said they must receive the kingdom like this little
child. Even among his own chosen followers, who were
in the main true, he was grieved with their formal
Pharisaism. There was much of what was put on, —
things done by imitation and by custom. He longed to
have his disciples free from mere earthly conventionality;
he loathed all that was unreal. The atoms of the unreal
and formal that mingled in their service, were to him
like stones in the bread that he ate. Give me, he said, a
PR A YER WITH THANKSGIVING. 87
little child's simplicity. The wants it cries for are its
own wants ; the cries it utters, whether intelligent or not,
are real, and not feigned. They spring like water in a
well. Such are the prayers that God loves to hear.
Not long, or short ; elegant, or rude ; printed, or ex-
temporaneous— not these. What then } what requests
does he love to hear } " Your requests."
" Such pity as a father hath
Unto his children dear ;
Like pity shews the Lord to such
As worship him in fear." (Ps. ciii. 13.)
Search and see what element it is in the request of his
little child that goes like an arrow to a parent's heart,
filling that heart with delight, and opening sluices for a
flood of gifts — it is this, they are the own requests of
his own child. '^ Yotir requests." This quality oi yours
will cover a multitude of sins against grammar and other
earthly laws.
II. By prayer and supplication with tJianksgiviiig.
" Prayer!' — This is the soul's believing and reverential
approach unto God. It is the prelude or preface alike
to the request and the thanksgiving. It is the act of
getting yourself introduced, and the intercourse begun.
The pattern prayer which Jesus dictated contains this
part at its commencement, in the words, " Our Father
who art in heaven." This, you perceive, is neither a
request nor a thanksgiving. It is neither a petition for
some benefit nor an ascription of praise. These both
i58 PRAYER WITH THANKSGIVING.
follow. The supplications accompanied with the thanks-
giving immediately follow ; but this appellation goes
first. This is the sharp point sent upward first, to make
way for the prayer that is about to follow.
^^ Siipplicationy — This term specifically means the re-'
quest the suppliant prefers. But while the word means
asking, its radical signification is zvant. It indicates, in
its origin, emptiness, need ; and thence it came to mean
a craving for supply. It means the need which demands
supply, or the asking which springs from a sense of
emptiness. The six petitions of the Lord's Prayer con-
stitute the supplication.
" WitJi tJianksgivingr — This does not mean that the
supplication and the thanksgiving necessarily in all cases
refer to the same thing. Indeed, the ordinary rule is
quite the reverse. The supplication is sent up for some-
thing which at the moment you do not possess; whereas
the thanksgiving is ofTered on account of something that
you have already obtained.
Assuming what has been already explained, that the
first, the prayer, is the introduction or approach of the
soul to God — the opening of the conference, clearing
the way alike for supplication and for praise — let us
now fix our thoughts on the union and relation of
these two constituent elements of a soul's communion
with God — these two, asking for mercies, and offering
thanks.
Notice, first of all, the peculiar form of the phraseology,
— " Supplication with thanksgiving." It seems to intimate
PRAYER WITH THANKSGIVING. 89
that we are apt to leave out this latter ingredient, and to
warn us that the omission of this will vitiate all. To ply
the asking, without the song of praise, seems like taking
some ingredients of the physician's prescription and
leaving out one. The want of that one renders the
whole application of none effect. *' With thanksgiving,"
— this should accompany every prayer.
The currents of grace run in circles as well as those
of nature. The electric current does not ^o along the
wire unless it comes back through the earth to complete
the circle. A picture of it is seen in a well-known
apparatus for ventilation. A tube divided longitudinally
into two, or two tubes joined together, stretch from the
interior of a building through the roof into the air. The
air flows up through one lobe of the tube out of the
building, and down through the other lobe into the
building. When the process is set agoing it continues.
But if you stop the ascending current, you thereby also
make the descending current to cease; and if you stop
the descending current, the ascending one is arrested
too.
A fact in the ministry of the Lord contains the same
lesson that is here taught by his apostle. Indeed the
apostle is here only exercising his function of explaining
the lessons of the Master's life. The ten lepers came to
Jesus with prayer and supplication. They lifted up
their voices and said, " Jesus, Master, have mercy on us."
He gave them their request. But only one of the ten
put in his request with thanksgiving ; only one remem-
90 PRAYER Wiril THANKSGIVING.
bered to put that ingredient in his communion with the
Lord ; only one continued the circle, and answered the
getting of mercy by the giving of praise. The Lord
marked and mentioned the omission. He felt well
pleased with the circle of communion completed in the
one who returned to give thanks ; but he left on record
for all ages his disappointment with those who greedily
snatched the gift and forgot the Giver : '* Were there not
ten cleansed t but where are the nine } "
When there is spiritual life, the weight of God's
mercies pressing down forces the sacrifice of thanks-
giving up. The pressure of the air does not make the
heavy, sluggish water rise ; whatever weight of air may
press upon it, the water lies heavy in its bed. But when
water is etherealized into vapour, then the weight of the
air makes the vapour rise. The load of benefits that
pressed on the nine lepers, finding their souls dull and
dead, did not move them upwards; but the same load on
the one Samaritan, finding him spiritually quickened,
pressed his thanksgiving up to the Throne.
The circulations of the ocean constitute a plain and
permanent picture of these relations between a human
soul and a redeeming God. The sea is always drawing
what it needs down to itself, and also always sending up
of its abundance into the heavens. It is always getting,
and always giving. So, when in the covenant the true
relation has been constituted, the redeemed one gets and
gives, gives and gets ; draws from God a stream o£
benefits, sends up to God the incense of praise.
PR A YER WITH THANKSGIVING, 91
III. In every tiling. In every tiling prayer zuitli tliafiks-
giving.
I. "7/2 every thing prayer!' — Approach to God and
make your requests known at all times, in all places, and
about all things. It is not in some great emergencies
that you should pray, and transact the lesser affairs of
life on your own account Not on the Sabbath only,
but on all the days of the week. Not only in the church,
or in the prayer-meeting, but in the work-shop and the
counting-house. Not only before and after religious
solemnities, but also in connection with your gain, or
your rest, or your relaxation.
Our Father takes it ill if we send in our request for
the pardon of sin, but ask not his counsel about the
choice of a companion, or an investment in trade.
He is not a man of little faith who puts little things
into his prayer. That very thing shows him to be a
man of great faith. A feeble pulsation in the heart may
keep the life-blood circulating for a while near the centre
and in the vitals ; but it requires a great strong life in
the heart to send the blood down into the tips of the
fingers, and make it circulate through the outmost,
smallest branches of the veins. In like manner, it is
the strongest spiritual life that animates the whole course,
even to the minutest transactions, and brings to God the
smallest matters of our personal history as well as the
great concern of pardon and eternal life. ,
''Every thing:'' whatever is a thing to you, whatever
lodges about your heart, either as a joy that you cherish
92 PRA YER WITH THANKSGIVING.
or a grief that you are unable to shake away, — in with it
into your prayer, up with i.t to the Throne. It is not
right to choose, out of the multitude of thoughts within
you, all the grave and goodly, and marshal them by
themselves into a prayer. This is like one who had
wheat to sell, and sat down and picked out all the full
and plump seeds and brought them to market, while the
heap was half made up of shrivelled, unripened grains.
Prayer in secret, is a pouring out of the soul before God ;
and if it is not a pouring, it is not prayer. Anything left
behind, cherished in you but concealed from God, vitiates
all,— stakes away the comfort from you, and hinders the
answer from God.
2. "7;^ every tJiingwitJi thanksgivingr — There is nothing
here enjoined that is contrary to nature. His command-
ments are not grievous. You need not give thanks for
suffering ; but even in sorrow there is room for praise.
There are two things for which we may and should
giv^e praise at all times, even in suffering. One is, thanks
in suffering for the things that you do not suffer : for
example, when in bodily pain, if the mind is clear ; or
when suffering from calumny, thanks for a good con-
science toward God ; or when you have lost your money,
if your children survive.
Another is, for the good that even sorrow brings, for
the fruit that it bears unto holiness. Suppose your tears
flow for conviction of your sins ; your peace is disturbed ;
the terrors of the Lord are drinking you up : " Oh,
wretched man that I am ! who shall deliver me.''" The
PRAYER WITH THANKSGIVING. 93
very next word that escaped the apostle's Hps after that
wail of agony is, " I thank God through Jesus Christ our
Lord." Thank God for convictions of sin, for they are
the marks of his mercy ; these are the footsteps of the
Redeemer when he comes to save.
But in all cases, even in all extremities, there still
remains that short, strong anthem, " Thanks be to God
for his unspeakable gift." However dark the day may
be, impenetrable clouds covering all the heavens and
shutting out the day, you know well that the sun is in
the heavens, and will shine forth again as bright as ever
when these clouds have passed away : so, " The Lord
liveth. Blessed be my Rock."
But the end of the whole matter is this, — this com-
mand will not be obeyed by those who are at enmity
with God. This command is addressed to disciples, and
only disciples can render obedience to it. There is one
commandment that must go foremost, and make a way
for all the rest ; and this is his commandment, that ye
should believe on his Son whom he has sent. To be
reconciled unto God through the death of his Son, — this
is the one thing needful to all true obedience ; and so
especially this law of God, that in every thing we should
pray to him and give thanks, cannot be put in practice
by an alienated and suspicious heart.
Command, did I say } No, not the command of a
master which the slave must obey ; it is rather a priv-
ilege conferred, which a dear child will gladly accept.
The Queen does not make requests, does not even
94 PRAYER WITH THANKSGIVING.
offer gifts ; she commands those whom she favours to
accept what she desires to bestow. Such is the formula
which has grown into use as the most fitting medium for
conveying a sovereign's gifts. The form is seemly, and
the idea in which it originated is just. Yet the command
of the sovereign is in its essence a bounty bestowed, is
the greatest favour that a subject can receive.
So here, when the King eternal means to confer on his
child the richest privilege, he throws it into the form of
a command. " In every thing by prayer and supplica-
tion with thanksgiving let your requests be made known
unto God ; " — that is the King's method of conveying to
me the glad intelligence that I am permitted to pour out
all my joys and sorrows on his breast. " Casting all your
care upon him ; for he careth for you." He who spared
not his own Son, but freely gave him up for us all, how
shall he not with him freely give us all things ?
[Not many weeks before his death, Mf. Avnot came on this verse in the
course of expounding the Epistle to the Philippians. He gave a short
summary of it, which he had found somewhere, and thought well worth
preserving : —
" Be careful for ;/^thing.
Be prayerful for ^'<?rj'thing.
Be thankful for ^/ything."
A little child some time afterwards, overhearing his father speaking with
anxiety about business, quoted these words, saying: "Do you remember
what Mr. Arnot told us ? "]
VII.
^^znnxB is gcab.
*' Lazarns is dead, and I am glad.^' — John xi. 14, 15.
ESUS said, " Lazarus is dead, and I am glad."
What strange paradox have we here ! What
change has come over this divinely tender
human heart ? Does our fellow-sufferer no longer retain
a fellow-feeling with our pain ? Does any pang rend a
brother's heart in which the Man of Sorrows takes no
part ? " His is love beyond a brother's ; oh, how he
loves ! " Yet it is he who utters these words, " Lazarus
is dead, and I am glad."
Let us turn aside to see this great sight. If we rightly
search, we shall discover that this, like all other scrip-
tures, testifies of Christ, and testifies specifically that in all
his words and ways he is love. He came not to condemn
the world, but to save : now, as well as at other times, he
is about the Father's business. " Behind a frowning pro-
vidence he hides a smiling face." Trust him even before
you comprehend his dealings, and you will soon be able
to comprehend the dealings of him whom you trust.
S6 LAZARUS IS DEAD.
Bethany lay on the slope of Olivet, near Jerusalem,
but out of sight. It was the home of Lazarus and his
sisters. In their house the Lord and his disciples fre-
quently sought retirement from the bustle of the neigh-
bouring city. He was always welcome there; and thither,
therefore, he often went. He is the same in character
and tendency yesterday, to-day, and for ever : he haunts
the house or the heart where a welcome always waits
him. His word of promise still is, " If any man open, I
will come in."
The Lord, having retired before a furious persecution,
was tarrying, till the storm should blow out, in a secret
place beyond Jordan. While he was absent, Lazarus
fell sick and died. There was grief in the bereaved
family, and grief throughout the circle of sympathizing
neighbours, and grief among the disciples of the Lord as
they were hiding with their Master beyond Jordan ; for
to that desert place the sad intelligence soon penetrated.
All grieved for the death of Lazarus except the dead
man's truest, deepest friend : " Lazarus is dead, and I
am glad," said the man Christ Jesus.
Yet he, too, grieved over the solemn event : witness
his tears when he reached the grave. But his grief was
mingled with gladness : in his heart there was room for
both emotions. The grief belonged to the Brother born
for our adversity : the gladness, to the omniscient God,
who sees the end from the beginning, and overrules all
events for the promotion of his kingdom. \\\ the tears
by the grave at Bethany behold the Man ; in the glad-
LAZARUS IS DEAD. 97
ness beyond Jordan behold the Ruler in providence, God
over all.
Some principles of tender interest and beneficent
operation lie slumbering in this text. Let us draw near
and gently awaken them, that we may mark their beauty
as they rise, and apply them for profit to our own ex-
perience.
As a preacher, Paul announced his determination to
know nothing among his audience but Jesus Christ, and
him crucified. In his oflficial capacity he recognized
only two themes, and all his preaching consisted of a
balanced alternation between them. Nor were Paul's
discourses wearisome for lack of variety. If a teacher of
natural science were to announce that he intended to
limit himself in his prelections to the heavens and the
earth, you would be under no apprehension that his
material would run short before the session should close.
Thus Chrisl's glorious person and Christ's atoning death
together afford ample field for all the energies of the
greatest ministry ever given to the Church. Who the
Redeemer is, and what he has done for men, occupied
Paul from the day of his conversion to the day of his
departing. It is our part humbly to follow the great
apostle's steps.
Learners may find suitable patterns in the Scriptures
as well as teachers. " Sir, we would see Jesus," said some
devout Greeks, who had come to Jerusalem to worship at
the feast. Those beautiful, but dark and cold globes,
were drawn from their distant orbits by an impalpable but
(512) 7
98 LAZARUS IS DEAD.
irresistible influence toward the Light of the world. Sir,
we would fain see Jesus, is the true though inarticulate
desire of the little ones — the poor in spirit still — when
they meet with any one who has skill to expound the
gospel. Follow those Greek strangers as they press in
past apostles and evangelists, and creep near to Christ
himself Or, if the example seem to suit you better, go
to the spot where yonder bent and wan-faced woman
presses through the crowd of Christ's fair-weather ad-
mirers, and presses in to Christ himself, that she may
touch the hem of his garment ; go in her wake, through
all attendants and all ordinances, — go in secret, with a
throbbing heart, behind that humble, earnest woman,
and touch him as she touched him. Some of the answer
that Jesus gave her, as cold waters to a thirsty soul, —
some of the answer destined for her will overflow and
drop on your parched tongue, as you stand by her side :
" Go in peace ; thy faith hath saved thee." To-day let us
come to Jesus ; let us take our stance near ; let us look
and listen.
I. The first and fundamental lesson that lies in the text
is the sympathy of Christ with his people — somewhat
analogous to the sympathy that circulates through the
several organs of one living frame. Such is the vital
union, that every wound inflicted on the members pierces
with pain the Head. What a perennial well-spring of
blessed consolation was opened for believers, for example,
in the cry that Saul's meditated stroke upon the defence-
less disciples at Damascus drew from the lips of their
LAZARUS IS DEAD. 99
risen Defender in the heavens : " Saul, Saul, why per-
secutest thou me ? "
The Son of God has been pleased to place himself in
sympathetic relation with humanity. He has taken to
himself the seed of Abraham. He has so joined himself
to our nature, that its sorrows run through his being and
rend his heart. Of set purpose, with full knowledge and
with infinite willingness, he has committed himself to this
condition. He has entered the circle and must experi-
ence every shock that springs in any portion of the vast
circumference.
It was he who sent the message to Israel in Egypt : " I
know their sorrows." In the desert place beyond Jordan
he knew, he felt the grief that was rending the household
at Bethany. Out from the circle of sympathy he could
not and would not go. Christ's relation to humanity is a
fixed thing. On its changeless perpetuity our hope de-
pends. " I am the Lord, I change not ; therefore ye
sons of Jacob are not consumed."
By a message from the sisters, Jesus and his disciples
had learned that Lazarus was sick ; but the Head, being
in closer communion with the member, had secret and
later intelligence. In their solitude, Jesus said to the
disciples, " Our friend Lazarus sleepeth ; " and that sleep
was death. The dying throb of Lazarus beat also in the
heart of Jesus. In all their afflictions he was afflicted.
His promise runs, ** Lo, I am with you alway," — all the
days, — the dark days of pain as well as the bright days
of joy. When the strain of temptation is raised to its
lOO LAZARUS IS DEAD.
highest pitch, — Satan desiring to have you that he may
sift you as wheat and blow you away Hke chaff, — he is at
your right hand, so that you shall not be greatly moved.
True disciples still are often more frightened than hurt
by the storm that rages around them, like Peter when he
thought he was about to sink in the sea. Faith's grand
old formula, " I will not fear, for thou art with me," would
still suffice to make smooth every rough place of a Chris-
tian's faith, and straight every crooked one.
2. The Lord Jesus, possessing all power in heaven and
on earth, hears the cry of his people and sends them help.
He intimates, indeed, that, in a sense, he puts himself in
their power, and cannot resist their plea. It is obviously
implied in the narrative here that if he had been present
in the sick-chamber at Bethany, — present beholding the
tears and listening to the prayers of the sorrowing sisters,
— he would have cured the disease and preserved the life
of Lazarus. Martha was right when she said, " Lord, if
thou hadst been here, my brother had not died." He
cannot endure to hear the prayer of his people, and per-
manently to deny their request.
Hence he could not remain long in visible presence
with his followers after his ministry and his miracles
began. When he had made his power known, they
naturally began to look for his help in every calamity ;
and they did not look in vain. But the continuation and
extension of the method would be inconsistent with his
purpose and his laws. It soon became expedient that he
should go away. As on a limited sphere and for a
LAZARUS IS DEAD. loi
limited time he retired out of sight beyond Jordan, and
permitted Lazarus during his absence to die, that he
might afterwards reveal himself more effectually as the
resurrection and the life ; so he has on a larger sphere, and
for a more protracted period, gone away, as it were, on
the other side of Jordan, out of our sight, permitting mul-
titudes of his friends to sicken and die, preparatory to a
glorious resurrection. We get a glimpse through this
opening into the heart of Jesus. In order that he might,
for great purposes of his own, refuse the specific request
of the sisters for the life of Lazarus, it was necessary that
he should remain at a distance until Lazarus was dead.
This is as much as to say that if he had been at hand he
would not have permitted Lazarus to die ; he would not
have refused to comply with the request of the eager
suppliants. He was not afraid to let them know that
in presence of their tears and cries he could not refuse
them.
3. Alike the Lord's actions and his emotions con-
template the profit of his people. If he remained dis-
tant while Lazarus was battling with death, it was for
your sakes. If he rejoiced in the immediate issue of
that unequal conflict, it was for your sakes. It is ill the
part of Christians if their rule is not, whether they eat
or drink, or whatsoever they do, to do all to the glory
of God ; for whether he ate or drank, or whatsoever he
did, he did all for the redemption of lost men. It was
expedient for us that Christ should come into the world ;
therefore he came. It was expedient for us, in the
I02 LAZARUS IS DEAD.
fulness of time, that he should go away from the
world ; therefore he went away. All things are for your
sakes.
In this case, the particular profit which he desired and
anticipated for his people was, that they might believe.
The death of Lazarus afforded to him the opportunity
of displaying his omnipotence, and thereby confirming
the disciples' faith. But although this is the only benefit
specified, others followed in its train. The discipline,
for example, that the bereaved family endured was most
precious, as a means of purging away their dross and
preparing them for a holy rest.
Jesus was glad that he was not present at Bethany,
because that would have implied the healing of Lazarus ;
and consequently the opportunity would, on that occa-
sion, have been lacking of exerting his own omnipotence
as the resurrection and the life. He loved his own
mighty work, as well as his own atoning sacrifice. He
rejoiced to break and bless and multiply the bread to a
hungry multitude in a desert place. He rejoiced in
healing the ten lepers, and missed the nine when one
only returned with praise. He loved to have little ones
in his arms, and reproved the ignorant disciples who
sought to interdict their approach. When the children
cried " Hosanna ! " the hymn was sweet to his taste ; and
when some officious formalist said, " Master, rebuke
them," he answered, " If these should hold their peace,
the stones would cry out." The raising of Lazarus was
a work especially to the Redeemer's taste. He loved it,
LAZARUS IS DEAD. 103
and all that led to it. He delighted to be in foretaste,
before the time, the resurrection and the life. As in
feeding the hungry he enjoyed the act of being the
bread of life to his own, so in raising the dead he re-
joiced in being already life from the dead to those who
had put their trust in him.
This was the deepest need, and consequently this was
the greatest work which the Deliverer was called to
perform, previous to his own resurrection. On other
occasions he had healed the sick ; resuscitated the dead
daughter of Jairus, soon after she had expired ; raised
the son of the widow from the bier, as they were bearing
the corpse to the grave. But Lazarus was already in
the tomb ; he had been dead four days ; corruption had
begun ; dust was returning to dust According to the
measure of man's extremity is the greatness of God's
opportunity. The Redeemer visibly exulted over this
occasion for the manifestation of his saving power : " I
am glad for your sakes that I was not there, to the in-
tent ye may believe." He anticipated in this his greatest
work a surer foothold for his beloved people, in their
struggle to hold fast by faith. He expected that this
mighty work would, in point of fact, afford to feeble
disciples a larger handle to grasp by, that they might
not, in some future tempest of temptation, be shaken
off, and fall away.
Joy and sorrow rose and fell in Messiah's breast as he
foresaw a benefit or feared a harm to the faith of his
people. He careth for us. Oh, how he loves !
I04 LAZARUS IS DEAD.
Application.^i. The lesson bears on the ordinary
affairs of Hfe. You make an effort in order to obtain a
lawful object, and your effort is made in a lawful way.
You greatly need success, you earnestly desire it, you
strenuously toil for it ; but your plans miscarry, and
your poverty becomes deeper than it was before. The
Lord reigns, and you are his. He has all power, and
you are one of his redeemed people. Notwithstanding,
your venture in trade is unsuccessful, and you are re-
duced to straits for daily bread. Your misfortunes do
not prove that your Saviour lacks the will or the power
to help you. If he had been in visible, bodily presence
at your side, and if you had looked up in his face, and
told him, with tears, that it was the bread of your chil-
dren that was lost, he would have put forth his power in
your behalf When the disciples have toiled all night
and have taken nothing, his tender question is, " Chil-
dren, have ye here any meat .'^ " And when he learns
that they are destitute, he directs them how to let down
their net, and crowns their effort with a blessing. If,
like those worn-out fishermen, you could with your
bodily eyes descry the Lord on the shore in the early
dawn, he would supply all your need. But he is not
here. He has risen from the grave, and ascended into
heaven. It is expedient for you that he is not in sight.
If he had been here, such is his tenderness that he
could not have refused material help ; but he is glad for
your sake that he was not here. From the height of his
throne he sees beneath and around before and behind
LAZARUS IS DEAD.
105
your case. On his throne he Is, without entangling com-
plications, ordering all things for your highest good.
0 son ! O daughter of the Lord Almighty ! it would
be a light thing for Him who strewed the blue vault of
heaven with stars, like gold dust on the bottom of a
transparent river, — it would have been a light thing for
him to give the child whom he loves a fortune, if he had
seen that a fortune would be best for his child. He is
glad, for your sakes, that at this point of your progress
he is out of your sight, because he knows that the
world on your side at this point would not be profitable
for you.
1 have often been puzzled by the course of events
while I was among them ; but I do not remember a case
in which the view of the same events from a distant
point did not say, " Be still, and know that I am God."
Suppose the son of the Queen were in this city, strug-
gling in competition with other merchants — now incur-
ring a loss, and then unable to take advantage of an
opening for want of capital. Suppose the Sovereign
were on the spot, and impelled by the imperious affec-
tions of nature to employ the national resources in favour
of her child. In the supposed case, the Sovereign, if
present, could hardly refrain from interference ; but in-
terference on her part would be highly inexpedient.
Well might she be glad if she were out of the way. In
some such way it pleases the reigning Redeemer to
withdraw himself from his people, and to leave them
struggling with misfortunes which his hand could in a
io6 LAZARUS IS DEAD.
moment remove. You trust him with the redemption
of the soul ; trust him with the things needful for the
body.
2. The lesson bears manifestly and directly on the
bereavements which Christ's friends are called to sustain.
The apple of your eye is touched. The blossom whence
you fondly expected ripe fruit to grow, is blighted be-
fore your eyes. Convictions begin to penetrate, from
time to time — sudden and sharp, like lightning flashes
— convictions that the king of terrors has marked your
treasure as his prey. An indescribable, hard, dry agony
settles on your heart, like a stone pressing down and
impeding its pulsation. You cannot take the conception
distinctly in, and yet you are not able to keep it out.
You hold the pale hand, but you cannot detain the
parting life. While you fondly grasp the casket, the
jewel is leaking out below, like water ; and you will
soon have nothing in your arms but clay. You repeat
the prayer that you learned to lisp in childhood, " Our
Father which art in heaven." You plead in Christ's
name for a submissive spirit ; but in the tumult you
cannot discern whether you are submissive or not. Ah,
if Jesus were standing weeping by the bed, as he wept
by the grave of Lazarus, your eye meeting his and his
meeting yours, both dim with tears — if he were in this
fashion here, your child would not die. Your piteous
look would command him ; he would grant your desire.
But for your sake he remains out of sight. He is glad
for your sake that he is not there as the controller of
LAZARUS IS DEAD. 107
nature and the preserver of life. In that capacity he has
withdrawn himself, in order that he may more freely
act as your wise and kind Redeemer. As from his
throne he does for you all things well, he is glad that
he is not at your hand for a miraculous cure. He is
glad, for your sake, that in this sense he is beyond your
reach.
I had a brother once. Each of us can best under-
stand and express his own individual experience ; but
one voice here may awaken a thousand kindred echoes.
Not more certainly does every blade of grass receive its
own drop of dew, than every human life its own measure
of sorrows. Like each other, too, are the various griefs
that chequer life, as dew-drop is like to dew-drop ; but
every separate person knows his own separate grief
Jesus, the compassionate Saviour of sinners — Jesus, our
elder brother in the heavens — looked down on this pair
of brothers in their youth, and planned deeply, lovingly
for both. He smote the elder brother with an ailment
that slowly but surely sapped the roots of life, and im-
parted to the younger constant robust health. With this
diversity of allotments, they were thrown close together
for a series of years in their father's house. What frag-
ments of boyish disagreements may have survived till
that period, were at once by this discipline conclusively
purged away. The weak and the strong reciprocally
clasped each other, and coalesced into one, like a vine
and an elm growing together on the same soil. Nothing
now could sever the pair. Whom God had thus joined
io8 LAZARUS IS DEAD.
by a special providential dealing, no wile of the devil
could avail to put asunder.
In the furnace, and in the earliest and gentlest period
of its heating, the sufferer was born to the Lord. He
struggled in unseen depths a little while, and then
emerged into light and liberty. His peace flowed like a
river, and the righteousness he rested in became great
like the waves of the sea. All that concerned him was
gradually made perfect, and then he was removed to
rest. This was, doubtless, best for him, and he knows it
now. No question now, in regard to him, that the Lord
did all things well. But what of the survivor.? The
stroke was love to him too, in another way. When the
blow fell, the two lay so close together, that, whether
dealt by the hand of God or the hand of man, it must
needs fall on both. It fell on both accordingly, and
blessed both by its fall. It blessed him, in exempting
him altogether from the longer and rougher portion of
the wilderness journey ; and me, in hedging my way
more closely in, so as to make the inevitable pilgrimage
more safe to the pilgrim.
I remember the parting scene, down to its minutest
feature, as freshly as I remember the events of yesterday;
as we see a big star though it lie deep in heaven, while
a lamp is invisible a few miles away. These hands held
his pale brow, when at length its beating ceased. If
Jesus had been there, as he was at the mouth of the cave
in Bethany, in his visible presence and power as Lord
over all — if Jesus had been there, my brother had not
LAZARUS IS DEAD. 109
died. He would have pitied me, and shielded my feeble
head from the descending stroke. But Jesus is glad to-
day that he was not there ; and the saved sinner whom he
then admitted into rest is doubtless glad too, for he was
permitted to go early home.
The blow which separated us was delivered for our
sakes, and perhaps both derived from it equal advantage.
Thereby his pilgrimage was shortened, and mine was
made more useful and more safe. It will be joyful if, on
comparing notes at our next meeting, we discover that
he got over with fewer scars, and that I, though wounded
oft, get some companions with me, as a crown of joy
and rejoicing.
From the moment that my brother's eyes were shut,
the world's light seemed many shades dimmer than it had
been before. I am not sure that the face of the earth
ever afterwards for me recovered its original brightness.
If its glitter had lasted, it might have possessed more
power to entice me into its snares.
I met a mother lately whom I had known before, but
of whom I had lost all trace during an interval of six
years. In answer to my question about her children,
she informed me that they were all taken away but the
youngest. " And how have you been sustained under
these sorrows "i " She replied, " Every bereavement has
knit me closer to Christ, and every child I have in heaven
is another cord to hold me up."
This world is like a sea ; it cannot rest. Life in the
world is for Christians somewhat like a net as it floats
no LAZARUS IS DEAD.
in the water. It is necessary that the net should lie, in
its whole length and breadth, beneath the surface. The
lower edge of the net must lie deep — must in ordinary-
cases, indeed, rest on the bottom. But that being once
secured, the more straight that it stands on its edge the
better. To secure both objects — to keep the lower edge
always on the bottom, and the upper edge always at the
surface of the water — two different and opposite con-
trivances are simultaneously applied. To keep the net
down, heavy stones are attached at short intervals on
one side ; and to bear it up, corks or bladders are at-
tached at similar intervals to the other. Thus it is kept
standing upright in the water, one edge on the ground,
and the other, if not above the surface, yet always strain-
ing and pointing towards the upper air.
Thus stand Christians in the tide of Time, as it sweeps
with varied velocity past them and through them. On
the one side they are kept close to the earth by a multi-
tude of needful weights, — and they are on that account
all the more useful ; on the other side, if not taken out
of life, yet kept always pointing and tending to its upper
edge — the edge of earth that lies nearest heaven — held
erect and drawn upwards by many small invisible lines,
attached to some bright and buoyant things, which have
escaped from their grasp and leaped through the water
into the upper sky. Let go one of those buoyants even
from the bottom, and it bounds sheer up to the surface.
Lines are made fast to it as it rises — lines of many in-
tertwining human loves — lines which many waters can-
LAZA R US IS DBA D. t t i
not quench. That buoyant thing let go, yet Hnked to
your heart, will contribute to keep one edge of your
being at least pointing upward, while you must still
remain for a time in the deep.
When a little one is taken up, suffer the little one to
go at Christ's command, and yet continue to keep hold
for your own profit. Of faith, hope, and love plait a
threefold cord that shall not easily be broken, and there-
with hold fast by the departed. Even that tiny thing,
now that it is taken up, will contribute to keep you from
lying all along upon the dust — will contribute to keep
you erect in these troubled waters — will keep one side of
your being pointing up to God your Saviour and heaven
your home.
VIII.
^he cScixirce ot Christian %obz.
^1
** Ju?r God is my record^ how greatly I long after yoti all in the bozveh
of Jesus Christ.'*'' — Philippians i. 8.
PECULIAR tenderness breathes through this
epistle. It glows all over with love. Other
letters of Paul contain more of argument, of
doctrine, of reproof; none so much of emotion flowing
direct from heart to heart. Several circumstances con-
spired to impart to this letter its characteristic affection.
His own position when he wrote it tended to soften and
solemnize his spirit. He was at Rome, in the hands of
a cruel despot. Already he was in prison, and he knew
not the hour when he might be led forth to execution.
The remembrance of his first visit to Philippi tended in
the same direction. His work in that city was the first
of his mission to Europe. He had endured great suffer-
ings there, and also obtained great success. He had
spent the night, bleeding from recent scourging, in the
inner prison, with his limbs fixed in an instrument of
torture. Yet from that prison he sang praise to God, and
THE SOURCE OF CHRISTIAN LOVE. 113
came forth to witness a mighty work of conversion among
the heathen. Besides all this, the Christians at PhiHppi
had shown him great kindness in his time of need.
They had followed his footsteps in his missionary jour-
neys, and repeatedly relieved his necessities. Now their
messenger, Epaphroditus, had found him out in his prison
in Rome, and liberally supplied his wants. (See chap. iv.
10-18.)
It is much to be lamented that gifts of temporal good
to spiritual instructors have often become the occasion of
jealousy and strife. These contributions are in them-
selves natural, and are clearly sanctioned in the Scrip-
tures. They are not in their own nature evil ; they might,
indeed, become the channels of spiritual benefit. They
might be blessed to those who give and those who
receive. The pure heart and the single eye are needed
on both sides ere these contributions can become pleas-
ant and profitable. But what relation of life does not
need the pure heart and the single eye.? When one gives
and another receives spiritual things, and he who receives
spiritual things contributes in turn of his temporal things,
the intercourse is not necessarily carnal and secular. A'l
things are yours when you are Christ's. Elevated, and
pure, and profitable was all the intercourse between the
apostle of the Gentiles and these the first Christians in
Europe that were converted through his ministry.
Money is God's gift too. It may be given without a
grudge, and accepted without degradation. If we our-
selves are carnal, our handling of money will be carnal ;
(512) 8
T 1 4 THE SO UR CE OF CHRIS TIA N L O VE.
but such also will our handling of all other things be.
" Unto them that are defiled and unbelieving is nothing
pure ; but to the pure all things are pure" (Titus i. 15).
It is worthy of notice, as we pass, that in this letter —
written to acknowledge the receipt of contributions from
the converts at Philippi — there is not a word about
masses for the dead, or any other superstitions for
which the popish priests receive pay. Paul never said a
mass nor granted an indulgence. What is more, he
never spoke or wrote a word against either of these cor-
ruptions ; for this good reason, that he did not know
them. They did not exist in his day, and he had not
even a conception of their possibility. They did not
once occur to his mind.
I. The witness of Paul's tender regard for the Philip-
pians.
II. The source of it.
III. The character and strength of it.
I. TJie zvitness : "God is my witness." — I do not say it
is necessary or expedient to parade this appeal frequently
or on trivial occasions. The expression of it should be
reserved for seasons of peculiar solemnity. Paul, on the
verge of martyrdom, not expecting to see these breth-
ren again until he should meet them at the great white
throne, desiring to give them the most solemn assurance
of his regard, — an assurance that might be their consola-
tion when he was gone, — takes the name of God, not in
vain, but in reverent truth, into his lips, and confirms
THE SOURCE OF CHRIST/AN LOVE. 115
his testimony by his oath. It has been often remarked
— and in the main the observation is just — that those who
continually betake themselves to such an attestation in
order to obtain belief are precisely the people who do
not deserve to be believed, either with an oath or with-
out it.
But though the parade of this witness should be spared,
the inner consciousness of it should pervade all our inter-
course, all our life : that God is witness of our words is a
thing that should be very seldom on our lips, but should
be always on our mind.
God is witness of all our affections toward all men.
"There is not a thought upon my tongue, but, lo, O
Lord, thou knowest it altogether. The darkness hideth
not from thee."
It is easy to deceive a fellow-man ; and, alas ! because
it can be done, it is often done. There is no outward
restraint to prevent false representation. It is left to
conscience within ; and conscience, when often trampled
on, grows callous, and ceases to resent the injury. Many
a man, who does not suspect himself of being a hypo-
crite, habitually represents himself as better than he is.
It is healthful to the soul to be constantly reminded of
another onlooker. God is not mocked. To go about the
business and intercourse of life under the sense of God's
presence, would cast out all the malice and envy from the
heart, would banish all falsehood from the lips. He re-
quireth truth in the inward parts. Give him what he de-
mands. Keep the living God consciously near, the witness
ii6 THE SOURCE OF CHRISTIAN LOVE.
of all your words and ways, did I say ? It is easier said
than done. This is precisely the company that most
people shun. It is a law of nature that a man banishes
from his presence and memory persons and objects that
he does not like, until these persons and objects acquire
an independent power, and force themselves under his
notice whether he will or not. " How can two walk
together, except they be agreed ? " Here lies the secret.
No man chooses the living God as his habitual company
and witness unless he is reconciled unto God by the
death of his Son. Hence peace with God, instead of
lying at the further end of the Christian's course, — at
the goal which by a life of effort he may hope at last
to reach, — lies at the very outset of the pilgrim's path.
This is the stile at the entrance. Not a step of ad-
vance can you make on the way of life without this.
" Be ye reconciled unto God," is the first appeal of the
ambassador from heaven when he opens his commission
among men.
Paul in his solitary prison at Rome refers to God as
the witness of what took place, as he might have referred
to Silas for corroboration of what happened that night in
the jail at Philippi. "Acquaint now thyself with Him, and
be at peace." " Because he is at my right hand, I shall
not be greatly moved." God is this man's witness — wit-
ness of his thoughts and emotions, night and day : this
thought is a pleasure to him, and not a pain. It is be-
cause he loves this company that he keeps it. So lordly
and kingly a creature is man that he succeeds generally
THE SOURCE OF CHRISTIAN LOVE. 117
in getting near those whom he loves, and keeping at a
distance from those whom he loathes.
Brethren, what a blessed state to be in : would that
we had reached it. To let all our affections and desires
towards our brethren flow and reflow in the presence of the
living God ! To love and to dislike, to hope and to fear, to
rejoice and to grieve, all in the light of his countenance !
All things are yours, and among them the holiness of
God. One of the exclamations of a Christian is, " Our
God is a consuming fire." That fire is his property, and
it works for his good — it consumes the filthiness out of
him. As the mists of night are driven away by the rising
sun, the face of God chases away malice and envy, so
that they cannot harbour in the heart.
II. The source of his love for the bretJiren : "In the
bowels of Jesus Christ." — This form of expression occurs
frequently in Scripture. Though strongly figurative, it
is easily understood. It signifies strong compassion.
Here it means the mercy, the tender thrilling pity, which
the Lord Jesus felt, and feels, for his own in their need.
He longed after them in the compassion of Jesus
Christ. From that fountain his own pity flowed. He
was pitiful and tender because he was now in Christ
Jesus, in whom pity and tenderness dwell with all the
fulness of the Godhead. He was free to testify, " In me
dwelleth no good thing ;" — in me pity, compassionate love,
had not its spring, its dwelling-place. True, Paul ; for no
pity flowed from your cruel heart, or dimmed your cruel
ii8 THE SOURCE OF CHRISTIAN LOVE.
eye, when a gentle, loving nature suffered at your hand.
When Stephen sank on his knees exhausted in body, and
lifted up his eyes to heaven, strong in faith, there were
no bowels and mercies moving in the iron breast of Saul ;
for Saul was not at that time in Christ — was not at that
time a new creature. Although dew was falling out of
heaven abundantly everywhere, that fleece had not caught
a drop ; and although the sight of Stephen's martyrdom
wrung it hard, not one drop came. Long before this time,
however, the dew of heaven had filled the fleece ; and
having freely received, it freely gave out a very flood of
strong compassion.
Paul is sketching from the memory of his former self
when he paints the frightful picture of the unrenewed :
" For we ourselves also were sometimes foolish, disobedi-
ent, deceived, serving divers lusts and pleasures, living in
malice and envy, hateful, and hating one another" (Titus
iii. 3). But when he was graffed into the true Vine, the
life-sap from the Head flowed into the once withered
branch — flowed through that once withered branch, the
same that flowed in himself, the Vine.
A portion of the very love that glowed in the bosom
of Jesus was communicated to his disciple. The affec-
tion towards the Philippians which was swelling now in
the prisoner at Rome was a stream from the Fountain of
love on high. According to his capacity and attainments
— finite in measure and imperfect in kind, on account of
defects in the earthen vessel — the love was still the love
that glowed first in Christ:
THE SC UK CE OF CHRISTIA N LOVE, 1 1 9
It was not the love of mere nature, an instinct of the
animal constitution. It was not the affection of party,
or patriotism for those who were on his side or of his
country.
His new position gave him a new view and new
affections. He had risen with Christ, and was sitting
with him in heavenly places. From that high place he
looked abroad upon the world, and, lo, all old things
had passed away — all things had become new. The old
divisions between Jew and Gentile, Pharisee and Saddu-
cee, had disappeared, and one line ran athwart the world,
separating the human race into two compartments — those
who were in Christ Jesus, and those who were not. Nor
was even this line a divider between those whom he
loved and those whom he did not love. He loved the
whole ; but a strange difference was perceptible between
his regard for the brethren and his regard for those that
were without. Over these he rejoices with a joy un-
speakable and full of glory ; for these his compassions
flow.
Partakers of Christ, as far as their finite nature will
permit, Christians partake also of his affections toward
the Church on the one side, and the world on the other.
