INVALUABLE IN THE STUDY.
The Biblical Illustrator;
OB
Anecdotes, Similes, Emblems, and Illustrations, Expository, Scientific,
Geographical, Historical and Homileiic.
Gatibefed from a wide range ot Home and Fdreign Ltteratttfey
on the verses of the Bible, by the
Rev. JOSEPH S. EXELL, M.A.
R«7al OetaT*. Cleth. each about 659 pages, per VolaoM, $2.00.
"Ko matter how full his library may be, nor how empty his
pocket-book, the minister who s^es this work will want it."— Observer.
"It promises to be the most useful cyclopedia for ministers is-
sued as yet" — Christian.
"Every volume is profusely treated and explained verse by verse,
with apposite, varied and suggestive extracts from a vast number
of ancient and modern authors. The meaning of v/ords, the lessons
deducible from the text, the doctrine it teaches, the duty it enjoins,
pithy remarks of commentators and other writers upon it, and an*
ecdotea with which to enforce its teachings follow each verse. . .
The author has put the condensed substance of many commentaries
In one, giving the resulte reached by many learned experts."— If efTi-
94i4t Rwi^te.
"There Is little or no exposition, properly so called, but an abun-
dant citation of the opinions of men called forth by the inspired
writers. In this respect the book is unique." — Chriatian Intelligencer.
OLD TESTAMENT VOLUMES:
Gbitssis, Vol. x.
I. and II
Chronicles, Isatah. Vol. I: i-xxx.
Gbnbsis. Vol. 2.
Ezra, Nehemiah a.nd Jeremiah. Vol. I: i-xxii.
Exodus.
Esther.
Jeremiah, Vol. II: xxiii-
Leviticus an9 Numbehs.
Proverbs.
lii.
Deuteronomy.
The Psalms, Vol. I: i- Minor Prophets, Vol. I.
Joshua. Judges and Ruth.
Mvi.
Minor Prophets, Vol. IL
, NEW TESTAMENT VOLUMES;
St. Matthew.
Philippians and CoLeesiAMs.
8t. Mark.
THE5«8AL0NIANS.
St. Lwkb, Vol. 1.
First Timothy.
St. Luke, Vou 2.
Second Timothy, Trros, and
St. Luke, Vol. 3.
Philemon.
St. John, Vol. 1.
Hebrews, Vol. 1.
St. John, Vol. 2.
Hebrews, Vol. 2.
St. John, Vol. 3.
3^AMES.
Acts, Vol. 1.
First Corinthians, Vol. 1.
Acts, Vol. 2.
First Corinthians, Vol. 2.
Acts, Vol. 3.
Second Corinthians.
Romans, Vol. L
First and Second Peter.
Romans. Vol. 2.
First, Second and Third John,
Galatianb.
and Judb.
Epheslans.
Revelation.
Index Volume to Entire New Testament, $5.00.
8m4 for •ur eireular gidtig special offers.
FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY
NBV YORK: 158 Fdth. Avtouz CHICAGO: 80 Wabash Avenue
TORONTO LONDON EDINBURGH
THE ^<l$iCGiGAL__^
Biblical Illustrator
09i
Anecdotes, Simfles, Emblems, Illustrations;
Expository, Scientific, Geographical, His-
torical, and Homiletic, Gathered from
a Wide Range of Home and Foreign
literature, on the Verses of the Bible
BY ,
Riv. JOSEPH S. KXELL, M.A.
SJINT MJRK
New York Chicago Toronto
Fleming H. Revell Company
London anb Edinburgh
INTBODnonON TO THE GOSPEL OF ST. MARK.
loBMAnoii or SHI Go8RU.-~Ghriit oar Lord wii the great labjeet of the teaoh-
tngoltheapoetlea. Th^j began, generallj speaking, m we lee them in the il6<«o/tA«
ApoitUit with His resurrection from the dead; they knew His resorreotion to be
efleeted, from personal ezperienoe; and bj saying over and oyer again that they
had seen Him risen, they earned eonTiction at last to the minds of their hearers.
Then they went on to deseribe His onxoifizion, and its wonderful meaning for the
lost taee of man. Besides this, they appear to haye repeated, in a simple way,
what th^ had seen onr Lord do, and had heard TTim say, during the years of their
companionship with Him,->thas giving, indirectly, bnt most folly, a complete im-
pression of His character. And here, as it seems, we have the true account of the
way in which the experience came to be written. Looking to the composition of
the Gospels, looking to their stmctnral method, it is hardly probable that each
evangelist sat down one day to write his narrative straight off, as a modem writer
might sit down to write a book from memory, or oat of the contents of old dooa-
ments lying before him. The Gospels are evidently made np of the contemporary
preaching of the apostles, and their difference in method and style is largely to be
aocoanted for by the difference in the andienees the apostles addressed. St. Matthew ,
BO doabt, preached in Jadea, and to popalations who required, first of all, to be satis-
fled that Jesas corresponded to the Messiah of prophepy ; hence his freqaent " that it
might be falfilled which was spoken of the Lord by the prophet." St. Mark takes
Botes from the preaching of St Peter to audiences which were still Jewish, but
more in contact than those of Judea with the Greek and Boman world. St Luke
grouped together those features of our Lord's work and teaching, which were
repeated agam and again in the cities of Greece and Asia Minor, as illustrating the
aspects of the redemption especially insisted on l>y St PauL St John supplies
what earlier narratives had omitted ; in his Gospel we have the record of a teach-
ing addressed to the populations, whether at Ephesus or elsewhere, deeply in-
fluenced by Alexandrian modes of thought. The Gospels, as we have them, grew
out of the oral teaching of the apostles, and were reduced to writing, to order, to
qrstem, either (as in the case of the first and the last) by the apostles themselves,
or (as in that <A the other two) by persons in their confidence. This will explain
differences of order in the narratives, the repetitions, the expansions, even some of
the apparent discrepancies. The Gospels are not systematised narratives; they
are collections of popular instructions on the birth, work, words, death, resurrection,
and ascension of onr Lord Jesus Christ, addressed by those who had lived with
Bim from His baptism to His ascension, to the various populations whose con-
version OK edification they were engaged in promoting. {Canon Liddon,)
Tbs Obal Aim TBI WuTTBH GospxLB.— We may fairly take the following eoncln-
sions as established. That the apostles of Christ felt it to be their main duty topr«ac/i
Christ not to write about Him ; that they were disposed to speak rather than to
write, by character, by habit, by all the influences of their time and race;. That
tonaeqaently, the original Gospel was rather an oral tradition than a written book:
»i INTRODUCTION TO THE GOSPEL OF ST. MARK,
That this oral tradition was kUtorie, setting forth in a lively and natural way the
tilings which Jeans said and did : That it was the theme and sabstanoe of their Dis-
eonrsea and of their Epi^es : That the constant delivery of this oral Gospel was a
Divine expedient for teaching them what of all they remembered oonoeming Ghrisi
was most potent on the hearts and minds of men, and so for securing a more per-
fect written Gospel when the time for writing had oome : That in the four written
Gospels — four and yet one — we have a record of the deeds and words of Christ in
the follest accord with the message originally delivered by the apostles : And that
whosoever believes in the blameless life and beneficent ministry of CShrist, in Hia
death for onr sins, and in His resurrection as the crowning proof of life everlasting,
holda a true and adequate GospeL {8, 0*m /) p.)
GoflPSL AKD QofiPXLfl. — ^It IS a matter of interest and signifloanoe that, in tha
biblical records, we have not only gotpel but Oo$peli, We have gotpelt running
like a golden thread through the whole Bible, connecting history, precept, proverb,
prophecy, and binding the entire constituents of ** the volume of the Book '* into
unity. We should certainly have had no Bible at all had there been no go$pel.
But in particular portions of the progressive revelation the golden gospel line
becomes doubled as it were, or trebled, or multiplied in some still higher ratio.
Tha whole texture of certain paragraphs or large sections gleams and glows with
gapel. Such are the Messianic Psalms. Such is the fifty-third chapter of Isaiah.
And tuch, of course, are the four Gospels of the New Testament. The gotpel ia so
efflorescent in these QotpeU that the lovers of the Bible have, from a very early
period of the Christian era, agreed to oall them, *par azoellenoo,' th» QotptU.
{Jama MoruoUt jD.D.)
Obioinb.— People are eager to hear about the latest excavations at Pompeii and
Herculaneum, cities on the slopes of Vesuvius, which were destroyed (before the
end of St. Paul's life) in k,i>, 63. The Gospel documents are of more oonsequence
than Pompeii and Herculaneum. They, too, have been dug out, in a sense, almost
within the memory of man. History is the field of their excavation. The ashes
of exploded theories — ^the lava-streams of controversy and dogma — ^have, in times
past, submerged the origin of the New Testament ; indeed, I think they have
scarcely cooled down yet, for the angiy subsoil still smoulders with theological
rancour whenever it is stirred. Still, there is at length a set resolve on the part
of the people to get at what lies beneath the surface. The Christian world of the
nineteenth century is asking — ^not what it is possible to induce people to believe
about the Christian records of the first and second centuries, chief among which
stand the four (Gospels — but what is true. Now, what is true is, to some extent,
eertaifdy known, and may, to some extent, be probably inferred. We must trans-
port ourselves in imagination to Jerusalem in the first century ; we must follow the
written rills of narrative, then the oral freshets of tradition wherever we come upon
them; we must take our divining-rod of sound historical criticism and mark
jealously the spots where the living streams g^^sh forth ; we must follow the direction
th^ take, until, in a few short years, they are seen to converge and swell into the
Gospel rivers of Matthevo^ Mark, Luke, and John, The Crucifixion took plaoe
about A.i>. 83, in the reign of Tiberias CsBsar — up to that time there is no trace of a
written Gospel. The Acts give a retrospect from 83 to about 63 when Nero's mon*
strous reign was drawmg to a close. The main oints stand out with considerable
distinctness. We note the Church's comparative peace — the rise of persecution, the
first martyrdom, the first imprisonments, the gr wing differences between the old
Jews and the Jndeo-Chxistians — between the Jndeo-Ohristians like James of
Jemsalem, and the Greek and Boman Christians like Paol and his followen. BtOl
ftlMra ii BO written GoepeL St. Paul soonrs the Meditenaneaa from 64 to e7-tt|
INTRODUCTION TO THE GOSPEL OF 8T, MARK. vB
foimdB his ehnrohes in Asia Minor and at Borne, writes his Epistles, and disappean
about 68-9. Still there is no written Gospel. Meanwhile, what was going on at
Jenisalem 7 . . . . Early in 68 the little hand of Christians fled to the moontaini
beyond Jordan, and settled on the other side of the Peraea hills, at Pella. ....
Shall we look once more and for the last time npon the faces of that saintly gnmp
— upon the aged mother of our Lord — upon Lazarus, perchance upon Nicodemns,
Nathaniel, Joseph of Arimathea, and the Marys who ministered unto Jesus in
the days of His earthly career r Some, if not all, of these, must have been among
the refugees at Pella. Undoubtedly they had the evangelic tradition — chaste
guardians of the sacred relics, second founders of Christianity — and all who wished
to know about Jesus would make a pilgrimage to visit these holy personages, around
whose heads the aureole was already beginning to gather. Apostles and evangelists
must have been there — ^remnants of the twelve and of the seventy sent out two and
two— and Peter must have paid his farewell visit, previous to his departure for
Italy. Matthew may have been there more than once when collecting materials for
a Gbspel, or perchance the Loffia^ " sayings," of Christ which went by his name. O
far-off light that for ever hangs over those distant Peraean hills t O heavenly
radiance that for ever rests upon those saintly faces I 0 distant voices still echoing
down the ages, ye will be for ever dear and sacred to all who love the Divine
Master ! Truly as we follow in imagination that little group of obscure Jews, in
that lonely mountain village, we can almost see the springs of evangelic history
bubbling up from the virgin soil, a thousand little rills of tradition flowing from
those distant hills, until they find their congenial channels, and flow forth to line
with their four silver streaks the whole field of future history. From mouth to
mouth were the words and deeds of Jesus passed by the Christian exiles of Pella.
The little forms of oft-repeated words (bunches of sentences) would have a ten-
dency to fix themselves. The most happy and expressive would be apt to suffer but
little variation, but no one would be in a hurry to write them down — ^what is deeply
engraved upon the heart need not be written. We do not write down our eentral
thoughts for fear of forgetting them ; but we are ready to repeat them at any time.
As one after another Evangelist or Apostle passed out into the world to teach, he
might bear with him little ** forma of sound words ** ; the oft-repeated sentences
would doubtless get written down in time, especially when Epistles came to be sent
round. Between the years 66 and 70 there were probably a great many of these groups
of evangelic sentences — acts, incidents of Christian life — ^floating about all over Asia
Minor, along the line of Paul's great missionary voyages. Not a Jewry from
Jerusalem to Borne (and, even before the dispersion of the Jews, little Jewish
quarters were to be found in most Greek and Boman cities) but would have some
bunches of sayings, miracles, parables, anecdotes, episodes in the life of Jesus. . . .
At onoe we see that dislocated fragments of the same, or similar, utterances have
been in the hands of the different compilers, sometimes with a context, sometime^;
without ; that selections more or less appropriate have been made, according to the
method, opportunity, capacity, or even literary taste, or absence of literary taste, in
the sacred oompUer. {H. R, Hawei»t M.A.)
Thx Stnoptio Gospxls.— The writers of the first three Gospels deal in the main
with the same parts of our Lord's life-history, and hence their writings may be
read side by side for illustration of each other. For t is reason these Gospels have
been called tynoptie^ t.«., comprehended in one view. They narrate events which
took place for the most part in Galilee and the lands jacent thereto, and speak of
no visit made by Jesus to Jerusalem, except that fin 1 one, which was terminated
by the Crucifixion. For the history of His other vi ts to the Holy City, we have
only the aoooonts given in the Gospel of St. John. The qneetioB arises. How ean
4his similarity be aeoonnted for r And how, with much similarity, does it
▼ffl JHTBODUCTION TO THE Q08PSL OF 8T. MARK.
topsMfhatihertftrBiaehgrMtdifferenoMt Pint of all, fhe raMmblAnoM an ■»
rnanj and so eloae, that we moat admit at onea, in apita of the different anaoga-
ment of the materials, that what we are reading waa in some way drawn bj tha
three erangelista from a oommon aooroe. Bat tha differenoea in their narratitea
are also rerj striking. In those portions which are most oompletely oommon to all
three, eaoh writer omits some things and adds others which give a special character
to his Tersion of the Gospel history. Compare, e.g., the three accounts of tha
Transfiguration. In the seven or eight verses devoted to this event by each
evangelist, the great lines of the picture are the same in aU. Tet St. Matthew
alone tells of the shining of the face of Jesus, and that He touched the disciples
to rouse them after the vision was over. It is St. Mark alone who compares tha
whiteness of the Lord's raiment to snow, and adds the graphic detaU, "so aa no
fuller on earth ean white them " ; while St. Luke is the only one who records that
the visit to the mount of Transfiguration was made for the purpose of private
prayer; that Moses and Elias, in their discourse, spake of our Lord's approaching
Passion ; and that the disciples of Jesus were overcome by sleep. Yet amid these
and other minor variations, what we may term the salient points of the historyt
the expression of St. Peter that it was good to be there, and the words spoken by
the heavenly voice, ara in such close accord that they might be supposed, if
standing alone, to have been drawn from the same document, or at all events, to be
different close translations of the same originaL Hence some have suggested an
original Gospel in Aramaic, as a means of accounting for such exact agreement
where it exists. But such near resemblances are but few in each section of tha
common story, while the variations are numerous. We cannot, therefore, believe
that the form of the synoptic Gospels is to be explained by supposing that the
writers had some eonunon materials from which to translate. And in the setting
(as we may name it) of the events which he relates, each evangelist differs so much
from his fellows, that it is impossible to conceive that any of the three made, after
any sort, a copy from the others. We are therefore driven to consider the way in
which the Gospel narrative was first published, to see if that may help us to an
explanation. The first converts heard Christ's life-history by word of mouth. After
the day of Pentecost the apostles and disciples went forth preaching, but did not
at once set about writing a Gospel. As they preached, they would tell, now of one
phase of the Lord's words and works, and now of another, aa best suited their
purpose, adding such exhortations as seemed needful. That this was so we can see
from Aet$, When the hearers of these first Christian sermons became interested,
that which they would most desire to remember would be what the Master had said
and done. Of these things narratives would from time to time be written ; bat aa
the speakers would not always in the same account preserve exactly the same
phraseology, it is easy to see how narratives might bec<Kne current, varying, within
ceitain limits, in their words. The chief matters, and those on which lessons
were to be specially founded, would be kept always very much the same, but the
rest of the diction might be modified in various ways. The variations which
appear in parallel portions of these three Gospels are just such as oral teaching,
oft repeated, might be expected to exhibit ; for we should bear in mind that the oral
tradition of the Gospel history was different from any other oral tradition with which
we are acquainted. It was not the transmission of a narrative through different
mouths, and at distant intervals of time ; it was a repetition, by the same persons,
of the same story, almost day by day. And thus, from the preaching of tha
apostles, resulted the close resemblances in the separate histories of Jesus. The
Gospels, in their variety and in their simplicity, are a true picture of what the lint
teachers must have spoken ; and the differences which we thus accept, in the
language used by those who were eye-witnesses of Christ's life, and fitted by His
Spirit to be miniatem of the Word, are not without their lesson. They tel'T
INTBODUaTIOH TO THE GOSPEL OF 8T. MABK, ii
•f imitj, Imt ihow that uifonnity if bj no meani neeeiiuy thereto. (/. R,
f.D.I>.)
BsLinov TO St. Mitthsit ahd St. Luxb.— The Oospelg of St Mark and St.
Matthew have so mnoh in common, sometimes with eaoh other only, sometimes
with St. Lake also, that it i clear that they mast have drawn more or less from a
common scarce. Nothing however, can be more against the whole tenor of
internal evidence than the hypothesis that St. Mark epitomised from St. Matthew,
or that St. Matthew expanded from St. Mark. The narrative of the second (Gospel
is in almost every instance fuller than that of the first, and its brevity is obtained
only by the absence of the discoarses and parables which occupy so Uurge a portion
of the other. On either of these assumptions the perplexing variations in the
order of events are altogether inexplicable ; comp. e.g.. Matt. viii. with Mark i.
4, 6. What is, with our canty data, the most probable explanation is, that the
matter common to both r presents the substance of the instruction given orally to
disciples in the Churoh of Jerusalem and other Jewish-Christian communities
coming, directly or indire tly, under the influence of St. Peter and St. James, as
the apostles of the Cir umcision (Gal. ii. 9). The miracles that had most
impressed themselves on the minds of the disciples, the simplest or most striking
parables, the narratives of the Passion and Kesurrection, would naturally make up
the main bulk of that instruction. St. Matthew, the publican apostle, conversant
with clerkly cultnre, writii g for his own people, closely connected with James, the
Bishop of Jerusalem, wou d naturally be one exponent of that teaching. St. Mark,
the disciple and ** interpreter," or secretary, of St. Peter, would as naturally
be another. That they wrote independently of each other is seen, not only
in the addition of new facts, the graphic touches of description, but from
variations which would b inexplicable on any other assumption ; such, e.g., as
Mark's Dalmanutfia for Matthew's Magdala, Syro-Phatnieian woman for Canaanite,
Levi, the mm of Alphmu, fo. Matthew. Short as the Gospel is, too, there is one
parable in it (iv. 26-29), and one miracle (vii. 31-87), which are not found in St.
Matthew. It is remarkable, moreover, that there are some incidents which St.
Mark and St. Luke have in common, and which are not found in St. Matthew : that
of the demoniac in chap. i. *3-27 ; Luke iv. 83-37 ; the journey through Galilee ;
the pursoit of the disciples ; the prayer of the demoniac ; the complaint of John
against one that oast oat devi s ; the women bringing spices to the sepulchre. Of
these phenomena we find a natural and adequate explanation in the fact that the
two evangelists were, at least at one period of their lives, brought into contact with
each other (CoL iv. 10, 14 ; Pnilem. verse 24). It is probable that neither wrote his
Gospel in its present form mtil the two great apostles whom they served had
entered on their rest ; bat when they met each must have had the plan formed and
the chief materials collected, and we may well think of them as comparing notes,
and of the one, whose life hs^ led to less culture, and whose temperament disposed
him to record facts rather tlian parables or discourses, as profiting by his contact
with the other, and while content to adhere to the scope and method which he had
before marked out for himself, adding here and there what he learnt from his
fellow-worker whose ** praise was in the Gospel " (2 Cor. viii. 18). {Deam Pbtmptre.)
Thb Ssoond Gospxl Convibhs ths FmsT. — In those passages where St. Mark's
narrative coincides in substance and language with that of St. Matthew, he rarely
fails to introduce some slight ncident, marking his own minute personal acquaint-
ance with what he is relating. Consequently, he repeats St. Matthew, not because
he does not know, of his own individual knowledge, the truth of what he is writing,
but because he does know it ; and because he also knows that his predecessor St.
Mattkew has given a faithful account of it : and therefor f he adopts that aooonnt;
X INTRODUCTION TO THE GOSPEL OF ST. MARK,
and this adoption, by sneh • writer, is the strongest eonfirmation of the troth of
the narrative of St. Matthew which he adopts. Sarely this was a wise conrsa of
procedure. It was one that might well have been suggested to the evangelist St.
Mark by the Holy Spirit of truth. The Holy Ghost Himself had inspired th«
Evangelist St. Matthew, who had proved his love for Christ by leaving all for Hia
sake ; and who, as one of the chosen Twelve, was a constant companion of Christ,
and thus, in human respects, was a competent witness of His actions ; and who
received the supernatural effusion of the Holy Ghost on the day of Pentecost, and
was led by Him into all truth, and was enabled by Him to remember what Chn&i
had said to the apostles. Therefore the Gospel of St. Matthew was the work of the
Holy Ghost. Doubtless the Apostle St. Matthew was chosen by Divine providence,
on account of his personal graces and qualifications, as a fit instrument for the
work of an evangelist ; but in writing a Gospel for the perpetual edification of the
Church, he wrote as he was moved by the Holy Ghost, and accordingly his Gospel
has ever been acknowledged by the Spirit of Gk>d, speaking in the Church, and
receiving that Gospel as divinely-inspired Scripture. In like manner, St. Mark was
prepared for the work of an evangelist by human discipline and earthly oppor<
tunities ; but his Gospel is the work of the Holy Ghost. We should therefore be
taking a low and erroneous view of the subject if we were to say that St. Mark
copied St. Matthew, or that the Holy Spirit transcribed any passage of a human
writer. The true statement of the case is this. The Holy Spirit, Who had been
pleased to choose and to employ the appropriate instrumentality of St. Matthew to
write the first of the four Gospels, chose also and employed the appropriate agency
of St. Mark for the work of an evangelist ; and by his instramentality He vouch-
safed to repeat some portions of that sacred message which He, the same Spirit,
had been pleased to deliver by St. Matthew ; and thus, by choosing fit instruments
for the work. He condescended to give such evidence of the truth of the Gtospel
as would be of weight with reasonable men, arguing on earthly premises and oon-
siderationa ; and at the same time by repeating in a second Gospel what He had
spoken in a preceding one, He imparted greater solemnity to what had been
uttered, and gave to the world the strongest assurance of its troth by this
reiteration, and showed by this specimen that though the Gospels written by St.
Matthew and St. Mark had not only a general design for the edification of all, bat
also a special purpose and peculiar direction — the one being intended particularly
for Jewish readers, the other specially for Bomans, and for a mixed society of
Gentiles and Jews ; yet that in substance, and also in great measure in letter, there
is one and the same Gospel for aU. This process of repetition is by no means
derogatory to the dignity of the Holy Spirit. On the contrary, it is one of the
characteristics of Inspiration. It pervades the whole volume of Bevelation. It is
a consequence of the dignity of the subject, and of the love of God, who desires to
afford the clearest proofs of the troth of what He delivers, and of its nnspeakable
importance to man. {Bishop Christopher Wordsworth,)
TiTLB. — ^The Gospel ascribed to St. Mark was neither by himself, nor by the
subsequent compilers of the New Testament canon, designated the Qospel ** of** Mark.
The word gospel was not specifically employed, in the time of the evangelists, to
denote a particular kind of book or biography. It had a more generic import. It
meant good news ; and just because it had that meaning, it was specially applied by
Christians to the best of all good news, the news regarding Jesus Christ as the
Divine Saviour of sinners. Hence the united compositions of the four evangelists
were often, in the post-apostolic ages, called collectively the Qospel, And each
evangelical record in particular was the gospel * according to** the particular evan-
gelist who compiled it. The gospel in each case was on«, '* the gospel of Jesns
Christ, the Bon of God *' (Hark i. 1) ; bat it was that jne gospel nndar the pecoliaf
INTRODUCTION TO THE GOSPEL OF ST. MARK, si
phase of a particnlar biographical presentation. Hence the phrase " according to."
It is not, as some have contended, precisely equivalent to " o/," for the gospel waa
not regarded as an emanation from the mind of the writer. It was not, in its
essence, the product of any human compiler or composer ; bat, as delivered by the
evangelists, it assmned in its form as distinguished from its essence, a peculiar
phase in harmony with the size, shape, and symmetry of " the earthen vessels " in
which it was " handed out," that it might be " handed on." In the great majority
of manuscripts, the title of this Gospel is either substantially, or entirely, the same
as in our common English version. In the Syriac Philoxenian version the word
holy is introduced before the word Qospel^ and the phrase according to is merged :
the Holy Gospel of Mark. In the Syriac Peshito version there was an attempt,
though not remarkably felicitous, to do more justice to the idea suggested by the
preposition : the Holy Ootpel, the Announcement of Mark the Evangeliet, (/. Mori-
eon, D,D.)
Thk nams " Mask." — Marcus or Mark was a Latin name, and became a common
Latin prcenomen, as, for instance, ** Marcus " Tullius Cicero. The diminutivd
Maroellus was a surname of the Glandian family. A distinguished member of that
family, Marcus Claudius Marcellus, defeated Hannibal at Nola. Cicero has an
oration " Pro Marco Marcello. " The Evangelist Mark, however, was, notwithstanding
his Latin name, a Jew. His entire Gospel bewrays his nationality, and breathes
the spirit of an Israelite who, though delivered from Jewish narrowness and bigotry,
was still ** an Israelite indeed." In the letter too, as well as the spirit of his com-
position, the mark of a Jewish mind is indelibly impressed. The reason why the
evangelist either assumed, or got imposed on him his Latin name, is now unknown ;
probably he found it convenient, when out in the wide world, to wear a Gentile
name. It might be even to himself, as well as to his friends, and to all with whom
he had to do, a significant badge, indicating that he was now a Christian cosmo-
politan. {J. Moriton, D.D.) The name of Mark is by some supposed to be
derived from the Latin '* marcus," a hammer ; not ** marcellus," a little hammer,
but " marcus," a strong hammer, able to crush the flinty rock, and thus indicative
of the spiritual power wielded by the evangelist, and enabling him to break the
stony hearts of the Gentiles, and to rouse them to penitence and faith and a holy
life. (Dean Biekenteth.)
AuTHOB John Mark was the son of one Mary, who dwelt at Jerusalem. There
he was probably bom (Acts xii. 12). He was the cousin of Barnabas (Col. iv. 10).
The theory that he was one of the seventy disciples has no warrant. His mother
seems to have been a person of some means and influence, and her house a ralljing-
point for Christians in those dangerous days. Her young son, already an inquirer,
would soon become more anxious to work for Christ. He went with Paul and Bar-
nabas as their ** minister" on their first journey; but at Perga he turned back
(Acts xii. 25; xlii. 13). On the second journey St. Paul would not accept him again
as a companion, but Barnabas his kinsman was more indulgent ; and thus he
became the cause of the memorable sharp contention between them (Acts. xv. 36-40).
Whatever were the reasons for Mark's infirmity of purpose, they did not separate
him for ever from Paul, for we find them together at Bome (Col. iv. 10; Philem. 24).
St Paul speaks of a possible journey of Mark to Asia. Somewhat later he is with
61 Peter at Babylon (1 Peter v. 13). Of this journey we have no more evidence ;
of its date, causes, results, we know nothing. It may be conjectured that Mark
journeyed to Asia Minor (Col. iv. 10), and thence went on to join Peter at Babylon.
On his return to Asia he seems to have been with Timothy at Ephesus when Paul
wrote to him, during his seoond imprisonment, and Paol was anxious for his return
to Bome (2 Tizn. iv 11). (Arehbp. Wm, Thomson.) According to the testimony
xii INTRODUCTION TO THE GOSPEL OF ST. MARK,
ot St. Jerome, St. Mark wrote a short Gospel at Borne, at the reqaMt of tht
brethren there ; and St. Peter, when he had heard it, approved of it, and appointed
it to be read in the churches by his authority. St. Jerome says, further, that St
Mark took this Gospel and went into Egypt ; and, being the first preaoner of Cbiial
at Alexandria, established a Church with so much moderation of doctrine and of
life, that he constrained all those who had opposed Christ to follow his example.
Eusebius states that he became the first bishop of that Church, and that the cate-
chetical school at Alexandria was founded under his authority. It is further stated
that he ultimately died a martyr's death at Alexandria. But the evidence upon this
latter point is not sufficiently trustworthy. Tradition says that the body of St.
Mark was translated by certain merchants from Alexandria to Venice, a.d. 827,
where he was much honoured. The Venetian Senate adopted the emblem of
St. Mark — the lion — for their crest; and when they directed anything to be done,
they aifirmed that it was by the order of St. Mark. {Dean Biekertteth,)
Mabk, thb CrnzBN.--John, alitu Mark, was essentially a man of towns. Id
early life he was known as John of Jerusalem ; he was at one time a dose adherent
of Paul, and to the end, notwithstanding their early differences of opinion, he
remained in the eyes of that Apostle to the Gentiles profitable to the ministry.
Later in life he was known as Mark of Bome, where tradition declares him to haye
been the near friend and secretary of Peter, the substance of whose teaching is
generally admitted to be set down in Mark's Gospel, which was written from
memory after Peter's death. Mark's mother, Mary, seems to have been a person
in comfortable circimistances. The family lived at Jerusalem, and Mary's house
was much frequented by St. Peter and his adherents. It was probably the attrae-
tion of Mary's home, with its friendly circle of reformed Jews — ^its social gatherings
and stirring routine of city life— that attracted Mark, the citizen, when he left Paul
and Barnabas to plunge by themselves into the wild regions of Pamphylia and
Lycaonia. He attached himself to Peter. Peter never had Paul's passion for
travelling, though necessity drove him now and again up and down Palestine, and,
in all probability, once at least — and once too often — to Bome, where Mark was
still his faithful companion. There he may have seen the last of Peter, omoified
head downwards; perhaps, too, of Paul—after his second trial before Nero—
beheaded outside Bome. He himself disappears, and makes no sign — leaving
behind him, however, a name associated with the greatest of the Jewish Apostles,
and with the greatest of all Apostles ; and a Gospel— derived from Peter— but not
untouched with the spirit of Paul. {H, R, HatoeiM, M,A.)
Date ov Publication.— It is not possible, at present, to determine the particular
year of the publication of this Gospel. Not even is it possible to determine the
decade of years within which the publication must have taken place. All is mere
conjecture regarding years and decades. Still there are certain data on which an
approximate date may be assigned. The succession of Patristic testimonies back
to Papias makes it certain that the Gospel was in existence, and well known, in the
first century. Since, moreover, it is all but certain that the John Mark of the AcU
was the writer of the Grospel, and since it is probable that he was quite " a young
man " at the time of the crucifixion, and consequently still young when he was
assumed by Paul and Barnabas as their ministerial attendant, we may reasonably
suppose that he would not defer the composition of his Crospel till he was over-
taken by extreme old age. If he did not, then we have something like a foothold
on which to reach some data for an approximate date. It is not likely, at all events,
that the composition of the Gospel would be deferred to a period Uter than the
year 70, the date of the overthrow of Jerusalem. Indeed, it is most unlikely thai
It would be de fenred till that period. If St. Mark was about twenty years of ■§§
UfTRODUCTION TO THE GOSPEL OF ST. MARK. xiil
At the time of the eraoifixlon, he would be nearly sixty about the year 70. Besides,
there seems to be, in the peculiar inter>stratifioation of the contents of chap. xiii.»
taken in conjunction with the statement in chap. ix. 1, eyidenoe on which we may,
with probability, support the conclusion that Mark, at the time he composed his
Gospel, connected in his mind, as a matter of ** private interpretation " and expec-
tation, the glorious personal appearing of our Lord with the anticipated destruction
of Jerusalem. The precise ** times and seasons " were not distinctly and minutely
onrolled to the eyes of evangelists and apostles. The prophetical perspective did
not show the length of the intervals that intervened along the path of the future,
and the inspired writers were consequently left, like the prophets of old, to search
** what and what manner of times " were referred to. This being the case, there
is, in the inter-stratification referred to, evidence that increases the probability that
the Gospel must have been written before the year 70. There is another incidental
item of evidence that leans and leads toward the same conclusion. Why should
the evangelist (chap. xv. 21) particularize the fact that Simon of Gyrene was the
father of Alexander and Ruftu f Obviously because Alexander and Bufus were
living at the time when the Gospel was published. Simon himself seems to have
been deceased. His identity is remembered by means of his surviving sons. He
would probably be in middle life, or beyond it, when he undertook his journey to
the city of his fathers to celebrate the passover. But it was "the beginning of
days " to him ; and not to himself only, it would appear, but to all his household.
His sons became men of mark in the Christian circle. It would, however, be quite
improbable and unnatural to go forward to a period near the close of the century
for the time of their prominence. A period before the destruction of Jerusalem is
far more likely to have been the season when they were conspicuous. At all events,
we could not, with the least shadow of probability, pass the terminating decades of
the first century and go over into the second. {J, Morison, D.D.)
Thx nnsT bxadbbb ov thb Gospel. — The position which St. Mark oeeupied in
relation both to St. Paul and St. Peter— his connection with the former being
resumed after a long interval — ^would make it probable that he would write with a
special eye to (Gentile rather than Jewish readers ; and of this the Gospel itself
supplies sufficient evidence in the full explanation of the customs of the Jews as to
ablutions and the like in vii. 3, 4, in the explanation of the word corban in vii. 11,
perhaps also in his description of "the river of Jordan" in i. 6. A closer study
suggests the thought, in full agreement with the traditional testimony, that he wrote
with a special view to Christians of the Roman Church. He alone describes Simon
the Cyrenian as the father of Alexander and Bufus (xv. 21), as though that fact
had a special interest for his readers. There is but one Bufus mentioned elsewhere
in the New Testament, and he meets us in Bom. xvi 18 as one who was prominent
enough in the church of that city for St. Paul to send a special message of remem-
brance to him ; and it may be inferred, with some likelihood, that the wife or widow
of Simon of Cyrene (having previously met St. Paul at Corinth, for some personal
knowledge is implied in the words ** his mother and mine ") had settled with her
two sons in the imperial city, and had naturally gained a position of some im-
portance. The very name of Marcue indicates some Latin affinities ; and it is notice-
able, in this connection, that a larger number of words Latin in their origin appear
in this Gospel than in any of the others. {Dean Plumptre.)
BsuLTioK or Tnis Gospel to St. Peteb.— The Holy Scripture teUs ni nothing
whatsoever respecting the writing of this Gospel. There is no preface to it fixing
its authorship, as in the case of St. Luke's Gospel, of the Acts, and of most of the
Epistles ; but if there be one single fact of the early Church more certain from the
united concurrence of all Church history than any other, it is that the composition
«!▼ INTRODUCTION TO THE GOSPEL OF ST. MARK.
of his Gospel was occasioned by, and closely connected with, St. Mark's intimaay
with St. Peter. Papias, Justin Martyr, Irenseas, Clement of Alexandria, Tertallian«
Origen, and Easebius are alike in their testimony on this. . . . They all testify to
the same fact, which is the entire dependence of St. Mark's Gospel on the preaching
of St. Peter. Most of them teach that it was an acoorate reprodaotion, and yet
there is sufficient discrepancy between them to show that they were not all derived
from the same source. The differences in the statements are principally upon the
matter of the extent of St. Peter's superintendence, from that of Origen, who telk ns
that St. Peter " guided " St. Mark in his composition, to that of one of the state«
ments of Clement, *' which when Peter understood, he directly neither hindered nor
encouraged it," — but this latter seems to refer rather to the publication than to the
writing. The contents fully bear out the external evidence for the Petrine origin of
this Gospel, for they present the extraordinary phenomenon of one who was
certainly not an eye-witness of the acts of the Lord, describing them as if he had
not only been an eye-witness, but a very observant one. It is a remarkable fact
that St. Mark's real Gospel, *.«., that which presents hia peculiarities of elose ob-
servance and faithfulness in minute detail, really commences with St. Peter's first
entrance into close companionship with the Lord, i.e., at chap. i. 18. Immediately
following upon this, we find a very detailed description of a miracle of the casting
out of an evil spirit in the synagogue, an account only found in Mark ; then the
going to Peter's house, and the healing of his wife's mother, present two or three
slight touches true to nature which are not in St. Matthew. Then the sojoom in
Peter's house is given with many details, which would not be preserved in a body
of tradition, but which would abide in a loving memory, such as that the Lord rose
up early, a great while before day, and went out to a solitary place to pray. Again,
in the beginning of the next chapter we have the healing of the sick of the palsy,
" borne of four," given with a fulness of incidental detail which is in extreme
contrast with the somewhat bare and hurried notice of the same in St. Matthew.
For another thing, St Mark more than any other Evangelist, notices the looks and
gestures of the Lord : He looked round about to see her that had done this thing ;
He beheld the rich young ruler, and loved him ; He looked round about upon His
disciples when He warned them of the danger of riches. Whether, then, we look
to the extraordinary unanimity in ecclesiastical records, or to the contents of the
Gospel, nothing can be more certain than that it is based upon the teaching and
preaching of St. Peter, and indeed reproduces it, so that we may adopt the worda ol
Tertullian : " The Gospel which Mark published may be affirmed to be Peter's,
whose interpreter Mark was," and of Origen, " Mark composed it as Peter guided him."
{M.F. Sadler ^M.A») Mark is more engaged with the acts than with the dis-
courses of our Lord. Why? Perhaps because the events struck Peter's mind forcibly,
but, being an uneducated man, his account of worda and speeches was somewhat
imperfect ; his memory for anything hke a sustained sermon was not good. But
the life of love was all in all to him. That he could not help remembering. One
act of mercy and pity and wonder is set down after another, until Mark's sacred
gallery is hung with vivid pictures, unconnected, indeed, with each other, but all
marked by the central presence of the same Divine Figure, who went in and out
amongst men doing good. Now it is the synagogue thronged with eager faees, but
the sermon has been forgotten ; or a house in Capernaum besieged by an impatient
crowd outside ; a poor creature, who could not be got in at the door, suddenly let
down in the midst of the astonished assembly, through the mud roof. Or it is
iUBset, after the heat of the day, in the sudden twihght, with the last red streak
dying out of the sky, the sick are brought on mats and laid about in the open streets
and bazaars, and the work of healing is prolonged by the glare of torches or the
dazzling light of the Syrian moon far into the night. It is ever the sweet and tender
nature of the Son of Man which impresses Peter, the ragged fisherman, and which
DiTBODUCTION TO THE GOSPEL OF ST. MARK. xi
if held ap before ns. The good Physician, who confined not His attention to the
■onl, bnt ministered also to the body ; the kind Jewish Babbi, who had a word ol
sympathy even for the Gentile woman, a friendly greeting for the oatoasta of the
oity, and a healing touch for the lepers. Aye, and Peter was touched, too,
■ympathetically by his Master's feelings ; he watched His looks, he caught the ebb
and flow of His Divine emotions. And Mark has set it aU down for as. He has
told OB how the beloved Teacher's eye flashed with anger upon those who wonld
have interfered with the core of palsied men; how He sighed deeply over the
■tnpidity and insensibility of His hearers, and at once set to work with some still
more simple parable ; how He could not bear to see any one suffer without hastening
to their relief ; and how He was moved with compass ion when He saw the poor
people dropping by the wayside with hunger and fatigue. Who, as he reads, might
not well lift up his eyes to heaven, and say, ** So would I have seen my Lord, so
would I have marked the mercy-posts of His earthly career, so would I have beheld
Him sigh and weep, and work and suffer, and pray for man, so may I even now
listen to the words of Him who spake as never man spake, as they drop from the
lips of the aged Peter, and are recorded for me by John Mark, his faithful interpreter
and friend." Too brief, but infinitely precious is that record — Mark, earliest and
most undogmatio of Gospels, yet containing all that it is vital for us to know about
Christianity. {H, B. Haweis^ M.A.) A question naturally suggests itself here.
If St. Mark's (Jospel was written under the inspection of St. Peter, and, as some
ancient writers have said, from his dictation, why was it not rather inscribed with
the name of that apostle ? Would it not have had greater weight, if it had borne
that namef Perhaps, with reverence be it said, the Holy Spirit may have intended
to teach some practical lessons by this arrangement. St. Mark is known from Holy
Scripture as '* the son " of St. Peter. The Gospel written by St. Mark's instru-
mentality has ever been regarded by the Church as having been composed under the
sanction and authority of his spiritual father. It may be considered virtually as
much the Gospel of St. Peter as if St. Peter's name were prefixed to it. It there-
fore, in fact, possesses the weight of that apostolic name. But the adoption of
another name in its title has its proper use and significance. It may be recognized
as a silent token of the humility of the Apostle St. Peter, not ambitious for the
exhibition of his own name in the eye of the world. Perhaps also he was of opinion
that, as one (Gospel had been already written by an apostle, St. Matthew, it might
be more conducive to the edification of the Church, if the next gospel were not
designated with the name of any of the apostolic body, lest it might be imagines!
by some that the graces of the Holy Ghost and the gift of inspiration were limitetl
to particular persons ; or that the apostles of Christ had a Gk>spel of their own,
which was not equally received by the whole body of believers. The Holy Spirit
might deem it expedient to employ St. Mark, who was not an apostle, in delivering
the same Gospel as had been preached by word of mouth and in writing by apostles,
in order to show the unity and universality of that Gospel ; and that it sigaifies
little who the organ is, by whom the Holy Ghost speaks, or who the instrument is,
by which He writes ; but that the main thing to be considered is, what is spoken
and wJiat is written, and from whom the message comes. Who is Paul f Who is
Apollos t Who is Cephas t Who is Mark ? but ministers, by whom ye believed, as
the Lord gave to every man. {Bishop Christopher Wordsworth,)
Plak. — Only the public ministry of Christ is here recorded. This is presented in
two portions — the first giving the whole ministry in Galilee to its close (chaps, i.-ix.),
and the second the last ministry in Jerusalem to the ascension (x.-xvi). In each of
these there are three parts. The first part of the first book is a brief introduction
to the whole, noticing the preaching of John, the baptism, and the temptation of
Christ. In the second part the ministry in Galilee is given, until the mission of the
Xfi INTRODUCTION TO THE GOSPEL OF 8T. MARK,
mpos&ei ; there being after the Mooant of ft few dayi in Oftpemanm, an Mooimt of
the first joam^ in Oalilee, when four diseiplea aooompanied their Lord ; and then
an aoconnt of a leoond joorney with the twelye apoitlea. Before thia ia related,
some aeoonnt ia given of the opposition of the Soribea and Pharieaea, whioh,
appearing immediately after the retom to Oapemaom from the first jonmey, was
renewed on other occasions. The mission of the twelve for a few weeks separates
the two parts of the ministry in Galilee ; the acooimt of the later period beginning
with the death of John the Baptist and the return of the apostles. At this time tha
increased opposition of the rulers led to many removals from Qalilee ; first to tha
other side of the lake, then to the GtontQes in the district near Tyn, and afterwards
to the country about CaBsarea Philippi. The occasions of these changes are related,
and some of ihe miracles and discourses which belonged to the different journeys.
The Transfiguration of Christ, at the close of this period, was one of a series of
events manifesting His glory, and foreshadowing His death. The second book
begins, after an interval of several months, with the last joomey to Jerusalem,
ohiefiyon the other side the Jordan. Here, too, the first part is introductory,
presenting in a series of incidents and discourses the lessons on self-denial and love
which our Lord gave the disciples when on the way; these lessons having respect
to family relations, to outward riches, and to worldly ambition. The next part
contains an account of the ministry of Ohrist when He oame to Jerusalem. Soma
important events are first given, and then a series of disoourses, controversial and
didactic, belonging to the first three days of the week ; which are followed by the
predictions spoken afterwards to a few of the apostles. The last part of the history
gives the humiliation and exaltation of Christ. Preceding preparatory events being
first recorded, the last evening with the disciples is then related. This is followed
by the aoconnt of the two trials — ^before the Jewish sanhedrin, and the Boman
governor. The last two divisions give the death and burial of Christ, His resur-
rection and ascension. Certainly no part is without order ; the chronological order
is followed, with a few exceptions easily explained. Selection and purpose may be
discerned everywhere ; an order befitting the subject and object, both human and
Divine. {J. H, Godwin,)
CoHmiTB.— The contents of the Oospel may be divided generally into fov
sections. L The Introduction (i. 1>18). H. The works of Jesus, ihe Son ol
Qod, in Galilee (i. 14-ix. 50). UL A journey to Jerusalem, and residenoe there
(X. 1-xiii 87). IV. The sufferings, death, resurrection, and ascension of tha Lord.
{Arehbithof Wm, Thomson.)
LsAnzHo InxAs.— I. Jenu U Lord, not only of natore and the world of spirits,
not only of storms and diseases, but of the sick, stormy, guilty, sorrowing,
passionate, ignorant, yet yearning heart of man. He speaks, men ara ** astonished
and amazed.'* He moves from place to place; wherever He goes. He is the
magnet of the human soul. "All men seek for Him.'* Even when He is
Bhrouded far in the silence of the desert, even when He is in the house, ** He
cannot be hid." Still as He walks His way of life, rays of supernatural light
stream from the sky, that is usually so cold and passionless, round the pathway
of the Galilean peasant. They fear, as we all fear, when the sound of the tide of
eternity suddenly breaks upon our ear, and we see for a moment the heaving and
glimmer of its awful waves. ** They fear exceedingly,** and ** are astonished with
a great astonishment," and " are sore amazed in themselves.** As that master hand
sweeps without effort the chords of the human soul, its deepest and finest tones —
amazement, wonder, reverence, trust, adoration — answer to the marvellous touch.
IL Th« Ufe of Jesus is one of aUemate rest and victory, teithdratPtU and working.
So, tn diap. i, we find the retirement in Nazareth, tha coming forth to ba
INTRODUCTION TO THE GOSPEL OF ST, MARK, XTil
IwptiBed; the withdrawal into the wilderness, the walk in Galilee ; the rest in the
eool sanotaary, where the dawn breaks upon the kneeling man, and the going forth
to preach to the heated and struggling crowd. Thus, once more, the withdrawal
to the Mount of Olives is followed by the great conflict of the Redeeming Passion,
while that is sncoeeded by the withdrawal into the Sepulchre. It is the book of
the wan of the Lord, and the rest of the Lord. The Erst rest was in Nazareth ;
the first trophies were the four apostles. The last rest is in the heaven of heavens,
in the privacy of glorious light ; the last victory (for this great book never ended
with the words •* they were afraid ") is diffused over all time — " the Lord working
with them, and oonfiiming the word with signs following." {BUhop WilUam
Alexander,)
pBOUUABmBS OT THIS GosPBiu — ^I. Satinos oj Jesus. Without this Gospel we
■honld not have possessed the great axiom (the safeguard at once against super-
stition and irreverence in regard to all positive institutions whatever), " The
Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath." The two great words
would be away, " Peace, be still I ** Something surely would be wanting to the
Parables, if we had lost that exquisite illustration of the development of God's
kingdom — the seed growing, not mechanically, or in virtue of cultivation, but
from within outwardly, by the energy of its hidden life. Here, too (" cleansing all
meats : *' vii. 19), we see one ray of moral light, falling upon the corruption from
which the fastidious imagination turns away sickened. Here, again, in its fullest
and most emphatic form, stands that saying which has nerved so many of God's
children to face the syllogism, the epigram, and the scaffold. In St. Lnke, " who-
foever shall be ashamed of Me and Mine ; " in St. Mark, ** Whosover shall be
ashamed of Me and of My words, in this adulterous and sinful generation." In this
Gospel only, the dosing words of Isaiah are taken up and thrice repeated," Where their
worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched." Here alone occurs that awful image
taken at once from the Jewish ritual, and from the realm of nature. The Judge of
mankind tells ns that as every offering was offered with salt, so every human soul
most be seasoned by the flame of self-sacrifice and sanctified suffering, or by that
of wrath ; that it must be bathed in heavenly fire, or preserved undying in the
fire of hell (ix. 44, 60). Peculiar to St. Mark's version of the discourse upon the
last things, is that sudden reiterated note as of a trumpet, or tolling as of a bell,
**Take ye heed, watch ye therefore, watch and pray, watch** (xiii). In the same
connection we must not forget three memorable words. He who in the unity of that
undivided Person is God and Man, sometimes speaks as if (to use human language)
He forgot that He was not in heaven, looking npon all things in the calmness of
the perfect and eternal Ught : sometimes, again, as if earth were indeed His home
tat a season, as if His prospects were bounded for a while by our lower horizon :
" Of that day or hour knoweth none, neither angel in heaven, nor the Sont but
the Father only " (xiii. 32). Let it not be forgotten that the word of eommenda-
tion is found in these pages exclusively, which, even within the last few years,
dwelt as a burning fire in one woman's heart (Agnes Jones) ; enabling her to
persevere in a work for the pauper-sick, which will never pass away, *' She hath
done what she could." Here, also, we find the definite prediction to St. Peter,
" Even in this night, before the cock orow twice." H. Incidbnt8. The second
Adam with the wild beasts in the wilderness, while the whole forty days are filled
op with one long silent suggestion of the evil one; EUs mother and brethren
taking steps to arrest Him, on the score of ecstatic absorption ; His sleeping in the
storm on the pillow ; that one ray of light in the other storm, ** He $aw them
toiling in rowing " ; the restoration of the deaf man with an impediment in hii
speech, and of the blind man at Bethsaida; His design of remaining hidden
in a house ; His return to the sea of Galilee ; the disciplea having one loaf with
1*
xyiii INTRODUCTION TO THE GOSPEL OF ST, MARK,
them in the Bhip; t e history of His work along the Gaolonite range, east of
Jordan ; His speaking openly the layings about His Passion ; the sndden disap-
pearing of the heavenly visitants from the Mount of Transfiguration; "the
questioning one with another what the rising from the dead should mean ; *' the
awe of the multitude at the yet uo faded brightness of His countenance ; the
ioving displeasure against the disoip es who forbade the little children to come
to Him; the not suffering any vessel to be carried through the Temple; the
breaking of the alabaster box in the noble extravagance of love ; the emphatic
record that all drank of the Eucharistio cup; the repetition of the words in
Gethsemane ; the young man, probably St. Mark himself, who left the linen cloth,
and fled away naked ; the High Priest standing in the midst ; Peter beneath in
the palace ; the first crowing of the cook ; the bowing of the soldier's knees in
mockery ; the names of the sons of the Gyrenian ; and, finally, the special appear-
ance to Mary Magdalene after the Besarreotion. {Bishop Wm, Alexander.)
St. Mark's the Gospel of Incidents. — ^It is particularly mentioned by Papiaft
that St. Peter gave Mark such instruction as was necessary, but " not to give a history
(or connected narrative) of out Lot '» discourses." Now it is the characteristic
of St. Mark's Gospel to be a gospel of incidents, particularly miracles, but not of
discourses or parables as St. Matthew's. St. Mark gives only four parables, while
St. Matthew gives fourteen; and yet they both alike record that "without a
parable spake He not unto them." Ihe omission then of so many parables must
have been intentional on the part o. St. Mark or St. Peter. Then there is not a
single line in St. Mark's Gospel of the sort of teaching which we have in the Sermon
on the Mount, whereas in St. Luke's Gospel we have much of the teaching of that
Sermon reproduced. Take, again, tke charge of the apostles. In St. Matthew x. it
occupies thirty-six verses. In St. Mark vi. 7-11, it occupies four or five. Take,
again, the denunciation of the Scribes and Pharisees. In St. Matthew it runs over
a chapter of thirty -nine verses. In St. Mark it occupies but three verses of chapter
xii. I need scarcely mention that St. John's Gospel is principally ^a Gospel of
discourses. So that, compared with the other three Gospels, St. Mark's is so
absolutely without didactic matter that it must have been intentionally omitted.
To have given more could not have fallen in with the plan of St. Mark, or St.
Peter. Now why was this? Evidently because in the body of tradition whidt
St. Peter preached, which is virtually the same as St. Matthew's Gospel as w©
now have it, there was sufficient didactic instruction, and that given in as perfect
a form as possible, whereas in t]|at same body of tradition, the incidents of the
Lord's life were not given in as graphic and full a manner as they might have been.
The hearers of Peter had been particularly struck with this. The Apostle Peter
in his teaching added nothing to the discourses of the Lord, as embodied in the
tradition reproduced in St. Matthew (or in some collection of tradition answering to
it, but now lost), whereas he did add very materially to the account of the incidenta
and miracles of the Lord's life. He added those details, those touches of nature
which made his accounts that p otographic representation, if one may reverently
use the expression, which we have in this Gospel, as compared with St. Matthew.
God, who gives to each man his particular gift, one after this manner, another
after that, may have given to St. Matthew a retentive memory to reproduce faith,
fully parables and long discourses. He gave to St. Peter an eye observant of all
the lesser details which add lifelike charm to a narrative. And these it was which
the Roman Christians desired to have preserved, and so they begged St. Mark ta
reproduce the accounts of miracl and incident, and as the oldest historian tell*
OS, " not to give a history of our ord's disoonrses." (If. F, Sadler, M.A,)
Chasaotkbistios. — The key to t is Gospel seems to be that the writer was minded
INTRODUCTION TO THE GOSPEL OF ST, MARK. xix
to write an Moount of the wonderful life and power of Jeans, the Son of God. He
conveys, and in a marked manner, the shortness of the time in which all was
transacted, and the rapidity and wonderful activity of this great life. Doctrinal
discoorses are foreign to this purpose. The relation of Jesus to the Jewish Scrip
tures is likewise made less prominent. The word " straightway,** or *' immediately/'
is used forty-one times in this shortest Gospel ; a marked peculiarity. The wonder-
working Son of Gbd sweeps over His kingdom, swiftly and meteor-like ; and men
are to wonder and adore. His course is sometimes represented aa ahmpt, mys-
terious, awful to the disciples ; He leaves them at night ; conceals Himself from
them on a journey. The disciples are amazed and afraid (z. 24, 32). And the
evangelist means the same impression of awe to be imparted to the reader. Periods
of solitude and rest are interposed in this stormy, hurried life. . . . Some speak
slightly of this picture of what is called a ** restless " career, rad contrast it with
the calmer and more sculpture-like representation which they pretend to find in St.
Matthew. But the sketch in this Gospel is true to history. The constant persecu-
tions, from which it was needful to flee, even sometimes beyond the bounds of
Herod's kingdom, to Tyre, or to some solitary spot on the sea-shore ; the crowds
that followed Him in wonder, forgetful of food and shelter, that they might see with
eyes what others told in their ears ; the pitiable cases of sickness and mutilation
from which that loving eye is never turned away ; the constant presence of the
twelve disciples, with all their doubts, and crude beliefs, and problems to solve : a
life made up of such elements must have been one of constant pressure, not indeed
of "hurry" in the usual sense of the word; for if there is one truth more than
another that we may learn from the lives of those who have lived by the Spirit of
God, it is that the soul may be kept in peace in the midst of great outward pressure.
Hence, the representation of this Gk)spel can be seen to be true and faithful, if only
it be granted that Jesus lived, and that in a ministry of three years He went about
teaching, and preaching, and healing, the object of constant persecution, yet never
abating His zeal on account of His enemies. {Archbishop Wm, Thomson.)
ObABAOTBBISTIOS — WITH SPBOIAL BXlVBBMOa TO THS LAST TWELVB VBBSS8. — What
St. Mark brings out, with those swift and vivid touches which all careful readers of
his Gospel have noticed, is the personal action and work of the Son of God as Lord
of the world, and conqueror of the hearts and faith of men. He represents Him as
establishing an increasing dominion over evil and over nature, and overcoming the
powers that oppose Him till at last He rises from the grave. He recalls the words
of oommand addressed to the raging evil spirits, to the wild and overwhelming
waves, to the barren yet leafy fig tree. As he goes on, he describes the works of
healing and of power wrought by the Son of God over more violent or more subtle
forms of evil. First, a devil is cast out— then it is a legion and army of devils.
First, a fever is assuaged — then it is a vehement storm that is stilled. First, a leper
is cleansed, whose outward man is tainted — then a poor woman suffering for many
years an inward plague. First, a paralytic, with suspended energy, is restored —
then the daughter of Jairus is brought back from actual death. And this gradual
revelation by potent word and mighty work, goes on side by side with another. Our
Lord must indeed conquer the spirits of evil, and prove Himself the God of Nature,
but He has also, and as His chief work, to achieve dominion over the wills and
affections of mankind. And here there is a different method to be put in practice.
He will only conquer those who trill receive Him. He could, indeed, force belief, as
He drove the legion to acknowledge Him, and as He rebuked the wind, and said to
the waves, ** Peace, be still." But this is not the method of His wisdom. There is,
it wcold seem, in the eyes of Gtod, and under the rule of the laws by which He
gOToma the human race, no value but in willing service — ^in service where the man
«>naentB, even though he do it with difiSculty and labour. And so St. Mark sen
tx JNTBODUCTION TO THE GOSPEL OF ST. MARK.
before ns how the Son of God gradaally reveals Himself in opposition to doIneM of
perception and want of faith, and bow some accept Him after long and patient
edacation, and some to the end ref OM. How, then, does the last chapter fit on, u
a oondnsion to the body of the Qospel ? With a perfect and exact harmony, wa
reply, such as no mere compiler eoold have attained, and it continues, withoat a
break, all the threads which ran through the main teztore of the book. It describes,
in short, how even after the Besorreotion, the faith of the disciples still was slow,
and their hearts still hard. How the women at the tomb fled in trembling and
amazement. How the disciples disbelieved Mary Magdalene. How the two who
met Him going into the oomitry failed to convince the rest. How at last Ha
appeared to all Himself, and upbraided them with their unbelief and hardness of
heart, and thus finally, and after a long and gradual process, gained a conquest over
their wills. Then it was that He addressed them with the discourse at the dose of
the book, bidding them go and preach the Gospel to every creature, offering salvation
to believers, and threatening condenmation to disbelievers. Promising fourfold
powers like His own to those who believe — a power over spiritual evil, an increase of
natural gifts, a superiority to physical dangers, and a virtue of healing diseases. Then,
and not till then (when He reveals His f uU majesty by the transfer of these graoes to
others), does He receive the title of Lord. " The Lord (it is said), after He had spoken
with them, was received up to heaven, and sat on the right hand of God." And they
— they are now no longer faithless, but believing. Having convinced and gained
them, He has gained the instrument which He came r'own on earth to fashion, the only
instrument which in His wisdom He thinks fit to use in the conversion of the world
— the instrument of personal faith begetting faith. And thus endowed, they go
forth and preach everywhere, but not in their own strength, but His, for the Lord
works ever with them, and confirms their doctrine by means of suitable miradea,
just as in His own ministry He worked such marvds as had a moral relation to the
truths He came to teach. ** And they went forth (we read) and preached every
where, the Lord working with them, and confirming the word with signs following.**
Any one who will read this last chapter carefully, will observe how it gathers up in
a wonderful way the chief points of the whole GospeL The lives whioh mn
through it are brought to a point; and there is, as it were, an onveiling ci Um
aystea ol which they are the eonstmoting elements. {Jolm Wordtwartk, MJL^
THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTMTOR.
ST. MARK.
CHAPTER I.
Ver. 1. The beginning. — The beginning of the gospel of Jesui ChrUtt^-X, Id
John's way of living there was the beginning of a gospel spirit, (a) Self deniaL
(6) Nonconformity to the world. II. In John's preaching and baptizing there was
the beginning of the gospel doctrines and ordinances, (a) Remission of sin upon
a true repentance. (6) Christ — His pre-eminence, power, and promises. III. In
John's success there was the beginning of a gospel church. [M. Henry.) The
beginning of the gospel : — This expression suggests — I. Unexampled lovb. II. A
glorious EPOCH. To it all the old converge, from it all the old radiate. It was the
planting of a moral sun in man's heavens, the opening of a living fountain in man's
desert. III. A magnificent progress. The beginning seemed very unpropitions
and unpromising. For remedial truth was shut up in the breast of one lonely man,
and He the son of a Jewish peasant. But what has it become ? The solitary seed
covers many acres with precious grain, the little spring has swollen into a majestic
river, bearing on its bosom the soul of the world to a higher civilization, a purer
faith, and a diviner morality. {Anon.) The beginning of the gospel : — ^I. A
WONDERFUL THING HERE BEGUN. The gospel — good uews, &0, One might have
expected justice and wrath to make an end of sin and sinners, instead of a begin-
ning of a new dispensation of mercy and love. II. A wonderful bboinnino of
this wonderful thing. So unostentatious — one man preaching in a wilderness ; so
tolemn — one voice disturbing the silence ; so novel — a way prepared for another
man ; so strangely answering to ancient prophecy. HI. This wonderful beginning
of the wonderful new, was the beginnino of the end of the wonderful old.
Yet no one thought that a dispensation so solemnly inaugurated, marked by
prophets, sustained by miracles, was having its death-knell tolled by that one man
in the wilderness. {J. G. Gray.) The gospel ofJesue Christ : — L Our first theme
is the GOSPEL. 1. What is the gospel 7 (1) That the word, both in Greek and
English, originally means good news, glad tidings. Gospel is good news in the
same sense tbat it was good news when you heard of the recovery of a parent or
child. (2) That it is good news from God to man — from heaven to earth—from
the infinitely holy to the lowest depths of human wretchedness and sin. It is not
good news from America to Europe ; it is a voice from heaven, breaking through
the silence or discord of our natural condition. Oh, could the tumult of this life
cease to fill our ears, we might hear another sound — good news from God to each
of us. (3) That it is good news in relation to your sins, salvation, and eternity.
It remedies the greatest evils and supplies the deepest wants of man. 2. Whose
gospel it is. It is not an impersonal or abstract gospel ; it is not the gospel of »
man, nor yet of a distant God ; it is the gospel born of God and man ; it m
described as the gospel of Jesus Christ the Son of God. (1) It is " the gospel of
Jesus," that is, the good nevvs of a Saviour. (2) But it is also the gospel of Christ :
the anointed Prophet, Priest, and King of His people. (3) But who is sufficient
for these things, or who is equal to the great work shadowed forth by these titles ?
The necessity of a Divine Person to assume this trust is evident from the nature
of the trust itself; the Son of God is the Saviour and Prophet. H. Thj
beginning of the GOSPEL. 1. Where did it begin of old? (1) That the gospel af
I
ft THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap, l
a message of Balvation may be said to have begun in the eternal connsel of the
Divine will ; in the eternal purpose of the God who sent it. We must not regard
the gospel as a sort of after-thought to make good the failure of another method
of Balvation. (2) That the beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ was not in
the New Testament, but in the Old ; it began in the simple first promise to ota
first parents. (3) The gospel may be said to have had a new beginning in the
preparatory ministry of John the Baptist. 2. Where does this gospel begin now ?
(1) That it begins for the most part in religious education — in the simple teaching
at maternal knees. (2) In the moving of the Holy Spirit. (3) There are provi-
dential recommencements of the gospel both to communities and to individuals.
{J. A. Alexander^ D.D.) The great scheme started : — I. The most wonderful epoch
in the annals of time. II. The most wonderful production in the realm of
LiTBRATO-A*. All the Bible is inspired : both Old and New Testaments : 1. By the
meaning of the language used in the Bible when speaking of itself. 2. From the
unity of idea underlying the entire record. 3. From the teaching of Christ in
regard to it. This gospel is the most wonderful production in the realm o
literature. 1. Because of the age of the book. 2. Because of the number o
men who took part in its authorship. 3. The scope and spirit of its teaching
4. Because of its universal adaptation. 6. Because of the effects it produces.
(T. Kelly.) The origin of the gospel: — This short verse contains four great
wonders. 1. The greatest wonder of heaven— "the Son of God." 2. The greatest
wonder of humanity — '* Jesus Christ the Son of God." 3. The greatest wonder of
all knowledge — "the gospel of Jesus Christ." 4. The most wonderful era — •*the
beginning of the gospel." I. There was an abstract or absolute beginning to the
gospel in the Divine mind. The love, pity, wisdom of God were the sources of the
gospel. II. The gospel had a prophetic beginning in the first revelations made to
Adam, the patriarchs and prophets. ** To Him gave all the prophets witness. "
III. The gospel had its actual beginning in the ministry of John and the incarna-
tion of Jesus. rV. The gospel had an efficacious beginning which is to be dated
from the death of Christ. Until then nothing efficient was done. V. The gospel
had an operative or practical beginning in the commission given to the apostles
after the resurrection — *• Beginning at Jerusalem." VI. The gospel viewed in its
whole history, hitherto is but yet at its beginning. It has only begun to bless
and save mankind. VII. When the great consummation of its triumph is come
we shall only be at the beginning of the gospel. It will have no end. Has
it had a beginning in you ? {The Evangelist.) Unity and progress of Divine
dispensations: — I. Thk gospel has had three beginnings, yet each of them may
be spoken of as the beginning. 1. In the Divine counsels, when it was but a
thought. 2. In the incarnation, when it became a Person. 3. In believers, when
it becomes a new creation. II. One beginning of the gospel is always
introductory to another. 1. The thought. 2. The agent or representative.
3. The result. Divine revelation is always consistent and progressive. HI. No
BEGINNING OF THE GOSPEL CAN BE TRUE AND EFFECTUAL EXCEPT AS IT LEADS TO A
spiritual CONSUMMATION. The prophets pointed to John, John to Jesus, Jesus to
the Holy Ghost, This shows (1) The transitoriness of all mere ceremony ; (2) the
uselessness of all mere knowledge ; (3) the possibility of the highest fellowship
with God. IV. Lesson to pioneers. A man only works well in proportion as he
knows the measure of his power and the hmit of his mission. When the frame-
maker mistakes himself for the painter, art is degraded. It does not follow that
because a man knows the alphabet, he can write a book. The pioneer must never
go in the king's clothes. April cannot do the work of August. {J. Parker, D.D.)
The commencement of the gospel: — I. Contemplate the gospel as a progressive revela-
tion. II. This commencement of the gospel was important (1) As the only true reve-
lation of God ; (2) as the only true revelation of man. III. The commencement of
the gospel was happy. 1. Because the commencement of the gospel delivered from the
tyranny of the law. 8. Because it provided an escape from the dire consequences of
sin. 3. Because it unfolded the happy destiny of the race. IV. The commencement
of the gospel was hopeful. Learn — 1. God's consideration for the need of man. 2.
The self -consistency of a gospel thus gradually unfolded. 8. That it should be our
continued endeavour to reproduce the gospel in our lives. (Joseph 8. Exell, 31. A.)
Beginnings: — The first sentence of this gospel is the title to the whole of it — *• The
beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God." Here again is a
characteristic form of expression. This evangehst uses the word "began" over
ftnd over again, a score of times at least. Jesus *' began to teach " (iv. 1) ;
ST. MARK.
the multitude •* began to implore Him to depart" (v. 17); the leper "began
to publish " the miracle (i. 45) ; Christ " began to send out " the twelve
{vi. 7) ; the soldiers "began to mock Him" (xv. 18); revilera "began to spit
on Him " (xiv. 65). The tale is just full of " beginnings " aU through to the
end. I. It began first in the purpose of the Almighty Father. See how Mark
brings this out by his double quotation from the old and long-dead prophets.
There was certainly a plan of redemption before a man was redeemed — " Known
onto God are all His works from the beginning of the world." We cannot help
thinking Mark knew in the outset what wonderful matters he had to record. For
here, all driven up compactly together, is found the finest group of first things in
the New Testament : the first sermon on repentance, the first baptism of a convert,
the first sensible manifestation of the Holy Ghost, the first voice from heaven in
recognition of Jesus' office and glory, the first fight with Beelzebub, and the first
victory over temptation. This did not happen so ; it must have been ordered so.
Thus the gospel began in God's purpose. II. It had a second beginning in thb
ADVENT OF ouB SAviouB JESUS CHRIST. III. It had another also in the wobk of
THE HOLT OHOST. See how Mark shows this clearly by the witness of the dove on
the head of Christ as He comes up from the Jordan, and by the use of the energetic
word ♦' drive ** when describing the urgency with which our Lord was constrained to
endure the temptation. The good news of salvation began to be told in the
moment when Satan received his defeat ; it was the Spirit of God which here
brought on the conflict and crowned the Victor with success. It is at this special
point that the admonition reaches ourselves. The question above all others for us
to ask and to answer is this : How does the work of the Holy Ghost effect the
beginning of the gospel in the soul of an unregenerate man ? The reply to this
is not difficult. Sometimes by a strange disturbance, a sovereignly wrought un-
easiness in the heart and conscience; the sinner does not know, perhaps, the
explanation of his restlessness, but he becomes sure that his peace is not made,
and that it ought to be made, with an offended God. Then also sometimes the Spirit
uses the quiet communication of truth. By the slower processes of patient education
a child is led on up into the knowledge of God. Then the Holy Ghost moves that
awakened life, and unites it savingly to Jesus Christ as the Eedeemer. And some-
times this same Divine Agent of regeneration employs dispensations of providence,
prosperous or adverse. Some practical lessons are taught us here, and they will be
remembered better if they are stated in order. 1. Every good and great thing
originates in a purpose as certainly as God's gospel did in God's purpose. Every
enterprise exists as a thought before it exists as a realization. No man ever
became a Christian without as definite a purpose to begin the gospel in his heart
as Mark had when he commenced to write his gospel in the Bible. 2. So there is a
second lesson to learn : every true life must have a plan. Christ's life had God's
plan. Any life will accomplish more if it finds the Divine plan and accepts it. If
an author is compelled to plan a story with characters in it, in order to even
moderate success in managing the unities, must he not likewise be forced to plan a
career which he proposes to live out ? 3. Put alongside of this another lesson :
eminence and excellence come from consistency in matching ends to beginnings.
Human beings are reached and moved best by long and steady forces, rather
than by those which are intermittent. 4. Now for the best lesson of all : when
once the gospel has had its real beginning in any energetic life, nothing can take
it away at the end. Heaven is the end. (C. S. Robins&nf D.D.) The Genesis
of the New Kingdom: — Intense interest fastens upon "beginnings." There
is large scope for the play of imagination. We gaze with exquisite plea-
sure on the laughing face of a royal babe, or on the launch of a maU-ship, or
on the babbling rise of some historic river. Human life is fall of " beginnings."
I. Christ's incarnation was a great beoinnino fob humanity. II. This be-
ginning HAD ITS hidden BOOTS IN THE PAST. HI. ThIS NEW CBEATION IS BOTH
LIKE AND UNLIKE THE OLD. It is Uke^ in that it opens with a voice. It is unlike
in the fiat uttered. Attention here is challenged for the message, not for the
man : it is a voice. The man is a cipher, the doctrine everytJ^ing. IV. Be-
ginnings ABE OFTEN ATTENDED WITH PAIN. The dcscrt life of Johit, with its
ascetic austerities, was painful. It was painful to the natural man — ^to his social
tendencies. Each day begins in midnight darkness. Each year is bom in wintry
cold and gloom. The life of the plant opens with the fracture of the seed. And
the beginning of the gospel's life in individual s uls is attended with sorrow
and mortification. V. The gospel of Christ is a beginning withcct am sink.
THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR
In the kingdom of Messiah, the prophecy becomes fact — " Thy sun shall no more
go down." Prophets foresaw the fall of the earthly Jerusalem ; no prophet ha»
ever foreseen the decay of the heavenly. The gospel is power — infinite power.
Is there no limit to man's development ? None. By virtue of Christ's gospel, we
are always beginning. (D. Davies^ M.A.) Of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. The
author and subject of the gospel : — I. Christ Jesus is thk author of this
oosPEL. How great, then, is the sin of those who despise, or refuse to believe and
obey the gospel. They reject Christ Himself. Take heed we be not guilty of this
gin, for God will severely punish it. Yet, how common is this contempt of the
gospel nowadays 1 How little do some care to hear it unfolded in the public ministry :
a amall matter hinders them. One cause of such contempt is this, that men
are not yet thoroughly persuaded that the doctrine, delivered by a frail man like
themselves, is, and can be, the doctrine of Christ Himself ; they neither see nor
feel any Divine power of Christ working in and by this doctrine when it is
delivered; therefore they think it to be the word of a man, not the word of Christ
Jesus the Son of God. But know this, that Christ Jesus uses the ministry of
weak men, yet the word and message which they bring is the message of Christ
Himself. And what if we bring this treasure to 5 ou in earthen vessels f Yet
the treasure is not the less worth. II, Christ is ai.so the chief subject,
MATTER, AND ARGUMENT OF THE GOSPEL. Whatever is taught in the gospel is
either (1) concerning the Person of Christ ; or (2) concerning His offices, as Ha
is our Priest, Prophet and King ; or (3) concerning the benefits we have by Him,
Buch as justification, salvation, <fec. ; or (4) touching the means of enjoying these
benefits from Christ, as faith and repentance. So that Christ Jesus is the sum
and main scope of the doctrine of the gospel. (O. Fetter.) How to receive the
gospel : — How gladly do we entertain good news touching our body, goods, friends,
or outward estate 1 How welcome is it to us 1 (Pro v. xxv. 25.) And shall not this
blessed tidings of the salvation of our souls by Christ, which is brought to us
in the gospel, be much more welcome to us ? Is not the news of liberty welcome
to the prisoner ; the news of a pardon from the prince, welcome to the condemned
malefactor ? And what are we by nature, but prisoners under the bondage of sin
and Satan — malefactors and traitors before God, guilty of eternal damnation?
Oh, then, let us joyfully embrace the. doctrine of the gospel, which brings to us the
news of spiritual freedom from sin and Satan, purchased by Christ, and of the
pardon of our sins procured for us by Him. How highly should we prize this
doctrine ; how happy should we think ourselves, when we may enjoy the preaching
of it ; and how far should we be from despising or neglecting so great salva-
tion I (Ibid,) The substance and design of the gospel: — I. Its substance.
1. Jesus Christ is the Great Teacher. 2. The Great Atoner. 3. The Great
Example. His life was in harmony with His teaching; reflecting, like a stainless
mirror, the purity and benevolence of His precepts. II. Its Desion. 1. To re-
veal the heavenly world. 2. To prepare us for that world. Enlightenment, for-
giveness, and sanctity, are the antecedents of glorification. These things come
to us through the teaching, atonement, and example of Jesus. Thus the gospel
makes us meet for joyful fellowship with holy angels, before the throne of God and
the Lamb. {P.J. Wright.) The gospel: — The gospel is an anthem fiom the harps of
heaven ; the music of the River of Life washing its shores on high, and pouring
in cascades upon the earth. Not so cheerful was the song of the morning stars ;
nor the shout of the sons of God so joyful. Gushing from the fountains of
eternal harmony, it was first heard on earth in a low tone of soiemu gladness,
uttered in Eden by the Lord God Himself. This gave the key-note of the
gospel-song. Patriarchs caught it up, and taught it to the generations following.
It breathes from the harp of the Psalmist, and rang like a clarion from tower and
mountain-top, as prophets proclaimed the year of Jubilee. Fresh notes from
heaven have enriched the harmony as the Lord of Hosts and His angels have
revealed new promises, and called on the suffering children of Zion to be joyful in
their King. From bondage and exile, from dens and caves, from bloody fields and
fiery stakes, and peaceful deathbeds, have they answered, in tones which have
cheered the disconsolate, and made cppressors shake upon their thrones; while
sun, and moon, and all the stars of light, stormy wind fulfilling His words, the
roaring sea and the fulness thereof, mountains and hills, fruitful fields, and all
the trees of the wood, have rejoiced before the Lord, and the coming of His
Anointed for the redemption of His people, and the glory of His holy
Name. {Dr Hog-;.) One gospel :— There is only one gospel. There are
CHAP. 1.] ST. MARK.
many religions amongst men : almost all of them are Laws — codes of precepti
for the guidance of life ; but Christianity is pure gospel — glad tidings of great joy.
The angels gave it that name (Luke ii. 10), and the experience of multitudes
that none can number has approved it. {R. Glover.) The Bible wWumt
Chnst: — Take Christ away from the Bible and it is immediately destroyed.
In ancient times a celebrated artist made a most wonderful shield, and worked
his own name into it so that it could not be removed without destroying
the shield. It is just so with the Bible and Christ. {Fogter). The Son of
God. — Chrisfs Divinity practically proved: — The Deity of the Son of God is,
to me, not proved merely in propositions. I believe that he who believes in
the Godhead of Jesus Christ has all history, all etymology, all philosophy, and
all true reading of the case entirely on his side. But I do not look to propositions,
to logical formulae, to any bare statements, however exact, for the proof and con-
firmation that this claim is founded in righteousness. Do you think that I build
my hopes cf eternity upon some little etymological technicality ? Do you suppose
that my dependence is founded altogether upon the construction of a phrase or the
mood and tense of a verb ? We have nothing to fear from that side of the argument,
BO far as 1 have been able to collate the testimonies of competent men. But I do
not rely upon it in preaching the Deity of the Son of God, and in committing
myself to the great claim which Jesus makes on behalf of His own nature. What
do I trust then ? The moral reach, the spiritual compass, the indefinable and
inexpressible sympathy of the Man. When He touched my heart into life, I did
not say, '* Hand me down the Greek grammar and the Hebrew lexicon, and three
volumes of the encyclopaedia, to see how this really stands." I knew it to be a fact.
Nobody ever did for me what He has done. Once I was blind ; now I see. I go to
other men — writers, speakers, teachers — hear what they have to say, and, behold,
they are broken cisterns that can hold no water. I go to the Son of God, whose
teaching is written in the New Testament, and it gets into the deep places of my
life ; it redeems me ; it goes further than any other influence, and does more for
me than any other attempt that ever was made to recover and bless my life. It is,
therefore, in this great sweep of His, in this reply to every demand that is made
upon His resources, this infinite sufficiency of BLis grace, that I find the exposition
and the defence of His Godhead. Some things must be felt ; some things must be
laid hold of by sympathy, affection, sensibility. The heart is in some cases a
greater interpreter than the understanding. There is a time when logic has to say,
*• I can do no more for you ; do the best you can for yourself ! " Then love goes
forward, and necessity feels it ; and it is in that further insight and penetration
that the Godhead of the Nazarene, as it appears to me, is vindicated and glorified.
.... As I looked upon the sun this November morning, shining through some
beautiful blue clouds, a man called upon me to prove that that sun was, in his
judgment, as far as he could make out by " the tables," about sufficient to light the
world. He turned over long pages of logarithms, and tables of various kinds,
fractions and decimals, and long processions of figures; he asked me for a slate
and a pencil, and he was going to make it out to my satisfaction that the sun was
just about suflicient to enlighten a hemisphere at a time. I ordered him off 1
Why ? I saw it ; I felt it ; the whole thing was before me, and if that man had
never been bom, and the slate had never been made, I should have known that this
great sun poured light upon the earth until there was not room enough to receive
it, and that the splendour ran off at the edges and flamed upon other stars I And
yet sometimes men call upon us with slates, pencils, sponpes, for the purpose of
showing us by their calculations that Jesus Christ cannot be God the Son. I have
lived long enough to know that He is God enough for me. What more can I want?
He raises the dead ; He redeems my life from destruction ; He tills the mouth with
good things ; He numbers the hairs of my bead ; He carries me up-hill many a time
when I am weary and the wind is bleak ; He visits me in my distress and my afflic-
tion. My Lord ! my God 1 I will not receive Thee merely through grammars and
technical discussions. I will receive Thee because when Thou dost come into my
heart, I know that all the heaven that I can contain is already within me when
Thou art near. My Lord ! and my God ! {Joseph Parker, D.D.) T)ie Son of
God : — The Son of God is no voluntary effect of the Father's power and wisdom,
like the created universe, which once did not exist, and might never have existed,
and must necessarily be ever confined within the bounds of time aud space. He is
the natural and necessary, and therefore the eternal and iufinite, birth of the Divine
fecundity, the boundless overflow of the Eternal Fountain of all existence and per-
6 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. i.
fection, the infinite splendour of the Eternal Sun, the unspotted mirror, and com-
plete and adequate image in Whom may be seen all the fulness of the Godhead.
{R. Watson.) Christ not a Son, but the Son: — This implies something other than
that general fatherly relation which God sustains to all His intelligent creatures.
Even among the heathen, great kings, heroes, lawgivers, and patriots are thought
to be somehow sons of God. There was also the Oriental mystic, who, imagining
himself a part of the universal all, a drop in the great ocean of being, was fond of
calling himself a son of God. But Jesus is " the Son." And one has not to read
far, in either of the Gospels, to be able to discover that here the phrase is used in
a very definite sense. He is not so named as one who, Uke other men, bears the
Divine image ; nor as the object of special affection ; nor as the greatest being in
the universe next to God. He bears to the Father a more intimate relation. To-
gether with the Father, He is the object of trust, love, and worship ; the same in
power and glory ; to be honoured of all men, even as they honour the Father. The
evangelist starts with this view. He whose story he is now to relate, is the in.
carnate Son of God. (If. M. Grout, D.D.) The Divinity of Christ: — A Divine
Christ is the central son of Christianity ; quench it, and all is confusion worse
oonfoonded. {J, Cumming^ D.D.)
Ver. 2. Ab it Is written In the prophets. — The appropriateness of this double
prophecy : — ^Its authors were — L The fibst prophet (Isa. xl. 3) and the last
(Mai. iii. 1.) who wrote. John was the last prophet of the old dispensation and the
first of the new who spoke. H. The one like John was a prophet of hope ; the other
like him again was the prophet of despaib. IH. Isaiah set the door ajar for Chris-
tianity wldch John flung wide open : Malachi began to shut the door on Judaism
which John closed. {Anon.) Which shall prepare Thy way before Thee. —
Need of preparation for Christ: — In the East, few good roads are ever made ; and
such roads as have been made are generally kept in most wretched repair. Hence,
when a sovereign is about to visit any part of his dominions, it is requisite that a
messenger be sent on before to get the way made ready. Such, in things spiritual,
was John's mission. Men's ways were in a wretched state. Encumbrances and
stumbling-blocks lay everywhere scattered about. Mud and mire were the order of
the day. It seemed impossible for any one to get along through life with unpolluted
garments, or without stumbling and falling, and getting bruised and broken.
The real preparation that was needed was in the hearts of the people. {J. Morison^
DJ).) How to prepare the way for Christ : — How was John to prepare the people
to receive Christ ? 1. By foretelling them that Christ was to come immediately
after him. 2. By preaching the doctrine of Christ, touching His Person and
offices. 8. By preaching the doctrine of faith in Christ, stirring up the people to
believe in Him as the Messiah. 4. By preaching repentance, exhorting them to
torn nnto God from their sin, that so they might be fit to receive Christ. 6. By
administering baptism. {O. Fetter). Man's part in the work of spiritual pre-
paration : — Though the preparation of the heart for Christ is the special work of
God's Spirit, yet He requires that we also should do that which lieth in us toward
this preparing of ourselves : though God only can work this preparation, yet He
will have us use the means by which it may come to be wrought. He does not
work in us, as in stocks and stones that have no sense or motion ; but He first moves
ns by His Spirit, and enables us to the preparation of our hearts, so that we bein^
moved by Him may, after a sort, move ourselves in using the means to prepare our
hearts. 1. We must labour to be truly humbled in the sense of our sins, and of
our natural misery without Christ. We are never fit to embrace Him, till we feel
how wretched we are without Him. 2. We must labour to forsake all sin in heart
and affection, and we must purge the love of it out of our hearts. 3. We must
get a hungering and thirsting desire after Christ. 4. We must use all means to
get faith, whereby to receive Christ into our hearts. (Ibid.) The heart prepared
to receive Christ : — Labour we daily in preparing our hearts unto Christ : strive we
to make Him a plain way, and a straight path into our heart. To this end, remove
the annoyances of this way of Christ : thy sins and corruptions are the hindrances :
take away these by true repentance, that they stop not up the way of Christ, and
bar Him out of thy heart. Labour also for true faith in Christ, that by it thou
mayest be fitted to receive Him, and that He may come to dwell in thee. Do not
think that ever Christ will come into thy heart to dwell there, or that thou canst
ever be fit to receive Him, if thou be not careful of preparing thyself to entertain
Him. Will any earthly prince go to take up his lodging in such a house or city.
CHAP. 1.] ST. MARK.
where he knows there will be no preparation for his entertainment f No more will
Christ in a heart unready to receive Him. (Ibid.) Preparing the way of the
Lord : — The reference may be to the state of the Jewish Church and the Gentile
nations. But what is applied generally to the nations is equally applicable to every
human heart. I. Theee abb formidable obstacles to be removed. 1. Prejudice.
The gospel is often viewed under a false light, or through a perverting medium.
The self-denial, the purity, the separation from the world which Christianity incul-
cates begets prejudice in many. 2. CarnaUty. Base desires, carnal affections,
<fec., present formidable obstacles to the claims of the Lord (Luke xiv. 18-20). 3.
Hardness of heart. By nature impenitent, blind to its own extreme sinfulness,
and, even after confession of sin, unwillingness to forsake them (Isa. xlvi. 12, 13 ;
Ezek. xi. 19). 4. Self-righteousness. Though spiritually diseased and dying, men
imagine themselves •* whole," and without need of a physician. They will not
accept salvation by simple faith in the merits of another (Kom. x. 1, 2^. H. Re-
pentance 18 NECESSARY TO THE REMOVAL OP THESE OBSTACLES. (A . Tucker.) CfirUVs
way to be prepared, not ours : — See what all ministers of the Word must chiefly
labour in, even to prepare men for Christ ; and this is the main thing to be aimed
at in our preaching — we are not to preach ourselves, but Christ ; we are not to
prepare our own way, or the way of any other, but the way of Christ in the hearts
of our people. To this end, we are to speak so to the consciences of our hearers
that we may (if possible) by our ministry work faith and repentance in them, and
60 make way for Christ to enter into their hearts. {O. Fetter.) Preparatory
work needful for spiritual progress : — "When you see a party of men engaged in
taking levels and measuring distances along a particular line of country, and a
little afterwards, other men laying rails, and building bridges, and cutting tunnels,
it is not difficult to guess that the great tide of commerce is about to surge over that
region. When loads of wood and stone are laid down on a vacant lot, it is at once
evident that a building is about to be erected. So the Old Testament prophecies
and John's preaching showed that the way was being prepared for the coming of
Jesus. After the Romans had reduced a country to the position of a province, one
of their first cares was to construct a strong military road into it. Thus the way
was always prepared for their legions. Li the East when some great chief is pass-
ing through the country, it is not uncommon to make new ways for his ps^sage.
Travellers in unsettled parts of the country soon learn to appreciate as never before
the advantages of having roads along which to journey. Ways must be constructed
for the progress of Christ's truth in the world and in the heart. {The American
Sunday School Times). Road building in the East: — To "prepare the way "
b^ore a sovereign is, and always has been, so universal a practice in the East that
wherever an unusually good spot of road is found, or indeed any piece of way that
shows signs of labour, a tradition or fable is almost invariably found to lie along it
to the effect that that piece of road was built expressly for the passage of such a
royal personage, either the sovereign of the realm which includes the territory, or
one of his guests of equal exaltation. On going from Cairo to the pyramids, over
an exceptionally good road, the traveller will not fail to be told that it was built for
the Prince of Wales, or for the Empress Eugenie, or for the Khedive himself, or
even, rarely, for Napoleon the Great. (Ibid.) The law of preparation : — God
doesn't need man's help in anything ; but He chooses to call for it in a great many
things. And when God does leave a place for man's work, man must do his part —
or take the consequences. God is ready to give a crop to the farmer ; but He calls
on the farmer to plough and plant and harrow and hoe in preparing the way for
God's sun and shower, and power of increase. If the farmer fails to so prepare the
way of the Lord for a harvest, he must prepare for a famine — or starve. God is
ready to give a blessing on our homes ; but we must prepare the way of the Lord for
a blessing there, by our love and our faithfulness and our industry. It is not
enough to hang up a framed chromo on the dining-room walls: ''God bless our
home ! '* As in the field and in the home, so in our hearts. If we want' God's
presence and blessing there, we must prepare the way for them. We must plan to
find room for the Lord in our hearts. We must make ready to do His bidding.
We must decide to give up all habits of life that are inconsistent with His service.
We must make a proffer of ourselves, of our time, of our talents, of all our possee-
fiions, to the Lord. If we refuse to do this, we must not wonder that whoever elsa
has a blessing we are without it. {Ibid.)
Ver. 3. The voice of one crying in the wilderness. — Ministerial teal and bold-
8 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. i.
ne8»: — I. Ministf.rs ought to show zeaJj and earnestness in their offiob
(Isa. Iviii. 1. ; Hosea viii. 1. ; 2 Tim. iv. 2). A minister of the Word mast not do the
work of the Lord negligently or coldly, but with zeal and fervency of spirit. This zeal
and earnestness consists chiefly in (1) being affected and moved in his own heart
with that which he delivers, feeling the power of it in himself ; (2) labouring so to
speak as to affect and move his hearers to the embracing of that which is taught.
This is done by the particular applying, and earnest urging and pressing of the
doctrine taught, to the consciences of the hearers ; when it is not only delivered in
general manner, and bo left, but particularly applied, for the reproving and con-
vincing of sin in people, and for the stirring of them up to good duties (Eccles. xii. 11).
The doctrine of the Word (preached by the ministers of it) is compared to nails
fastened, to show that it must be driven home, and up to the head (as it were), by
the hammer of application. II. Ministers should also, with courage and bold-
ness OF SPIRIT, DELIVER THE WORD AND MESSAGE OF THE LoRD (Eph. vi. 20 ;
Jer. i. 17. ; Ezek. iii. 9). "We deliver not our own message, but that of God ; we
speak not in our own name, but in the Name of the Almighty. Let us then,
with aU boldness, deliver God's message, not forbearing to reprove sin, nor con-
cealing any part of the truth, for fear of men's displeasure. (G. Fetter.) God'$
use of man' 8 voice: — The highest praise of a prophet is that he should be simply a
•♦ voice *' employed by God. God borrows voices still. While the weapons of our
warfare are heavenly, the weapons of His warfare are earthly. For the human lips
a Divine message must be sought ; for the Divine message human lips are requisite.
Consecrate thy lips to Him, and He will pour grace into them. {R. Glover.)
The preacher a voice: — A preacher should, if possible, be nothing but a voice,
which should be always heard and never seen. To cry is to preach with such
force as is worthy of the truth, without lowering the voice through complaisance.
To this end he must not be a man of the world, but one who comes, as it were, oat
of the wilderness, without relations, without friends, without secular engagements,
which may thwart and obstruct his ministry. The first man who appears in the
gospel is one entirely dedicated to repentance : the first example and the first pre-
cept are an example and a precept of repentance — so necessary is this to salvation !
(Quesnel.) Novelty and mystery : — I. A wonderful preacher. 1. The subject
of prophecy. 2. The last of the prophets. 3. Choosing a strange place to preach
in. 4. Adopting an antiquated garb and manner. II. A wonderful sermon.
I. Not the exposition of a creed. 2. Not concerning traditions and ceremonies.
8. Personal — as repentance is a personal duty. 4. Practical — as leading to
▼isible results. III. A wonderful congregation. 1. Strangely composed — of
dty and country people. 2. All travelling a great distance to hear the preacher.
8. All yielding to the truth — confessing their sins. 4. All submitting to the rite
imposed by the desert preacher. {J. C. Gray.) Chrisfs public entrance upon His
ministry : — I. The need of the human herald of Christ. Though our Lord came
in the fulness of the time, the time was not ready for Him, so far as His own people
were concerned. The popular heart was intensely cold and unrepentant. A
certain measure of national disaster will bring repentance and reformation. People
read chastisement in their sorrows. But without spiritual guides there comes on
religious indifference. The popular heart was softened. It was prepared for the
truth, and to be an honest witness of Christ's miracles. Here lies the whole philosophy
of the Christian ministry. Christ could operate directly on the heart without the
human instrument. But He requires of man that he go before Him, and do all that
the human voice can do, and then He comes to complete the order of salvation.