"The life that I now live in the flesh, it is not I that
live, but Christ that liveth in me." With Christ, like
Christ, in Christ, a Christian weeps when he looks down
on an unbelieving Jerusalem ; rejoices in spirit, and
thanks the Father, when the wisdom which philosophers
cannot discover is revealed unto babes.
I20 THE SOURCE OF CHRISTIAN LOVE.
It is not enough to be near him ; we must be found
in him. Almost Christian does not love its neighbour,
and win the world to God. The disciples were near
their Master, and thought themselves zealous in his
cause, when they suggested that fire should descend
from heaven and consume a city for lack of hospitality
toward themselves. That was not an emotion drawn
from the bowels of Jesus Christ. He, in reply, said, "Ye
know not what spirit ye are of" They knew not ; but
he knew. He did not recognize that thirst of vengeance
as a grace of his Spirit. He did not say to them on
that occasion, as he said to a humble, believing woman,
" Who touched me 1 somebody hath touched me, for I
perceive that virtue hath gone out of me." That longing
for fire to consume a neighbour did not go out of Jesus
Christ.
This doctrine lies readily to hand for turning inward
upon ourselves; and it is eminently searching: "Ye are
not your own : ye are bought with a price." These facul-
ties of ours are talents which belong to the Lord. We
are like the labourers keeping the vineyard for him. We
have no right to permit any afi'ections to flow through
these channels that Christ will repudiate.
HI. TJie measure and manner of the apostle's fond de-
sires after these Philippian Christians : " How greatly I
long after you all." — Already we have seen that he called
God to witness regarding his desire after them. Learn
from this that in order to get into communion with God
THE SOURCE OF CHRISTIAN LOVE. 121
it is not necessary to banish your brother out of sight.
These two are not antagonists. The law is, that he who
loveth God love his brother also. He is a jealous God
to the effect of commanding, " Thou shalt have no other
gods before me ; " but even in his own sight you may
cherish to the full all your love of the brethren. The
sun, at his rising, extinguishes all the stars of heaven,
but not the flowers of earth . so when you get into the
presence of God none other is permitted to stand on a
level with himself, but into his presence you may boldly
bring all your brethren of human kind. In his presence
you may keep every affection that is inherited by nature
or ingrafted by grace.
Observe now the extent and the distribution of his affec-
tion— " I long after you all." Probably they were not all
alike attractive, either in person or character. If he had
regarded them from a merely human and earthly view-
point he would have held to some and despised others ;
but he had risen to heavenly places in Christ, and there-
fore his tenderness shone on them all. A lamp lighted
on the top of a pillar casts light on some objects and a
shadow on others, but the sun spreads day over all.
The love that is grafted into Christ is universal, like his
own. There is no respect of persons with God ; and
none with the godly, as far as they act in character.
" Long after you all." The longing was one, as it
burned in Paul's heart ; but it was many-coloured, doubt-
less, as it streamed upon a promiscuous congregation.
Light is for all the same, but it becomes various as it
122 THE SOURCE OF CHRISTIAN LOVE.
falls on various surfaces. '' Long after you all " — that
longing, as it fell on one, would be a desire that he might
be born ; and on another, that he might grow in grace.
"You all." The w^iole assembly flitted before the
apostle. When he shut his eyes at night, and slept not, '
their faces would flit before him. One by one they came
up, as well as in the great congregation.
1. Little childi'en. His longing was a stream led oft"
the compassion of Jesus. It was of the same kind. It
did not overlook or despise the little ones ; it rather
singled out the children, and paid special regard to their
case. That peculiar desire, here called " longing after,"
is more appropriate to infants than to others. In pro-
portion as words are kept in, thoughts burn more keenly.
These helpless infants draw forth our longing more
powerfully than grown people. In this respect Paul's
paradox holds good, "When I am weak, then am I
strong." In proportion to their w^eakness is the strength
with which they draw you. This is the Lord's doing,
and it is marvellous in our eyes. This longing will send
up many prayers for them now, and send out many warn-
ings to them in coming years.
2. TJie young ivho are of understanding age. " Long
after you." You have need of a compassion like Christ's.
You must make your choice ; and, alas ! there are many
things to cheat and entice you. You are floating on a
stream. Its current sucks you down — insensibly, softly,
but strongly down. If we stand on the bank and beckon
and warn, we seem to you to be running quickly up, and
THE SOURCE OF CHRISTIAN LOVE.
J 23
you wonder at our haste ; whereas we are not running
up, — it is you that are floating down.
We long after you, because you have fallen on an acre of
levity. Grave, godly ways, are little known. Life in car-
nest is a thing of the past, or a rarity, if it appears at all.
If a living creature were carried up into the atmos-
phere above the tops of the highest mountains, he would
still be in the atmosphere, and yet it would be difficult
to live. There would be nothing to hurt him. All would
be clear and pure, and yet he would be ill. He would
be ill, and not know what ailed him. He would pant for
breath, although around, beneath, above him there was
nothing but air. He would gasp, and die, for want of
breath in an ocean of air, — because the air was too thin.
Soul-breath seems light and thin in this particular age,
in this stratum of human history. Although there is an
immense activity and volume of thought, thought is so
light that a human soul pines and starves on it. We long
for young people, afloat on this atmosphere rarefied and
cold. Oh, for the solid, strong, spiritual life that our fore-
fathers lived ! Prayer, reading, self-examination, com-
munion with God, — all seem attenuated in our age.
And I do long after the young who launch on life at this
period, dreading their leanness, their leanness.
But God is the same, though the spirit of the age
varies. God's Word is grave, though human conversa-
tion be frivolous. Though the vain world is near, Jesus
is nearer. "Whosoever will let him come."
3. "After you all." And among them the burdenedy
124 THE SOURCE OF CHRISTIAN LOVE.
crushed with cares. Oh, souls that cleave to the dust,
there is much cause to long after you till you be quick-
ened by the Spirit.
When gradually the soul has been cleaving,— the earth
stealing marches on the soul and binding Samson while '
he slept, — the cure will not come as the ailment came, by
slow, imperceptible degrees. The emancipation will be
sudden, or not at all. I suspect there is no gradual
emancipation for these slaves. It must be by an insur-
rection, by a sudden blow. '' I will arise, and go to my
Father."
4. We long after the aged, that they may have fresh-
ness of faith and love ; — that their spirit may be like a
little child, although the flesh refuses to come again so
plump and tender ; although the wrinkles will not out of
the brow, that the twists may all be taken out of the
spirit ; and that they may in due time have an abun-
dant entrance into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord
and Saviour Jesus Christ.
Longing after all, that the fruits of righteousness may
abound, the backslidings be healed, the goings be estab-
lished, and the glad new song be raised.
God is witness of all these longings ; for as surely as
they spring in a believer's heart they issue in two direc-
tions at once — upward to the Throne, and outward on
the brethren ; as a spring of water issuing from warm
depths at once sends incense up to heaven and a stream
along the ground.
IX.
fincto tohiit toa5 in |Emx/'
" He knew what was in man." — John ii. 25.
IHE idea of a physician, when complete and con-
sidered apart from human imperfections, con-
_„_ tains these three things : he must know the
^Z^s cousiitution, his disease, and his cure. He must
understand, first, what was the nature and capacity of
the subject originally, and before he was afflicted wth
disease ; second, the ailment under which he labours ;
and, third, what will restore the diseased to health
a^ain.
When God became man, and dwelt among us, he came
as a physician into an hospital, that he might cure the
sick Other aspects of Christ's character and work are
also revealed in the Scriptures. He came to give hberty
to the captive, sight to the blind, life to the dead. In
these and in other capacities the Bible presents Chnst,
and believers receive him. Each representation has .ts
own place, and accomplishes its own purpose ; but at
present, and in connection with this text, I am led to
126 HE KNEW WHAT WAS IN MAN.
think of him chiefly as a Physician. The Son of God
came into our world to heal the diseased.
He took not on him the nature of angels ; for either
they had not fallen, or could not be raised. One portion
of them had no disease, and another were incurable.
Those did not need salvation, and to these it could not
be given. He took not on him the nature of angels, who
rank above us in the scale of creation ; neither did he take
the nature of creatures that rank below us, for there was
no point of contact between them and the divine nature,
■ — these had not been made in God's image, and though
they remain the creatures of his hand, they could not be
taken into union with his person. He took our nature.
The Word became flesh, and dwelt among us. When
Jesus stood amongst us as a man, he was not only " Jesus
in the midst," between the lost and the saved of human
kind, he was also "Jesus in the midst," as man between
the creatures who never had been partakers of the divine
nature, and creatures who had constantly retained or
irretrievably lost it. To us is the word of this salvation
sent. " O earth, earth, earth, hear the word of the
Lord : " heaven needs it not, and hell gets it not.
The fitness of our Physician lies in the divine perfec-
tion of his knowledge. " This man, because he continueth
ever, hath an unchangeable priesthood. Wherefore he is
able also to save them to the uttermost that come unto
God by him " (Hcb. vii. 24, 25).
He who has undertaken our cause knows what was in
man as he came from the Creator's hand ; what is in man
HE KNEW WHAT WAS IN MAN. 127
since he by transgression fell ; and what is needed to
redeem and renew the lost.
I. He knows what was in man as he came at first from
the Creator's hand. God made man upright ; and that
uprightness is known to Him on whom our help has been
laid. The Son partook of the divine council in which
the human constitution was planned, — " Let us make
man in our own image." His delights were with the
sons of men before they were called into being. By
him were all things created, whether they be things in
heaven or things on earth.
A secular philosophy in modern times, having observed
that creation advances by steps from the lowest to the
highest forms of organization and life, has concluded that
therefore there is not a Creator! — has concluded that
either God is not, or that he has not made himself known.
I do not know what kind of a world this would have
been if it had contained only clods, and trees, and men.
As it is, it is much more beautiful, more useful, and more
like God's work. Life rises by many steps, until it cul-
minates in man. Worms, fishes, fowls, mammal quadru-
peds mark the gradations and fill the intervals ; and
when at last the heir of the world is placed upon the
stage, he finds servants of every grade ready to submit to
his yoke. The Creator did not stop until he had reached
his own ideal. When all things were ready, the purpose
was expressed, — " Let us make man in our own image."
The bodily structure was perfect, and into the now com-
128 HE KNEW WHAT WAS IN MAN
pleted body he breathed a living soul. The body will
not now be changed : it will become a spiritual body, but
it will be the same body that shall inherit eternal life and
inhabit a holy heaven.
There is no profit in raising a question whether He
who made man could make him cease to be. That is of
a piece with the question whether God could lie. It is
enough that he will not, because he is unchangeably
true. So when he has made a being immortal, he will
not undo or annihilate the work of his hand. Made in
God's image immortal, man cannot, cannot die.
God pronounced his work very good. In the human
constitution the plan of the Omniscient was completed.
This was a creature fit for being the child of God. This
being could be taken into union with the divine nature.
The measure of intelligence communicated to man was
such, that when completely submissive and trustful, it
gave the greatest glory to God, and the greatest happi-
ness to the creature. The conception could not be im-
proved ; the execution could not be more skilful.
The Son of God knew what was in man, when man
was made in God's image. He knew that the constitu-
tion of humanity admitted of complete communion with
God, as a child in a father's bosom, and yet complete
submission to God's will, as the creature of his hand.
II. He knew what was in man when he had fallen.
Knowing the character of the perfect work, the Saviour
knows also the amount of damage that it has sustained.
HE KNEW WHAT WAS IN MAN. 129
He knows, also, the gravity of man's sin, as an event
affecting all the plans of God, and the government of all
intelligent beings. As the defection of a chief carries
away all that owned his sway, the fall of man affected
the condition and prospects of the universal kingdom.
wSome trees are of such a constitution that if the upper-
most bud is once nipped off, the tree is finally ruined. It
can never develop itself into its proper shape and dimen-
sions. Such an uppermost bud was humanity on the
whole material creation. Deprived of its head, the world
could not shoot up into the beauty and completeness
which its Maker intended it should attain.
That which the text ascribes to Jesus is an attribute
of omniscience. This knowledge he possessed not as
man, but as God. Man does not know what is in man.
He cannot comprehend either the blessedness of his first
estate, or the loss that he has sustained by sin. Pre-
cisely because we are in a low estate, we do not under-
stand either its lowness, or the height from which we
fell. Take an example that bears an analogy close
enough for our present purpose. Suppose a man, through
some accident or disease, has lost the use and the com-
mand of reason. The remnants of the faculty continue in
a certain kind of activity, and throw off many wild dreams ;
but no two things hold together in the workings of that
disordered mind. This man does not know either what
he formerly possessed, or what he has lost. Because he
has lost the command of reason, he cannot estimate what
he has lost.
(512) 9
1-0 HE KNEW WHAT WAS IN MAN.
'.•)
Now, although it is in the first instance mainly a
moral derangement that has happened to humanity, it
cannot be denied or concealed that the moral blight in-
cidentally carries along with it an intellectual obtuse-
ness. Who shall tell what advances might have been
by this time made in mere knowledge, if the conscience
had never been defiled by guilt ? There is no branch of
knowledere that man has failed In so much as the knowl-
edee of himself It is easier to find out the law of
gravity that guides the spheres, than to find out the law
in the members that wars against God, and against the
right instincts that still make themselves felt among the
roots of our being.
When one has been renewed in the spirit of his mind,
— when, through the gospel, a sinful man has been re-
conciled, and admitted to God's favour again, — he obtains
some glimpses both of his loss through sin and his gain
in Christ. Those discoveries, however, that a renewed
man makes in the secrets of his own nature are few and
feeble compared with the knowledge that the Son of
God possessed. The sin, in all its deformity, was open
in his sight. The corruption was brought out, in full
relief, aG!"ainst the Hq-ht of his inherent holiness. He felt
that the allegiance of man was broken, that his love of
God and holiness had died out ; and, instead, there had
sprung up a disttiste of God and an appetite for evil.
Especially, instead of the child's loving trust, there was
the suspicion and the terror of combined wickedness and
weakness. The human heart was no longer the home of
HE KNEW WHAT WAS IN MAN.
m
the Spirit of God ; the human h'fe was no longer a track
that marked on earth the hohncss of heaven.
III. Knowing the original constitution and the subse-
quent disease of the patient, the Physician knew also
what would restore him, and was able to apply the cure.
Knowing the worth of man as God had made him, our
Physician would not abandon the wreck ; but knowing
how complete the wreck was, he bowed his heavens and
came down to save. He united himself to us, became
bone of our bones and flesh of our flesh, that he mieht
raise us up. He so knit himself to his own on earth,
that if he should rise, so must they.
When a sound and well-found ship goes to the relief of
a wreck, and makes herself fast to the object of her care;
— if she succeeds, well ; but if not, she heaves off, and sees
to her own safety. It was not thus that our Redeemer
came to us in our low estate. He united himself to man.
He threw himself into this wreck, so that if he should
come away, he should bring the outcast with him.
I rejoice in the omniscience of the Holy One, on whom
our help was laid, both on account of the good that he
knew in man, and the evil. A counsellor who under-
stood less fully what our nature was, and our constitu-
tion fitted us to become, might have advised abandon-
ment. It often becomes a question of great importance
in human aftairs, whether a stranded ship should be left
to her fate, or brought off and repaired. Sometimes an
erroneous judgment is formed and acted on. On one
132 HE KNEW WHAT WAS IN MAN.
side, an effort is made to save the wreck, when it would
have been better to abandon it, and construct another.
Again, she is sometimes weakly abandoned, when it
would have been profitable to have saved her.
I confess it is only in our view that this conception
has place at all, regarding the purpose of the Saviour
not to abandon fallen man, but to save. In the wisdom
that is infinite, the end has been seen from the begin-
ning, and there is never any period of doubt. The gifts
and calling of God are without repentance. Yet we are
permitted, from our own view-point, to scan the ways of
God in the light of Scripture, and in the exercise of our
own faculties. A helper who understood less of our
original nature and capability might have proposed to
cast us off as hopelessly damaged. .
Some profound inquirers believe that they see marks
of successive destructions and successive re-creations of
life on the crust of our globe. Earlier races seem to
have been wholly abandoned and engulfed. After-
wards, and above the debris, new organisms have been
created to people the renovated earth. It is further
noticed, that while the new species are similar to the
extinct, there is over all a rise into higher styles of life.
Now, one who did not perfectly know what man was in
his creation, might naturally have supposed, that by al-
lowing the wreck to be wholly washed away, a new and
higher degree of intelligence might have been called into
existence. But the Saviour knew what was in man,
and therefore undertook to save him from going down
HE KNEW WHAT WAS IN MAN.
nz
to the pit. He knew that already the work was perfect ;
that this work could not be annihilated, like earlier
stages of creation, for God had now breathed into the
creature a living soul. He knew, moreover, that no
other and different being could be made, who should be
more capable of enjoying God's favour, and showing
forth God's praise. Thus, because he knew what was in
man at first, he knew how to deal with him when he fell,
— knew that it would be more for God's glory to redeem
and sanctify the fallen, than to cast them away and
create another race. Because of their worth unfallcn, he
will undertake the rescue.
And although he knew all the evil that .was in them
by sin, he did not disdain to undertake the rescue. Al-
though, knowing the curse that lay on them and the cor-
ruption that was in them, he knew what was necessary to
redeem and save, he yet said, •' Save from going down to
the pit ; I have found a ransom."
These, indeed, are the two elements that constitute the
lost estate of man. The curse is on them, and the alien-
ation is in them. The Healer, knowing the ailment, yet
undertakes the cure on both its sides. He will remove
both evils by becoming man and taking his people's
place, that they, partakers again of the divine nature,
may enjoy his place before God. By assuming the
nature of the fallen, and meeting the law in their stead,
he received the curse into himself; and in him it was
exhausted. There is therefore now no condemnation
to them that are in Christ Jesus. The hand-writing that
134 HE KNEW WHAT WAS IN MAN.
was against us has been blotted out : it is nailed to his
cross. He became sin for us, who knew no sin, that we
might be made the righteousness of God in him.
On the other side, the ailment was an indwelling
enmity against God. This also he takes away by the
blood of the cross. When we realize that in Christ God
is reconciled to us, we become reconciled to God. These
two can walk together now, for they are agreed. He is
our peace.
Some lessons. — i. Speaking now of the individual and
of the unconverted : He knows what is in man, and yet
he does not cast out the unclean. Lepers were not
allowed to dwell among the people; but He who is holy,
harmless, and undefiled, welcomes the leprous to his
bosom. Nay, more ; this Man receiveth sinners into a
much more intimate relation. He ingrafts them into
himself, like branches in the vine. It is true, indeed, that
the nature of the strange vine is changed in the act of
engrafting : but how changed .? Changed by getting all
its evil drunk up by the Good Vine. When Christ pro-
claims, " Whosoever will, let him come," he invites the
leprous to be joined to his body as members, and cleanses
them by receiving their sin and imparting to them his
holiness.
2. Speaking now of his own disciples : he knows what
is in them ; and, with that knowledge, it is because he is
God, and not man, that he does not shake them off.
Even when a church of his, or a disciple, becomes to him
HE KNEW WHAT WAS IN MAN. 135
like water neither cold nor hot — a taste that is naturally
and necessarily loathsome — he does not spue them out
of his mouth. He does, indeed, hold that threat over
them ; but it is not in order to execute it — it is in order
that it may never be executed. He who intends to cast
out does not so proclaim his purpose. That purpose is
proclaimed, that it may never be fulfilled. They are in
that loathed condition. It is not conditional ; it is an
actual, indicated fact. But his casting them out is not a
fact at all ; it is a terror thrown out to stir the slothful
into activity, the worldling into living faith. He hates
putting away : his threat of putting away is his method
of keeping closer in.
3. He knows what is in man, and therefore can make
his word and providence suitable. All things are for
your sakes. Some are piercing words— they make the
children tremble ; but ye that are the children, these
words have awakened many slumberers who might not
otherwise have been awakened—" Then shall he say,
Depart from me, ye cursed." Some are tender and com-
forting—" Fear not, for I am with you." His providences,
too, aUhough for the time they may seem mysterious,
all work together for our good. All power is given unto
him, in heaven and in earth.
4. He knows what is in man— in each man— in the
secret chambers of every heart. We do not know what
is in each other. We could not afford that-we could
not endure it. We could not endure that a stranger
should search our thoughts ; we could not afford to open
1^6 HE KNEW WHAT WAS IN MAN.
all to our nearest. If our thoughts were suddenly re-
vealed— as through a glass in our breasts — to one another,
there would be shame and confusion. This assembly
would scatter like the con^-recfation of Pharisees from the
temple when Jesus said, '' Let him that is without sin
among you cast the first stone at her." But be of good
cheer. Our neighbour does not know what is in us ; our
brother does not. The wife does not know what is in
her husband ; the husband does not know what is in his
wife. It could not be. Life would be intolerable on
these terms. One only knows what is in man : He
knows it. To those who remain at enmity this is the
terror of the Lord within them. But when we are at
peace through the blood, it is the sweetest of all things
to know that He knows what is in us.
Nothing that defileth shall enter heaven. Those who
shall be admitted to the mansions of the Father must be
pure, as he is pure. Here is ground of unspeakable fear.
What if, after I have examined myself, and put away
every evil that I have discovered, there should remain
remnants of corruption that escaped my notice, and will
keep the gate shut against me in that day } True, we
may miss some corruptions in our search. We do not
know what is in man — this man, this self. But it is not
left to depend on the completeness of our search. One
knows all. He knows what is in man — in this man. He
knows everything that is defiling. He will not pass over
any spot. The blood of Jesus Christ, God's Son, cleans-
eth us from all sin. He who has pledged himself to
HE KNEW WHAT WAS IN MAN. 137
make them pure and bring- them home, knows all the
plague-spots in his people.
Why should any disciple close any corner of his heart
against Christ? He searches all the chambers for the
evil spirits, to cast them out.
Sometimes one's life is placed in danger through
poison ; notably and chiefly through poison from the
bite of a rabid dog. Great care is taken to draw the
poison out ; and after the utmost efforts have been ap-
plied, they cauterize and close the wound, hoping yet
fearing, — hoping that the deadly poison may have been
all taken out, but fearing lest some remnant may still
remain in. From day to day, from week to week, the
patient remains in agony, lest some microscopic atom of
the evil may be still in the blood. What peace there
would have been if an infallible physician had looked
into the wound and applied the remedy !
Fear not, sin-poisoned but blood-redeemed soul. He
knows what poison was injected into your being by sin :
He knows — he saves — he saves to the uttermost. By
dying, he destroyed death. He has taken that poison
into his own heart— taken it all. There is now no
condemnation.
((
X.
^oh Iniotoit -a^ a |ictitge.
God zs known in her palaces for a refiigey — Psalm xlviii. 3.
NEVER heard a more joyful song than this.
From beginning to end it is one continuous
outburst of triumphing praise. Of Saul, ere
yet the new man within him was a day old, It was said,
" Behold, he prayeth." The symptom Indicated that
life In Its roots was at least begun ; but here we have
ranker growth and riper fruit. Listen : " Great is the
Lord, and greatly to be praised In the city of our God."
Behold, he glorieth ; and his glorying Is good, for It is in
the Lord. Those children of Zion were joyful in their
King.
From this jubilant hymn we select for our lesson to-
day a sentence In which all its essence seems to lie.
The third verse Is the key-note of the psalm ; and such
is the simplicity of its structure, that we may obtain all
Its meaning by the simplest examination of its words,
without departing from the order in which they lie.
Beginning with the primal idea which lies like a kernel
GOD KNOWN AS A REFUGE. 139
in the centre, we shall work our way outward to the cir-
cumference, analyzing in succession each fuld of truth
that has been wrapped around it. The layers, six in
number, through which the analysis will pass, from the
inmost heart to the outmost surface, are these :
I. God.
11. God is.
III. God is known.
IV. God is known in her.
V. God is known in her palaces.
VI. God is known in her palaces for a refuge.
The last is for us the crowning truth. It is the food on
which a soul lives ; and all that lies beneath is like the
root that nourishes or the stalk that bears it. The five
that go before and lie within are related to the com-
pleted outmost utterance, as the earlier stages of bud
and blossom and swelling germ are related to the
ripened fruit. These earlier, inner stages, could not be
wanted. If any one of them fail, the whole process be-
comes an abortion, and there is no profitable ultimate
result ; but none of these preparatory developments can
satisfy by itself and as an end The bud, the blossom,
the green germ, will not feed the hungry ; and yet if
there be not the bud, the blossom, and the green germ,
the hungry will not be fed : so, although the doctrines
regarding the being and knowledge of God lie at the
foundation of all saving truth, they cannot by themselves
satisfy a soul. It is when the germs ripen at last into
God a refuge for me, that I can eat and be filled.
I40 GOD KNOWN AS A REFUGE.
In this exposition throughout I shall treat the psalm
after the manner of the New Testament, as a typical
revelation of Christ.
I. God. — The first germ of religion is the conception
of God. A Being whom we call eternal, omnipotent,
infinite — a Being greater than ourselves and our world —
a Being who made us and our world, — this idea lies at
the foundation of religious worship. By constitution,
human creatures are capable of entertaining such con-
ceptions, while other creatures within reach of our ob-
servation are not. It is because we were made at first
in God's image, that we can image God again in our
minds. If we had not in our creation been taken from
that mould, we could not, even in imperfect and dis-
torted forms, have reproduced it. God is a spirit ; and
only spiritual natures can worship. Even false worship
argues a constitutional capacity for the true. The
beasts that perish never fall into idolatry.
The conception of God is the greatest thing in man.
In proportion as it is lost or distorted, human dignity
decays, and the race sinks nearer the level of inferior
creatures. The mould on which he was made is the
cause of man's original greatness ; but when he ceases to
lay himself habitually back upon his origin, his being
shrinks down again into the dimensions of a lower
species. When the human mind has for many genera-
tions been unused to the elevation and expansion
implied in the conception of God a spirit, it becomes
GOD KNOWN AS A REFUGE. ,4,
permanently contracted and incapable. How hard and
long is the task of the missionary in a savage tribe, ere
he get the opening into his pupil's soul stretched out
again so wide as to admit the idea of the Supreme !
11. God 2>.— This is the first proposition in the inspired
confession of faith: "He that cometh to God must
believe that he is " (Heb. xi. 6). This is the pillar and
ground of truth. Our idea of God depends on his
existence, not his existence on our idea. Our conception
is a ray of light thrown off from the fact: if the fact
were not, the conception would not have been. The
insect that lives and moves with many of its kind in a
drop of water, knows not the being and attributes of the
naturalist who is gazing down upon it through the tube
of his microscope; but his existence and power are in-
dependent of its knowledge or ignorance. So God is,
though some deny his being, and more misrepresent his
character. The pit that yawns before a benighted
traveller does not depend for its existence on his obser-
vation. If he see it in time, and turn, it is well for
himself; but if he does not see it, his blindness does not
make it cease to be. How plain is this truth ; and yet
how many miss it ! An atheist may reason against the
existence of God, and a worldly man may keep God out
of all his thoughts, but neither the one nor the other can
blot God out of being. Although we practically banish
God out of our little spot of time, he will meet us when
we enter his great eternity.
142 GOD KNOWN AS A REFUGE.
III. God is knoivn. — It is instructive to observe Paul's
method in reasoning with the Athenians regarding the
altar which they had dedicated to the unknown God,
and the cognate argument which he addressed to the
idolaters at Lystra (Acts xvii. 22-29; xiv. 15-17). In
both cases he appeals to the evidence of God's being
and attributes which the visible creation displays. This
is an inspired recognition of natural religion. The
revelation which has been imprinted on earth and sky
does not go far enough for the necessities of the fallen ;
but it is true as far as it goes. The record is authentic
and clear. Men ought both to perceive its meaning and
trust in its truth. It is only from the Bible that I can
learn how my sin may be forgiven ; but outside of the
Bible I see evidence that God is.
The world over all its breadth bears the impress of Its
Maker's hand. The word that is spoken from heaven
wakens a thousand echoes on earth. We are compassed
about with a cloud of witnesses ; but the clearest
evidence is given by the still small voice that whispers
within our own being.
God is, and he may be known ; for he puts himself in
our way at every turn of our path. The multitude ride
forward on their own errands, like Balaam, noticing not
the Angel who stands in the way. Those who pass
through this world without the knowledge of God, will
not be able, when they fall into his hands, to plead the
excuse of ignorance. They are ignorant, because they do
not like to know. " That which may be known of God
GOD KNOWN AS A REFUGE. ,43
is manifest In them ; for God hath shewed it unto them
For the invisible things of him from tlie creation of the
world are clearly seen, being understood by the things
that are made, even his eternal power and Godhead ; so
that they are without excuse." Not only out of his own
mouth, but out of his own frame, the atheist will be
condemned. In the organization of his body and the
capacity of his mind, and the things of his conscience, he
might have known God, if he would.
IV. God is knozvn in her. — " God is known," may be
taken as the motto of natural, " God is known in her,"
as the motto of revealed religion. It was in Jerusalem
that the Highest placed his name and established his
worship, in an age when nations and heathens were
synonymous words. He who chose this Earth among
the orbs of space as the habitation of his children and
the theatre of his glorious work, with equal sovereignty
chose Mount Zion from among the portions of the Earth's
surface as the place where his truth should be deposited
in early times, and whence it should spread over all at
last. The grandest and best -known fact of ancient
history is, that God was known in her as he was not
known in other places or by other peoples. He chose the
seed of Abraham to be custodiers of his truth : " You
only have I known of all the nations of the earth." He
trained them for his purpose by peculiar ordinances and
a peculiar history. He fixed them to the spot by ties
that all the revolutions of time have not been able to
144 GOD KNOWN AS A REFUGE.
break. He knit them together by bonds which, Hke the
bush that Moses saw in the wilderness, have been burn-
ing these three thousand years, and have not yet been
consumed. The place was chosen for the people, and
the people wedded to the place, by the wisdom of the
Omniscient.
In an important sense Palestine lay in the midst of
the ancient world, and the kingdom of Israel in the
midst of human history. Between the ancient civiliza-
tion of the East and the brighter Western light that
shone later in life's long day, — in contact with the multi-
tudinous and ancient East on the one side, and with the
new worlds that sprang into view successively in the
Roman Empire and in the modern solidarity of civilized
nations on the other, — Jerusalem occupied the very
centre of God's work and ways. - In her the Word was
deposited, that from her it might spread ; in her God
was known, that by her he might be made known to the
nations of the earth.
It is probable that a great destiny is yet in store for
Jerusalem. The sin of its people was indeed like scar-
let when they crucified the Holy One and the Just ; but
through the blood that their hands shed their guilt may
be taken away. When God's judgments have been suffi-
ciently made known by the wanderings of weary Israel
through all lands, Jerusalem may yet again become a
praise in the earth. She has long been trodden down of
the Gentiles. Nations sunk in similar but rival supersti-
tions contend among her ruins, but not for truth. They
GOD KNOWN AS A REFUGE. ,43
fight for the sepulchre where the Lord once lay, while
they crucify the Saviour afresh, and put him again to an
open shame. Oh, foolish Greeks and Latins ! who halh
bewitched you, that ye seek the living among the dead ?
He is not there ; he has risen. To them that look for
him he shall appear ; but he will not reveal himself to
them that seek for the print of his foot on the ground of
Palestine, or the old nails of his cross in monastic reposi-
tories, as if these were their saviours. As the liehtnino"
shineth from one end of heaven to another, so shall the
coming of the Son of man be.
But here we must not circumscribe the lesson within
the limits of the past. From the seed sown in Palestine
an increase of many hundredfold has sprung, to replenish
the earth with plenty. Forth from the Temple a small
stream trickled, detected by Ezekiel's keen prophetic
eye ; but the river grew as it flowed, until it has become
broad and deep like a sea. Jerusalem is now the church
of the faithful on earth, and will be the home of the holy
on high. There was much knowledge of God in the old
Jerusalem ; there is more in the Jerusalem that now is,
the spiritual family of Abraham ; and there will be most
in the new Jerusalem. In her God will be known in
full. There shall be no need of the sun or of the moon
to shine in her, for the Lord God and the Lamb are the
light thereof
Wherever Christ is admitted King into a believing
heart, there are the thrones of the house of David, there
the temple stands, and thence sweet incense rises morn-
(512) 10
146 GOD KNOWN AS A REFUGE.
iiig and evening to Heaven. Wherever many such be-
lievers are congregated, there is the city of the great
King : whether it be in the heart of the metropoHs or in
a Higrhland "-len ; whether it be in this favoured island
or on the Western Continent ; whether under our nor-
thern skies or under the sun of India, — wherever there
are believing men and women, there is a peopled Jeru-
salem ; and of that city it is the distinction still, that God
is known in her.
V. God is known in her palaces. — The psalm commem-
orates a revival in high places. The primary reference
is probably to the reign of Jehoshaphat (2 Chron. xvii.-
XX.). When grace was poured into the heart of the king,
all ranks felt the benefit. Like rain on mountain-tops,
it refreshed first the lofty summits on which it fell, and
afterwards the plains that lay at their base.
The poor are precious in God's sight. To them the
gospel was preached by the Messenger of the Covenant
himself; and to this fact he pointed as the distinctive
feature of his ministry. "The common people heard
him gladly ; " while the rulers, with rare exceptions,
boasted of their unbelief In the present day, too, the
Spirit has been in a signal measure poured upon the
poor. In some cities and districts where the lowest have
been copiously refreshed, the upper classes have been
left in a great measure unvisited. In some districts the
cottages have been w^et with dew, while over the neigh-
bouring [)alaccs the heavens have remained as brass, and
COD KNOWN AS A REFUGE. 147
under them the earth has remained as iron. The divid-
ing-Hne has sometimes been as sharply traced as the hne
between Gideon's fleece and the dryness of the surround-
ing soil. God is sovereign ; he does not give an account
of his ways. Yet there is with him no respect of per-
sons. The rich are as precious in his sight as the poor,
and no more. Probably during the last thirty years the
scattered cases of conversion have been proportionally
more numerous among the comfortable and educated
classes. Not long ago, Christian patriots looked with
undisguised dread on the masses. Perhaps the spiritual
awakening of late years, bursting suddenly upon certain
districts like thunder-storms, is intended by the Divine
Administrator to restore the balance. When, by a long
silent process of detailed acquisitions, either the earth
below or the clouds above have acquired more than their
own share of electricity, the equilibrium is restored, not
by an equally gradual process on the other side, but by
a grand and sudden outbreak, which makes not only
man but also birds and beasts stand still with bated
breath until it pass. If we could make our observations
as accurately in spiritual as in natural meteorology, we
might perhaps discover, that by bringing charged clouds
over the lowliest portions of the people, and making them
burst in blessings on the neediest heads, God over all is in
his wonted way making even, by a sudden outpouring, the
odds in spiritual attainment between class and class which
had been growing during the currency of a generation.*
* This paragraph refers to the revival in i860.
148 GOD KNOWN AS A REFUGE.
In the meantime, all that is genuine in the Christianity
of the high places looks with unfeigned delight on the
knowledge of God that is spreading among the poor.
When the blessing falls like showers on the workman's
cottage, the palace of the noble shares the benefit. The
participation is reciprocal, as the plains receive the sur-
plus of a shower that falls first upon the mountains, and
the mountains are moistened in turn by the vapour that
rises from the saturated plains. From a spiritually re-
freshed palace, a blessing oozes down to the cottage ;
and from the spiritually refreshed cottage the blessing
rises and enters the palace gates. One of the joys of
the redeemed in rest, I think, will be the discovery,
made in the light of heaven, that in ways and measures
before unsuspected, each had been used as a vessel to
bear a blessing to all, and all to bear a blessing to each.
While they will learn that all good has flowed from the
Head, they will learn also, with a subordinate but keen
and pure joy, that much of it has flowed through fellow-
members.
In our great cities, not only many palaces, but many
streets of palaces, rise and proudly point to heaven. We
have greater wealth than Jerusalem ever knew. In her
palaces, at the period to which the psalm refers, God was
known. Is he known in ours to-day .'* This is the mean-
ing of the text for us.
Here, as we lean on the Scripture for authority, let us
endeavour to receive also from the Scripture our tone.
We must, on the one hand, beware lest in morbid fretful-
GOD KNOWN AS A REFUGE. 149
ness we overstate the case ; and, on the other, lest from
lack of courage we understate it. Our palaces — both
those that are used for business and those that are oc-
cupied as homes — are shut in by lofty walls from the
view of passengers on the street ; but they are open
upwards to the eye of God. From above he looks into
every room of the palatial dwelling, and on every desk
of the palatial office. God is known in the palaces of
our city. He knows them that are his ; and they that
are his know him. They are safe in his keeping. While
they walk with him in v/hite, neither the blandishments
of a palace home, nor the tricks of a palace counting-
house, will be able to defile their garments, or turn them
into crooked paths.
But these are a little flock — how small, or how great,
no man knoweth. The disciples once ventured to ask
the Lord the question, " Are there few that be saved } "
In reply, he said that i^\w were entering by the narrow
gate into eternal life. The answer proves two things :
first, that there were still some outside ; and, second, that
the Lord Jesus wanted them to come in. Be it known,
then, that when in the Lord's name we complain that
few are coming, we mean, as he meant, to invite more.
In many palaces God is not known. The inhabitants
worship another trinity — the devil, the world, and the
flesh. Aloft the prince of the power of the air presides,
and two subordinate strange gods guard on either side
the palace gate — the world and the flesh, filthy lucre and
filthy lust. One or other of these demigods mounts
150 GOD KNOWN AS A REFUGE.
guard on every one of the devil's captives. Here, on
one side of the street, is a palace in which God is not
known ; for the love of money guards the gate, and bars
the blessed knowledge out. The princes and princesses
of this palace must make their choice between the two,
for both portions they cannot have. No man can serve
two masters; and, in particular, "ye cannot serve God
and Mammon." But the palace on the other side of the
street, which is not closed against the knowledge' of God
by avarice, may be closed as effectually by other and
opposite lusts. In palaces not a few a wheel of variety
is painfully driven round, with great velocity, that it may
throw off and keep at bay all serious thought. Alas !
more pains are taken to keep the Lord out of his temple
than all the pain of his scourging would amount to, if he
should come in and drive his rivals out.
Oh, ye princes ! be wise : kiss the Son, lest he be
angry. Oh, ye palaces of Edinburgh ! lift up your gates,
that the King of glory may come in.
When in this lesson I speak of princes and palaces, do
not understand the terms in any private interpretation.
They should not be limited to the few who are techni-
cally entitled to the name in our social system. The
substance of the title belongs to all the educated and
talented.
The human skull, where the material organ of thought
resides, has been called the palace of the soul. The
princely spirit that dwells beneath that stately dome
counts and keeps the whole world its tributary. In a
GOD KNOWN AS A REFUGE,
\\\
princely way, this king of the creatures has caught and
tamed the powers of nature, and yoked them to his
chariot. At the door of that regal residence a Stranger
stands and knocks. He pleads for admission, and re-
fuses to go away. Hear his voice : " If any man open, I
will come in." This is God our Saviour. When he is
admitted, God will be known in that palace; for, "He
that hath seen me, hath seen the Father." Christ in
heaven will be no comfort in the end to those who shut
the palace gate against him on the earth. Not Christ
in heaven, but Christ in you, is the hope of glory.
VI. God is knoivn in her palaces for a refuge. — The
historic allusion in the psalm is obvious. Israel is
praising God for deliverance from a threatened danger.
The kines who had assembled with their armies to war
against Jerusalem, no sooner came within sight of the
city than they hasted away without striking a blow.
God the Lord was their sun and shield. He was not
only in the midst of Jerusalem, but also a wall of fire
round about her.
Without further reference to the primary historic allu-
sion, and using the psalm freely as the type of gospel
grace, let us proceed at once to consider the bearing of
the lesson upon ourselves. On this last point all that
has gone before absolutely depends. The idea, the ex-
istence, the knowledge of God, whether among rich or
poor, become for us all or nothing, according as we recog-
nize him as our refuge, or fear him as our foe. Whether
152 GOD KNOWN AS A REFUGE.
they flee from God or to him, is the article of a standing
or a falling Church — a living or a dying soul. They
who do not know God as a refuge, do not know him
at all.
No man does, no man can, run of his own free will
into the arms of his enemy. As well might you expect
the law of gravitation to be changed or suspended, as
the law, enmity generates distance. " Can two walk
together except they be agreed } " The guilty con-
science, apart from the hope of mercy, can no more
come close to the Judge than a stone can swim on the
surface of the sea. As long as God is and appears to
the sinful a consuming fire, the sinful will remain distant
from God. It is when a glimpse of his grace shines
through, that the alienated heart is drawn in a new di-
rection. When faith in its first germ — secret, like the
beginnings of life — begins to see in God's bosom a
shelter from God's wrath, forthwith the prodigal says,
" I will arise and go to my Father " — forthwith he rises
and goes. Clasped in the Father's fond embrace, wet
with the Father's gushing tears, admitted into the Father's
happy home, and seated at the Father's festal board, the
prodigal at length knows his Father. Thus it is when a
sinner knows God a refuge, that he first knows God
at all.
We discover here the grand characteristic defect of
unreal religion in all its forms and under all its disguises.
It treats God as an enemy, and strives to make the best
of a miserable lot. Springing in a conception, more or
GOD KNOWN AS A REFUGE. ,53
less clear, that God is just, and that men are sinful, it
puts forth all its efforts to conceal human guilt, or to
diminish divine righteousness. Where the conscience is
in any measure active, the life of the unreconciled is a
constant and hopeless struggle to keep an almighty-
enemy at bay.
Brethren, the first thing in religion is to be reconciled
to God. The gospel is the ministry of reconciliation.
Christ came into the world as the Redeemer of sinners,
and has ascended into heaven as our Intercessor with the
Father. He is our peace ; and mark, if he be not our
peace with God, he is nothing to us. Christ never under-
took to lighten by a little the stroke of a still angry God.
He offers to make God and man friends out and out, —
to take all the enmity away, and make the alienated
meet where " perfect love casteth out fear." Nor does
he bid you wait for this boon till the judgment is set and
the books are opened. He offers all now.
God is love, and Christ is the way to the Father.
Him that cometh, he will in no wise cast out. Who-
soever will, let him come. He saves to the uttermost.
Ah ! in these palaces, and in these low lanes too, both
are alike ; but we must touch one at a time. In these
palaces people don't want such a refuge from such a
danger. The plain truth is, when the manifold formali-
ties and hypocrisies are torn off — the truth is, the dangers
from which God is a refuge are the pleasures in which
the unconverted luxuriate, and the refuge to which the
gospel invites them is the dungeon which they loathe and
1 54 GOD KNOWN AS A REFUGE.
dread. The dangers are dangers, because they are
loved ; and the refuge does not shield, because it is
loathed.
Go- into a city palace where a numerous ministry con-
ducts the government of a business under the direction
of a regal head. Chief and subordinates alike are ex-
posed to a strain of temptations, as if they stood up to
the chin in a rapid river. Tell them a refuge is near and
open. Invite them to run into it, and promise them
safety there. What refuge } God in Christ. Lay your
soul on Jesus' breast ; his love will clasp you round, and
shield you from all evil. But if these men are of the
world, and strangers to repentance and faith, you are in
effect bidding them thrust their naked hands into a flame.
This gain is their god. These pleasures are the air they
breathe. They don't want to be defended from that in
which they live, and move, and have their being. Hence
God is not known in the palaces of the worldly, because
they will not flee to him as a refuge. To many an occu-
pation and many a company they flee as a refuge from
God, but never yet have they fled to God for a refuge
from sin.
In an Egyptian palace next to regal, long, long ago, a
stripling was assailed by a tempest of temptation greater
than any that ever beat on our heads. Joseph, solicited
to profitable sin by the woman whose property he was,
seems to me like a noble vessel hanging on her anchor
in the storm. Your eyes swim as you venture to throw
a glance on the scene ; you scarcely dare to look,
GOD KNOWN AS A REFUGE. ^^^
When you lose sight of the object for a moment in
the spray, you expect that the next sight will be that
of a dismal wreck. But no, the anchor holds. Ah, the
anchor of his soul was fastened " sure and steadfast within
the veil" before the storm came on. In that palace, by
the slave if not by the prince, God was known for a
refuge : "How can I do this great evil, and sin against
God } " But mark, God w^as Joseph's friend. Joseph
lay for shelter on the Redeemer's breast, and he could
not bear to wound the loving breast whereon he lay. If
the strain of that temptation had caught him while he
was without God in the world, it would have carried him
away.
It is sin already done that makes the sinner continue
sinning. It is an evil conscience that keeps a man far
from God. The disease is sin ; the cure is pardon.
When I am at peace with God through the death of his
Son, — when seeing me in Christ he counts me no longer
guilty, and seeing him in Christ I no longer know him
hard, — then begins a filial trust, a faithful service. When
God is my friend, I flee to him for help ; and when he is
my helper, I am more than conqueror. If, when tempta-
tions press me, I flee from them to God, I shall surely
escape. For poor, blind, guilty, dying creatures, such as
we are, there are only two ways open — we must either
flee from God, or flee to him. To, those no good can
happen, to these no evil.
One thing is needful ; and this is the meaning of a
gospel ministry, — " Be ye reconciled to God." Make
156 GOD KNOWN AS A REFUGE.
him your refuge, and you will find the way is open, and
the welcome prepared. Make him your refuge, and all
things will work together for your good. When evil
passions stir within, and evil men oppress without, — when
conscience accuses, and death overshadows, — I am like a
dove tossed with the tempest : but like a dove tossed on
the tempest, I see an opening into the bosom of my
Father, — thither I fly away to be at rest. Blessed is
even the storm which drove the dove to its window.
Blessed, in the end, will be the miscellaneous dangers and
trials of life; for they shut the pilgrim up to the Refuge of
his soul, and kept him cowering deep, deep, all his days,
in God's loving-kindness, which is better than life.
XI.
♦' And they departed quickly from the sepulchre with fear and great joy:'
Matthew xxviii. 8.
ESUS died and was buried on the preparation,
the day before the Sabbath. The darkness
that covered all the land passed away before
he died ; but the darkness that hung on his disciples'
hearts did not clear away till after he was risen. Their
hope was buried with him in his grave ; but it rose with
him from the grave again. That Sabbath was a dark
day for the followers of the Crucified. When the Sab-
bath and the week were ended, and the dawn of the first
day approached, the two Marys set out together and
climbed the hill to see the sepulchre. Mark, they did
not expect to see Jesus, dead or living. They knew that
the great stone covered the mouth of the cave ; but they
will "go and look upon the place where the Lord lies.
Love will not give an account of its ways. It is a great
instinct that rules the life, and it will take its own course.
To -o and stand near the spot at dawn, when there will
158 JESUS IS RISEN.
be none to observe them, and look upon the stone and
weep, — this is what these women will do, and nothing
can keep them from it.
As they approached the spot, the earth shook. It
was not an earthquake of the ordinary kind. It was a
ministering angel that alighted on the earth, and made it
shake in order to shake the stone away, that these two
seekers might see that the tomb was empty.
The countenance of the angel was like lightning, and
his raiment white as snow. This bears close resemblance
to the appearance of the Lord when he was transfigured
on the mountain. I have observed that when princes
appear in state, their attendants are arrayed in robes that
are like their own. The glorious apparel of a prince's
train is understood to shed lustre on the prince. All the
angels of God worship him, and here a messenger going
the errands of the Crucified is arrayed in a glory borrowed
from his own.
The keepers — Roman soldiers — trembled ; but the
angel, passing them over unnoticed, said to the women,
" Fear not YE, for I know that ye seek Jesus." Blessed
word ; and it holds good to-day. There is no fear to
them that seek Jesus. Seek, and ye shall find. " Jesus
which was crucified." Already in that word there was
the beginning of hope. It was dawm on the hill in a
double sense — " WAS crucified." The past tense already
prepared the way for a more articulate message : " He is
not here ; for he has risen, as he said. Come, see the
place where the Lord lay."
JESUS IS RISEAr. ,5^^
Redemption was now wrought ; the next step in the
eternal counsel is to get it proclaimed. Both at tlic fu'st
and the last points of Christ's life on earth angelic mes-
sengers are needed. His incarnation was a new thin^r in
the world : it was God's visit to men. When it is made
known on the earth, men will be employed to spread it
over the earth ; but there is a first promulgation of the
fact, for which men are not competent. Angels brought
down the tidings of his birth, and angels brought down
the tidings of his resurrection ; but when they reached
the earth, the tidings spread from man to man, and will
so spread until the knowledge of the Lord shall cover the
earth as the waters cover the sea.
The message by the angel is given to women, and the
women were directed to carry it to the disciples. When
it reaches them, it will spread ; for they have been trained,
and will soon be commissioned to go into all the world
and preach the gospel to every creature.
Angels to the women on Calvary ; the women to the
twelve ; the twelve to the world. So the fiery cross was
carried from mountain-ridge to mountain-ridge ; one
bearer laying it down, and another taking it up, until it
had summoned all the clan to the standard of the chief.
The false message which brought sin into the world
and all our woe was given first to woman, and by her
was communicated to the man. The resurrection of the
Lord — the healing of that early death wound — was com-
municated in the same way. From an angel to woman,
and from woman to man, and from man to the world
i6o JESUS IS RISEN.
came death. From an evil angel, through the link of
woman to mankind, the evil tidings spread and covered
the earth. From a good angel to women, and from
women to men, and from men to the world, came life —
the life of the world.
Through woman came the Word, the Word who was
made flesh and dwelt among us, — God's message and
meaning to our race. And it pleased the Father also to
employ woman to break the news of his resurrection to
his disciples, and so supply apostles with the theme of
their preaching, — and so supply apostles with the lever
whereby they might raise a fallen world.
It is not much preaching that we get from angels' lips;
but there is a little here, and that little very precious.
The commission he brought and laid on the two Marys
was, " Go quickly, and tell his disciples that he is risen
from the dead ; " and in order to prepare them for obey-
ing, he said first to them, " Fear not ye." One who is
overwhelmed in spirit by despair is not well fitted to run
express on any mission: "A broken spirit who can bear?"
You may have observed that when your heart was heavy
your knees were feeble. The joy of the Lord is the
strenc^th for runninq; the errands of the Lord. Accord-
ingly the angel gave their spirits the cordial before he
imposed the race upon their limbs.
Besides exhorting them not to fear, he gave them
ground to bear their joy : " The Lord is not here ; he is
risen." The angel knew his part well, for the whole
theory of missions is here. To invite the messenger first
yESUS IS RISEN. 16 1
near, that himself may know that the Lord is risen, and
his own soul rejoice in the living Saviour, — this it is that
will qualify him for going quickly to bring word to the
disciples, or to the world, of the resurrection of Christ.
Mark how much the angel makes of the resurrection.
In his theology, that is the article of a standing or a fall-
ing Church. It would appear that the words " Jesus is
risen " are the first and the second and the third articles
of the angelic creed. It is this that he imparts first
of all to the women, in order to cheer their hearts
and sustain them in their mission ; then when he sends
them away, the message he puts in their mouths is
still the same thing : Tell his disciples that Jesus is
risen.
To the end — as long as the preaching of the gospel
lasts — all effective evangelization proceeds in this way.
*
'* The Lord is risen " is at once the hope that sustains the
preacher's heart in secret, and dwells upon the preacher's
lips in the great assembly. The resurrection of Christ
is at once the tidings he proclaims, and the confidence
for himself that enables him to proclaim it. As all the
rivers run into the sea before our sight, precisely because
all the rivers run out of the sea unseen in the mysteries
of nature ; so all the missionaries pour out the cry upon
the world, "The Lord is risen," because for themselves in
secret the resurrection of the Lord is the day-star arisen
in their hearts.
" They did run to bring the disciples word." It was
the word within them that impelled them to hasten. It
(512) 1 1
1 62 JESUS IS RISEN.
was the word in their heart that made them run with the
word on their hps.
They were wound up ere they came to the sepulchre.
Their spirits were on the utmost stretch of desire and
love ; but the angel's message was a mighty weight that
set all the machinery of their being in motion. When
these erave Oriental women turned down the hill in the
direction of the city, they quickened their pace until,
without a word to each other, they simultaneously broke
into a race. The act was not ordinary : it would be ac-
counted strange. I delight to see a meaning in their
act ; I delight to interpret its meaning to myself, placing
it under the light of the completed gospel. I find in it
much instruction and reproof
For once, — and the variety may be useful, — instead of
gathering our lessons from the words of the Lord and his
witnesses, let us gather them to-day from the act of the
two Marys on that Sabbath morning, as they left the
empty tomb behind and made their way toward the city:
" They did run to bring the disciples word."
I detect a grand key-note here. It is not only the
message carefully learned and correctly told ; it is not
only the faithful witness-bearing, whatever danger may
be incurred. Over and above all this, there is an eager-
ness, an enthusiasm, and a haste in bearing the message
of redemption, which are in keeping with the case, and
mark the conduct of true disciples in all places and at
all times.
The King's business requireth haste. This is strictly
JESUS IS RISEN. 163
natural ; it is a universal law. All great tidings travel
quickly, whether they be glad or grievous. The velocity
of great news is proverbial, and the manner of the race is
mysterious. Before the telegraph was invented, great
victories and great defeats travelled over continents
and reached those most interested, in ways that have
never been completely explained. Although we may not
be able to point out the details in each case, we can indi-
cate the general law. It is here : the tidings were very
great ; they were charged with life from the dead for the
world ; it was an instinct irrepressible in those who knew
them to break into a run, in order to bear them soon to
those whom they concerned.
When the tidings are great, and real, and felt, the
message-bearer runs with them. When the women told
the disciples, the disciples published them to the world ;
and the apostles did at their stage what the women did
on theirs, — they ran with the news. Read the Acts of
the Apostles. See the track of the Apostle of the
Gentiles across the nations. It is like the track of the
sun in the heavens, — he runs his race, and he runs it
rejoicing.
There was a long blank in the middle ages. The
message was lost, and the messengers did not run. There
was no haste, for they had let go the King's great busi-
ness, the resurrection-life of Christ. Instead of the angel's
method, leading the seekers to the place where the Lord
lay, to show it empty,— instead of fixing the spiritual
sight on the Redeemer exalted, they contrived a show
1 64 JESUS IS RISEN.
which persuaded people they had still his body within
their reach. They forgot his resurrection to die no more,
and made a multitude of mimic sacrifices, pretending
that each was the crucified body of the Lord in the hands
of the priest and in the lips of the penitent. This was
no such message as to compel people to run with. The
Lord Jesus, who had been dead, now alive for evermore,
— this is the burden of the Lord which the apostles bore,
and the possession of which compelled them to bear it
over all the earth. " Woe is me, if I preach not the
gospel ! "
There were some great heavings in Europe during
those middle ages, and some great expeditions under-
taken in the name of Christ. There was death, but not
death's stillness. The Crusades were great impulses and
great outgoings, — not one or two, but great armies went
forth with a message to the dark regions of the East.
But, ah, how different ! They bore not the word that the
Lord had risen : they bore fire and sword. '' My king-
dom," said Christ, " is not of this world : if my kingdom
were of this world, then would my servants fight." It
was " of this world " the message that the crusaders bore.
The age was dark ; the people were blind ; they went
off the line. Conceive the difference between an engine
with its train shooting along the valley with its pillar of
white cloud trailing behind to mark its path and speed,
and the same engine, off the line, plunging and hissing in
a morass. Such is the difference between the early dis-
ciples, who knew the living Lord, and lived themselves in
JESUS IS AVSEN. 165
the Lord, and those carnal multitudes who with carnal
weapons surged over Europe to place a dead Christ, — a
name, — upon the throne of an earthly Jerusalem.
With this century the true tidings began again to be a
burden of the Lord in the hearts of those who had heard
the joyful sound. Carey, and Judson, and Martyn, and
Brainerd, and many others, got visions of the empty
sepulchre,^ — got knowledge that the Lord is risen, — got
their own soul's life hidden in the risen Lord. Forthwith
they are constrained to spread the news : they "will de-
part quickly from the sepulchre," — they break into a run,
and make way across the nations to tell that the Lord
hath risen indeed.
There was a conflict. The night was annoyed at the
dawn. The darkness raged and attempted to extinguish
the light. Everywhere the contest raged. The civil
authorities in Lidia refused to allow the first missionaries
to settle on the soil : the missionaries took refuge on
Dutch territory, and thence conveyed their message to
the continent. In the General Assembly of the Scottish
Church at Edinburgh, men who officiated in the pulpit,
but who had not discovered that the Lord is risen,
demonstrated that the heathen were an interesting and
contented people, and that it was wise to let them alone
in their picturesque worship and innocent ways. Others
arose and quickly left the sepulchre, having discovered
that the Lord is risen : they went themselves, or if too
old for that, stirred up others to go into all the world
and publish the good tidings.
1 66 ' JESUS IS RISEN.
I know not any life, since the apostles' days, that more
completely embodies the idea of rimning to bring word
to the world that Christ has risen, than the life of William
Burns. I knew him personally, when I was his fellow-
student, soon after his own heart had taken in the tid-
ings. I knew him in his ministry in Scotland. I stood
beside him when he published the tidings to the Roman
Catholics in Canada. I have heard of him when he pene-
trated into the very heart of China, to deposit his burden
there. His life, from the day that he knew the risen
Lord, was one 7nin with the good tidings to the whole
world ; and now the breathless runner has completed
his course, and been admitted into rest.
Some bright gleams are now clearing through the dark-
ness,— some symptoms begin to appear that the runners
have not run in vain. In some districts of India the
fastenings of idolatry begin to give way. Glad news have
been echoed back from the island of Madagascar. The
government has deliberately and solemnly brought out
the royal idols and cast them into the flames, and de-
clared on the side of Christianity. In Africa and China
also there are proofs that the missionaries have not run
in vain. The Lord whom they serve will provide.
This haste is not limited in its outgoings to those who
are far off, or who have a dark skin. The haste belongs
to the heart that has the message. It cannot lie still.
In the wars of the Scottish clans, if the burning brand
was brought by a panting messenger and laid down at
a clansman's door, it was a point of honour and allegiance
yESUS IS RISEN. 167
that he should seize it and carry it on. It is thus with
the bearing on of the word that Christ has risen. Run
with it to them that are far off, and to them that are
nigh.
There is need of haste in this business. Bring it quickly
to the young, in order that their path through this world
may be in the sunlight, and not in the gloom of night.
Bring it quickly to the old, that they may have peace
in their latter end. Haste with the word " Christ has
risen," to all, that the course of life may be happy, and
the end of life safe.
The word means that Christ lives, — that he is in the
eternal world: and the edge of it is very near us, — as near
us now as the sea is near the margin of the land. The
Lord is in that land, — is touching the life of this land. So
, that when his disciple thinks of being led over, it is " to
depart and to be with Christ."
XII.
'"'' I zvill sijig of mercy and judgmejit : unto thee, O Lord, will I sitig^
Psalm ci. i.
HIS resolution indicates a hopeful and happy-
state of mind. A song is the natural channel
for the outflow of gladness. " Is any merry }
let him sing psalms." From a heart full of happiness
this song flows, as a pure stream runs over the brim of a
full well. He cannot hold in ; his joy must have vent :
" I will sing."
This is not a common singer ; this is not a common
song. There is something here which the world cannot
give, which the world cannot take away. It will be pro-
fitable for us to study his character, and endeavour to
follow his steps. His experience is supernatural and
peculiar: none but the Holy Spirit could have led him
through it ; but what he was, every one of us through
divine grace may be. Two things about this man's ex-
perience should give it a tender interest for us : first, it is
very precious ; and, second, we may reach it. Something
MERCY AND JUDGMEN7\ 169
attainable may fail to interest us, if it is not of high
value ; something very valuable may fail to interest us,
if it is unattainable. But here are both the blcssino^s.
This man enjoys a happiness on earth which is heaven
already begun ; and the path by which he reached it is
equally open to ourselves. Those who have gone before
us beckon us on. They seem to say, as Moses to Hobab,
" Come with us, and we will do thee good."
The text presents to our notice these three : the
Singer, the Listener, and the Song.
I. Who sings : David the king.
II. To whom he sings : "Unto thee, O Lord."
III. What he sings : " Of mercy and judgment."
I shall not speak at present of the first. It will be
best illustrated by an examination of the other two. The
character of the singer will be best ascertained by in-
quiring, first, to whom he sings ; and, second, what he
sings.
I. Consider, then, for a little, to whom this man
sings : " Unto thee, O Lord, will I singy — He turns to God
when he sin^s : he sin^s when he turns to God. Con-
scious nearness to God, and exuberant joyfulness of
spirit — these two have come together in the Psalmist.
These two do not always go together : very often when
they are brought near, they mutually destroy each
other, like fire and water. Apart from regeneration and
reconciling, you may have one of these two in human
experience, but not both. In the multitude of his
I70 MERCY AND JUDGMENT.
thoughts witliin him, an unconverted man may be
brought, and for a time kept, consciously near the Holy
One ; but then there are great sadness and grief in his
heart : or an unconverted man may experience great
joy ; but then he has turned away from God. You may
bring such a man to the Lord ; but as long as he is there,
he has no song : or you may give him a song ; but while
he is singing, he has put God out of all his thoughts.
To turn to the Lord, and in that attitude to sing for joy,
belongs to the children — to those who have been made
nigh by the blood of Christ, and are accepted in the
Beloved.
Constantly and necessarily as the laws of nature, the
guilty, unforgiven, unreconciled keep God out of their
thoughts, while they seek and enjoy their pleasure. As
the night-flowering cactus waits till midnight ere it opens
its blossom, and closes it again before the dawn, a carnal
mind, being at enmity with God, never opens into real
enjoyment until the whole thickness of the world inter-
venes as a veil to hide the face of God. "The harp,
and the viol, the tabret, and pipe, and wine, are in
their feasts ; but they regard not the work of the Lord,
neither consider the operation of his hands" (Isa, v. 12).
" My Lord delayeth his coming" (Matt. xxiv. 48).
This might supply a text for self-examination to those
who really desire to discover whether they are disciples
of Christ, or deceivers ; or, being disciples, whether they
are following the Lord fully, or sinfully conforming to
the world. Look to your joys, recall the times and cir-
MERCY AND JUDGMENT. 171
cumstances of your highest pleasure : in order to keep
the pleasure up, was it necessary to banish the thought
of God ? If the memory of the Lord Jesus, his death
and resurrection, his coming again to judge the world
and to reign in righteousness, — if that memory comes
in, does it drive away your joys as wind drives smoke
away ? Then you are either none of his, or, being his,
you are crucifying him afresh. I do not say that it is in-
consistent with a disciple's place to take hearty delight
in common worldly good ; but if it is a right joy for a
member of Christ, Christ's incoming will not destroy it,
will not diminish it. Your song is not a safe song, if by
a sudden turning to the Lord it is choked in your lips.
The fool saith in his heart, "No God;" and when he has
thus cleared the space of his own heart — cleared it as far
as his will is concerned — made it a world without a God,
— then and there he invites a miscellaneous company, and
begins to be merry : but when a knocking comes to the
door, heard above all the revelry, and a message is sent
in, " Thou fool, this night thy soul shall be required of
thee," all the gay thoughts vanish, the music is hushed,
and the heart, so lately full of mirth, becomes still and
damp as the grave. But the True One assures his own
disciples, " Your joy no man taketh from you " (John
xvi. 22). No one ; neither death, nor life, nor things
present, nor things to come. This fire, when once kin-
dled, like the lamp in the temple, will never go out.
Many waters cannot quench it.
Take it on the other side. We have already seen that
1 72 MERCY AND J UDGMENT.
a forgiven and reconciled man can afford to admit the
presence of the Lord while he sings ; and now let us see
further, that when he turns to the Lord he can afford to
sing. It is graven as with a pen of iron on the heart of
the guilty, that to approach to God is terror and pain.
This writing remains until it is blotted out in the blood
of the Lamb. You may succeed in convincing a man's
judgment that God is just, and deserves the homage of
his intelligent creatures ; you may persuade him at
certain times to come near the great white throne, and
lift up his eyes towards the Holy One ; but all the time,
if he does not know the gospel, he counts the coming a
penance, and never breathes freely till it is over. He
may periodically return with his prayer ; but he never
enjoys the coming : he rather submits to come at certain
seasons, that he may more fully enjoy other company
and other occupations.
In this text we are on the footsteps of the flock.
This man, too, is religious : he draws near to God, not
to endure the penance of periodic sadness in order to
secure a license for carnal mirth ; he draws near to God
that he may escape from his sadness, and taste for a
moment here in the body those pleasures that are at
God's right hand for evermore. Said Jesus to his dis-
ciples once, " Ye now therefore have sorrow; but I will see
you again, and your heart shall rejoice." He promises
them another visit, in order that thereby he may dispel
their grief, and fill them with joy. At another time, it
is recorded that when, after a period of absence, he re-
MERCY AND JUDGMENT. 173
turned, "Then were the disciples glad when they saw
the Lord."
Brethren, it is a real and not a rare experience, to fall
into the habit of running to the Lord for relief and joy.
Here, again, is a test whereby one might conveniently
examine himself whether he be in the faith, or, bcincr in
it, is living like his name and his place. It is a great
turning-point when, instead of dutifully turning to the
Lord in prayer, although the exercise throw a fear and
dread over your spirit, you begin to seek the Lord in
prayer, whether in season or out of season, as you seek
the well-spring when you are thirsty, whether it be the
meal hour or not, for the delight of refreshing your soul
with the living water. It is one thing to go to the Lord
dutifully, although the act is painful ; and another thing
to go to the Lord, as in compliance with an appetite,
because going makes you glad. " Unto thee, O Lord,
will I sing."
There lies a lesson here, too, regarding our singing, in
a more literal sense. It is good to have tasteful, skilful
music, in our public worship ; but something more is
needed. Singing and the psalm constitute the body of
our praise ; but the body without the soul is dead.
And the soul that gives the body life is this same sing-
ing to the Lord ; the opening of the soul in gladness to
the Lord — gladness because we have the Lord to open
to, like flowers opening to the morning sun. The out-
eoino; of the soul to the Saviour, in the act of singing
psalms, is the essence of the offering. Many touched
174 MERCY AND JUDGMENT.
the Lord that day when the burdened woman pressed
in until she reached him. The multitude thronged and
pressed him ; but only the touch of that poor woman
penetrated to his heart, and brought back healing as the
answer. Her touch had a soul in it ; whereas the press-
ing of the crowd, notwithstanding all their hosannas, was
but a body dead. Our united praise is a sweet and
precious privilege ; but let us beware lest its life ooze
out, and only a dead body be left in our hands. Under
the folds of our song, let our souls in secret go out and
up into His temple — let our souls thirst, and draw living
water from its fountain in himself. He will be delighted,
for he counts it more blessed to give than to receive.
And even our singing will be stronger and more general,
as the living soul puts vigour into the body that clothes it.
H. The psalm that he sung. It is a psalm about
''mercy and jiidgmentr — These are the two sides of the
divine character, as it is revealed by God, and appre-
hended by men. They are the two attributes which lie
over against each other, for conflict or in harmony, ac-
cording to the conditions in which they are exercised, or
the point from which they are viewed. They intimate
that God is merciful, and that God is just. On the one
hand, both these attributes are ascribed to him through-
out the Scriptures ; and on the other hand, both are
more or less clearly mirrored in the human conscience.
Most men stand too little in awe of his justice, and ob-
tain but feeble glimmers of hope in his mercy ; yet a
MERCY AND JUDGMENT.
/3
conception both of mercy and justice as attributes of
God seems innate and universal in humanity. Assuming
generally a knowledge of what these two attributes are,
I shall offer no illustration of their nature, but rather
proceed to notice how they stand related in David's
psalm. The subject of the song is not one or the other,
but both united. Their nature, as manifested to men, is
essentially determined by their union. Neither mercy
nor justice alone and apart could become the theme of
praise in the lips of men. We could not sing them
separately.
Suppose divine justice were taken by itself and pre-
sented to the creature. Beings perfect in holiness might
sing it ; but the sinful could take no part in the chorus.
The unfallen who stand round the throne may say, " I
will sing of justice: to thee, O Lord, will I sing." But
the sinful who are outcast could not rejoice in God's
justice. The devils believe in it, and tremble. Men in
the body, who have sinned, can sing of justice, only
because there is mercy to meet it still.
Some people very ignorantly wonder and complain
that their children or neighbours should be thrown into
a state of profound alarm by a conviction of sin and an
apprehension of judgment. Ah, if they had for one hour
the conception on their minds of God's justice waiting
to meet them, without a glimpse of mercy, their wonder
would be turned all the other way. They would wonder
that either themselves or others could ever have per-
mitted a day of mercy to pass unheeded, lest the next
176 MERCY AND JUDGMENT.
morning's dawn should bring a sentence, " Depart from
me."
But turn now to the other side. You think, if guilty
creatures could not sing of justice, they could gladly
sing of mercy if it should appear dissociated from justice.
No ; mercy could no m^ore constitute the theme of a
song for human beings than justice. When we sing of
mercy intelligently, we sing of it as it rests on righteous-
ness. But mercy apart from righteousness, I do not say
could not be satisfactory, for it could not even be.
Mercy that should override justice, would overthrow
mercy too. If the superstructure could and should bend
down, and draw out the foundation, itself would instantly
fall. It is because of its foundation in righteousness
that we can sing of mercy. A God that should offer
mercy to sinners, without honour to his justice, could
neither give them happiness nor heaven. A human
heart with sin uncondemned within it, would be a cage
of unclean birds ; and a heaven with sinners unrenewed
admitted, would be a cage of unclean birds too. Both
the heaven and its inhabitants would be wretched.
A song cannot be constructed out of justice or mercy
separately. Neither can they become the subjects of
praise, if they meet in mere conflict to neutralize or de-
stroy each other. It is not that God is less just because
he is also merciful, and less merciful because he has
undertaken to be just. When these two meet in the
eternal covenant, they kiss each other. Justice is greater
because mercy meets it: mercy is greater because jus-
MERC V A ND JUDGMEN T. 177
tice is satisfied and assents. Justice is made more just
because mercy keeps it company : mercy becomes more
merciful in presence of a righteousness that never bends.
They so meet as to support each other. Isaiah pro-
claimed Jehovah a just God and a Saviour: David sang
of mercy and judgment.
But this union takes place in Christ crucified. In him
the promises of God are yea and amen. Had Christ
not covenanted from the beginning, and come in the
fulness of time, the justice must have been poured out
on the same persons for whom the mercy was needed.
In that case, mercy, though it lived in God, could have
had no exercise toward the sinful. Justice would have
swept all the fallen away; and when Mercy issued forth,
she would have soared over the waters like Noah's dove,
and, finding no rest for the sole of her foot, would have
returned on weary wing to the ark again. Mercy, al-
though it went forth upon the world after justice had
done its work, would never have found an object. It
would have been as if a flood, with no ark floating on
its waters, had covered the world. After the flood, it
would have been in vain to send an ark for saving. By
that time all were dead, and the ark would come home
without a tenant.
In Christ the process is reversed. It is first the ark,
and then the flood. You have mercy to sing of first, and
judgment following. The flood devoured only those
who refused to enter the ark. You have a picture of
these two in their order in Ezekiel ix. First, the priest
(512, I'i
178 MERCY AND JUDGMENT.
with the linen ephod, to mark all who are on the Lord's
side ; and the destroyers are commanded to go after
him, and slay.
But how can mercy come first with the free offer, since
all have sinned and come under condemnation? Because
man in the person of the Redeemer has already met and
satisfied justice. The Substitute has borne our sin.
Justice is satisfied, and mercy has free course (Rom. iii.
24-26). In him mercy and justice meet. Christ is the
unspeakable gift : God is love. Christ was sacrificed for
sin : God is righteous. Now his mercy has found a way
to flow on the guilty. The design and effect of the
sacrifice of Christ is, that God may be just, and the
justifier of him who believeth on Jesus.
Brethren, we do not reach our hope by a process of
reasoning. It is by revelation ; and that, too, by the
revelation of a fact. We do not work our way to hope
by a series of laborious efforts. It is one fact, and it
may become ours in a moment. A divine Substitute
has taken our place to bear sin ; and we are invited to
enter on his right, and become God's dear children. We
escape from the curse, because Christ our Substitute
bore it in our stead. The law demands blood ; and if it
did not make and exact the demand, it would no longer
be law ; and if there were not law in the universe, God's
righteousness would be dishonoured, and his throne
overturned. The law demands blood ; but God's Israel
in every age go in beneath the blood of the Lamb, and
when the judgment comes, the destroying angel sees the
MERCY AND JUDGMENT. 179
blood of the Lamb, and passes over those who shelter
under it. We are saved, because Christ our passovcr
was sacrificed for us.
It is a song that is needed now, this song to the Lord
— a song about mercy and judgment, from the ranks of
the redeemed. For their own comfort this is needed ;
for the honour of God, and as a witness to the world.
When Moses and Israel had experienced in union the
mercy and judgment of God, — when the sea had opened
to let them through, and closed upon the pursuing
enemy, — then sang Moses and the children of Israel this
song unto the Lord : " Sing unto the Lord ; for he hath
triumphed gloriously!" If you had been there and had
asked Moses, " Have you reached the promised land, that
3^ou are so jubilant t " he would have answered, " No ;
we are in the wilderness. All its breadth lies between us
and rest. We must now begin our marchings and our
jfightings. But we are free ; we are rescued from bond-
age, and cannot be enslaved again. Therefore we praise
our Deliverer, and we praise him now. This is the time
and the place for our song." No thanks for singing
when you get to heaven. Open in gladness to the Lord
that bought you even now. When Joseph took his
brothers into his own chamber, and was reconciled to
them, there was a great weeping. It was a joy too deep
to be expressed in laughter. It burst from pent-up
hearts in a great flood of tears. It was a great and
exuberant joyfulness. From the inner chamber the
Egyptians and the house of Pharaoh, though they stood
i8o MERCY AND JUDGMENT.
ill the outer court, heard the weeping. The tears of joy
were common to Joseph and the brothers whom he for-
gave and accepted ; but doubtless their joy in being
forgiven was mingled with a tender grief for their own
past sins. Thus, too, when the redeemed now rejoice
with Christ, a vein of sadness runs through their joy, not
lessening but enhancing its happmess, because them-
selves had crucified the Lord. It is meet that the
song of redemption should be raised here, and meet
that the surrounding world should hear our song, as
Pharaoh's house heard the weeping when Joseph was
reconciled to his brothers. There is a sense, true though
subordinate, in which the disciples of the Lord now are
enabled to sing to him of mercy and judgment. They
endure affliction like other men. But faith turns the
suffering even into joy. It is the wont of their Lord to
give unto them that mourn in Zion beauty for ashes,
and the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness.
When their cup is full, they give thanks. When chasten-
ing comes, they still give thanks. They do not look on
the one dealing as their Lord's kindness, and the other
as his neglect. They count all love, and love him in
return. The rod is but love's instrument, and all works
together for good.
Once more mercy and judgment come very near each
other, and once more the redeemed weave both into the
texture of the song. But the veil still hangs over that
last meeting. Ear hath not heard yet the psalm that the
saved sing unto the Lord, after that final union of tender
MER CY AND y UDGMENT. 1 8 1
love and righteous judgment. With bated breath we
speak of it ; and yet it should not be passed altogether
in silence. "Come, ye blessed;" — behold the last gleam
of mercy, at the winding up of redemption : and hark the
judgment that sharply follows it, — " Depart from me."
There is perhaps not a sadder scene exhibited in Scrip-
ture than the parable of the virgins at its close. There
we hear only the wailing, because it is the scene outside
of the shut door that lies within our view ; but within
there is a glad song. They sing of mercy and judg-
ment when the door is shut. Unto thee, O Lord, do
they sing.
XIIL
''£iaz^^ii^ 15 I^Exb xtpatt
»
" For though I preach the gospel, I have nothing to glory of: for necessity is
laid upon me.''' — I CoRiNTHiANS ix. i6.
LTHOUGH it seems a paradox, it is neverthe-
less certainly a truth, that in the Lord's ser-
vice those work best who work under com-
pulsion. Christ himself directs .us to pray the Lord of
the harvest that he would thrust out labourers into his
harvest. In this strong-handed way have the greatest
ministers of the gospel been seized and sent out. In
the text Paul describes the constraint under which he
laboured ; and Luther, when, in similar circumstances,
friends advised him to retire from danger, replied, " Here
I stand ; I cannot otherwise do. God help me." The
peculiar force which was manifest in the ministry of those
chief apostles was due to the divinely imposed necessity
of working, which lay like a mountain over their hearts.
Not the servants only, but the Head himself was subject
to this law. In this matter Christ was made like unto
his brethren. He acted throughout his ministry under
AECESSITY IS LAID UPON ME. 183
an irresistible compulsion : "Wist yc not that I must be
about my Father's business ? " Be it that his own spon-
taneous love laid the pressure on, the pressure was not
on that account less commanding — the compulsion that
brought the Son of God from the throne of heaven to the
manger of Bethlehem and the cross of Calvary.
It is a ministry of necessity like this that Christ calls
for, that the world needs, that a revived Church supplies
to-day. We need not ministers that may or that will,
but ministers that must preach the gospel. We need
members not that may or that will, but that must live
the gospel Consider — -
I. The Work : what they do.
II. The Motive : what compels them to do it
I. The Work : what they do. — They preach the gospel.
The terms point in the first instance, I confess, to the
public ministry of the word by those who are relieved
from other labours and set apart for that special service
in the Church ; but it is as certainly applicable to every
Christian according to the measure of his gifts and op-
portunities. Among the disciples of Christ, responsibility
in this matter is diversified not in kind, but only in
degree. From the tallest tree of the forest down to the
hyssop that springeth out of the wall, vegetable life is of
one common character, and is subject to essentially the
same conditions of life and growth. In like manner, all
specimens of the spiritual life are subject to substantially
the same laws.
1 84 NECESSITY IS LAID UPON ME.
Ill the Christian Church there is no privileged order
of priesthood. The regenerated are one family. All are
in one point of view children, and in another priests.
One is our Master, and no man is lord over us. With
this liberty the Lord has made us free. But every
privilege carries a duty in its bosom. If we claim the
high privilege, we must volunteer for work. By two
short links every believer is scripturally bound to minis-
ter for the Lord. " Let him that heareth say, Come."
We have heard the word of life, and therefore we should
speak it. We have received the blessing, therefore we
should spread it. " Freely ye have received, freely give."
I confess that the first application of the text points
to those on whom the Lord has bestowed gifts, and to
whom the brethren have given leisure. If a thousand
ministers were assembled to-day in this place, and I
were called to speak to them, I would, as God might
enable me, urge them to be wise in winning souls. I
would especially endeavour to open the fountain of re-
deeming love on high, and permit it so to stream upon
their hearts, that its mighty volume might carry all their
life before it, and compel them to lay out their energies
in the service of the Lord that bought them. To them
and to myself I would preach the gospel as one that
must give an account. But as I have not such an audi-
ence,— as I have, by the special providence of God, an
assembly of private persons, I turn towards them that
side of the word that belongs to them, and press it
home with all my might on you.
NECESSITY IS LAID UPON ME. 185
And are we all bound to propagate the gospel ? Is
there no ground on which one is entitled to claim ex-
emption ? Yes, there is one. If you have not received,
you cannot be expected to give it. So, then, when some
are sent by the King to enlist soldiers for his war, they
may obtain exemption for one if they are able to report,
— " He cannot make Christ known, for he does not know
Christ." But, ah, what exemption is this i* — without
work indeed in Christ's cause, but also without Christ.
The Lord stands yet over against the treasury, and
sees what every entrant casts in. If he condescends to
accept the mite of the poor widow, the poor widow is by
that very fact bound to cast in her mite. His willingness
to accept small gifts is reason enough for giving them.
Apart from the public ministry of the Word, there is
a multitude of smaller ministrations which lie within
reach of every one, and which together produce great
effects, as many drops converged constitute the volume
of a river.
I. Without opening his lips to teach, or putting his
hand to missionary work, every one who bears Christ's
name either helps or hinders the gospel by his spirit
and his life. Thousands of opportunities are thrown
away through thoughtlessness, and a self- pleasing,
worldly habit of mind. When you are closing a bargain
or paying an account, although you lack courage and
skill to address a word of religious instruction to the
person with whom you are dealing, you may yet find
and use a precious opportunity of serving God in the
i86 NECESSITY IS LAID UPON ME.
gospel of his Son. Perhaps your correspondent is one
of those men who have been led to believe that a profes-
sion of piety is a cloak drawn over deceit. If, in his
dealings with you, he feels he has to do with a trans-
parent honesty and a brotherly tenderness, the stum-
bling-block that kept him back from the Saviour is in
a moment taken away. The course of his history and
the condition of his mind may be such that it is precisely
such an example of Christianity in common life that is
needed to snap asunder the last thread of the band in
which the Tempter has held his soul distant from the
Friend of sinners. Stand in awe as you tread the streets
and mingle with fellow-men, for at any moment you may
meet one who is trembling on a narrow edge between
"the tynin' and the winnin'." Your gentleness, or true-
ness, or brotherliness, touching his spirit where it is
chafed and sore, may become the very instrument in
God's hand of saving the man. "Walk circumspectly,
not as fools, but as wise, redeeming the time, because the
days are evil." I suppose among the surprises that a
modest, true Christian, will meet when he enters rest, this
will be none of the least, that here and there, among the
just made perfect, one and another will accost him with
gratitude as spiritual father. Lord, when saw we thee
an hungred, or athirst, or sick, and ministered unto thee.!*
Inasmuch as ye did it unto one of the least of these, ye
did it unto me.
What if a fretful or false word of mine should become
the narrow point turned in the wrong direction, which
NECESSITY IS LAID UPON ME. 187
shall meet the train of an immortal life as it comes up,
and send it off on the track that leads to the second
death ! As we thread through life's promiscuous throng
we are touching right and left immortal beings, giving
them a bias by the contact to the right or the left. Oh,
great is the influence of a life among other lives, for
good or for evil !
"Aunt," said a little girl one day as she returned from
school, " is every word of the Bible true ? " " Yes," re-
plied the lady. " But why do you ask?" "Because it
says, 'A soft answer turneth away wrath;' and to-day
Catherine was angry with me, and I gave her a soft
answer, but it did not turn her anger away. She con-
tinued angry all the same." Here was a ministering child.