He gives man as much as he can do and bear in the great work of saving men.
II. The human preparation of Christ for His work. HI. The subjection of
THE servant to THE MASTER. {J. F. Hurst, D.D.) A rough man for rough
work : — He had rough work to do ; therefore a man of refined taste and delicate
organization could not perform it. John is fitted for his work — a coarse man
levelling mountains and filling up valleys, sternness in his looks, vehemence in his
voice. The truth is — Reformers must despise the conventionalities of society.
They have rude work to do, and they must not be too dainty respecting the means
they adopt to effect it. Adorn your frontispieces, embellish your comer- stones, but
let the foundations be as rugged as you please. Decorations are for the super-
structure, strength and solidity for the base. Luther has often been charged with
rudeness, coarseness, and even scurrility. The indictment contains, perhaps, too
much truth for us successfully to gainsay. But we should not forget that he had a
age to deal with, coarse enemies to contend with, coarse sins to battle with.
CHAP. 1.] ST. MARK.
Coarse or not coarse, the question is — Did he do his work ? If he did that, who
are we to cavil at the means he used? Would our smooth phrases and rounded
periods accomplish the task of regenerating half Europe, and of giving the other
h)i,l{ a shaking from which it has not yet recovered, nor is likely to recover
this century? Regenerate half Europe indeed 1 Shame upon ual We
cannot regenerate half a parish, and who are we to find fault with a man
who regenerated half a continent? Who will go to fell forest trees of a
tnousand years' standing with a superfine razor? Is not the heavy az6
the fit tool wherewith to cut them down ? {J. C. Jones.)
Ver. 4. — John did baptize In the wilderness. — The age in which the Baptist
ministered: — The age of Tiberius, spiritually speaking, was not unlike the Victorian
age. Some people were still satisfied with the old religious forms. Their piety
still flowed through the time-worn channels of creeds and catechisms. There will
always be these survivals, what we call •• old-fashioned people " ; they belong to
the past, let them alone, they will get to heaven in their own way. Others — in the
days of Tiberias and Victoria — respectable but heartless formalists, really without
religion, but apparently full of it, cling to the orthodox forms. You will always
find such wooden-headed, stony-hearted supporters of things as they are, without
a breath of the new life in them, boasting that they are Abraham's children. But
a surging crowd of restless, eager spirits, sons of the new time, impatient of worn-
out creeds, churches, establishments, orthodoxies, what shall I say of these ? Ah I
these are the disciples of John. These wait for the inner personal appeal,
"repent; " the fresh symbol, "baptism " ; the spiritual emancipation, •♦ remission
of sins " ; the new Divine Man ; the holy effluence ; the fiery chrism. {H. R. Haweis,
M.A.) The Baptist's training : — Bepides baptizing, he did a good deal else there ;
Cor he was *' in the deserts till the day of his showing forth unto Israel." He had
the usual good education of a priest's son, and would know most of the Bible by
heart. His father and mother had taught him, as only saintly hearts can teach ^
child, the wealth of God's mercy, the grievousness of sin, the promises of God to
His people, the hope of a great Redeemer. They had told him the wonders con-
nected with his birth in such a way as not to mova his oonceit, but to charge his
conscience with the sense of a high calling awaiting him. They had told him of a
miraculous birth of One whom Anna and Simeon and themselves had been moved
by the Spirit of God to hail as the Promised Christ. He had from time to time
gone up to Jerusalem to the feasts, and had thus seen and heard enough of the
miseries of his people, and of the hypocrisy and worldliness of their priests and
leaders, to make him long for the appearing of the promised Redeemer. So he
sought calmness and strength and light in the desert with his God. The desert
dangers destroyed all fear ; the hardness of the desert fare, all love of ease. The
writings of the great prophets of the past were the friends whose companionship
moulded him. Prayer for his people arose perpetually from his priestly heart.
Increasingly he felt that the one misery of man was sin ; and the one need of man
a Saviour, whose sacrifice would take away its guilt, and whose baptism of fire and
of the Holy Ghost would destroy evil and create good in them. In the wilderness
the great temptations had their fiercest force, but were fought and conquered ; the
temptation to shrink from the tremendous task ; the temptation to despair of men
hearing his message or obeying his call ; the temptation to fear his own break-down
in faith ; the temptations of darkness and doubt, all assailed him there. He could
not have come in the power of the Spirit to his work, unless victory over such
assaults had strengthened him. He knew that death was the reward which the
world had always given God's prophets. He faced till he ceased to fear it. So,
clad in the single garment, still worn by tbe poorest Bedouin ; living on locusts
and wild honey, as the extremely poor sometimes still do in the same region ; he
walked and talked with God until tbe time was ripe for his coming forth. (li.
Olover.) Solitary communion with God : — Every preacher and teacher, to do nis
work aright, must go into the wilden)ess. There would be more prophecy if there was
more privacy. An ounce of truth discovered by yourself has more power in it than
a pound imparted to yon by some one else. Do not grudge the time you spend alone
with God. He wUl teach all His scholars what none others can impart. (Ibid.)
The Baptism of John: — Ablutions in the East have always been more or less a part
of religious worship — easily performed, and always welcome. Every synagogue, il
possible, was by the side of a stream or spring ; every mosque still requires a foun-
tain or basin for lustrati'ms. But John needed more than this. No common
10 THE BIBLICAL ILLVSTxIATOR. [chap. i.
spring or tank would meet the necessities of the multitudes who resorted to him
for haptism. The Jordan now seemed to have met \iith its fit purpose. It was the
one river of Palestine, sacred in its recollections, abundant in its waters ; and yet,
at the same time, the river, not of cities, but of the wilderness ; the scene of the
preaching of those who dwelt not in kings' palaces, nor wore soft clothing. On the
banks of the rushing stream the multitudes gathered — the priests and scribes from
Jerusalem, down the pass of Adunimim ; the publicana from Jericho on the south,
and the lake of Gennesareth on the north ; the soldien? on their way from Damas-
cus to Petra, through the Ghor, in the war with the Arab chief, Hareth ; the peasants
from Galilee, with One from Nazareth, through the opening of the plain of Esdra-
elon. The tall •• reeds " in the valleys waved, '• shaken by the wind " ; the pebbles
of the bare elay hills lay around, to which the Baptist pointed as capable of being
transformed into ** children of Abraham " ; at their lEeet rushed the refreshinc
stream of the never-failing river. There began that sacred rite which has since
spread throughout the world. {Bean Stanley.) The ministry of John the Bap-
tist: — I. His Qualoications for his ministry. *'He was in the deserts," etc.
He was a meditative man. This love of retirement into nature's places of im-
pressive solitude is good for the soul. The fountains of thought and religioui
feeling are best filled thus. The best poems, speeches, sermons, are bom under
such conditio 18. John possessed another good qualification for his ministry
in the simplidity of his tastes and habits. '* A man who has no wants," says
Burke, "has obtained great freedom and firmness, and even dignity." II. The
DOCTBiNB of his ministry. He proclaimed the need of repentance. Where one man
objects to the ]preaching of searching truth, ten will approve it Confession of sin
is humbling but salutary. He told them of Christ who was about to come and
complete his imperfect work. Without Christ repentance is superficial. HL The
CHABACTEBisTics of his ministry. From its extraordinary effect, that mysterious in-
fluence of the Spirit, which gives the unction characteristic of all mighty preachersi,
must have distinguished John's ministry. The tones of the Holy Christ, with which
he was filled from his mother's womb, were heard in his preaching. Joined to this
supreme quality of the preacher, John had other qualities of a remarkable kind.
He was a direct preacher. He was a plain and faithful preacher. He magnified
Christ to the forgetfulness of himself. {A. H. Currier.) Nature's solitude
refreshing : — There is something in nature's solitudes most congenial and refreshing
to souls of the larger mould. Of William the Conqueror it is said that " he found
society only when he passed from the palace to the loneliness of the woods. He
loved the wild deer as though he had been their own father." (Ibid.) A faithful
ministry beneficent : — Such plainness of dealing may appear, at first thought, harsh
and repulsive. But before this judgment is given, it is well to inquire whether
plainness and fidehty on the part of the preacher are any proof of unkindness. Is
the keeper of a weather-signal station unkind, who hoists the storm-signal, that tha
shipping may stay in the harbour, or fly to its shelter, when word comes to him from
his chief that a storm is at hand t Let him fail once to do his duty. Instead of a
plain and truthful signal, let him put out an ambiguous or an unmeaning one, and
let the ships, which fill the harbour or cover the adjacent sea, sail forth and go on
in entire security, until the tempest comes and catches them in its irresistible grip
and scatters their wrecks along the shore. Then see the widows wring their hands
and wail, and their fatherless children cry over the lifeless dead, which lie stark
and cold on the sand, and say whether it was kind and good to keep back the
warning that might have prevented such iU. A child may complain of the robin
whose boding note prognosticates the rain which interferes with its play, but a man,
able to understand that God sends the rain, wUl thank the bird for the warning.
{Ibid.) It i$ not wise to disregard a faithful ministry : — They had the good
sense to perceive that the truth, though sometimes severe and painful, is neverthe-
less truth, and not to be run away from. As wisely might the sailor on a dangerous
coast, befogged in mist and xmcertain of the way, close his ears to the fog-bell which
warns him of the rocks, as for a sinful man to find fault with and avoid the messen-
ger of God, who proclaims that truth by which his soul is saved. Better is it tc
charge the messenger to hold back nothing. A reasonable soul fears nothing sc
much as those false delusions of the mind which soothe men's alarms and lull
concern to sleep — at last to destroy them. {Ibid.) John the fulfilment oj
prophecy : — The Old Testament is full of prophetic intimations and clear predictiom
concerning the coming Saviour. Beginning faintly and far away, they grow ir
distinetness and fulness, until John ushers in the long-expected Kedeem^r. Likt
CHAP. 1.] ST. MARK. H
the chorng of bird-songs which herald the dawn, which, beginning with the soft
chirp of a half-awakened songster, gradually increases and swells till the whole air
throbs with melody, so the prophetic strain which tells the coming Christ rises in
strength until He appears. (Ibid.)
Ver. 6. And there went out to him all the land of JuAtBSL.—The BaptUVs
audience : — It was a mixed multitude of almost every class. The other Evangelists
help us to realize its heterogeneous character. There were Pharisees, whose
scrupulous routine of external observance had woven around them a web of self-
satisfied pride ; and Sadducees, whose reaction from superstition had landed them
in a cold and heartless infidelity. Among these there would be followers of
Shammai, cleaving to tradition and rigidly orthodox ; sympathisers also with his
opponent Hillel, just emerging from that slavery to the letter which had taken the
very life out of their religion. There were soldiers, too, who, through the lawless
rapacity of their generals, had learned to think only of loot and plunder ; and the
hated publicans, with their overreaching and fraudulent exactions, the byword for
all that was lowest and most contemptible— all were there, and for all he had the
same message, ** Bepent." The Eabbis have a wonderful comment on the import
of that message. "If," they say, •'Israel would repent, they would be redeemed."
{H. M. Luckock, D.D.) What induced them to flock to him thusf — 1. The
excellency of his person. 2. The novelty of his doctrine. 3. The zeal and
earnestness of his preaching. 4. The strangeness of the place where he preached.
5. The austerity and strictness of his life. (G. Fetter.) The crowd going out to
the lonely man : — Notice, the man of the crowd goes to the man of the desert. The
publican, the soldier, even the Pharisee. Strange attraction this, yet recurrent.
He who knows most of himself, he who has learned himself in solitude, will know
most of others. It has ever been thus. The world has gone to the cloister, noft
the cloister to the world ; the city findB solace in the desert, never the desert in
the city. A few years ago, all Paris flocked to the Cnr§ d'Axs — an obscure pro-
vincial priest, without much learning or preaching power either, but they found in
him the fresh springs of comfort, the word of prophecy, the call to repentance,
which in every soul's solitude is the cry most certain to pierce. (H. R. Haweis^
M.A.) Secret of John Baptist's influence : — In one word, it was ** reality." In
an age of hollowness and hypocrisy never equalled before or since, such a character-
istic was bound to startle men and arrest their attention. The Baptist, if any one,
practised what he preached. His protest against sin was embodied by his example.
Take a single illustration from his habit and dress. He came to denounce luxury
and soft clothing and sumptuous fare, and he was a living example of the austerity
which he called for. {H. M. Luckock, D.D.) Coniessing sin : — Steps towards
conversion. 1. To seek an enlightened guide. 2. To open our heart to him, by
acquainting him with our manner of life. 8. To receive directions concerning
repentance from him. 4. To baptize ourselves, as it were, by his advice, in team
and works of mortification. It is an instinct and a duty which is, so to ipeak,
natural, for a man to confess his sins, and to humble himself for them, when once
he is touched with a true contrition ; but to do this is not at all natural to human
pride. Bepentance is a pool, or rather a river, which carries our impurities far
from us, so as never to be resumed again. Lord, Thou art the only one who can
put us into it I {QuesneL) The necessity of confession of sins : — There is a two-
fold confession of sins necessary in the practice of repentance. L To God. 1. It
must come from a feeling heart, touched with sense of sin and grieved for it : not
verbal, or from the teeth outward. 2. It must come from a hatred and loathing of
the sins confessed, not from fear of punishment merely. Saul. Pharaoh. 3. From
hope of mercy, else we witness against ourselves. Judas. 4. Free and voluntary,
not forced from us. God requires a freewill offering, else it is not pleasing to Him.
5. It must not be only in general terms, but there must be a laying open of our
particular known sins, so far as we can remember them. U. To men. Not always
necessary, but in some cases only. 1. When by our sins we have offended and
Bcandahzed men — either the Church in general, or some particular persons. 2.
When any sin lies heavy on our conscience, so that we cannot find ease or comfort.
In this case, it is necessary to open our hearts, and to acknowledge that sin which
troubles us, to some faithful pastor, or other Christian brother, who may minister
spiritual advice and comfort to us. {G. Fetter.) John the Baptist: — L Thb
PEEACHER. Fearless, honest, earnest ; and these characteristics are sure to attract
pubUo notice and confidence. The secret of bis power over men seems to have
12 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. i.
been that he was fully convinced that he was sent on a Divine mission, and was so
engrossed in fulfilling it, that he cared little for anything else. What John the
Baptist was was quite as effective preaching as anything he said. II. But if the
preacher was notable, his pkeaching was equally so. The man's words caught the
colour of his character. They were positive, straightforward, unmistakable. He
aimed directly at the great need of his generation. It was not a pleasing style of
address. When the Church preaches the simple gospel, men stop to listen and
prepare themselves to welcome Christ. The majority of men are not influenced by
mere doctrinal speculation, any more than a sham fight can determine the fortunes
of a nation. {Sermons by the Monday Club.) The inspiration of work for God: —
When he is conscious that he is sent of God as a messenger of glad tidings to
the poor and needy, how relatively unimportant all other business appears I When
he realizes that all the wealth and blessings of the kingdom of God are to be his
for ever, how trifling are the few temporary burdens he is called to bear 1 how petty
the sacrifices he is asked to make 1 It is said that when Pliny saw from a distance
the eruption of Vesuvius, he forsook his occupation and launched his boat and
rowed toward the flaming mountain, forgetting the labour and the peril in the fasci-
nation of the sight ; and when one sees, even from afar, the light of the city of
God, there is such longing to get nearer the brightness, that approach, at any cost,
seems cheap. You remember the old legend, which has been so beautifully done
into verse by one of our poets, of the monk who was charmed from his cell-door
by the singing of a bird, and, though the sweetness of the song was such that it
seemed to him that he only walked an hour, yet on his return he found that a
himdred years had passed. W^hen we are in such spiritual condition that we hear
heavenly voices calling us, no way of duty seems long or hard. The most exhaust-
ing service is a delight. What the Church wants is to know, like John the Baptist,
that its responsibility is its privilege, and then it will have zeal enough for ita
opportunity. What the individual Christian wants is to realize the grandeur of his
position and the greatness of his mission, and he will need no other urgency to
faitbfolness. (Ibid.) Efficiency more than refinement in work for God: —
Napoleon was once told by certain professionals that his impetuous methods were
uncivil and contrary to all military traditions. His reply to his critics was :
*' Gentlemen, battles are not to be won by compliance with the rules of etiquette,
by postponing action until the enemy is drawn up in line, and his officers, having
put on their gloves, stand hat in hand, saying, • We are ready. Will you please to
fire first ? ' — and to win the battle is what I am after." There is danger that the
Church may lay so much stress on what it calls the amenities and proprieties, that
it may fail to win the battle — the one thing which God has put it into the world
to do. (Ibid,)
Ver. 6. And John was clothed with earners hair. — Rules for tobriety in diet i —
1. It must not exceed our means. 2. It must not exceed our station, 3. It is to
be taken at fit times — when hunger dictates (Psa. cxlv. 16 ; Eccl. x. 16, 17). 4.
We must use such food as may serve to maintain strength and health of body, not
such as tends to the hurt and overthrow of our health. 6. Our food should be
such as may make us more fit for performance of the duties of our calling and
of God's service. (G. Fetter.) The BaptisVs plain fare : — Coarse meat they
were (locusts), but nature is content with little, grace with less. Bread and water
with the gospel are good cheer. Our Saviour hath taught us to pray for bread,
not for manchet or junkets, but downright household bread ; and Himself gave
thanks for barley-bread and broiled fishes. A little of the creature will serve turn
to carry thee through thy pilgrimage. One told a philosopher. If you will be con-
tent to please Dionysius, you need not feed upon green herbs. He replied, And if
you can feed upon green herbs, you need not please Dionysius ; you need not
flatter, comply, be base, &c. {John Trapp.) Why did John Baptist use such
mean apparel and diet : — 1. It was agreeable to the custom of the place were he
lived, and easy to be had there. 2. That he might resemble Ehas, in whose spirit
he was to go before Christ. 3. Because he was a Nazarite from his mother|a
womb. 4. Preaching the doctrine of repentance, he practised mortification in his
own person. 6. That he might procure reverence to his person, and authority to
his ministry, 6. To leave us a pattern and example of sobriety and temperance.
{G. Fetter.) Rule» to be used in the use of apparel, that it nuiy be sober and
moderate: — 1. According to our ability and maintenance in goods or lands. 2.
Answerable to our station and dignity, in that place and callinp' wherein we liv«.
I-J
ST. MARK. 1«
8. According to the laudable oastom of that country where we live. 4. Snoh as
may serve to express the inward graces and virtues of the mind, such as modesty,
humility, <feo. Therefore it must be comely and decent, not gaudy or garish. 6.
Following the example of the most grave and sober men and women that live in
the Church and are of our own rank ; not after that of the lightest and vainest lort
of the people. 6. Our apparel must be worn and used to the right ends for which
it is appointed by God. {Ibid.) Wild honey : — A good old French bishop, in
paying his annual visit to his clergy, was very much afflicted by the representa-
tions they made of their extreme poverty, which indeed the appearance of their
houses and families corroborated. While he was deploring the state of things
which had reduced them to this sad condition, he arrived at the house of a curate,
who, living amongst a poor set of parishioners, would, he feared, be in a still more
awful plight than the others. Contrary, however, to his expectations, he found ap-
pearances very much improved. Everything about the house wore the aspect of com-
fort and plenty. The good bishop was amazed. " How is this, my friend ? " said
he ; *' you are the first man I have met with a cheerful face and a plentiful board.
Have you any income in addition to the stipend of your cure f " "Yes, sir," said
the clergyman, *• I have ; my family would starve on the pittance I receive from
the poor people I instruct. Come with me into the garden, and I will show you
the stock that yields me an excellent interest." On going to the garden, he showed
the bishop a large range of bee-hives. ** There is the bank from which I draw an
annual dividend. It never stops payment."
Ver. 7. There cometh one mightier than I after me.— (7ftmf mightier than
I the Baptist: — This not then apparent. As the two met on the banks of the Jor-
1 dan it appeared the reverse : John the embodiment of matured strength ; mighty
I in word, wondrously successful ; the great man of the epoch. Jesus had given no
I evidence of greatness. But things are not what they seem. Jesus is mightier than
John. I. In His person. "The power of God." H. In His pbeachino.
'i Neither in manner nor matter did John " astonish" as Christ did. Christ's words
I were spirit and life. III. In His wobks. John did no miracle. IV. In thb pbb-
MANENCB OF His MiNisTBY. We hear the last of John's disciples in Acts xix. 1-7.
Christ's disciples are an ever-increasing body to-day. V. In His death. Christ's
death really began His ministry : John's closed his. VI. In His poweb oveb the
HUMAN HEART. John could only move its fears while he was here ; Christ can win
its love and devotion now that He has gone. {Anon.) Unloosing Eastern sandals : —
The custom of loosing the sandals from off the feet of an Eastern worshipper was
ancient and indispensable. It is also commonly observed in visits to great men.
The sandals, or slippers, are pulled off at the door, and either left there or given to
a servant to bear. The person to bear them was an inferior domestic, or attendant
upon a man of high rank, to take care of and to return them to him again. This
was the work of servants among the Jews, and it was reckoned so servile that it was
thought too mean for a scholar or disciple to do. The Jews say : •* All services which
a servant does for a master, a disciple does for his master, ei^cept unloosing his
Bhoes." John thought it was too great an honour for him to do that for Christ,
which was thought too mean for a disciple to do for a wise man. {Burder.)
The Baptist's humility : — The highest buildings have the lowest foundations. As
the roots of a tree descend so the branches ascend. The lower the ebb the
higher the tide. Those upon the mountains see only the fog beneath them,
whilst those in deep pits see the stars above them. The most fruitful
branches bow the lowest. The best trees refused to be king, but the bramble
effected it (Judg. ix). {Trapp.) Betiring with humility in favour of another: —
He retired with dignity and ease, and with a glowing tribute to our Lord's
Divinity. He had the instinct of the true teacher. That one who would not
rather see his disciple surpass him in memorable service for humanity is far
too small for his position. Michael Angelo's monument in the Westminster
Abbey of Florence is magnificent, and attracts all eyes ; but his humble teacher lies
beneath a slab of the church floor, and the very name is worn by the feet of wor-
shippers during the centuries. Who will complain that the two are misplaced ?
The teacher did his work well, and shines too in the fame of the master. But the
disciple had what the master never had. So He who had been baptized by John,
possessed what John did not have, and the beauty of John's ministry lay in m
recognition of this fact. He knew as well how to close his life as he had known how
to begin it. {Amer. Sunday School Times.) Shoe-strings; humble service : — Thif
M THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. i.
ig what John understood, and what you must understand, that it is an honour to
be permitted to do the humblest work for Jesus Christ. If when the queen was
aiding through our streets, with soldiers before her and soldiers behind, and orowde
of people all along the way, you stood there with a little bunch of flowers in your
hand and offered them to her, and she took them and thanked you with a smile, I
fancy you would be very proud because the queen had been pleased to accept your
little service. It was so John the Baptist felt : he felt that there were great, strong
angels who would have reckoned it an honour to be allowed to untie the Lord's
shoe-latchets, and while the Lord could have such pure servants as these, he
felt that he was unworthy the honour. {J, B. Howat.)
Vers. 9, 10. Jesxus came from Nazareth. — Nazareth of Galilee : The fitnett of the
gpot : — 1. Its seclusion. It lies in a narrow cleft in the limestone hills which form the
boundary of Zabulon, entirely out of the ordinary roads of commerce, so that none
could say that our Lord had learnt either from Gentiles or from rabbis. 2. Its beauty
and peacefulness. The flowers of Nazareth are famous, and the appearance of its
inhabitants shows its healthiness. It was a home of humble peace and plenty.
The fields of its green valley are fruitful, and the view from the hill which over-
shadows it is one of the loveliest and most historically striking in all Palestine,
(F. W. Farrar, D.D.) Nazareth: — The village of Nazareth is reached by a nar-
row, steep, and rough mountain path. But the distant view of the village itself,
in spring, is beautiful. Its streets rise in terraces on the hill-slopes toward the
north-west. The hills rise above it in an amphitheatre around to a height of five
hundred feet, and shut it in from the bleak winds of winter. The flat-roofed houses,
built of yellowish -white limestone of the neighbourhood, shine in the sun with a
dazzling brightness, from among gardens and fig-trees, olives, cypresses, and the
white and scarlet blossoms of the orange and pomegranate. (C. Geikie, D.D.)
Hidden worth: — Oh how much hidden worth is there, which, in this world, is either
lost in the dust of contempt and cannot be known, or wrapt up in the veil of humi-
lity and will not be known I But sooner or later it sTuill be known, as Christ's was
{M. Henry.) Jesus ChrisVs early youth and baptism : — I. There is here an inti-
mation of the fact, that Christ had hitherto resided in the city of Nazareth, in
lower Galilee. 1. The name of this city attached itself to Jesus Christ as a term of
reproach. 2. In this city Christ lived thirty years in seclusion, Ac. — discharging
the humble and homely duties of His station — thus obeyed the law in all its pre-
cepts. II. When Christ was about to show Himself to Israel, He came to John
TO BE baptized. He thus acknowledged the appointment of John, and honoured
his office. He was made subject to the law. He thus dedicated Himself to the
service of God. HI. The baptism of Christ was signaUzed by several miraculous
AND striking ACCOMPANIMENTS. 1. The heavcus were opened. 2. The Spirit de-
scended. 3. There was a voice from heaven. (Expository Outlines.) And was
baptized of John In Jordan. — Our Lord's baptism: — It is not possible for us to
understand the whole mystery of this act, but we may reverently consider some of
the motives which prompted the amazing condescension. 1. It may have been to
consecrate water for the remission of sins. Just as the brooding of the Spirit of God
upon the face of the waters at the first creation reduced order out of chaos, and
prepared that element for all the purifications of the first dispensation ; so when
the moral re-creation of the world was inaugurated the operation of the same Blessed
Agent, descending upon our Lord in the river Jordan, sanctified water to the
mystical washing away of sin. 3. It may also have been that He designed thereby
to be made one with His brethren, or to taste for their sakes at the outset of Hi?
ministry that curse of sin which He felt in all its intolerable burden at the close,
before His cry of desolation. 3. Another motive He has expressly revealed. When
the Baptist shrank back from an act that must have seemed profane, He pointed
out that it was incumbent on Him to show an example of perfect obedience to His
Father's will. 4. Underlying this resolution of obedience was the consciousness of
a deep humiliation. His self-abasement reached its lowest depth in His baptism.
To be misinterpreted and misunderstood at every step was bad enough ; but to be
told that by His own confession He was a sinner, one with publicans and harlots,
and that by His own act and deed He admitted His guilt and sought to have it
removed — such self-abasement is more than man can either measure or conceive. {H.
M. Luckock, D.D,) The public commencement of a great life: — I. That it emerged
FROM comparative OBSCURITY. '* From Nazareth of Galilee." Christ's coming from
Nazareth would tend — 1. To correct the proud notions of those to whom He came
CHAP. X.} ST. MAR^, 15
2. It wonld be a means of self -discipline. 11. That it was charactebized bt TBim
HUMiLrrT. 1. Humility was shown in appreciating the worth of another man's
work. 2. By giving pre-eminence to a man of inferior moral worth. 3. By sub-
mitting to the ceremoniaUsms of life. HI. That it was favoubed with euppt
VISIONS — ** He saw the heavens opened." 1. Christ was favoured with a revelation
of the unseen world. 2. This revelation was given in the performance of a com-
paratively trivial duty. IV. Chsist was honoubbd by a Divine commendation —
*' This is my beloved son/* Ao. 1. This commendation was paternal. 2. It
was sympathetic. Learn : 1. Comparative solitude is the best preparation for a life
of public usefulness. 2. That men are not to be judged by the surroundings of
their childhood. 3. That humility is the true adornment of a young man about to
commence public life. 4. The happy interchange of sympathy between heaven and
a truly pious soul. {Joseph S, Exell^ M.A.) The baptism of Christ: — Note, L
The time of it — "In those days," a.d. 28, Jesus thirty years of age, the age at
which the Levites began their ministry. II. The piiAOB of it. Either the ancient
ford at Succoth or near Jericho. HI. The manneb of it. Of John. In Jordan. To
fulfil all righteousness. IV. The blessing that followed it. Credentials of Messiah-
ship. Anointing for ministry with power (Of. Bom. i, 4 ; Acts x. 38). Tranquility
(Dove ; see Isa. vi. 6). Expression of Divine favour. {H. Thome.) The baptism
of Christ: Its significance .'—JeBua was baptized by His forerunner, who was both
the representative of the old economy and the preacher of repentance for the new.
I. In the former relation the Baptist performed on the person of the Christian High
Priest the washing which preceded His anointing with the Holy Spirit. The typical
high priests were washed before their anointing. II. In the latter relation the
preacher of repentance administered the pledge of penitent washing for the Messiah
to One who was also the representative of sinful man. Two ends were thus accom-
plished. 1. Christ was baptized as the Head and Surety of the human race ; assum-
ing in its symbol the transgression of mankind. 2. He was designated as the
Messiah, in whom were combined all the offices to which His types were of old
anointed. In the former sense, His baptism represented a sin assumed but not
shared ; He was " numbered with the transgressors," and " came by water " before
He came by " blood." In the latter it represented the perfect purity which His
pre-eminent ministry required ; the water represented not the cleansing, but the
absense of the need of purification. {W. B. Pope, D.D.) The Baptism of Jesus : —
If we can distinguish between the important and the nnimportant in this scene,
between the transient and the permanent, we shall not study it in vain. Essential
truths do not grow old. 1. Applying this test we find that one of the unessential
truths eonceming Christ's baptism is its mode. The exact mode could not be re-
produced ; none of us can have the Jordan ford for our baptismal font. 2. The
heavenly phenomena accompanying the baptism are not among its essential features.
The accessories cannot, from their very nature, be universaL What then were the
essential features ? I. Chbist oub Lobd there set fob us k pebfect example ov
PEBFECT obedience. Baptism was an ordinance of Ood ; Christ will not exempt
Himself from any duty. Why should I be baptized? Because God commands it
Have you less need than Christ ? The King of Glory did not despise it as ♦♦ a mere
form of the Church." He received baptism as ratifying the mission of His great
forerunner, and He also received it as the beautiful symbol of moral purification and
the humble inauguration of a ministry which came " not to destroy the law but to
fulfil." n. That it was His way of publicly benouncing sih and publicly pbo-
FB88INO BELiGioN. Christ is our Example as well as Eedeemer. Every true follower
of Christ must publicly renounce his sins and confess his faith. III. The evident
APpBOVAii OF THE Fatheb IN HEAVEN. {Sermous by the Monday Club.) The baptism
of Jesus : — I. The baptism of Jesus was the sign of the close of John's commis-
sion AS THE FOBERUNNEB. Evcry ministry has its culmination. Well if it be borne
with John's self-abnegation and humility 1 II. The baptism of Jesus was the sign
OP THE OPENING OF ChRIST'S COMMISSION AS THE ReDEEMBB. III. ThE BAPTISM OF
Jesus was the sign of a new era of spiritual influence. This gift now was the
prelude and foretoken of that great pentecostal bestowment. IV. The B4Pti8M of
Jesus was the sign of the speedy fulfilment of the Father's great design of
REDEEMING LOVE. V. I*BA0TiCAL LESSONS. 1. It should cnhauce OUT love to Jesus
to see Him identifying Himself with all His sinful people. 2. We have an example
of reverance for all God's ordinances. 3. Baptism significant in connection with
Christ's own baptism. When it is more than a mere ceremony it is our burial with
Christ into His death, pledges us to fulfil all righteousness. 4. Christ kept His
16 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR.
baptismal tow. He has falfilled all righteonBness, not for Himself alone, bnt for
His people also. {Anon.) The Saviour^ $ consecration to His work : — I. Our Lord
WAS CONSECKATED TO HiS WORK BT Hl8 BAPTISM BY THE FOBERDNNEB. The inferior
started the superior on His public work. Many a man has received the first open
recognition of his mission from one mentally and spiritually lower than himself,
II. Our Lord was consecrated to His wore bt prater. St. Luke, who calls atten-
tion frequently to the prayers of Jesus, alone mentions this important fact. No
great work should be entered on without prayer, especially no work connected with
God's kingdom. IH. Oub Lord was consbobated to His work bt thb onrr of the
Spirit. Outward ordinances, as the laying on of hands, &g., are for this end, &c.
rV. Our Lord was consecrated to His work bt the approval or the Father. The
approval and blessing of God are essential to a true work. {Anon.) The corona-
tion of the King : — The baptism was, on His part, the assumption of His Messianic
office ; and on God's, His anointing or coronation as the King. There are three
stages in this lesson : The preUminary dialogue, which explains the paradox of the
baptism of the sinless by and with the sinful, the Divine anointing of the King, and
the Divine proclamation. I. The becomingness op the apparentlt unbecomino
BAPTISM. The stem preacher bows in lowliest abasement before his carpenter
cousin, and feels that his own character shows black against that lustrous whiteness.
Who would have thought, when John was flashing and thundering against sin, that
such sense of his own evil underlay his boldness ? He clearly feels that Jesus is
his superior, and needs no baptism of repentance. How had he come to this con-
viction ? Difficulties have been raised as to the consistency of these words with his
declaration that he *♦ knew Him not." But, not to dwell on the fact that anticipa-
tions and expectations are not knowledge, why should this insight into the character
of Jesus not have then been granted to him by prophetic intuition, as he gazed on
the gentle face ? Why should not the Divine voice V)ave then for the first time
sounded in John's heart, "Arise, anoint Him: f or tKiii is He"? It is a pure as-
sumption that John had previous knowledge of Jesus. The city in the hill country
of Judaea where his boyhood had possibly been passed, was far from Nazareth, and
he had very early betaken himself to the desert and its isolation. The circum-
stances of the nativity may, or may not, have been known to him ; but there is no
reason to explain this conviction of the inappropriateness of his baptism of Jesus by
previous knowledge. The other explanation seems to me both more probable and
more accordant with his prophetic office. Christ accepts without demur the place
which John gives Him. He ^ways accepted the highest place which any man put
Him in, and never rebuked any estimate of Himself as enthusiastic or too lofty.
If Jesus had not up till that moment lived a perfectly sinless life, He committed a
black sin in tacitly endorsing this estimate of Him. If He had lived such a life, on
what theory of His nature is it explicable ? A sinless man must be more than man.
The fame consciousness of blamelessness is put into plain words in His answer to
John, which is Jesus' own explanation of His baptism. It was an act of obedience
to a Divine appointment, and therefore it " became" Him. It was the fulfilment of
"righteousness; " that is to say, Jesus did not confess sin, but professed sinlessness
in His baptism, and submitted to it, not because He needed cleansing, but because
it was appointed as the duty for the nation of which He was a member. Why,
then, was He baptized ? For the same reason for which He was found in the like-
ness of the flesh of sin, and submitted to other requirements of the law from which
as Son He was free, and bore the sorrows which were not the issue of His own sins,
and went down at last to the other baptism with which He had to be baptized,
though His pure life had for itself no need to pass through that awful submersion
beneath the black, cold waters of death. The whole mystery of His identification
of Himself with sinful men, and of His being " made sin . . . for ns, who knew no
sin," lies in germ in His baptism by John. No other conception of its meaning
does justice to the facts. H. We have next the Divine anointing or coronation.
The •ymbol of the dove seems to carry allusions to the grand image which repre-
sents the Spirit of God as " brooding over chaos, and quickening hfe, as a bird in
its nest by the warmth of its own soft breast ; to the dove which bore the olive-
branch, first messenger of hope to the prisoners in the ark ; to the use of the dove
AS clean, in sacrifice ; to the poetical attribution to it, coaimon to many nations, of
meek gentleness and faithful love. Set side by side with that, John's thought of
the Holy Spirit as fire, and we get all the beauty of both emblems increased, and
understand how much the stem ascetic, whose words burned and blistered, had to
learn. He knew "what manner of spirit" the King possessed and bestowed.
CHAP. I.] ST. MARK. 17 '
Meekness is throned now. Gentleness is stronger than force. The dove conqnerB
Eome's eagles and every strong- taloned, sharp-beaked bird of prey. ** The Prince
of the kings of the earth" is anointed by the descending dove, and His second
coronation is with thorns, and a reed is His sceptre ; for His kingdom is based on
parity and meekness, is won by suffering, and wielded in gentleness. As ii the
King, 8o are His subjects, whose only weapons He has assigned when He bids them
be " harmless as doves." The purpose of this descent of the Spirit on Jesus was
twofold. In John's Gospel it is represented as principally meant to certify the
Baptist of the identity of the Messiah. But we cannot exclude its effect on Jesus.
For Him it was the Divine anointing for His mediatorial work. A king is king before
he is anointed or crowned. These are but the signs of what we may call the official
assumption of His royalty. We are not to conceive that Jesus then began to be
filled with the Spirit, or Uiat absolutely new powers were given to Him then. No
doubt the anointing did mark a stage in His human development, and the accession
to His manhood of all that was needed to equip it for His work. But the Spirit of
God had formed His pure manhood ere He was bom, and had dwelt in growing
measure in His growing spirit, through all His sinless thirty years. Since He was
a man, He needed the Divine Spirit. Since He was a sinless man, He was capable
of receiving it in perfect measure and unbroken continuity. Since His baptism
began His public career. He needed then, and then received, the anointing which at
once designated and fitted Him for His work of witnessing and atonement. IH. Wb
nkYJt riNALLY THB DiVINB PROCLAMATION. GOD HlMSEI<r TAKES THK HEBALd's OFFICE.
The coronation ends with the solemn recitation of the style and title of the King.
Two Old Testament passages seem to be melted together in it : that in the second
Psalm, which says to the Messianic King, ♦* Thou art My Son ; " that in Isaiah xlii. 1,
which calls on the nations to ** behold . . . Mine elect, in whom My soul de-
lighteth." God speaks from heaven, and quotes a psalm and a prophet. Why
shonld He not speak from heaven an illuminating word, which interprets whole
regions of the Old Testament ? This Divine testimony touches first the mystery of
our Lord's nature. *• Son of God " is not merely a synonym of Messiah, but it
includes the distinct conception of Divine origin and of consequent Divine nature.
The name implies that the relation between Him and the Father is unique. The
voice attests the Divine complacency in Him. The form of the verb in the Greek
implies a definite past delight of the Father in the Son, and carries back ouz
thoughts to that wonderful intercourse of which Jesus lets us catch some faint
glimpse when He says, " Thou lovedst Me before the foundation of the world."
From eternity the mysterious depths of the Divine nature moved in soft waves of
love, and in its solitude there was society. Nor can we leave out of view the thought
that the Father's delight in the Son is through the Son extended to all who love
and trust the Son. In Jesna, God is well pleased towards us. That complacent
delight embraces ua too, if we become sons through faith in the only begotten Son.
The dove that rested on His head will come and nestle in our hearts, and brood
there, OTcr their chaos, if we have faith in Christ. {A, McLareUt D.D.)
Ver. 10. The lieayens opened. — The Divine Trinity : — This was the inauguration
and proclamation of the Messias, when He began to be the great Prophet of the
New Covenant. And this was the greatest meeting that ever was upon the earth,
where the whole cabinet of the mysterious Trinity was opened and shown, as much
as the capacities of our present imperfections will permit ; the Second Person in the
veil of humanity ; the Third in the shape, or with the motion, of a dove : but the
First kept His primitive state ; and as to the Israelites He gave notice by way of
caution, '* Ye saw no shape, but ye heard a voice," so now also God the Father
gave testimony to His Holy Son, and appeared only in a voice, without any visible
representment. (Bishop Jeremy Taylor.) The Spirit like a dove. — Like a dove: —
A most captivating symbol. The eagle, too, was in our Lord ; everything about
Him was mingled with the sublime ; but the dove was predominant. Not only
while on earth, but all along the ages, it is the power of His gentleness and
tenderness and meekness — His love, in short, that has been victorious. He has
••wooed "and "won." (J. Morison^ D.D.) Dovelike propertiei in Christ: — I.
IjfNocENT and harmless (Heb. vii. 26). XL Lovino and tender-hearted (Eph. iii.
19). lU. Meek and gentle (Matt xi. 29). This is matter of singular comfort to
the faithful members of Christ : for Chnst being innocent and harmless like the
dove, yea, pure from all spot of sin, this His purity and holiness is imputed to so
many as truly believe in Him; and by it they are accepted, as holy and pure
18 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. i.
through Christ, though in themselves they are polluted and sinful. Again, Christ
being also a loving, gentle, and meek Saviour, He will not deal with us in rigour
or wrath ; but in compassion, love, and gentleness, accepting our weak endeavours
in His service, pardoning our wants and infirmities, and cherishing in us the
smallest beginnings of grace (Isaiah xlii. 2, 3). Strive we to imitate our Saviour
Christ in these properties of the dove. (G. Fetter.) The dove temper in the
Church: — The Holy Spirit came as a dove, a gentle, joyous creature, with no
bitterness of gall, no fierceness of bite, no violence of rending claws, loving human
houses, associating within one home ; nurturing their young together ; when they
fly abroad, hanging in their flight side by side ; leading their life in mutual inter-
course ; giving in concord the kiss of peace with the biU ; in every way fulfilling
the law of unanimity. This is the singleness of heart that ought to be in the
Church ; this is the habit of love that must be obtained. (Cyprian.) How to
improve our baptism: — To quicken you to improve your baptism consider — I.
Baptism is a PEEPETUAii bond obliginq us to repentance and a holy utb (Rom. vi.
2-4 ; Col. iii. 8, 9). II. The dipbovement op baptism is the best pbepabation op
THE Lobd's Sdppeb (Johu xiii. 8). Before the Church, none but baptized persons
have a right to the Lord's Table ; before God, none but those who have the fruit
of baptism have a right to the benefit thereof. III. If we improve it not, baptism
wHiii BE A WITNESS AGAINST US. One ElpidophoTUS relapsed into Arianism, and the
deacon who baptized him showed him the garments in which he had been baptized,
and said, •• These shall be a witness against thee to all eternity." But how shall
we improve it f 1. We must personally and solemnly own the covenant made with
God in infancy. What was then done for us must now be done by us. 2. Renew
often the sense of obligation to God, and keep a constant reckoning of obedience
(2 Pet. i. 9). 3. Use frequent self-reflection to know whether you are indeed
washed from the guilt and filth of sin (1 Cor. vi. 11). 4. Use it as a great help in
all temptations (1 Cor. vi. 15) . Dionysia comforted her son Majoricus, an African
martyr, with this speech, " Remember, my son, that thou art baptized in the name
of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, and be constant." Luther, when tempted to
despair, used to say, " I am baptized, and believe in Christ crucified." {T. Manton.)
After baptism: — ^I. New revelations gained — "The heavens were opened." II.
New GIFTS iupabted — *• The Spirit." III. New witness enjoyed — '• Thou art My
beloved Son." IV. New tbial imposed — " Tempted of Satan." V. New tbiumphb
SECUBED. VI. New pbivileges confebbed — *' And angels ministered onto Him."
VII. Nbw work assigned—" Preaching the gospeL"
Yer. 11. Thou art My beloved Son. — Humiliation and exaltation: — It will be
well for us to remember that our great Example was most highly exalted just when
His humiliation was deepest ; that it was when He had made Himself one with the
sons of men that He was declared to be the Son — the beloved Son — of God. It is
a pledge that the lowly, submissive spirit will be greatly sanctified, and that there
is no surer way to win the approval of God than by yielding our wills to the
authority of those set over us by the Lord, and striving to c&Tvy out the rules of
the Church in the spirit of Him who accepted at once what His Father had
appointed. " God resisteth the proud, but giveth grace to the humble. " {H. M.
Luekock, D.D.) " My beloved Son "; — L An expbession of afpection and appboval.
The Father bore witness to the Son. Not for Christ's sake only, but for ours, came
that voice, approving the character and authenticatiug the mission of the Son of
God. II. Ax implicit and authobitative appeal for human faith, attachment,
and obedience. He of whom the Father thus speaks, is worthy of all our honour,
gratitude, and devotion. (Family Churchman.)
Vers. 12, 13. — The Spirit driveth Him into the wilderness. — T?ie temptation of
Christ : — An awful and mysterious passage in the life of One whose tastes and
habits were the very opposite of those of the prophet of the desert — One who loved
men and cities, free social intercourse, and scenes of active usefulness. No sooner
does Jesus undergo the high consecration of baptism than, instead of stepping forth
into public life, He flees to solitude. We cannot unveil the deep mystery of this
season of thought and trial. But may we not suppose that when the Spirit
descended on Christ, He who had so suffered the limitations of humanity as
already to have need^ to grow in wisdom and strength, may first have realized, in
His hnman thought, the tremendous import of His mission, and at the same time
CHAP. I.} 8T, MARK. 1%
may first have grasped the superhuman powers with which to work miracles ? If
80, overwhelmed with the vision before Him, He may well have sought solitude to
meditate on His great work, to obtain inward mastery of His own stupendoaa
powers, and to wrestle with and conquer the fearful temptations that would rise up,
urging Him to desecrate those powers to selfish purposes. I. Christ was tempted.
He was not only tested as by a touchstone, but by the more searching ordeal of a
direct persuasion to evil. In all there is a lower as well as a higher nature, a self-
interest as well as a conscience of duty. If Christ was tempted, it follows that (1)
no innocence and no strength can make a soul unassailable by temptation, and (2)
to feel the force of temptation is no proof of guilty compliance. II. Christ was
tempted by Satan. Temptation arises from without as well as from our own hearts.