" Well done, good and faithful servant : continue to
be faithful in the work, and the Master will give you re-
ward in due time." Duty is yours, results belong to
God. The soft answer dealt upon the transgressor a
stroke on the right side ; if it did not altogether turn
her to righteousness, perhaps the next may succeed ;
and in the meantime, the soft answer is its own reward,
rebounding on the speaker's bosom.
2. Another department of ministry is word and work
directly contributed to the kingdom of Christ. The
methods and opportunities are manifold and various as
the characters and circumstances of Christians. " She
hath done what she could " is the standard of measure-
ment.
The more obvious methods are, a Sabbath-school; a
i88 NECESSITY IS I A ID UPON ME.
mission district to visit families ; to carry a religious tract
into the households. In these departments a greater
number of labourers is required.
More private doors are also open. If you cannot
undertake to visit for evangelic message a close or a
stair, you may perhaps discover some family, or one
person, who is in need. You might make yourself use-
ful in a time of distress ; and your word would then, as a
still small voice in their ears, go deeper than mine or any
minister's in the public assembly. As to work for the
Lord, the rule is the same as in getting from the Lord :
the rule for both is, " Seek, and ye shall find."
But a sphere lies open to those who shrink from even
the most private walks that I have as yet enumerated.
If you cannot make up to other people, and evangelize,
as it were, on a foreign field, you may have your hands
filled with remunerative labour at home. If you are
bashful in presence of others, you may surely be bold in
dealing with yourself Here is an opportunity of doing
mission-work. The kingdom of God is within you : go
work in that vineyard. Within you the kingdom re-
quires either to be first introduced, or established and
extended. Labour here may be well laid out. We have
often ground of regret when we send missionaries to a
foreign field, that a considerable period of time is lost in
preparation, before any execution can be done. The
missionary may be employed for years in learning the
language and ways of the people ere he can begin to
preach. In the home field no such preparatory labour
NECESSITY IS LAID UPON ME. ,89
is necessary. Where should a man be at home, if not
in his own heart ? Walk into it, and search its sins. Re-
prove them in the name of the Lord. Report the lurk-
ing-places and strongholds of the King's enemies, for
you may know them well. You have been art and part
with them in all their rebellion, and when you turn
King's evidence against them, none can better reveal
their haunts and designs. Bring them forth, those that
would not have this Man to reicrn over them ; brino-
them forth and slay them before him. If you cannot
preach the gospel to other men, preach it to yourself.
Successful work there will yield a large return to the
Lord. If that field become ripe, seed from it will be
carried away on the wings of the wind to make the
desert fruitful. The multitude of thoughts within you,
when they are made subject to Christ, will go out in
legions to serve their new Master.
II. TJie Motive: what compels them to do it. — "Neces-
sity is laid upon me ; yea, woe is unto me, if I preacli
not the gospel."
It is worthy of remark here, at the outset, that the
apostle confesses frankly he was kept at his work as a
slave is by the sound of the whip behind him. Woe is
me if I preach not the gospel. He anticipated that if
he should slacken, the lash would descend. Is any one
startled at this representation, as if it savoured of bondage
and were at variance with the love and liberty of the
gospel .? Turn the subject over, and give it a second
I90 NECESSITY IS LAID UPON ME.
thought : you will see that this is God's way of keeping
his servants to their work, and that his way is very good.
Analogy will help us here. In our physical constitu-
tion, provision is made for the entrance of pain. We
smart when our flesh is wounded or a bone is broken ; we
suffer severe pain when we are in want of water or food.
These pains — or at least the machinery that produces
them — have been inserted into our constitution by the
hand of God. Behold, they are very good : they are the
stern executioners of a wise and benevolent government,
charged to watch when danger approaches us, and sharply
prompt us to ward it off. The pain of a wound is our
Maker's messenger to send us forth quickly in search of
a cure ; the pain of thirst, his messenger to send us forth
quickly in search of living water.
It is the same wisdom and mercy that compel our
spirits, by a kind of lashing which they feel, to avoid hurts
and seek earnestly that which heals. It is consonant
with God's ways to keep his creature busy with useful
work by pressing him with pain if he indolently or igno-
rantly cease. Paul preached the gospel to Jews and
Gentiles, to friends and foes, in season and out of season,
— preached night and day, by sea and on dry land, —
preached without intermission, for this among other
reasons, that when he relaxed he was scourged as with
scorpions. Woe is me if I preach not the gospel.
By the secret line fixed in the conscience, which God
in heaven holds in his own hand, many a man is com-
pelled to run errands of benevolence who otherwise would
NECESSITY IS LAID UPON ME. 19 i
sit at home in indolent ease. I knew a boy once who, when
he was doing some work for his father on the wayside near
the house, was asked for an ahiis by a passing beggar.
The boy refused ; the beggar passed, — not, however, be-
fore he had pierced the youth by a certain languid look
from a pale face and a drooping eye. The youth con-
tinued, mechanically, to handle his tool for the next half
hour, scarcely knowing what he did. Woe, woe was
coming in like a flood upon his soul, because he had not
given the beggar a penny. This woe increased and
accumulated until it became unbearable. The boy threw
his instrument on the ground, and ran off through the
fields by a shorter route, until he struck the public path
in advance of the spot where the wearied beggar was
trudging along. Coming back and meeting him, he
silently placed the penny which he possessed in the
beggar's hand, and ran home again to his work. The
woe lashed him to duty, and then left him light of heart
as the birds that sang beside him on the tree.
Ask no questions about that beggar's want or worth.
Although the penny were the same evening thrown into
the sea, or, what is worse, into the public-house, it was
the best laid-out penny the lad ever won. From pennies
so spent, fortunes spring. From such pennies come the
riches of grace and the kingdom of God.
Look to some of the particular forces which press a
human soul to diligence in the work of the Lord, — unfold
for minuter inspection some of the strains of that three or
four or five fold cord that bends the servant to his task.
192 NECESSITY IS LAID UPON ME.
1. The first and chief is that whit:h the same apostle
elsewhere expresses, — " The love of Christ constraineth
us." He went forward boldly, strongly, unweariedly in his
mission, never enticed aside by the world's smiles, and
never deterred by its frowns ; but then he could not do
otherwise. The love of Christ had warped itself round
his heart, and was drawing him on. He had no power to
resist, and no will to resist. His will was taken captive,
too, and led whithersoever the Master beckoned the way.
Paul could not help going forward through every diffi-
culty and danger to the goal of his grand career, any
more than a ship can help going forward through the
billows when its sails are full and its helm held aright.
The affections of that man's soul rose indeed from earth
to heaven, but they could not do otherwise : a pressure
was upon his heart to force them upward, as great and
commanding as the pressure that compels the waters of
the sea to rise and constitute the clouds of the sky.
2. Another power, steady and strong, that plies the
missionary and keeps him to his task, is the new appetite
of the new creature. Distinct from the power of Christ's
love, although acting in unison with it, as when two
engines yoked in one gearing together drive the same
beam round, the appetite for good, like natural hunger
and thirst, contributes its quota to the propulsion of a
Christian life. The Lord himself was borne forward in
this manner, and owned it. When he was weary at
Jacob's well ; when his disciples, knowing well his weari-
ness, tenderly desired to afford him a time of rest ; and
NECESSITY IS LAID UPON ME. 193
consequently expressed their surprise to find him toihnjr
under a burning sun, preaching out of season to a poor
despised Samaritan, he said by way of exphmation, " ]\Iy
meat is to do the will of him that sent me, and to finish
his ^work." Now this is a power of nature within the
kingdom of God, ever acting from age to age, like streams
of water descending from the heights. Whenever human
hearts are fitted into place, and exposed to it, they are
gently, sweetly, mightily impelled onward and ever on-
ward in their mission. Our Creator has not left it to our
memory and judgment and thoughtfulness to take food
in the quantities and at the times that shall be best fitted
to sustain life : he has set in our frame a natural power,
never-ceasing and self-regulating, wdiich sends the living
creature to his meals in due season, and lashes him if he
neglect. In like manner it has pleased God, in the cove-
nant of his grace, not to trust entirely to the reasoning
faculty and the memory for the due discharge of the
functions of life in the Christian community. He has
implanted in the new nature a species of appetite for
doing good, similar to bodily hunger, and hence the
greatest doers of good to their fellows have ever been the
most modestly unconscious of their own merits. Praise
pains them, because they inwardly know it is undeserved.
They feel that they deserve no thanks for what they did,
because they could not have done otherwise. If they
had refrained from doing good when a needy brother was
within their reach, a great pain would have crept over
their spirits, and gnawed like hunger at their hearts.
(512) 1 3
,94 NECESSITY IS LAID UPON ME.
Instead of claiming credit for having done it, they con-
fess that a woe, mighty and steadfast, like the rising tide,
would have overwhelmed them if they had not done it.
Faith, hope, charity; but the greatest of these is
charity. By these two, faith and hope, you get in, for
your own soul's satisfying ; but by charity you give out
to satisfy the needy from the treasure you have received
from the Lord. Among the graces of the Spirit, the out-
giver is greater than the ingetters. " It is more blessed
to give than to receive."
3. There is yet another cognate power that works in
harmony with those already named to keep the worker
busy, if his own life is hid with Christ in God — the need
of a sinning, suffering world. A brother ready to perish
lies a heavier weight than lead upon a loyal, loving heart,
and produces that haste to the rescue at which the giddy
world, ignorant of the moving power, gazes as an in-
explicable phenomenon. Ah, brethren, if the secret
machinery of the Christian life within us were well oiled
and free of rust, we should move quickly in these days ;
for the appropriate kind of power is playing on us in a
mighty volume all the day long. A world's miseries,
rushing down like a river in flood, become the specific
power which presses a Christian into the service of Christ.
All great philanthropists have been reckoned wonders
in the world. On no other conditions could a greatly
philanthropic life emerge. If the world did not stare in
astonishment at the phenomenon, the fact would prove
that the world was in such a state that great philan-
NECESSITY IS LAID UPON ME. 195
thropy was not needed to bind up its sores. Paul him-
self was a wonder in his day — Howard a wonder — Brai-
nerd a wonder. People saw the mighty movements of a
life proceeding against the forces of nature, as nature
was experienced in themselves. They knew not the
power that moved the ship against the stream. The
breath of the Spirit is unseen. If you are so placed as
not to feel it, you wonder at its effects.
In a cleft of a mountain, high above the city, where
groups of manufacturing industry are gathering, you are
led through a door in a lofty, massive wall, to a spot
where you see a slow, steady, vast, mysterious move-
ment. The sight is half the disk of a great water-wheel ;
it is the rising half You see a series of strong, heavy
beams, of great length, green and dripping, rising up at
the further extremity, although the leverage is very
great, — rising and ever rising, like a giant ever lifting his
outstretched arms. And you see, moreover, that besides
lifting up without ceasing their own vast weight, these
solemn, silent beams, are driving a wheel which imparts
motion to the machinery of a neighbouring factory. You
stand and gaze at these huge arms, ever rise, rising, till you
grow giddy; and if your imagination is lively, you are con-
scious of vivid pity for the painful toilof the mute labourers.
Your guide now removes the covering from the other
side, and the secret of this patient, steadfast toil, is re-
vealed. Opposite the rising arms are arms that fall ; for
a constant stream of water is playing on their extremities,
and the weight of this water ever flowing compels the
196 NECESSITY IS LAID UPON ME.
arms on the other side to rise. You wonder no longer
at the patient, persevering power, which these beams put
forth, ever rising, and ever impelling, as they rise, all the
machinery of the factory.
Ah! if, after gazing on the labouring life of a great
missionary, we could get a door opened into his heart,
and thereby get a glimpse of the inner life, we should
behold the mystery revealed. We should discover that
the sins and sufferings of humanity have been collected
and led on to the affections of the man, and that the
constant pressure of the volume absolutely drove his
whole being into a ceaseless round of laborious activity.
He could not help it : he could not help it any more
than the mill-wheel could cease from its revolutions
while the stream flowed on its circumference. Woe is
me if I preach not the gospel — if I do not good-news
it — if I do not bear messages of mercy to a sinning,
suffering world ! As long as the stream flows on, the
arms must rise and toil. And the stream will not soon
cease — " The poor ye have always with you." Rest 1 —
no ; this is not your rest, because it is polluted. A rest
rcmaincth for the people of God.
The life that is placed under the play of these three
kindred powers will be an active life. The love of
Christ — the appetite of the new nature — the sins and
sufferings of the world, — these three may well stir the
stiffest out of all his fastenings to the earth, and send
liim off, like flaming fire or stormy winds, on errands of
mercy at God's command, and for man's good.
XIV.
'• IV/itc/i sometime were disobedient, when once the longsufering of God waitea
in the days of Noah, while the ark was a preparing, wherein feiv, that is,
eight soids were saved by water. The like figiire ivhereiinto even baptism
doth also now save us {not the putting azuay of the filth of the flesh, but
the answer of a good conscience toward God,) by the resurrection of Jesus
Christ.'''' — I Peter iii. 20, 21.
OD'S goings were glorious of old, and they are
crlorious now. The former dispensations had
one glory, and the present dispensation has
another ; and the glory of the latter house excelleth the
glory of the former house. But all these successive
revelations were manifestations more or less distinct of
the same eternal and unchangeable holiness and love in
God. The plans of the Infinite have not changed in
these last times. They are unfolding into maturity, and
accomplishing their original design.
The histories and doctrines of the Old Testament con-
tain the same truths that are more plainly revealed in
the New. The types and their fulfilment follow each
other as bud and blossom. The Lord himself in his
198 THE TWO BAPTISMS.
ministry often lifted up the ancient promise, and joined
it to that fact of his own redemption in which it was
rcahzed. " Destroy this temple, and in three days I will
raise it up... But he spake of the temple of his body"
(John ii. 19, 21). "As Moses lifted up the serpent in the
wilderness, even so must the Son of man be lifted up"
(John iii. 14, 15). "I am that bread of life. Your fathers
did eat manna in the wilderness, and are dead" (John vi.
48, 49). The apostles, too, after the example of their
Lord, frequently presented the type and its fulfilment as
united pairs. Thus Paul writes : " Into the second taber-
nacle went the high priest alone once every year, not
without blood, which he offered for himself, and for the
errors of the people : the Holy Ghost this signifying-,
that the way into the holiest of all was not yet made
manifest, while as the first tabernacle was yet standing"
(Hcb. ix. 7, 8). And Peter, in our text, contributes
another specimen, connecting the deluge with Christian
baptism as the early bloom of promise and the later
ripened fruit.
It is questionable whether we would have had skill
enough to discover that these two facts contained essen-
tially the same revelation, if the union had not been
expressly pointed out to us in Scripture. The wild flood
that destroyed the ancient world, and the gentle waters
of baptism in Christian times, — these two at first sight
seem to have little in common. The connection is by
no means so obvious as in some other types ; but it is
not less real. In others, the water bursts from the
THE TWO BAPTISMS. 199
ground and flows along the surface, so that the thirsty
have nothing more to do than stoop and drink. Here
the well is deep, but there is water in it ; and the water,
when we reach it, is as pure and as cool as that which
flowed spontaneously. The apostle in this text has fur-
nished us with something to draw with ; and we shall
accordingly endeavour to bring up for use the living
truth that lies in the bottom. It is not our part arbi-
trarily to invent connections between Old Testament
facts and New Testament doctrines ; but when they are
given to us in the Scripture, we should set ourselves
meekly and patiently to learn what they are, and faith-
fully apply the lessons which they contain.
The subject is divided to our hand into two parts — the
type, and the lesson which it prints.
I. The salvation of Noah by water.
II. The salvation of Christians by baptism.
I. TJie salvation of Noah and his family by water. —
You are familiar with the narrative in Genesis. Peter
does not recapitulate the facts, but alludes to them as
well known. Eight souls were saved iji the ark and by
water. The English translation is literal, simple, and
certainly correct. Sometimes it is necessary to modify
a little the English words in order to reach the real im-
port of the original ; but it is not so here. In this case
we have nothing to do but keep by the words in their
simplest meaning. It is true, expositors have generally
thought it needful to take a dealing with the expression
200 THE TWO BAPTISMS.
in order to bring it into consistency with what they
thought to be the drift of the passage. ''By water'' has
been found difficult. Noah, they say, was not saved by
water : he was saved from water when it threatened to
destroy him. But the text does not say he was saved
from water : it says he was saved by or through means
of A\'ater.
This difficulty is caused by the Hmited and partial
view of the whole transaction which these expositors
have taken. Look first to the principal word in the
whole passage, — ''saved'' This is the chief; this domi-
nates all. Whatever its meaning may be found to be, it
controls the meaning of all the rest. From what were
Noah and his family saved "^ From death by drowning,
it has been generally understood to mean. Hence it
became necessary to explain away the expression, "by
water; " for certainly it was not by water that they were
saved from being drowned. In this respect, it was water
that constituted their only danger.
When standing low, we turn our eyes in that direction,
the water of the flood is the first thing we see. And
being the first, it is also the last ; for it obstructs the
view of all beyond. Come up higher, — get a loftier stand-
point, and you will command a wider prospect. As long
as you think merely of Noah being saved from death by
drowning, you miss the grand design of God in bringing
the flood upon the earth. If the purpose of the Supreme
liad been to preserve the lives of those eight, it could
have been accomplished by preventing the flood from
THE TWO BAPTISMS. 20 1
coming, better than by constructing an ark to float on
its surface. What object did the Ahnighty Ruler con-
template in those stupendous arrangements ? To pre-
serve his truth, and the earthen vessels that contained it,
not from the flood of water, but from the flood of sin.
The water flood, so far from being the source of danger,
was the instrument employed to save. God employed
one flood to wipe away another.
A deluge of ungodliness was spreading and swelling,
threatening to overwhelm and quench the last spark of
spiritual life on earth that still lingered in the family of
Noah. The gates of hell seemed about to prevail, and
were ready to blot out God's name and remembrance
from the world that he had made ; for it is in man that
his Maker will retain a memorial — in man, or not at all.
He will not engrave his name on the rocks, nor embla-
zon it in starry letters on the sky. He chooses the flesh-
tables of loving human hearts as the ground on which
his glory shall be written. This is his rest, and here
shall he dwell. If human hearts were all closed against
him, God would loathe and desert his world. But this
shall not be. The Almighty will not permit himself to
be banished from his works. He made man in his own
image, for himself ; he will maintain his hold of humanity,
until the set time come when God shall be manifest in
the flesh — when man shall be taken for ever into union
with the Godhead. God will have a seed to serve him
while sun and moon endure. For this purpose he chose
Noah and his family, as vessels to retain and transmit
202 THE TWO BAPTISMS.
the knowledge of his name. If divine power had not
then interfered, the last remnant of righteousness would
soon have been submerged under the ever-rising tide of
sin. It concerned the plans and the honour of God that
this should be prevented, and therefore Noah was saved
— saved by water ! The Lord saved Noah as he is wont
to save his own in all times, — by destroying the enemies
who were prepared to devour him. Noah was saved by
baptism — a baptism that washed away the filth of the
world, and left him standing free.
This is the Lord's way from the beginning, and will be
his way to the end. The first promise that cheered the
heart of man after his fall, was the promise of deliverance
accomplished by a destroying — by the crushing of the ser-
pent's head. Thus was Lot saved from Sodom ; and Israel
from Egypt. Lot was saved by fire, rather than from it.
If the fire had not been sent, he and his righteousness
would have been extinguished soon in the surrounding
wickedness. By terrible things in righteousness the
Lord answered his servant's prayer. He burned off the
heap of corruption that was rising up and ready to choke
the spiritual life in Lot's soul. The Hebrews, when they
were almost overtaken and overwhelmed by their
enemies, were saved by water. Had not the water
closed over the Egyptians, they would have been dragged
back into bondage.
Thus when we get a higher standing, and look in the
light of heaven afar upon the design of God, we find that
God saved Noah, not from water, but by water. He
THE TWO BAPTISMS.
203
washed off by a flood of water that mighty element of
evil that was working upward to the extinction of all
spiritual life, and all memory of God and goodness.
The salvation which God works for his own, both in
its whole and in its several parts, is a twofold operation.
It is deliverance by destruction. In the Old Testament
times, this principle of divine government was exhibited
in acts and ordinances of a more material kind. Christ
had not yet come ; and the personal ministry of the
Spirit had not yet been fully developed. The provi-
dential dispensations and religious rites in which the
principles were embodied, accorded with the infant state
of the world and the Church. In form the manifestation
was childish ; but even in form all that was childish has
been done away, and the self-same truths are set forth
in the ordinances of a more glorious ministration.
In every great work of deliverance we are called to
behold the goodness and severity of God. It was when
Israel saw the Egyptians dead upon the beach that they
sang unto the Lord this song, — " Sing unto the Lord, for
he hath triumphed gloriously : the horse and his rider
hath he thrown into the sea." The same Spirit, poured
prophetically upon Isaiah, that proclaimed **the accept-
able year of the Lord," proclaimed also, in the same
breath, '' the day of vengeance of our God." These two
go together as a pair. They cannot be separated. Since
evil has entered creation, there can be no acceptable
year without a day of vengeance. As painters throw in
a black shadow behind their letters to bring them out in
2C4 THE TWO BAPTISMS.
power, SO the day of vengeance is necessary to sustain
and reveal the year of grace. But the clearest example
of this principle lies in the prophecy that fell from the
Saviour's own lips. When the Lord in the latter day
shall sit upon the throne of the kingdom, he will say,
"Depart, ye cursed," as well as, ** Come, ye blessed,"
— nay, the " Come, ye blessed," could not be effectually
spoken unless it had the curse beside and underneath
it to lean upon. Salvation is accomplished by a de-
struction. Still, the righteous remnant are saved by a
flood.
II. TJie salvation of CJiristians by baptism is like the
saving of Noah by the waters of the flood. — We draw
near now to behold a greater sight. We contemplate
now the redemption wrought by Christ and enjoyed by
his people. We are saved by baptism ; and this salva-
tion is like the deliverance wrought of old for Noah by
means of the flood. Our present duty, then, is to in-
vestigate the great salvation in its fully-developed form,
keeping our eye meantime on the deliverance of Noah
as a type of the better thing that we now enjoy. Though
the directly revealed redemption in Christ is the greater
thing, yet a glance toward the type which contained and
concealed it in the days of old is of great importance in
directing our investigation ; as a glance at the straw and
the hollow chaff that held it is of great use to a botanist
when he investigates the nature and uses of the ripened
wheat. Thus the flood will help us to understand bap-
THE TWO BAPTISMS. 205
tism ; and baptism rightly understood will throw back
light on the obscurities of the flood.
We have already seen how the eight souls were saved
by water; our business now is to learn that we, if saved, 4
are saved in a similar way. The danger that surrounds
us is similar; similar also is the deliverance \X\2X we obtain.
I. The danger. — It is altogether a narrow and in-
adequate view that thinks of hell as the danger and
heaven as the deliverance. The danger is sin^ and the
deliverance is pardon. Sin is the seed that, if it is let
alone, will bear fruit to death eternal: to be purged from
sin, its guilt and its power, is the salvation that we need.
As it is a narrow view to think of the deluge as Noah's
danger, so it is a narrow view of our danger to think of
God's judgments on account of sin. We must get a
higher stand-point, and we shall obtain a wider view.
In God's sight the ailment of humanity is sin. Sin
entered into the world, and death by sin. Find the way
of making an end of sin, and the sting of death is in-
stantly taken away. If it were not for sin we should
have nothing to fear. We could smile at death, and at
him who hath its power, if we were free from sin.
This is the evil from which we need to be delivered.
A whole legion of devils finds room in a single human
heart. These, the multitude of your thoughts within
you, only evil, and that continually — these constitute the
flood that threatens to drown you in perdition. Another
flood must be poured out to wash this host of enemies
away. Your soul surrounded by its own sins is like
2o6 THE TWO BAPTISMS,
Noah in the midst of the old world. If they are not
destroyed by a flood, they will destroy you.
2. The deliverance. — It, too, is like Noah's. We are
^ saved by a flood. We are saved by baptism. And what
is meant by baptism }
In the first place, it is not "the putting away of the
filth of the flesh." It is not the outward act of washing
with water that can save a soul from the dangers that
surround us. It is not a corporal and carnal thing.
Although you were baptized in the Jordan, and though
an apostle were sent from heaven to administer the
ordinance, this washing of your flesh could not purify
your soul.
Not this ; but " the answer of a good conscience toward
God." It is the cleansing of the conscience from its guilt,
so that when God makes inquisition for blood, he finds
no spot or wrinkle there ; so that the conscience, when
put to the question, answers peace to the challenge of
the Judge. To help us in comprehending what is meant
by the baptism that saves, the text does two things :
first, it sets aside the material water baptism, as certainly
not the thing that saves ; and next, it bids us search
for the meaning in the analogy of Noah's flood. This
analogy leads us to conceive of some deluge that God
pours out over us, sufficient to destroy both us and our
enemies; and of some refuge by him provided, in which
we are kept safe, till our enemies are swept away. As
the waters of the flood saved Noah by destroying all the
world of the wicked that surrounded and would have
THE TWO BAPTISMS. 207
overwhelmed him ; so by this analogy we are led to
expect such an outpouring of God's anger as would
utterly consume us, — but such an ark for us to shelter
in that we shall be saved from the deluge, and set down
to enter a new state of existence in a renewed world.
But how can the wrath of God be poured out on my
sins to cleanse them away, without also casting me, the
sinner, into perdition ? Here is the solution of the
mystery. Read the text without its parenthetic clause,
" Baptism doth now save us by the resurrection of Jesus
Christ from the dead." It is by being in Christ that
we may get our sins purged away, and yet be ourselves
saved.
He stands before God to receive what is due to his
people's sins. " I have a baptism to be baptized with,
and' how am I straitened till it be accomplished." That
baptism to which he looked forward from the first of
time, and which he met on Calvary, was none other than
the wrath of God against sin, which he had in covenant
engaged to bear. " Thy fierce wrath goeth over me ;
thy terrors have cut me off. They came round about
mc daily like water ; they compassed me about to-
gether" (Ps. Ixxxviii. 16, 17). The Messiah met that
deluge, and emerged from it triumphant. From that
baptism he rose again. The salvation of believers lies
not in meeting God for themselves, when the vials of
his wrath for sin are poured out ; but in being found in
Christ, when he receives his people's due. It is the part
and privilege of a believer to be baptized into Christ, and
2o8 THE TWO BAPTISMS.
specifically to be baptized into his death (Rom. vi. 3, 5).
Our baptism is into him, and he meets the baptism for
us which would have carried us away. We have received
the baptism, when in our Substitute we have received it.
As Noah remained safe, shut up within the ark, while it-
received the surges of the deluge ; so we, in Christ our
refuge, are unhurt, while he meets and exhausts in our
stead the justice due to sin. As the inmates of the ark
might rejoice with trembling, when they heard the waves
which would have devoured them beating against the
sides of their refuge ; so a Christian, accepted in the
Beloved, rejoices with trembling, when he hears the cry,
"My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me.?" drawn
from the Redeemer by that baptism of fire, which, if it
had fallen on the sinner's defenceless head, would have
utterly consumed him.
The ark in which Noah found refuge rested on the
new world, after the deluge was over, on the seventeenth
day of the seventh month (Gen. viii. 4). This month,
named Abib, was afterwards made the first month of the
year for Israel : in it they were delivered from Egypt ;
and in it the passover was kept, on the fourteenth day.
Jesus was crucified on the morning of the fifteenth, the
day after the passover, the Friday of the week. The
next day, Saturday, the Jewish Sabbath, he lay in the
grave ; and on the following day, the seventeenth, he
rose from the dead, — precisely the day on w^hich the ark,
with its precious burden of saved souls, escaped from
the flood, and rested on the resurrection world. On that
THE TWO BAPTISMS. 209
same day Jesus escaped from the baptism that had been
poured over him, and rested on the resurrection Hfe.
But in him and his rising all the ransomed rose. " If we
be planted in the likeness of his death, we shall be also
in the likeness of his resurrection."
How minutely exact is the correspondence of the type
and its fulfilment ! It is thus that you may have seen
printers planting small brass points in the corners of
their block, to secure that the next impression should
be made exactly over the same place. Thus it became
him to fulfil all righteousness ; not a jot or tittle of that
law can pass, until all be fulfilled. The ark and the date
of its resting may be set aside now, since its promise has
been fulfilled in Christ, and since Christ has for ever
perfected the salvation of his own.
As the flood saved Noah, by destroying the wicked
that swarmed on the earth, while he escaped by being
shut within the ark ; the baptism wherewith Christ was
baptized saves Christians, by destroying sins and sinners,
so that they who are found in him in the time of visita-
tion shall step out with him upon a new earth, under a
new heaven, wherein dwelleth righteousness.
All who understand the gospel know that this is the
only way of taking away sin, so that it shall neither
condemn nor rule us. It is when all that sin deserved
has been poured out upon sin, that it can no more defile
or destroy. That flood fell on the Substitute, and all
who are found in him are safe. A bright promise spans
the heaven, assuring all who have in Christ, the Substi-
(512) 14
2IO THE TWO BAPTISMS.
tutc, been visited for sin, that no second judgment will
ever overtake them. The just God will not again enter
into judgment with any \\\\o have taken refuge in the
Son. There is now no condemnation to them that are
in Christ Jesus. It is God that justifieth : who is he that
condemneth 1 It is Christ that died ; yea rather, that is
risen again from the dead. If ye then be risen with
Christ, seek those things that are above.
Neither is this prophecy of private interpretation. It
indicates the way of the Lord ; and on the same principle
his goings are governed still. He has not forsaken the
earth. He sitteth upon the floods. He sends yet a
deluge on an errand of mercy to his children. They
fear when the fountains of the great deep break up
around and underneath them ; but through fire and
water he brings them out into a large place.
But all are his servants. He has angels at hand, other
than stormy winds and raging floods. From heaven the
Lord looked down on one whom he regarded in love
and determined to redeem. Seeing that wealth and
prosperity were swelling up all around, to entangle and
destroy, he sent a commercial crash that brought the
rich man to poverty. Stripped of all, he escaped with
his soul's life. As surely as Noah was saved by water,
this man was saved by the flood that swept what is called
his fortune away.
Nor docs the saved in every case understand the
Father's methods. They even cry out in impatience,
"AH these things are against me." They will be ad-
THE TWO BAPTISMS. 211
mitted behind the scenes one day, and see that all these
things wrought together for their good.
I have watched an insect making its way with some
earnest purpose along the highway. I have watched its
movements so long that I have become much interested
in the success of its errand. I have seen when a loaded
cart was coming up, whose wheel would have crushed
the creature in an instant. I have laid a twig across
its path, and compelled it to turn aside. Oh, how it
stormed and fretted against my interference : if it could
communicate with its kind, it would have a tale of
hardship to recount that night, of some unknown and
adverse power that stopped its progress and overturned
its plans. Conceive, now, that intelligence should be
communicated to that tiny being, and it should discover
that another being, immeasurably raised above its com-
prehension, had in compassion saved it from death !
Such will be the discoveries made in the light of
heaven of the deliverances God wrought for his people.
Oh, that will be joyful, to find out more and more of that
incomprehensible thing.
Our senses are keen to discern material danger ; if
we were threatened by a flood, we would fondly flee to
an ark provided. But sin has blunted our spirit's per-
ception of the danger of sin. Flee to the stronghold,
prisoners of hope, why will ye die ?
XV.
** So foolish zi>as I, and ignorant : I was as a beast before thee. Nevertheless
I am continually with thee: thou hast holden vie by my right hand.
Thou shalt guide me with thy cou7isel, and afterward receive me to
glory." — Psalm Ixxiii. 22-24.
HIS psalm, like Romans vii., is the autobio-
graphy of a sinner saved. It records the
progress of a pilgrim from the City of De-
struction to the City of God. Midway on his course,
the traveller has ascended a mountain, whence he looks
alternately back on Egypt and the wilderness, and for-
ward over Jordan, to the promised, provided rest. From
this self-history of a soul we cut out a page at the
crisis. This text tells about the turning-point, whether
of first conversion or subsequent revival. If we under-
stand this part aright, we shall soon be able to compre-
hend the whole ; if on the track of the pilgrim we per-
sonally march over this portion of the journey, we shall
reach in due time its happy terminus.
Giving parallel and equal attention to the exposition
and the application of the lesson, let us trace the steps
A PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 213
of the pilgrimage, five in number, that are marked on
the selected text.
I. TJie cJiaractcr and condition of this man at first,
and before he was turned to the Lord: "So foolish was
I, and ignorant : I was as a beast before thee." — There
is a remarkable heartiness and thoroughness in this
confession. It rings out clean and clear. This sound
does not issue from an instrument that is either cracked
or covered with clay. I do not know whether the first
confession of this soul was so frank or so full, — I sus-
pect it was neither. As long as the hope of pardon is
obscured, the sound of confession is muffled and hesi-
tating. Men never accurately measure the depth of the
pit they lay in, until they are out of it. It is when their
feet are set upon a rock, and their goings established
there, that they take an effectual survey of their former
state.
The born blind do not know what blindness is, until
they obtain sight. The foolish and ignorant soul can-
not fully fathom its own folly and ignorance, until the
wisdom from above has begun to shine in. Thorough
confession of sin is evidence of begun deliverance from it.
The wretched captive dare not proclaim the baseness
and tyranny of his oppressor, until he has escaped from
his hands. " All our righteousnesses," exclaimed the
penitent prophet, " are as filthy rags." But I suspect he
did not think so meanly of that robe, while he had no
other. He had got, or at least got sight of, a fairer
214 ^ PILGRIM'S PROGRESS.
covering, ere Ke caftne out so strongly in contempt of his
cast-off righteousness. Never was the thorough foulness
of the old thoroughly seen, until the whiteness of the
new revealed it.
There is a very great difference between one confes-
sion of sin and another. One makes his sins as slight as
possible ; another delights in showing their greatness. It
is a law, whose seat lies deeper than our members, that
he who expects to bear the burden himself, does all he
can to make it smaller. It is when he knows that it
will be wholly borne by the Mighty to save, that he
stands back and allows all its vastness to be seen.
^^ Foolish and ignorant!' — These are linked together by
a bond which the wise of this world can neither see nor
break. He acted the fool because he did not know the
truth, and he missed the truth because he acted the fool.
Sin, as well as righteousness, goes round in a circle. The
wicked are like the troubled . sea when it cannot rest ;
and each individual is like one specific whirlpool in the
great sea, which as it circulates, and by reason of its cir-
culation, tends continually inward and downward. Each
portion is at once cause and effect, pressing what is
before and pressed by what is behind. It cannot rest.
The foolish acting of an unreconciled man causes
spiritual ignorance ; and spiritual ignorance causes
foolish acting. There the two chase each other, and will
chase each other into the abyss, unless the Lord's hand
be stretched out to save.
'' Tgnorantr — lie did not know; did not know his
A PILGRIAPS PROGRESS.
215
soul's worth — his soul's loss ; did not know the goodness
of God, and its power to lead to repentance. This lack of
knowledge led to a foolish course. The man who carries
a treasure whose worth he does not know, gives it away
to the first sharper who tempts him with a toy. He
sells his soul for nought. Oh the vile stuff for which
immortal creatures sell themselves ! Again : the man
who does not know the loss of the soul by sin, lightly
esteems the redemption and the price at which it was
bought. He who does not know the death that sin
inflicts, makes light of the life that Jesus offers. He
who does not know God, neglects to seek his favour,
until he stumble on his throne. This foolish course of
action makes deeper the darkness of ignorance whence
it sprang. In the deepened darkness of his mind the
fool runs more greedily after his folly. He is whirled,
like water, more and more fiercely round, drawn more
and more closely in, and sinks more and more deeply
down towards the blackness of darkness for ever.
But besides the general description of his state and
character, the penitent here introduces a particular com-
parison, to make the matter more precise and clear: "/
zuas as a beast before thee!' And what does that word
mean } A life of flagrant wickedness } No. We fall
into a mistake when we say that very wicked men are
like beasts. The imputation is a libel on those creatures
of God, which continue to fulfil the part that he assigned
them. The brute creatures serve much more nearly
than man the end of their being. You do not find in
2i6 A PILGRIM'S PROGRESS.
them the abnormal excesses into which human sinners
run. Their chief characteristic is a hfe all for the pres-
ent— a life steadily devoted to the immediate satisfac-
tion of the appetites, without a thought sent up to
heaven, or sent forward into the morrow.
See the cattle browsing- on the grass. They enjoy
life. They have no hope and no fear beyond the present
moment. It is well. Such they were made ; and as
they were made, they remain. Their spirit goeth down-
ward at the end, and cannot go upward — need not go
upward during the course of their life. It is no shame to
them to be beasts ; but it is a shame for a man to be as
a beast, for he was made in God's image. The beast
never, had a soul ; and I have quenched the life of mine
— put out its light. I was like a beast in having a body
and life and appetites, and stopping short with these, as
if these were all ! They knew not a God to live for ;
and I lived without God. Being a man, I became as a
beast.
This is the soul of sin ; and this is, accordingly, the
chief ingredient in the confession when quickening has
begun. The overt acts of evil, whether small or great,
are branches springing from this hidden root. The
essence and fountain of all sin is uncrodliness, — to be all
for self, and the earth, and the present, neglecting
eternity, the soul, and the Saviour, as if they did not
exist. It is evidence of a thorough repentance, when the
confession goes to the bottom, and tears up and exhibits
openly this deepest, deadliest thing.
}
A PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 217
II. After describing his former alienation, the penitent
next proclaims Jiis preScnt nearness and peace : "Never-
theless I am continually with thee." The form of ex-
pression here indicates a sudden triumph. There is a
clear, conscious boasting in God, in place of former dis-
tance and lowness. All these things were against me ;
nevertheless, and in spite of them, my deliverance is
complete.
Who can bring back a planet world after it has burst
away from its orbit and plunged into the unlighted
infinite .'* Its going away to-day makes it go further and
faster away to-morrow. That world, once bright and
fruitful, is now dark and cold ; it feels no longer the
grasp of the sun's gravity, basks no more in the sun's
light beams. As it spins away on its devious course,
who shall dare to hope that it can be arrested and reduced
into the family of bright, warm worlds } Nevertheless,
that outcast has returned, and smiles again in the sun-
light. It is a great, unexpected, miraculous restoration.
Such is the triumphing of this once alienated and dark-
ened soul, when, by the outgoing of infinite mercy, and
the drawing of infinite love, it is placed again among the
children.
** I was as a beast ; but I am with thee." Species do
not interchange. The surest fact in all natural history is
that creatures do not pass the line that separates species
from species. But the transformations which are unknown
in the sphere of nature, are accomplished in the region
of grace. The man has become new. His soul had been
2iS A PILGRIM'S PROGRESS.
in abeyance : he had been as a beast, in relation to God.
But his original nature has beei! restored : the image of
his Maker has been re-impressed upon his being. The
enmity has been taken away, and peace established.
The soul is recalled : its quenched spark has been
kindled again. Loving, living communion, has recom-
menced between the offspring man and his Father God.
" I ivas as a beast ; but I am with thee."
Mark how the change is described by its one essential
feature. It is not written, I was ignorant, but now I
have attained the wisdom from above ; I was foolish, but
now I walk circumspectly. These, and more than these,
were included in the change ; but the only thing recorded
regarding it is, ^^ I am with tJiccr Then, as now, reconcilia-
tion was the main thing. The distinguishing character-
istic of God's people under the old covenant was, that
they were " a people near unto him." In New Testament
language, and under New Testament light, the saved are
made nigh through the blood of Christ. He is our
peace.
And when a prodigal has been thus reconciled and
admitted, it is, once near, always near. He goes no more
out. " I am contiimally with thee." Nothing is constant
except that which is under the natural laws. The help
that we can render, or the course that we can follow, is
fitful, changeful ; but the beating of our hearts is con-
stant. That process is not left depending on our memory
or zeal, but set in the machinery of nature, beyond the
reach of children, who would meddle with it at one time
A PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 219
and forget it at another. Such is the arrangement in the
kingdom of spirit for keeping the reconciled near : deep
in the being of the regenerated Hes a law that by a neces-
sity of nature gravitates toward God.
*' What time soever I awake,
I ever am with thee." (Ps. cxxxix. 18.)
Before we part from this second topic, mark again the
connection between it and the first. The one is confes-
sion of former estrangement: the other, rejoicing in pres-
ent peace. While he was distant, he did not complain
of his distance : when he began to complain of distance,
it was a symptom that he was creeping near. When he
was as a beast, he uttered no cry of horror over his
wretchedness: as long as he was as a beast he was dumb.
The confession is not, I am a beast, but, I was one. The
complaint about his earthliness and alienation from God
was the breathing of a new spirit in his breast. The
risen Lazarus groans as he shakes the cerements of the
grave from his stiffened limbs. The living cry, but the
dead are silent.
III. Consider now the cause and uianner of this great
deliverance: "Thou hast holden me by my right hand." —
On this subject observe, first, that he ascribes his deliver-
ance all to God. The confession began in the first
person, but here it suddenly changes to the second. At
the beginning it was /, but here it becomes Thoii. The
fall was his own, but the rising again was accomplished
by the power of God. I was foolish, I was ignorant, I
220 ^ PILGRIM'S PROGRESS.
was as a beast ; but thou hast holden me, and the conse-
quence is that I am and ever shall be near. The restora-
tion has no Fs in it. It is not,— I took thought, I arose,
I returned and amended ; it is not / at all, it is only
TIiou. I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from
whence cometh my help.
** Thou hast Jioldcn me." — He knows now that he was
sinking by a law : the law was sin : under the pressure
of a law in his being, his distance from God was doubling
every day. What no law could do, God did — did for his
people in the days of old, and now declares how he does
it, by sending his Son. He sent from above to take me:
he drew me out of many waters : he took me from a
horrible pit and from the miry clay.
The Spirit in the prophets gives the same account of
the transaction that this saved man inserts in his own
biography : " I have loved thee with an everlasting love ;
therefore with loving-kindness have I drawn thee." The
incarnation is the act whereby God bowed down to take
the prodigal by the hand, and lead him home. The
work was done in the days of old, but the manner in
which it is done has been revealed by Christ.
Nor is it merely the forth-putting of almighty power
to bring the distant nigh. Above, there is indeed an
everlasting arm outstretched; but below, a willing people
gladly grasp it. The power of the Spirit is exerted on
the will to make it new. " Draw me : we will run after
thee." These two sides of one transaction are successively
represented in the parables of the lost sheep and the
A PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 221
prodigal. The lost sheep corresponds to " draw me ; "
the prodigal, to " I will run after thee." These are the
two associated features which constitute the transaction.
God by his cords of love draws the man: the man, obey-
ing the impulse of a renewed nature, freely runs after
God. It is love that draws ; and love draws by a bond
that is not felt to be a bond : " Where the Spirit of the
Lord is, there is liberty."
Here the conception is indicated, in the pictorial style
of the Old Testament, by the expression, *' Thou hast
holden me by my right Jiandr The picture represents a
father leading his strayed child home. The child is not
dragged ; he is led. He has not been seized in anger ;
he has grasped the hand held out in fatherly love. The
child is looking up in the father's face, running by the
father's side, and leaning on the father's strong arm.
This is not the capture of a thief or a deserter — they are
dragged back unwilling, by force ; they are shackled to
their captors by links of locked iron. This is the return
of a child, lovingly led by his father's hand.
Prodigal children! babes lost in this wood! the Father
is out in search of his wanderers. He invites all ; will
accept any; but he carries none home unwilling. "Who-
soever will, let him come."
IV. The course tJn-ough life luhich the penitent now
expects to keep : "Thou shalt guide me with thy counsel."
— In this man's esteem salvation implies holiness. Else-
where he has linked these two together : " I have hoped
222 A PILGRIM'S PROGRESS.
for thy salvation, and done thy commandments." Still
more explicit is the expression of the same union in the
New Testament : " Ye are bought with a price, therefore
glorify God."
1. Deliverance from condemnation carries with it turn-
ing from sin. As the new-born child seeks its natural
food, the regenerated count it their meat to do the
Father's will. " Let not sin therefore reign in your
mortal bodies; for ye are not under the law, but
under grace" (Rom. vi. 12, 14). " For the grace of God
that bringeth salvation hath appeared to all men, teach-
ing us that, denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, we
should live soberly, righteously, and godly, in this present
world" (Titus ii. II, 12).
2. The rule of life for the reconciled is the Word of
God. " TJiy counsel!' " It is not in man that walketh to
direct his steps." The heir of heaven, while he sojourns
in this dark, rough world, needs and gets '* a lamp to his
feet and a light to his path." The Word of the Lord is
his light. By that light he discerns his path, and follows
it. " Thy word I have hid in my heart, that I should not
offend against thee." " O send forth thy light and thy
truth."
3. Reconciled and renewed though he be, and walking
in the light, he cannot yet be left to himself. " TJioii,
sJialt guide vie!' It is not enough that he has. been held
up and brought nigh once for all : he needs and gets the
present, permanent, personal care of the Father, at every
stage, every step of his pilgrimage. His trust is not in
A PILGRTAVS PROGRESS. 223
himself; his trust is not even in God's truth ; it is in God.
" Thou shalt guide me." Whether it be the first arresting
of the distant dead, or the continued direction of the
returned and hving, still the word is Thou, not /. It is
not even the Bible, but God by the Bible, that leads the
saved over the track of time, and into the eternal rest.
Not "Thy counsel," but, " Thou, by thy counsel ; " and
thus the Lord's own prayer, " Sanctify them through thy
truth : thy word is truth."
"Counsel:'' we all need it; we all get it; we all take it.
No human being is entirely self-contained. Autocrat is
indeed a word in our dictionaries, but the thing which
the word signifies is not in this world. It is applied to
those princes who rule without the advice of a parliament ;
but they do not rule without advice. Those who are
termed self-rulers are more swayed by counsel than other
men. None are exempt : humanity does and must take
counsel. Counsel, what and whence.'' Many blind guides
are going, within and without. Out of the heart proceed
evil thoughts, careering quick and manifold like clouds
before the wind, drawing the life after them ; and among
our fellows the least wise are ever readiest to offer their
advice and take the direction. A king of Israel once
bluntly confessed that he hated a prophet of the Lord,
because his words were not courtly flattery. He swal-
lowed sugared lies that pleased his palate, and perished
by his choice. There are some people here, both young
and old, that are kingly in their notions and ways.
Disliking the counsel that runs counter to their plea-
224 ^ PILGRIM'S PROGRESS,
surcs, they follow the counsel that pleases them, and so
perish.
Brothers ! God condescends to counsel, to advise you.
Hear, and your souls shall live.
V. The issue of all in eternity : "And afterward receive
me to glory." — We must beware lest we mistake our
province in the exposition of this head. We cannot rend
the veil and display before curious eyes the blessedness
of the saints made perfect. Eye hath not seen it ; ear
hath not heard it. Some books, written by rash hands,
and eagerly scanned by curious eyes, pretend to describe
with wonderful minuteness the condition and the occupa-
tion of heaven's inhabitants. The result is a coarse cari-
cature. Nay, those who cleave still in heart and life to
the dust cannot profitably paint the scenes and incidents
of heaven ; and those who have been in some measure
refined and sanctified in the body will certainly not try.
You cannot have in printed books these particulars of the
unseen world : for those who venture to sketch them
prove by the very fact their own unfitness ; and those
who through the Spirit have attained some measure of
fitness, know so well their own unfitness that they hold
their peace, while they contemplate the promises of God.
Nothing can be more repulsive to the refined and Chris-
tianized sense than long particular stories of what the
saints in glory say and do, — hard, coarse, cold specula-
tions, rattling against each other like dry bones, wherewith
one man, for notoriety or gain, would practise upon the
A PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 225
weakness of humanity, — the appetite for prying into the
secrets of the unseen.
This text tells not what the glory is : it tells only that
the saved will be admitted into it. It reveals not what
they will get, but where they shall be. Our part here,
accordingly, is not to strain, as though by straining
we could see through the dark portal of death, and de-
scribe the things that are at God's right hand. Our
part rather is to mark well the nature, the ground, and
the effects of a thing that lies within our reach, —
namely, the hope of glo7y that now animates the heart of
a saved man.
The key-note is maintained throughout this anthem:
from first to last it is the salvation of God. Alike in
regard to guiding through grace here and entrance into
glory yonder, it is Thon^ not /. " Thou shalt receive
me." How much of the present, personal God, is in
that religion which really supports a soul in the evil day!
" I will not fear ; for thou art with me."
The glory is a thing future and invisible ; but the hope
of it in a believer's heart is present and felt. The only
link by which we can connect ourselves with the glory
to be revealed, is present reconciliation to God through
his grace. The full form of this precious thing is written
in the New Testament, — which is " Christ in you, the
hope of glory."
It is not, I shall make my way in ; but, " Thou shalt
receive me." It does not imply any preternatural know-
ledge of heaven, but a spiritual communion with the
(512^ 15
226 A PILGRIM'S PROGRESS.
Friend of sinners, who is already there. God with us, is
in heaven God for us. " Lord, Lord, open to us ! " But
will he receive me then t That question must be an-
swered by another, — Do you receive him now? If
Christ knocks in vain at the door of your heart, you will
knock in vain at the door of his heaven. Unless the
kingdom of God be within you here, you shall not be
within the kingdom of God yonder.
Look yet for a moment, ere we close, to the last
three points, that we may mark their order and their
relations.
1. Salvation accomplished by almighty grace : "Thou
hast holden me."
2. New obedience now, according to the Word of God :
'* Thou shalt guide me with thy counsel."
3. Hope of glory afterward : " Thou shalt receive me."
In the middle is the actual holiness, — the new obedience
of the saved man, and on either side a strong one on
whom it may lean. On the one side is salvation already
accomplished ; on the other is the hope of glory yet to
come. The best, the only way of sustaining an obedient
life, is to look unto Jesus. Faith, while it fights here,
looks alternately backward and forward for support, —
backward to Christ come, forward to Christ coming.
Actual holiness in a human life cannot stand unless it
have both to lean upon. He treads steadiest who leans
at once on both as he goes up through the wilderness.
These two, the sufferings of Christ and the glory that
A PILGRIM'S PROGRESS.
227
should follow, the angels, who are servants, desire to look
into ; but the children, who are heirs, possess and enjoy.
All things are yours when ye are Christ's. The Christian
life is sustained between Christ come and Christ com-
ing,— between his sacrifice for sin and his glorious
appearing.
The same experience was otherwise conceived and ex-
pressed by the faithful of a former age. On the one side,
looking back, it is, "Thou hast holden me;" on the other
side, looking forward, it is, "Thou shalt receive me;" and
now, in the middle, it is, " I shall be guided in the right
way by thy counsel."
In this brief portion of the Word, and within the range
of one soul's experience, the two opposite extremes meet.
It is from "a beast" to "glory" at a bound; from a piece
of brutish animated flesh to an angel-flame of fire ; from
a creature whose soul has been blotted out, to a creature
who is the habitation of God through the Spirit. How
could any one in the body traverse the distance between
these two extremes } The way is short and simple.
Christ crucified reveals the mystery. Both extremes
meet in him. From the glory of the Godhead he bowed
down,— down to a depth of humiliation which we can
neither describe nor conceive ; lower than the lowest of
the lost whom he came to save. The sorrows, the sins
of his people, whatever these may be, — unnumbered, un-
measured, like the stars of heaven, — he took upon himself
and bore. Beneath all he bowed down, that on him they
might be laid. Those who have part in his death have
228 W PILGRIM'S PROGRESS.
part also in his resurrection. Those who become one
with Christ crucified remain one with Christ glorified.
/// Christ when he suffers, tvith him when he reigns.
Permit him to hold you this day, and he will receive you
on that day. Now say to him who meekly knocks,
" Come into this heart and dwell ; " — he will say to you,
when he judges the world in righteousness, " Come, ye
blessed of my Father."
XVI.
''Dim^i^If he rmmot §nbtJ'
He saved others ; himself he cannot save^ — Mark xv. 31.
AN proposes, but God disposes. The creatures,
with all their faculties, lie in the Creator's
hand, and he employs them as instruments in
the accomplishment of his design. He makes the winds
his messengers, and flaming fire his ministers. The will-
ing and unwilling are equally under control, and he
chooses now one and now another as a rod to smite an
enemy, or a shield to defend his own. He makes the
wrath of man to praise him, so far as it is permitted to
burst forth ; while the remainder of that wrath, or the
portion he does not need, he restrains. Paul, after his
enemies had done their worst, was able to write quietly
to the Philippian Christians, that the things which had
happened to him had turned out to the furtherance of the
gospel. The Lord, who had already in Paul's conversion
turned the heart of the king, had power also to turn the
fierce flood of persecution, so that, instead of destroying,
it contributed to establish the kingdom of Christ.
230 HIMSELF HE CANNOT SAVE.
God in sovereignty often selects as his instruments
those who have no desire to be subordinate to his will.
The efforts of rebels to thwart the Sovereign's plan fre-
quently become the mearis of accomplishment. Thus
the glory of God is more fully declared. This method of
the divine government is conspicuously displayed in the
history of Joseph. The envious brothers formed and exe-
cuted a plan for his ruin ; but the direct effect of their
manoeuvre was to save both Joseph and themselves. Such
bright and beautiful representations of God in history are
ever and anon thrown off as the wheels of providence
move round, and the threads of human experience are
woven into the w^eb of the world's life. If the heavens
declare the glory of God, the earth is continually giving
back an articulate echo of their testimony. Fear, and sin
not : God is everywhere. In him we live, and move, and
have our being.
Some passengers on the ship's deck may be walking
forward, and some walking aft, and some standing still ;
but all, and all alike, are borne onward to their destiny
by the breath of heaven in the sails, and according to the
will of the pilot who holds the helm in his hand. This
world in space is like a ship on the sea. Of the teeming
multitudes that crowd its surface, some intelligently and
willingly walk in the way of God's commandments, others
violently resist, and others cleave sluggishly to the dust
like clods of the earth ; but our Father is at the helm, —
he will make all subservient to his purpose. Every atom
will be compelled to take its place and contribute its own
HIMSELF HE CANNOT SA VE. 231
share to the estabhshment of his kingdom and the re-
demption of his people. The sovereignty of God is a
precious doctrine. Providence is sweet to them that
beheve : " Casting all your care upon him ; for he carcth
for you."
Nor is it only the course of history and the actions of
men that are thus overruled. The words which flow from
human lips, and the thoughts which germinate in human
hearts, are compassed and controlled by our Father's
hand. It was a glimpse of true divine light that flowed
into David's heart through the rendings it endured, when
he said of Shimei, " L,et him alone, and let him curse; for
the Lord hath bidden him." Curses that go out of a
man's lips defile the man ; but curses that come against
a man from another quarter may become the means of
purging away his own dross, and confirming his faith in
God. The thorns which within a field choke the wheat
and render it unfruitful, may outside of the field be a
safe-guard.*
In the text you find an example of this feature in the
divine administration. A truth is spoken, but it is a
truth which the speakers do not know. By this word the
railers meant to mock the pretensions of Jesus : by it the
Spirit in the Scriptures declares the glory of God in the
gospel of his Son. Like Balaam, these false prophets
intended to curse ; but their lips were overruled, and
framed to express the distinguishing feature of redemp-
tion.
* For examples of God's overruling providence, see Numbers xxiv. lo, John xi. 47-52.
232 HIMSELF HE CANKOT SAVE.
Apart from the meaning of their words, the scoffing of
these scribes was overruled by God for the accompHsh-
ment of his own purpose. By their conduct they uncon-
sciously fulfilled the prophecy of Scripture regarding the
Messiah. This reviling constituted one of the marks by '
which those who waited for redemption in Israel should
know the Redeemer when he came. " A root out of a dry
ground : no form nor comeliness — no beauty that he should
be desired : rejected and despised : they shall look on him
whom they have pierced." Not one jot of these prophecies
could fail : the Scriptures must be fulfilled. It was a neces-
sary part of the evidence whereon we in these latter days
might lean, that the Messiah when he came should in all
points correspond to the Messiah promised to the fathers.
Accordingly, while in the wise and powerful providence
of God a full accomplishment of prophecy is secured, the
enmity of those who rejected Christ is employed as a prin-
cipal means of accomplishing it. Had Israel with one
accord accepted their King, one distinguishing mark of
the Messiah would have been wanting. The chief priests
and lawyers, when they exclaimed, " Himself he cannot
save," thought they were affixing the stigma of a de-
tected impostor on Jesus of Nazareth in his dying hour ;
while by that very cry they were unconsciously sealing
the truth of his claim to be the Son of God and the
Saviour of the world. The biting scorn of these apostate
rulers is one of the marks by which the faithful recognize
their Lord. The flame of their anger against Christ
becomes a beacon-light that guides Christians safely into
HIMSELF HE CANNOT SA VE. 233
the harbour. The wound which slanderous tongues in-
flict becomes the marring whereby the faithful distinguish
their beloved one among ten thousand. Through such
suffering the Redeemer is made perfect.
Let us examine now more particularly the truth which
the revilers articulately declared in contrast with the
falsehood which they meant.
What the Jewish leaders understood and intended to
say is obvious at a glance. They see their enemy at last
in extremities. They had often plotted to take away his
life. Galled by the authority which his doctrine and
his miracles had acquired for him among the people,
they thought they could not be secure in their seat of
authority as long as Jesus of Nazareth lived. Now that
they have at last compassed the object of their desire —
now that they see him ready to expire on the cross, they
cannot contain themselves. They must give vent to their
exultation. They must triumph over their victory. " He
saved others ; himself he cannot save." When they see
him dying, they deem the sight a proof of his weakness.
They proclaim the fact in order to throw discredit on the
miracles which he had performed. They saw him suffer-
ing even unto death, — they assumed that he suffered
because he had not power to save himself: and seeing
that he could not save himself, they assumed that he
could not have saved others. They think that if he had
saved others, he would also have saved himself; and
they flourish the fact of his yielding to death as a proof
that his miracles had been impostures.
234 HIMSELF HE CANNOT SA VE.
This word may be read in two ways. The one is dark-
ness, the other light. The one is a He, the other is the
truth — the truth on which the saving of the lost depends.
The leaders read it thus : We see he does not save him-
self from death, and thence we infer that he has not
power ; and whatever appearances may be, he cannot
have saved others. The meaning which, under direction
of the Spirit, the word in the Scriptures contains for us
is, He saved others, as their covenant-substitute, and
therefore he cannot also save himself from the obligation
which he undertook as mediator. He saved others, and
therefore himself he cannot save. His life has been
pledged for the life of his people forfeited : they have
obtained their life eternal ; and therefore his life, so
pledged, cannot be saved.
The King's Son has offered himself as hostage for cer-
tain subjects that were held in captivity by a foreign
power. He has gone into their place, and they have on
the faith of this transaction been set free. Precisely be-
cause they have been set free, he cannot now escape.
He has saved others by the substitution of himself in their
stead, and therefore himself he cannot save.
In order to explain fully how Jesus, having saved
others, could not also save himself, we must refer to the
history of redemption. Bear in mind that we live under
a divine administration that has been well ordered from
the beginning. When an architect begins to lay the
foundation of a building, he has the perfect plan already
before his eye. Although it be only a man's covenant,
HIMSELF HE CANNOT SAVE. 235
it is not carried forward by fits and starts according to
the changing circumstances of the times. The design is
completed from the first, and its execution is carried for-
ward, it may be from generation to generation, all in
accordance with the first design. Much more certain
and evident it is that God, who sees the end from the
beginning, framed his plan at first, and conducts his
administration from age to age according to that plan.
The way of salvation for sinful men is not left uncertain,
to be modified by the accidents of the day. The gospel
does not take its character from passing events. It is,
indeed, a transaction between the unchangeable God and
errine man ; but it takes its character from the Source
whence it springs, and not from the objects to which it is
directed. It partakes of the immutability of its Author :
it has nothing in common with the caprice of men. It
has come from heaven to earth, not to receive, but to give
an impression. The sun's rays when they reach the
earth meet with a various reception. At one time they
are intercepted before they touch its surface by an inter-
vening subordinate orb ; at another time the earth itself
keeps out the light from that side of it whereon we stand :
at one place, even when the rays are permitted to reach
us, they stir corruption into greater energy; at another
time they paint the flowers and ripen the fruit, stimulating
life and gilding the landscape with varied beauty. But
whether they are kept at a distance or received, whether
when received they make corruption more corrupt, or
make beauty more beautiful, the sun's rays are ever the
2 :i6 HIMSELF HE CANNO T SA VE.
-J
same ; they remain true to their celestial character, and
are never changed by the changing accidents of earth.
They retain all the purity of the heaven they come from,
and contract none of the defilement of the earth they
come to.
It is thus that the covenant of grace takes character
from its Author, and not from the objects to whom it is
applied. Some receive it unto life, and some turn the
grace of God into lasciviousness ; but the grace of God
remains ever the same. The covenant has been in
heaven settled fast : it is eternal and unchangeable.
Christ is the mediator of the covenant, and in him it is
complete.
In the matter of salvation, men ever recur, by a species
of instinct, to the idea of a bargain — they come at first to
God with a price in their hand. Yea, it was indeed a
bargain, but not made with them : their redemption is
indeed the paying of a price, but it is not a price that
they can pay.
From the beginning the Son undertook to pay. The
sin of men was foreseen, and a ransom was provided.
Before any creature needed mercy, mercy was provided.
Before death entered, a way unto life was prepared.
Before the debt was incurred, a Surety had bound himself
to stand in the debtor's room. Before any captive was
shut up in prison, a ransom price was prepared to buy
him off. Before the world was made, the price of its re-
demption was fixed, and the time set when that price
should be paid.
HIMSELF HE CANNOT SA IE.
237
But man fell, and came under condemnation, before
the appointed time for paying the redemption price.
Some of the sinful were called away to their account
before Christ had shed his blood, the just for the unjust.
Debtors must go to the great white throne before the
Surety had paid their debt. And must they therefore
perish ? No. As soon as sin entered, saving began.
When first man, God's creature, sinned, the sentence
against him was not executed in full. The first hour
that they lived on earth after they had rebelled was a
salvation, — a salvation by Christ.
Fix your thought on that first hour that creatures
made in God's image lived and breathed and walked
about on his world after they had sinned. That must
have been a day of wonder among the hosts of heaven.
Those morning stars who sang in glad sympathy when
man was made, and who were wont to behold how good
were all God's works as they sped on his errands from
world to world, must have been stricken with amazement
when they saw for the first time what seemed to be an
anomaly in God's creation. Not that the occurrence of
sin could have seemed so strange to the angels who
kept their first estate ; for already they had witnessed a
rebellion near the throne. They had seen sin, indeed ;
but they had seen it followed by immediate punishment.
No sooner had the rebellion burst out, than the rebels were
punished with everlasting destruction from the presence
of the Lord. In the flame of the pit they could still read
the nVhteousness of God, as clearly as they had been
238 HIMSELF HE CANNOT SA VE.
wont to read it by the light of heaven. But now ap-
peared a sight that had never been seen before: the
guilty were spared. As the barbarians of Malta won-
dered, not that a viper came out of the fire and fastened
on Paul's hand, but that Paul did not in consequence im-
mediately fall down dead ; so when the holy angels saw
God's intelligent creatures sinning against God, it was
only what they had witnessed before — they wondered,
not that creatures sinned, but that creatures sinning were
still spared — that judgment against an evil work was not
executed speedily. There must have been then a more
intense desire than they ever experienced before to look
into the counsels of God, and learn by what means his
righteousness would be vindicated. Righteousness they
had seen in the happiness of the holy, and righteousness
they had seen in the doom of the disobedient ; but where
is righteousness now, when the sinful are permitted to
live ?
Searching into these deep things, they must in due
time have discovered that what appeared a defect was
the brightest exhibition of divine righteousness that had
yet been given to the creature. Why was our race not
doomed the day they fell } Because Christ had under-
taken to become their substitute and pay their ransom.
As yet he had not taken our nature, as yet he had not
shed his blood ; but on the faith of what the Son had
promised, a respite was afforded and a pardon offered.
There was a bargain, although we had no part in arrang-
ing its terms, or in paying the stipulated price. In the
HIMSELF HE CANNOT SAVE. 239
covenant before time began, the Son of God undertook
to give himself an offering for sin. On the ground of
this undertaking, the guilty were spared ; and now in the
fulness of time the price must be paid. " He saved
others ; himself he cannot save."
Further : in the Earliest ages of our race sinners be-
lieved, and, departing, entered the inheritance. The sac-
rifice of Abel was accepted, and Abel by a sudden,
stormy passage, entered the eternal rest. Abraham and
Isaac and Jacob sat down at the right hand of God in
the highest, and as yet no sacrifice had been offered to
take away their sin and satisfy divine justice on their
account. On the faith of the Redeemer's undertaking,
these all entered into peace before Christ was crucified.
He got up beforehand part of his inheritance; but he got
it as a part of his covenant. He obtained fruit from the
travail of his soul before his soul had travailed as an
offering for sin ; but when the set time came, the price
must be paid. Sinners and their Substitute cannot both
escape. If he decline the cup, they must drink it : if it
has not been required of them, he must answer. His
people have already entered rest, and therefore he must
die. If God should break his covenant on one side, what
ground could we have to expect that he would keep it
on the other .? If he should change, so that the penalty
should not be borne by the Substitute, how could we
trust that he would not change so as to lay it on our-
selves } " He saved others ; himself he cannot save."
" He cannot:'' this is not to Hmit the Lord. To say,
240 HIMSELF HE CANNOT SA VE.
God who cannot He, is a greater tribute to his unchanging
truth than to say, God who does not He. So, it is greater
glory to attribute to Christ that he cannot save himself,
than to attribute that he does not save himself. It is of
the nature of God that he cannot do wrong. He cannot
break a bargain. He cannot break it at that part where
Christ must suffer, and he cannot break it at that part
which secures that believers shall be saved.
If he had saved himself from humiliation and suffering,
we could not have been saved. If the Son of God had
treated the world when it fell as the priest and the Levite
treated the man who fell among thieves, — if he had looked
on us, and passed by on the other side, we should have
perished all in our sins.
A traveller in an Asiatic desert has spent his last bit
of bread and his last drop of water. He has pursued his
journey in hunger and thirst until his limbs have given
way, and he has at length lain down on the ground to
die. Already, as he looks on the hard dry sky, he sees
the vultures swooping down, as if unwilling to wait till
his breath go out. But a caravan of travellers with pro-
visions and camels comes up. Hope revives in his faint-
ing heart. They halt and look ; but as the poor man
cannot walk, they are unwilling to burden themselves,
and coldly pass on. Now he is left to all the horrors of
despair. They have saved themselves, but left him to
die.
A ship has caught fire at sea. The passengers and
crew, shut up in one extremity of the burning ship, strain
HIMSELF HE CANNOT SA VE. 241
their eyes and sweep the horizon round for sight of help.
At length, and just in time, a sail appears and bears
down upon them. But the stranger, fearing fire, does
not venture near, but puts about her helm, and soon is
out of sight. The men in the burning ship are left to
their fate. How dreadful their situation, when the selfish
ship saved itself from danger, and left them to sink !
Ah ! what heart can conceive the misery of human
kind, if the Son of God had saved himself from sufferine.
and left a fallen world to the wrath of God !
Here are two lessons, or rather, one turned in two
ways. Let this word be a two-edged sword, turning
every way to keep the gate of life — not to keep it shut,
but to keep it open. First, turn it to those who are
within, next to those who are without. How sure is the
salvation of all who put their trust in Christ! "There
is now no condemnation to them that are in Christ Jesus."
" Who is he that condemneth t it is Christ that died."
The bond that keeps these worlds suspended and
circling round their centre may break — will break one
day, when the heavens and the earth shall pass away ;
but the bond that unites Christ's people to their inherit-
ance can never be broken. The death of Christ makes
the life of Christ's people sure. His death is their life.
The same link that held him to his suffering, holds them
to life eternal. If that link could ever by any strain
have been broken, it would have been when it held the
beloved Son of the Father to his covenant of suffering
for sin. With the same power that it held the Substitute
242 HIMSELF HE CANNOT SAVE.
to the suffering, it holds the believer to life and safety.
God is righteous in taking vengeance once : he is not
unrighteous to lay the guilt on the sinner and his Sub-
stitute too. As surely as the Shepherd was smitten, so
surely shall the sheep go free.
But a lesson lies in the text for those who live without
Christ in the world, — who, occupied with other portions,
will have none of him. The text I do not say seals the
doom of any sinner in this assembly; for "now is the ac-
cepted time." " To-day, if ye will hear his voice, harden
not your hearts." Flee to the refuge. The flag that
flies from its ramparts bears yet, in glad, golden letters,
the divinely-dictated motto, "Whosoever will, let him
come." The text I do not say seals the doom of any
here ; but it certainly determines that they who are not
found in Christ at last shall be cast away.
Let me lift from this text and display before the eyes
of self-deceivers a warning, that, though a terror of the
Lord, may be blessed to persuade men, ere it be too late,
to take the Lord's side.
There are some who, when they examine themselves,
cannot think that they are Christ's. The facts of the
case are too plain to admit of deception at this point.
They are not converted : they are not new creatures in
Christ, walking with him and waiting his call : they are
not born to the Lord. But they are not in a state of
agony : they continue to enjoy a fair measure of com-
fort : they hope that something will turn out in their
favour.
HIMSELF HE CANNOT SAVE. 243
I learn in this text what will turn out, what must turn
out in the great day. When you pass from life without
any part in Christ, you are not saved according to the
covenant of grace, and God will not come out of his
covenant to save those who despised his warning all the
day of grace. When his own well-beloved was bearing
wrath for sin, when his own beloved cried, '* My God, my
God, why hast thou forsaken me .-* " so firm and sure
was the covenant for the redemption of Christ's people,
that it would not, could not yield to save Christ from
suffering what was due to sin. Oh ye who, in a life of
worldly ambition, cherish a vague hope that Christ will
in the end be tender, and not visit you with wrath, I
bid you reflect. Christ did not, Christ could not, con-
trary to the provisions of his covenant, save himself ; and
he will not, cannot ^ contrary to the provisions of his
covenant, save you.
XVII.
" The blood of Jesus Christy God^s Soji, deanseth tis from all siny
I John i. 7.
N some texts of Scripture, as in some species
of fruit, a laborious ministry is needed to cut
through the covering crust to the concealed
kernel that constitutes the children's food. No such
work is necessary here. This is a great, ripe, bursting
fruit, lying naked under your eye and close to your
hand. Scarcely any other ministry is required to-day
than to bid the guests come near and eat abundantly.
On such a subject, and at such a time, we refuse to
encumber ourselves with arguments and evidence. We
take this at once as the word of God ; and we take God
at his word therein. Itself is its own evidence ; it is seen
in its own light. There is not in all the world anything
at all like it, with which it might be confounded. Here,
in Christ crucified, God is love ; and yet God is righteous.
Mercy and truth have never found on this sinful earth
any other meeting-j:)lace. No rival, false or true, has
THE CLEANSING BLOOD. 245
ever appeared. " The blood of Jesus Christ, God's Son,
cleanseth us from all sin." That word is as unique in
the world as the sun in the sky. No impostor ever
uttered it, or aught like unto it. It comes from man's
Maker, for it fits into and fills man's deepest want.
There is no salvation in any other: none other ever gave,
promised, or even conceived, such a salvation as could
fill an empty human soul.
Three things in the text should be separately and suc-
cessively expressed and considered.
I. The Instrument.
II. The Object.
III. The Act.
I. The mstriiment, or means of cleansing : " The blood
of Jesus Christ, his Son."
I. ''The bloodr—ThQ blood is the life. When lif^
was lost, in blood life was again found : death was the
ailment, and death became the cure. As soon as sin
entered into the world, the shedding of blood began.
Blood was shed by sin, and blood was shed for sin. They
first chapter of human history reveals a twofold blood-
shedding — one bringing death, the other bringing life.
The blood of Abel has two sides, and points two oppo-
site ways : this way it points to the ailment — that way it
points to the cure. It tells of death by sin, and of life
through righteousness.
It is worthy of notice that in point of time the blood
of the lamb was shed and accepted on the altar before
246 THE CLEANSING BLOOD.
the blood of the offerer was spilt upon the ground. The
Redeemer of men is beforehand with the destroyer of
men. The remedy was prepared in heaven before the
disaster was plotted in hell. The first blood that touched
the world was the blood that takes sin away. Before
sin's first victim appeared at the judgment-seat, the
blood of the Lamb had been already there — his pardon
and his righteousness. The redemption was secured,
and displayed, and sealed, ere the first man who needed
it was called to his account.
^ From the time of Abel's offering, onward, all the sacri-
fices proclaimed a want on earth and a resource on high.
Everywhere altars were built and sacrifices slain. The
early patriarchs, the Abrahamic covenant, and the Mosaic
law alike, made the shedding of blood an atonement for
sin. The heathen, too, by their eccentric offerings, cor-
roborated the great revealed doctrine. You would not,
in quest of evidence on some great event, go first to a
maniac ; but if, after obtaining the testimony of the
wisest man and the best, you should hear a madman in
a wood singing wildly but distinctly the same story, you
would treasure the fact as an effective corroboration. It
is thus that the heathen, by their bloody sacrifices, give
evidence of a truth which themselves do not know.
God's voice, declaring his acceptance of a divine Substi-
tute for fallen man, has produced echoes that roll up to
the beginning of time and across all the breadth of the
world. The articulation is broken and confused by many
reflections from nation to nation, and from age to age, so
THE CLEANSING BLOOD. 247
that those who hear it cannot understand its meanin^r •
but when in the Bible we get the key-note—" Behold the
Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world"
we are able to reduce the wildest warblings into harmony.
All the sacrifices have come like sunbeams — more or less
distorted and dimmed in their progress — from Christ,
and all return to meet in him aofain.
2. " The blood of Jesus ^/^r/j:/."— There is only one
sacrifice that can take away sin. From this substance all
the shadows were projected. Resting on this one sacri-
fice for sin, the typical sacrifices reached upward to the
beginning of the world, and carried consolation to those
who passed away before Christ came in the flesh.
This is purely a matter of revelation ; nature does not
know it : nature only knows guilt and dreads retribution.
There could have been no substitute, unless God had in
mercy provided one; and no knowledge of a substitute
provided, unless God in his mercy had revealed it. Jesus
Christ was man ; and as our Head in covenant, he gave
himself in his people s stead. The shedding of his blood
even unto death became the life of all w^ho trust in him,
for whom he died.
But wherein consists the sufficiency of the Substitute's
sacrifice } Herein —
3. He is God's ozvn Son. — In the beginning he was
with God, and was God. He is the Father's wxll-beloved.
He is chosen in the eternal covenant for this end, that
he might give his life a ransom for many.
This is the point where faith is needed, and where our
248 THE CLEANSING BLOOD.
own speculations are of little avail. We cannot climb
up to that high heaven above us : we must throw our-
selves into the arms of this Jesus Christ who is nigh to
us, who has taken our nature that he might be within
our reach. The matter does not depend on the accuracy
of our research and the extent of our knowledge. The
essence of the whole lies in the absolute sufficiency of
the atonement made by Christ for sin. On this matter
it is permitted, it is required of us, that we cast care
away. The scripture here is applicable in full — " Cast-
ing all your care on him, for he careth for you." The
whole strength of the case hes there. He — God, our
Maker and our Judge — God, who made man in his own
image, and would not abandon him even when he fell —
God, almighty and all-wise — loved the creatures he had
made for himself; continued to love them when they had
sinned ; so loved them that he gave his own Son, — that
his own eternal, equal Son, gave himself a ransom for
their life. In the covenant between Father, Son, and
Spirit, the plan was fully laid before time began ; and
when the fulness of time had come, the Son took our
nature — became flesh and dwelt among us — shed his
blood, the blood which is the life — gave his life as a
sacrifice for sin. This is the atonement for taking sin
away, and admitting cleansed sinners into a holy heaven;
the atonement which the Son offered and the Father
accepted. That matter now is out of our hands : God
has taken it into his own. What is required of us is,
that we leave it in his hands — that we believe in God.
THE CLEANSING BLOOD. li^c)
If this satisfaction were not sufficient — if the Hfe of the
Son of God given for men's sins were not sufficient for
its object — it would be a defect in the purpose and the
work of God. But this is not only impossible, it is in-
conceivable. If we admit the thought of defect on that
side, we are for the time not thinking of the infinite and
eternal God ; we are sinking down to the conception of
an idol. Our God — the God with whom we have to do,
our Maker and Preserver, our Judge — has taken all that
into his own hands. " Jehovah-jireh — the Lord will pro-
vide:" it is out of our hands. He has given the Son: the
Son has given himself. Christ said, as he poured out his
life a ransom, "It is finished;" and the Father has re-
ceived him into glory, and committed all judgment into
his hands.
On that side, brother, let go. Make no attempt to
hold by twigs that grow on the face of the rock : let go —
let yourself fall Into Christ. " Believe on the Lord Jesus
Christ, and thou shalt be saved."
II. The object to which the blood of Christ is applied:
" Sin," our sin ; all our sin.
''From siiC — Here the one great remedy touches the
one great disease. Sin is the root of bitterness that has
sprung up and defiled God's beautiful world : the sacri-
fice of Christ is the stroke delivered against that root to
kill it, and so cleanse from its poisonous fruit the new
heaven and the new earth, where the righteous shall
dwell. Sin is that wherewith Satan destroyed man;
250 THE CLEANSING BLOOD.
the blood of Christ is that wherewith God will destroy
sin.
In this text are brought together the two greatest
things of time, — the greatest evil and the greatest good.
There the strong man and the stronger meet, with all
intelligent creation as spectators of the conflict. Behold
the battle on which our life and blessedness depend.
Behold these two, — sin^ and the blood of Christ. And
the same two meet in deadly conflict now in single
human hearts. Jesus has said, " If any man will open,
I will come in ; " and at his incoming he meets sin,
either reigning still, or dethroned, but disturbing ; but
the stronger overcomes the strong, and makes him cap-
tive.
The disease was in the world, and would have de-
stroyed it : to the lost world the Healer came. The blood
of Jesus Christ flowed upon the ground on Calvary : the
power of that life infinitely worthy, then shed, reached
upward to the beginning of time and downward to its
end, as sunbeams at noon reach the eastern and western
boundaries of the hemisphere. For the sin of the world
the Divine Healer shed his blood ; and the same life
poured out, infinite in atoning worth, streams into every
open heart, to heal the sore disease that has broken out
there. Every soul that opens to Christ becomes a sepa-
rate battle-field ; and all the lifetime from the beginning
of convictions is the battle-day. The blood of Christ,
the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world — the
life of the Life-giver devoted as an atonement for the
THE CLEANSING BLOOD. 251
dead, is ready — infinite in value and ever at hand — to
flow in and touch the exceeding bitter thing sin, and by
touching to take it away.
When you plant a flower in your garden, you are not
troubled with any doubt about the power of the sun to
send a ray into its bosom, although he must needs at the
same time pour rays into every flower over half a world ;
and this but a creature of our God, one of the works
of our Father's hand. How much more shall life from
the life of Jesus Christ, God's own Son, flow into your
heart to heal you, O thou of little faith !
^^ All slur — There is a threefold universality in the
remedy needed by man and provided by God. "The
blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all
sin ; " — first, All kinds of it ; secondly. All parts of it ;
thirdly, All degrees of it.
I. All kinds of it. — The guilt of our first representative
lying upon us, as a heritage, is one kind. Our father
was representative : he fell, and we in him. His sin was
in some real sense our sin. True, a man readily resents
this imputation, and complains. But he makes noth-
ing of his resistance. For my own part, although I
cannot explain all the difficulties that adhere to the sub-
ject, I clearly see that a man has just as much right, or
as little, to complain of injustice in that he was born poor,
or in Africa. We cannot by searching find out God. I
intend to listen to all his word, and wait on all his provi-
dence, and count that he will show himself right when
his own time comes. That kind of sin, whatever its spe-
2^2
THE CLEANSING BLOOD.
cific nature may be, is cleansed away by the blood of
Christ. Indeed it is remarkable that almost the only
glimpses that the Bible gives us of this species of the
disease are conveyed in the account of its cure. (Rom. v.)
Again: another kind is the inherent tendency to sin
that lies like a law in our members from the first, and
breaks out into activity parallel and simultaneous with
the life. It is not so easy to raise questions on this
head: men may dispute a doctrine, but cannot well deny
a fact. And here the fact is obvious and uniform. ** I
find a law in my members, that when I would do good,
evil is present with me." This kind, too, goeth out by
the blood of sprinkling.
Again: all the actual sins that emerge on the indivi-
dual life — the abundant overflow of that fountain of sin
and uncleanness which has been opened in the heart of
fallen man. To sin in this aspect, the blood, the given
life of the Divine Substitute, applies a cure. This blood
takes away sins, although they be like clouds.
2. All parts of it. — Not portions of a believer's sins are
forgiven, but all. Suppose we should divide them thus,
■ — sins of youth, and sins of fuller age. It is not that
later and more distinctly remembered sins are taken off
the conscience, while older and more dim remembrances
are left like rust spots to eat through the soul's peace.
All sins: look back by aid of memory — for the mind has
an eye behind, although the body has only one before —
look back on your life-course, and you behold the whole
line dotted thick with spots of guilt. The line stretches
THE CLEANSING BLOOD. 253
away into the dim distance, where it fades from your
view. How many He in the mist of hfe's early morn-
ing-, before memory was awake to take notice of the
facts. But these too are included in the " all." For al-
though they may be beyond your view, they are not
beyond the view of Jesus Christ, God's own Son. The
healing does not depend on how much of his disease the
patient understands, but on how much the physician
knows. Our healer is the omniscient God. He knows
all. Now, he did not give his life a ransom in order to
blot out only those sins that we can remember and place
before him. in detail : he gave his life a ransom in order
that he might purify a people unto himself, and have
them without spot or wrinkle for his company in his
kingdom. He knows all the sins, if we do not know
them all; and "the blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth us
from all sin."
Sins against God, and sins against man ; sins in secret,
and sins that are open; sins of omission, and sins of com-
mission— in whatsoever aspect you view them, in all their
multitude and variety, the sacrifice of God's Son takes
them all away. The infinite covers all the finite: the life
of God's Son avails for all that death, to take it away.