This is why the purest mind is liable to it. III. Christ was tempted at the com-
mencement OF His mission. The greatest obstacles often beset the first steps of a
new course — in attempting a new work, in first attacking a bad habit, in entering
on the Christian life. This tests genuineness and teaches humility, self-diffidence,
and reliance on God. It is a great thing to begin the Christian campaign with a
victory in the first battle. IV. Christ was tempted when undeb high spibitual
INFLUENCES. *' The Spirit driveth Him." 1. God permits, nay, requires, us to pass
through the fire of temptation. 2. Great spiritual elation is often followed by deep
depression. 3. New endowments bring new dangers. They who stand highest are
in danger of falling lowest. V. Christ was tempted in the wildebness, 1. John
found the desert the best scene for his life and work, Christ found it a region of evil
influences. As one man's paradise may be the purgatory of another, so the haven
of refuge of one may be his brother's most dangerous snare. 2. Christ was tempted
in a solitary place. We cannot escape temptation by fleeing from the world ; we
carry the world with us to our retreat. {W. F. Adeney, M.A.) The wilderness : —
This wilderness has been identified, by the voice of tradition, in the Greek and
Latin Churches, as that wild and lonely region between Jerusalem and the Dead
Sea, called in modem geography, Quarantania. It is an extensive plateau, elevated
to a considerable height above the plain of Jericho and the west bank of the Jordan ;
and hence the literal accuracy of the expression in St. Matthew, that Jesus was •• led
up *' into the wilderness. Travellers have described it as a barren, sterile waste of
painful whiteness, shut in on the west by a ridge of grey limestone hills, moulded
into every conceivable shape ; while on the east the view is closed by the gigantic
wall of the Moab mountains, appearing very near at hand, but in reality a long way
off, the deception being caused by the nature of the intervening ground, which
possesses no marked features, no difference of colour on which to fix the eye for the
purpose of forming an estimate of distance. Over this vast expanse of upland
country there are signs of vegetation only in two or three places, where winter
torrents have scooped out a channel for themselves, and stimulate year after year
into brief existence narrow strips of verdure along their banks. The monotony of
the landscape and the uniformity of its colouring are varied only when the glaring
afternoon sun projects the shadows of the ghostly rocks across the plain, or, at rare
intervals, when a snowy cloud, that seems as if bom of the hills themselves, sails
across the deep blue sky and casts down on the desolate scene the cool dark mantle
of its shade. ▲ more dreary and lonely scene it is impossible to imagine. {U,
Macmillan^ LL.D,) Man led into temptation for his good: — Here we learn that
God is our Leader into all things which are good for our souls, and that even temp-
tation may be good for us. The same Holy Spirit who led Jesus into the wilderness
leads us thither too. 1. Christ went into a desert to make expiation for the sins
which are committed in society. 2. He went to endure fasting for man's luxury ;
to suffer want for man's extravagance. 3. He went into the wilderness immediately
after His baptism, teaching us thereby that those who are baptized should die from
sin and rise again unto righteousness. 4. It is absolutely necessary for us all some-
times to stand aside from the busy crowd, and to seek quiet and retirement for
prayer and self-examination, without which our spiritual life must grow feebler and
fainter till it dies. {H. J. Wilmot Buxton, M.A.) Temptation follows blessing : —
Note that it was immediately after His baptism our Lord was led into the wilderness
to be tempted. Satan, like a pirate, sets on a ship that is richly laden ; so when a
soul hath been laden with spiritual comforts, now the devil will be shooting at him
to rob him of all. The devil envies to see a soul feasted with spiritual joy. Joseph's
parti-coloured coat made his brethren envy him and plot against him. After David
had the good news of the pardon of his sin (whic must needs fill vrith consolation),
Satan presently tempted him to a new sin in numbering the people ; and so all his
aO rfl^ BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. i.
comfort leaked out ard was spilt. {T.Wat$on.) Satanic temptations: — I. That
THEY COME TO THE BEST OF MEN. 1. To test the wotk and progress of their moral
character. 2. To impart to moral character new traits of beauty. II. That thby
OFTEN FOLiiOw TIMES OF HAPPY COMMUNION WITH GoD. 1. Thesc altered conditions
of soul are often sudden. 2. They are disciplinary. 3. They are unwelcome.
III. That they makk important ceises ut the spiritual history of the coon.
1. They aid self-interpretation. 2. They give insight into the problem of sin. 3.
They afford an opportunity of asserting moral supremacy. IV. That they abx
FREQUENTLY FOLLOWED BY THE SOOTHING MINISTRIES OF HEAVEN. 1. These ministries
are angelic. 2. They are personal. 3. They are opportune. 4. They are soothing.
Lessons : 1. That temptation should not cause us to depreciate the worth of our
moral character. 2. That temptation should increase our knowledge of self, and
enhance the progress of our being. 3. That the devotions of the good should pre-
pare them for struggle with evil. 4. That solitude is no safeguard against tempta-
tion. 5. That heavenly ministries are at the disposal of a tempted, but prayerful, soul,
6. That man has the power to resist the strongest opposition of hell. {Joseph S.
Exell, M.A.) The temptation of Christ : — It was not a vision but an actual occur-
rence between a personal Saviour and a personal devil. I. The CiRCUMSTANCBa.
1. The time. After His baptism. Before His public ministry. 2. The place. It
was solitary, dreary, dangerous. 3. The Divine agency. Appointed and regulated
by God. 4. Angelic ministrations. IL Th« details. 1. To the use of unlawful
means of extrication from difficulties. 2. To presumption on Divine support under
self-sought dangers. 3. To spiritual idolatry. lU. Its uses. 1. It tried His
character as a man and as a Mediator. 2. It showed His power to overcome the
devil. 3. It qualified Him to sympathize with His people. IV. Its lessons.
1. From the contrast between the issues of the temptation in paradise and of that
in the wilderness. 2. From the instrument which was used in repelling the tempta-
tion. The sword of the Spirit. 3. From the hopes it inspires of victory over all
our enemies. (Various.) Jordan exchanged for the toildemess: — From the
baptism He went ap, as it were, towards God as the " Beloved Son ; " but from the
temptation He comes earthward as the Son of Man. The Jordan lies on the
heavenly, the wilderness on the earthly, side of Christ. There is a "river,"
but there is no wilderness, in heaven. {Dr. Parker.) Christ tempted of the
devil: — I. Christ, having received the Spirit, ever after lived under His im-
MEDIATE auiDANCB. 1. Everything that Christ said and did expressed the mind
of the Spirit. In this respect He is an example. 2. The intensity with which Christ
acted is expressed by the word " driveth." 3. The Spirit, as a leader, often takes into
the wilderness. IL Christ having been formally anointed to His offices, prepares
HiMSEU BY FASTING AND PRAYER FOB His WORK. It was after Christ had spent forty
days in this employment that He was tempted. He afterwards acted in the same
manner. Our example. III. Christ having retired into the wilderness, Hb
▲zxowED Himself to be tempted of the devil. IV. The temptation of Christ fol-
lowed CLOSE UPON THE ENJOYMENT OF THE HIGHEST RELIGIOUS PRIVILEGES. V. Christ
was tempted in a place into which the Spirit eiad led Him. VL It is stated that
Christ, during His stay in the wilderness, was with the wild beasts. VII. On this
and other occasions angels ministered to Christ. {Expository Outlines.) Satanic
agency : — I. Satan, the prince of devils. Numbers of his agents. His apostasy,
and ruin of man. His power on earth, a kingdom. Organized. Long almost
undisputed. II. Christ came to dispute his authorttt. Took an affecting view
of human vassalage. lU. Satan, aware of His advent, undertook to conduct His
TEMPTATION. Made His life an incessant conflict. IV. The defeat of Satan quite
reconcilable with his present prevalence. V. Galled a spirit, to excite oub
VIGILANCE. An unclean spirit, to awaken our antipathy. His influence over the
heart, great. But only exercised with our consent. VI. The period of his reign
LIMITED. (i7. HarriSt D.D.) Solitude : — 1. Its perils. Eve was tempted when
she was alone ; the suicide succumbs when he is pushed with the last degree ol
loneUness ; the darkest thoughts of the conspirator becloud the mind when he has
most deeply cut the social bond ; when man is alone he loses the check of com-
parison with others ; he miscalculates his force, and deems too little the antagonism
that force may excite. II. Its advantages. The risks of sohtude are in proportion
to its value. Man cannot reach his full stature in the market-place or in association
with the excited throng. The desert was to Christ a holy place after the initial
battle. In the flrst instance He was led up into it to be tempted; but often
afterwards to be comforted. {Ecce Deus.) Life not all wilderness: — Som«
OHAY. z.] ST. MARK. 21
people see nothing in the world but the wilderness, the devil, and the wild
beasts. Besist these temptations, and thou wilt find it full of angels. {R. Glover.)
Tempted of Satan. — The number forty in Scripture: — The number forty seems
to have had a special mystical meaning. Nine instances in the Bible of events
which occurred for forty days or years. 1. The Flood. 2. Bodies embalmed forty
days before burial. 3. Israel's wanderings. 4. Goliath's defiance of IsraeL 6.
Elijah fasted. 6. Ezekiel bore the iniquity of Judah. 7. Bepentance of Nineveh.
8. Our Lord's temptation. 9. Interval between resurrection and ascension. (JJ.
J. Wilmot Buxtorit M.A.) Temptation: — The word temptation has three mean*
ings in the Bible. 1. A trial of our faith, to bring out some hidden virtue. Thus
Abraham was tempted of God. 2. A provoking to anger. Thus we tempt Gk>d
(Psalms zcv. 9, cvi. 14). So we say of a provoking person that he has a trying
temper. 3. A leading into sin. Thus we are tempted of the devil. {Ibid.) Why
does God allow u$ to be tempted 1 — 1. To strengthen our faith. The unused limb
becomes weak and tender ; the neglected instrument of music gets out of tune ; the
untouched weapon loses its keen edge. So, many a man knows nothing of self-
denial until God tries him by a great sorrow. 2. To bring out latent good qualities.
3. To make us watchful. We must prove our armour. We must learn our weak
points. 4. That He may one day give us our reward (James i. 12). {Ibid.)
Ghrist*t stuceptibility to temptation : — ^Did Christ, then, merely suffer in the wilder-
ness as any other man has done ? Suffering is a question of nature. The edu-
cated man suffers more than the uneducated man ; the poet probably suffers more
than the mathematician ; the commanding of&cer suffers more in a defeat than the
common soldier. The more life, the more suffering : the billows of sorrow being in
proportion to the volume of our manhood. Now Jesus Christ was not merely a man,
He was Man ; and by the very compass of His manhood. He suffered more than any
mortal can endure. The storm may pass as fiercely over the shallow lake as over
the Atlantic, but by its very volume the latter is more terribly shaken. No other
man had come with Christ's ideas; in no other man was the element of sell so
entirely abnegated ; no other man had offered such opposition to diabolic rule ; all
these circumstances combine to render Christ's temptation unique, yet not one of
them puts Christ so far away as to prevent us finding in His temptation unfailing
solace and strength. {Joseph Parker, D.D.) Satan's opportunity : — No sooner
was Christ out of the water of baptism than He is thrust into the fire of temptation.
So David, after his anointing, was hunted as a partridge upon the mountains.
Israel is no sooner out of Egypt than Pharaoh pursues them. Hezekiah had no
sooner left that solemn passover than Sennacherib comes up against him. St. Paul
is assaulted with vile temptations after the abundance of his revelations ; and Christ
teaches us, after forgiveness of sins, to look for temptations, and to pray against
them. While Jacob would be Laban's drudge and packhorse, all was well ; but
when once he began to flee, he makes after him with all his might. All was quiet
enough at Ephesus before St. Paul came thither ; but then '* there arose no small
stir about ♦ the way.' *' All the while our Saviour lay in His father's shop, and
meddled only with carpenter's chips, the devil troubled Him not ; but now that He
is to enter more publicly upon His oflEice of mediatorship, the tempter pierceth His
tender soul with many sorrows by solicitation to sin. {John Trapp.) Satan*$
wilinesi: — The lion is said to be boldest in the storm. His roar, it is said,
never sounds so loud as in the pauses of the thunder ; and when the lightning
flashes, brightest are the flashes of his cruel eye. Even so he who goeth about as
a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour, often seizes the hour of nature's
greatest distress to assault us with his fiercest temptations. He tempted Job when
he was bowed down with grief. He tempted Peter when he was weary with watch-
ing and heart-broken with sorrow. And here, too, he tempts Jesus Christ when He
is faint with hunger. {T. Guthrie, D.D.) Subtlety of Satan'i temptations : —
Satan will lie in wait for the Christian in his time of weakness, even as the wild
beasts do at the water side for the cattle coming to drink. Nay, when having re-
sisted manfully, the Christian has driven off the enemy, he should look well that
he be not wounded by the vanquished foe, who often makes a Parthian retreat. {J.
G. Pilkington.) Temptation not necessarily hurtful : — It is when a child of Qod
is fullest of grace ; when he has been declared to be a " son," even a •* beloved son "
of (;h)d ; when he has made a public profession of Christianity, that he is most of
all exposed to temptation. It seems strange, at first thought, that it should be so ;
but a little reflection dissipates the strangeness. Let me try to illustrate this. A
toolmaker, I suppose, has finished an instrument, but it is not yet sent forth. Why T
22 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap, t.
Because he has not " tested " it. "Weill Enter we his workshop. Ton look in
and observe the process. Your first impression is, he is going to break it. But it
is not so. Testing is not an injury. The perfect weapon comes out the stronger,
and receives the stamp that will carry it over the world. Even so the testing and
trying of the Christian is not an injury. He who has formed the believer for Him-
self is not going to break or destroy the work, the beautiful work of His own hands.
He is purifying, fitting, fashioning, polishing. Carry this along with you, and you will
understand how it comes about that at the very moment of your being '* full " of the
Holy Ghost, at the very moment of your announced sonship, you are most violently
assailed. {A. B. Grosart, D.D.) I. Sonship does not exempt from temptation.
II. Temptation does not invalidate sonship. III. Temptation, bightly considered,
makes sonship a life and power. [J. Parker, D.D.) Our relation to Adam's temp-
tation and to GhrisVs: — Adam yielded; Christ overcame. Adam's sin contains all the
sin of his children ; Christ's victory contains all the victories of His people. There
was the vice of all sinning in the one, and there was the virtue of all oonqnering in the
other, When we sin we go down to that sin by the same steps which Adam trod,
and when we foil the tempter, we do so with the same weapons that Christ wielded.
{Dean Vauglian.) Why men are tempted : — Man is like iron fresh from the mine.
The worker of the rude metal will thrust a crude bar of it into the blazing furnace,
and turn it hither and thither in the glowing fires, and then lay it on the anvil, and
beat it with innumerable blows, and crush it between inexorable rollers, and plunge
it into the smothering charcoal, and turn and thrust and temper it, till at length it
is DO longer the hard, brittle, half earthy material, but something different —
tougher, stronger, purer, and more valuable. He does this that the worthless may
become useful, and that iron ore may be converted into steel. {S. Greg.) An
important interview : — At one o'clock precisely on the 25th of Jane, 1807, two boats
put off from opposite banks of the Niemen, at the little town of Tilsit. They rowed
towards a raft in the middle of the river. Out of each stepped a single individual,
and the two met in a small wooden apartment on the raft, while cannon thundered
from either shore, and the shout of the great armies on either side drowned the roar
of artillery. The two persons were the Emperors Napoleon and Alexander, met to
arrange the destinies of the human race. But how vastly more important the inter-
view of the text ; in the persons employed in it, in the nature of the transaction, in
the result. (T. Collins.) Good stronger than evil : — Satan would convert Christ ;
darkness would blot out the light, or throw at least a shadow on its brightness ;
foulness would cast a stain on the white robe of purity ; evil would triumph over
good. But no 1 Light is stronger than darkness ; good than evil. The Son looks
up to the Father, and in that Divine strength casts the evil one behind Him, and is
left alone on the field, more than conqueror. (S. Greg.) Sinlessness unfolds into
holiness : — Sinlessness is negative, holiness is positive ; and it was requisite that the
** second Adam," like the first, should encounter the devil before His sinlessness
could unfold into holiness. ( J, C. Jones.) The force of temptation : — Run with
the wind and you hardly know it is blowing. Eun against it, and you are con-
vinced of the existence of a resisting medium, and in direct proportion to the speed
with which you run, wiU be your consciousness of the foree by which you are
opposed. Thus as long as you run with the devil and promptly do his behests, you
may be inchned to deny his existence ; disobey him, and you will be made painfully
aware of his presence, and his endeavours to thwart all your efforts after good. (Jhid.)
With the wild beasts. — Christ with the wild beasts: — Is this only one of those
graphic touches which this vivid writer so often gives us ? Was it a forcible way of
describing a total absence of human sympathy ? No doubt it served this purpose,
but this was not all. When we recognise the correspondence between this and
Adam's temptation, our thoughts fly at once to Paradise, and we remember that he
too was with the wild beasts, and that God had given him dominion over them, and
that during the brief duration of his innocence he must have exercised it unfearing
and unfeared. And we fancy we can see in this short but pregnant sentence a hint
that He who came to inaugurate an era of restoration, and bring back the timps of
man's innocence, was not unmindful of the lower creatures and their subjection to
vanity. It was a promise of what should one day come to pass when broken har-
monies should be restored, and the prediction in Job v. 23, receive its fufilment. It
matters little that we can point to no evidence of its accomplishment as yet, because
with the Lord a thousand years are but as one day, and one day as a thousand
years. There is no question that the hope was created, and that it laid hold upon
the mind of the early Christians, in support of which we have the testimony of tha
CHAP. I.] ST. MARK.
Catacombs, where our Lord is so frequently represented in the character of Orpheus
attracting wild animals of divers kinds by the sound of his lyre. The same was
perpetuated by later legends, which made the surpassing goodness of St. Francia
thri>w a spell of mysterious influence, not only over his fellow-creatures, but over
birds of the air and beasts of the field. {U, M. Luckock, D.D.) The power of
goodness to tame the animal creation : — Before the fall Adam dwdt with the beasts
on terms of closest friendship ; but on the entrance of evil man grew cruel and
beasts grew fiercer. But when Christ appeared, free from the taint of sin, the old
relationship revived. The disturbed harmony of Eden was restored in the wilder-
ness. Goodness is an unrivalled tamer of the animal creation, and Christ's sojourn
with savage beasts is an infallible pledge of the millenium. (J. C. Jones. ) And
the angels ministered onto Him. — Reasonableness of belief in the existence of
angels : — There are many who deny the existence of any spiritual beings save God
and man. The wide universe is to them a solitary land, without inhabitants. There
is but one filled with living creatures. It is the earth on which we move ; and we,
who have from century to century crawled from birth to death, and fretted out our
little lives upon this speck of star-dust which sparkles amid a million, million othern
upon the mighty plain of infinite space, we are the only living spirits. There Ib
something pitiable in this impertinence. It is a drop of dew in the lonely cup of a
gentian, which imagines itself to be all the water in the universe. It is the summer
midge which has never left its forest pool, dreaming that it and its companions are
the only hving creatures in earth or air. There is no proof of the existence of other
beings than ourselves, but there is also no proof of the contrary. Apart from revela-
tion, we can think about the subject as we please. But it does seem incredible that
we alone should represent in the universe the image of God ; and if in one solitary star
another race of beings dwell, if we concede the existence of a single spirit other than
ourselves, we have allowed the principle. The angelic world of which the Bible
speaks is possible to faith. (Stopford Brooke.) How little we know of the angels : —
Little is said [in the Bible] of angels. They are like the constellations in space ;
there is light enough to reveal, to show that they are ; but more is needed to reveal
all their nature and functions. {Henry Batchelor.) Association of the angels
with Christ : — Their airy and gentle commg may well be compared to the glory of
colours flung by the sun upon the morning clouds, that seem to be bom just where
they appear. Like a beam of light striking through some orifice, they shine upon
Zacharias in the temple. As the morning light finds the flowers, so they found the
mother of Jesus ; and their message fell on her, pure as dewdrops on the lily. To
the shepherds' eyes, they filled the midnight arch like auroral beams of light ; bat
not as silently, for they sang more marvellously than when the morning stars sang
together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy. They communed with the
Saviour in His glory of transfiguration, sustained EQm in the anguish of the
garden, watched Him at the tomb ; and as they thronged the earth at His coming,
so they seem to have hovered in the air in multitudes at the hour of His ascension.
Beautiful as they seem, they are never mere poetical adornments. The occasions of
their appearing are grand, the reasons weighty, and their demeanour suggests and
befits the highest conception of superior beings. Their very coming and going is
not with earthly movement. They are suddenly seen in the air, as one sees white
clouds round out from the blue sky in a summer's day, that melt back even while
one looks upon them. We could not imagine Christ's history without angelic
love. The sun without clouds of silver and gold, the morning on the fields without
dew-diamonds, but not the Saviour without His angels. (H. W. Beecher,)
Spiritual visitants : — I have ever with me invisible friends and enemies. The con-
sideration of mine enemies shall keep me from security, and make me fearful of
doing aught to advantage them. The consideration of my spiritual friends shall
comfort me against the terror of the other ; shall remedy my solitariness ; shall
make me wary of doing aught indecently ; grieving me rather that I have ever
heretofore made them turn away their eyes for shame of that whereof I have not
been ashamed ; that I have no more enjoyed their society ; that I have been no
more affected with their presence. What, though I see them not ? I believe them.
I were no Christian if my faith were not as sure as my sense. {Bp. Hall.)
Ministry of angels : — It would require the tongue of angels themselves to recite all
that we owe to these benign and vigilant guardians. They watch by the cradle of
the newborn babe, and spread their celestial wings round the tottering steps of
infancy. If the path of life be diflScult and thorny, and evil spirits work us shame
and woe, they sustain as ; they bear the voice of our complaining, our supplication:
24 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. I.
onr repentance, np to the foot of God's throne, and bring us back in return %
pitying benediction to stren^ithen and to cheer. When passion and temptation
strive for the mastery, thev encourage us to resist : when we conquer, they crown
us ; when we falter and fail, they compassionate and grieve over us ; when we are
obstinate in polluting our own souls, and perverted not only in act but in will, they
leave us ; and woe to them that are so left ! But the good angel does not quit hia
charge until his protection is despised, rejected, and utterly repddiated. Wonderful
the fervour of their love, wonderful their meekness and patience, who endure from
day to day the spectacle of the unveiled human heart with all its miserable weak-
nesses and vanities, its inordinate desires and selfish purposes I Constant to us in
death, they contend against the powers of darkness for the emancipated spirit.
{Mr», Jameson.)
Ver. 14. Now after that Jolin was put In prison Hindrances no injury :—■
But John had been doing a good work, doing an important work, doing the very
work that God had planned for him to do. Why did the Lord let him be put in
prison? Just such interruptions as that to the best men's work, and just sucb
trials as this to the best of men, are in the Lord's plan of the progress of his work,
and of the training of His people. When old Father Mills, of Torringford, Con-
necticut, heard that his son, Samuel J. Mills, " the father of foreign missions in
America," had died at sea while his work was at its brilliant starting, the quaint
old Yankee preacher said wcnderingly : " Well, I declare 1 The fat's all in the fire
again." And it did look that way, didn't it? We can't understand all this; but
we can see its commonness. John the Baptist was a child of promise and a child
of prophecy. Jesus says of him : " Among them that are bom of women there hath
not arisen a greater than John the Baptist." Yet just as he was fairly inaugurating
the Messiah's dispensation, and his work seemed more important than almost any
one's else on earth, ♦• John was put in prison." Until you can see just why IJdat
thing was permitted, don't worry yourself over some of your little hindrances, or
those of your neighbours, asking — as if half in doubt whether or not there is »
God, or whether He cares for the interests of His cause and its best friends —
" What did the Lord let this happen for ? " {Sunday School Times.) The silencing of
ChrisV$ ministers not the suppressing of Christ^s gospel : — Out of the ashes of a Faith-
ful God raises up a Hopeful ; for the immortal dreamer says : " Now I saw in my dream
that Christian went not forth alone ; for there was one whose name was Hopeful
who joined himself unto him," Though the enemy bum a John Huss God is able
to raise up a Martin Luther to take his place : and the martyrdom of Ridley and
Latimer does but " light a candle in England which shall never be put out." The
easting of the Baptist into prison signalized the commencement of that ministry
which unhinged the gates of hell. {Anonym,ou^.) Impediment changed into new
impetus : — I. We see a boyal ambassadob silenced. II. We see a worthier envoy
■UBSTITXJTED. HI. Wb SEE THE DEATHLESS ENERGY OF TRUTH. No poWCr kuOWU OD
earth can stop her silvery tongue. (D. Daviesy M.A.) Christ's preaching : —
John's position had been one of honour. We now contemplate him as the occupant
of a dungeon. I. The history or John's connection with Herod is very
INSTRUCTTVE. It shows — 1. The feeling of the world in certain cases towards the
truth of its teachers — they "hear it gladly." 2. The experience of the faithful
reprovers of human sin — a prison. 3. A leading feature of that kingdom which
John introduced. 4. This was fitted to undeceive the Jews. Are you satisfied
with the gospel economy 7 II. Mo sooner was John cast into prison than Jesus
Himselv began to preach the gospel. 1. When a servant of God has finished
his work, he must be satisfied to retire. We think ezperience, &g. , lost ; but no.
2. The world will never succeed in suppressing the truth. Let us not be oppressed
with anxiety ! III. The Evangelist records the substance as well as the fact of
Christ's preaching. IV. As soon as Christ began to preach the gospel He galled
His disciples. 1. On the fact of His calling His disciples we may remark : (1) He
made provision for the perpetuity of His kingdom ; (2) He brought those who were
to be main pillars in the Church under His own training — spiritually; (3) He
placed the apostles in circumstances which qualified them to be witnesses to facts.
2. On the manner of His calling His disciples, we may remark : (1) He honoured
diligence in humble employment ; (2) He chose seemingly weak instruments ; (3)
He taught that we must leave aU in order to follow Him ; (4) He furnished an
example of effectual calling. Have you "left all"? (Expository Discourses.)
Jesus came into Qalilee : — The season was the spring, with its bright heaven, it«
OHAP. I.] ST. MARK. 25
freflh sweet earth, its gladsome, soft, yet strengthening air, its limpid living water.
And within as without all was springtime, the season of million-fold forces, gladly
and grandly creative, of sunlight now clear and blithesome, and now veiled with
clouds that came only to break in fruitful showers. (Principal A. M, Fairbaim.)
The vicissitudes of a Godly life,:^I. That good men abb often made the su: tect
OF social reproach. "John was put in prison." 1. Because the inner meaning
of their lives is frequently misunderstood. 2. Because the moral beauty of their
character excites the envy of the wicked. 3. Because they are often called to
rebuke the wickedness of those around them. II. That useful men are often
BENDERED INCAPABLE OF WORK THROUGH THE TTBANNT OF OTHERS. 1. The pOWer
of regal authority to hinder the labours of the morally useful is only partial. 2. It
is often capable of wise explanation — (1) It proved that the Baptist was capable of
suffering as well as work; (2) That the history of the Baptist might the more
easily merge into that of our Lord ; (3) To give him rest before entering the
solemnities of eternity. 3. It is deeply responsible. III. That though one
SERVANT OF TRUTH MAY BB REMOVED ANOTHER IS IMMEDIATELY FOUND TO TAKE HIS
PLACE. IV. That thb ministry called forth by the embbqenoy is often
BETTER than thb ONE BBMOVED. {Joseph S. ExeU, M.A.) Preaching^ the
g^ospel of the kingdom of God. — The scope of our Lord's ministry : — I. The
KINGDOM herb SPOKEN OF. 1. It was the kingdom of God. 2. It was at that time
to be established. II. What must we do to become subjects of this kingdom ?
1. Repent of sin. 2. Beheve the gospel. Application : (1) Inquiry ; (2) Humili-
ation; (3) Thankfulness. (0. Simeon, M.A.) The kingdom of Ood: — This term
is used m various senses in the New Testament. 1. The presence of Christ upon
earth. 2, The second coming of Christ. 3. His influence upon the heart. 4,
Christianity as a Church. 6. Christianity as a faith. 6. The life eternal. It
points out sin to be turned from in sorrow : Christ to be believed in with joy.
{T. M. Lindsay, D.D.) The kingdom of God : God reigning in men's hearts : —
There is great meaning in the words that Jesus was continually using to describe
the work that He did for men's souls. He brought them into " the kingdom of
God.*' The whole burden of His preaching was to establish the kingdom of God.
The purpose of the new birth for which He laboured was to make men subjects of
the kingdom of God. Is it not clear what it means ? The kingdom of God for any
soul is that condition, anywhere in the universe, where God is that soul's king,
where it seeks and obeys the highest, where it loves truth and duty more than
comfort and luxury. Have you entered into the kingdom of God ? Oh, how much
that means 1 Has any love of God taken possession of you, so that you want to do
His will above all things, and try to do it all the time ? Has Christ brought you
there ? If He has, how great and new and glorious the life of the kingdom seems.
No wonder that He said you must be bom again before you could enter there. How
poor life seems outside that kingdom. How beautiful and glorious inside its gates !
If I tried to tell you how Christ brings us there, I should lepeat to you once more
the old, familiar story. He comes and lives and dies for us. He touches us with
gratitude. He sets before our softened lives His life. He makes us see the beauty
of holiness, and the strength of the spiritual life in B[im. He transfers His life to
us through the open channel of faith, and so we come to live as He lives, by every
word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God. How old the story is, but how
endlessly fresh and true to Him whose own career it describes. {Phillips Brooks,
D.D.) The kingdom of God an inward state : — Many people seem to suppose this
means some realm after death, where those who have done nothing but mortify
themselves here shall do nothing but enjoy themselves hereafter. But what Christ
meant by the kingdom of heaven was a life begun here, passing through the grave
and gate of death without any breach of spiritual continuity. Unchanged in
essence was the life of His kingdom — changeable only in outward accidents. Its
essence depended always not on where, but on what you were. The kingdom of
heaven was always a state within, not a place, though it worked itself out here
below in a visible Church. (H. R. Haweis, M.A.) The Galilean ministry ;—
I. When. After John's imprisonment. One witness of the truth silenced ; but
another raised up. After Moses, Joshua; after Stephen, Paul. II. Where.
Galilee. Where eould He find work so readily as amidst the ceaseless toil and
turmoil of these teeming villages? III. What. 1. Gospel of kingdom of God.
Spiritual (1 Cor. xv. 50) ; righteous (Rom. xiv. 17) ; near (Luke xxi. 31) ; inward
(Luke xvii. 20, 21). 2. Repentance and faith : thus completing the work of John.
{H. Thome.) Christ the Evangelical minister:—!. Thb prkaohbb—" Jesus."
26 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. i.
But Jesns differed from all other preachers. 1. He was Divine. 2. He was
infallible. 3. He was sympathetic. 4. He was most clear and simple. '• Common
people heard him gladly," &c. 6. He was most interesting. 6. Most faithful and
earnest. 7, He preached most affectionately and tenderly. One of His very last
appeals — ** 0 Jerusalem," <fcc. He wept over it, &c. H. His theme. The gospel.
1. He was the subject of His own ministry. 2. He also proclaimed the kingdom of
God. 3. The near approach of this kingdom. 4. The sphere of His ministry at
this time was GalUee. Now the world is the field of the gospel — " Go ye into all
the world," &c. HI. The special appeal He made. 1. He urged repentano*.
2. He demanded faith. The gospel news must be heard and received as true.
Learn : 1. We have the same Saviour. 2. The same gospel — now complete by His
resurrection and gift of the Holy Spirit. 3. Its blessings are ours on the same
terms. 4. Men perish by not believing the gospel of Christ. (J. Burns, D,D.)
Yer. 15. And saying, The time Is folfllled. — Repentance and faith : — I. Thb
XMFOKT or the exhortation. 1. By the repentance to which we are exhorted we
are not to understand merely an external reformation. To the Pharisees such an
exhortation would have been inappropriate and useless. Their outward conduct
was exemplary. Nor can we suppose that the repentance to which we are ex-
horted is a mere sense of sorrow and regret on account of the afflictive and penal
consequences to which our transgressions may expose us, either in the present life
or in that which is to come. True repentance is ** towards God " — " for the
remission of sins " — '* unto salvation." Putting all these explanatory terms together,
we are led to the conclusion that repentance consists in a sorrowful conviction of
our having grieved and provoked God, and in an earnest desire and endeavour to be
reconciled to Him, and to secure by the remission of our sins the salvation of our
souls. These convictions and desires must be substantially the same in character
in all true penitents, but are not in all cases equal in degree. Sometimes the
heart is rather melted than broken. 2. But by the faith to which we are exhorted
we are not to understand merely a general belief in God as the Almighty Creator,
and the gracious Governor of aU things. It is not merely a faith in the Divine
mission and authority of Christ, and in the truth of that system of doctrine which
He taught. The exhortation is *' Believe the gospel "—that which is peculiar to
the gospel. Those whom our Lord addressed believed in God as the Creator, in the
truth of the Old Testament Scriptures ; making it a boast that they were " Moses's
disciples." It must therefore have been something more particularly pertaining to
the gosi ol which they were now exhorted to believe, namely, the doctrine of salva-
tion by Him as their Eedeemer — the testimony that " God was in Christ reconciling
the world unto Himself," &o. We must do more than yield assent with the under-
standing to this great doctrine ; as it is with a " broken and contrite heart " that
man repents, so " with the heart man believeth unto righteousness." It is, in other
words, to feel what we believe, or to exercise a sure trust and confidence in that
which we acknowledge to be true. 3. We have already noticed the close and
intimate sequence with which the exhortation to faith in the gospel follows the
exhortation to repentance ; and we may now further remark upon that head, that
the one is thus inculcated in connection with the other — 1. Because for all true
penitents there is a gospel, or a message of good news. Had it been otherwise
repentance would have been a dreadful thing. Are you guilty ? Here is *♦ a
fountain opened for sin." In a word, are you entirely lost ? Here is a Saviour
** able to save even to the uttermost," &c. 2. This faith is inculcated in connection
with repentance, because it is in the act of cordially believing what the gospel says,
that we receive the blessings which the gospel offers. II. The arguments ob
MOTIVES BY which THE EXHORTATION IS SUPPORTED. 1. The oxhortatiou to repen-
tance may be regarded as being urged by the assurance that ** the time is fulfilled."
To all who have not repented " the time is fulfilled " — the time, place, and subject
we are considering are all favourable. May it not be said of you that " the time "
of your own solemn promise and engagement ♦' is fulfilled." " The time " of God'a
special influence and grace is " now fulfilled." In the case of some of yon it may
probably be said, " the time is fulfilled," as you are very near the period when time
is to be exchanged for eternity. " Your days are fulfilled, for your end is come."
2, Upon the supposition that you are already penitent, you are encouraged to faith
in the gospel by the assurance that " the kingdom of God is at hand." This king-
dom is at hand as all things needful for its establishment have been abundantly
provided- Indeed, if truly penitent, you are already in a state of preparation foi
CHAP. I.] ST. MARK. 27
being made by faith the subjects of His "kingdom." If you are truly penitent,
•' the kingdom of God is at hand," for God is this moment waiting to set up that
kingdom in your hearts. Let repentance and faith ever be connected. There are
persons who, in a certain sense, " believe the gospel " without having ever truly
repented ; they have a speculative faith in the gospel. On the other hand are
persons resting in repentance, and on the mere ground of their repentance are
looking to be admitted into heaven. Let one foUow the other in the order in which
Christ has placed them. {J. Crowther.) Remark — I. The insufficiency of bbpen-
TANCB BY ITSELF TO PROCURE THE FOROIVENESS OF SIN. 11. ThB SUITABLENESS OF FAITH
TO THE BEINO ASSOCIATED WITH REPENTANCE AS A CONDITION. III. ThB THOROUGH
HARMONY OF BOTH CONDITIONS WITH THE BLESSED FACT THAT ETERNAL LIFE IS THB
FREE GIFT OF GoD THROUGH OUR LoRD Jesus Christ. {H. MelvUl, B,D.) Repen-
tance : — Many persons who appear to repent are like sailors who throw their goods
overboard in a storm, and wish for them again in a calm. (Mead.) A saint's
tears are better than a sinner's triumphs. (Seeker.) The tears of penitents are
the wine of angels. {Bernard.^ Repentance begins in the humiliation of the
heart, and ends in the reformation of the life. (Mason.) There is no going to
the fair haven of glory without sailing through the narrow strait of repentance.
{Dyer.) Preaching repentance: — In 1680, Mr. Philip Henry preached on the
doctrine of faith and repentance from several texts of scripture. He used to say
that he had been told concerning the famous Mr. Dod, that some called him m
scorn " Faith and Repentance," because he insisted so much upon these two in all
his preaching. " But," says he, •♦ if this be to be vUe, I will be yet more vile, for
faith and repentance are all in all in Christianity.*' Concerning repentance he has
sometimes said, *♦ If I were to die in the pulpit, I would desire to die preaching
repentance, as if I were to die out of the pulpit I would desire to die practising
repentance." Repentance a reversal of conduct: — A locomotive is rushing at
express speed along the main line of a railway, when suddenly, by a pointsman's
mistake, it is switched off into a side-line. Instantly the brakes are applied, and
the moving mass is brought to a standstill. Then the engineer lays his hand upon
a lever, the motion of the engine is reversed, and the train moves back to the main
line, and continues on its course. In human life, such an abandoning of the main
line is transgression ; such a reversal is repentance. The kingdom of God is like
a walled city with a single gate, to which outsiders can only approach by one path.
That gate is faith ; that path is repentance. An old tower in one of the southern
counties of Scotland goes by the name of The Tower of Repentance. A herd-boy
was one day lying in a field near it, reading his New Testament, when an irreligious
gentleman of the neighbourhood stopped and asked him what book he was reading.
On being informed, he said with a sneer, " Perhaps, then, you can tell me the way
to heaven?" "Oh, yes," replied the boy, "you must go up through that tower."
This quaint way of expressing the truth, sent the inquirer oflf in a more thoughtful
mood than when he came. If a man is running from the kingdom of God, it is
obvious that he must just turn roimd and run for it, if he wishes to reach it. Just as
soon as it is possible for a man to reach the top of a hill by running down- hill, will
it be possible for the sinner to enter God's kingdom without repentance. {Sunday
School Times.) Repentance and faith : — From these words we learn what it is to
preach the gospel. I. We are to prove that Jesus of Nazareth is He that should
come — He of whom all the prophets did write — the very Christ, the Saviour of the
world. " The time is fulfilled and the kingdom of God is at hand." II. We are to
teach men how to receive, and how to act, under these good tidings — " Repent ye,"
&e. 1. Repentance: Its importance and necessity. Its nature. 2. Our Lord
preached not only repentance, but also faith. So the apostles. In every saved
soul these two must and do meet together. Not that God deals alike with every
saved souL " Believe the gospel," — come to Jesus, that you may have a free
pardon, &o. (R. Dixon, D.D.) Repentance not immediatclij followed by faith: —
I have known instances where for years there have been right \'iew8 of the evil of sin,
and of the nature of holinees, and a desire after holiness— and what is this but
reptmtanoe? imperfect it may be, but still repentance at least in its beginnings:
imperfect, it went not far enough, inasmuch as it was without faith. I knew a man.
a pubho character, who wrote to me, iu youth, many an instructive letter, a man of
no common intellect, who, when only a boy, on reading Martin Luther's book on
the Epistle to the Galatians, absolutely rolled in agony on the floor, under a seuRe
of sin and the wrath of God ; and though his home influence and his occupation in
after life were opposed to his spiritual progress, he never lost his reverence for the
S8 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap, i
Bible and his desire to be religioas. It is a fact that it was his habit to read the
Bible with a commentary of a night, after he had left his occupation, which was
eminently worldly ; and he used to say, " it was his greatest comfort in life." I
have, as a boy, Ustened to his reverential reading of the Bible and that commentary
to his family. But the error of seeking salvation by the works of the law prevented
his enjoyment of peace, or sense of pardon. It was not till the later years of his
life, when the providence of God had removed him from his ensnaring and worldly
occupation, that he attained to what the Scripture calls faith — salvation by grace
through the faith of Christ — a simple, childlike trust in Christ, as made sin for
him, that he might be made the righteousness of God in Christ. For several years
of his later time, Archbishop Leighton's works, especially his commentary on St.
Peter's first epistle, one of the noblest works which ever came from uninspired man,
V as his daily companion, from which he seemed never weary of making large ex-
t] a ; ts : and he owned that he now apprehended faith as he had never done before.
LiJie many others, in his zeal for good works he had thought that such sweeping
statements about faith alone being needful for salvation were contrary to good works.
Whereas he Uved to see and know and feel that faith in Christ works by love, and
is the fruitful source of all good and holy works. He found that the Twelfth
Article of our Church is the truth of God. " Albeit that good works, which are the
fruits of faith, andfollowafter justification, cannot put away our sins, and endure the
severity of God's judgment ; yet are they pleasing to God in Christ, and do spring out
neeesaarily of a true and lively faith ; insomuch that by them a lively faith may be
as evidently known as a tree discerned by the fruit." I have no doubt that in the
case of my departed friend, as in many others, the Holy Spirit was slowly bringing
about His purpose of mercy, through the workings of repentance ; and when
he had been brought to see that there was no good in him, and that all his
strivings after holiness were altogether vain, then came the gift of faith, and he
beUeved to the saving of his soul. As another example of the long separation
between faith and repentance, in some souls, I cannot withhold from you the case
of one of our greatest literary characters, Dr. Samuel Johnson. His writings
have been my companion from my youth up ; I early conceived a great admiration
of him, not only for his large intellectual powers, but because he stood forth in an
immoral age as a friend of revealed religion, and and an earnest teacher of morals.
I am fully aware of the defects of his character, — they were many and great ; but
these imperfections were balanced by some great and noble qualities, accompanied
by an intellect of the highest order, which to use his own words, at the close of his
Rambler, he vigorously employed, " to give ardour to virtue and confidence to truth."
Let me briefly sketch his soul's religious history. As a young man at Oxford he
took up Law's Serious Call to the Unconverted, expecting to find it a dull book, and
perhaps to laugh at it. But he found Law an overmatch for him, •• This," he says,
** was the first occasion of my thinking in earnest about religion, after I became
capable of rational inquiry." Nor did he conceal his convictions. He attended
ehurch with much regularity ; he was indignant when, for political reasons, there
was some hesitatioa about giving the Highlanders of Scotland the Scriptures in
Gaelic ; he would allow no profane swearing in his presence, and he sternly rebuked
any one who ventured to utter in his presence impure or profane language. ^ To a
young clergyman he gave this admirable advice, that " all means must be tried by
which souls may be saved" ; and in one of his writings he declares, that, compared
with the conversion of sinners, propriety and elegance in preaching are less than
nothing. Tet, with all this honest earnestness, his religion gave him no peace.
His views of the gospel were very defective, and partook very largely of that legal
spirit so natural to man. He rested, as he himself says, his hope of salvation on
his own obedience by which to obtain the application of the Saviour's mediation to
himself, and then to repentance to make up for the defects of obedience. "I
cannot be sure," he said, " that I have fulfilled the conditions in which salvation
is granted ; I am afraid I may be one of those who should be condemned." He
never could be sure that he had done enough. And yet no one can read his medita-
tions and prayers and not be convinced that he had a deep sense of sin and an
earnest desire for holiness, accompanied with great self-abasement before God : but
aU in vain ; there was no peace ; there was repentance, but no faith. He had yet
to learn that " being justified by faith, we have peace with God." And he was
taught this blessed truth by the Holy Spirit in his last illness. All his life long he
had looked upon death with the greatest terror ; but though late, relief was granted
to him. At evening time it was light. It appears that a clergyman was the main
CHAP. 1.] ST. MARK, as
instrument in bringing his mind to a quiet trust. In answer to the anxious ques.
tion, written to him by the dying moralist, " What shall I do to be saved," the
clergyman wrote, " I say to you, in the language of the Baptist, • Behold the
Lamb of God which taketh away the sins of the world.' " That passage had been
often read by him, and made but a slight impression ; but now pressed home by
the gracious Spirit, it went straight to his heart. He interrupted the friend who
was reading the letter. *' Does he say so? Read it again ! " Comfort came and
peace. His biographer tells us, *' for some time before his death all his fears were
calmed and absorbed by the prevalence of his faith and his trust in the merits
and propitiation of Jesus Christ." Now all those years of darkness, fear, and dis-
quiet, would have been saved had he known and received the free grace of God in
Christ — ^in other words, if he had not only repented, but also believed the gospel
{Ibid.) The call to repentance and faith : — I. A motive to genuine repentance, and
cordial faith in the gospel, may be drawn from the consideration of that appalhng
misery which awaits the impenitent and unbelieving. II. A motive may be
gathered from the riches of God's goodness, especially as dispensed through the
merits and intercession of Christ. III. A motive may be gathered from the
promise of the Holy Spirit, and from the countless instances which prove that
promise to have been actually fulfilled down to this day. {J. Thornton.) Christ
preaching repentance: — I. Christ preached the natubb of repentance. II. Christ
preached the mecessitt of repentance. 1. The universal necessity may be shown
from the character of God, as the Buler of the world. 2. It may be shown
from the state of man. 3. From the fact that an impenitent sinner is unfit for
heaven. III. Christ preached the dutt of repentance. He pressed it home upon
every man's conscience. He enforced it by rewards and punishments (Matt.
xi. 20, 22 ; xii. 41). He encouraged men to it. (J. Carter.) Gist of th$
Saviour's teaching : — The whole gospel is practically reduced to repentance.
Christ joins it to the hope of heaven, as being the only means of arriving there.
Here are four points in His teaching. 1. That His Father does everything accord-
ing to the order of His adorable designs, in the time prefixed in His eternal pre-
destination, and in the manner described in the Scriptures, prefigured in the shadows
of the law, foretold by the prophets, and included in the promises, the time where-
of is now fulfilled at His coming. 2. That sin has reigned under the law, bat
that God is to reign under grace and by it, and that the time of this kingdom of
grace and mercy is at hand. 3. That the kingdom of God, and His reign by grace,
begins with repentance for pt^t sins. 4. That it is estabhshed by submission to
the yoke of faith, and of the precepts of the gospel, and by the hope and love of
eternal enjoyments which it reveals and promises. {Quesnel.) Nature and
evidence of repentance: — I. Repentance is a change of mind concerning (1) God;
(2) the law; (3) sin; (4) self; (5) Christ; (6) hohness. II. Repentance is mani-
fested by its effects : (1) Contrition ; (2) confession ; (3) self-abhorrence ; (4) self-
abandonment. (W. W. Whythe.) Tokens of repentance: — The signs of true
repentance are— (1) Carefulness not to fall into oar former sins again ; {2\ holy
indignation against ourselves for oar sins past ; ^3) a greater hatred of all sin,
than we ever had a love for it; (4) constant striving against secret sins; (5)
thorough obedience rendered cheerfully to all God's conunands. {O. Fetter.)
Jesus in Oalilee : — I. The pbeachino of Jesus was spiRiruAii. His theme was the
"kingdom of God.*' Galilee was full of rabbis who taught for doctrines the com-
mandments of men. Jesus held the minds of men to spiritual themes. His coming
was the setting up on earth of the kingdom of God. The countrymen of Jesus
looked for that kingdom as one of worldly magnificence. Nothing could deter Him
from unfolding its spiritual nature. II. Jesus preached with authority. He
commanded men to repent (verse 16.) He same to be King as well as Saviour. III.