3. All degrees of it. — Some sins in their own nature,
or on account of aggravating circumstances, are more
heinous in the sight of God than others. In more senses
than one the wicked and their wickedness are like the
troubled sea. Over the expanse of human life, or a
human life, all is bitter sin ; even as over all the expanse
254 THE CLEANSING BLOOD.
of the ocean it is bitter salt water. But as the ocean is
in some parts very deep, and in others comparatively
shallow, so the varieties in depth of sin, in the world, or
in a life, are as many and as great. It is not possible to
determine by a look on the surface which are the deepest
places of either sea. The deepest may sometimes be the
stillest. But one thing is sure as to the magnitude of
the ailment : as the shallow portions of the ocean will
drown a man as certainly, if he be cast helpless on them,
as the deepest; so a soul that is left in its sin, without an
ark for refuge, will perish, whatever may be the degree of
aggravation that may have marked its guilt.
III. The act : " Cleanseth us."
While the act is one, it has several distinct aspects.
Turned towards God on high, it is justification. Turned
towards the believer himself within, it is peace of con-
science. Turned outward upon the world and the Church,
it is sanctification.
I. Upzvard \\\ God's sight, it is justification. "There is
therefore now no condemnation to them that are in Christ
Jesus." "God is faithful and just to forgive us our sins,
and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness," Absolutely
blameless and pure in God's sight is every one who is
found by faith in his Son. " Thou art my beloved Son,
in whom I am well pleased." That word is spoken to
the Redeemer himself, but it belongs also to all the
redeemed. That holy oil of the Father's approbation
which was poured out on the head of the High Priest,
THE CLEANSING BLOOD. 255
flowed down to the utmost skirts of his garments. Now,
in God's sight Christ's members partake of Christ's hoH-
ness. As the Father regards the Son, he regards all
those who in the Son beheve. Those who stand round
the throne are in God's sight all righteous ; and they
have washed their robes and made them white in the
blood of the Lamb.
Brethren, so far from being a sublime, exalted, merely
contemplative doctrine this, it is the most closely practical
of all teaching, and the most powerful on life of all
beliefs. But look unto Jesus, and take God at his word.
Count that God for Christ's sake has forgiven you, and
walk out and in at your daily occupation as dear children
of our Father in heaven. Count that the Judge has no
charge against you, because it has all been discharged by
the blood of Christ. This belief animating your soul will
make your face shine among your fellows, — will make
you happy within your own heart, obedient to God, and
beneficent to men. To have your sins all blotted out
from God's judgment-book through the blood of Christ,
is the greatest fact of human history ; and the belief of
it is the greatest motive that can be brought to bear in
behalf of goodness on a human heart.
2. Imvards, as reflected on the Christian's own con-
science, it is peace. " My peace I give unto you," said
Jesus: "not as the world giveth give I unto you." Many
costly washings superstition has tried in order to cleanse
the conscience and so obtain peace ; but all in vain. Noth-
ing but the blood of God's own Son has power to make
256 THE CLEANSING BLOOD.
peace ; for when that offering has been given and accepted,
the Judge demands no more. Nothing lies behind un-
reached. This saves to the uttermost.
Conscience is a terrible disturber when it is left un-
clean, and a mighty peacemaker when it is purged.
Conscience is a kind of resident ambassador from God
in the inner court of the soul. Our appliances cannot
satisfy the conscience, because the conscience speaks from
God, — for God. But let the appliance for cleansing the
conscience which God has himself provided, and with
which he is well pleased, be brought to the soul, at length
all strife ceases. When the blood of Christ is accepted
and applied, conscience has no more to say, for the King
eternal is satisfied.
The act of forgiving is God's act, and it is done on
high ; but wdien the soul within clearly and correctly
sees the reflection of that great light glancing down from
heaven, all its troubles subside, and there is a great calm.
It is not that the soul can make peace within itself; but
even that sea can settle down into a oreat calm when it
hears its Lord's command, " Peace, be still." There are
three experiences at this point.
(i.) Sometimes people think they see the shadow of
God's forgiveness flitting about within their own hearts,
when it is nothing else than the mists that spring from the
uneasy ground. This is peace when there is no peace.
(2.) Sometimes a darkness remains over a soul after the
blood of the Lamb has discharged its burden from the
book of God. This is fear continuing in a poor feeble
THE CLEANSING BLOOD. 257
heart after the true cause of fear has been taken away ;
as the sea sometimes continues to heave after the storm
which stirred it has changed into a calm.
(3.) Sometimes the two meet — justification in heaven
above, and peace of conscience in the beHeving man.
God is at peace with him, and he is at peace with God.
Discharge on the ground of Christ's blood is entered in
favour of this man in the sealed book of judgment — he is
safe ; but an impression, faithfully taken off that entry in
the book, has been dropped like a tiny leaflet from high
heaven, and has fallen into the bosom of the believer,
so that, assured of his pardon, he already enjoys a great
peace.
3. Outward, in the view of men, all that appears is a new
obedience. Human eyes cannot penetrate heaven to
learn whether your sins are blotted out from the book of
judgment, — cannot penetrate even into your heart to
know whether you are in secret reconciled to God through
the death of his Son ; but human eyes, excluded from
these secret things, pry all the more keenly into that
which lies within their reach, — your spirit and life in
the world. The world seizes a divine weapon that lies
at hand, — " By their fruits ye shall know them," — and
wields it with a will, to test the various professions of
the Church.
For one thing, brethren, if we be true, and truly lean-
ing on Christ, we should not very much regret this, nor
loudly complain of it. Granted that the scrutiny is some-
times carried to an excess, and in a hostile spirit, — •
(512) 17
258 THE CLEANSING BLOOD.
granted that under the power of prejudice they often
pronounce unjust judgment, — still, on the whole, it is
safer for us to be exposed to such testings. The same
Lord who permits the winter frost and wind to search our
bodily weakness, and impart bodily strength, permits a
world keen and biting like a north wind to compass
Christians about, and will make it all work together for
good. That blast which comes searching for a weak
point in your character, in order to enter and rend all
away, will be overruled by its seeking for the weakness
to remove it, and make the place strong. " The poor ye
have always with you," said the Lord to his disciples.
Why } For their good. All things in his administration
are for their sakes, for their good, — to exercise them in
love, and pity, and benevolent deeds. The jealous, un-
believing, unfair world ye have always around you, watch-
ing whom it may assail and devour. Why, all things are
for your sakes ; and this north wind, beating hard upon
the disciples' brows, will improve the health of their holi-
ness, and fit them for greater usefulness to God and to
men. "Adorn the doctrine of God our Saviour."
The design of this meditation, from first to last, has
been to magnify the mercy of God ; but every additional
glory that is seen in it magnifies the guilt and danger of
all who neglect or despise it. Has God given us such a
Saviour, and have we left him stretching out his hands to
us in vain } " How shall we escape, if we neglect so great
salvation } " God has, in infinite compassion, provided a
THE CLEANSING BLOOD. 259
life to set over against ours when it was forfeited, — a life
divine, that spreads over all finite life, and goes beyond
it to infinitude ; and poured out that life, for our life a
substitute ; and opened the door of heaven, and left it
standing all through the day of time with the invitation,
** Whosoever will, let him come: the blood of Jesus
Christ cleanseth from all sin." And when the door is
shut, what will become of the despisers who would none
of him ? In very proportion to the fulness of the
measure of mercy from God in the day of grace will
be the justness of their exclusion in the day of judgment.
XVIII.
^Itc ^acptabk fear of the forb.
To preach the acceptable year of the Lord. And he closed the book, and he
gave it again to the minister, and sat down. And the eyes of all them
that tvere in the synagogue were fastetted on him. And he began to say
unto them, This day is this scripture fulfilled in your ears.''"' — Luke iv.
19-21.
EVERYTHING about this diet of worship is full
of interest. The town, Nazareth, where he
had been brought up, where every townsman
knew the carpenter's son by sight ; the house, a syna-
gogue, the worshipping place of a Jewish congregation ;
the time, the holy Sabbath ; the preacher, the Son of
God in our nature ; the sermon, an exhibition and an
offer of Christ personally as the fulfilment of prophecy,
the desire of the nation, the Saviour of the world ; the
reception of the discourse, the fastening of all eyes on
the speaker's countenance, the opening of their ears and
hearts to his word. We draw near and listen to this
inspired sermon on an inspired text. Here is a greater
sight than Moses saw in the wilderness of Sinai, — a phe-
nomenon harder to be understood than a bush burning
THE ACCEPTABLE YEAR. 261
yet not consumed. Put off thy shoes from off thy feet,
for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground. The
speaker speaks as never man spake. He was at once the
preacher of salvation and the salvation that he preached
■ — himself the sower and himself the seed.
Passing over the other features of the incident, I select
one, somewhat difficult, indeed, but deeply interesting
and eminently suggestive, as the ground of instruction
and reproof to-day. In the prophecy, Isaiah Ixi. 1-3, the
word runs — "To proclaim the acceptable year of the
Lord, and the day of vengeance of our God ;" wdiereas
Jesus, when he read the passage in the synagogue at
Nazareth, stopped short in the middle of the sentence,
announcing the year of mercy, but not naming the day
of vengeance. Isaiah proclaims in one breath both the
goodness and severity of God, thus presenting the divine
character complete, by revealing it on both sides ; but
Jesus read the prophet's testimony regarding the good-
ness, and then closed the book, hiding the severity under
the parchment folds. He preached on one half of a
clause ; did he intend to conceal the harsher portion of
prophecy — to cover with a veil the frowns that gather on
the Father's countenance, and permit only the smiles to
shine through on men } No. He came not to destroy or
mutilate the Law or the Prophets, but to fulfil. Heaven
and earth may pass away, but not one jot or tittle of
this word, till all be fulfilled. Let us try to find out
why the omission was made, and what the omission
means.
262 THE ACCEPTABLE YEAR.
It is clear, in the first place, that Isaiah saw the justice
as well as the mercy of God, and bare witness impartially
of both. Looking, in the spirit of prophecy, down through
the a"-es to the fulness of time, he discerned Mercy ap-
preaching in the foreground, and Vengeance pressing
hard behind. He knevv^ and taught that there is a period
during which, for every man, the door of grace is open,
and a moment when that door will be shut. Such is the
gospel according to Isaiah. It is not a one-sided, crippled
thiner. It has two feet to stand on, and therefore it
stands secure. It is able both to bear the weight of
those who lean upon it, and to withstand the assaults of
those who attempt to overturn it. Isaiah's God is a just
God and a Saviour.
There is a gospel not according to Isaiah, which is at
present in some quarters softly creeping into favour. It
is commonly called the negative theology, — a theology,
as its name indicates, with a great many noes in it. It
teaches that human nature, the patient, is not so radically
diseased as the popular creed represents it to be : the
cure does not demand so much power and wisdom as we
have been taught to suppose : the sacrifice of Christ was
not required as a satisfaction to divine justice, and his
death on the cross had not so deep a meaning as is com-
monly assigned to it : the Scriptures are not all, or at
least not all equally, the inspired Word of God, and the
harsher portions of them must not be explained too
strictly : God is not a stern Judge, but a Father ; and
fathcrlincss means fondness, softness. Thus, by intro-
THE ACCEPTABLE YEAR. 263
ducing a string of negatives into the gospel, they contrive
to rub its sharpest corners off, and leave a figure more
like the dim, beautiful outline of the changeful clouds, on
whose edges you might fall without being hurt, than the
stern summits of the everlasting hills, whereon, if a man
fall, he will be broken to pieces. By taking the gospel
of the Scriptures, eliminating from it everything that
offended their taste, they have constructed a gospel which
seems beautiful in their eyes, and is smooth and agree-
able to the touch; but it is not the gospel of Christ It
is not coarse and loathsome, like the idols of the heathen
or of Rome; it is not made of gold or. silver, wood or
stone — its matter and its mould are more refined and
spiritual : nevertheless it is an idol ; the workman made
it, therefore it is not God. Granted that this gospel is
soft and seemly ; what then t it will not sustain a sinner
in the hour of his extremity. When you fall, and its
arms are opened to receive you, you will sink through
them, as through a shadow. It will not in the least
degree break the fall of the lost sinner in the day of
wrath.
Here the question recurs. Does not our text counte-
nance this system of selecting from the Scriptures what is
soft and easy, leaving out the features that bear hard on
man } Jesus, when the Book of Isaiah was presented to
him, open and marked at this place, read on till he came
to "the day of vengeance of our God," and stopped when
he came to that terror. He preached on the softer
clause, without so much as intimating that a harder lay
264 'I'lJE ACCEPTABLE YEAR.
behind. Let us look into this matter ; we must at the
same time make a minute inspection of the text, and a
general survey of the analogy of faith.
Isaiah stood afar off, and, with an eye divinely opened
for the purpose, looked down the avenue of the future,
as one might stand upon a mountain far inland and look
along a straight narrow estuary away to the distant sea,
dimly visible on the furthest horizon. At the extremity
of the vista, and distant so far in time that to him they
seemed to lie within eternity, he descried two lights, one
behind the other, and both approaching. To his country-
men below, not -elevated to his standpoint, and therefore
not enjoying his view — to his countrymen below, who
sent up at intervals the question. Watchman, what of the
night ? the watchman answered, I see two lights ap-
proaching from the ocean — from the eternity, coming
hitherward along the channel of time, the one before the
other, and both steadily advancing : the foremost is
divine mercy, and the one behind it is divine wrath.
That faithful witness faithfully proclaimed from his
watch-tower to his countrymen both facts : first, that
God's mercy is coming, mercy infinite and free, with its
blessed motto, "Whosoever will," waving in the wind,
coming foremost, nearest us ; and second, that on the
heels of mercy, vengeance was following close, swallow-
ing up in everlasting doom alike the bold adversary who
had despised mercy, and the indolent lingerer who had
permitted it to pass.
When that witness had served his generation and fallen
THE ACCEPTABLE YEAR. 265
asleep, others were successively placed on the same
watch-tower to reduplicate the same warning from age to
age. To those two facts which Isaiah proclaimed bore
all the prophets witness: mercy is coming first, and judg-
ment follows. Last of all came Christ, in the fulness of
time, and, exercising himself the office of a prophet, stood
where Isaiah had stood, repeating Isaiah's testimony.
But now the foremost of the two lights had come up. It
was abreast of the watchman. Turning to look full upon
the one that had come, he sees not the one that is com-
ing. In the lips of Jesus the testimony is not a predic-
tion of what shall be, but a proclamation of what is.
The " acceptable year of the Lord " had arrived, but the
"day of vengeance of our God " had not. The mission of
Christ was not to point to another, but to attract to him-
self. When the eyes of all that were in the synagogue
were fastened on him, he said, " This day these things
are fulfilled in your ears." He meant to present himself
to the people as the fulfilment of Isaiah's prophecy, and
therefore he could not include the day of vengeance; for
on that day that part of the prophecy was not fulfilled.
He came not to condemn the world, but to save ; while
he sat in the synagogue, and their eyes beheld him, the
day of vengeance had not come to them.
This prophecy is not of private interpretation ; it was
not exhausted that day in Nazareth. This word, like
the Lord who uttered it, is the same yesterday, to-day,
and for ever. As the same sun shines over our heads
to-day that gave light to those Nazarene citizens in their
266 THE ACCEPTABLE YEAR.
svnacToeue. the same word which fell on their ears Is
spirit and life for us to-day. The acceptable year of the
Lord has come. Christ is the way to the Father. The
door is open, and the invitation resounds through this
prison-house — "Come unto me, all ye that labour and
are heavy laden, and I will give you rest."
The purpose of the Lord that day in his discourse — ■
the purpose of the Lord in taking our nature — was to
open, to be, the way unto the Father. He did not mix
a little of the vengeance among the mercy, to make the
mercy less sweet ; he did not dash the door of vengeance
in the faces of those whom he was inv^iting to enter
through mercy into peace. This preacher did not mix
the two, and so spoil both. He gives each its own place
and time, but leaves each complete. He keeps the door
of mercy wide open — he welcomes chief sinners in ; but
when that year of acceptance has run out, the day of
vengeance will come.
Of that day, and of its sure, sudden approach, Jesus
often and clearly warned his disciples. " Then shall he
say to them on his left hand. Depart from me." No
clearer sound tlian this ever descended from heaven to
earth ; no more articulate sentence was ever uttered even
by Him who spake as never man spake. Christ preached
the day of vengeance, but he preached it always in the
future tense. That day came not before him, and came
not with him ; it came after him. "Again the high priest
asked him, and said unto him. Art thou the Christ, the
son of the Blessed } And Jesus said, I am : and ye shall
THE ACCEPTABLE YEAR. 267
see the Son of man sitting- on the right hand of power,
and coming in the clouds of heaven" (Mark xiv. 61, 62).
His coming for judgment was a Future ; his presence as
Redeemer was a Now.
The covenant endures for ever ; the door stands open
all the course of time. Every generation enjoys its own
day of grace ; but after each generation the night cometh.
Behind mercy, vengeance comes, as night sweeps round
the globe in the wake of day, and winter in the wake of
summer. Upon every person and every place the night
cometh, in which no man can work ; but every person
and every place enjoy a day before the night comes
on ; a day in which all needful work may be done —
should be done. A winter overtakes every land ; but
every land enjoys its summer and its autumn, so that all
the willing and wakeful might sow and reap. Those who
sow in spring and reap in harvest need not fear the ap-
proaching winter. He who spread out the beautiful
broad day, and kept encroaching darkness off till all its
hours had run — he who gave to the world the wider ex-
panse of summer, and kept the winter at bay till the
fruits of the earth were gathered — has set open, and kept
open, the door of mercy, and neither man nor angel can
shut it before the time. The sea cannot close and cover
the path until Israel have passed over. But when all
God's people have gotten grace, and all the world have
gotten the offer of it, the restraining hand is withdrawn.
Then vengeance comes — then the door is shut.
Here, then, is the lesson for ourselves. A space filled
26S THE ACCEPTABLE YEAR,
with mercy lies before us ; a heaven filled with love like
sunlight is shining over us. But this, like the day or the
summer, will soon come to an end. Observe how light
and darkness follow each other on the surface of the
earth. While we slept last night in the darkness, in
China there was light ; and in China at this moment the
darkness has quenched the day, while our sun is still
shining. They enjoyed their day, but are now in dark-
ness ; we enjoy the day now, but the night will overtake
us soon. Thus the time of mercy and the time of ven-
geance follow each other along the generations of men.
Behold, now is our accepted time ; behold, now is our
day of salvation. On us the light of love is shining ; but
the Sun that sheds it will soon set on us, to rise on those
that come after us. If we turn a deaf ear to the Saviour's
cry until his day is done, when the night cometh that cry
will never again be heard. Our place is like Lot's, when,
hurried by the angel's hand, he was fleeing to the moun-
tain, hearing already the flames of judgment crackling
behind him on the plain. It is not a mixture of mercy
and anger that we must meet, and pass through. The
God wath whom we have to do has not for us just as
much tenderness as will suffice to make his anorer toler-
o
able, and just as much anger as will suffice to take all
the enjoyment out of his mercy. The testimony of
Christ when he came to reveal the Father is not Yea,
yea, and Nay, nay. His mercy in Christ is free, full,
infinite, with no admixture of vengeance in it : his ven-
geance for all on whom it falls is omnipotent and endur-
THE ACCEPTABLE YEAR. 269
ing. There Is nozv no condemnation to them that are in
Christ Jesus ; and there will be tJieii no favour for them
who are not. Day is very bright, and night is very
gloomy ; life is very lively, and death is very dead.
Each is perfect according to its kind ; each stands alone
and separate from the other. Both are very sure — sure
as the day and the night. One thing at a time for every
sinner of the human race, and no commingling or con-
fusion of the two. While Jesus presents himself to us
according to the Scriptures, as he did to the congregation
at Nazareth, it is the acceptable year of the Lord ; when
he withdraws himself, or puts us out of his sight, it is the
day of vengeance. The absence of the sun is night ; no
other operation is necessary to bring it on. When a soul,
or a world, has no longer a Saviour within reach, then
and thereby the day of vengeance has fully come.
In the bold and sublime imagery of Ezekiel, the man
clothed with linen, which had a writer's ink-horn by his
side, represents our merciful High Priest and Mediator.
He enters and goes through Jerusalem first alone, the
men with the destroying weapons in their hands being
meanwhile kept standing at a distance as onlookers.
The messenger of mercy goes through the city, and sets
" a mark upon the foreheads of the men that sigh and that
cry for all the abominations that be done in the midst
thereof. And to the others he said in mine hearing, Go
ye in after him through the city, and smite : let not your
eye spare, neither have ye pity," &c. (Ezek. ix. 4, 5.)
Ah! God has said, "Vengeance is mine;" and here he
270 THE ACCEPTABLE YEAR.
has sent it to execute his purpose. As long as the linen-
clothed man was walking about Jerusalem, inviting its
multitudes and marking his own, it was the acceptable
year of the Lord ; but on his withdrawal, without hesi-
tation and without interval, the day of vengeance came
on. Christ is the sun of our firmament : in his presence
there is no darkness, in his absence there is no light.
Let no man fondly imagine that vengeance will not
come because Christ did not on this occasion proclaim it
He came to preach mercy: mercy, if he had not brought
it, would not have come. But vengeance ! — when Christ
departs, vengeance is. His coming is mercy ; his going,
wrath. "In the last day, that great day of the feast,
Jesus stood and cried, saying. If any man thirst, let him
come unto me and drink" (John vii. 37). Here is love,
and love only, preached by Jesus. But is there no ven-
geance because he did not then and there declare it }
Ah ! wherefore that cry } Why should he, who is the
well-beloved of the Father, and the heir of all things, cry
as if his heart were breaking while he published peace .''
Because he knows that they who neglect this salvation
cannot escape. It is because he knows the terrors of the
Lord that he cries so vehemently to persuade men. The
High Priest has come to the front while the armies of
Israel halt on the bank of the overflowing Jordan. The
High Priest has stepped into the water: the waters,^ as
soon as they felt his touch, have stood up like a heap
above, and fallen away to the salt sea below. As long as
he stands in the middle of the river's bed, a dry path lies
""^^
THE ACCEPTABLE YEAR. 271
open for the thousands of Israel to pass over. When he
goes away, without any proclamation or flourish of trum-
pets, the flood silently, swiftly sweeps along its bed again,
overwhelming every wretched straggler who allowed his
opportunity to pass. After him, the slayers slay. Fallen
angels, who never got a day of grace, and unbelieving
men, who have neglected it, will be left without when the
door is shut.
Those who confide in God's mercy have good cause to
cherish the remembrance of his terrible righteousness ;
for the Father's love loses half its sweetness when the
children begin to entertain the conception that he is
incapable of anger. How shall I love and praise him
for his tenderness if he has nothing else, and is nothing
else .-*
" Then sang Moses and the children of Israel this song
unto the Lord." When } When they had experienced
for themselves his redeeming love, and seen his vengeance
surging over the path that they had lately trodden. If
the fleeing Hebrews and the pursuing Egyptians had
both passed through the sea with equal safety, no hymn
of praise to God would have awakened that day the
echoes of the wilderness. Mercy would not be sweet,
would not be mercy, if vengeance did not follow in its
wake. Mercy is tasteless as the white of an ^gg until
it is salted with the fire of righteousness. With this fire
Christ our sacrifice was salted when he bore transgression
and made an end of sin.
If you were a feeble fugitive running for your life.
^
272
r//£ ACCEPTABLE YEAR.
\\
■hile an enemy — dreaded wild beast, or more dreaded
man— in close pursuit, was gaining on your steps, what
would you best like to see stretching athwart the plain
before you ? A high frowning wall ? No. What, then ?
An open door. But an open door cannot be unless there
is a frowning wall. A wall, with a door in it open : this,
and this only, is salvation to the trembling fugitive.
All things in God's covenant and in his providence
work together for good to his people. His anger appre-
hended, conspires with other forces to make me hide in
his love ; and the love in which I hide tastes more
sweetly when I hear the echoes of a vengeance that is
past, still grumbling through the distant sky. " I will
sing of mercy and of judgment," said one who well under-
stood both. But if there were no judgment, there would
be no song about mercy ; there would be no mercy to
sing about.
The time of acceptance is called a "year;" the time of
vengeance, a " day." The door may stand long open, but
it does not take a long time to shut it. Alas ! the ex-
perience of living men is all on one side ; and we are
slow to learn, where we have no experience to guide us.
We have for many years seen the door open : it has
never yet been shut in our face, and we scarcely believe,
with a real, efTective belief, that it will ever be shut. If
it shuts on us, and shuts us out, we shall then know what
shutting the door means. But the lesson will be learned
too late. To teach this difficult but necessary lesson,
and to teach it in time, the Lord for once partially with-
THE ACCEPTABLE YEAR. 273
drew the veil, and revealed a glimpse of the unseen world
in the parable of the rich man and Lazarus. When the
rich man lifted up his eyes in torment, he at last believed
in the shutting of the door — believed and trembled. I
think, if some who now carelessly count that to-morrow
shall be as this day, had been with me in some of the
steps of my experience as a minister, they would have
gotten the needful lesson burned into their minds as if
branded in by a hot iron. The eager request for more
days that I have heard, uttered in broken fragments, by
husky groans, when the breath of life was failing — more
days to remedy the error of a lost life — uttered in an
agony of earnestness, yet uttered in vain, might teach us
as effectually to occupy the present as if one should rise
from the dead to undertake the task.
" What thou doest, do quickly," said Jesus to the be-
trayer. The same word he speaks to the truster —
" quickly ! " If any one should still cling to the old fond
expectation — Jesus will not be so hard-hearted as to
shut the door ; I answer, Jesus will not be so hard-
hearted as to leave it open. He is pledged to his own
to shut them in — pledged to admit nothing that defileth.
If there were no vengeance on those who are without,
there could be no love to those who are within.
(512) 18
XIX.
aiia fmotis?
'■'■Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and
open the door, I will coine in to hitn, and will sup with him, and he
with me.'''' — Revelation iii. 20.
'ATE in the autumn, at dawn of day, you stand
on a hill top, and cast your eye as far as the
horizon along the valley that sleeps below.
A pure white mist covers the whole plain, while here and
there an eminence stands out like an island in the sea,
and the mountains, covered half way up, stretch along
the opposite side like a steep and rugged shore. All the
more conspicuous and vivid seem the insular patches of
visible ground, that the surrounding landscape is sub-
merged beneath the placid milky sea. While your eye
rests on these protruding spots, you know right well that
all the surrounding space is dry ground, and will appear
in fertility and beauty as soon as the covering mist shall
have cleared away. The land is there, although for the
present it is hidden from view, and when the sun is up it
will show itself
WHO KNOCK'S? 275
This book of Scripture is such a valley at such a time.
A veil, only partially and faintly transparent, hangs over
its main bulk ; but through the veil, even v/hile it re-
mains, some solid spots stand out distinctly visible, and
soon the sun, rising in his strength, will roll back the
covering, and display the whole landscape. God's ways
are in the deep, his footsteps are not known. His goings,
however, are glorious all the while, although we cannot
trace their windings. "What thou knowest not now,
thou shalt know hereafter." This cloud-covered valley
will one day emerge into view ; this prophecy will be-
come a history. We shall better understand the
Designer's meaning when his work is done.
There is some ground to hope that even now the be-
ginning of the end approaches. The stupendous progress
of our own generation has gone far to prepare the way
of the Lord. Events emerging now, or their successors
germinating as thoughts in human hearts, may rend the
veil of prophecy, and make bare the Almighty Arm, that
we may behold its work.
In the meantime, while we wait for the development
of the divine purpose in the fulness of time, we need not
wait in idleness. We may now plant a firm foot on those
portions of the field that are already visible. They are
raised above the mist, that we may take immediate pos-
session. You may read the signal displayed from these
heights of the Apocalypse : Occupy these visible portions
of the Word, till the Lord come to uncover the now con-
cealed mysteries of his providence and his covenant.
276 IVHO KNOCKS?
We need not wait for the end o( the dispensation, in
order to obtain sure and direct instruction and reproof
from this book of Scripture. These epistles to the
Churches are written in the vernacular of all lands and
all times. They contain messages from the Lord to the
Lord's people on the earth. Those messages are not of
any private interpretation. They are meant, like the
sunlight, to fall in every latitude, and to stream down
with quickening power on every generation of mankind.
Well may we adopt, as we read them, the expression of
the disciple's glad surprise, " Lord, now speakest thou
plainly, and speakest no proverb." In these letters to
the Churches, the types are employed for mercy, and not
for judgment. They are glasses, rather than veils.
They are fitted to display rather than to conceal the
writer's meaning. " Behold, I stand at the door, and
knock," &c. A metaphor, indeed, throughout ; but a
metaphor that helps the humblest reader to apprehend
and retain the sense.
Let us now take this transparent word of the Lord
into our hands, and apply it honestly to our hearts and
lives.
I. Who stands? — An ancient patriarch, by keeping
open heart and open house for strangers, was privileged
to entertain angels unawares. This day we may obtain
a visit of the Lord of angels, if only we will let him in.
He who stands and knocks at our door is the Mediator
of the covenant, God with us. Without him was not
any thing made that was made. From hour to hour he is
WHO KNOCKS? 277
Upholding all worlds by his hand, and writing all human
history in his book. He has received authority to rule
the world in its course, and to judge it when that course
is done. We must all appear before the judgment-seat of
Christ. He is holy ; but they are not the holy whom he
came to seek. He pitied the unholy, and gave himself
for them. He took our nature, that he might bear our
sin, and deliver us from its curse. He became the way
for the prodigal's return to the Father : to-day he keeps
the way open, and beckons the lost to hasten in.
2. How near he coi7tes. — " Behold, I stand at the door."
He has bowed his heavens and come down. We are
not left to cry in despair. Who shall ascend into heaven.-*
(that is, to bring Christ down from above). The Word —
the Word who was with God, and is God — the Word who
makes known the Father, is nigh thee, even in thy mouth.
The Good Shepherd has left the ninety and nine in the
wilderness, and followed this one wandering world. He
has come very close to us — has become bone of our bones,
and flesh of our flesh. We are not much moved by any-
thing that is far distant. Whether the visitant be coming
for judgment or mercy, we take the matter lightly, as
long as he is far away. A distant enemy does not make
us tremble, — a distant friend fails to make us glad. A
whole army of enemies, many hundred miles distant,
does not disturb our rest ; but a single thief, known to
be in the neighbourhood, may cause a sleepless night.
When your protector is distant, you tremble at danger ;
when he is near, you breathe freely again.
278
WHO KNOCKS?
How near the Son of God has come to us ! He is our
Ikother : he touches us, and we touch him, at all points.
He knows all our hopes and fears. He wept with sor-
rowing sisters beside a brother's grave, and wept over a
guilty Jerusalem. He sighed like ourselves when sor-
row lay on his heart, and was in agony when the sin of
his people lay on his soul. How closely he comes into
every thought of a human heart ! — as closely as the sun
gets into the bosom of every flower, — as closely as the
air clasps every part of the earth and sea.
3. How far off he is kept. — " At the door." The same
expression tells both how near he comes to us, and how
far we keep him away. He in great kindness comes to
the door ; we in great folly keep him at the door. The
sunlight travels far from its source in the deep of heaven,
— so far, that though it can be expressed in figures, the
imagination fails to take in the magnitude of the sum ;
but when the rays of light have travelled unimpeded so
far, and come to the door of my eye, if I shut that door
— a thin film of flesh — the light is kept out, and I remain
in darkness. Alas ! the Light that travelled so far, and
came so near — the Light that sought entrance into my
heart, and that I kept out — was the Light of life ! If I
keep out that Light, I abide in the darkness of death :
there is no salvation in any other. Here are two
wonders : one, the Saviour's condescending love ; the
other, a sinner's self-destroying blindness. One wonder
is, that the man keeps this visitor at the door; and another
wonder is, that this visitor, kept at the door, does not go
JVHO ICNOCKS? 279
away and leave the lost to perish. These two wonders
seem equal, as the sky that you look down upon in the
lake, and the sky that you look up to in the heavens,
seem to be of equal depth. That we should refuse to let
Jesus in, and that Jesus should not therefore instantly
forsake us, are two wonders deep as the heavens both.
Angels may desire, but will not be able to see, the
bottom of either abyss.
4. He knocks for entrance. — It is more than the kind-
ness of his coming and the patience of his waiting. Be-
sides coming near, he calls aloud : he does not permit
us to forget his presence.
To live without Christ in the world is not a sin of
simple neglect : it is the sin of refusing his offer, and
turning a deaf ear to his call. Although a messenger
were at the door bearing the King's commands to you,
if he stood silent there, the guilt of neglect would be
less. But silent this heavenly messenger does not stand.
He has many ways of knocking, so as to make our house
ring about our ears. By these words that I now speak,
your Lord is knocking at the door of your heart. Each
word, though spoken by a fellow-creature's lips, is a
stroke on your conscience by the dying love of Christ, to
awaken, to arouse you. When an illness comes, there is .
a knock ; and when a friend dies, there is another.
Sometimes these resound long in an empty, aching
heart. The conversion of neighbours, especially if the
awakening be sudden, and the awakened numerous, is
another kind of knocking. Every case of a careless or
28o ^y^^O KNOCKS?
profane person compelled to cry, "What must I do to be
saved?" becomes a startling sound, reverberating through
the hollow, uneasy chambers of your soul, and calling on
you to turn and live. This is a method of knocking
which the Lord has frequently and with great power em-
ployed of late years in the land. I have known secure
and long-hardened worldlings awakened as it were by
the sound of a going, when many of their neighbours
were pressing in by the strait gate. They have been
suddenly seized with a great dread lest all these should
enter the kingdom, and the door be shut behind.
If two men are working together in the field, or two
women grinding at the mill, and lightning from the sky
strike one dead in a moment, the fact is an alarm of
peculiar loudness to the one who is left. But there is a
kind of knocking which, if less loud, is more deep — a
knocking that seems to penetrate further into the con-
science of the unconverted ; and that is when of two
persons who stood close together in one workshop, or
one family, one is taken, not into sudden death by a
lightning-stroke, but into sudden life by the quickening
Spirit, and the other is left in cold, spiritual death. In
such a case the unhappy survivor — that is, the one who
remains where he was when his companion enters into
peace with God — is sometimes smitten with such an over-
\ whelming fear, that he cannot abide another day in the
City of Destruction. He, too, arises and flees for his life.
Sometimes the sense of solitude is the knock which
Jesus makes in order to gain admission. You are re-
JVHO KNOCKS? 281
moved while yet young from your country and kindred.
Among the strangers, indeed, a house is provided ; but
it is not a home. Its walls seem a prison around you.
No mother's hand places your food before you, and no
father's voice blesses it. Your heart feels empty, and in
the vacancy the slightest whisper resounds like thunder
in the hills : the still small voice of Jesus, stifled long,
and drowned by the din of a bustling world, is articu-
lately heard at last, " Behold, I stand at the door, and
knock : if any man will open, I will come in."
But there is no limit to the instruments that may be
employed in the earlier stages of conversion — in the
Spirit's ministry to convince, and awaken, and arouse.
All are the servants of our Lord. He makes the winds
his messengers, and flaming fire his ministers. The
voices of nature may be employed to articulate Christ's
call in a deaf ear. The crowing of a cock was the alarm
that awakened Peter, when he seemed to have sunk into
the sleep of death. That simple sound was Christ's
knock at Peter's heart — a knock that roused the
slumbering sentinel, and procured admission for the
outraged but still compassionate guest.
A man who has sold himself to vanity, looks over the
hedge as he hastens along the road, and sees the cattle
grazing peacefully by day, meekly returning home at
night : let the prodigal who is fleeing from his father
think that other creatures fulfil the end of their being,
while he is thwarting the gracious purpose of God and
making his own perdition sure. You look upon the fields
282 ^y^O KNOCKS?
when rain begins to fall after drought : the dry ground
gladly drinks the water in, and hastily sends a white in-
cense up to heaven — an offering of gratitude: let the sight
remind you that your heart, although it is as dry and
needy, does not thus willingly receive the Spirit from on
high. Cast your eye upward on the clouds, and see them
soaring, white and pure, on the bosom of the sky; and let
that look carry home the terrible thought — Grovelling in
the dust, impure, I am not fit to walk with God in white.
Knock ! oh, all things knock at closed human hearts
for the admission of their Lord. Death and life, angels,
principalities and powers, things present and things to
come, height and depth, and every other creature, — all
unite in one long, loud cry, " Awake, thou that sleepest,
and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light."
5. Many tilings Jiinder the hearing. — Christ's voice,
although uttered at the door, is often not heard within.
Other thoughts occupy the mind ; other sounds occupy
the ear. Either joy or grief may become a hindrance.
The song of mirth and the wail of sorrow may both, by
turns, drown the voice of that blessed Visitant who
stands without and pleads for admission. I once went
to a house in the country, to make a call of friendship.
It was a bright afternoon at the close of an early harvest.
I knocked at the door, and knocked again. No answer.
As I stood, I began to observe the reason why my call
was unheeded. A company was assembled within, and a
joyous feast was going on. I heard them laughing ; but
they did not hear me knocking. I turned and went
WHO KNOCKS? 283
away. The inmates of the house never knew that I had
been at the door. They lost nothing by that, for I had
nothing to give them ; but He who knocks at our door
to-day, has eternal hfe at his disposal, and he has come
to bestow it : if we are so taken up with our company
and our enjoyments as not to hear him, we perish in
our sins. "Hear, and your soul shall live:" the other
side of that word is, — If ye do not hear him, your soul
shall die.
6. Hear, and open. — Hearing alone is not enough.
Felix heard, did he not, in his deafest ear t The word
of God, as spoken by Paul, rang like the stroke of doom
through all the chambers of his guilty conscience : he
heard, but did not open. When he heard God's voice
without, he shut the door of his heart violently, and
warned the visitor away. Ah, you will never open to let
in an angry God ! You must hear the voice of Jesus, and
know the meaning of that blessed name, — " He saves
his people from their sins." It is not the wrath of God,
but his mercy in Christ, that melts the iron fastenings,
and lifts up these shut gates, that the King of glory
may come in. A benevolent Christian went once to a
poor widow's door bearing in his hand the help which the
poor widow sorely needed. He knocked loud and long,
and went away at last without gaining admission. Why.''
Was the widow not within } She was. Asleep, perhaps,
and therefore did not hear } No ; she was wide awake,
and heard all. She sat cowering on the floor with her
naked, hungry children, neither making answer nor
284
IVHO KNOCKS?
Opening. Why? She was in debt, and thought the
knocker an officer come to claim from her what she had
not to give. Oh, if she had known who was knocking,
and why he knocked, she would have opened eagerly,
and at the opening life would have flowed in. It is thus -
that the guilty refuse to open for Christ, even when they
hear him knocking. They have hard thoughts of him.
They think he comes to demand a righteousness which
they cannot give, and to bind them over to the judgment
because they cannot pay. God is love, and Christ is the
outcome of his forgiving love to lost men. He comes to
pardon sin, and gwQ you righteousness. He comes to
redeem you, and save you. It is when you know him
thus that you will open at his call.
"/ will come my — Ah, this is perhaps the secret reason
why so few are willing to open ! If he should offer to
free from punishment, and open heaven at last, leaving
every one to himself now, the carnal mind would more
willingly open. It is his incoming and indwelling that are
dreadful. People will open their church, or their con-
fession of faith, to let Christ in ; but into their heart
they are not willing to admit him, until they become also
willing to part with all that Christ hates. When he
comes into his temple, the buyers and sellers who pos-
sess and pollute it will be driven out before him. His
terms are, that when he comes in, vice and vanity must
depart. Agree to his terms, my brother. Answer him,
" Even so, come, Lord Jesus."
" ^f <^^0' ^^^(-i^i open, I ivill eome vl — These are the
WI/0 KNOCKS? 2S5-
terms. Although He who stands at the door has all
power in heaven and on earth, he will not force his way
in. This is clearly intimated by the very fact that he
stands, and knocks. Unless the heart is opened spon-
taneously from within, it is never opened.
It is a very solemnizing thought, that in the first in-
stance our need of Christ is the very thing that induces
us to reject Christ. It is the sinfulness of man that
makes a Saviour necessary ; but it is that same sinful-
ness that makes the Saviour whom God has sent unwel-
come. Because we are in a condition that needs a divine
Redeemer, we refuse the divine Redeemer when he comes.
It is the natural aversion of the unholy to the holy one.
When the word of God is pressed on the unclean con-
science— when this word is effectual to the extent of
compelling the man to look to his own guilt and to
God's righteousness, a great weight presses upon the
man, but it does not induce him to open and admit the
power that presses for admittance. In this respect there
is a remarkable analogy between the gates of a human
heart and the gates of a lock on a canal. Here is the
lock : it is a great empty room. At its upper end are
hucre foldinor-doors shut. Outside of these doors a great
body of water presses steadily, heavily on. Shall we
open the doors to admit the pressing water .^ Try. Here
are long strong arms attached to the gates, for the pur-
pose of moving them. Send fifty men to draw — send a
hundred : they pull at these lever arms with all their
might, but the doors do not open by a hairsbreadth.
286 IV HO KNOCKS?
Why? Are they clasped together by iron chains?