Jesus required not only acceptance of Hjs doctrines but of Himself also —
*• Gome ye after Me." IV Jesus proffers laroe reward to His followers — '*I
will make you fishers of men." V. Jesus' words and acts were a revelation of
His Divine poweb. Rebuking the evil spirit. He bade him " hold his peace and
come out of him." That word was irresistible. Lessons : 1. The way to spread the
gospel is to tell what Jesus does. 2. If one agency fails to bring men to Christ, let
others be employed. 3. Opportunities for greatest duties are found in the discharge
of ordinary ones. Jesus was in the synagogue on the Sabbath, and while there
occasion was afforded for healing a demoniac. 4. A broad estimate should be
had of the kingdom of Christ. How vast was Christ's view of the kingdom He came to
set ap. Beings of both worlds were interested in it. {Sermons by Monday Club.)
80 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. i.
Jesus in Galilee : — I. The enteance to the kingdom. For a sinful man the only way
into a kingdom of righteousness, is through repentance and renewal. II. The
MIN19TBY of the kingdom. Discipleship means ministry. III. The demonstratio
of the kingdom. The gospel of the kingdom is good news for the whole man ;
mind, heart, will, soul and body. At last the gospel of the heavenly kingdom, in
its full realization, shall be only a renewal of the gospel of the kingdom that was
epoken in Galilee. " And there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying."
(Rid.) Repent and believe. — Adams likens Faith to a great queen in her progress,
having repentance as her messenger going before her, and works as the attendants
following in her train. {J. O. Pilkington.) The look of repentance backward and
forward :— Like Janus Bifrons, the Roman god looking two ways, a true repentance
not only bemoans the past but takes heed to the future. Repentance, Uke the lights
of a ship at her bow and her stern, not only looks to the track she has made, but to
the path before her. A godly sorrow moves the Christian to weep over the failure
of the past, but his eyes are not so blurred with tears but that he can look watchfully
into the future, and, profiting by the experience of former failures, make straight
paths for his feet. {Ibid.) Repentance lifelong : — •* Sir," said a young man to
Philip Henry, •• how long should a man go on repenting? How long, Mr.
Henry, do you mean to go on repenting yourself?" " Sir," was the reply, •♦ I hope
to carry my repentance to the very gates of heaven. Every day I find I am a sinner,
and every day I need to repent. I mean to carry my repentance, by God's help, up
to the very gates of heaven.'* May this be your divinity and mine 1 May repen-
tance towards God, and faith towards our Lord Jesus Christ, be Jachin and Boaz —
the two great pillars before the temple of our religion, the comer-stones in our
system of Christianity. {Bishop Ryle.) Repentance and faith inseparable : —
Here is the sum and substanceof Christ's whole teaching — the Alpha and Omega of His
entire ministry ; and coming from the lips of such an one and at such a time (just
after His baptism), we should give the most earnest heed to it. I. The gospel which
Christ preached was, very plainly, ▲ command. He didn't condescend to reason
about it. Why is thds ? 1. To ensure its being attended to. Many would never
venture to believe at all if it were not made penal to refuse to do so. 2. That men
may be without excuse if they neglect it. II. This command is twofold. It explains
itself : repent and believe. 1. Repentance. Abhorrence of one's past life, because
of the love of Christ which has pardoned it. Avoidance of present sin, because not
one's own, but bought with a price. Resolution to live henceforth like Jesus. This
is the only repentance we have to preach and to practise : not law and terrors, not
despair, not driving men to self-murder — this is the sorrow of the world, which
worketh death : go<2y sorrow is a sorrow unto salvation through Christ. 2. Faith.
That is, trust in Christ. This goes hand-in-hand with repentance. Neither will be
of any use without the other. Trust Christ to save you, and lament that you need
to be saved, and monm because this need of yours has put the Saviour to open
shame, frightful sufferings, and a terrible death. IH. This command is a most
REASONABLE ONE. God Only asks of ycu that which your heart, if it were in a right
state, would rejoice to give. You can't expect to be saved while you are in your
sins, any more than you can expect to have a healthy body while there is poison in
your veins. And then, as to faith, God surely has a right to demand of the creature
He has made, that he shall believe what He tells him; IV. This is a command
which DEMANDS IMMEDIATE OBEDIENCE. The danger is real ; the necessity is urgent.
To-day is the time God graciously gives you ; to-morrow He may claim as His own.
{C. H. Spurgeon.) Low in repentance, high in faith :— An old saint, on his
sick-bed, once used this remarkable expression : " Lord, sink me low as hell in re-
pentance, but" — and here is the beauty of it — "lift me high as heaven in faith.**
The repentance that sinks a man low as hell is of no use except there is the faith
also that lifts him as high as heaven, and the two are perfectly consistent the one
with the other. Oh, how blessed it is to know where these two lines meet — the
stripping of repentance, and the clothing of faith I {Ibid.) Repentance dear
to the Christian : — Rowland Hill, when he was near death, said he had one
regret, and that was that a dear friend who bad lived with him for sixty years,
would have to leave him at the gate of heaven. " That dear friend," said he, " is
repentance ; repentance has been with me all my life, and I think I shall drop a
tear as I go through the gates, to think that I can repent no more." Repentance
hears sweet fruit : — The sweetness of the apple makes up for the bitterness of the
root, the hope of gain makes pleasant the perils of the pea, the expectation of health
mitigates the naiiseousneas of medicine. He who desires the kernel, breaks the nut;
CHAP. I.] ST. MARK. 31
so be who desires the joy of a holy conscience, swallows down the bitterness ol
penance. [Scholiast in J erovie .) Repentance and faith twin duties : — Faith and
repentance keep up a Christian's life, as the natural heat and radical moisture do
the natural life. Faith is like the innate heat ; repentance like the natural moisture.
And, as the philosopher saith, if the innate heat devour too much the radical
moisture, or, on the contrary, there breed presently diseases; so, if believing make
a man repent less, or repenting make a man believe less, this turneth to a distemper.
Lord, cast me down (said a holy man upon his death-bed) as low as hell in repent-
ance; and lift me up by faith into the highest heavens, in confidence of Thy
salvation. (John Trapp.) Repentance a daily duty : — He that repents every day
for the sins of every day, when he comes to die will have the sins of only one day
to repent of. Short reckonings make long friends. [M. ILnry.) The time ful-
filled : — The same thought as St. Paul's " fulness of time." (Gal. iv. 4 ; Eph. i. 10).
The kingdom of god and of heaven. These two formulae are used with a slight
difference of meaning. 1. "The kingdom op heaven" stands opposed to the
KINGDOMS OF EARTH : the great world-empires that lived and ruled by the strength
of their armies and that were, in means and ends, in principles and practices, bad.
These had grown out of the cruel ambitions, jealousies, and hatreds of men and
States ; had created war, bloodshed, famine, pestilence, the oppression which
crushed the weak, and the tyranny which exalted the strong. But the kingdom from
above was the descent of a spiritual power, calm and ubiquitous as the sun-
to light : plastic, penetrative, pervasive, silently changing from ill to good, from chaos
order, both man and the world. 2. " The kingdom of ood " has its opposite in the
KINGDOM of eviij OR SATAN, the great empire of darkness and anarchy, creative of
misery and death to man. It belonged to God, came from Him, existed to promote
His ends, to vanquish sin, and to restore on earth an obedience that would make it
happy and harmonious as heaven. {Principal A. M. Fairbaim.)
Vers. 16-18. — Now as He walked by the Sea of GalUee. — The call of the first
apostles : — The call of these men is a strange thing. It is strange that He begins
with winning disciples, not working miracles. And it is more strange still that in
our poor human nature He should find any fitness to aid Him in His work. You
would have thought only heaven could have given the Saviour fellow-workers that
would be a comfort and a help to Him. But man can be a worker together with
God. Several things are noteworthy in connection with this group of apostles. I.
They are not theologians. We do not need high education to fit us to do good.
II. But they had benefited by an excellent training. They came from pious
homes ; they had good schooling and good knowledge of the Bible ; also the ex-
cellent training that lies in learning a trade reqoiring diligence and endurance.
What special further fitness they needed for their work would come from inter-
course with Christ. III. They were found in groups. Ties of friendship may
assist both consecration and power. IV. They are enlisted gradually. In no
religious matters should we act with haste. Be •• like the stars, hasting not, lingering
not." Life is not long enough to let us postpone the discharge of duty a single
day after its discovery ; bat it is quite long enough to give us time to reach calmly
every conclusion on which we have to act. {R. Glover.) JesuSy as Head of the
kingdom, calling His helpers : — Note — I. The peremptoriness of the call — " Come
ye after Me." II. The inducement to obey — "I will make you," &c. III. The
promptness of their obedience — *' And straightway," &o. IV. The order in which
they were called — " Simon Peter " first. V. The kind of men called. Not idlers.
(D. C. Hughes, M.A,) Busy men: — God calls men when they are busy ; Satan,
when they are idle. For idleness is the hour of temptation, and an idle person
the devil's tennis-ball, which he tosses at pleasure, and sets to work as he likes
and lists. {John Trapp.) Why should the Lord choose His foremost apostle»from
among fishermen 1 1. Their calling had inured them to hardship and danger— the
lake on which they exercised their craft being exposed to sudden and violent storms.
2. Their calling, demanding a constant exercise of patience and watchfulness, and
being very precarious besides, had made them familiar with disappointment, so
that they would not be discouraged by it. Thus their worldly calling would be
the best discipline for their spiritual work. They must be prepared to endure
hardness, for tiiey had no settled incomes ; they must be ready to face death, for
at any moment a storm of bloody persecution might arise ; they must be patient,
both towards churches and souls ; and they must be content at times with taking
a few converts in their nets, where they might have expected abundant draughts.
•1 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap, l
(if, F, Sadler, M.A.) The Lord chose — I. Unlearned and ignorant men, that Hia
grace might be made perfect in their weakness. That the then known world
should have been, in two or three centuries, subdued to the faith by such men, and
by such as succeeded them, was, next to the resurrection of Christ, the greatest
miracle of Christianity ; II. Religious men. They had *' justified God " by-
attaching themselves to the ministry of the Baptist. But they were neither (1)
prejudiced Pharisees, who would have had a world of traditional interpretation to
unlearn ; nor (2) superstitious men, or they would have shown themselves far
readier to look for supernatural action from their Master. (Ibid.) The call to
service: — I. Honest tou. is a peeparation for nobler work. II. Following Christ
CONSECRATES BVERY VOCATION. Earthly pursuits are the pattern of the hea\enly.
lU. SeCULAB PARTNERSHIPS ABE TRANSLATED TO A HIGHER SPHERE. IV. TrUE
OBEDIENOB IS PROMPT AND PRACTICAL. V. ChRIST'S SERVICE ALWAYS INVOLVES
SACRIFICE. (D. DavieSt M.A.) The manner in which Christ attracted men to Himself
by making their secular calling typical of spiritual work. I. That good men should
TAKE EVERY OPPORTUNITY FOR SEEKINO THE MORAL WELFARE OF THOSE WITH WHOM
THEY ABB BROUGHT INTO INCIDENTAL CONTACT. II. That good men in embracing
every opportunity for the moral welfare of others, might with great advantage
APPEAL TO THEM THROUGH THEIB SECULAR GALLING, MAKING IT SYMBOLICAL OF
RELIGIOUS WORK AND TRUTH. ** I will make you to become fishers of men." 1.
This method of appeal is attractive. 2. It may be opportune. 3. It is effective.
{Joseph S. Exellf M.A.) Christ's election of disciples : — I. Whom did Hb
OHOOSB ? Not the wise and learned ; they would have worried the simplicity with
endless commentaries, have wrought it into intellectual puzzles, so that the shep-
herd on the hill could not have understood it. He did not choose the rich ; they
would have weighted His goodness with the cares of wealth. Did He choose re-
ligious leaders P They would dissolve His charity, mercy, in the acid of their
theological hatreds. Did He choose the politicians ? He would not use political
craft. II. "Come," He said, ♦*! will make you fishers of men. And they left all
and followed Him." He was not wrong then in His choice. These men who
gave np all at once for Him, had impulse, heart, impetuosity, love ; and these
were the main things He wanted for His work. It would be a hard task, and no
faint-heartedness or questioning could bear its trials. It was this intensity of
spirit that Christ stirred in men. When He spoke men arose from the dead. The
source of His influence was partly personal ; also it was weighted with infinite.
Divine, ideal thoughts ; He established living truths in the hearts of men. That
was His real power. As life went on His thoughts grew before them. So in-
spired, they went forth into the world. They saw before them a vast ocean, in
whose depths men were lost in ignorance and misery. {^S. A. Brooke^ M.A.)
Christ calling men: — I. This call was imperative. II. It is first given to two
obscure men. III. It is a spoken, not a written, call. IV. They are commanded
to follow a person, not a creed. Y. This call is abrupt. YI. In all revolutionary
movements there have been men who have heard nothing but — ** Follow.*' YH.
Those who are called are not such at first sight as might have been expected ; yet
on examination it will be found that they were the only persons who could have
been called, in harmony with the whole ministry of Jesus Christ. {Dr. Parker.)
Forsaking all to follow Christ: — It is said that the magnet will not draw in the
presence of the diamond : the world cannot hold that soul that is susceptible to
the superior power of Christ. The eye dazzled with the glare of the sun sees
darkness everywhere else. Leather and iron money was, in the early ages, soon
cast aside for gold and silver. How soon we part with lamps and candles when
the Bun rises. {T. Brooks.) Heart responsive to heart : — The call met a deep
craving of the heart, and at once they joined Christ the man, without knowing any-
thing of Christ the doctrine. The heart wanted a heart ; life demanded life. The
world had lived long enough on written promises ; the cold parchment was be-
coming colder day by day. There was an aching at the heart of society — a great
trouble— an exciting wonder. The call had a peculiar charm about it in so far as
it demanded attachment to a visible person. Not a creed but a Life bade them
" follow." {Dr. Parker.) The gospel as a fishing net : — The net to fish for men
is commonly the word truly preached ; the threads are the words of persuasion ;
the knots the arguments of reason ; the plummets are the articles and grounds of
the faith. This net is to be wove with study and pains, to be let down and loosed
by preaching, to be gathered up by calling men to account of what was heard,
what ihejf haTe done upon it ; it is washed and cleansed by our tears and prayers,
CHAP, z.} ST. MARK,
and spread and dried by onr charity and mortified affections. And this is the
net that we must let down, ** though it catoh nothing," and ** at His word it is to
be let down." His word is to be the length and breadth, the whole rule and
measure of all our sermons, all your actions. Leave o£E our work we must not,
because it does not answer us with success ; but do our work again, and see where
we erred, and mark it ; find what was the occasion of onr ill success, onr taking
nought, and avoid it. {Dr. Mark Frank.) The estimate Jems Christ had of
humanity in contrast with all the other objecti that engaged His attention : — The
more you study Christ's life the more yon will see how in comparison with the
claims of man everything else was regarded as subsidiary and comparatively un-
important. For rank, for wealth, for fame, for all the pursuit of which fills men
with fever and the possession of which leaves them in unrest, Christ cared not a
jot. But for man He cared everything. He might be poor, despised, wretched ;
no matter, he was a man 1 And when He viewed him thus as a king, though dis-
crowned, as an heir whose birthright was immortality, as a brother of the sera-
phim, though bowed in the ruin of a crushing overthrow, His whole nature went
out to him in a passionate intensity of tenderness, and in His annunciation that
He had come to seek and save the lost, Christ bat proclaimed His estimate of the
greatness of humanity. The first thing which any one of us must seek to possess
as a qualification for Christian work is the same overmastering sense of the
preciousness of humanity. We shall work for man in proportion as we feel that.
Get this thought, then, written in your heart, fixed in yonr memory as with a
diamond, that to consecrate your energy, to devote your might to do the work of
Christ, as it bears npon the elevation and salvation of man, will do more to
replenish your soul with happiness, and to crown your life with honour, than to
reap a harvest of wealth or fame. To bring a little child as a lamb to the fold of
the Good Shepherd, to raise the fallen out of the mire to the level of a purer life,
and to bring men under the saving infiuences of Christ's gospel, is a work which
angel minds would fain engage in, and one which demands and deserves the
highest devotion we can bring to bear upon it. (W. Kelynack. ) Primary and
subordinate qualijications that are important to be possessed by all those who essay
to do good to others : — And I would remark of all knowledge the most important
that must be possessed by him who seeks to influence others for good is the know,
ledge of man. To know books is much, to be familiar with things is well ; but
large wisdom in these particulars may consist with much ignorance in dealing
with human nature. To know man, to work with success on man, you must know
his susceptibilities as well as his aversions, his merits as well as his failings.
And you must know this in order satisfactorily to deal with the question how best
human nature may be approached, and how most effectually it may be converted
to the OSes you contemplate. To give shape to an iron bar you need a sledge-
hammer stroke of power. To give form to clay, you need but the deft movements
of a vigorous hand. And so, in dealing with human nature ; the knowledge on
which 1 insist, leading out to the employment of the right means, is one of great
moment in the success of our task. It is of no use for any one of us to go
through life with a little code of action like a two -foot rule to be the measure of all
character. We must deal with men according to their individual character. Some
men we must approach through the medium of their hope, and some through the
medium of their fear. Some we must strike, but as the bee strikes the flower
when he draws the honey from its heart ; and others we must shape as the sculptor
shapes the block, which he strikes again and again to disemprison the angel that
lies hidden in the slab. Now in this, and then in that form, Christian workers
will adjust their movements, guided by the knowledge of human nature of which
we are speaking, knowing that if men are sought in the right way, and at the right
time, like fish you may catch them, but that if you neglect these very primary
qualities, you may almost forecast failure where you should expect success. (Ibid.)
The making of men-catchers : — Conversion is most fully displayed when it leads
converts to seek the conversion of others : we most truly follow Christ when we
become fishers of men. The great question is not so much what we are naturally,
as what Jesus makes us by His grace : whoever we may be of ourselves, we can, by
following Jesus, be made useful in His kingdom. Our desire should be to be men-
catchers ; and the way to attain to that sacred art is to be ourselves thoroughly
captured by the great Head of the college of fishermen. When Jesus draws us we
shall draw men. I. Something to bk done by us — "Come ye after Me." 1, We
must be separated to Him, that we may pursue His object. 2. We must abide with
S
84 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. i.
Him, that we may catch His spirit. 3. We must obey Him, that we may learn His
method. 4. We must believe Him, that we may beUeve true doctrine. 5. We
must copy His life, that we may win His blessing from God. H. Something to
BB DONE BY HiM — "I will make you." Our following Jesus secures our education
for Boul -winning. 1. By our following Jesus, He works conviction and conversion
in men : He uses our example as ameans to that end. 2. By our discipleship the
Lord makes us fit to be used. 3. By our personal experience in following Jesus,
He instructs us until we become proficient in soul-winning. 4. By inward monitions
He guides us what, when, and where to speak. 5. By His Spirit He qualifies us to
reach men. 6. By His secret working on men's hearts He speeds us in our work.
III. A nouBB iNSTBUCTiNO US — " Fishcrs of men." A fisher is (1) dependent »nd
trustful ; (2) diligent and persevering ; (3) intelligent and watchful ; (4) laborious
and self-denying; (6) daring, and not afraid to venture upon a dJangerous sea;
(6) successful. He is no fisher who never catches anything. {C. H. Spurgeon.)
The higher discipleship : — Following Christ, if rightly understood, is the destruction
of selfishness. It casts off the idols of worldly prudence and worldly maxims
from the heart, and puts there instead the supreme self-sacrifice of Christ. Well
might these two plain men have said, ♦* What 1 leave all and follow Thee f leave
our nets and boats that we have bought with our few savings ? ruin our worldly
chances, and go forth to we know not what — all for the hope of doing good f Where
is the gain, where is the advantage to ourselves ? " But the man who receives
Christ into his heart cannot reason in that way. Tell him that he is giving up his
worldly chances, that he is injuring his strength, that he is working without hope
of reward on earth ; and he must still reply, •• My aim is not the gratitude of men,
but the favour of God. I am not working for the regard of men, but for the * Well
done • of my Master." To do that which pleasure prompts, to do that which does
not clash with our inclinations — even the world can go as far as that. But the
true disciple is he who leaves his nets and boats at the command of Christ ; the
man who goes out to a foreign land, leaving kindred and home that he may preach
the misearchable riches of Christ ; the Sunday-school teacher who gives up the hour
needed, perchance, for rest, that the ignorant may be taught, and the feet of
children led into the narrow way. Christ calls us to the higher discipleship, becauBe
it is His purpose that we, under God, should bring back the world to His sway. , .
Let us rise above the low level where we can only read the word •' duty," to that
grander height where we can see that all Christian service is a privilege and a joy ;
and though heart and flesh fail sometimes, let us walk as seeing the invisible. The
divinest life that ever the world knew carried its cross every step of the way, and
your life will not be worth much unless you carry your cross too. Nothing great or
good is ever born into the world without travail and pain. (J. H, Shakespeare^
M.A.) The ministerial office : — In fishing, whether in sea or among men, there is
wanted — 1. A net. The gospel. 2. Casting the net. Andrew did this first when he
caught Peter his brother (John i. 41) ; Peter did this most energetically afterwards
with his splendid work of preaching. In doing this, Christ directs where ; other-
wise we may toil all night in vain. 3. Dragging the net to land. Confessional; inquiry-
room, c 4. Mending the nets. Heretics and schismatics unite against it, and ro
break the net. Inside foes are the worst — the dog-fish and sharks of the gospel-
net. Hence a mender is wanted. 5. Counting the fish (John xxi. 11). The elect
and chosen are many and great ; and these do not break the nets. The apoxtles*
change of employment a gain to them: — Did those skilled fishermen gain or lose in
leaving the lake, the boat, and the net, and becoming the Lord's apostles? Was it
to their loss or advantage that they sacrificed the wealth gathered by the net for
the privilege of saving men ? Ask Peter on the day of Pentecost : ask him when
by his lips the gospel is first preached to the Gentiles, and he gathers the first-fruits
of a world-wide harvest. Ask John when, at the close of a long life, on the isle of
Patmos the heavens opened to him, and the scroll of the future is unrolled, and he
with rapt vision is permitted to see the triumphs of the gospel he was called to
preach. Ask them now, their names having gone through the world closely
associated with Christ, pillars of the Church on earth, and for eighteen centuries
sharing with their Lord the glory of the Church above. {P. B. Davis.) The
minister is a fisherman : — As such he must fit himself for his employment. If iome
fish will bite only by day, he must fish by day ; if others will bite only by moon-
light, he must fish for them by moonlight. {R. Cecil.) Bait to catch fish: — Mu
Jesse relates that certain fish give preference to bait that has been perfumed. When
the prinoe of evil goes forth in quest of victims, there does not need mach allure*
€HA». I.] ST, MARK. 83
ment added to the common temptations of life to make them effective. Fishers of
men, however, do well to employ all the skill they can to suit the minds and tastes
of those whom they seek to gain. {G. McMichael.) Rules for fishing: — I
watched an old man trout fishing the other day, pulling them out one after another
briskly. "You manage it cleverly, old friend," I said; "I have passed a good
many below who don't seem to be doing anything." The old man lifted himself up,
and stuck his rod in the ground. •' Well, you see, sir, there be three rules for trout
fishing, and 'tis no good trying if you don't mind them. The first is, keep your-
self out of sight ; and the second, keep yourself further out of sight ; and the third
is, keep yourself further still out of sight. Then you'll do it." '• Good for catching
men, too," thought I. {Mark Guy Pearse.) Catching fish a preparation for
Hatching men : — Every quaUty of mind which these fishermen had cultivated will
serve the higher purpose now. Their vocation had — I. Called out their patience.
II. Made a large demand on their inventiveness. Catching men needs sagacity.
III. Kept in lively exercise their observant watchfulness. They found it needful
to study all the changes of light and shade ; the aspects of sky and sea. To save
souls we must be " all eye." IV. Had inured them to disappointment. (D. Davie$^
M.A.) Grippers : — I have known a congregation so full of kindly Christian
workers that in the low neighbourhood in which they worked they got the nick-name
of ** Grippers.^* Lowe, hearing the name, thought it must be a new sect, but it
only marked the old apostolic quality. All Christians ought to pray for this power
of catching souls. It is not violence, loudness, or terror that gives it, but love,
goodness, tiie clear and strong convictions that oome from following Christ. (R,
Glover.)
Vers. 19, 20. And when He had gone a little fiarther thence, He saw James.—
The call of the sons of Zebedee : — I. Our first question is, What manner op mem
WERE James and John when Jesus summoned them to His service? Is it not
suggested that they were free from gross vices ; open-eyed to truth and righteous-
ness? Converted profligates have rendered eminent service in the kingdom of
God ; yet the best achievements have usually come from men who have not saturated
their natures with vicious indulgences. Secular experience had helped to make
the brothers fit for Christ's call. The stormy wind was fulfiling Christ's word,
and He was coming to His men walking on the waves of the sea. The qualities of
character produced by toil upon the deep were caught up and transfigured in the
fulfilment of apostolic tasks. We are shaped by circumstances which look common-
place for future usefulness. James and John had reason to be thankful for helpful
communion with others. Their parents must have been a worthy couple, and their
companions, Peter and Andrew, were like-minded with themselves. Their thoughts
went beyond boats and nets. Their lives looked upward. To the youthful fishermen
Christ had already revealed Himself. His spell was on their hearts. II. The call
POR WHICH such varied PREPARATIONS HAD BEEN MADE WAS HEARD IN DUE COURSE —
*' He called them," &c. Though we take it as a matter of course that James and
John should make a prompt response, there was the possibility of reluctance and
bargaining. Jonah fied. Prompt be our obedience. The call that was heeded
involved a purifying fellowship. The men who were named " Boanei^es " had dis-
positions which might have made them men of violent deeds had not Christ assumed
the task of refining without weakening the powerful, passionate natures that He
won. To be much with Christ is essential to doing well in His kingdom. III.
The SERVICE for which the CAIiL AND CULTURE PREPARED THE WAY. IV. ThE SACRiriCES
WHICH THE SERVICE REQUIRED. Zcbcdce Rud Salomc had their share. For their sons
they had made plans with which Christ interfered. Their home was to lose some
light. The youths themselves had to endure hardship, but they had love to help
them. {W. J. Henderson^ B.A.) The beneficent influence of a Christ-attracted
life : — Anything but beneficent those lives might have been. Let the seawater which
would madden those who drink it be drawn heavenward, and it will descend as
wholesome refreshment for beast and bird and tree and man ; and so men that would
make the world's life madder become fountains of sweet water after Christ has drawn
them into the sky of oommuuion with Himself. You will remember that, and let
Him uplift you. To be much with Him is essential to doing well in His kingdom.
(Ibid.) A call to discipleship : — 1. This call uttered by Christ was unique in its
character. 2. It was emphatic in its authority. 3. It was important in its desig-
nation. I. The call to discipleship comes to men pre-occupied with the sboulab
DUTIES or LiFB. 1. Christ does not often call idle men to discipleship. 2. If men
8S THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. b.
are active Christ does not despise the meanness of their toil. II. The call to
discipleship comes to sevekal in the same FAiniiY. III. It involves the subordina-
tion of all human relationships. 1. Of trade relationships. 2. Of domestic
relationships. {Joseph S, Exell, M.A,) ChrisV$ insight into character: — In a
rough stone, a cunning lapidary will easily foresee what his cutting, and his
polishing, and his art will bring that stone to. A cunning statuary discerns in a
marble-stone under his feet, where there will arise an eye, and an ear, and a hand,
and other lineaments to make it a perfect statue. Much more did our Saviour Christ,
who was Himself the author of that disposition in them (for no man hath any such
disposition but from God), foresee in these fishermen an inclinableness to become
useful in that great service of His Church. Therefore He took them from their
own ship, but He sent them from His cross; He took them weatherbeaten with
north and south winds, and rough-cast with foam and mud ; but He sent them
back Boupled, and smoothed, and levigated, quickened, and inanimated with that
spirit which He had breathed into them from His own bowels, His own eternal
bowels, from which the Holy Ghost proceeded ; He took fishermen, and He sent
fishers of men. (J. Donne, D.D.) What the Gospel ministry is : — 1. Called men:
Said to Andrew, Peter, &c., " Follow me." 2. Separated men : •• They left all and
followed Him." 3. Commissioned men: "I will make you fishers of men." 4.
Equipped men : with His presence — with His Spirit. (The Christian Advocate.)
Ver. 21. And they went Into Capernaum. — Capernaum : — The Teacher of humility
begins His mission at a town where pride chiefly reigned. Preference is due from
ministers to the greatest need, not to the greatest inclination. A minister should
always begin by instructing, in imitation of God, who leads men, not by a blind
instinct, but by instruction and knowledge, by the external light of His Word, and
the internal light of His grace. {Quesnel.) Capernaum (the field of repentance,
or city of comfort) was a beautiful little town, situated on tne western shore of the
Galilean Lake, a short distance from its head. Though small, it was a very busy
and thriving town ; the leading highway to the sea from Damascus on the east to
Accho or Ptolemais on the Mediterranean on the west, ran through it, thus opening
the markets of the coast to the rich yield of the neighbouring farms, orchards, and
vineyards, and the abundant returns of the fisheries of the lake. The townsfolk,
as a rule, enjoyed the comfort and plenty we see in the houses of Peter and Matthew.
The houses were built of black lava, though most of them were relieved of their
Bombreness by being whitened with lime. The synagogue, however, which was the
principal architectural ornament of the town, and which the centurion built and
presented to the Jews of the place, was of white limestone, the blocks of stone being
large and chiselled, and the cornices, architraves, and friezes of which, as evidenced
by the ruins, were finely carved. The streets of the village radiated from the
synagogue, and stretched up the gentle slope behind it, the main street running
north, to Chorazin, a neighbouring town not far distant. (D. C. Hughes, M.A.)
The synagogue : — The synagogue carries us back for its origin to the land of the
exile. Cut off from the sacrificial worship of the temple, devout Jews gathered
together for prayer and hearing of the law, and little sanctuaries were built for their
meetings ; and after the return from captivity, though the statelier ritual of the
temple was restored, synagogues in towns and villages became an integral part of
the ecclesiastical system. They claim our interest, not only from their association
with our Lord's preaching and miracles, but as well from the fact that it was from
•♦the eighteen prayers" which were read therein daily except on the Sabbath, that
Jesus drew the chief materials for that which the Christian Church has consecrated
for daily use as "the Lord's Prayer." Now, of all the synagogues in Palestine,
perhaps that at Capernaum is fullest of historic reference. Its erection at the sole
expense of a large-hearted Koman soldier had earned for him the affection of the
inhabitants, for when his servant was sick they pleaded with Jesus on the grounds
that the petitioner was worthy of special consideration, because " beloved the people
and built us the synagogue." The discovery and identification of its ruins in later
years have awakened no little attention, and have set at rest a long-standing dispute
as to the site of Capernaum. At Tell H^m, on the lake, remains of a synagogue of
unusual size and beauty have been excavated, the style of which belongs to the
Herodian period of architecture. It appears to have been a common custom to
carve over the entrance of these buildings an emblem, which, as far as we know,
with a single exception, was " the seven-branched candlestick," indicating that they
were designed mainly for illumination or teaching. The exceptional instance is a
0HAP. z.] ST, MARK, Vt
Tell n&m. The lintel of the chief doorway has a oanring in the centre, of ** the
pot of manna," which is encircled with the vine and clusters of grapes. And it ii
tins which enables us to identify " Hia own city," as well as the building where He
delivered one of His most important discourses. ... It was in this building that
our Lord spent the morning of His first Sabbath-day in Galilee, and He taught with
Buch novel power that the people were filled with amazement. They had been used
to the teaching of the scribes, with their interminable details and pueriUties, and
their slavery to traditional interpretation. There was no freedom of thought or
speech, no departure even by a hair's-breadth from the decisions of the doctors,
nothing but the dry bones of Rabbinical exposition, and we are not surprised that
when Christ came and spoke with '• thoughts that breathed and words that burned,"
and drew His illustrations from the sights and sounds in which they lived and
moved, the very freshness delighted them, and they exclaimed at the novelty and
independence of His teaching. (H. M. Luckock, D.D.) Christ in the synagogue
of Capernaum : — I. He entered into the synagogue ow thk Sabbath-dat. 1. The
synagogue — origin unknown. There were two divisions, ten officers, &o. The
service — prayer, <fco. 2. The Sabbath-day. Christ honoured ordinances. Sanctioned
social worship. He is still in the midst of His people. Where will you find Him
on the Sabbath ? II. In the synagogue Chbist tauoht. Not the first time. His
sermon not recorded. The Spirit has amply provided for our instruction. Christ
still preaches. III. The effect. 1. They were astonished. 2. They were not
converted. 8. Many wonder, who do not believe. IV. The chabacteristio of
Christ's teachino was authority. 1. The scribes employed tradition. 2. Christ
spoke assured and naked truth— delivered a message from God — awakened the
testimony of conscience. {Expository Discourses.)
Ver. 22. For He taught them as one that had authority.— Conrfcfton of Christ's
authority through His servant's teaching : — Francis Junius the younger was a con-
siderable scholar, but by no means prejudiced in favour of the Scriptures, as appears
by his own account, which is as follows : — *• My father, who was frequently reading
the New Testament, and had long observed with grief the progress I had made in
infidelity, had put that book in my way in his library, in order to attract my atten-
tion, if it might please God to bless his design, though without giving me the least
intimation of it. Here, therefore, I unwittingly opened the New Testament, thus
providentially laid before me. At the very first view, as I was deeply engaged in
other thoughts, that grand chapter of the evangelist and apostle presented itself to
me (John i.) : * In the beginning was the Word,' &c. I read part of the chapter
and was so affected that I instantly became struck with the divinity of the argu-
ment, and the majesty and authority of the composition, as infinitely surpassing
the highest flights of human eloquence. My body shuddered, my mind was in
amazement, and I was so agitated the whole day that I scarcely knew who I was.
Thou didst remember me, O Lord my God, according to Thy boundless mercy, and
didst bring back the lost sheep to Thy flock. From that day God wrought so
mightily in me by the power of His Spirit, that I began to have less relinh for all
other studies and pursuits, and bent myself with greater ardour and attention to
everything which had a relation to God." An earnest Preacher and an astonished
congregation :—-l. The babnebt Preacher. 1. He recognized the Sabbath as the
time for worship. 2. He recognized instruction as the best method of preaching.
3. He discarded all formality. II. An astonished conorboation. " Astonished
at His doctrine." 1. Because it was new to them. 2. Because they in-
stinctively felt it to be true. {Joseph S. Exell, M.A.) The authority of
Christ : — I. Let us ask how Christ's authority was asserted and claimed. 1. By
the tone of His teaching. 2. By His ministerial acts, e.g.^ the cleansing of the
temple. This assumption of rightful power led to the inquiry of the chief priests
and elders — *'By what authority," <feo. He was the Lord of the temple because He
was Son of God. 3. By His miracles. '* With authority and power commaudeth
He the unclean spirits, and they obey Him." 4. By the exercise of the Divine
prerogative of pardoning sin, e.g., in the cure of the paralytic. H. Considbb upon
what Christ's AUTHORrrY is based. Christ's authority is not based upon force, or
craft, or popular regard ; but upon right and upon conscience. When questioned,
He answered inquiry by inquiry, and boldly declared, " Neither tell I you by what
authority I do these things." 1. His words are authoritative because they are true.
9. His commands, because they are righteous. 8. He wields the personal authority
of peerless love. In all. His authority is Divine, as He is. III. Inquirb oveb whom
38 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap, i,
JLND ovBB WHAT Christ's AUTHORITY EXTENDS. 1. Nature knew it. 2. Satan ooxi^
fessed it. 3. Angels recognized it, ministered to His wants, and stood ready to
rescue and to honour Him. 4. Men felt it. IV. Remark the advantaoes which follow
THE acknowledgment OF Christ's AUTHORITY. 1. For the individual, the fulfilment
of his true being, the harmony of obedience with liberty. 2. For the human race,
its one only sure and Divine hope — "In the name of Jesus every knee shall bow.'*
V. Observe how Christ's authority aitects all hearers op the gospel. The
message of heaven is, indeed, an invitation and a promise. But it is also a com-
mand. {J. R. Thompson, M.A.) The teaching of Christ : — I. The suhjects He
taught. 1. He taught the doctrines of religion. 2. He taught the nature and
necessity of experimental religion. 3. He taught the necessity of practical religion.
He stated that obedience was the only evidence of true discipleship, &c. II. How
He taught these things. 1. With direct plainness. 2. He was a faithful and
earnest teacher (Matt, xxiii.). 3. He was an affectionate and tender teacher. He
did not break the bruised reed, &o. 4. He was a diligent and persevering teacher.
5. He embodied all His instructions in His own blessed example. Application :
1. True Christians are Christ's disciples. They hear Him. This is both a duty and
a privilege. 2. Whosoever will not hear Him must perish — " How shall we
escape," <feo. {J. Burns, D.D.) Christ the model of the Christian ministry : —
I. His doctrine. 1. View His doctrine of God. 2. His doctrine of man. (1)
Responsibility. (2) Man's corrupt and sinful state. II. His manner was in perfect
harmony with the matter of His instruction. 1. The leading characteristic of our
Saviour's manner as a public teacher was earnestness. 2. The earnestness of Christ
was evinced in the simplicity of His teachings. 3. The earnestness of Jesus was
further evinced by the consistency of His life with His doctrine. 4. The earnest-
ness of Jesus was still further manifested in the decision and boldness of His
manner. 6. His tenderness. {J. A, Copp.) The authority of our Lord's teach-
ing : — I. Authority of goodness. Invitations. Beatitudes. H. Authority of
GREATNESS. Claims universal audience. Superiority to Jonah, Solomon, and all
the great names of the Jewish Church. Teaching declarative and dogmatic. III.
Authority of solemnity. His peculiar formula. His denunciations of woe. IV.
Legislative authority. Revises the Mosaic code. Asserts His superiority to law.
Repeals existing economy. Controls laws of nature Himself, and confers the power
on others. '* I say unto you," His new commandment. Not only enacts laws, but
ensures obedience. Conclusion : His teaching exempt from all supposable circum-
stances unfavourable to authoritative teaching. Taught with the perfect conviction of
the truth of His doctrine. His example enforced it. Coi dial sympathy with it. Knew
the ultimate principles on which His doctrines rested. And the supreme value of the
truth He taught. The purity of His motives. The ultimate triumph of His
doctrine. All this must have clothed His teaching, especially when contrasted
witii the prevailing mode of Jewish instruction, with commanding power. His
disciples should be distinguished by reverence and docility. These dispositions to be
sought and found at the throne of grace. (J. Harris, D.D.) Christ's authority
largely derived from His moral atmosphere : — The weight and impressiveness of a
man's words largely depend upon his air, his atmosphere, the mysterious efflux,
exhalation, aerial development of his personality', the moral aroma of his character.
This subtle influence can only be felt, and cannot be defined. Enter the assembly
when young Summerfield is speaking, and there is upon you a power which it is
the highest luxury and dearest blessing to feel. There is incense here, and the
smell of sacrifice. It fills the entire space from the rafters downwards to the floor ;
nay, it pierces the walls and issues from the doors. And what shall we imagine
concerning the atmosphere of that wonderful Being, who spoke as never man
spake ? It was not His look, nor His declamation, nor His fine periods ; it was
not even His prodigious weight of matter ; but it was the sacred exhalation of His
quality, the aroma, the auroral glory of His person. This is what invested Him
with unimpeachable authority, lent to His words spirit and life, and gave to His
doctrine its astonishing power. He took the human nature to exhale an atmo-
sphere of God that should fill and finally renew the creation, bathing all climes, and
times, and ages with its dateless, ineradicable power. (H. Bushnell, D.D.) Minis-
tertal authority: — I, Men will teach well only as they teach under Christ. II.
Authority is impossible apart from association with the Master. HI. Authority
of love must oomb from intensity of conviction. IV. Hearers know the voicb
OF authority. V. The Christian teachb* <s xo show his bufrsmaoy ovsb alXi
OTHER TEACHERS. {J. Parker, D.D.)
CHAP. I.] ST. MARK. 39
Ver. 23. — A man with an unclean spirit — Possessed with a devil: — The devil ia
always endeavouring to work on us, and seizes every advantage offered, and works
through (1) a darkened mind, or (2) disordered nerves, or (3) a depraved heart. lu
all ages you find him oppressing with his torture all that are so conditioned, espe-
cially those with disordered nerves or depraved heart. The time of Christ was an
age of wilduess and despair. Oppression drove men mad. The man in the syna-
gogue may have merely had disordered nerves, and have been simply a good man
plunged into insane melancholy ; or he may have had a depraved heart, sinking at
last through remorse into despair. For, all badness tends to grow into madness.
Some sin lies at the root of five-sixths of all our English madness. Falsehood and
selfishness make men madly suspicious; vice softens the brain; drunkenness
especially sinks men into madness. " Whomsoever we obey, his servants we are,"
and if we obey the devil we soon give him the upper hand over us. {R. Glcver.)
The man with an unclean spirit : — I. Thb place to which the Savioub game.
** And they went into Capernaum," &c. 1. The occasion which led Him hither was
strange and very distressing. In Nazareth He was in danger of losing His life,
they •* led Him unto the brow of the hill whereon their city was built, that they
might cast Him down headlong," &c. So He left them, and directed His steps to-
wards Capernaum, where He now appears. 2. The object which brought Him here
was one of great interest and importance. He came to Capernaum to make it His
future home. As His headquarters, during His public ministry, it was peculiarly
adapted, affording facility of communication, as well by land and lake, with many
flourishing towns, and of escape into more secure regions in case of threatened
persecution. 8. The character which He assumed here was not that of a private
citizen, but of a public Teacher. U. The individual with whom oub Lord came
IN CONTACT. 1. His miserable condition. 2. The language which this evil spirit
employed. (1) His request. He insisted to be let alone, but that could not be.
(2) His inquiries — "What have we to do with Thee?" As a Saviour they had
nothing to do with Him ; they are amenable to Him as their Judge. (3) His confes-
sion— " I know Thee who Thon art." This unclean spirit makes a most accurate,
explicit, and full confession ; it was also full of alarm. III. The wonderful power
which Jesus displayed. We have here to consider — 1. His authoritative command
— "Holdthy peace," (fee. He would not accept the commendation of devils. He
silenced them. 2. The spirit's reluctant submission — "And when the unclean
spirit had torn him," Ac. In vain he struggled to retain his hold of the poor victim.
IV. The effects which the memorable act produced. 1. It excited the greatest
astonishment. 2. It caused His fame to be widely extended. {Expository Outlines.)
The devil in church : — I. A devil in chubch. Synagogue means church. For the
time being it was a Christian church, because Christ taught in it. In it was a devil.
Devils are found in strange places. In Paradise. " Among the sons of God " (Job i.).
Notice their infinite impudence. Hard to say whether the man took the devil, or
the devU took him. Whichever it was, illustrates his accommodating character.
So now a self-righteous devil accompanies men to puff them np with pride ; a
critical devil to quarrel with the doctrine or the preacher. Jl. Thb devil's creed.
The demon was orthodox. No heresy in hell. What he believed he publicly pro-
fessed. Many have a better faith who are silent. His confession was rejected.
Profession worthless without submission. Impiety of creed without conduct. III.
The devil's pbaier. It was earnest and social, like that of Dives. Possible to pray
earnestly and benevolently but in vain. It was prompted by fear and by wicked-
ness. " Leave us alone " to sin and to torment. IV. The devil's excommunica-
tion. In coming out he " tore " him, Ac, just as an evil-disposed out-going tenant
does as much harm as possible in his last opportunity. What an expulsion I Public ;
by a word ; in vain, the devil did not repent. This came of his orthodoxy, for it
was without fruit ; and of his prayer, for it was without faith. {A. J. Morris.)
Holiness is eminently characteristic of Christ : — 1. As He is God. 2. As through
a spotless incarnation He was the grand sacrifice for sin. 3. As His own pure nature
was the model to which all that believe in Him are to be renewed by the transform-
ing power of His grace. 4. As He was manifested to destroy the works of the devil.
{R. Watson.) Amazed at the miracles of Christ : — Don't be startled or driven into
unbelief by miracles. God is greater than these. They are not the wonders, but
the minor incidents, an index of what is in God, and not the full power of God pu«
forth. I have seen a teacher of physics make experiments in the lecture-room on
the electric battery. He makes the miniature flashes crack off its surface. Verv
interesting, very beautiful, for every tiny spark is the same as the lightning flash
40 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [cha». i.
which cleaves the clouds like the sword of an archangel. The same f Yes, but a
very small part of the terrific force which awakens the echoes of heaven, and makes
the pillars of the earth tremble. You cannot believe in miracles » They are nothing
— experiments in the lecture-room. Lo I these are parts of His ways ; but the
thunder of His power who can understand. (T. Morlais Jones.) Christ easts out
a devil : — I, Christ's teaching was ENroRCED by a miracle. 1. Proved His com-
zms3ion and His benevolence to man. 2. Ulustrated the objects of His kingdom —
" to destroy," &c. Our benevolence should aim at this object. 3. The manner ol
the miracle showed that He would not receive the testimony of devils, even to the
truth. The devil is a liar — his testimony not needed, &o. Let us be as careful as
to the means employed as to the end. 4. The manner of the miracle shows thai
a speculative truth may be in a devilish mind. 6. The people were amazed, but
did not acknowledge His Messiahship. We wonder — we need not. Let us be oon^
vinced of the need of Divine power to enable us to call Jesus the Christ. II. Ghbist's
FAME SPREAD ABROAD. 1. This resulted from His teaching, and still more from
His miiucles — wonderful, beneficent. 2. The gospel has always united temporal
good with spiritual good. Man has sought to separate them — to take one and reject
the other. 3. The fame of Christ left the Jewish nation without excuse. {Exposi-
tory Discourses.) The two antagonistic powers of the sanctuary: — I. There
is the SATANIC POWBB in the sanctuary. 1. Satan is there to interrupt the service
conducted by an earnest preacher. 2. To occasion distress to human souls. 3.
He is entirely subject to the power of Christ IL There is the Chbistlt powsb
in the sanctuary. 1. To instruct souls. 2. To free souls from the tyranny of the
devil. {Joseph S, Exell, M.A.)