No ; in that respect they are absolutely free. In their
construction no provision is made for any kind of fasten-
ing. They simply touch each other. What holds them
then ? It is the great, lofty, deep body of water, press-
ing to get in, that keeps the gates so inexorably shut.
Empty the great chamber of the lock remains although
the gates are left loose, because the weight of the water
outside closes the gates far more effectually than clasps
of iron. Because the chamber is empty it needs to be
filled ; but because the chamber is empty it will not,
cannot open its doors to admit the pressing water.
Behold the picture of an alienated human heart —
empty and dreary for want of the indwelling of God a
Spirit — with God in Emmanuel now come nigh, and
offering, pressing to come in and possess the empty
space, to satisfy again the weary prodigal ; yet that
prodigal keeping his heart closed, although it is the Father
of his spirit who is offering to come in — nay, keeping
resolutely shut precisely because the Father of his spirit
is seeking to come in. What then? Shall this dead lock
last for ever? Will the human heart, because it is empty
and alienated, for ever keep out, as by a law of its nature,
that waiting, inviting Redeemer, whom it needs and yet
dreads ? No ; many hearts are opening and admitting
Christ. And we observe that although gre^xt forces come
into play — man resisting on the one side, and his Saviour
pressing on the other — we observe that when the door is
opened at last, the process is a soft and gentle movement
jr//0 KNOCK'S? 287
The kingdom of God, when it comes at length, comcth
not with observation. It is not the thunder and the
earthquake, but the still small voice.
How is the door of the lock at length opened ? Not
by any vast mechanical pressure that overcomes the
pressure of the water. In the secret depths of that hollow
chamber, through channels skilfully and for a purpose
constructed there from the first, the water is gradually
admitted. The water which the closed door kept out
springs up within and fills up by degrees the emptiness.
The water which while outside pressed the door shut,
now that it is inside leaves the door free to open ; and
oh, how easy it is to open these two-leaved gates, when
the water behind them and within is as high as the water
before them and without !
In a similar way is the closed heart opened to Christ.
The love of Christ, seeking its way like water, oozes
in through secret openings, — gradually more and more
makes its way within ; and when the heart is well filled
with Christ inside, it no longer refuses to open for Christ.
It is, after all, Christ that opens his own way in ; and
yet the man opens. When the Saviour has sent in much
sense of his compassion to swell up within the once
empty soul, the force of resistance gives way. The pres-
ence of Christ saying, " Open to me," no longer locks the
door. To that presence now the door gently opens ;
because in secret the soul has already been tasting that
the Lord is gracious.
XX.
IVe that are in this tabernacle do groan, being burdened: not for that we
would be ujtclothed, but clothed upon, that 7nortality might be swallowed
up of life.'" — 2 Corinthians v. 4.
T is through the gospel that life and immortality
have been brought to light. Beyond the
range of revelation these subjects lie in the
deepest darkness. A feeble, fluttering guess, was all that
unaided men could ever reach regarding a life beyond
the grave. Some dim, indefinite consciousness of a
higher destiny, may tremble in the immortal spirit ; but
in the absence of a light from heaven, there is no distinct
vision, no sustaining hope. A jar may be charged with
electric fire, and capable, in certain circumstances, of giv-
ing forth light and heat ; yet if it remain isolated, all is
dull and dark, and silent. You cannot distinguish that
charged, susceptible vessel, from another of similar shape
and size that is not so charged. When a certain sharp
point is brought near the susceptible vessel, sparks of
living light are emitted ; whereas, though the same sharp
THE TWO TABERNACLES, 289
point is brought near the other vessel, all will remain
dark and dead as before. Thus there is in a human
spirit a susceptibility and a capacity which lies dormant,
indeed, as long as man is left to himself, but which leaps
into life as soon as the word of God is pointed to the
heart. The love of Christ kindles in a human breast the
blessed hope of immortality ; but it is only in a human
breast that even the love of Christ could generate such 3
flame. We are low ; but even in our depths we possess
a constitution that is capable of being elevated ; and the
gospel of grace contains and exerts the power which pre-
vails to quicken the dead, and reconcile the alienated.
The fallen have no hope in themselves ; but even to the
fallen the gospel brings glad tidings of great joy.
In the preaching of Christ and his apostles the world
is represented as a wilderness, and human-kind as pil-
grims passing through it. No other book than the Bible
treats men thus. It has courage and faithfulness to tell
us the truth. If you surrender yourself to its guidance,
you must walk as a stranger and pilgrim on the earth ;
you must repeat over again Israel's wandering from the
Egypt of this world to the rest that lies beyond the
swellings of Jordan.
This is one reason why worldly minds dislike the
Bible. It is like death and the grave to them, because
it brings them alongside of eternity, and keeps them
there. The Unseen converses wath them through the
pages of that book, and compels them to feel that the
veil which separates them from the judgment-seat is as
19
290 THE TWO TABERNACLES.
thin as the leaves on which the letters lie. This is not
a pleasant position for one who is unforgiven, unrecon-
ciled. The fool says in his heart, *' No God." Those who
are not at peace with God are not at home in the Bible.
Let us examine the text word by word, that we may
ascertain its meaning, and submit our hearts to its power.
" Tabernacle " is a frail, temporary dwelling, generally of
cloth, which men make for shelter by night, when they
expect to be so short a time in the place that it is not
worth while to erect a more substantial edifice. The
Hebrews in the wilderness dwelt in tents, shifting their
encampment from day to day. Travellers and soldiers
use them still. A few posts, a few cords, and a few
pieces of cloth constitute the dwelling. It is easily set
up, and easily taken down again.
The body is frequently compared to a tent. It is very
beautiful, but very frail. Here we come abreast of an
unfathomable mystery. Seeing it is made so perfect,
why is it made so feeble } All the skill of all the world
could not make even a tolerable imitation of its mechan-
ism ; and yet the prick of a pin will turn it into dust.
It is as glorious as the starry sky, and yet as fading as a
summer flower. Perhaps the power and providence of
God are more vividly displayed in the human body as
it has been constituted, than they would have been by
structures less liable to injury and decay. An infant in
a dark and dangerous path dare not stir from his father's
side ; whereas a robust youth may select his own route,
and return at his own time. Our Father in heaven
THE TWO TABERNACLES. 291
knows that it is difficult to keep his children close to
himself as matters stand. I suppose it would have been
still more difficult if the child had been intrusted with
greater power. The age of the antediluvians seems to
have encouraged them in their rebellion. Humanity in
its first stage, enjoying a larger liberty, showed itself a
wild beast ; in the second stage it was held more shortly
by the head. In Him we live, and move, and have our
being. The tendency to rebellion must be persistent
and strong, when a creature so feeble attempts to cast
the Creator's cords away.
On the other hand, when the spirit of a dear child has
through Christ been attained, the frailty of the truster
makes the trust more sweet. His strength is made per-
fect in our weakness.
Perhaps we may also throw out the suggestion, that
though the mere frailty of one habitation would not
prove to its inmate that a more solid mansion was pre-
pared for his use, yet if we know that the abiding home
is ready, the shaking of the temporary tabernacle under
which we are getting shelter to-day will contribute to
remind us of another rest, and quicken our desire for an
abundant entrance on its blessedness.
'^This tabernacle." — The house in which we now dwell
is not our only dwelling-place. In the context a compari-
son is expressly instituted between two successive resi-
dences. The design of the Spirit in this word is to pre-
serve us from bestowing all our regard on this tabernacle
while another is more worthy. "We that are in this
292 THE TWO TABERNACLES.
tabernacle do groan:" — the conception which answers. to
this intimation as an echo to a sound is, there are some
not in this tabernacle, but in another, and groaning is
not their occupation to-day. We occupy this tabernacle
to-day ; but to-morrow we may own a more princely
mansion. Nor does the Scripture spread out before us
an indefinite series of changes. To them that are in
Christ Jesus, after one change all will be fixed for ever.
Those who go in by the gate into the City of God shall
go no more out. When the earthly house of this taber-
nacle is dissolved, we have a building of God, an house
not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. " Blessed
are the home-sick, for they shall get home." Sweet
home !
" Burdened^ — There may be some who, for a time,
could scarcely recognize this as a description of their own
condition. The young, healthy, and prosperous, are com-
paratively free from the pressure of a heavy load. Their
hearts for a time are as light as their limbs. They trip
along life as if they were chasing butterflies in a flowery
meadow. To a certain extent, and for a certain period,
this is not the creature's sin, but the Creator's kind ap-
pointment. The cares of age laid on the heart of a child
would crush his spirit, and render him incapable of ful-
filling his task when he should come of age. In mercy
to men, a certain brightness is permitted to hover on the
horizon during the early morning of life's day; for if the
blossom did not open, the fruit would never swell : but
even in childhood some weights begin to press, and when
THE TWO TABERNACLES. 293
youth has passed, they constitute a great and perpetual
burden, which will not drop off till the burden and its
bearer drop together into the grave. The cares of house
and children, of business and company, of friendships and
enmities, increase and multiply until the beams of the
tabernacle are creaking prematurely under the accumu-
lated weight.
These burdens are useful. They may be inventoried
among the "all things" that work together for good.
They are the weary who can truly long for rest, or truly
enjoy it when it comes. The sorrows of earth will en-
hance the joys of heaven. Not that human sufferings in
any measure or degree can purchase a right to reward in
the great day ; but if an abundant entrance is secured
through faith in Christ, the rugged rocks and scorching
sand of the desert will make the glassy, golden streets
of the New Jerusalem, feel more smooth beneath the
pilgrim's feet.
In one sense the heaviest part of the burden which we
bear in this tabernacle is our own sin. Here, however,
the apostle, I think, is not speaking of guilt still defiling
the conscience. Sin, as to its curse and doom, has for
these pilgrims been wholly taken away. Indeed, while
sin is not forgiven, the sinful, as a general rule, are not
much burdened by its weight. It is when sin is forgiven
that the sinner most bitterly complains of his sin.
Strange, yet divinely true, it is when Christ has taken, or
is taking sin away, that the Christian feels it lying heavy
on his heart. The conscience, now tender, is greatly
294 ^-^^ ^^^ TABERNACLES.
disturbed by its defiling presence, although its con-
demnation has been entirely removed. "The body of
this death," even though its spirit is cast out, constitutes
for Christ's redeemed the weightiest portion of the burden
under which they groan.
" We groan!' — A groan is nature's outlet for grief In
some kinds of disease, to forbid a groan would sensibly
add to the patient's suffering. It indicates also a desire
for relief Its double meaning is, I suffer, and would
fain be free.
This desire does not by itself constitute a mark of
grace. It belongs to nature, and is often experienced m
great strength where there is no spiritual light or life.
The discontented make many changes in order to escape
from suffering ; but the suffering follows them into every
sphere. A master may dismiss his servant against whom
his anger was stirred, but he has not thereby been deliv-
ered from the disturber of his peace. His own irritable
temper remains, a tenant on a long lease, defying all his
impotent processes of ejection. Mere groans are not
sure marks of grace. Some are weary of this world who
are by no means ready for the next.
''Not that zve would be ttnclothedr — Mark this. To be
unclothed means to put off this tabernacle. It means to
die, and return to corruption in the grave. Even Paul,
after he had attained triumphant faith and blessed hope,
shrinks from the dissolution of the body. Even this man,
who knew right well that a crown of righteousness was
ready for his head, starts at the cold image of Death, and
THE TWO TABERNACLES.
295
distinctly intimates that the prospect is unpleasant: " But
we have no wish for the unclothing." I like this ; this is
good for me. I learn here that positive love of closing with
the King of Terrors is not a necessary mark of Christ's re-
deemed people. Some of them at some period may have
been brought into such a state of mind, but this is not a
characteristic which every believer must always possess.
I love this warm life. I shrink from death. And
therein I think I do not sin. God is not displeased with
me for loving that which he has bestowed. If by faith
in his Son, and through the ministry of his Spirit, he
make me willing to give it up when he recalls it, enough:
"Thy people shall be willing in the day of thy power."
But this warm clothing which he has wrapped round my
life — he does not expect that I should at this moment
wish it away.
Christians love life for many reasons. They love it,
first of all, not as Christians, but as sentient beings.
They love it in common with those who know not Christ,
but who see the sunlight, and feel the balmy air, and
tread the flowery ground. They love it in common
not only with their fellow-men, but in common with
the brutes that perish. They love life in common
with the cattle that browse on the meadows, and
the birds that warble in the trees, and the insects that
flutter in the sunbeam. But Christians love life with a
deeper, more intelligent love than other creatures, be-
cause the gifts which are in their own nature sweet, are
sweeter when they are received from a Father's hand.
296 THE riVO TABERNACLES.
It is a mistake to suppose that the worldly enjoy
their portion here, and that the disciples of Christ per-
mit their religion to imbitter all the sweets of earth,
postponing the prospect of enjoyment until they pass
through the gates of the grave into a future and distant
heaven. This is a mischievous error. Those who hope
in Christ for the world to come, enjoy the world that
now is better because of that hope. The society of
friends, the shelter of home, the sleep of night, the dawn
of morning, the daily bread, the draught of cool water in
the noon-day toil, — all these good things are sweeter to
the man who has a better portion behind them than they
are to the man who has nothing else.
The disciples of Jesus enjoy this life, moreover, as a
field of useful labour. Work may be done here which
cannot be done beyond the boundary of the present life.
They who are bought with a price delight to serve the
Lord who bought them ; and this is the place where the
work of the kingdom must be done.
^' But dotJicd tipony — This disciple fully comprehends
and clearly expresses what he likes and what he does
not like in connection with living and dying. He is w^ell
aware, indeed, that the " unclothing" comes between him
and the blessed immortality. He is willing to meet the
necessity of putting off " this mortal coil." for the sake of
the glory that shall follow ; but he frankly confesses that
the act of putting off is not agreeable. He does not
refuse that process of stripping, but he tells us plainly
that he does not like it. He not only submits to it — he
THE TWO TABERNACLES. 297
bounds forward to meet it joyfully ; but the cause of
this buoyancy is a love, not of the fire and water of the
passage, but of the large place to which the passage leads.
" That mortality might be sivallozved up of life!' — The
dead seem to be swallowed up when they are laid in the
grave, or dropped over the ship's side into the sea.
Earth and sea must yet give up their dead ; but in the
first instance, and for a time, they swallow, they devour
their victims.
Now, as the dead are swallowed up by the sea when
they sink in it, death itself will one day be swallowed up.
Who or what will devour the devourer .? LiFE.
Christ has said in express terms, " I am the resurrec-
tion, and the life." They who fall asleep in Jesus
drop, in the very act of dying, into the life eternal. Mor-
tality— the liability to death — even the capability of
dying — will, to the redeemed, be lost, as the bodies of
the dead who died at sea are lost in the abyss. Death
is swallowed up— is lost in life. The dying day of a
Christian is his birth-day ; the departure is the entrance.
The passage may be dark and narrow, but it leads into
life. " Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord."
" Jesus, draw this heart of mine
Daily, hourly towards thine.
Longing, looking, thus I'll seek thee ;
And, in seeking, hope to meet thee:
Meeting thee, rejoice at last;
And, rejoicing, hold thee fast,
Till, beyond the grave, I see
Thee in heaven, and heaven in thee. "
XXI.
'' Jfruitf ul in zbtx^ Cooii §Eork/'
*' T/iaf ye might walk worthy of the Lord unto all pleasing, being fruitful in
every good work, and increasing in the knowledge of God. "— COLOSSIANS
i. lo.
I HE text is a single petition taken from the
middle of a prayer ; but although it is a part
of a larger whole, it is complete in itself, and
may without danger or detriment be isolated from the
context with a view to more minute inspection and more
specific practical use.
I count it of first-rate importance to state distinctly
here at the outset, that the prayer in general, as well as
this clause in particular, points to those who are already
Christians. It speaks not of birth, but of growth. We
have to do here not with the raising of the dead, but with
the advance of the living. You will fatally miss the
apostle's meaning if you confound the conversion of sin-
ners with the obedience of the renewed. A man has
broken a branch from a tree, and stuck it into the
ground. As he contemplates his childish handiwork, he
overhears a skilful horticulturist instructing his pupils in
FRUITFUL IN EVERY GOOD WORK. 299
the art of increasing the growth and fruitfuhiess of trees,
— they must be pruned, trained, watered, manured ; forth-
with the simpleton begins to perform toilsomely all these
operations upon his branch, expecting that thereby he
will make it fruitful. It never grows fruitful : it withers
first, and then rots away. Behold the picture of one who
has never passed from death into life under the mighty
ministry of the Spirit, and yet strives diligently to adorn
his life with a seemly obedience to the law of God. In
giving lessons on religion, we must, like our Master with
his pupil Nicodemus, begin at the beginning : " Except
a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of
God." The child, whether of the natural or the spiritual
family, must live before he grow. The tree, whether
in our garden or in God's, must have a living root be-
neath the ground ere it can wave fruitful branches in
the sky.
This portion of the Word bears on the converted,
stimulating them to an increase of spiritual understand-
ing and practical holiness. Assuming that the new life
has begun, it proposes to carry that life forward into
more vigorous and beneficent exercise. Other texts tell
how the dead may live, this text tells how the living may
more effectually serve the Lord. Incidentally, indeed, and
as a secondary result, the exhibition of a believer's privilege
and duty may pierce the conscience of a prodigal, and
induce him to arise and go to the Father too ; but here
and now the word is directly addressed to those who are
already accepted in the Beloved. The Lord has given
300
FRUITFUL IN EVERY GOOD WORK.
tin's word expressly v, ith the view of administering in-
struction and reproof to his own children.
The verse springs at first and grows to half its height
as a single stem ; it then parts into two equal and
parallel branches. To '* walk worthy of the Lord unto
all pleasing," thus far the Christian life is represented as
one and indivisible : a walk worthy of the Lord includes
within its ample girth all the graces of the Spirit. But
at a certain heicfht this solid mass of stem divides and
diverges, thenceforth rising toward heaven in two separate
yet twin-like boughs, corresponding to the two pillars on
which the whole structure of Christian theology stands —
faith and obedience. From the Decalogue downwards, the
teaching of the Scriptures has been poured alternately
and impartially into these two moulds. To know the
true, and to do the right, is the whole duty of man. God
is in Christ revealed : we should draw near and know
him. The world sins and suffers: we should strive to do
it good. These are the twin exercises of a believer's life,
— to know more every day of God his Saviour, and to do
good every day to a needy world ; increase in the know-
ledge of God, and be fruitful in every good work.
Passing over for the present that more generalized
view of the Christian life which represents all in one, as
a "walk worthy of the Lord," I request your attention to
that view of it which appears in the latter portion of the
text, composed of two distinct yet united branches, —
"fruitful in every good work, and increasing in the
knowledge of God."
FRUITFUL IN EVERY GOOD WORK. 301
We must examine first the nature of each, and there-
after we shall be better able to perceive and appreciate
their reciprocal relations.
I. The nature of each.
I. Active obedience : "Fruitful in every good work."
(i.) " Work!' — The Christian life is essentially a life of
labour. They who find Christ do, indeed, often speak of
having found rest to their souls ; but that rest does not
imply exemption from work : on the contrary, this " peace-
in believing" only supplies a firm foot-hold whereon the
labourer may stand more steadily, and so labour with
more effect. The rest which a troubled soul finds in
Christ is like the rest which the Pilgrim Fathers found
on the American continent. When they stepped upon
the shore free, feeling God's earth firm under their feet,
and seeing God's sunlight bright above their heads, they
said and sung, " This is our rest." But they meant not
idleness. Each family reared a cabin in the bush, and
forthwith w^aged war against the desert, until they had
subdued it, and turned it into a fruitful field. Their
resting-place was their working-place ; and none the
worse in their esteem was the rest because of the labour
that accompanied it. Beyond the reach of the tyrant,
and past the dangers of the sea, the rest they sought and
found was a place to work on, and useful labour close at
hand.
Such is a Christian's rest when the Son has made
him free, as long as he remains in the body. Liberty to
302 FRUITFUL IN EVERY GOOD WORK.
labour is all the rest he obtains or desires. Trusting in
Christ's merits, he also walks in Christ's steps : he goeth
about doing good.
(2.) " Good work." — Not energy of action merely : the
work must be good. The master is God ; the motive,
love ; the immediate aim, the good of the world ; and
the standard of measurement, " the law and the testi-
mony."
(3.) ''Every good work." — True Christian beneficence is
.characterized by a grand and god-like universality. This
does not mean that one man should go round the world
and meddle with everything in it : it rather means that
he should neglect no opportunity that comes in his way.
" Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy
might ;" but do not waste time and effort in trying to do
all at once. The rule is not to overtake all, but to refuse
none that overtake you. Have you seen those large,
lovely, transparent globes that float in sheltered bays a
little beneath the surface of the sea } They are living
creatures. They cannot cut quickly through the water in
chase of prey, but they lie wondrously open and v/atch-
ful to seize the prey that comes within their reach. They
lie open on all sides, and stretch out arms on all sides ;
and though they cannot go to a distance for what they
need, they intercept and use whatever, in the miscel-
laneous movements of the waves, may be passing by.
Thus, though nearly stationary, they are abundantly fed.
Such is the activity of a Christian man. His meat is to
do the Father's will ; but he is almost fixed to the spot.
FRUITFUL IN EVERY GOOD WORK'. 303
and cannot roam over the world for his spirit's congenial
food. He feeds abundantly notwithstanding. Let him
only lie open, and spread out, and be ready with an
active arm and an eager appetite : the sort of food that
will please his taste and strengthen his soul is floating
past continually in the tide of time. No Christian is
ever idle for want of something to do. But it is of the
last importance that we should cultivate a universal
willingness. Bought servants must not choose their
tasks : they must labour at the task which their Master
assigns to them. The tendency of every one of us is to
do duty by halves. One is great in gentleness, and fails
in courage ; another is great in courage, and fails in
gentleness. Brethren, it is not this one, or that other
work for which you have a natural aptitude, but '^ every
good work." The acting of a virtue that is not in your
nature will be a more impressive evidence that grace is
reigning. When an elephant picks a pin from the dust
with his huge trunk, men wonder more than when they
see him break a tree. So when a man of might — some
intellectual and moral hero, who dares every danger, and
delights in having danger to dare — condescends to bear
with the infirmities of the weakest, and like the good
shepherd, tenderly lifts a weary lamb in his arms, the
testimony of the fact is resistless, and observers confess
that the erace of God is there. To the same extent, on
the opposite side, the display of martyr courage in a
good cause by one who is constitutionally sensitive and
timid, tells more effectually than the exercise of the
304
FRUITFUL IN EVERY GOOD WORK.
natural bent. When the plaintive and bashful Jeremiah,
who said he could not speak because he was a child,
stands forth for God and righteousness, setting his face
like a flint before all his enemies, and denouncing unjust
tyrants to their face, the rebuke is powerful in exact pro-
portion to the natural feebleness of the reprover.
" Every good work," Christian. You must not pick
and choose. Whatever thy hand findeth to do, do it; for
God has put it in your way. Direct effort to convince
a sinner and lead him to Christ is one good work; to set
an untrained young mother on the way of cleaning her
house and cooking her husband's food is another. "Every
good work." Here it may be to open a church, and there
to dig a well ; here to support a missionary, and there
to widen a street. Everything that would benefit the
world, God's creation, or man, God's child, is congenial
occupation for the disciple of Jesus. Universality is the
characteristic most needed in our Christian benevolence.
Without partiality and without hypocrisy was the Macter;
without partiality and without hypocrisy should the ser-
vant be.
(4.) " Fniiiful ill every good workr — The comparison
of Christian beneficence to fruit indicates its spontaneous
nature, its useful effect, and its great abundance. The
good works grow as fruit grows on a fruit-tree. The tree
has first been made good, and then the fruit grows and
ripens spontaneously. You cannot gather grapes of
thorns ; but neither can you find thorn fruit growing on
a true vine. Every creature after its kind. He who in
/T? UITFUL IN E VER Y GOOD WORK. 305
the regeneration has been made partaker of Christ, givc.i
forth in his Hfe Christ-hke actions. There is a good deal
of artificial charity agoing. People can tie oranges to
the sprigs of a fir-tree in a parlour, and the show will
gratify children on a winter evening. But true Christian
beneficence is a fruit that grows, and is not tied on. It
swells up from sap which the tree of righteousness draws
out of that infinite love in which it is rooted. He who is
in Christ cannot stand still, any more than the water in
those iron tubes which traverse our streets in connection
with the great reservoir : on it must flow, wherever there
is an opening, by reason of the pressure from above.
Hear the exclamation of that ancient Christian in expla-
nation of his wonderful self-sacrifice and energetic labour
for the good of men : " The love of Christ constraineth
me." Efforts burst impetuous from his bosom whenever
an opening was made, because he was in union with the
Fountain-head on high.
As fruit is sweet and profitable, so are the efforts of
Christians for the good of the world. And like the
abundance with which good trees bear, is the abundance
of a true disciple's labours. The fecundity of Nature is
a standing wonder with all who possess sufficient intelli-
gence to observe it. The faculty of production in the
vegetable creation is, beyond all calculation or expres-
sion, great. Through adverse seasons and other causes,
the actual quantity of fruit brought to perfection is
greatly limited ; but the tendency and willingness and
capabihty of plants to produce their fruit in inconceiv-
20
3o6 FRUITFUL IN EVERY GOOD WORK.
able quantities may be seen everywhere in the teeming-,
flowering spring. Such is the tendency of a renewed
heart. Few, few of his aspirations does a Christian ever
actually reach ; but they swell in his bosom numerous
as the embryo seeds that hide beneath the flowers of
spring. He w^ho numbers the hairs of our head knows
and feels every loving thought that trembles in a broken
heart. With such sacrifices God is well pleased. He
recognizes the breathings of his own Spirit in the desires ;
and he will remove in good time these trees of righteous-
ness from the wilderness here to another garden, where
all their flowers will become fruits, and all their fruits
will ripen fully under the light of love.
2. Increase in the knowledge of God. — Christ came to
make known the Father. All our true knowledge of
God comes through the Mediator. The old invitation
still holds good, " O taste and see that God is good ! "
The prodigal would sometimes, in his exile, think of his
father, and fear his anger ; but he never knew his father
until he returned and lay in his bosom. In obtaining-
pardon and reconciliation through the blood of the
Lamb, you have the beginning of this knowledge ; and
those who attain the beginning are never content to rest
there. They forget and leave behind the attainments
already made, and reach forward to other and higher
measures of experience.
I am persuaded that any Christian, be he learned or
unlearned, who has been walking by faith for ten or
twenty years, will be able, on a careful comparison, to
FRUITFUL IN EVERY GOOD WORK. 307
detect a marked difference between the knowledge of
God which he attained at first, and that which he pos-
sesses now. As long as the tree lives, it grows. The
disciple who has walked far over the pilgrim's journey,
has a broader, deeper, more comprehensive knowledge
both of himself and of God than on the day when he
first took up his cross to follow Christ.
Among other features of the divine nature and attri-
butes which the experienced disciple knows better now,
the Fatherliness of God may be noted as perhaps the
side on which the greatest advances are obtained. More
or less of the spirit of bondage remains in a young dis-
ciple even after true conversion. It is long ere perfect
love casts out fear ; perhaps the fear is never wholly cast
out on this side of the grave ; but much progress may
be made in gradually diminishing it, by the inlet of con-
fiding love. It is like the process of exhausting the air
from a glass cup, and so making it adhere more and
more firmly to the table on which it stands. You place
it with its open mouth in contact with a substantially
solid but superficially soft surface, and begin to exhaust
the air from its cavity. At the very commencement of
the operation, when only a very little of the air has been
extracted, the cup begins to clasp spontaneously the
surface on which it leans. You proceed ; firmer and
more firm becomes the cup's hold, as the process of ex-
haustion goes forward. You do not, indeed, succeed in
drawing out all the air,— some remains in spite of every
effort ; but, for practical purposes, it is all the same in
3o8 FRUITFUL IN EVERY GOOD WORK.
effect as if the vacuum were complete. In some such
way increases the knowledge of God in a pardoned
sinner's breast. More and more of guilt's fear is drawn
off from his bosom ; more and more firmly, therefore,
does that bosom cleave to the almighty strength it
leans upon. The fear is never wholly removed in the
body here; and yet, as to cleaving, the result may be the
same practically. So much of the fear may be taken
out, and so great, consequently, may be love's spontane-
ous clasping to a Saviour's arm, that all the principalities
and powers of earth, all things present and all things
to come, could not separate that trusting man from that
trusted Redeemer.
11. The tmioii and reciprocal 7'elations of these tivo :
Friiitf Illness i7i Christian activity^ and Increase in the
knowledge of God.
The two grow together not only as two parallel
boughs of one bifurcated tree, standing on one stem,
drawing sap from the same root, and pointing up to
the same heaven. The union is all this, and more.
On the tree, one of the boughs might live although
the other were wrenched off by a storm. But the
union of the two things in the text is like the union
of the two sides in a human body : if one were want-
ing, the other would die. Christ-like work for the
world will lead the labourer's understanding deeper and
deeper into the secret of the Lord ; and, reciprocally, in-
crease in the knowledge of God stimulates into greater
FRUITFUL IN EVERY GOOD WORK. 309
activity substantial kindness to men. As the swing of
the pendulum to the right becomes the power which
carries it to the left, and its swing to the left the power
which carries it back to the right ; so true good-doing
makes the doer know God more, and true knowledge
of God sends back the scholar with a new impulse to
his work in the world. Moreover, by the balancing
alternations of the pendulum aberrations are prevented,
and the steady, true-going of the clock is secured ; so
the Christian life goes best which goes between a deep,
contemplative, spiritual knowledge of God, and hearty
practical work, as far as opportunity offers, for every
interest of every brother man. These two God hath
joined ; let no man dare to put them asunder.
I. Contemplate now the two sides alternately, one at
a time : and, first, active obedience is necessary to a
solid increase of spiritual experience ; you must be fruit-
ful in every good work, if you would increase in the
knowledge of God.
Alas ! the history of Christianity teems with evidence
that spiritual contemplation soon runs to seed when
practical duty is neglected. It was thus that monkery
began. It sprang at an early period of the Christian
era, and in Egypt — an ill-omened land. Men desired to
increase in the knowledge of God, and therefore retired
from the world. They hid themselves in caves on the
edges of the desert: good works they rendered for them-
selves impossible, by a voluntary banishment from their
kind. They made themselves utterly barren in that
3IO FRUITFUL IN EVERY GOOD WORK.
very thing wherein God had commanded them to be
fruitful, and that on pretence of obtaining thereby more
experimental knowledge of God. What God had joined
those men presumed to put asunder ; and they fared
accordingly, as all potsherds of the earth shall fare who
strive against their Maker. Simon, on the top of his
pillar, with the world wondering after him as a saint, did
not know God so well as he might if he had kept a shop
all day, and played with his children in the evening.
The whole monkish system is a divorce of these two,
who by God's appointment were joined in a perpetual
marriage. Begun in sincere ignorance, it has been per-
petuated by a cunning policy ; and the result is a brood
of creatures fit neither for this world nor the next. Their
kite was pointing heavenward and rising ; but it was not
rising far enough nor fast enough. It seemed to be
struggling upward, but held in check by the string that
attached it to the ground. That line which bound it to
the earth seemed the only hindrance of its flight to
heaven. Like foolish children, they cut the line that
bound it to the earth, expecting to see it then rising un-
impeded to the sky ; but, lo ! the kite when so set free,
instead of ascending majestically to heaven, whirled
round two or three times wildly, giddily, and then fell
flat upon the ground. Such was the result of Rome's
effort to raise her votaries to heaven, by cutting their
connection with the earth. The so-called saints fell
lower than before.
It is in active life that a Christian may make greatest
FRUITFUL IN E VER V GOOD IFOR A'. 3 1 1
progress in the knowledge of God. If you have been
reconciled to God through Christ, the best method of
improving a begun acquaintance is to take work in his
service. If any man is willing to do the work, he shall
know the doctrine. The more you work, the more you
will be wearied ; and the more you are wearied, the
stronger will grow your appetite for rest : this will make
you lean the oftener on the Father's breast, and con-
sequently increase your acquaintance with the Father.
He who gives out most in exhausting labour, takes in
most through wholesome food. As a general rule, the
hardest worker enjoys the robustest life : spiritually, this
rule certainly holds good. He who, at Christ's command,
puts forth much energy in doing good, draws more of
sustaining grace from the Redeemer's fulness to replace
the outlay, and so knows better by experience how pre-
cious is God's unspeakable gift.
2. On the other hand, contemplative communion with
God is necessary to a solid, successful activity in social
life. You must learn day by day more of God's good-
ness in Christ to you, if you would sustain without
weariness the labours of the Christian calling.
Here is one of the laws under which the disciples of
Jesus live: If they rush into a constant round of working,
without a corresponding increase in prayer, the work will
wane away like the flame of a lamp when the oil is ex-
hausted. When our work increases in bulk, we need
more of experimental communion with God to animate
the extended body. He who works most would also
312 FRUITFUL IN EVERY GOOD WORK.
need to pray most. Hard task this, do you think ? Yes,
if it be a task, it is a hard one ; but if work and prayer
be both ahke a privilege, the more you have of both the
happier will you be.
There is a well in your garden, and a pump for raising
the water to the surface. In this way you obtain for
ordinary seasons a sufficient supply. But at length a
drought, more sev^ere and more lengthened than any
heretofore, compels you to make a greater demand upon
the well. Every day you ply the handle harder and
longer, to refresh the ground and preserve the life of the
languishing vegetation. At last the supply fails, and you
ply your task in vain. No water comes, because there
has been too much working ; the work degenerates into
a barren, empty, hoarse noise. What then 1 What shall
be done } Sink your well deeper, and it will stand a
greater strain. We must go and do likewise when, by
too great and too long-continued external activity, our
movement becomes empty and fruitless labour. When
we work till our souls are wrought out, we must go
deeper down into the hidden veins of the soul's supply —
go deeper into the love of God, by secret communion
with the Saviour ; and the increase of his favour con-
sciously compassing your soul, will sustain a new and
greater effort of Christian activity.
Recall, in the close, the chief lesson of the text, as it
is addressed to the disciples of Christ. The prayerless
cannot work well, and the idle do not pray much. The
FRUITFUL IN EVERY GOOD WORK. 313
law is— Both or neither. On the one hand, do not per-
mit your desire for spiritual communion with God to
withdraw you from any kind or measure of work which
a fellow-creature needs ; and on the other, do not permit
your constant immersion in active duty to restrain or
curtail your communion with God. Go into every good
work in company with every true worker; and hallow all
by keeping company with Christ at every stage of the
process. Get, through the Mediator, free and frequent
approach to the Father of your spirit ; and commend
your faith to the world, by a ready, hearty co-operation,
in every effort that promises to advance either the tem-
poral or the cpiritual interests of your fellow-men. Do^
do whatever your hand finds to do. Christ your master
continually went about doing good : if you would be
like him now, and see him as he is at last, be fruitful in
every good work.
Between these two — doing good to a needy world, and
getting new measures of grace out of the Redeemer's
fulness — between these two let a Christian's life vibrate,
until life on earth shall beat its last, and at its last beat
leap into the life eternal.
XXTI.
''Mhzxt nxt the giint?''
** Where are the nine?'''' — Luke xvii. 17.
ERE is a house, a palace, the palace of the
Great King ; and there is a window in it — a
window of transparent glass. You are look-
ing towards it, but you see nothing. Many rich and
glorious things are within, but you see none of them.
All that you behold is a sheen of sunlight glittering on
the glass. You see the window, and you see it bright ;
but you do not see through the window into the dwell-
ing— you do not see through the window the Indweller.
Come nearer: look long and steadily. Shade the glare
of the outer sunlight from your eyes, and continue look-
ing. The precious things that lie within will begin one by
one to appear, until at last, seeing no longer the window,
through the window you see treasured up within all
the jewels of the kingdom, — see within the King him-
self looking in love on you. That window is the Word.
Many people see it, and recognize a certain purity and
brilliancy in its teaching ; but they do not see through
WHERE ARE THE NINE? 315
it; do not through it look unto Jesus, whom it contains
and reveals. Ye "search the Scriptures ; for in them ye
think ye have eternal life." Ye look towards tlie win-
dow, and when the western sun is beating on it, you be-
hold a shining golden glory, and you think you have
used the window well, and obtained the benefit it was
intended to confer. Ye "search the Scriptures; for in
them ye think ye have eternal life : but they are they
which testify of me, and ye will not come unto me that ye
might have life." Not those who look to the Scriptures
and own them sacred, but those who through the Scrip-
tures seek and find Christ, shall have life. Here is a
window in heaven at which the Saviour shows himself.
Come near ; look steadily. Shade ofi* from the mental
vision the disturbing glare of the world's busy day, and
to them that look for him he will appear, — appear alto-
gether lovely.
" Where are the nine 1 " It is the turning-point of a
tender story. Ten leprous men applied for help to Jesus
of Nazareth. He directed them how to obtain a cure.
They did as he bade them, and were all restored to
health. Of the ten, one returned to thank his Benefactor,
while all the rest went off, enjoying the gift but forget-
ting the Giver. To the one grateful patient who returned,
the Physician put the question, " Where are the nine t "
He received no answer to his question, and immediately
thereafter the scene closed. We learn nothing more of
the course or the fate of these nine healed lepers.
Tender, touching story ; and this question constitutes its
3i6 WHERE ARE THE NJNE?
turning-point. Touching story ; we have heard it now.
Let us pass on to the next.
No, friend ; we have not yet got all that lies within that
story. We have seen as yet only the window, with a
certain pleasant thrilling sheen dancing on its surface.
We have seen the glass darkly beautiful itself; but we
have not seen, through the glass, the face, the form, the
heart of Jesus.
Fix your regard on the spot a while. Draw near: look
steadily in. Adjust your mind and affections : shake
them out of the frame which they have taken from the
burning cares of the world's week. Let the walls of this
house, and the solemnities of the Sabbath, and the sounds
of praise, and the company of worshippers, constitute a
veil wherewith the mere disturbing rays may be kept at
bay. Look thus, and in secret pray for the Spirit, whose
mission it is to reveal Christ to men.
He is near. He has come from heaven and taken his
stand behind this transparent glass. He is wistfully
looking after the giddy multitudes who are shooting past
like a rushing stream, seeing not his loving look, hearing
not his pitying cry. He is near to-day: he is within this
veil. Through that transparency, if we adjust our eyes
and shade off the outside glare, we may see into his
heart, and mark there the throbbing of a love that passeth
knowledge. Out with the world's blinding light, and
gaze not idly on the shining surface of the Bible, but
through it on the Beloved who shows himself at the
lattice there.
WHERE ARE THE NINE? 3,7
Through this brief text I beh'cve we may perceive
much of the mind that is in Christ Jesus towards sinful
men.
As the Lord was about to enter a certain villacre on
the way from Galilee to Jerusalem, ten lepers met him,
and besought him to cure their disease. Their case was
sad. They were incurables. They were shunned by
their neighbours. They saw their own flesh wasting
away by inches, and could look for no deliverance except
in the grave. What none other could do for them Jesus
did. He acceded to their request, and healed them all.
This act was of a piece Vv^ith his whole life. He went about
doing good. His hand was always stretched out to save,
never lifted up to smite. His whole history teems with
tenderness. He was a man, and nothing human lay out
of his way. He had sympathy for every sorrow, balm
for every wound. No human being did this man Christ
Jesus ever hurt. When in the overflowings of his love
he needed an example of stern judgment to enforce his
warnings, he chose a tree as the object of the curse.
He would not permit the curse to fall on men. Even
fruitless human lives he spared. To show the righteous
judgments of God, he smote a barren fig-tree ; but he
left barren souls unsmitten, that they might get in full
their day of grace, — that they might turn and live.
This Physician, however, looked to the whole man,
while his patients for the most part looked only to the
lower half. They sufl"cred : they felt the suffering, but
not the sin. They were eager to get healing for their
318
WHERE ARE THE NINE?
bodies ; and if they could gain this object, were willing
to go away with the sting of the second death still in
their souls. The blind men at Jericho cried vehemently,
" Jesus, thou son of David, have mercy on us." When
the people rebuked them, and enjoined them to hold
their peace, they cried so much the more, — as a stream
of water rushes more impetuously down when efforts are
made to obstruct its course. Thus men in need cry for
a cure when there is sensation in the seat of the ailment.
In the same way these lepers entered with their whole
heart into the business of applying for a cure.
But while the patients generally thought of the bodily
ailment only, the Physician looked to both the disease
of the body and the sin of the soul, — the sin of the soul
mainly. To heal this disease was the end of the Lord.
Other healings he made the instruments, the stepping-
stones whereby he might reach his goal. He was always
passing through time's affairs towards the interests of
eternity. Those with whom he dealt continually vexed
him by attempting to detain him among the stuff of the
present : " Lord, dost thou not care that my sister hath
left me to serve alone } bid her therefore that she help
me Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled
about many things; but one thing is needful: and Mary
hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken
away from her" (Luke x. 40-42).
Let us look now, in the light of these examples, to the
spirit and conduct of the lepers. They were all weary
of the loathsome disease, and all desired to be healed.
WHERE ARE THE NLVE? 319
As Jesus passed by, having previously heard of his com-
passion and his power, they united in a fervent appeal for
help : " Jesus, master, have mercy on us."