Yer. 24. Let ns alone ; what have wa to do with Thea 7 — The happinesi of heaven
can only be appreciated by the holy : — Even supposing a man of unholy Ufe were
suffered to enter heaven, he would not be happy there ; so that it would be no meroy
to permit him to enter. For heaven, it is plain from Scripture, is not a place where
many different and discordant pursuits can be carried on at once, as is the case in
this world. Here every man can do his own pleasure, but there he must do God's
pleasure. It would be presumption to attempt to determine the employments of
that eternal life which good men are to pass in God's presence, or to deny that that
state which eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor mind conceived, may comprise an
infinite variety of pursuits and occupations. Still, so far we are distinctly told that
that future life will be spent in God's presence, in a sense which does not apply
to our present life ; so that it may best be described as an endless and uninterrupted
worship. Heaven, then, is not Hke this world ; I wiU say what it is much more
like — a church. For in a place of worship no language of this world is heard ; there
are no schemes brought forward for temporal objects, great or small ; no information
how to strengthen our worldly interests, extend our influence, or establish our credit.
These things, indeed, may be right in their way, so that we do not set our hearts
upon them ; still, I repeat, it is certain that we hear nothing of them in a church.
Here we hear solely and entirely of God. We praise Him, worship Him, sing to
Him, thank Him, confess to Him, give ourselves up to Him, and ask His blessing.
And, therefore, a church is like heaven ; viz., because both in the one and the
other there is one single sovereign subject— rehgion — brought before us. Supposing,
then, instead of it being said that no irreligious man could serve and attend on God
in heaven, we were told that no irreligious man could worship or spiritually
see Him in church, should we not at once perceive the meaning of the doctrine ?
viz., that were a man to come hither, who had suffered his mind to grow up in its
own way, as nature or chance determined, without any dehberate habitual effort
after truth and purity, he would find no real pleasure here, but would soon get
weary of the place ; because, in this house of God, he would hear only of that one
subject which he cared little or nothing about, and nothing at all of those things
which excited his hopes and fears, his sympathies and energies. If then a man
without religion (supposing it possible) were admitted into heaven, doubtless ha
would sustain a great disappointment. Before, indeed, he fancied that he could be
happy there ; but when he arrived there, he would find no discourse but that which
he had shunned on earth, no pursuits but those he had disliked or despised,
nothing which bound him to aught else m the universe, and made him feel at home,
nothing which he could enter into and rest upon. He would perceive himself to be
an isolated being, out away by supreme power from those objects which were still
entwined around his heart. Nay, he would be in the presence of that Supreme
CHAP. I.] 8T. MARK. 41
Power, whom he never on earth could bring himself steadily to think upon, and whom
now he regarded only as the Destroyer of all that was precious and dear to him. Ah I
he could not bear the face of the living God ; the Holy God would bene object of joy
to him. •♦ Let us alone 1 What have we to do with Thee ? " is the sole thought and
desire of unclean souls, even while they acknowledge His Majesty. None but the
holy can look upon the Holy One ; without holiness no man can endure to see the
Lord. {J, H. Newman, D.D.) The Holy One of God: — Some rest in praising
the sermon and speaking fair to the preacher. The devil here did as rtuch to
Christ, to be rid of him. {Trapp.) Jesus rebuking the unclean spirit: — ''Is
Satan bigger than me, father 7 " asked a child. " Yes," replied the father. •• Than
you ? " " Yes." " Than Jesus? " " No." " Then," replied the child, *• I don't
fear him." (Anonymous.) Jesus not wanted: — There are those who are
possessed by the devil of drunkenness, or of lust, or of foul language, or of dis-
honesty, and they profess not to believe in Jesus and the gospel ; but it is not they
do not believe, they are afraid to believe. The man who is killing himself by excess,
is told by the doctor that he must change his life, or die. He laughs at the advice,
and declares that he does not believe it. But he does believe it, only he is afraid to
think of it. So it is with many who are styled unbelievers. I have heard of a man
who said to God's priest who visited him — *• We don't want God in this house."
There are many such houses, places of business and private homes, where, if people
Bpoke all their mind, they would say, ''Let us alone; what have we to do with
Thee, Thou Jesus of Nazareth ? We don't want God in this house." It is an awful
thought, my brothers, that sometimes God takes ns at our word. It is written,
"Ephraim is joined to his idols, let him alone." Alas for those who find in the
hour of sickness, and of sorrow, and of death, that God ha<« left them alone I I
wonder how many times that man in the Gospel had attended the services of the
synagogue before the day when Jesus healed him. Probably he was a regular wor-
i^pper there, but he brought his unclean spirit with him. That is just what so
many people do now. They come to the church, or attend their meeting-house, and
go through the outward forms of religion, but the unclean spirit goes with them.
Satan has shut the door of their heart, and no holy word, no pare thought, no
tender feeling of remorse and penitence can enter in. This is why so many of our
religious Bervices bear no fruit. (H. J, Wilmot Buwton, M.A.)
Vers. 29-31. But Simon's wife's mother lay sick of a fe^er.— 5{mon*« vife: —
The Lord chose as the first of His apostles a married man, and after his election to
follow the Lord he did not separate from his wife, but the Lord honours the family
by sometimes dwelling in their house. St. Paul implies (1 Cor. ix. 6) that at
times, at least, she accompanied St. Peter in his journeys. It appears from a very
touching account given by Clement of Alexandria, that they were living together
when she was called to martyrdom. " They say, accordingly, that Peter, on seeing
his wife led to death, rejoiced on account of her call and conveyance home, and
called very encouragingly and comfortingly, addressing her by name, * Remember
thou the Lord.* Such was the marriage of the blessed, and their perfect disposi-
tion towards those dearest to them." (M. F. Sadler.) Miracles are instructive
emblems of Scriptural truth : — Spiritual truth, to be clearly discerned, often needs
to be embodied in the more significant language of action. Christ's miracles are
like mirrors — bringing within easy view objects hard to see or quite out of sight.
The famous picture of Aurora by Guido adorns the ceiling of one of the palaces of
Rome. The discomfort attending the effort to look up, for the length of time
required to study its beauty, is so great, that one could not adequately estimate its
merit if there were no other way of viewing it. But a mirror, set up in the room so
as to reflect the picture, permits the beholder to view it at his leisure with perfect
ease. So the great miracle of the renewing of the soul is above our inspection, but
in the mirror-miracles of Jesus we have reflections, helping us to the better under-
standing of that spiritual work. Thus we may gain more good from them, than was
imparted to those for whose special benefit they were originally wronght. {A. H.
Currier.) The Great Physician's skill : — We have — I. A scene of domestic trouble.
1. Trouble is -v idespread and manifold. 2. Earthly kinships are sources both of joy
and grief. 3. Domestic trouble should not detain us from God's house. II. An
APPLICATION FOB BELIEF— '-* Auou they tell Him of her." 1. It was intercessory
prayer. 2. We admire the simplicity of their request. 8. Nor should we over-
look their promptness of suit. III. Gbaciods iNTEBPOsrrioN. 1. Here is a nearer
approach. Though Christ has come near to us He can come nearer yet. 2. Jesuf
43 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. i.
Christ does not refrain from personal contact. 3. Christ's gracious touch elevates
prostrate humanity — "He lifted her up." IV. Grateful recompense — "She
ministered unto them." 1. The recipient of Christ's grace exhibits gratitude in a
practical form. 2. Unconsciously she performed good service for others. 3. Jesus
Christ stoops to accept service from all. V. Christ's healing virtue brings to
LIGHT society's MANIFOLD SORES. 1. The life of mcu is also their light. Jesus
revealed to men, and to society, their needs. Probably no one knew that there was
a demoniac in the synagogue, until Jesus began to teach. Men hide their deeper
needs even from themselves, until the Healer comes. 2. Men's minds naturally
reason from the special to the general. 3. We must observe how tolerant Christ is
of human prejudices and traditional habits. The inhabitants of Capernaum would
not bring their sick until the sun had set, i.«., until the Sabbath had closed.
Towards human ignorance He is inexpressibly pitiful. 4. The rewards of faithful
service are larger service yet. Jesus had blessed a man, a family ; now He is re-
quired to bless a city. So shall it be in heaven. Fidelity shall be honoured by
more responsible service — " Be thou ruler over ten cities." VI. The manifold
NEEDS of man DISCLOSE THE HIDDEN GLORY OF ChRIST. VIL ChRIST IS THE HOPE OF
HUMANITY, BUT THE TERROR OF DEMONS. *' The wholo city was gathered to Him at
the door." Men are more conscious of bodily evils, than of soul malady. But the
goodness that attracts men, repels demons. (D. Davies, M.A.) Jems a»
Healer : — ^Note — I. The variety of the cases of healing. Fever. Divers diseases, de-
moniacal possession. Leprosy. Christ had no specialty ; His resources were varied ;
He can touch aU classes of human need. II. How healing was effected by per-
sonal contact — *• Took her by the hand." ** Put forth His hand and touched him. "
III. How RAPIDLY THE PATIENTS WERE HEALED — "immediately." Ordinarily healing
travels slowly ; here as if by lightning. So in matters spiritual. IV. How manifest
WAS THE BEALiTY OF THE HEALING. Petcr's mother-in-law " ministered." Work of
Christ in man always seen in its effects. Saul (Gal. i 23). {H. Thome.) A
domestic drama : — I. What the friends of the sick woman did. 1. They told Jesus
of her. Worth while to be sick to be brought to Him. 2. Anon they told Him of
her, i.e., at once. 3. They told Him of her. Often what is everybody's business is
nobody's. 4. They told Biim of her. Prayer is teUing Jesus. II. What Jesus did.
1. He came : at once, but not always at once, for good reasons . 2. He took her by
the hand. Without ceremony : familiarly. 3. He lifted her up. Gospel always
raises. 4. He healed her immediately. Pardon instantly ours when we grasp
Christ's hand. HI. What the restored woman did. Ministered. We are saved
to work : by precept and example. (J. S. Swan.) The religious wes of time : —
I. Social service (ver. 31). II. Public ministry (vers. 32-34). III. Private devotion
(ver. 35). (J. Parker, D.D.) Christ's public and private ministry : — Jesus had a
public ministry in the synagogue ; a private ministry in the domestic circle. L
The individual case as well as that of the multitudes should receive atten-
tion. II. Bodily diseases as well as spiritual ailments are within the sphere
OF OUB SOLICITUDE. III. We ABE TO PUT OURSELVES IN PERSONAL CONTACT WITH THE
BUFFERING. We Can do little by proxy. IV. We should never leave a house
WITHOUT LEAVING A BLESSING BEHIND. V. OUR VISITS, LIKE THE MaSTEB'S, SHOULD
NOT BE MERE VISITS OF COURTESY. {Ibid.^ Simou's toife's mother : — If Peter was
the first Pope, he set them an example m this respect which all the popes and all
the clergy would have been wise to follow. Nature never injures grace. It is not
desirable to be without parents in our youth, or without wife or husband in our
mature life. The love of another heart is not only a quiet resting-place, but a great
aid to goodness ; and he who loves well wife or child will love God better for doing
BO. (R. Olover.) Simon'i wife's mother: — I. Let us ascertain what it teaches
CONCERNING THIS NOTED APOSTLE, SiMON Pbtbb. " Marriage is honourable in all,"
** Let every man have his own wife, and let every woman have her own husband."
II. What do we know of this woman who was cured ? But there is something to
be said concerning the wife herself, and this is of special importance. There is
reason to believe that she remained a most faithful companion and fellow-worker
with Peter, whom Paul always calls " Cephas," down to the end of her life. For
in one of Paul's epistles an allusion is made to her : he says, •* Have we not power
to lead about a sister, a wife, as well as other apostles, and as the brethren of the
Lord, and Cephas ? " This was written more than twenty years after Christ's
resurrection, when Peter was an old man. As a comment upon the verse, Clement
of Alexandria adds : '♦ Peter and Philip had children, and both took about their
wives, in order that they might act as their assistants in ministering to women at
CHAP. I.] ST, MARK,
their own homes ; by their means tbe doctrine of th- Lord penetrated without
scandal into the privacy of the women's apartments." III. What do we know
ABOUT THE OTHER MEMBERS OF THIS apostle's FAMILY ? There is a beautiful little
legend, altogether uninspired, which is founr] in the history of sacred and legendary
art ; there is nothing to prevent its being true, and it is certainly worth telling.
Tbe story relates that Peter had a lovely daughter, born in lawful wedlock, who
accompanied him in his journey from the East. At Rome she fell sick of a griev-
ous infirmity which deprived her of the use of her limbs. One of Simon's disciplea
sitting at meat with him said : " Master, how is it that thou, who healest the in-
firmities of others, dost not heal thy daughter Petronilla ? " *• It is good for her to
remain sick," replied her father, perhaps thinking of the profitable discipline which
the pain might bring to her. But that they all might see the power that was in the
word of God, he commanded her to get up and serve them at table — which she did.
Then afterwards, praying fervently, the maiden was permanently healed. IV. It
is refreshing to turn from the mere poetry of a legend to the serene majesty of
nisTORY. And now there is a lesson in almost every particular. 1. Was this
woman sick of a great fever ? Then we see how Christ is the only help, but always
the sure help, in desperate cases. He is able to save bodies and souls " to the
uttermost." 2. Did the disciples go and tell Jesus of her ? Then we may note the
advantage of faith in the Divine and sovereign Saviour. " None but Jesus can do
helpless sinners good." S. Are we told that those home-friends besought the Lord
in her behalf ? Then we learn how necessary is fervent prayer. " For all these
things will I be inquired of by the house of Israel." 4. Did our Saviour touch this
woman's hand, and touch it only, for her cure ? Then observe how delicate is the
ministration of Divine grace in the gospel, and let us be gentle with souls. 5. Was it
the interposition of other people which availed to bring this aick creature to health ?
Then how fine is the office of human means and instruments with God. There is
really a glorious share in the work of saving souls which He permits. 6. Do we
notice that this woman was also lifted up by Jesus f The miracle is a parable ;
God never lays a commandment on any soul which He does not aid that soul in
performing for Him. 7. Did the cured woman rise at once to begin her grateful
service ? It is by that we know her healing was perfectly done. The good Lord
never leaves body or soul half- delivered from ill. 8. Was Simon's wife's mother
satisfied to minister to Jesus Christ right off and right there ? Then think how
much valuable time some impatient people waste in trying to find a field of work
for Christ, when most likely the best task lies nearest at hand. This woman entered
'* the ministry " just as truly as Simon Peter did : he preached, and she served ;
that was ministry. 9. Were these wonderful privileges misused and perverted by
Capernaum ? Then let all the world know and remember that it is pre-eminently
a dangerous thing to do, this disregard of the merciful manifestations of the Divine
presence among men. {G. S. Robinson, D.D.) Peter's mother-in-law cured: —
I. The sufferer. II. Her complaint. III. Her cure. 1. That there was no
parade. 2. There was no delay. 3. There was no ground for doubting its reality.
{Expository Outlines.) The best house visitation : — I. How grace came to Peter's
house. II. What it did in Peter's house. III. How it flowed forth from Peter's
house. {G. U. Spurgeon.) Wherever Christ comes, He comes to do good, and
will be sure to pay richly for His entertainment. (M. Henry.) Domestic afflic-
tion healed by Ghrist : — I. The scene of this domestic affliction. 1. The home of
a disciple. 2. The house visited by Christ. II. The healing of this domestic
affliction. I. It was done tenderly. 2. It was done immediately. 3. It was done
easily. 4. It was done effectually. III. The healing was followed by ministka-
TiON. 1. It was prompted by the glad impulse of her new strength. 2. It was
obligated by a remembrance of her Benefactor. 3. It was required by her relatives.
4, It was not avoided by unreal excuses. Lessons: 1. Cultivate in your homes
the feeling of discipleship toward Christ. 2. Seek Christ as a constant Visitor to your
home. S. Tell Christ of all your domestic sorrows. 4. Let His healing touch be
immediately followed by your active ministration. {Joseph S. Exell, M.A.)
Mutual benefits : — The afflicted should receive sympathy and succour, and return
kindness and help. {J. H. Godioin.) Instant healing from Ghrist : — By Hia
touch He restored her immediately to health and strength. This no human
physician could have done. After a fever a long convalescence ensues before health
returns. But in the case of Christ's miracles, it was with diseases as with the sea.
After a storm there is a swell, before the sea sinks into a calm. But Christ reduced
the fury of the sea by a word to perfect calm, as He did the rage of the fever to
44 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap. i.
perfect health. She arose and was ministering to Him, thus proving the cure and
her own love to its Author. (Bishop Chris. Wordsworth.) The ministry of
women : — Became a servant to them. Her work was common women's work which
had simply to do with the physical wants of Christ and His disciples. There are
a few women who are called by God to work publicly for Him : bat for the most
part the ministry of women lies in another direction. We are not to be so much
like Miriam and Deborah as like Buth and Hannah. If we cannot preach we can
work for the poor as Dorcas did ; we may lend our rooms for Bible readings and
prayer meetings, as did Mary the mother of Mark ; and like the elect lady we may
bring up our children to work in the truth. We can minister to the disciples who
are in our house ; to ignorant servants ; to the sick, and old, and lonely ; to thos6
who have few friends and whom other workers overlook. Whatever we are we may
do something for Christ. Some can speak for Him, more can sing for Him, and
more still can smile for Him. Willing hands will not remain long idle if wedded
to thoughtful hearts and observant eyes. {MariauTie Famingham.)
Vers. 32-34. And at even when the son did set — In ministering to the eiek, tog
follow and find Christ : — I. Describe the scene at Capernaum to which text alludes.
Presence of Christ among sick. Wonderful change His visit wrought. What
happy hearts and homes ; what prayers and praises ; what jubilant psalms. II. If
we be true Christians, we believe we shall see that same Jesus coming forth to
reward those who have done works of mercy in His name. Such works are the only
proof of our possessing that charity which is the development and excellence of
faith and hope. Such works are within the reach of all. III. Of such works none
can be more merciful than the visitation of the sick. Let ns all do our best to
prevent disease. Better to keep sickness away than to repair its ravages. IV. Help
those who help themselves, by providing against the time of sickness — life assurance
societies, benefit clubs, &o. V. And those who cannot help themselves. The parish
doctor should have less work and more pay. VI. Do we honour the physician f
VU. And those who nurse and wait upon the sick ? VIII. Do we ourselves visit
the sick f So finding Jesus, so taught to suffer and to die. IX. Appeal in His
name and in His words, (Canon S. R, Hole, M.A.) Hospital healing : — When
one of the greatest of God's heroes, one of the most illustrious saints of Christen*
dom, made an oration— preached, as we should say, a funeral sermon — concerning
a brother, holy and heroic, whose soul was in Paradise — when Gregory of Nazianzum
would show unto the people how, though Basil rested from his labours, his works
did follow, and he being dead yet spoke — he pointed towards the hospital which
Basil had built, and said, *' Go forth a little out of the city, and see the new city,
his treasure of godliness, the storehouse of alms which he collected ; see the place
where disease is relieved by charity and by skill, where the poor leper finds at last
a home 1 It was Basil who persuaded men to care for others ; it was Basil who
taught them thus to honour Christ." (Ibid.) Power to heal: — I. Its desion two-
fold. 1. To do good. 2. To prove the Messiahship of Jesus (John xiv. 11). II.
Its EFFECT twofold. 1. It awakcncd general interest in Him. 2. It led many to
believe on Him. III. Its all-compbehensiveness. 1. Over material nature — e.g.,
walking on the water, curing diseases, &o. 2. Over spiritual nature— «.j7., expelling
lemons, &o. IV. Its lessons for ns. We should learn from the miracle-working
power of Jesus (1) His real and personal interest in us. (2) That nothing can
baffle His skill or resist His power if we put our case in His hands. (D. C,
Hughes, M.A.) Christ the restorer of humanity : — If we may reverently compare
this scene with its modem analogies, it bears less a resemblance to anything tha^
occurs in the life of a clergyman, than to the occupation of a physician to a hos-
pital on the day of his seeing his out-patients. There is, indeed, all the difference
in the world between the best professional advice and the summary cure such as
was our Lord's. But we are, for the moment, looking at the outward aspects of the
scene ; and it shows very vividly how largely Christ's attention was directed to the
well-being of the bodily frame of man. Now it would be a great mistake to sup-
pose that this feature of our Saviour's ministry was accidental or inevitable.
Nothing in His work was accidental : all was deliberate, all had an object. Nothing
in His work was inevitable, except so far as it was freely dictated by His wisdom
and His mercy. To suppose that this union in Him of Prophet and Physician was
determined by the necessity of some rode civilization, such as that of certain tribes
in Central Africa and elsewhere, or certain periods and places in medieeval Europe
when knowledge was iBcantj, when it was easy and needful for a single person at
X.] ST. MARK. 46
each social centre to master all that was known on two or three great Bubjeota — this
is to make a supposition which does not apply to Palestine at the time of oar Lord's
appearance. The later prophets were prophets and nothing more — ^neither legis-
lators, nor statesmen, nor physicians. In John the Baptist we see no traces of the
restorative power exerted on some rare occasions by Elijah and Elisha ; and when
our Lord appeared, dispensing on every side oures for bodily disease, the sight was
just as novel to His contemporaries as it was welcome. Nor are His healing works
to be accounted for by saying that they were only designed to draw attention to His
message, by certificating His authority to deliver it ; or by saying that they were
only symbols of a higher work which He had more at heart in its many and vary-
ing aspects — the work of healing the diseases of the human soul. True it is that
His healing activity had this double value : it was evidence of His authority as a
Divine Teacher ; it was a picture in detail, addressed to sense, of what, as the
Restorer of our race, He meant to do in regions altogether beyond the sphere of
flense. But these aspects of His care for the human body were not, I repeat,
primary ; they were strictly incidental. We may infer with reverence and with
certainty that His first object was to show Himself as the Deliverer and Restorer
of human nature as a whole : not of the reason and conscience merely without the
imagination and the affections — not of the spiritual side of men's nature, without
the bodily ; and, therefore, He was not merely Teacher, but also Physician, and
therefore and thus He has shed upon the medical profession to the end of time a
radiance and a consecration which is ultimately due to the conditions of that
redemptive work, to achieve which He came down from heaven teaching and
healing. {Canon Liddon.) A great Jwspital Sunday near a great city : — I. This
is the story of a wondebpul Sabbath— a true Sunday—-" One of the days of the
Son of Man. " H. What a picture it gives us of His powbr as the Healeb. And
do not these healing powers exerted by Christ declare that there is a spiritual order
in the universe outside of the natural order, and beneath whose powers all the
natural disorder will be at last reduced to subjection. These miracles are illustra-
tions of the character and intention of God loving us. HI. This is the doctrine ;
BUT WHAT IB ANY DOOTBINB WITHOUT AN APPLICATION ? What is the USO Of faith in
Christ without appropriation ? Jesus has not come into the world to condemn, but
to heal and save it. His love is universal. Fly to the healing of God in Jesus Christ.
{E. Paxton Hood.) The house of mercy : — Once it was given to me to see the
soul of man as a poor creature out at night in a wild storm and hurricane, flying
through the tempest over a wild moor houseless ; the wild lightnings blazed across
the heath, and revealed one house, and thither fled the soul. " Who lives here ? "
•• Justice." •♦ Oh, Justice, let me in, for the storm is very dreadful." But Justice
said, *• Nay, I cannot shelter thee, for I kindled the lightnings and the hurricanes
from whence you are flying." And I saw the poor spirit hastening over the plain,
and the storm-flash lit up another house, and thither fled the soul. *• Who lives
here ? ' " Truth." •• Oh, Truth, shelter me." " Nay," said the white-robed
woman. Truth's handmaid, " Hast thou loved Truth so much and been so faithful
to her that thou canst fly to her for shelter? Not so ; there is no shelter here."
And away in weariness sped the soul through that wild night. Still through tiie
gleams of the blue heavens looked out a third house through the drenching storm.
"And who lives here?" said the lost soul. "Peace." " Oh, peace, let me inl "
" Nay, nay ; none enter the house of Peace but those whose hearts are Peace." And
then near to the house of Peace rose another house, white and beautiful through
the livid light. "Who lives here?" "Mercy. Fly thither, poor soul. I have
been sitting up for thee, and this house was built for thy shelter and thy home."
I read and hear such lessons as I watch Christ moving through the sick multitude
that Sabbath evening in that old city. (Ibid.) Christ*s miracles : — These may
be divided into distinct classes. I. Miracles of bestobation. Raising up the
afflicted from a helpless, incapable state, to a condition of self-help and usefulness.
This Christ's grace is continually doing. Sin works evil results on man's nature
similar to, and worse than, those wrought by fever, paralysis, or impotency, making
men vicious, shiftless, indolent, useless. The gospel brings back our fallen nature
to its proper dignity and worth. H. Miracles dbliverino fbom bvil spibits. Do
we not Bometimes feel, even the best of us, as demoniacs act? The power of Christ
can cure us. HL Miracles of cleansino. Sin defiles the purity of the soul, and,
•o far as this defilement is felt and perceived, it separates the sinner from others.
He feels tbat a gulf divides him from the pure and good ; his conscience often drives
him into voluntary solitude ; and if his sin is particularly gross and shameful, the
46 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chaf. i.
Bentiment of society sends him into banishment. The seeds of evil which produce
this defilement are hid in every soul. They are the source of evil thoughts and
base suggestions which we are glad are not visible to all. Who could bare to expose
his secret thoughts to the gaze of the world? Who has not need to pray, " Make
and keep me pure within ? " Christ's grace is able to do this. He cleanses from
the foulest leprosy of sin. {A, H. Currier.) There is in man something akin to
the diabolical : — He is subject to violent and wasting passions, often dominated by
a fierce and ungovernable temper ; exhibits, upon slight provocation, anger, im-
patience, hatred, revenge; is ill-natured, moody, capricious, sullen ; ready at times
to take up arms against all the world, and shunned and detested in turn for his
spirit of malicious mischief. We have all seen pronounced examples of this sort —
probably have suffered from their malice and ill-temper. They may be persons of
great energy and ability. They are not indolent or shiftless. They know how to
make money, and how to nse it for their own advantage. They are keen, shrewd,
and successful in business. Sometimes they bestow magnificent gifts — exhibit
strange freaks of generosity ; but of true kindness and amiability, or the disposition
to make others happy, they have but little. They seem, in short, to be possessed by
a devil. The fanlt may be often due to inherited qualities, or to neglect of early
training. They were not disciplined to self-control. One of the princes of the old
French monarchy manifested in childhood and youth an unhappy disposition of
this kind. But he was placed under the care of a wise and pious teacher, who
laboured so snccessfully to correct his violent temper, that he became one of the
most amiable of men. A painstaking Christian mother often amends the faults of
nature. {Ibid.) Sun-set : — 1. The natural sun set, but the Sun of Bighteous-
ness arose with healing in His wings. Evening and morning Christ was at work.
S. Men oome to Christ according to the urgency of their want. Here it was phy-
sical. It is well if men can feel their need of Christ at any point. 3. When men
begin with their lower wants they should ascend to the higher. {J, Parker, D.D.)
The attraction of Jesus : — Leaving the Paris exhibition as the sun went down,
I noted an electno light that, revolving round and round, shot its ethereal pencilled
rays far across the sky, touching with a momentary radiance the vegetation or the
buildings across which they passed ; and looking up I noted innumerable sparks
wavering, Tibrating in the illumination. For a moment I could not think what
this meant, for there is scarcely any scintillation, and certainly no sparks, thrown off
from the electric light. Then in an instant it occurred to me that these bright
lights were myriads of insects attracted from the dark ocean of air around, and
which, protected from the burning luminary by the strong glass, were safely
rejoicing in the ecstasy of those beams. So here, around the beams of spiritual
light and love that radiate from the Saviour, the i»numerable hosts of suffering,
struggling men and women of that day come within the field of our vision. (.7^,
Allanson Picton, M.A.) Diverse elements in humanity dealt with by Christianity : —
A wild, strange flame rages in human nature, that in combinations of great
feeling and war and woe, is surpassed by no tragedy or epic, nor by all tragedies
and epics together. In the soul's secret chambers there are Fansts more subtle
than Faust, Hamlets more mysterious than Hamlet, Lears more distracted and
desolate than Lear ; wills that do what they allow not, and what they would not, do ;
wars in the members ; bodies of death to be carried, as in Paul ; wild horses of the
mind, governed by no rein, as in Plato; subtleties of cunning, plausibilities of
seeming virtues, memories writ in letters of fire, great thoughts heaving under thb
brimstone marl of revenges ; pains of wrong, and of sympathy with suflfering wrong;
aspirations that have lost courage ; hates, loves, beautiful dreams and tears ; aU
these acting at cross purposes, and representing the broken order of the mind. If
some qualified teacher by many years of study could worm out a thoroughly per-
eeptive interpretation of sin, or lecture on the working or pathology of mind under
evil, he would offer a contribution to the true success of Christian preaching,
greater than, perhaps, any human teacher has ever yet contributed. {H. Bush,
nell, D.D.) Miracles at Capernaum : — I. Christ hbalino. "And at even, when
the sun did set," <fec. 1. The season was interesting. It was on a Sabbath even-
ing. 2. The ailments of the sufferers were various. 8. The excitement produced
• /as great. 4. The number of those who were cured was considerable. II. Chbist
/BATiMa. 1. When He prayed. 2. Where He prayed. III. Chbist pbeachino.
1. The importance He attached to it — " For therefore came I forth." 2. The places
in which He exercised His ministry — '• Throughout all Galilee." 3. The encouraging
indications which appeared — "All men seek for Thee." {Expository Outlines.)
CHAP. I.] ST. MARK,
Ver. 85. And In tbe morning, rising: np a great while before day.— If we would
jpray well, we must pray early : — Christians have often to choose between the
mdulgence of a little more sleep and the time of prayer cnt short, and scant and
harried devotion, or between a little self-denial in sleep and the freshest and best
hours of the day given to God, and God blessing the self-denial by answering the
prayer. {M. F. Sadler.) Convenience made for private prayer : — Ghrist had no
conveniences for securing quiet, but He made them. The hill-top was His chamber,
and darkness His bolted door. He had no time for prayer, but He made time,
rising *• a great while before day." Say not yon have no time or secret place for
prayer. Where there is a will there is a way to get both these things. {R, Glover,)
Jesus in tecret prayer : — L Thb beabino of this vaot on Himself. 1. It proves
the reality of His human nature. 2. It proves that as man He was subject to the
same limitations and moral conditions as we are. 8. It proves that even sinless
beings, when tried, need Divine help. II. Trat bbabino of this fact oh ub. 1. If
Jesus prayed, it is neither unscientific nor unbecoming in ns to pray. 2. If Jesus
prayed, no disciple can become so strong or holy as to be beyond the need of
praying. 8. Prayer has positive power with God, and is more than a subjective
influence. 4. If Jesus prayed, all ought and need to pray. 5. Having the name
of Jesus to plead, every one may be assured of being heard and answered. (D. C.
HugheSf M.A.) Christ praying: — ^What an example of swift, unselfish activity.
The Saviour cannot forego prayer, it is too important and necessary ; but He will
not let it interfere with His activity in behalf of others. Keep this in mind when
tempted to neglect prayer because time so much taken up with work. I. Only
BY COMBINING PBAYEB AND WOBE WILL WOBE BE PBBVENTED FBOM INJUBINQ VS. 1.
Even spiritual work may not always be beneficial ; for it may draw as away from
the cultivation of our own personal religious life; or foster within us the spirit of
self-elation ; or beget within ns a feeling of despondency. 2. Secular work, it is
easy to see, is likely to affect ns injuriously. The wear and tear of the spirit, in
the midst of the rush and roar of the world's business for six days in the week,
will seriously unfit a man for spiritual exercises on the seventh. Transition from
one order of occupation to the other will require an effort he will be too languid to
put forth. No remedy but frequent intercourse with God in the midst of toil. II.
Only thus will wobe bring tbue blessing. Prayer brings the Divine blessing
down. Even Christ sought it thus. Do all work for CK)d, and seek to have God
with you in it all. III. Only thus will wobe become a nELiGHx to us. This is
an important consideration, since with most of ns life is filled with work. Would
we not have it a refreshment rather than a burden ? The most cheerful, patient,
and heroic toilers are those who are most constant in prayer. Only so can we do
our work as it ought to be done, and get from it all the good it is intended to yield.
{B. Wilkinson,) True prayer difficult ; — Christ was careful to use the best out-
ward helps and furtherances to prayer, such as the opportunity of the morning and
the privacy of the place. Whence we may gather, that to pray aright is a diScult
work, and not easy to perform. If it were an easy matter, what need for such
helps f Ohrist, indeed, had no need of such helps for Himself : yet He used them
for our instruction, to show us what need we have of them, and how hard a thing
it is to pray well. 1, We have no ability of ourselves by nature to perform this
duty (Bom. viiL 26). 2. There are many things to hinder us in the duty ; especially
Satan labouring continually to stir up hindrances and disturbances ; also our own
corrupt hearts, which are apt to be taken up at times of prayer with swarms of idle
and wandering thoughts. 3. It is a duty of great exceUenoe and profit, much and
often commended in Scripture : no wonder, therefore, if it be difficult, for so are all
excellent and precious duties. 4. Prayer is a holy conference with God ; and it is
hard to speak to God as we ought. Learn from all this the ignorance of those who
think it so easy a matter to pray. Because they think it easy they go about it
without preparation, without watchfulness over their hearts, and without using
any helps to further them in the duty ; and the consequence is that they pray in a
very slight, perfunctory manner. If they repeat the bare words of the Lord's
Prayer, or some other prayer (though without all understanding and feeling), they
think this is enough. Indeed, this is an easy kind of praying, or rather saying of
a prayer ; for it is not rightly called praying, when only the words of a prayer are
rehearsed. Such as know what it is to pray aright acknowledge it to be a difficult
work. Let ns be more diligent and frequent in the exercise of it, that it may become
more easy to us. {O. Fetter.) Early morning communion with God : — Colonel
Gardiner used constantly to rise at four in the morning, and to spend his time <1U
48 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap, i,
six in the secret exercises of the closet, reading, meditation, and prayer ; in -which last
he acquired such a fervency of spirit as, says his biographer, "I believe few men
living ever attained. This certainly very much contribated to strengthen that firm
faith in God, and reverent, animating sense of His presence, for which He was to
eminently remarkable, and which carried him through the trials and services of life
with such steadiness and with such activity ; for he indeed endured and acted as if
always seeing Him who is invisible. If at any time he was obliged to go out before six
in the morning, he rose proportionally sooner ; so that, when a journey or a march
has required him to be on horseback by four, he would be at his devotions by two."
The pray en of Christ : — Eighteen times our Lord's own prayers are alluded to or
quoted ; but those passages give us only four aspects of His prayers. I. His habit
of prayer. In five passages (Mark i. 35 ; Luke vi. 12, v. 16 ; Matt. xiv. 23 ; Mark
vi. 46) we have our Lord withdrawing for prolonged private prayer; at a time
when involved in the whirl of public work ; before appointing Ilis apostles and
establishing His kingdom. In a sixth passage (Luke xi. 1) this habit so impressed
the disciples that they asked Him to teach them how to pray. II. His thankful-
NESS in prayer. In five more passages, three (Matt. xi. 25 ; John xi. 41 ; Luke x. 21)
quote an ejaculation of gratitude. The others (Luke iii. 21, ix. 28) are on the
occasions of His baptism and transfiguration ; the one initiating Him into His
mission of teaching, the other into His mission of suffering. IH. His intercession
in prayer. 1. For His friends (Luke xxii. 32). 2. For His enemies (Luke xxiii, 34).
3. For Himself and His disciplec as one with Him (John xvii.) IV. His obediencb
in prayer (Matt. xxvi. 39 ; Mark xv. 34 ; Luke xxii. 42 ; John xii. 27). We may
draw from these prayers — 1. An argument in favour of our Lord's divinity. There
is no confession of sin. He prays for, never with. His disciples. 2. We may see
an example for ourselves in (1) His belief in the habit of prayer ; (2) the reverent
limit He assigned to prayer — *♦ Not My|will," &o. ; (3^ His practice of private super-
added to public prayer ; (4) His joyful continuance in prayer. {Prof. A. S. Farrar.)
Prayer: — I. Lonely. II. Pbeparatort. HI. Selp-denyino. IV. Leisurely. V.
Lingering. VI. Blisbtol. (Vr''. H. Jellie.) Secret prayer: — I. That the Saviour,
though perfectly holy, regarded the duty of secret prayer as of great importance.
II. That He sought a solitary place for it — far away from the world, and even His
disciples, m. That it was early in the morning — the first thing after rising —
always the best time, and a time when it should not be omitted. IV. If Jesus
prayed, how much more important is it for us. If He did it in the morning, how
much more important is it for tw, before the world gets possession of our thoughts ;
before Satan fills us with unholy feelings ; when we rise fresh from beds of repose,
and while the world around us is still 1 David thus prayed (Psa. v. 3). He that
wishes to enjoy religion will seek a place of secret prayer in the morning. If that is
omitted all will go wrong — our piety will wither, the world will fill our thoughts,
temptations will be strong, and through the day we shall find it impossible to raise
our feelings to a state of proper devotion. The religious enjoyment through the
day will be according to the state of the heart in the morning ; and can, therefore,
be measured by our faithfulness in early, secret prayer. How different the conduct
of the Saviour from those who spend the precious hours of the morning in
sleep 1 He knew the value of the morning hours, &c. {A. Barnes, D.D.) The
devotions of Christ : — I. The fact op His praying. It is a wonderful fact that one
like Him should pray at all. But it may be explained. 1. He prayed as a Man.
2. He prayed as Mediator. 3. He prayed as an Example. 11. The circumstances
OF His praying. 1. Early. •• His morning smiles bless all the day." 2. Frequent.
8. Long. Much of the heart may be thrown into a short prayer. (Various.)
The prayers of Jesus: — I. The mystery of the prayers of Jesus. If Jesus is God,
how could He pray to God ? How were there any needs in His nature on behalf of
which He could pray ? A partial answer is found in the truth that all prayers do
not spring from a sense of need. The highest form of prayer is conversation with
God — the familiar talk of a child with his Father. Augustine's ♦• Confessions '* is
an example of this. But the only adequate explanation is Christ's humanity ; He
was wholly man. Human nature in Him was a tender thing, and had to fall back
on the strength of prayer. II. His habits of prayer. He went into the solitudes
of nature. There is a solitude of time as well as of ppace. It might be an enriching
discovery to find out the solitudes in our neighbourhood : silent, soothing influence
of nature. Christ prayed in company as well as in secret. III. The occasions on
which Hb prayed. 1. He prayed before taking an important step in life, as when
Ha ohose which men to be with Him. 2. He prayed when His life was specially
OHJLP. X.] ST, MARK, 49
busy ; when He could not find time to eat He found time to pray. We make that
an excuse for not praying. Christ made it a reason for praying. 3. He prayed
before entering temptation. 4. He died praying. IV. The answer to His prayers.
1. The Transfiguration was an answer to prayer — "As He prayed," &o. 2. His
baptism was an answer to prayer. Are you a man of prayer? (eT^. Stalker^ M.A.)
Je$us rising early for secret prayer: — I. How diligent the Saviour was In the
improvement of His time. II. That no crowd of company or calls of business
could divert Jesus from His daily, stated devotions. III. What care our Lord took
to find a place of solitude for His prayers, that He might neither meet with
disturbance, nor seem ostentatious. 1. One reason why we should retire to a secret
place for sohtary prayer is, that we may avoid the appearance of ostentation. 2.
That we may be undisturbed. 8. That our minds may enjoy greater freedom in
communion with God. {J, Lathrop, D.D.) Jesus in prayer: — I. As simple
INTEBCOUBSE WITH GoD. II. View it in relation to His work. So do we need
constant prayer in the midst of our work. 1. For calm and holy review. 2. For
direction — asking wisdom of God, just as a mariner consults his compass. 3. For
qualifications — mental, moral, and even physical. 4. For success. God giveth the
increase. 6. For freedom from perverting influences. Our motives are apt to get
entangled and our aims confused. In prosperity we are in danger of waxing
egotistic, vain, and proud. See it in many a successful business man, and in many
B popular minister. In adversity we are tempted to despond. {The Congregational
Pulpit.) Secret devotion : — I. To explain an exercise of secret devotion. It
is little we know of the private life of Christ. In silence there is much instruction.
He was often in private retirement (Luke vi. 12 ; Luke xxi. 37 ; Luke xxii. 39 ;
John vi. 15). 1. The occasion on which our Lord betakes Himself to this exercise
of secret devotion. You observe the connection — after a day of laborious occupa-
tion in the public exercises of religion, He sought an opportunity for secret
devotion : the one no excuse for the neglect of the other. In the public exercises
of religion we most need the private exercises of devotion. There are reasons for
this. It is in private that the impressions of the public ordinances must be
maintained on the mind. It prevents relapse. Besides, this is a time of peculiar
temptation. If a Christian in his public exercises had attained to high enjoyment,
every stratagem will be used by Satan to rob him of his treasure. Besides, it ii
necessary to follow our public services with secret exercises, that we may bring the
former to the test. In public we are apt to be excited, but feelings that are excited
may be deceitful ; and every wise man will test these feelings in the presence of God
alone. 2. The next circumstance in this exercise that attracts our attention is the
time that our Lord was pleased to choose for it — " In the morning." His self-
denial. The morning is favourable to devotion, our minds are not yet disturbed by
the cares of the day. What anxiety to give God the best of His services. 3. The
place He sought for it. The works of the Divine hand are aids to devotion. 4.
The exercise itself — " He prayed." Christ as man needed to pray. We can
conceive of Adam in innocence praying ; but our Lord needed prayer, as being the
subject of sinless inflrmity ; but above all as Mediator. Suggest a few aids to
secret devotion — (1) Self-examination ; (2) meditation ; (3) a determination of
future obedience. Christ came out of His solitude with pu^oses to do the will of
His heavenly Father. II. I am to enforce the duty of secret devotion by a
CONSIDERATION OF ITS BENEFITS. 1. It has a tendency to produce godliness.
Because it brings us into contact with God. It produces simplicity, and godly
sincerity, and gentleness. 2. Secret devotion is most favourable to the comfort of
the mind. Devotion soothes the mind ; it elevates the mind. It imparts joy in
religion. 3. Secret devotion is most favourable to usefulness. The secret of
usefulness among men is a spirit of piety toward God. {J. Morgan.) Secret
prayer aids social usefulness : — In the very manner in which he speaks to every one
he meets, in the very way he discharges every duty to which he is called, his spirit
is as it ought to be, and therefore the man is walking up and down in society,
scattering blessings "on the right hand and on the left." On the other hand,
suppose him to have neglected the exercises of secret devotion, he comes out into
society with a ruffled temper, with a dissatisfied spirit, finding fault with every
body, with every thing, dissatisfied with all, because dissatisfied with himself,
neglecting opportunities, doing nothing as it ought to be done, losing the oppor-
tunity that God in His providence gives him. Again, look at the spirit in which
such a man conducts himself towards others. The spirit of the man of God is a
spirit of humility. Think of the language of the 126th Psahn, ** He that goetb
4
60 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. i.
forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing,
bringing his sheaves with him " — the man that goes forth in genuine humility and
true modesty, and attempts his work, not in the spirit of intrusion or interference,
but simply in the strength of God, is the man who in the end will be successful. It
is not only the spirit which he cherishes towards man, but that which he cherishes
towards God, that insures success. Towards man, his spirit is modest and humble,
towards God it is the spirit of dependence. And then you observe in him great
steadfastness. He has been with God in the morning in the exercise of secret
devotion, and therefore though he may meet with difficulty during the day, he is
not to be stumbled by it ; it may retard him, it may distress him, but he knows too
well what he was to expect, to be overcome; he acts on that principle assured of its
justice, *' therefore be ye steadfast, unmoveable, always abounding in the work of
the Lord, forasmuch as you know that your labour is not in vain in the Lord. *
{Ibid.) Early risers : — Dr. Doddridge tells us that to his habit of early rising
the world is indebted for nearly the whole of his valuable works. The well-known
Bishop Burnett was an habitual early riser, for when at college his father aroused
him to his studies every morning at four o'clock ; and he continued the practice
during the remainder of his life. Sir Thomas More also made it his invariable
practice to rise always at four, and if we turn our attention to royalty, we have,
among others, the example of Peter the Great, who, whether at work in the docks
at London as a ship carpenter, or at the anvil as a blacksmith, or on the throne of
Eussia, always rose before daylight. Finding a place to pray : — Dr. Milne,
afterwards the famous missionary in China, when a youth, after leaving home, was
situated in an ungodly family. So he used to retire to a sheepcot, where the sheep
were kept in winter, and there, surrounded by the sheep, he knelt on a piece of turf
which he kept and carried with him for the purpose, spending many an hour there,
even in the cold of winter, in sweet communion with his God. (ATwn.) Rising
early : — ^It is a little difficult, especially when the mornings are dark and cold, to
get up sufficiently early to have profitable communion with God. Ask God for
getting-np grace. A friend told us a few days since that she traced much failure in
her religious life to late rising, but God had given her victory over the old habit of
lying in bed until the last minute. If Jesus Christ found it necessary to rise " a
great while before day," and depart " into a solitary place " to pray, we have need
to be with God before the work of the day begins. Ward Beecher says : " Let the
day have a blessed baptism by giving your first waking thoughts to God. The first
hour of the morning is the rudder of the day." Private devotion: — I. That
private prayer SHouiiD bb enjoyes im the eably uobnino. 1. Because it insures
time for the performance of prayer. 2. Because it is the time when the soul is
most free from care and anxiety. 3. Because the world is silent — favourable to
the voice of prayer. 4. Because it is favourable to unostentation. 6. Because it
is a good husbanding of time. II. That private prayer should be pebformed by the
BUSIEST LITE. 1. The neglect of private devotion by a busy life is injudicious. 2.