He healed them, in compliance with their request; but
he sent them out of his sight to be healed. He tries
them: he desired that they should return to himself
with thanks ; but the Lord loveth a cheerful comer as
well as a cheerful giver. He does not, in this depart-
ment, accept of forced or formal offerings. By arranging
that the cure takes effect while they are at a distance, he
tests effectually whether a true, grateful love, is burning
in their breasts. If they desired only the bodily boon,
they will go away with the healing and forget the
Healer.
Nine of the lepers, on discovering that their leprosy
had left them, went their ways, one to his farm, and an-
other to his merchandise. They were glad, no doubt,
when they felt their flesh coming again like the flesh of
a little child ; — they were glad, but not grateful. The
spirit of these men, like the spirit of the beast, goeth
downward. They rejoice in their whole skin, as the ox
rejoices in green pastures ; but as to recognition of the
Giver, they are as dull as he.
One of the healed men came back to praise the Lord ;
and he was a Samaritan. Incidentally we obtain a
glimpse here of the hardness that had befallen Israel, as
well as of the tenderness with which fhe Good Shepherd
sought to restore his own. He receives with open arms
the stranger ; but he laments that the lost sheep of the
320 WHERE ARE THE NINE?
house of Israel did not return too to the Shepherd and
Bishop of their souls.
In the act of calling some of the twelve from their
employment on the Lake of Galilee, the Lord had said,
" Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men." He
made them what he already was himself His command,
" Follow me," went deeper than the act of walking behind
him on the same path : he invited them to do what he
was doing — to be his colleagues and successors in the
ministry of the gospel, in the work of the kingdom. In
general, he came to seek and save the lost ; and in one
particular aspect of his saving work, he was a fisher of
men.
When he cast his line into the world's great sea, to
win souls from it to himself, he put on it a bait that was
pleasant to nature. Healing for the body was the en-
ticement which he employed. Many a poor diseased
creature, drawn to him as the curer of disease, was
caught, and won, and renewed. The woman who was
bowed down with her infirmity, and impoverished by
unsuccessful efforts to obtain a cure, was in this way
brought to Jesus. For help to her body she came ; and
having come to the Saviour, she found life for her soul.
Her long agony had worn her shame away and given
her boldness : she pressed through the crowd, and
touched the hem of the Physician's garment. She seems
to have been much amazed at the result. The healed
was filled with wonder, and the Healer with delight. I
scarcely know any occasion in the gospel history in
WHERE ARE THE NINE? 321
which the Lord manifested an intenser pleasure, than
when that poor woman drew from him both the hcaHnc^s
at once. I think I see him standing; still, and turnincr
round, weary of the plaudits of a sycophant multitude,
and seeking out this one suffering sinner who came to
him that she might have life. Remember, in such a case,
the words of the Lord Jesus, how he said, " It is more
blessed to give than to receive." He gave her pardon
and eternal life, — and to give was his own delight.
But the nine ! How wistfully Jesus looks after them
as they go away! As a fisher, who has cast his line into
the sea, is peculiarly disappointed when the fishes ap-
proach and carry off the bait without being taken, — so
he looked on the healed lepers as they receded from his
view. They had greedily swallowed what was sweet to
nature, — the cure of their bodily disease ; but having
obtained the boon they sought, they did not permit them-
selves to be pierced, and held, and brought back by that
which lay behind and within the bait, — the pardoning
love and renewing power of the Saviour. Ah, lepers,
lepers, if you had known in that day the things that be-
longed to your peace ! You have got quit of the leprosy;
but you have not escaped the grave and the judgment-
seat. You have put off the leprous skin ; but you have
not put off the old man. You took greedily the temporal
benefit, and despised the precious gift which the Lord
was longing to bestow. You made a deep mistake in
snatching merely the lesser gift, and leaving the greater
behind.
(512) 2 1
322 WHERE ARE THE NINE?
We are not left to conjecture what the Lord would
have said to the nine, if they had come back to him with
tender, thankful hearts. We know what he said to the
one who did return : " Arise, go thy way ; thy faith hath
made thee whole." The expression which has been
translated, " Thy faith hath made thee whole," is simply,
" Thy faith hath saved thee."
The expression occurs (ch. vii. 50) in a case where no
bodily disease intervenes, and where, consequently, the
meaning is not complicated by the occurrence of a bodily
cure. The woman who washed his feet with tears in
Simon's house laboured under no bodily ailment. Jesus
did not in that case perform a cure. He found the body
sound, and healed the sin-diseased soul. He said to her,
" Thy faith hath saved thee ; go in peace." The phrase
in the original is precisely the same as in the case of the
leper ; but as there was no physical cure to which it
could be referred, the translators have rendered it liter-
ally, " Thy faith hath saved thee."
Now, it cannot be meant here that his faith had healed
his leprosy. His leprosy was healed before that particu-
lar exhibition of faith which consisted in returning to
Jesus. Moreover, the nine were healed as well as this
one ; and manifestly the Lord intends to intimate that
the Samaritan had faith, in contradistinction to the nine
who lacked it. The faith, whatever its nature may have
been, was peculiar to the one of the ten ; but all the ten
alike were healed of their leprosy ; therefore it cannot be
the healing of his leprosy that his peculiar faith obtained.
WHERE ARE THE NINE? 323
He had another faith, and obtained another cure. lie
beheved to the saving of his soul.
In this man the Redeemer sees of the travail of his soul,
and is satisfied : in the other men he sees no fruit, and
therefore complains. The plaint is tender and human,
and brings Christ's compassion very close to us. It is as
if he saw the prospect of winning ten, to add to his crown
of joy and rejoicing ; and missing all but one, he looked
after the nine with tears as they went away. In the
light of his whole life and ministry you may easily read
that the reason why he lamented the absence of the nine
was, that their return with thanks would have shown
them to be tenderly receptive, and have afforded him
the opportunity of bestowing pardon and peace. It was
with an eye to an opening into their souls that he had
healed their bodies. With liberal hand he had poured
out on them the goodness of God, that it might lead
them to repentance ; he was disappointed, accordingly,
when these nine needy men left untouched the treasures
of his grace.
Such was the heart of Jesus then ; and such also it is
to-day. Such was his longing to save the needy then ;
and such is his longing to save still.
His methods, too, are similar. He has all power in
heaven and on earth. He employs the powers of Nature
and the facts of Providence to further his spiritual king-
dom of holiness and love. In particular, it is the Lord's
way, alternately or simultaneously to administer two
different, opposite applications, with one and the same
324
WHERE ARE THE NINE?
end in view, — -to lead sinners to himself for the saving of
their souls : these are the goodness and the severity of
God. Mercy and judgment alternate in the dispensations
of God, and in the songs of his people. (Ps. ci. i.)
When the Lord relieves a pain, or confers a bounty, he
expects that the delivered man will come back to him
with praise. We need here a living faith in the Ruler of
the world. We miss many specimens of his kindness,
through a careless habit of mind. " Whoso is wise, and
will observe these things, even he shall understand the
lovingkindness of the Lord." He restores you to health
after sickness ; or he maintains you in health unbroken
for many years. He blesses your business, so that from
comparative poverty you come to plenty. He surrounds
you with a loving circle, supplies a nursing for you in
sickness, which the wealth of a kingdom could not buy.
He casts your lot in a pleasant place, where civil and
religious liberty is over all, like the air over the earth.
He is pouring out his goodness ; but remember, he rules
with intelligence, and for a purpose. You may see
clearly in our text that Jesus healed the lepers in order
that his goodness might draw them back tender and
receptive to himself. He changeth not : for the same
object he lavishes his kindness on you. Oh, if we could
hear the word from high heaven — the word would still
be, " Where are the nine } "
This grateful spirit, like other spirits, needs to be em-
bodied in order that it may be of substantial use. It
should clothe itself in thank-offerings. There are many
WHERE ARE THE NINE?
325
gifts coming down from the "Father of h'ghts:" there
ought to be many thank-offerings contributed to his
service. Plentiful showers are dropping from the skies :
many springs should be bursting from the earth. Good
works that we have in hand — works really needful and
wisely planned — should not be starved for want of means
to carry them on. " Freely ye have received, freely
give."
XXJIL
''in thx0 thp iliap/'
*' Ajid when he was come near, he beheld the city, and wept over it.''^
Luke xix. 41.
MMEDIATELY before his passion, the Lord
had retired for a time with his disciples be-
yond Jordan. But as the period of his ap-
pointed baptism approached, he was straitened and stirred
by his desire to finish the work. He arose and set his
face steadfastly toward Jerusalem. On the way he
taught precious lessons, and performed merciful cures,
but he tarried nowhere long. His heart was full of his
great purpose, as the moment approached for its fulfil-
ment. He took the twelve aside by the way, and told
them plainly of his approaching death. But the message
was so great, that, though spoken in the clearest terms,
they lacked capacity to take it in. They understood
him not. As they passed Jericho, the two blind beggars
were healed ; and Zaccheus, the chief publican, was visited
and won.
On the way between Jericho and the eastern slope of
IN THIS Tljy DAY. yi-j
Olivet, the Master taught his httlc class yet another
feature of the kingdom under the figure of the ten
pounds intrusted to the ten servants. The nobleman
left his home to obtain from the supreme power of the
world the sovereignty of his native country. When he
returned with kingly power, he rewarded the loyal and
punished the faithless. Shadowing forth his own return
in power, the Lord in the person of that earthly potentate
said, " But those mine enemies, who would not that I
should reign over them, bring hither and slay them be-
fore me."
" And luhen he had thus spoken, he went before, ascend-
ing lip to Jerusalemy — After predicting his second com-
ing in glory to judge the world, he hastened onward to
Jerusalem, that he might be judged, condemned, and
crucified by wicked men. What union of honour and
shame, of power and weakness, of mortality as man and
life eternal as God over all !
" Ajid zvhen he was come near, he beheld the city, and
zvept over it!' — On the same spot David stood and looked
down on Jerusalem, and wept (2 Sam. xv. 30). David
was a type of Christ. His weeping was in many aspects
the opposite of Christ's, as a type is the reverse of its
lesson. David was ascending the hill ; Jesus was de-
scending. David was hastening out of Jerusalem to save
his life ; Jesus was hastening into Jerusalem in order to
lay his hfe down. David wept for himself, because he
had lost a crown he once wore; Jesus wept for others,
because they refused a crown and kingdom in their offer.
328 IN THIS THY DA K
Mark then the fact, for it is significant, that the ground
which drank in the falHng tears from David's cheeks on
the day of his dethronement, was wet with tears from
the eyes of David's Lord on the day when he had been
accepted King of Israel by the acclaim of assembled
thousands.
After his great humiliation, David's tears were dried,
and he returned to Jerusalem triumphant — returned, like
the nobleman in the parable, to reward those who had
been faithful to his government ; and to render a reward
also to those men who had said, " We will not have this
man to reign over us." In like manner, the Messiah,
after these tears, and the crown of thorns and the cross,
will return to reign and to judge.
The Messiah was a man of sorrows and acquainted
with grief. His life was one long suffering ; but in it
there are two marks — two monuments set up to desig-
nate the places where he wept. Two Bochim pillars
stand on the edge of his path over this life. Both the
spots were on the Mount of Olives : one on the western
slope and one on the eastern ; one in sight of Jerusalem,
and the other at Bethany, with the mountain-ridge be-
tween. A strange history has that hill : the earth on
either side of its base was wet with the Redeemer's
tears ; while the olive - yard of Gethsemane was the
scene of his bloody sweat.
These two recorded weepings of the Lord Jesus were
a balanced pair in their moral meaning, as well as in
their physical position. The one was a melting in sym-
IN THIS THY DA Y. 329
pathy with human suffcrlnfr ; the other an a^^ony on
account of human sin. He wept at Bethany because
his friends suffered ; he wept at OHvet because his adver-
saries were noting in the pleasures of sin.
The two weepings are recorded by two completely
distinct words. The term employed to express the
weeping at Bethany indicates tears only. It was a silent
flood. The term in this text means a crying ; that
physical effect of human sorrow when it reaches its
highest point — a combination of flowing tears and strong
cries. It is not often that a man of mature age, if he
enjoys mental and physical health, is seen shedding
tears ; but it is still more seldom that a man of mature
age bursts out into that peculiar agony which rends his
frame with audible sobs. This seems to have been the
kind of grief into which the Redeemer had fallen on
that spring evening on the edge of Olivet which looked
towards the setting sun.
The difference between the two weepings seems to be
like the difference between a soft spring shower, and the
rain that strikes the earth in heavy, quick drops, when
the clouds are riven with lightning, and the mountains
are echoing with the thunder's roar. How different the
moral meaning of these two rainings on the earth. For
the suffering of the two saved sisters, Jesus wept the
soft, tender, silent tears of sympathizing love : over the
crowd of self-pleasers, Christ-crucifiers, that filled Jeru-
salem when Jerusalem was filling up the measure of her
sins, Jesus wept those hot, burning drops, which are
330
IN THIS THY DA V.
shaken fitfully from a human face, when the mourner's
whole frame is rending, and convulsive cries are break-
ing unbidden from his lips.
David had two weepings as well as Jesus. Not that
the king of Israel wept only twice in his life, or during
his reign ; for we know that sometimes he made his bed
to swim with his tears : but in his history two examples
stand out on record, like monumental pillars, near the
path on which he trod. One of these, as we have al-
ready seen, was on the western slope of Olivet, at the
spot where Jesus long afterwards wept ; the other was
far eastward of that mountain, when his rebellious but
well-beloved son was dead. In that sorrow David stands
in clear contrast to his Lord. He wept in weakness,
because he could not save his son's life by laying down
his own.
That weakness does not adhere to our King. The
Heir of David's throne sheds no such feeble tears. He
is mighty to save. He gloriously accomplished what
David fondly and despairingly wished he had been able
to do. When he wept over Jerusalem, he did not weep
in weakness, as one that could not save : he wept in
tenderness, as knowing that the perishing would not ac-
cept salvation at his hands. In bringing many sons
unto glory, the Captain of our salvation was made per-
fect through suffering. By dying, he destroyed death,
and him who had its power. He did the very thing
which his type lamented his inability to do : he gave his
life a ransom for many. " He bare our sins in his own
IN TIIIS^ THY DA Y. 331
body on the tree :" " He died, the just for the unjust ;"
he died that we might Hve.
The lamentation of David was on this wise : Alas ! I
cannot give my life to atone for and recall my prodigal
son ; and though I gave my life, it would not avail. The
lamentation of the Son of God is, that the prodigal,
when atonement is made, and righteousness wrought,
and pardon won, shuts his eyes against the light, and
will not accept the salvation that is pressed to his heart.
What David the father could not do, in that he was
weak through the flesh — mere humanity — Jesus Christ
the Son did, by his own power and goodness, as God
over all. Our help is laid on one that is mighty.
We have had fathers of our flesh who loved us, who
would have given their own life for ours, who wept when
they could not ward ofl" the blow from our head by lay-
ing their own beneath it. Oh, if we had known no other
help ! They could not save : they must stand and see us
sink. But our help is on One that is mighty. " Thanks
be unto God for his unspeakable gift."
Why he wept : " Saying, If thou hadst knowit^ eve7i
thoUy at least in this thy day, the things ivhich belong
unto thy peace ! but now they are hid from thine eyes." —
It is interesting and instructive to notice here, how the
Lord regards men both in their corporate and their indi-
vidual capacities. He made us, and he knows what
is in man. He knows that each immortal stands on his
own feet, and must meet with God alone, as far as re-
gards all the rest of humanity. But he knows and
332 IN THIS THY DA Y.
recognizes, also, that we are made with social instincts
and faculties ; that we cannot exercise the functions of
our nature without society ; and that we are all affected
deeply by our intercourse with others, both as regards
our time and our eternity. He who at one time ex-
claims, " O Jerusalem, Jerusalem ! " or, " O Chorazin ! "
" O Bethsaida ! " at another time brings the sword of
the Spirit to the very breast of an individual man, and
singling him out from all the world, runs it through his
joints and marrow. ''Simon, son of' Jonas, lovest thou
me } " " Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me t " Each
in turn ; each in its own place. Now the community is
addressed, and now the person. In one aspect, each man
stands or falls for himself alone ; in another aspect, we
grasp each other, and like the victims of a shipwreck,
either help to sink or help to save one another.
It is in the latter aspect that the Lord regarded the
inhabitants of Jerusalem, as he looked on them across
the glen from the neighbouring mountain's brow. They
were brethren in iniquity. Hand was joining in hand
in preparation for the highest crime ever done in the
universe. They were leagued in a dark covenant to
crucify the Son of God. Priest was stirring up people ;
people were preparing to support priest. Native popu-
lation was preparing to coerce foreign ruler; foreign
ruler to falter and give way to the coercion of a mob.
They were linked together as one man: "Let us
break his bands asunder, and cast away his cords : "
"We will not have this man to reign over us:" "This
IN THIS THY DA Y. 333
is the heir ; come let us kill him, and the inheritance
shall be ours."
Looking down on Jerusalem, and making great lamen-
tation over it, I find the ground of his grief was, not that
they had sinned, and so brought on themselves condem-
nation. In that there was nothing peculiar to Jerusalem.
Here they were in the same state as all the world. For
that, though the loss was great, a remedy was ready.
This Redeemer, travelling in the greatness of his strength,
would not weep because men needed redemption. What
makes him weep is, that they will not accept it at his
hands. There was a weeping for the Fall ; but it is past.
There was a weeping in heaven when sin began ; but
the covenant dried up those tears. The Son interposed:
" Save from going down to the pit, for I have found a
ransom." The atonement is sufficient for a world.
There needs no weeping now over the fall. One woe is
past ; but, lo ! another cometh. The lost will not accept
the Saviour ; and again he weeps. It is not. Oh, if thou
hadst never fallen ! but, If thou hadst known the re-
demption that I bring.
This, under the covenant of grace, is the turning-point
with us all. There is condemnation over all the world,
as long as the world meets God on its own work ; but
"there is now no condemnation to them that are in
Christ Jesus."
** hi this thy day'.' — Jerusalem had a day. Every com-
munity and every person has a day — a day of mercy.
If in that day the lost shall turn, they will get life in the
334 IN THIS THY DA V.
Lord. But if they allow their day to pass, there remain-
eth only darkness — a fearful looking for of judgment.
" T/ie things which belo7ig unto thy peace!' — The things
which God had fixed in the eternal covenant, and re-
vealed in the fulness of time, were things that Jerusalem
did not know. Like the way-side, hard-trodden ground,
they did not open their hearts to take in the seed of the
word. If the things had been harsh and forbidding, we
might have understood their distaste ; but the things
concerned their own peace. Peace through pardon ;
peace from God ; peace with God. Strange, that men
should turn away from that winsome sight !
Merchants know the state of the markets, capitalists
know how it goes with shares, — the things which belong
to their gains ; but how many know not the things
that belong to their peace !
" Bnt they are hid from thine eyes!' — " The ox
knoweth his owner, and the ass his master's crib ; but
Israel doth not know, my people doth not consider."
" Hid!' The tender mercies of God held out in free
offer, and pressed, how come they to be hid .-* Hid, as
sometimes the sky and the sun are hid by thick exhala-
tions that rise from the gross earth. " Out of the heart
proceed evil thoughts." This cloud comes up and covers
the great things of God — blots out from the bhnded
transgressor the lights set high in heaven, to illuminate a
darkened world and lead to a happy home.
Instead of carrying further the exposition of the text
IN THIS THY DA Y. 335
in its original application, I shall now endeavour to
apply its lesson to our own time and place. It was
meant to be so transferred. The word of the Lord
remains for us after the holy men who wrote it have
gone to their rest. This word "liveth and abidcth for
ever."
We have here a city, and it is a city of many solem-
nities. This is our Jerusalem. Many precious things
are embalmed, like bits of amber, in its somewhat hard
and rugged history. Especially, here the Reformation
had its dwelling in its youth. Here its ministers faith-
fully preached, and its martyrs meekly fell. Edinburgh is
one of the sacred places for the Protestants of Scotland,
and of the world. It is a city that has been lifted up to
heaven by its privileges : if it fall by its sins, it will be
more crushed than other sinful cities, because it falls
from a greater height. Even in our own days the Lord
hath done great things for us here, whereof we are glad.
If the same Jesus should stand on the hill that over-
looks our city from the east and look on its busy multi-
tudes, what might his emotions be .'' He is " the same
yesterday, to-day, and for ever ; " and if we be like the
Jerusalem he then gazed upon, he would weep. In the
conflict of emotions which would rise in the breast of the
Son of man, would the " Father, I thank thee," or, " Oh !
if thou hadst known ! " be the prevailing exclamation t
Those eyes that were blinded with tears, are the same
that John saw as a flame of fire. Tliose eyes are over
all the earth, and in the secrets of every heart. It is
336 IN THIS THY DA Y,
because of what he, as omniscient, sees in men, that he
weeps as Mediator for and with them. He penetrates
into the dark places of the city. He ranges through the
wretched streets, and hears the jubilee of the wicked
ones in their midnight orgies. He looks within the low,
dark, cold dwellings, where men and women may lie on
the floor by night, but can hardly stand erect by day.
He sees the unnatural parents who starve their little
ones, that they may feed their own lusts. He sees the
thoughtless youth who deserts in poverty the mother
who bore him. He sees the fiery appetites of the intem-
perate, and the enticements spread out to allure the
victim into the net. The confused hum of a noisy and
noisome pauperism is articulate in his ear, and he traces
the threads of the tangled web to their source and cause.
Lifting his eyes from this quarter of the city and fixing
them upon another, he beholds a gay fluttering throng
pressing forward, and trampling on each other, chasing a
phantom that continually recedes and baffles them.
The very eye-balls of the chasers seem ready to start in
the eagerness of the race ; and while they all follow
pleasure, pain is stamped on every brow. " Lovers of
pleasures more than lovers of God." And again, as he
looks on the city, he weeps.
But are there not many companies in this city who
are called by his name, and make their appeal to his
Word } Surely he will be well pleased when his eye
rests on these. True, wherever he sees a faithful
witness, and a humble disciple, with that man he will
IN THIS THY DAY. 337
dwell. From the high heaven he will descend, and
make his abode with the man who accepts him as his
Lord and Saviour. But wherever he sees profession
without practice — wherever he sees a zeal for God that
twines around uncharitableness to men — wherever he
sees the new name wedded to the old nature, — he weeps
over the unequal yoking.
Lord, is it I } — Lord, is it I } Oh ! if every man were
not only zealous for public faithfulness, but jealous over
himself with a godly jealousy ! — if every man should so
receive an indwelling Christ, that wrath and malice and
evil-speaking should be driven away at his presence, the
Lord would look down on our beautiful city as his
garden, and enter it to taste his pleasant fruit. He
would wipe his tears away, and rejoice over us with
singing.
"In this thy day." Thy day ! If when the sun sets
in the west we were not sure whether he would rise on
the morrow, oh what an evening it would be ! ONE
day! ** Thy day'' ! How precious! But if the day is
allowed to pass, and the work of the day not done, how
terrible the sunset ! Jerusalem had her day ; the day
was passing, — it was past. Jerusalem did not know
her day, and did not notice that it had passed. Jerusa-
lem, with her day done, was laughing : Jesus, looking on
lost Jerusalem, wept.
This is not of private interpretation, — it is written for
our sakes. Our city has a day ; ourselves have a day.
Throughout this day it is peace — your peace — pressing
(512!
338 IN THIS THY DA K
like the air around us. The night cometh, when that
light of life is gone. Men mistake the meaning of Em-
manuel's tenderness. It is not tenderness to sin. Men
are tender to their own sin, treating it as a spoiled child,
— blaming it in words, but fondling it all the while ; and
they think that Christ will turn out such an one as
themselves. His grief does not indicate a holding back,
a hesitating to cast away the wicked. The earnestness
with which the Redeemer strove to snatch the brand
from the burning, shows that there is a burning for the
brand. The tears he shed over Jerusalem do not prove
that he will falter and hesitate to lay her even with the
ground when her day is done : if he had thought that
Jerusalem might escape in her sin, he would not have
wept to see her sinning. No preachers are so terrible as
the Redeemer's tears. People speak of some ministers as
harsh because they say that the wicked shall be turned
into hell. Ah ! the sternest preacher is soft compared
with this weeping of Christ. You despise the weak-
ness that weeps over an unreal woe. Would you write
this weeper down as a fool, making an ado where there
is no danger } This same Jesus will not weep when he
says to them on his left hand, " Depart from me ; " but
he weeps to-day over those who neglect his salvation, if
so be that by this last and strongest drawing he might
draw the lost from the pit.
The lesson that presents itself at the close, is the
lesson that springs out of almost every text, — the lesson,
I A' Tins THY DA V. . 339
as fresh and precious now as when it was first articulated
by the tongues of men, — the lesson that Jesus, who
bought redemption with his own blood, who has redemp-
tion plenteous treasured in the eternal covenant —
pardon, instant and free and complete for ever — that he,
the Author and Possessor and Giver of eternal redemp-
tion to the lost, rejoices when they accept his gift, and
weeps over them when they neglect it !
XXIV.
^\u Wxxu flings.
" So Maiiasseh slept with his fathers, and they buried him in his own house:
ajtd Amon his son reigned in his stead. Ainon was two and tiuenty
years old when he begati to reign, and reigned tioo years in yerusalem.
But he did that which was evil in the sight of the Lord, as did Manasseh
his father: for Amon sacrificed unto all the carved images which Manas-
seh his father had made, and served them ; and humbled not himself
before the Lord, as Manasseh his father had humbled hijnself ; but Amon
trespassed more and more. And his servants conspired against him, and
slew him in his own house. But the people of the land sleiu all them that
had conspired against king Amon ; and the people of the land made
Josiah his son king in his stead.''"' — 2 Chronicles xxxiii. 20-25.
N this history, within the space of six verses
three kings succeed each other by right of
birth on the throne of Judah at Jerusalem.
Through these three links the kingdom descends in a direct
line from father to son, — from Manasseh to Amon, from
Amon to Josiah. These three kings, though closely related
in blood, were very diverse in spirit. Neither the good nor
the evil was hereditary. Grace did not follow nature.
Much instruction may be obtained from the story of
each taken by itself, and still more from the connected
narrative of the three. In some places a single light
THE THREE KINGS. 341
burning aloft on the shore is sufficient to direct the
mariner as he approaches the harbour in darkness ; but
in some two Hghts are necessary, in others three, of dif-
ferent colours, and placed on different sides of the chan-
nel. These names, with the histories attached to them,
are set in the Bible like beacon-lights burning on the
shore. As. we make way over life's dangerous sea, we
should take our bearings by these marks, that we may
steer clear of rocks where other wayfarers made ship-
wreck, and follow the track of those who safely reached
their rest. At this point of our voyage three lights are
set up ; not all on the same side, and not all of the same
colour, disposed so that no thoughtful voyager can miss
their meaning. The characters are widely different, and
the instruction which their histories contain is on that
account all the more precious. Lights all of one colour,
and shining all in one row, would not have much meaning.
The white light of safety, the green light of caution, and
the red light of danger are all equally useful, equally
necessary, each in its own place. Thus, the early wicked-
ness and late repentance of Manasseh, the grandfather, —
the reckless life and violent death of Amon, the father,
— and the childhood piety and lengthened usefulness of
Josiah, the son, are a chain of lights set up on the line of
our life-path to warn us away from the rocks and quick-
sands,— to guide us to the haven.
Let us now consider the history of these three kings,
with a view to the practical lessons which it is fitted to
teach.
342 THE THREE KINGS.
I. Manasseh. — Although he was the son of the best of
David's descendants, he was himself for a long time one
of the worst. Hezekiah was a pattern of godliness in his
day. Manasseh, his son and successor, was a profane and
cruel idolater. He built altars to the sun and the moon
within the precincts of the temple of God at Jerusalem.
He made his own children pass through the fire in honour
of his idols. He sinned with a high hand himself, and
led his subjects in his own steps. Instead of being an
example to others, Jerusalem, in his days, was more
wicked than the surrounding heathen.
In the course of time, this bad king fell into deep afflic-
tion. The king of Assyria sent an army against him.
Manasseh was not a coward : he hastily collected a body
of soldiers, and marched to meet the enemy. The battle
was decided against him by what is commonly called an
accident. In some turn of the conflict, the king of Judah
and his men were obliged to march through a field over-
grown with thorns. The soldiers were entangled, and
could neither go backward nor forward. While they
were in this position, the Assyrians attacked them and
gained the victory. Manasseh himself was taken prisoner,
and carried in chains to Babylon.
He thought, no doubt, and said, that if the thorns had
not happened to be so rank on that field, he would have
gained the battle. The conquered king would lay the
blame on the thorns ; but it was God who used both the
thorns and the Assyrian army as his instruments to bring
affliction on Manasseh for his good. His trouble was
THE THREE KINGS, 343
blessed. " When he was In affliction, he besought the
Lord his God, and humbled himself greatly before the
God of his fathers." The hard heart of this chief sinner
was broken. He grieved over his own sin ; he sought
mercy from God in the appointed way, — he sought and
found. For that blessed law, " Seek, and ye shall find,"
was in operation long before it was announced in these
terms by the Lord Jesus. God heard that sinner's
prayer, and pardoned him. Jesus Christ, the same
yesterday, to-day, and for ever, received that sinner long
ago, before there were any Pharisees to upbraid him for
the fact. After this change the king lived and reigned
a while. Then he was a good king, because he was a
new creature. He could reign well over men, after he
had submitted himself unto God.
The history is recorded in the earlier portion of the
chapter. It is a grand example of a high-handed sinner
finding mercy late in life, and spared a while to bring
forth fruits meet for repentance. This example stands in
the Old Testament as the penitent thief on Calvary stands
in the New, — a monument of God's wonderful mercy,
and a sign that the chief of sinners need not despair.
The latter portion of Manasseh's life was devoted to
the service of God and the well-being of his country.
When the tree was made good, it bore good fruit : when
his heart was made new, his life became holy. His con-
version was true the moment that he turned ; and if he
had been called away then, he would have been called to
rest. But the sparing mercy that left him a while in the
344 ^'^^^ THREE KINGS.
world after he was renewed was a great privilege to himself
and an unspeakable encouragement to those who follow.
II. '' Amon his son reigned i7i his stead!' — This poor
monarch's life and reign occupy only four verses of the
history. The story is very short, but very clear : the
words are few, but the meaning is great. When he as-
cended the throne at his father's death he was twenty-
two years of age. His conduct was bad, his reign short,
and his death violent.
Having seen both sides of his father's character, he re-
jected the good part, and imitated the evil. He served
the idols which Manasseh had made in the days of his
sin, and sought not that gracious God whom Manasseh
had found in the day of his repentance. " He humbled
not himself before the Lord, as Manasseh his father had
humbled himself; but Amon trespassed more and more."
Such was his life ; and from our own experience we
may discover, without much risk of mistake, what were
the secret workings of heart which issued in such a
course of conduct. The young man could not have been
an unconcerned spectator of the change that had passed
upon the character of his father. He saw the repentance
that came in the time of trouble, and the reformation
that followed repentance. Perhaps he thought his father
had acted rightly at last, and determined, when he should
grow old, to follow his father's example. He might silently
reason within himself, *' My father enjoyed the world to
the full while he was young, and turned over a new leaf
THE THREE KINGS. 345
when he was growing old : in this way he made the
most of it. He enjoyed the pleasures of sin while he
was able to enjoy them, and yet made himself safe at
last, by repenting before he died." Amon, having in his
breast a heart deceitful above all things and desperately
wicked, may have secretly resolved to do as his father
had done, — to live in sin as long as he could enjoy it,
and then by a sudden repentance secure his safety before
he should be called away.
It is likely that he would not have repented although his
life had been prolonged to fourscore, — it is likely that he
would have grown more and more hardened till the last;
but the opportunity of repenting in old age was not given
to him. " His servants conspired against him, and slew
him in his own house." Ah, what horrors lie hid under
the folds of that short sentence ! At the age of twenty-
four, with a heart abandoned to evil, and the resources of
a kingdom at his command, Amon was drinking the cup
of pleasure without restraint, putting off the thought of
repentance till he should grow old. As those who live for
their own pleasure are generally unkind to their inferiors,
it is probable that Amon was hated by his attendants.
These attendants, unable longer to endure their master,
watched their opportunity, rushed upon him within his
own palace, probably when he was asleep, and murdered
him in a moment. King Amon lay down wearied with
one day's sin, in order that he might get his strength re-
stored for another. He lay down to sleep in Time, and
awoke from that sleep in Eternity! Ah, who shall con-
346 THE THREE KINGS.
ceive the man's amazement, when he Hfted up his eyes,
and saw the great white throne ! It is well that our eye
cannot follow the guilty to the judgment-seat of God.
The sight would be too dreadful : it would overwhelm
us. A veil has in mercy been thrown over the scene.
God keeps its secrets to himself. The wicked are like
the chaff which the wind driveth away.
III. " The people of tJie land made Josiah his son king
in his steady — The murderers were punished with death,
and the son of the slaughtered king, though an infant,
was peaceably seated on his father's throne. Josiah was
a child of eight years old when he was acknowledged
king. Whether he became king immediately after the
death of his father, or a few years afterwards, we do not
know. Either in the eighth year of his life, when he was
crowned, or in the sixteenth year of his life, when he had
reigned eight years, he began to seek after the God of
David his father. Four years after his first decided
personal dedication to the service of God, he took cour-
age to begin a thorough reformation of his kingdom.
Both in the capital and throughout the country he de-
stroyed all the machinery of idolatry, and established
again the worship of the true God. His religion began
early, and continued to the last. His reign of thirty-one
years was a time of spiritual refreshing in Judah, and his
memory is fragrant even to this day. For more than two
thousand years Josiah's name has been a household word
among all who fear God, as an example of youthful piety
THE THREE KINGS. 347
i,i the high places of the earth. It is not a httle remark-
able that among the sovereigns of England, who person-
ally administered the kingdom, the youngest was the
best The memory of Edward VI., the boy kmg,
stands high above all the rest for a savour of godlmess.
It is difficult to reach and maintain a character of true
piety in the highest ranks of society, bat not more diffi-
cult than in the lowest. Here and there one has appeared
on either extreme,-evidence that all things are possible
with God. Well may we pray. " Give me neither poverty
nor riches ; " but when either is given, we need not be
afraid. " My grace is sufficient for thee."
When a train is running along the rails in the dark,
the driver keeps a sharp look-out forward. If he see a green
li.ht he slows, and creeps cautiously forward, ready at
any moment to stop ; if he see a red light, he pulls up at
once, and either goes back or stands still until the danger
is removed : it is when a bright white light is held out
that he goes confidently, quickly forward on his journey.
The case of Manasseh, held aloft before our eyes in
the Bible, is like the green light, and means " Beware
He who passed this way nearly perished. He was saved
so as by fire. In this path of late repentance one here
and there succeeds in clearing the pitfall, but the greater
number perish. The case of Amon is like the red light,
and calls for instant turning. He who tried to pass this
way perished miserably. "Turn ye. turn ye; why wiU ye
die ." The case of Josiah, following the Lord fully from
348 THE THREE KINGS.
childhood to age, is like the white light of safety beaming
on the path. Forward fearlessly in that line ; the path
is pleasant, and the issue safe.
Take now, one by one, the chief lessons that lie in the
life of these three kings ; four separate lessons, one on
each of the three separately, and one on all combined.
I. From the experience of Manasseh, there, is no limit
to the mercy of God. No mountains of transgression rise
so high that this flood cannot cover them. Sinners the
chief are welcome to pardon immediate and complete.
Although the prodigal has wasted all in riotous living, let
him but arise and go to his Father, and he will be received
without upbraiding. This blessed truth, which has existed
from the beginning, has in gospel times been more fully
made known. "The blood of Jesus Christ, God's Son,
cleanseth us from all sin." The same blood of the Lamb
which is necessary to wash away an infant's sin, is suffi-
cient to free the hoariest sinner on earth from every spot
and wrinkle. No human being, of whatever age or
character, has cause to hesitate and hold back, when he
is inclined to repent, from any fear of being unwelcome.
If windows were open in Scripture only where we might
see such men as Samuel and Daniel and John, standing
before the throne in white clothing, we would be cast
down — down even to despair. We would not dare to
hope that such as we are could be admitted to the
society of saints. If we saw only great saints getting in,
we who are great sinners would lose heart. But when
we see Manasseh, and men like him, going in and made
THE THREE KINGS. 349
welcome, there is hope for us. If we follow their steps
in repentance, we shall be permitted to join their com-
pany in rest.
A sad lesson seems to lie here under the shade of the
more cheering one. It is this : The son of Manasseh
fell in with his father's wickedness, but could not turn
with his father when he turned to the Lord, Oh, be-
ware of giving an evil example to the young ! for even
though you should repent and turn to the Lord, you
may not be able to lead those with you in your repent-
ance who followed you in your sin.
2. From Amon's case learn that a deceitful heart
turns even the grace of God into a snare. " Because
sentence against an evil work is not executed speedily,
the heart of the sons of men is fully set in them to do
evil." If, by observing that an old sinner is forgiven
when he repents, you are encouraged to refuse repent-
ance in your youth, you lose your own soul, and your
blood will be upon your own head. As Manasseh's case
is recorded in the Bible that an aged sinner desiring to
return may not be cast into despair, Amon's case is re-
corded beside it that the young may be warned not to
delay an hour lest they perish in their sins. Here the
lesson is written as if with the blood of that murdered
youth : " Now is the accepted time ; now is the day of
salvation." If the young refuse to come to Christ now,
because they have heard that people may be converted
after they are old, they may be cut off unforgiven, with-
out a warning note, without a moment's respite.
350 THE THREE KINGS.
But further, the conception which is the groundwork of
that delay is false from the root. It is the conception
that to come near to God, and be reconciled through the
blood of the Lamb, and to walk with God in spirit here,
before we go to see him as he is — the conception that all
this is a dreary penance to be endured, and therefore to
be avoided as long as possible. Thus it is that the car-
nal mind is enmity against God. The whole life of the
carnal gives the lie to God's gracious word.
3. Josiah chose the best part. He took his side in
childhood, and was supported all his days in the arms of
the mighty God of Jacob. I think we never fully recog-
nize the advantage of taking the Lord's side in youth.
We are so much occupied with that other truth, very
precious and very pressing — that the oldest and the
hardest may come — that we are apt to overlook the
blessedness of coming early. Some of the advantage is
obtained in time, but more will emerge in eternity. The
birth-pains are comparatively easy in youth. True it is
— and God be praised for the truth — a man can be born
when he is old ; but this implies many rendings, and it
leaves many scars. The child-disciples escape many
memories that torment those who have given their early
life to sin. I cannot but think that even heaven is hap-
pier to those who have never known the depths of Satan.
4. Neither grace nor gracelessness goes by blood. We
will not be saved by our parents' goodness, and we can-
not be cast away because of their badness. Every one
must give an account of himself to God. There are, in-
THE THREE KINGS. 351
deed, advantages and disadvantages, greater than we can
measure, in the education and example afforded to chil-
dren at home ; but this, though an influential, is not the
decisive point. They who enjoy the greatest home
privilege may abuse it ; and they who enjoy no such
privilege may yet walk with God while they live, and go
to be with him when they die. These two cognate
lessons are plainly contained in this history : First, a
converted father cannot secure the safety of an uncon-
verted son ; and, second, an unconverted father cannot
drag down a child in his fall, if that child has for himself
taken the Lord for his God. The one lesson is fitted to
make the presumptuous humble, the other to give the
desponding hope. Each one stands by himself " The
soul that sinneth, it shall die." " Believe on the Lord
Jesus Christ, and thoit shalt be saved."
The shadow of these spiritual things is cast clearly
upon the face of nature. A tree once wild and barren has
been grafted at length, and is now a good tree, bearing
good fruit. This is Manasseh. From the seed of that tree
a young tree springs ; but it grows up wild and barren :
if it is not ingrafted too, it will be hewn down and cast
into the fire. This is Amon. Once more : although that
second tree remained evil and was cut down, a tree
springs from its seed ; and that tree, grafted when young,
becomes a good tree. This is Josiah.
There remains yet the further lesson, spread over all
the three examples — that striking providences and afflic-
tions are effective instruments in God's hand for conver-
352 THE THREE KINGS.
sion. It is not that these strokes generate the new life :
it is the seed of the Word, buried in a broken heart, out
of which the new hfe springs ; but the strokes of God's
hand are used to break up the way for the entrance of
the Word, and to bruise a bed for it where all was stone
before.
The affliction that came upon Manasseh became the
means of the change in his heart. Had he not been
taken in the thorns and carried away as a captive, he
would not have turned to the Lord. For ever and for
ever will Manasseh, as a saint in rest, weave these thorns
into a psalm of praise. Thorns of more species than one
will go into the songs of the upper sanctuary. Thorns
in the field, that prevented the soldiers from using their
weapons, and thorns in the flesh, that acted as Satan's
messengers to buffet God's saints, will both be acknow-
ledged as instruments used by the Sovereign Spirit in
preparing a people for the Lord. Let us endeavour to
be patient when thorns prick us : they are the hedges
which God has planted to keep us in the way of life ;
they will become a wreath of victory in the great day.
" Tribulation worketh patience ; and patience, experi-
ence ; and experience, hope ; and hope maketh not
ashamed."
(M
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