The neglect of private devotion by a busy life is inexcusable. III. I^vate prayer
■BonZiD NOT BB INTERRUPTED BY POPULARITY. IV. Private prayer will aid and
INSPIRE IN THE CONTINUED MINISTRY OF LIFE. ** And He said uuto them. Let as go
unto the next towns, that I may preach there also " (ver. 38). 1. Thus private
prayer stimulates to continued activity in life. 2. Private prayer enables a man
to awaken the moral activity of others. V. Private prayer leads to a high appbb-
oiATioN or THE TRUE MISSION OF LIFE. Lcssous : 1. That early morning is a good
time for prayer. 2. That solitude is favourable to devotion. 3. That the best men
need private prayer. 4. That the most busy men have no excuse for the neglect of
private devotion. 6. That secret prayer is the strength of all moral life and
activity. {J, S, Exell, M.A.) Early morning prayer : — The most orient pearls
are generated of the morning dew. Abraham and Job both rose early to offer
sacrifice. The Persian magi sang hymns to their gods at break of day, and
worshipped the rising sun. (Trapp.) The early morning a friend to the graces : —
It has been eaid, The morning is • friend to the muses, and it is no less so to the
graoea. (M. Henry,)
Vers. 86-39. And wben they had found Him. — The desire of humanity for
Christ : — While rejoicing in Divine solitude, the loneliness in which He leit the
suffering, toiling people was indescribably painful to them. A man born blind does
not realize his deprivation, but if there is given him a brief vision of daylight how
■nntterable his sense of loss when it fades away again. So these people felt them<
CHAP, u] ST. MARK. $1
3elve8 deprived of the fresh interest and hopes with which they had been inspired
when they lost the society and communion of Jesus. But the question was asked by
all lips : *' Where is He ? " And most true is it to-day — be man's opinions what they
may — there is no more universal experience of human kind, whether gentle or simple,
scientific or ignorant, barbarian or bond or free, than the hunger for that fulness
of life which is in Christ Jesus. {J. A. Picton, M.A.) An unconscious prophecy : —
What the disciples said in their wondering delight, shall one day be literally true —
all men will be in search of the Saviour of the world. In the first instance the
Saviour sought all men, and in the second all men will seek the Saviour. " We
love £Qm because He first loved us." (J. Parker^ D.D.) Christ the centre of
union for all men : — •• All men seek for Thee." Yes, they are tired of their sectarian
wranglings ; they are wearied out with their ineffectual metaphysical analysis; they
are sick of the poor results yielded up by material research ; they have lost confi-
dence in their own self-will ; they prize no longer their self-conceit ; they long to
be brothers in the embrace of one common Father, and none can bring them to-
gether but Christ. "All men seek for thee." Even so, come. Lord Jesus. {J. A. Picton,
M.A.) The reason for ChrisVs apparently unreasonable departures : —Re had
spoken to the people because He desired them to know ; and again, He will retire
from them, and have His heart set on their well-being as He retires. When you
and I have heard the sermon, what remains for us to do ? Is it to hear more, or
to think about what we have heard ? You can learn by hearing, but yoa can be
confused by hearing too much ; one sermon may obliterate the effect of the other.
So Christ left the people to whom He had been so acceptable, that in the quietude
of their homes they might thhik of that which they had both heard and seen.
{J. Ogmore Dairies.) Christian evangelization : — I. That this Christian evange-
lization was preceded by private devotion. II. That this Christian evangelization
was accompanied by an earnest preaching of the truth. III. That this Christian
evangelization made use of the already existing agencies of the Church. IV. That
this Christian evangelization was just in its conception of work, in that it cast the
devil ont of men. Lessons : 1. That evangelistic work requires and is worthy
of the best talent that can be obtained. 2. That evangelistic work is ennobling to
those who engage in it, as well as to those who are contemplated by it. 3. That
evangelistic work has done much to cast the devil out of the masses of our large
towns. {J. S. Exell, M.A.) Christ, a home missionary : — ^From these words I
commend to your notice — I. The besemblance between youb own laboubs, and
THE PEBSONAL MINI8TBT OP TOUB LOBD AND SaVIOUB, AS PEBFOBMBD IN THE FIELD OW
Home Missions. 1. In the scene of your labours. The title of missionary denotes
one sent forth, and especially belongs to one whose errand is to propagate religion.
Christ was sent from God — " The great Apostle of our profession " (Heb. iii. 1).
To bring the glad message to our earth from the far heavens, He emptied Himself
of glory, Ac. It was to an alien race that He ministered. His personal ministry
was far more limited and national in its character than was His message. What-
ever His intent, in narrowing the field of His toils as a preacher, the fact is evident
that to the land of Canaan, or the bounds of His native country. His ministerial
labours were confined, and Jesus Christ, while upon earth, was a Home Missionary.
IJow a work which occupied the greatest of preachers can never be unimportant,
SiO. 2. In the commission under which He acted, the message He bore, the
manner in which He published it, and the mode in which His labours were sus-
tained. II. The CONSEQUENT DUTT OF THE ChUBCH TO CONTINUE AND ABOUND IN THE
LIKE GOOD woBK. Whether we look to the advantages which our nation presents
for such labour, or to its peculiar necessities ; to our duty as Christians, or our
interests as men loving their country ; to the general obligations of the Church, or
our own personal and special privileges and responsibilities — on every hand are
teeming incitements to energy and liberality, to perseverance and courageous de-
votedness. {W. E. Williamson, D.D.)
Vers. 40-45. And there came a leper to Him, beseeching Eim.— The cured leper
still rebellicms :—l. Hie disease. II. His application. 1. We have here an intel-
ligent appreciation of Christ as the Healer. 2. We have an instance of genuine
earnestness. 3. We see here the marks of true humility. 4. A sample of prayer
for a special gift. 6. But here is illustrated a very unworthy conception of Christ's
love. III. His CUBE—** Jesus spake and it was done." 1. His method bears proof
of Divinity — " I will, be thou clean." 2. The cure was instantaneous. 3. It was
complete. 4. The cure must have been welcome. IV. His obligation. 1. That
5S THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap. &
obligation covered the whole area of his life. 2. The healer always becomes the
sovereign. He who commanded the disease, commanded the patient also. 3. The
requirement of Clirist was founded in solid reason. 4. The obligation involved
public acknowledgment and substantial gift. V. His contumacy. 1. Complete
redemption is not obtained until the will is subdued. 2. This man's contumacy
was thoughtless. 3. This contumacy was fraught with disastrous effects. (D. Davies^
M.A.) The approach of a needy life to Christ:— I. The deep kekd of this
man's lite — "And there came a leper unto Him." 1. It was a need that tilled
the life of this man with intense misery. 2. It was a need from which no human
remedy could give relief. 3. It was a need that brought him into immediate con-
tact with Christ. II. The manner in which this needy life approached the
Saviour. 1. His appeal to Christ was characterized by a truthful apprehension of
his need. 2. His appeal to Christ was characterized by an acknowledgment of
the Divine sovereignty. 3. His appeal to Christ was characterized by great earnest-
ness. 4, His appeal to Christ was characterized by deep humility. 5. His appeal
to Christ was characterized by simple faith. III. The response which thb
appeal or THIS NEEDY LIFE AWAKENED IN THE BENEFICENT HEART OF ChRIST. 1. It
awakened tender compassion. 2. It received the touch of Divine power. 3. It
attained a welcome and effective cure. Lessons : 1. That it is well for a needy life
to approach Christ. 2. Chat a needy life should approach Christ with humility
and faith. 3. The marvellous way in which .Christ can supply the need of man.
(.7. S. Exell, M.A.) Christ's touch: — I. Whatever Diviner and sacreder aspect
there may be in these incidents, the first thing, and, in some senses, the most pre-
cious thing in them is that they are the natural expression of a truly human
TENDERNESS AND COMPASSION. It is the love of Christ Himself — spontaneous,
instinctive — without the thought of anything but the suffering it sees — which
gushes out and leads Him to put forth His hand to the outcast beggars and lepers.
True pity instinctively leads us to seek to come near those who are its objects.
Christ's pity is shown by His touch to have this true characteristic of true pity,
that it overcomes disgust ; He is not turned away by the shining whiteness of the
leprosy. Christ loves us, and will not be turned from His compassion by our most
loathsome foulness. II. We may regard the touch as the medium of His miracu-
lous POWER. There is a royal variety in the method of our Lord's miracles ; some
are wrought at a distance, some by a word or touch. The true cause in every case
is His own bare will. But this use of Christ's touch, as apparent means for con-
veying His miraculous power, illustrates a principle which is exemplified in all His
revelation, namely, the employment, in condescension to men's weakness, of out-
ward means as the apparent vehicles of His spiritual power. ^ Sacraments, out-
ward ceremonies, forms of worship, are vehicles which the Divine Spirit uses in
order to bring His gifts to the hearts and the minds of men. They are like the
touch of Christ which heals, not by any virtue in itself, apart from His will which
chooses to make it the apparent medium of healing. All these externals are
nothing, as the pipes of an organ are nothing, until His breath is breathed through
them, and then the flood of sweet sound pours out. Do not despise the material
vehicles and the outward helps which Christ uses for the communication of His
healing and His life, but remember that the help that is done upon earth, He does it
all Himself. lU. Consider Christ's touch as a shadow and symbol of the very heabt
OF His work. Christ's touch was a Priest's touch. He lays His hand on corrup-
tion and is not tainted. It becomes purity. This was His work in the world —
laying hold of the outcast — His sympathy leading to His identification of Himself
with us in our misery. That sympathetic hfe-long touch is put forth once for aD
in His incarnation and death. Let our touch answer to His ; let the hand of faith
grasp Him. IV. We may look upon these incidents as being a pattern for us.
We must be content to take lepers by the hand, to let the outcast feel the warmth
of our loving grasp if we would draw them into the Father's house. (A. McLaren^
D.D.) Christ touches corruption without taint : — Just as He touches the leper
and is unpolluted, or the fever patient and receives no contagion, or the dead and
draws no chill of mortality into His warm hand, so He becomes like His brethren
in all things, yet without sin. Being found in the likeness of sinful flesh. He knows
no sin, but wears His manhood unpolluted, and dwells among men blameless and
harmless, the Son of God, without rebuke. Like a sunbeam passing through foul
water untarnished and unstained ; or like some sweet spring rising in the midst of
♦he salt sea, which yet retains its freshness and pours it over the surrounding
l»i*t'w»iaaa, go Christ takes upon Himself our nature and lays hold of our stained
OHAV. X.J ST. MARK,
hands with the hand that oontinues pure while it grasps ns, and will make na
purer if we grasp it. (Ibid.) Tlie cleansing of the leper : — I. Let us put together
the FACTS of the case. II. The principal lessons suggested by this narrative.
1. Here is an illustration of the good effects of speaking about religious truth in
connection with Christ. The fame of Christ was spread abroad throughout Syria,
and found its way to the leper. 2. That doubts are no reason why we should not go
to Christ — *• Lord, if thou wilt," <fec. 3. That no possible circumstances ought to
prevent our going to Christ for salvation. 4. Christ's love and willingness to save
is the great idea of the gospel. {W. G. Barrett.) Cleansed by Christ : — A nun in
an Italian convent once dreamed that an angel opened her spiritual eyes, and she
saw all men as they were. They seemed so full of uncleanness that she shrank
back from them in horror. But just then Jesus Christ appeared among them with
bleeding wounds, and the nun saw that whoever pressed forward and touched the
blood of Jesus, at once became white as snow. It is so in every-day Ufe. It was
Jesus who cleansed that reformed drunkard from the stain of his sin. Years ago he
was poor and ragged and unclean. To-day he is clean and healthy and well
dressed ; the grace of Christ has been manifested in the cleansing of the outer as
well as of the inner man. {Sunday School Times.) Cleansing of the leper : — I. Thb
PITIABLE OBJECT THAT IS HERE PRESENTED. The malady was ouc of the most dis-
tressing that ever seized a human being. It was usually regarded as produced by
the immediate agency of the Most High. The rules prescribed for its treatment
were very minute and stringent. Among the many immunities with which we are
favoured in this happy land, may be reckoned the entire absence of leprosy. But if
bodily leprosy is unknown among us, spiritual leprosy is not. 1. It was hereditary.
2. A representation of sin in the consequences with which it was attended.
U. The APPLICATION which he biade. 1. It was earnest. 2. It was humble.
3. It expressed great confidence in the Saviour's ability. 4. It indicated some
doubt of His willingness to exert the power He possessed. III. The response he
MET with. 1. The emotion which the Saviour felt — ••Moved with compassion."
2. The act He performed — " Put forth His hand, and touched him." 3. The words
He uttered — " I will ; be thou clean." 4. The effect produced — " The leprosy
departed from him." lY. The directions he received. 1. These instructions
were necessary. The law enjoined that the priest should pronounce the leper
clean before he could enjoy the privileges — whether social, civil, or religious — of
which he had been deprived. 2. However needful these instructions may have
been, the restored leper, in the fulness of his joy and gratitude, was unable to
comply with them. See the ability of Christ to save. A personal application to
Him is necessary. (Expository Outlines.) ChrisVs relation to human suffering : —
Christ presented to us in three aspects. I. As a worker — " He stretched forth His
hand and touched him." This act was — 1. Natural. The means employed were
in harmony with His nature as a human being. Christ felt His oneness with the
race. 3. Profound. A common thing apparently, yet who can tell what power was
in that " touch." Doubtless there was the communication of a power invisible to
human eyes. 3. Beneficent. Here we have the cure of an incurable. 4. Prompt.
The earnest appeal obtained an immediate response. This was characteristic of
Christ. n. As A speaker— " And saith," &c. This shows— 1. His Divine
authority — ** I will." Such a fiat could have come only from the lips of a Divine
person — '• Never man spake," &o., " With authority He commandeth," &c. (ver. 28).
2. His consciousness of power. Christ fully knew what power He possessed. Not
so with man ; consequently how much latent energy lies dormant in the Church of
Christ. 3. His possession of power — " Be thou made clean." At the unfaltering
tones of Christ's voice all diseases fled. IH. As a healer — '* And straightway the
leprosy departed," &c. This healing was — 1. Instantaneous. 2. Perfect. {A. Q
Churchill.) The Saviour and the leper : — No one afiflicted with this loathsome dis
ease was allowed to enter the gates of any city. In this case, however, the man's
misery and earnestness led him to make a dangerous experiment. Persuaded of the
Lord's power to heal; longing to put it to the test ; almost sure cf His willingness ; he
will rush into the city, and ere ever the angry people have had time to recover from
their astonishment at his boldness, he hopes to find himself cured and whole at the
feet of Jesus. There was both daring and doubting in his action. The man's
earnestness is seen further in his manner. 1. He knelt before the Lord, and next
fell on his face — his attitude giving emphasis to his words. 2. He besought Jesus
— in fear, in doubt, in secret dread lest the Lord should see some reason for with-
holding the boon he craved, but yet in faith. And his faith was great. He did not,
64 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap. %
like Martha, consider Christ's power as needing to be sought from God ; he believed
it to be lodged already in Christ's person ; and he also believed His power to be
great enough to reach even his case, although as yet no leper had received healing
from Christ. 3. His faith was be warded. Jesus touched him — no pollution passing
from the leper to Him, but healing going from Him to the leper. 4. Instantly the
leprosy departed. Nothing is a barrier to the Lord's will and power. {Andrew A.
Bonar.) Leprosy : — ^As to this disease observe : heat, dryness, and dust, predis-
pose to diseases of the skin everywhere, and all these causes are especially operative
in Syria. Insufficient food assists their action ; and boils and sores are apt to
fester and poison the system. Leprosy is a disease found over a large tract of the
world's surface ; it is found all round the shores of the Mediterranean, from Syria
to Spain, in a virulent form, and in North and South Africa. It was carried to
various countries in Europe by those who returned from the crusades, and became
prevalent even in England, in the times when our forefathers had no butcher meat
in winter but what was salted, and little vegetable diet with it. In a form less
virulent than in Palestine, it exists in Norway, where the government supports
several hospitals for lepers, and seeks to prevent the spread of the disease by re-
quiring all afflicted with it to live — unmarried — in one or other of these. Probably,
salt fish in Norway forms the too exclusive food of the poor, as it also probably did
in Palestine in the time of Christ. Mrs. Brassey found it in the islands of the
Pacific. It is so common in India that when Lord Lawrence took formal possessiou
of Oude, he made the people promise not to burn their widows nor slay their chil-
dren (the girls), nor bury alive their lepers. It was a loathsome disease, eating
away the joints, enfeebling the strength, producing diseases of the lungs, almost
always fatal, though taking years to kill. It was the one disease which the Mosaic
law treated as unclean ; perhaps, as being the chief disease, God wished to indicate
that all outward misery had originally its root in sin. He that was afflicted with
it had to live apart from his fellows, and to cry out " unclean *' when any came
near him ; often, therefore, could do no work, but had to live on charity. He was not
permitted to enter a synagogue unless a part were specially railed off for him, and
then he must be the first to enter and the last to quit the place. It was as fatal as
consumption is with us ; much more painful ; loathsome as well, infecting the
spirits with melancholy, and cutting the sufferer off from tender sympathies and
ministries when he most needed them. (JR. Glover.) The leper's prayer: — This
prayer is very remarkable. For observe — I. The cask would seem absolutely
HOPELESS. Many could feel that for a Lordly spirit like Christ's to have control
over evil spirits was natural, but would have held the cure of a leper an impossi-
bility ; for the disease, being one of the blood, infected the whole system ! If
onlookers might so think, how much more the leper himself 1 Every organ of his
body infected deeply, how wonderful that he could have any hope. But he believes
this great miracle a possibility. Yet note — II. His prayeb is wonderfully calm.
In deepest earnest he kneels. But there is no wildness nor excitement. Mark
also — in. How A GREAT LAW OF COMPENSATION BUNS THROUGH OUB LIVES, and SOme-
how those most grievously afflicted are often those most helped to pray and trust. I
once saw a leper at Genadenthal in South Africa — an old woman. •♦ Tell him," said
she to the doctor, who took me to see her, *' I am very thankful for my disease ; it
is the way the Lord took to bring me to Himself." This man had had the same
sort of compensation, and while the outward man was perishing the inward man
was being renewed day by day. Copy his prayer, and ask for mercies though they
seem to be sheer impossibilities. (Ibid.) " Can " and " will " ; — It is an old
answer, that from can to will, no argument followeth. The leper did not say unto
Christ, "If Thou canst, Thou wilt;" but, "If Thou wilt, Thou canst." (H.
Smith.) I. The cure of our souls is the pure effect of the goodness and free mercy
of God. n. Jesus Christ performs it by a sovereign authority. III. His sacred
hnmanitv is the instrument of the Divine operation in our hearts. IV. It is by His
will that'His merits are applied to us. Fear, for He does not put forth His healing
hand and touch all ; hope, for He very frequently puts it forth, and touches the
most miserable. (Quesnel.) The world's treatment of lepers, and Christ's : —
You remember the story of the leper which the poet Swinburne has woven into one
of his most beautiful, most painfully realistic, poems. He tells about a lady at the
French Coxirt in the Middle Ages, who was stricken with leprosy. She had been
courted, flattered, idolized, and almost worshipped for her wit and beauty by th«
king, princes, and all the royal train, until she was smitten with leprosy. Then
ber very lovers hunted her forth as a banned and Ood-forsaken thing ; ev^ry doot
CHAP. I.] ST. MARK,
in the great city of Paris was slammed in her face ; no one would give her a drop
of water or piece of bread ; the very children spat in her face, and fled from her aa
a pestilential thing, until a poor clerk, who had loved the great lady a long way oflf,
and had never spoken to her until then, took her to his house for pity's sake, and
nursed her until she died, and he was cast out and cursed himself by all the reli-
gious world for doing it. That was what the leper had become in the Middle Ages,
and something like that he was among the Jews of our Saviour's time, hated by
men because believed to be hated by God, carrying in his flesh and skin the very
marks of God's anger, contempt, and scorn, the foulest thing on God's fair earth,
whose presence meant defilement, and whom to touch was sin. That was the thing
that lay at Christ's feet, and on which that pure, gentle hand was laid. He
stretched forth His hand and touched him, and said, '• I will, be thou clean ; " and
straightway his leprosy was cleansed. {J. O. Greenhough, 31. A.) Christ's
taving touch : — I. The wonderful way in which Christ kindled hope in these
DESPERATE WRETCHES. He helped men to believe in themselves as well as in Him-
self. We cannot see how it was done. Nothing had been said or done to give thi^
confidence in his recoverability, yet he has it. You can show a man in a score of
ways, without telling him in so many words, that you do not despair of him. A
glance of the eye is enough for that. The first step in saving the lost is to persuade
them that they are not God-abandoned. II. Christ's touch. Christ saved men
by touching them. He was always touching men, their hands, eyes, ears, lips.
He did not send His salvation ; Ho brought it. Gifts demoralize men unless we
give part of ourselves with them. {Ibid.) The use of personal contact : — Our
gifts only demoralize men unless we give part of ourselves along with them. Even adog
is demoralized if you always throw bones to it instead of giving them out of your
hand. You breathe a bit ot humanity into the dog by letting it lick your hand, and
it would almost rather do that than eat your bone. What have we done to save men
when we have sent them our charities ? Almost nothing. We have filled their
stomachs, indeed, and lightened their material wants, but have sent their souls still
empty away. (Ibid.) The cleansing of the leper : — There are in this case ele-
ments which ought to be found in any man who is suffering from soul disease and
defilement. I. A painful consciousness of his true position. He looked at his
leprosy ; felt its pain ; knew its disabling uncleanness. The sinner sees his sin as a
disgrace, a danger, and a disgust. II. A proper sense of his present opportu-
nity. Great Healer was approaching ; Lord of love and pity was here ; representa-
tive of heaven passed by. He was drawn to Jesus ; prostrate before Jesus ; urgent
upon Jesus. A present decision ; a present acceptance ; a present salvation. III.
A plain acknowledgment of the Lord's power. "Thou canst ; " I can't ; others
can't; but Thou canst, I know it, because Thou hast cleansed others; hast power
to cleanse ; hast come forth to cleanse. IV. A prhssino urgency concerning the
Lord's pleasure. •• If Thou wilt." Perhaps I am too vile. It may be my sorrow
may plead. In any case I will take my refusal only from Thee. Observe — 1. The
leper makes no prayer. Readiness to receive is in itself a prayer. Uttered prayer
may be no deeper than the mouth ; unuttered prayer may be evidence of the opened
heart. 2. The leper raises no difiicalty. He comes — worships — confesses his
faith — puts himself in the Lord's hands. 3. The leper has no hesitation as to what
he needs — " Make me clean." As to whom he trasts — '• Thou canst." As to how
he comes — " A leper." Misery in the presence of mercy — humility pleading with
grace — faith appealing to faithfulness — helplessness worshipping at the feet of
power. Such is a leper before the Lord. Such is a sinner before the Saviour. Suoh
should we be to this day of grace. {J. Richardson, BI.A.) The method of tviritnal
salvation illustrated : — I. The leper put himself unreservedly in the hands of the
Healer. II. Christ instantly gave practical expression to His own deep pity.
III. The completeness of Christ's cure. («7. Parker, D.D.) Leprosy a sijmhnl
of sin : — T. From a small beginning it spreads over the entire man. it. Its
CURE is beyond THE REACH OF HUMAN SKILL OR NATURAL REMEDIES. HI. It IS
PAINFUL, LOATHSOME, DEGRADING, AND FATAL. IV. It SEPARATES ITS VICTIM FROM
THE PURE AND DRIVES HIM INTO ASSOCIATION WITH THE IMPURE. V. It IS A
FOE TO RELIGIOUS PRIVILEGES. IV. It CAN BE REMEDIED BY THE INTERPOSITION OP
God. (Anon.) Christ's pity shown more in deeds than in words : — 1 doubt whether
Christ ever said anything about the Divine compassion more pathetic or more per-
fectly beautiful than had been said by the writer of the 103rd Psalm. It is not in
the words of Christ that we find a fuller and deeper revelation of the Divine com-
passion, but in His deeds. *' And Jesus, moved with compassion, put forth His hand
66 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [cha». \
and touched him," touched the man from whom his very kindred had shrunk.
It was the first time that the leper had felt the warmth and pressure of a human
hand since his loathsome disease came upon him. And "Kaid, " I will, be thou clean."
{R. W. Daley LL.D.) The leper cleansed: — I. Sorrow turns instinctively to the
supernatural. II. Christ is never deaf to sorrow's cry. III. Christ is superior
aliie to material contamination and legal restriction. {Dr. Parker.) Christ* s mission
a protest against death : — Every healed man was Christ's living protest against death.
The mere fact of the miracle was but a syllable in Christ's magnificent doctrine of
life. Christ's mission may be summed up in the word — Life ; the devil's, in the
word — Death ; so that every recovered limb, every opened eye, every purified leper,
was a confirmation of His statement, " I have come that they might have life. " {Ihid, >
The cleansing of tlie leper: — I. A melancholy picture to be studied. II. An
excellent example to be copied. 1. He made his application in the proper quarter.
He " came to Jesus." 2. He made his application in the right way, 3. He made
his application in the proper spirit, " kneeling." III. A sweet encouragement to be
taken. IV. A necessary duty to be performed. Silence and the olfering of
sacrifice. Gratitude ; penitence ; consecration. V. An uncommon mistake to be
avoided. *' He began to blaze abroad the matter." {T. WhitelaiOf M.A.) Reason*
for silence respecting Christ's miracles: — Our Lord did not mean that the man
should keep it only to himself, and that he should not at all make it known to any ;
for He knew that it was fit His miracles should be known, that by them His Divine
power and the truth of His doctrine might be manifested to the world ; and there,
fore we read that at another time He was willing a miracle of His should be made
known (Mark v. 19). But Christ's purpose here is to restrain him— I. Froia
publishing this miracle rashly or unadvisedly, and in an indiscreet manner. II.
From revealing it to such persons as were likely to cavil or take exceptions at it.
ni. From publishing it at that time, which was unfit and anseasonable^(l) Be-
cause Christ was yet in the state of His abasement, and was so to continue till the
time of His resurrection, and His Divine glory was to be manifested by degree*
till then, and not all at once ; (2) Because the people were too much addicted to
the miracles of Christ, without due regard to His teaching. (G. Fetter.) With
the charge to tell it to the priest the Saviour gave the charge to tell it to no one
else. L Christ did not want a crowd of wonder-seekers to clamour for a sign, but
penitents to listen to the tidings of salvation. II. The man would be spiritually
the better of thinking calmly and silently over His wondrous mercy, until at aU
events he had been to the Temple in Jerusalem and back. Do not tattle about
your religious experience ; nor, if you are a beginner, speak so much about Qod's
mercy to you that you have not time to study it and learn its lesson. This man,
had he but gone into some retired spot and mastered the meaning of His mercy»
might have become an apostle. As it is, he becomes a sort of showman of himself.
(R, Glover,) Unostentatious philanthropy : — I, This unostentatious philan-
THBOPT was consequent upon a REAIi CUBE. II. WaS ANIMATED BT ▲ TBUE SPIRIT.
Some people enjoin silence in reference to their philanthropy — 1. When they do
not mean it. Mock humihty. 2. Lest they should have too many applicants for
it. Selfishness or limited generosity. 3. Others in order that they may modestly
and wisely do good. So with our Lord. Much philanthropy marred by its talk-
ativeness. III. Was not attended with success. Hence we learn — 1. That
the most modest philanthropy is not always shielded from public observation. 2.
That there are men who will violate the most stringent commands and the deepest
obligations. Lessons : 1. To do good when we have the opportunity. 2. Modestly
and wisely. 3. Content with the smile of God rather than the approval of
men. (J. S. Exell^ M.A,) The judiciotu reserve which should characterize the
speech of the newly converted: — Observe: I. That a wise reserve should bb
EXERCISED BY THE NEWLY CONVERTED IN REFERENCE TO THE INNER BXPERIENCBS
OF THE SOUL. Bccausc nnwise talk is likely — 1. To injure the initial culture of
the soul. 2. To awaken the scepticism of the worldly. 3. To be regarded hm
boastful. 4. To impede the welfare of Divine truth. II. That this wise reservk
MUST NOT interfere WITH THE IMPERATIVE OBLIGATIONS OF THE SANCTUARY. 1.
To recognize its ordinances. 2. To perform its duties. 3. To manifest in its
offerings a grateful and adoring reception of beneficent ministry. With this no
reserve of temperament or words must be allowed to interfere. III. That this wish
RESERVE IS SOMETIMES VIOLATED IN A MOST FLAGRANT MANNEB. HoW many yOUUg
converts act as the cleansed leper. We must be careful to speak at the right
time, in the right maimer, under the right oiroum stances. 'Ibid.) Shew thy'
. I.] ST, MARK, 67
telf to the priest : — The reasons for the command are not far to seek. 1. The
offering of the gift was an act of obedience to the law (Levit. xiv. 10, 21» 22),
and was therefore the right thing for the man to do. In this way also our Lord
showed that He had not come, as far as His immediate work was concerned, to
destroy even the ceremonial law, but to fulfil. 2. It was the appointed test of the
reality and completeness of the cleansing work. 8. It was better for the man's own
spiritual life to oherieh his gratitude than to waste it in many words. (Dean
Plumptre,)
Ver. 45. And they came to Him from every qaarter. — Gathering to the centre : —
I. Of the open or professional coming to Christ. The gospel when it is preached
draws many to itself who are not saved by it. Many come to Christ from the
lowest motives ; to receive benefits ; some out of transient enthusiasm. Out of the
best haul a fisherman ever makes, there is something to throw away. H. Of the
first real spiritual coming to Christ by faith. Let us try to help those who are
coming to Christ. All who come to Christ from every quarter never one was dis-
appointed with Him yet. III. The daily coming of saved souls to Jesus. They
come from every quarter as to mental pursuits ; from all points of theological
thought ; from every quarter of spiritual experience. IV. That great gathebino
WHICH IS APPROACHING NEARER EVERY MOMENT. SalntS COmO tO JcSUS in glory
from every quarter. (C. U. Spurgeon.) Coming to Christ by various roads : —
Seeking rest and health last week, I seated myself for a little while near a very
rustic church which stands embowered in a wood, and as I sat there I moralized
upon the various paths which led up to the church porch. Each trackway through the
grass came from a different quarter, but they all led to one point. As I stood there
this reflection crossed me : even thus men come to Christ from all quarters of the
compass, but if indeed saved, they all come to Him. There is a path yonder which
rifjes from a little valley. The little church stands on the hill side, there is a brook
at the bottom, and worshippers who come from the public road must cross the
rustic bridge and then ascend the hill. Such comers rise at every step they take.
Full many burdened ones come to Christ from the deep places of self-abasement ;
they know their sinfulness and feel it ; their self-consciousness has almost driven
them to despair ; they are down very low, and every step they take to Christ is a
step upwards. They have a little hope as they look to Him, and then a little
more, till it comes to a humble trust ; then from a feeble, trembling trust it rises
to a simple faith, and so they advance till when they stand near to Jesus they even
reach to the full assurance of faith. Thus from soul distress and self -despair they
come to the Lord Jesus, and He receives them graciously. Through the church-
yard there was another path, and it ran up-hill from where I stood, and therefore
every one who came that way descended to the church door. These may represent
the people who think much of themselves ; they have been brought up in morality
and lived in respectability in the town of Legality ; they have never turned aside to
the grosser vices, but are among the models of behaviour. Every step these good
people take towards Christ is downward ; they think less of themselves and still
less ; regret leads to repentance, repentance to bitter grief, and grief leads to self
abhorrence, till they come down to the level where Jesus meets with sinners, by
owning that they are nothing, and that Christ is all. The two paths which I have
mentioned were supplemented by a third, which led through a thick and tangled
wood : a narrow way wound between the oak trees and the dense underwood, and
I noticed that it led over a boggy place, through which stepping stones had been
carefuUy placed for the traveller, that he might not sink in the mire. Many a
seeker has found his way to Jesus by a similar path. Dark with ignorance, and
briary with evil questionings, the path winds and twists about, and leads through
the Slough of Despond, wherein a man had need pick his steps very carefully, or he
may sink in despair. Those whom grace leads arrive at rest in Christ, but it is
through the wood and through the slough. Once more, I remarked another path,
which came in from the farmer's fields, through lands where the plough and the
sickle are busy, each in its season ; so that those who come from that quarter to
worship come across the place of toil, and may fitly represent those who are full of
earnestness and effort, but have as much need of Jesus as any. They do not know
yet the way of salvation, but they follow after righteousness by the law, and strive
to enter in at the strait gate in their own strength. But if they ever come to
Christ they will have to leave those fields and the plough and sickle of their own
strength, and submit to receive Jesus as their all. {Ibid.)
THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR.
^
CHAPTER II.
Vers. 1-12. And a^aln He entered Into Capernaum. The general ministry of
Christ: — Christ's apparent delays are only the maturings of time — the ripenings of
opportunity. He will come, not when impatient men think best, but when His
wisdom determines : neither too soon nor too late. I. Where Christ is desired
Christ oomeb. He visits with equal readiness every willing heart. In penitent
and submissive natures He finds His favourite haunts. II. Christ's presence in
the house cannot bb concealed. Holy influences emanate from Him, freely as
light from the sun. III. Christ binds together all classes. IV. Human
LIMITS ARK too NARROW FOR Christ's KINGDOM. God's plaus are expausive; let
us beware of trying to contract them. We must enlarge our ideas, until they are
commensurate with God's truth ; we must enlarge our sympathies until they em-
brace every human need. V. Christ improves every occasion. Whatever ie
needed. He is ready to supply. Each individual in that crowd had some special
want, but not one was making special application. But Christ could not be idle.
His business was to minister. If they did not want a word of healing, they all wanted
a word of instruction. (D. Davies, M.A.) It was noised tJiat He was in the
house: — I. Houses where Christ will dwell. 1. The human heart. 2. The
Christian family. 3. A spiritual Church. II. The chief glory of a Christian
Church — ^not the building, nor the form of service, nor the social position of its
members, nor the eloquence of the preacher, nor its past history — but the Christ
who dwells within it. III. TnE self-manifesting nature of true religion. If
Christ be within the heart, the family, or the Church — the fact will be known
abroad. Though the rose is not seen its fragrance is perceived. Its glitter betrays
the presence of gold. Clouds cannot conceal the sun, for the day-light declares its
ascendency. IV. Thb chief drawing power of Christianity. If we would
draw the multitude we must do it, not so much by eccentricities — advertise-
ments, as by obtaining the presence of Jesus Christ. He will draw all men unto
Him. Christ within will attract the multitude without (L. Palmer.) The king
and his Court : — Where the king is there is his Court. {Anx)n.) A Jiappy town: —
Happy town in such an inhabitant, and in this respect lifted up to heaven. Indeed,
in this, heaven came down to Capernaum. (Trapp,) Shiloh : — Where Shiloh is
there shall the gathering of the people be. {M. Henry.) Christ in the house : —
1. When Christ may be said to be in the house. 1. When the Bible is there.
2. When a good man enters it and carries with him the savour of Christ. 3.
When He dwells in the heart of any one in the family — parent, child, servant, Ac
4. Into whatever house a Christian family enters, Christ enters with it, &o. II.
Some of the advantages of having Christ in the house. 1. If it be noised
that Christ is in the house good men will be drawn to it and bad men will keep
away. 2. There will be a witness for God there. 3. There is a direct communica-
tion between it and the house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. 4.
That house is under the peculiar protection of Divine Providence. 6. The sym-
pathies of good men are drawn towards it. Conclusion : We should seek Christ
on our own account ; and we should seek Him on account of others. {G. Rogers.)
Jesus in the house : piety at heme : — How many are longing for grand spheres in
which to serve God. They admire heroic men and women who have been bold for
the truth, and wish they had some daring opportunity in which to exhibit Chris-
tian heroism and endurance. St. Paul says to such persons (1 Tim. v. 4), " I will
tell you of a place where you can show forth all that is beautiful and glorious in
the Christian character, and that place is the domestic circle; " " Let them first
learn to show piety at home." Indeed, if a man does not serve God on a small
scale, he never will serve Him on a large one. {J. N. Norton.) How Christ enters tJie
house : — Christ Jesus gains admission to the house in various ways. Sometimes
it is through the sweet influence of a little child, who has heard of Him in the
Sunday-school. Sometimes Jesus finds His way into the house through the agency
of a good book or a tract. Sometimes He leaves the fragrance of His example behind
Him, after the visit of a friend. Jesus may only be present in the house in the
person of the humblest servant, and yet the influence of that servant will be felt.
(Ibid.) Family worship: — Bishop Coxe, in the preface to his ** Covenant
Prayer," gives this interesting narrative. •* A few years ago I visited an old feudal
castle in England. One of its towers dates from King John's time ; its outer walls
bear marks of siege and damage from the gutis of Cromwell. The young owner
CHAP, n.] ST, MARK, 5f
lately married, was beginning his housekeeping aright, and when I came down into
the old hall to breakfast, his servants were all assembled for prayers with the
family. Though I was asked to officiate, I reminded my kind host that every man
is a priest in his own household, and I begged him to officiate as he was used to do.
So he read prayers and Holy Scripture, with due solemnity, and we all kneeled
down. Happening to lift my eyes, I observed over his head, upon a massive
oaken beam that spanned the hall, an inscription in old English :
•* * That house shall be preserved, and never shall decay,
Where the Almighty God is worshipped, day by day. a.d. 1558/ '
{Ibid.) Piety in the house proved by mrtue in the children : — If I am told in
general terms of a mother, that she has gone to the studio of a photographic artist
to obtain a portrait of herself, and if the question afterwards arise, did she sit alone,
or did she group the children round her feet, and hold the infant on her knee P J
do not know, for I was not there ; but show me the glass which the artist has just
taken out from a vessel of liquid in a dark room, and is holding up to the light. What
figures are those that are gradually forming upon its surface? In that glass rises
the outline of that maternal form ; and the forms of the children come gradually
in, variously grouped around her. Ah 1 I know now that this mother sat not
alone when the sun in the heavens painted her picture in that glass. The
character and condition of children, through all their after life, tell plainly who
were closest to her heart, and whose names were oftenest on her lips, when the
mother held communion with Jesus in the house. {Amot.) Christly influence in
the home : — TraveUing on the Lake Lugano, one morning, we heard the swell of
the song of the nightingale, and the oars were stilled on the blue lake as we
listened to the silver sounds. We could not see a single bird, nor do I know that
we wished to see — we were so content with the sweetness of the music : even so it
is with our Lord ; we may enter a house where He is loved, and we may hear
nothing concerning Christ, and yet we may perceive clearly enough that He is
there, a holy influence streaming through their actions pervades the household ; so
that if Jesus be unseen, it is clear that He is not unknown. Go anywhere where
Jesus is, and though you do not actually hear His name, yet the sweet influence
which flows from His love will be plainly enough discernible. (C. H. Sjnirgeon.)
Christ in the house : — I. That Christ in the house is an attraction — " Many were
gathered together." II. That Christ in the house is an instbuction — ••He
preached the word unto them." III. That Christ in the house is a benbdiotion.
1. A benediction of healing. 2. A benediction of pardon. 1. That Christ is
willing to dwell in the homes of men. 2. That when Christ dwells in the home it
is visible to the world that He does so. 3. That the home-life should be a per-
petual but silent sermon. {J, S, Exell, M.A.)
Ver. 3. And they come unto Him, bringing one sick of the palay, which ira«
t>ome of four. — The charities of the poor: — " Borne of four." The charities of the
rich are published far and wide, and all men talk of them. Let us turn from them
to think for a little of the charities of the poor. But how do we know that the
paralytic in this story belonged to the poor? From St. Mark. When he says
(ii. 4J " They let down the bed," he employs a different word for bed from St.
Matthew, viz., the Greek form of the Latin grabatus, the pallet or camp-bed used by
the poor (Cf. John v. 8 ; Acts v. 15, ix. 33). This is one of those graphic touches
by which he so often gives additional interest and pictorial vividness to his narrative.
(Cf. in the context, "Capernaum," ver. 1, "about the door," ver. 2, "broken it
up." ver. 4, " son," ver. 6, and text, " borne of four.") The story suj^gests as to the
charities oif the poor — I. That thet oenerally sPRrNo fbom neighboubhood —
I* Four." Who were they, friends or kinsfolk ? Most probably neighbours. There
is something sacred in neighbourhood. It is an ordinance of God, and the source
of countless kindnesses and sweet humanities. II. That thky abb often nameless—
"Four." The deed of love is chronicled, but nothing is said to identify the doers.
So of thousands. Their simple, unostentatious charities are unnamed and un-
ht)noured. But their record is on high. HI. That they abe caui^d fobth eh cases
OF obeat distbess — ••Palsy." Type of many. No place exempt from trouble.
Multitudes of the poor suffer grievously. IV. That they are chabactebizkd by
MUCH DisiNTEBESTEDNESS AND GENEROSITY. Of the chnritics of the poor it may b«
said, as Spenser says of the angels, that they are •' all for love and nothing for
60 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chaj. n.
toward.** Y. That thet abb pxbsonallt bxbbcised. Most of the rich act bj proxy.
How different with the poor. They act for themselves. VI. That they beach
THXIB mOHXST TOBM WHEN THBT ABE THE &IEANS OF BBINGINO SOULS TO GhBIBT. VII.
That thbt bhaix have a obxat bbwabo. Happy day for this poor man and hia
friends. (W, Forsyth, M.A.) Mutual help : — '• Two," says Solomon, •* are better
than one ; for if one fall he can help the other, but woe nnto him that is alone when
he falleth 1 '* The cobbler could not paint the picture, but he could tell Apellea
that the shoe-latchet was not quite right, and the painter thought it well to take
his hint. Two neighbours, one blind and the other lame, were called to a place at
ft great distanca What was to be done ? The blind man could not see, and the
lame man conld not walk ! Why, the blind man carried the lame one ; the former
assisted by his legs, the other by his eyes. Say to no one, then, '* I can do without
you ; " but be ready to help those who ask your aid, and then, when it is needed,
yon may ask theirs. {Smith.) A man with a palsy : — Learn : I. The blessed-
ness OF faithful friends. II. The poweb of sin. III. The besult of persbveb-
ANCB. IV. The philosophy of beligion — " Seek ye first," &o. {Anon.) The sick
man let down through the roof to Christ : — I. Those who would be healed by Christ
HUST COME TO HiM. Though in exceptional cases our Lord did cure sick people who
were at a distance {e.g. Luke vii. 1-10), His general rule was to heal by look, word,
and touch — by the giving out of " virtue " from His living presence (v. 30). Thui
in the case before us the man was not cured till he reached Christ. 1. It is not
enough to hear much of Christ. It is not enough to hear of a surgeon ; a cure can
be effected only by personal treatment. 2. It is not enough to seek help of those
who are near to Christ. The crowd about the door could not heal the sick man.
II. ThEBB abb those who will NEVEB beach GhBIST unless they ABE BBOUOHT TO
£[iM BY OTHEBS. The sick man was ** borne of four," and could not have reached
Jesus without this help. It is the mission of the Church to bring to Christ those
who are too helpless in spiritual indifference to seek Him of their own accord (Luke
xiv. 21-23). Note — 1. The Church cannot cure the world of its sin. 2. Those who
cannot do more, may be able to bring others under "the sound of the word,"
by inducing them to attend places of worship, &c. IH. Thb selfishness op somb
WHO ABB ENJOYING ChBISTIAN PBIVILEGES IS ONE OF THB QBBATEST IMPEDIMENTS TO
THB SPREAD OF THE BLESSINOS OF THE GOSPEL AMONG THOSE WHO ABE AS YET WITHOUT
THEM. The selfish crowd would not give place for the sick man. IV. Earnest
PBBSEVERANOE IN SEEKING ChRIST WILL OVERCOME THE QBBATEST DIFFICULTIES. The
readiness to give up before difficulties is a sure proof of half-heartedness. It is the
sluggard who says, "There is a lion in the path." Christ is always accessible,
though not always with ease. V. Though the way of coming to Chbist may bb
XBREGULAR, HiS HEALING BLESSING WILL BE CERTAINLY GIVBN WHEN ONCE He IS TRULY
FOUND. There are cases in which the regular methods of the Church fail, and
irregular methods seem to succeed. {W. F. Adeney^ M.A,) Healing the para-
lytic : — ^I. FoBGivBNESS is the chief blessing. II. Adoption — " Son,'* III. Glad-
ness— "Be of good cheer." IV. Faith — "When He saw their faith." (D.
Brotchie.) ChrisVs way of dealing with sin: — I. Thk malady pbesented to
Christ. The malady, apparently, was nothing more than palsy. But not as such
did Christ treat it. As with their faith, so it was here. He went deeper than per-
severance or ingenuity. He goes deeper than the outward evil ; down to the evil,
the root of all evil, properly the only evil — sin. Now sin has a twofold set of con-
sequences. 1. The naturiJ. By the natural, we mean those results which come
inevitably in the train of vnrong-doing, by what we call the laws of nature visiting
themselves on the outward condition of a sinner, by which sin and suffering are
linked together. Here, apparently, palsy had been the natural result of ein ; for
otherwise the address of Christ was meaningless. These natural consequences are
often invisible as well as inevitable. Probably not one of the four friends, or even
the physician, suspected such a connection. But the conscience of the palsied man
and the all-seeing eye of Christ traced the connection. Such an experience is true
much oftener than we imagine. The irritable temperament, the lost memory, are
eonneoted with sins done long ago. For nothing here stands alone and causeless.
The Saviour saw in this palsied man the miserable wreck of an ill-spent life. 2.
Now quite distinct from these are the moral consequences of guilt : by which I mean
those which tell upon the character and inward being of the man who sins. In
one sense, no doubt, it is a natural result, inasmuch as it is by a law, regular and
unalterable, a man becomes by sin deteriorated in character, or miserable. Now
are twofold, negative and positive — the loss of some blessing : or the accruing
CHAP. 11.] ST, MARK. 61
of some evil to the heart. Loss — as when by sinning we lose the capacity for all
higher enjoyments ; for none can sin without blunting his sensibilities. He has
lost the zest of a pure lifp, the freshneps and the flood of happiness which come to
every soul when it is delicate, and pure, and natural. This is no light loss. K
any one here congratulates himself that sin has brought to him no positive misery,
my brother, I pray you to remember that God's worst curse was pronounced upon
the serpent tempter. Apparently it was far less than that pronounced on the
woman, but really it was far more terrible. Not pain, not shame — no, these ara
remedial, and may bring penitence at last — but to sink the angel in the animal —
the spirit in the flesh ; to be a reptile, and to eat the dust of degradation as if it
were natural food. Eternity has no damnation deeper than that. Then, again, a
positive result — the dark and dreadful loneliness that comes from doing wrong — a
conscious unrest which plunges into business, or pleasure, or society, not for the
loTe of these things, but to hide itself from itself as Adam did in the trees of the
garden, because it dare not hear the voice of God, nor believe in His presence. II.
Christ's treatment op that malady. By the declaration of God's forgiveness.
The forgiveness of God acts upon the moral consequences of sin directly. Eemorse
passes into penitence and love. There is no more loneliness, for God has taken up His
abode there. No more self-contempt, for he whom God has forgiven learns to forgive
himself. There is no more unrest, for " being justified by faith, we have peace with
God." Upon the natural consequences, not directly, but indirectly and mediately.
The forgiveness of Christ did not remove the palsy, that was the result of a separate
act of Christ. It is quite conceivable that it might not have been removed at all.
Consider too, that without a miracle, they must have remained in this man's case.
It is so in every-day life. If the intemperate man repents he will receive forgive-
ness, but will that penitence give him back the steady hand of youth ? Or if the
suicide between the moment of draining the poisoned cup and that of death repent
of his deed, will that arrest the operation of the poison ? A strong constitution or
the physician may possibly save life ; but penitence has nothing to do with it. Say
that the natural penal consequence of crime is the scaffold : — Did the pardon given
to the dying thief unnail his hands? Did Christ's forgiveness interfere with the
natural consequences of his guilt f And thus, we are brought to a very solemn and
awful consideration, awful because of its truth and simplicity. The consequences
of past deeds remain. They have become part of the chain of the universe — effects
which now are causes, and will work and interweave themselves with the history of
the world for ever. You cannot undo your acts. If you have depraved another's
will, and injured another's soul, it may be in the grace of God that hereafter you
will be personally accepted and the consequences of your guilt inwardly done away,
but your penitence cannot undo the evil you have done, and God's worst punish-
ment may be that you may have to gaze half frantic on the ruin you have caused,
on the evil you have done. And yet even here the grace of God's forgiveness is not
in vain ; it may transform the natural consequences of sin into blessings. It would
give meekness, patience, and change even the character of death itself. A changed
heart will change all things around us. III. Thb tbub aim and meanimo or
MIRACLES. It is the outward manifestation of the power of God, in order that we
may believe in the power of God in things that are invisible. Miracles were no
concession to that infidel spirit which taints our modern Christianity, and which
cannot believe in God's presence, except it can see Him in the supernatural.
Rather, they were to make us feel that all is marvellous, all wonderful, all per-
vaded with a Divine presence, and^that the simplest occurrences of life are miracles.
In conclusion. Let me address those who, like this sufferer, are in any degree
conscious either of the natural or moral results of sin, working in them. My Chris-
tian brethren, if the crowd of difiSculties which stand between your soul and God
succeed in keeping you away, all is lost. Right into His presence you must force
your way, with no concealment. {F. W. Robertson, M. A .) Body and soul cured : —
I. Pardon, as such, is not a prooressivk thing. There is no such thing as half a
pardon. There are no processes of forgiveness — *' Thy sins are forgiven thee.'*
The sense of pardon will progress with growing holiness ; but not the pardon. II,
We may notice further that the forgiveness op sins took the initiative of ALIj
THE BLESSINGS. It was the first act of grace which led on to all the rest. Remem-
ber, we do not work up to our pardon, but from it. We receive it in the free, un-
deserved, sovereign grace of God. lU. And further, we gather from the story, that
any temporal blessings that we receive may, to a devout mind, give kvidenok of
God'B liOVB TO THX SOUL, AND OF HlS POWKB TO BESTOW FURTHEB BPIBITUAL OXFTA.
es THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap, ik
IV. It is strengthening and assuring also to see by what tenures we hold our
PARDON — "The Son of man," &c. (J. Vatighan, M.A.) The paralytic let down
through the roof: — The scribes were right in their instinctive reflection, that none
can forgive sins but God. As an illustration of the whole covenant of our redemp-
tion from guilt, and its penal consequences, Christ first forgives the sins of the
paralytic, and then throws health into every fibre of his body. Does it not intimate
"that all judgment hath been committed unto the Son." JDoes it not cast a new
light upon those passages of Holy "Writ, in which the prerogative of giving life is
attributed t6 Jesus, as though He were the original source of vitality. Let ua
regard this as an instance of Divine faith ; it will help us to a view of faith as con-
trasted with reason, and of faith exercised in its proper department ; also an example
of the moral necessity of faith to the obtaining of blessings from heaven. I. The
consideration of the text will help us to a right view of faith as contrasted with
REASON. It was clearly faith which brought the men to the city where our Lord
was ; whereas reason might have kept them at home. Let it be assumed that faith
and reason are independent processes of the mind, as being exercised on different
things ; faith •' cometh by hearing," and simply accepting testimony ; reason, on
the other hand, looks rather to the lessons of experience. The four friends of the
palsied man having heard of the cures wrought by Jesus, determined at all hazards
to carry their friend to Him. Now we call the moral temper which so influenced
them it may be in the twinkling of an eye — faith. They accepted the statements
of those who had been at Capernaum. They did not argue concerning the super-
natural power of our Lord, or inquire whether it was consonant with the usual
course of nature ; such would have been the exercise of reason. Reason would have
contended that no force of words could restore palsied limbs to health. Faith, bo
far contrasted with reason, was ready to make the journey. To put the contrast in
another view. There are many who would contend, that our last remark goes to
depreciate faith, and to say that it is a moral quality, lower than reason ; dependent,
after all, upon it, and content to make its decisions and pursue its conduct upon a
less precise and more vague amount of evidence. Nay, more, that it may be con-
fused with reason, and is but a certain form or process of reason. This is practi-
cally the view of all those modem thinkers, who, wanting to get rid of the motive
powers of the gospel, seek first to depreciate the very principles of which they are
constituted. But it may be replied, that reason is not the origin and source of
faith, because it sometimes comes in to test and verify its discoveries, any more
than the judge at your tribunals is the origin of the innocence of those whom he
righteously acquits ; or the critic who decides about the structure and the plot of an
epic, is to be confounded with the poet, from the depths of whose abounding genius
its ridi thoughts have welled forth. From what we have said it may be presumed
that we claim for faith something not unlike a separate identity in the breast. We
think that we hardly disparage conscience — itself not far apart from reason, as ex-
ercised in a high and holy manner, and yet, though near, distinct — ^if we seat faith
by her side, in the banquet of the soul's uppermost chamber : if we claim for faith
the prerogatives of a separate instinct and power — a moral temper and standing^
apart in the breast ; and coming in its brighter forms not merely of ourselves, not
as a natural evolution of any ordinary inward powers, but as the special gift of God.
Nor is this to confound it with that superstition of fanaticism by which the pre-
tended votaries of faith are sometimes led away, and which renders it so obnoxious
to men of the world. But not to continue longer this desultory contrast of faith
and reason than the necessity of the times requires, and leaving its development
rather to your private meditations, we shall only dwell on one more point, as dis-
played in the case of the earnest friends of the paralytic. This conduct forms a
strong illustration of the truth that faith is a principle of action, as reason of
minute investigations. We may, if we will, think that such investigations are of
high value ; though, in truth, they have a tendency to blunt the practical energy
of the mind while they improve its scientific exactness. This remark brings us to
the gist of our whole argument. We are surrounded by men who would persuade
us that the world is to be regenerated, and all its paralytic prostrations healed, by
the careful balancing of certain philosophical truths, by courses of speculative
inquiry, by the exercise of the reason alone. Of the height of faith in its higher
forms they know nothing. We venture to tell them that whether for the rescue of
a pauper or a world their plans and principles are powerless. While reason is
Bpeculating and balancing things, and doubts which way to proceed, faith move*
lapidly and majestically forward, and sheds blessings at every footstep. While
CH^. II.] ST. MARK. 61
reason inquires whether the waters can possess any healing power, faith steps in,
and is made whole. If, then, reason and faith are to stand opposed, let us stand,
with the just, by faith. Keason, set up in denial of faith — in morals, gave men the
fictions of Bousseau — in religion, of Thomas Paine— in politics, of the French
Eevolution. Irreverence, captiousness, the spirit of division, the denial of the
divinity of our blessed Lord and all sacramental mysteries, the sneers at prayer —
these are the genuine products of reason, attired as a harlot, carried as an idol,
and set in antagonism to faith. Of extremes, that of the rationalist is the worst
I had rather be superstitious than sceptical. Wherever I am, oh Jesus Christ, give
me the spirit of simplicity, learning, and loving ; lest Thou shouldest be near, and
I knew it not — lest others should be pressing to hear Thy words and seek Thy face,
taking, with holy "violence, the kingdom of heaven by force," and I should linger
apart from Thee ; lest mj soul should be left with its leprous taint of sin uncured,
while others came from Thy presence, with souls like that of a little child ; lest my
spiritual powers should be palsied still, while others, "borne" by the faith of
•* four," had their sins forgiven, their maladies healed, and took up their bed, and
departed to their house. IL Without apologising for the length of the discussion
just closed — because it ieems necessary to meet the rationalist and utilitarian
direction of this iron age — we turn with minds relieved and rejoicing to a few
practical reflections immediately suggested by the text. It furnishes, first, an ex-
ample of earnest industry on the part of the friends and attendants of the poor
paralytic, such as we shall do well to imitate as well as admire. Brethren, beloved
in the Lord, is your substantiation of things hoped for simple and uncompromising
like this ? Beheving, as we trust you do, in the Lord Jesus Christ, do ye use con-
trivance as earnest, and labour as hard, in fulfilling that best office of friendship,
which places the diseased in the presence of their Saviour ? Do you send up their
case to the house of God, that it may be borne, as it were, not of " four," but of
many, to the throne of heavenly grace ? If there be in your families any paralysed
by sin and wickedness, men whose moral principles are deadened, and sensibilities
benumbed, by the poison of licentiousness, or infidelity, or worldliness, do you
try by importunate application, and kind but constant entreaty, to bring them to
the living fountain, open for sin and uncleanness? Christ is in His Church;
do you try and persuade them to join you in its holy services? Do you ply
them with every kind and tender office, bearing them, as it were, in your arms,
that your importunity may be successful ? Do you take as much pains fof
their soul's health, as they who carried the palsied cripple, and let him down
through the roof of the house ? And you cannot but remark the reward which
our blessed Lord vouchsafes to their exertions. His omniscient eye followed
them as they toiled up the staircase to the roof ; He perceived their confi-
dence. It is not, we trust, irreverent to suppose that His spirit rejoiced within
Him, and felt serene satisfaction at the flow of faith in the hearts of these people.
Mysteriously restrained or free, rapid or slow, plenteous or frugal, in the disbursal
of His miraculous blessings, according to the faith of those around Him, grieved
as He often was at the hardness of men's hearts, doing here and there " not many
mighty works, because of their unbelief ; " we may suppose the joyous contrast of
emotion, as He perceived the paralytic let down in His presence. Similar, beloved
brethren, shall be your reward ; if you, with the same quiet constancy and stead-
fastness, seek to bring souls to Him, who is the good Physician. It may be, that
your toil will long appear mere unprofitable waste. You will long wonder at the
little result which ensues on your earnest effort. The deeper laws of God's eternal
kingdom, the manner in which He subdues minds to Himself, will be entirely
hidden from your most searching investigation. Still, with faith, toil on ; toil on.
Carry your wicked and morally paralysed friends, on the arms of prayer, to Christ ;
persuade them, if possible, to seek the sacred scenes where the shadows of Christ'i
mysterious presence fall ; •• in due time ye shall reap, if ye faint not." {T. JaeksoHt
M.A.)
Ver. 4. — ^They uncovered the roof where He was. — Daring faith : — These roofi
are substantially built, as they need to be, since the whole family habitually walked
and slept upon them. They broke up and uncovered a part of the roof. But one
would have thought that even then they were as far off from Jesus as ever. It
must have required a daring faith in those four men to conceive and carry out the
course they took. They let down their neighbour in a bed, which they had slung
to ropes, into the room where Jesus was talking with rabbis of all the schooia, but
64 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. n.
they uttered no request One would like to know the names of these four good
men, good neighbours, good friends. The fact that we know not their names
suggests to us that Christ cares for men whose names the world has never heard of,
and never will hear ; for the lowly and inconspicuous, no less than for the famous
and the great. {S. Cox^ D.D.) Doing difficult work: — When you cannot do
a good thing, then is the very time to do it. If it cannot be done in one way,
do it in another. If there is no way of doing it on the ground-level, get up on to
the roof and do it. •* Where there is a will, there is a way." The best work done
in the world has been work that could not be done ; and there is rarely a time
when you ought not to do something that cannot be done — as it seems to you.
(H. (7. Tnimbull.) The potency of faith in Christian work : — I. True faixh is
ALWAYS CONCERNED TOR THE WELFARE OF OTHERS. Thcse men manifestly worked
disinterestedly. So faith always acts ; like the sister grace of charity, she " seeketh
not her own." II. Tuue faith always looks to Christ as the centre op its
OPERATIONS. Not foHus OT cciemonies, or ministers, or churches, or even the Bible
itself, but Christ is the only Saviour of the lost III. True faitb is fertile in
EXPEDIENTS FOB OVERCOMING DIFFICULTIES. Have WO exhausted all ingenuity
in seeking souls ? IV. True faith meets with its appropriate reward. What
a reward for their faith ! Here is infinitely more than they ever expected (Ephes.
iii. 20). Learn — that faith is essentially practical ; that religion is promoted by
the exertions of believers ; that to bring others to Jesus is the noblest achievement
of man. {W, W, Smith.) Faith seen by Christ: — On none of these qualities
did Christ fix as an explanation of the fact. He went deeper. He traced it to the
deepest source of power that exists in the mind of man. " When Jesus saw their
faith." For as love is deepest in the Being of God, so faith is the mightiest
principle in the soul of man. Let us distinguish their several essences. Love is
the essence of the Deity — that which makes it Deity. Faith is the essence
of Humanity, which constitutes it what it is. And, as here, it is the warring
principle of this world which wins in life's battle. No wonder that it is written in
Scripture—" This is the victory that overcometh the world, even our faith." No
wonder it is said, " All things are possible to him that believeth." It is that which
wrestles with difficulty, removes mountains, tramples upon impossibilities. It is
this spirit which in the common affairs of life, known as a " sanguine tempera-
ment," never says " impossible " and never believes in failure, leads the men of
the world to their most signal successes, making them believe a thing possible
because they hope it; and giving substantial reality to that which before was
a shadow and a dream. It was this " substance of things hoped for " that gave
America to Columbus, when billows, miles deep, rose between him and the land,
and the men he commanded well-nigh rose in rebellion against the obstinacy
which beheved in " things not yet seen." It was this that crowned the Mahomme-
dan arms for seven centuries with victory : so long as they believed themselves the
champions of the One God with a mission from Him, they were invincible. And
it is this which so often obtains for some new system of medicine the honour of
a cure, when tiie real canse of oure is only the patient's trust in the remedies.
(F. W, RoberUon, M,A,)
Ver. 6. When Jesus ww their tallh.— Faith for others .-—The perfect concur-
rence of the paralytic cannot be doubted, and probably he had already poured out
his soul in confession; still, we have no right to ignore what the Holy Spirit
has here recorded, viz., that it was the sight of his bearers' faith which drew from
Christ's lips the words of forgiveness. It is a fact full of mystery, but full also of
consolation, that not a few of the gifts of healing and restoration — on the centu-
rion's servant, on Jairus' child, on the blind man at Bethsaida, on the Syro-Phce-
nician's daughter — ^were obtained through the faith and prayers, not so much of
the eick and afflicted themselves, as of their relations and friends. Surely this
dependence of man upon his fellow-creatures was intended to foreshadow the great
mystery of Redemption through Another's Blood. It may well have^ been placed
on record by the Holy Spirit to teach us that whenever we try to bring others to
the feet of Jesus to be healed of their soul's sickness — be they friends or enemies —
whenever we offer up •• the prayer of faith," which we are assured ♦• shall save the
sick," we are associating ourselves in deeds of mercy and acts of intercession with
the Great High Priest of the world—the One Mediator between God and Man— the
Man Christ Jesus, our Lord. (H. M. Luckock, D.D,) Faith visible :-^Fa.ith is
•ar« to be visible to the naked eye. That which never manifests itself in action
CHAP, n.] ST, MARK.
is not the faith which Jesas sees with approval. Faith that cannot be seen is dead
faith — dead and buried, (if. G. Trumbull.) Jeaus saw their faith : —Here "vtab
the explanation of their strange conduct, and the secret motive power of their
determined action. The crowd saw their eccentricity, Jesus saw their faith. If
there be anything good within us Christ will be sure to see it. Here, then, we see
the power of faith. I. It deepened their sympathy for this sufferer. If they pitied
before, they would have a keener sympathy now they believed that a cure was
possible. II. It devised a scheme for bringing him to Christ. IIL It carried
out that scheme in the most extraordinary way. lY. It attracted the admiration
of Christ. He saw their faith. V. It obtained a cure for the sufferer. Their
faith. {Anon.) The faith of a child: — An evangelist of to-day tells that, after
one of his meetings, he observed that a little girl kept her seat after all others had
left. Thinking that the child was asleep, he stepped forward to awaken her, but
found she was praying that God would send her drunken father to that meeting-
house that very night, there to be converted. The evangelist waited, and soon
a man came rushing in from the street, and knelt tremblingly at the child's side.
He had been brouglit thither by a sudden impulse which he could not resist, and
then and there he found Christ. The child's faith was honoured in the conversion
of her father. {The Sunday School Times.) A paralytic healed on the faith of
others : — What I would especially remark in these words, is the benefit which this
sick man received from the faith of others. He was healed upon the faith of the
men who brought him to Jesus. Several instances of the same kind occur in
the history of Christ's miracles. The conduct of the Saviour, in these instances,
is agreeable to the general plan of God's moral government. As He has placed
mankind in a state of mutual dependence, so it is an essential part of the constita-
tion of His government, that some shall be benefited by the faith and piety, or
shall be liable to suffer by the vice and wickedness of others. The bestowment
indeed of future and eternal blessings must depend on personal qualifications.
Obserration shows us that this is no uncommon case. The virtue and happineai
of communities greatly depend on the wisdom and integrity of rulers. The advan-
tages which one enjoys by his connection with the virtuous, and the dangers to
which another is exposed by his connection with the vicious, are not always owing
merely to himself, but often to the inmiediate providence of God, who allots to
each one such trials and such assistances as His wisdom sees fit. From this part
of the Divine constitution we may derive some useful instructions. I. We see the
reasonableness of intercession. If God is pleased to employ some men as visible
instruments of general good, we may rationally suppose that He often, in a more
secret and invisible manner, connects the happiness of many with the fervent
prayers of a few, or even one godly soui Of the Jews, in a corrupt period, the
apostle says, •• they were beloved for their fathers' sake." Some will ask, perhaps,
how is it reasonable that our future happiness should be made to depend on
another's prayers ? We have not the command of their hearts, we cannot oblige
them to pray for us ; why should we be exposed to suffer for their neglect ? What
if, in His good providence, He brings you in the way of some useful warnings and
instructions, and grants you some awakened and convincing influences of His kind
spirit, when you have not sought them ? And what if He does this in answer to
the fervent prayers of others ? Will you say that all this is wrong ? IL We see
from this subject that the doctrine of Scripture concerning our being involved im
THE CONSEQUENCES OF THE PBIMITIVE APOSTAST IS AOBEEABLB TO THE ANALOGY OV
PBOviOENCE. III. That our salvation through the atonement and bighteous-
KESS OF a BeDEEMEB APPEARS TO CORRESPOND WITH THE GENERAL CONSTITUTION OV
God's moral govern uent. It is an essential part of the Divine plan that the
virtue of some should not only benefit themselves, but extend its kind and salutary
influence to others. We see this to be the case among men ; and probably it is
the case among all moral beings except those who are in a state of punishment.
The angels, we are told, are ministering spirits, sent forth to minister to the heirs
of salvation. IV. Our subject removes the pbincipal objection ubged against
THE DEDICATION OF INFANTS TO GOD IN THE ORDINANCE OF BAPTISM. For it shoWS
that some may be benefited by the faith of others. It is often asked, " What ad-
vantage is baptism to infants ? They have no knowledge of the use and design
of it. They have not that faith which is required to baptism. If they are bap-
tized, it cannot be on their own faith, it must be on the faith of their parents ;
and what benefit can they derive brom the faith of another? " But this is no moit
an objection against the baptism of infants than against intercession for infants.
5
66 TEE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap, n,
V. OUB SUBJECT TEACHES US THE IMPORTANCE OE THE STATION IN WHICH WE ARB
piaACed. We are acting not merely for ourselves, but for others, for many others*
how many we cannot tell ; for we know not how many are connected with us ; not
how extensive may be the influence of our good or bad conduct. A holy and re-
ligious life is certainly of vast importance to ourselves ; for on this depends the
happiness of our existence through all the succeeding ages of eternal duration.
Bat when we consider ourselves as standing in a near connection with our fellow
probationers ; when we realize how much good a sinner may destroy, or a saint
promote ; how many souls may be corrupted by the example of the one, and how
many may be converted by the influence of the other ; the importance of our
personal religion rises beyond all conception. VI. Wb see that benevolence
MUST BE AN ESSENTIAL PART OF TRUE RELIGION. If God has placed US in such a
connection with those around us that their virtue and happiness will be affected by
our conduct, we are evidently bound to act with a regard to their interest. {J.
Lathrop, D,D.) Son, thy sins be forgiven thee. Power of these words: —
These words, so it is recorded, saved the life of that zealous minister of God,
Donald Cargill. He had been for some time under conviction of sin, and his
mind was harassed by Satan's assaults. Being naturally reserved, he could
not prevail upon himself to lay his troubles before others. At last, in a
paroxysm of despair, he resolved to bring his life on earth to a close. Again and
again did he seek the banks of the Clyde, with a steadfast resolution to drown
himself ; and repeatedly was he interrupted by meeting persons he knew. Not to
be frustrated, he rose one morning and walked to an old coal-pit, intending to throw
himself into the abyss. At the verge, the words above quoted flashed across his
mind ; the effect was powerful and instantaneous; he returned to praise God for a
free salvation, and to serve Him in a faithful and consistent Christian life.
Ver. 6. But there -were certain of the scribes sitting there, and reasoning* in
their hearts. — Reasons in reserve : — All true religion is located in the heart. Where
the human heart goes the human life will go. The New Testament is a revelation
addressed to the heart. Our Lord Jesus Christ was ** set for the fall and rising
again of many in Israel, and for a sign to be spoken against, that the thoughts of
many hearts may be revealed." This story is remarkable for the exhibition it
makes : (1) Of enterprise in bringing a helpless soul to the Saviour : how many
ingenuities there are for reaching men when only the friends around them are in
earnest ; (2) of the intimate connection existing between sin and suffering : our
Lord's action in bestowing pardon with the cure was strictly logical ; (3) of the
great advantage it is to any man to have Christians for companions to become
friends in his need : this palsied creature was healed because of the faith other
people had ; (4) of the force of mean motives in driving men to reject Christ : these
scribes were moved by arguments which they cherished, but concealed from sight.
Upon this last point it seems worth while to dwell for a little while just by itself.
Let ns group the illustrations of the narrative around two simple propositions in
turn. I. The worst opposition which Christians have to meet in oftering thk
aOSPEL TO MEN 18 FOUND IN THE MENTAL RESERVATIONS OF ITS REJECTORS, and the
sullen silence of their hearts. 1. To begin with, there are unspoken objections
which influence, if they do not control, one's intellectual views. Men insist that
there are discrepancies in the records of the Old and New Testaments which vitiate
their truth, and, if generally known, would mock their claim to exact inspiration.
Other men make great parade in private over difficulties in doctrine, and challenge
attention to the fact that theologians differ in relation to almost all the cardinal
points of what is called the evangelical system. Still others cavil at the inconsis-
tencies of Church members, and rail out against them for hypocrisy, if only they
can manage to secure a safe and credulous audience that dares not contradict them.
Hints and innuendoes are the usual signs of this disturbed and unwholesome state
of mind. Where do the young men of the preseut day obtain so much sceptical
information ? It is thrust in upon them by the public press. Doubts drop down
like loose feathers wherever croaking ravens are wont to fly. But why is it that
these reasons are so often held in reserve ? Why does the man preserve his sullen
demeanour without a word T (1) Because he is not exactly certain he can state
them: it is not everybody who can say clearly what he does not believe; (2) because
he feels a misgiving that they may not stand when some one a little more scholarly
gets hold of them ; (3) and because he suspects that if he goes so far in his small
infidelity, he really would have to go farther or give it up. 2. There are unconscious
OTAP. n.j ST. MARK, 67
prejudices which arouse one's temper. Some persons oonceive a violent spite at
what they assert is a continuous rebuke whenever Christian life is praised or com-
mended. This is not a new thing in history. Classic annals tell us that an unlet-
tered countryman gave his vote against Aristides at the ostracism because, as he
frankly said, he waa tired of hearing him called "The Just." Other persona
cherish implacable memories of indiscreet zeal practised upon them by those who
supposed they wet* dutifully obeying the command, • ' Go, speak to that young
man." They recite the grievance of revival extravagances, which they deemed
offensive and never to be forgotten. They rehearse the biographies of preachers
who bullied the patient congregations, and then ran into immorality and
deplorable scandal. They plead rashness as an excuse for reserve. 8. There are
unacknowledged sins which sway one's career. Come back to the story here in
Mark's narrative. Hear the comments of these scribes accusing Jesus of blasphemy I
Violent clamours for moral and theological perfectness are raised by many whose
sole aim is to divert attention from some secret indulgences of their own. These
people reason in their hearts. Sometimes in modern life a very showy conflict with
Satan is kept up before the public in order to conceal the fact of one's friendship
with him. It reminds us of plays in which the actors personate the devil fencing
with some good antagonist behind the footlights, a knight, perhaps, the pink of
virtue, battling fiercely with the demon clad in robe of fire. No one engaged for
his soul could appear more bravely in earnest. But we are struck with a certain
kind of wariness, which they both show in their hitting. Sparks fly from the
weapons, but blood does not seem to be drawn. And if afterwards we were to go
behind the scenes, there we should find those high-tempered combatants in a most
surprising state of reconciliation ; honourable knight and fiery devil seated in a
friendly way at the table. 4. There results an unsubdued will sullenly closing
one's lips. Many men live a double life ; they mean to be courteous, but on reli-
gious matters they cultivate a cool, proud reserve. It often surprises us to find our
Christian endeavours so ineffective with apparently kind, open, intelligent people.
What is the real reason ? Because the heart is what governs, and logic is not
addressed to the heart. Argum€nts are made and meant for the intellect, and lose
weight in the tenuous atmosphere of the feelings. It shows no difference whether
we drop down feathers or dollars through the vacuum of an air-pump. II. Thus
we reach our second proposition : All these beasons in reserve avail nothino to
aiEN THE moment THE CONTEST IS SEEN TO BE, AS IT ALWAYS IS, A CONTEST WITH GoD,
AND NOT MAN. 1. Look at the facts here ; first, see verse 8. Jesus understood those
scribes (1) divinely — He "perceived in His spirit." He understood them (2)
thoroughly — ^He saw what was *♦ within themselves.'* He understood them (3) aft
once; note that old word "immediately." God ^ows all our surmises and sus-
picions. Jesus peremptorily challenged those scribes in their logic. (1) He
announced His discovery. They were " amazed ; " literally, thunderstruck. (2)
He accepted their condition. They looked on while He healed the man by miracle,
(3) He defeated them utterly. We read that " they aU glorified God." 2. Now let
ns draw a few final inferences from the whole story. This scene is repeated every
day in the full sight of a patient God. Human nature is always the same along
the ages. (1) There cannot possibly be any reasoning in one's heart which our
omniscient Judge is not able instantly to perceive and to answer. Once a French
soldier fell asleep on his post, and was brought up for trial by court martial. The
first witness called was the Emperor Napoleon. ** I was visiting the sentinels'
outposts," he said; "I saw this soldier myself." (2) True prudence consists in
outspoken candour. *♦ Come, let us reason together." Sometimes objections
vanish with the statement ; for they seem so insignificant when expressed. Mere
articulation of diflficulties often clears them of confusion. (3) Sullen reserve surely
runs to swift ruin. The difference between an ignorant prejudice and a wilful
conceit is shown in this : ignorance stands with its back to the sun, and so if it
advances moves on in the line of its own shadow only a step deeper ; but churlish
conceit walks straight away into a forest of doubts, till its own shadow is darkened
with other shadows gloomier still. Hence, a confessed ignorance is altogether
more hopeful for good because all it has to do is to turn to the light. Sullen
obstinacy has to retrace its path, and so journey clear back to where it started. It
was considerations of this sort which forced the bright remark that *' an ingenuous
intellect is often better than an ingenious one." (4) Reasons in reserve have really
nothing to do with actual life or eternal prospects. (C. -S. Robinson^ D.D.) I.
An importMnt aspect of human power. Secrecy and mental reservations, II. A
68 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. n.
Btartling instance of Divine insight Our silence is as lond as thunder to God !
Our heart-talk is overheard 1 III. A splendid manifestation of Christ's fearlessness.
He need not have answered more than was spoken. lY. A solemn example of the
confusion which will fall upon all Christ's objectors. Enquiry : What is your
unspoken objection ? Doctrinal ? Disciplinary ? Philosophical ? Ethical ? Gram-
matical ? {J. Parker, D.D.) HuTnan reasonings about Divine forgiveness : — L
That human beasonings abb busy with the fiat of the Divine FORorvENEsa.
•• Why doth this man thus speak blasphemies ? Who can forgive sins, but (Jod
only ? " 1. Some men question the ability of Christ to forgive sin. 2. Some men
seek to understand the process by which sin is forgiven. They wish to understand
the mental philosophy of forgiveness, and because they cannot they deride it as a
delusion. Is it to be expected that men shall be able to trace the Divine action in
its method of forgiveness upon the human soul ? Can men infallibly submit the
subtle influences of heaven to their rude and vulgar tests, as they would the
thoughts and mental actions of men ? No 1 Who, by searching, can find out God ?
And certainly in His forgiving influence upon the human soul He is an unsearchable
mystery. 3. Some men repudiate the evidences of the Divine forgiveness. They
ask, how do we know that a man is forgiven ; and what is the difference between
him and any unforgiven individual? The evidence of it is in the hatred of
sin, and in the purity of life which it inspires. And this witness is true. The
world should receive it as such. II. That Chbist refutes the mental reasonings
OF MEN IN reference TO THE FIAT OF DiviNB FORGIVENESS. The reasouiugs of thoso
men were refuted : 1. By the test of consciousness. The palsied man knew that his
sins were forgiven in response to the Divine voice. 2. By the miracle of healing.
Forgiveness heals the life. Lessons : 1. Not to cavil at the method of the Divine
forgiveness. 2. To receive it with adoring gratitude. 3. To attest it by a holy life.
Vers. 7-11. But that ye may know that the Son of Man hath power on earth to
forgive sins. — The ease of Divine power : — I thinlc it is impossible not to be struck
with this narrative. He not only shows His power here, but He shows an un-
rivalled and infinite ease in the exercise of it. For He lets His enemies themselves,
as it were, choose the way in which it should be manifested ; signifying that with
Him it made no difference. (J. Miller.) An example of Christ's supreme power : —
I. Power to FORGIVE sin. 1. This Christ plainly assumes. 2. This power, without
a Mosaic sacrifice, implies that Jesus was already a lamb slain — ^in the purpose of
God. II. Power to heal disease. 1. This is a legitimate work of Jesus as Saviour,
inasmuch as He undertook to bear our infirmities as well as our sins. 2. The
resurrection will be the consummation of this power. UI. Power to bilenck
CAVILLERS. 1. These cavillers were conquered. 2. When Jesus sits on His throne
of judgment all cavillers will be put to shame. (D. C. Hughes, M.A,) Christ, the
Forgiver of sins : — A poor cobbler, unable to read, was asked by an Arian how he
knew that Jesus Christ was the Son of God. •♦ Sir," he replied, *• you know that
when I first became concerned about my soul I called upon you to ask for your
advice, and you told me to go into company and spend my time as merrily as I
could, but not to join the Christians. Well, I followed your advice for some time,
but the more I trifled, the more my misery increased ; and at last I was persuaded
to hear one of those ministers who came into our neighbourhood and preached
Jesus Christ as the Saviour. In the greatest agony of mind I prayed to Him to
save me and to forgive my sins ; and now I feel that He has freely forgiven them ;
and by this I know that He is the Son of God 1 " Christ and the forgiveness of
sin : — What is the forgiveness of sins ? 1. Two words in the New Testament denote
this marvellous work. The meaning of the one is literally *• to bestow grace — to
grant undeserved favour." "Dealing out grace one towards another, as God, for
Christ's sake, deals out grace towards you." The other means literally •• to send
away, to make to depart, to set out of sight by putting away." It fixes atten-
tion on the last element of the transaction, the release from penalties, the dread
sentence of broken law. The other fixes attention on the first element of the
transaction, that sovereign goodness in which it has its source. But what do we
mean by the consequences of sin ? Not outward inflictions. But (a) Divine depri-
vations. Loss of spiritual privileges and their resulting benefits. (6) Moral results
of wrong-doing in its subject. As, for instance, increased disposition to sin; facihty
in transgression ; the imprisonment and torment of evil habit ; upbraiding of the
guilty conscience ; alienation from God ; degradation from life ; dread. Forgive-
ness lays an arresting, healing hand on each of these. It is gracious in its
iL] ST, MARK,
beginnings ; free in its bestowment ; complete in its influence. This fact remindi
us — 1. That forgiveness comes to as out of the plenitude of the Divine nature.
He is faithful and just to forgive. ** I do it for My name's sake." 2. That
this forgiveness reaches human hearts through the Son of Man. The phrase
designates the Redeemer as having taken humanity into association with Divinity.
The God-Man is the forgiving God. Coming to Him, and resting on Him, the
chains are loosed. The Incarnate life bruises the serpent's head. 3. Spiritual
activity is the manifestation and proof of redemptive forgiveness. Impotence
was here visibly changed into strength; helplessness into self -helpful activity.
Is the sinner forgiven? Behold he prayeth. Behold he walks. Behold he
triumphs. 4. This great boon is freely bestowed. (Preacher's Monthly.) Christ's
power to Jorgive : — No wonder Christ's words made the scribes reason in
their hearts, and ask this question. They were astonishing words, and strangely
spoken. I. The surprisb of the scbibbs was matubal. 1. Strange that Christ
should speak to this man about his sins. He seemed to need bodily healing more
than anything else, and it was for that he had been brought to Jesus. None but
Christ could see that his need was deeper than this — that his moral powers were
palsied, his soul in a state of guilt. 2. Christ's assumption of power to forgive
sins appeared blasphemous. To pronounce another's sins forgiven, one must have
access to his most secret thoughts. Such knowledge only God possesses, and he to
whom God may reveal it. H. The bionipicance of miracles. They signify the
special presence of God, and are warranted only as a seal to a most important Divine
message. In this case the miracle established before those present the authority of
Jesus to forgive sins. The Divine control over nature which He actually exerted
testified to the truth of His claim rightfully to exercise another Divine prerogative,
the effect of which cannot be discerned by the bodily senses. UI. The EviDENTiAii
VALUE OF MIRACLES. Important to remember that Christ was always jealously
watched by unfriendly critics, who would certainly have exposed Him had His
pretensions to miraculous power failed. lY. Effect of the miracle. The out-
easts were encouraged to come to one so powerful, and yet so merciful and kind.
V. The object of the Saviour's mission. It is because our wants are so deep,
that He has descended so low. {G. F. Wright.) Power to forgive sins : — L It is
evident that Christ considered His chief claim to the reverence of men was
His power to fobqivb sin. There is no want of man so central as his need to be
rid of the power and guilt of sin. What costly expedients the world has adopted
in the endeavour to free itself from the burden and the torture. That sense of
un worthiness and ill-desert can neither be cajoled nor hunted out of our being. It
may not be an ever-present force. There are times when in the engrossments of
business and the excitement of pleasure we forget what we really are. But in the
depths of our nature the serpent lies coiled, only silent for a while, not destroyed,
and in time we feel the old sting. Men exalt Christianity as the great civilizer,
but it is the redemptive power of the gospel that sets it above all other agencies.
II. Christ evidenoes His power to forgive sins by visible miracles. The trans-
forming influence of grace is seen in individual character ; also in the history of
Christian missions. III. If Christ has " power on earth to forgive sins," then
Christ is Divinb. No man and no wisdom of men can ever effect the pardon and
deliverance of the transgressor. Science has no remedies strong enough to expel
the poison from the spiritual nature. By doing this Christ makes good His claim
to be Divine. IV. And if Jesus Christ has •• power on earth to forgive sins," then
IT is our duty to uroe men to go to Christ that they may receive the blessing
OF PARDON, {Monday Club Sermons. ) Sin a deep disease beyond the reach of
human remedies : — One of our modem novelists has written the story of a man
who was haunted with remorse for a particular sin, and though sometimes weeks
would pass without the thought of it, yet every now and then the ghost of the old
transgression would rise before him to his infinite discomfort. It is the story of
almost every human life. Sin is not something which a man commits and has
done with it. It becomes a part of his being. His motHl fibre is changed, his
moral stamina is weakened. A traveller soon drives tlirough the malarious air of
the Roman Campagna and is out of the poisonous atmosphere ; but during his
brief transit disease has found its way into his blood, and even though he sits
under the cool shadow of the Alps, or on the shore of the blue Mediterranean, the
inward fever rages and burns. A man sins, and in sinning introduces disease into
his moral nature, and even though he abandons his evil courses the old malady
works on. The forgiveness of sin which is so thorough and central that it rids a
70 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap. n.
man of the power and guilt of sin — who is competent to give ns that ? No speoifio
of man's devising, no course of moral treatment, can effect that. There is only
One, Jesus Christ, who has power on earth to forgive sin in that complete and
eflScient fashion. And that is His chief glory and constitutes His principal claim
upon us. It is to say but little of Him, to say that He is the wisest and purest
and best that ever lived ; that He is the perfect example ; that He is the Teacher
who makes no mistakes. I do not know Jesus Christ until I know Him in my
experience as the One who has *' power on earth to forgive sins." And that also is
the glory and the commendation of the religion of Christ's gospel. (Ibid.) Pardon
develops manlwod : — Some man who is not only morally corrupt, but also a mere nega-
tive quantity in society, experiences the renewing grace of God and comes into the
consciousness of redemption and pardon. Vastly more than a transformation of
moral character is effected. Numberless dormant powers of manhood are deve-
loped. Unsuspected strata of capacity are uncovered. Thrift and intelligence and
enterprise are bom, and the whole nature experiences a transformation akin to
that wrought in the physical world by the coming of the spring-time. There are
numbers of such men in every community. So long as they were fettered with
the consciousness of sin, all their powers and faculties were cramped ; but when
Christ spoke dehverancc from guilt, their whole affectional and intellectual being felt
the thrill and stir of a new life, and widened out and blossomed in most marveUoua
fashion. There is an infinite breadth to the assurance : '* If therefore the Son
shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed." What the Scripture calls the
••liberty" of the children of God is not the little narrow ecclesiastical matter
which so many people think it. It means affluence and opulence of life and
possibility, and when one who has long been a mere cipher in the community
branches out into all manner of healthy and handsome growths under the
quickening of the pardoning love of Christ, the greatest of miracles is wrought
before our eyes. We count it a stupendous achievement of genius when under
the cunning hand of the artist the rough block of marble grows into the perfect
statue ; but what is that compared to the transfiguration of the living man which
is so often effected by the Divine love manifesting itself in full and free and felt
forgiveness ? It is quite as marvellous as a new creation. (lUd.) The Divine
Maker of man the only Repairer of man : — The legend runs that there once stood
in an old baronial castle a musical instrument upon which nobody could play. It
was complicated in its mechanism, and during years of disuse the dust had
gathered and clogged it, while dampness and variations of temperature had robbed
the strings of their tone. Various experts had tried to repair it, but without suc-
cess, and when the hand of a player swept over the chords it woke only harsh dis-
cords and unlovely sounds. But there came one day to the castle a man of another
sort. He was the maker of the instrument, and saw what was amiss and what was
needed for its repair, and with loving care and skill he freed the wires from the
encumbering dust and adjusted those which were awry and brought the jangling
strings into tune, and then the hall rang with bursts of exquisite music. And so
with these souls of ours, so disordered by sin that everything is in confusion and
at cross purposes : it is not until their Divine Maker comes and attempts the task
of repair and re-adjustment that they can be set right and made capable of the har-
monies for which they were originally constructed. Men weary themselves in vain
with their various expedients for securing peace of mind and riddance from the
sense of guilt. Only God can give that, and when Jesus Christ accomplishes that
in us we must needs cry out to Him, " My Lord and my God." {Ibid,) Christ' »
prerogative to forgive tins : — I. Thk astounding prbbogaxive that Christ Jesus
AssuMXD. The despised and rejected man says, " The Son of Man hath power,"
Ac, •' Who can forgive sins but God only ? '* In the nature of things, it is only
He against whom the crime is committed, it is only He whose majesty is violated,
it is only He whose law is broken, that hath power to remit the penalty that He has
imposed on the transgression of His law, the infringement of His majesty and the
infraction of His authority. Even amongst the chijdren of men this is held as a
sacred and inalienable right; insomuch that mercy is the appropriate and inalien-
able prerogative of the Crown ; and no subject, however exalted he may be in place
or power, presumes to arrogate to himself — it would be high treason were he to
arrogate to himself — the power to remit the sentence of the law. The judge may
commend to mercy, the influential may interpose their interest ; but it belongs to
the sovereign to exercise the prerogative of the Crown, and to remit the sentence
that is passed. But if this prerogative even among the children-of men be inalien.
CHAP, n.] ST, MARK. 7!
able, how much more must the prerogative of the King of kings and Lord of lords,
who ** is not a man that He should lie, nor the son of man that He should repent "
— how much more must His prerogative be incommunicable, indefeasible^ inalien-
able ? ** Who can forgive sins, but God only 7 " IL The evidencb that He oath
in demonstration of His claim is clear as the noon-day sun, and as irresistible aa
the very power of God. Let us, then, see how He could substantiate so stupendous a
claim as to forgive sins — all sins ; forgive them in His own right, in His own name,
of His own authority. The position was laid down, and the argument for its
establishment was obvious. It was not intricate and dark, requiring a mighty
intellect to grasp it, or a penetrating understanding to enter into its process. It
was an appeal to every man, that had an eye to see and a mind to understand. III.
The connection between the human natube of Christ, and this wondrous prerooa-
^TivB THAT He exercised — " The Son of Man hath power on earth to forgive sins."
One might have imagined that He would rather have said in this connection, " The
Son of God hath power on earth to forgive sins ; " for surely it was only as He was
*♦ very God of very God," that He could have wielded the sceptre of the eternal
Jehovah. But there is a beautiful propriety, there is a touching and exquisite fit-
ness, in thus designating Himself "the Son of Man." Therefore it was not simply
or 80 much as the Son of God alone, that the Saviour had this wondrous preroga-
tive, but as the Son of Man, who became the Surety for sinners, who took the
manhood into Godhead that He might be the Daysman between His fallen brethren
and His unchangeable Father — that He might put His hand on both and so make
peace — that He might bring God and man to one, and yet maintain His law invio-
late. His majesty unsullied, His truth unimpeached, His justice uncompromised,
and all His attributes invested with a new and nobler lustre than the universe had
ever before beheld, or could have entered into created mind to conceive. Therefore,
brethren, it was not by a simple act of sovereignty that the Saviour forgave sins.
As the Centurion said to Paul, "With a great price bought I this freedom," so with
a great price the incarnate God bought the glorious and benign prerogative of for-
giving sins. He bought it with His agony and blood. He bought it by His meri-
torious and spotless obedience — by His glorious resurrection and ascension. By
all these He bought this glorious prerogative of forgiving sins. So that '^weare
not redeemed with corruptible things as silver or gold, but with the precious
blood of Christ, as of a lamb without blemish and without spot." Perceive you,
brethren, the momentousness and meaning of this distinction? Let me by a
simple illustration make it more clear to the plainest mind. It is conceivable that
when a sovereign had arrived at an age to assume the sceptre of a nation, and
wished to grace his accession to the throne by some act of regal munificence and
clemency, he might proclaim an universal exemption from all debts contracted by
any inhabitants of that land in days gone by. It is conceivable that he might do
this ; but if he did so, to the wrong and robbery of all the creditors of that land,
would his clemency, do you think, add to his glory ? would it give any pledge of
his justice, integrity, or even common honesty towards his subjects ? So far from
it, his clemency would be lost sight of in the injury and the wrong he had done.
But if that prince, being desirous to grace his accession to the throne by an act of
clemency, in which justice should likewise shine, were from his own private
resources to liquidate all the debts of all those imprisoned for debt throughout the
length and breadth of the land, and then throw open the prison doors, all would
applaud the deed ; all would admire the exercise of sovereign clemency in perfect
harmony with unimpeachable justice. So, if we may venture by low and earthly
things to illustrate things sublime and heavenly, the blessed Son of God, the
Prince and Saviom* of mankind, " exalted to give repentance unto Israel, and the
remission of sins," did not set the sinful debtors free, that owed to their Father
an infinite debt which they had no power to pay — which they would throughout
eternity have been paying and yet had throughout eternity to pay — He did not set
them free by a simple exercise of His own authority, violating the obligations of
law, the demands of justice, and the claims of the unfallen portion of the subjects
of an everlasting Father. But He paid the debt ; He became Surety, and He met
the claim ; He paid it to the uttermost farthing, till He could say with His expinnj^
breath, •' It is finished ! " — till He had " finished transgression, made an end of
sin and brought in everlasting righteousness." The Father, well pleased in the
full expiation accomplished by the Son, delights to forgive through that Saviour's
name — " for there is none other name under heaven given among men, whereby we
must be saved." Christian brethren, if the Son of Man had " power on earth to
72 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. n.
forgive sins," how much more, if it be possible, hath He power in heaven to
forgive sins ? {H. Stowell^ M.A.)
Ver. 12. We never saw It on this fuhlon. — The new fashion : — ^I. Do mot dis-
believe THE GosPEii BECAUSE IT suBPRiBES Tou. 1. Nothing stands in the way of
real knowledge so much as prejudice. 2. Many things which we know to be true
would not have been believed by our fathers if they had been revealed to them. 3.
There are many things which are undoubted facts which certain classes of men find
it hard to believe. 4. The fact that a gospel statement seems new and astonishing
ought not to create unbehef in the mind. II. There are vert singulab and
SURPRISING THINGS IN THE GOSPEL. 1. That the gospel should come to people
whom it regards as incapable. 2. That the gospel calls upon men to do what they
cannot do. 3. That whilst the gospel bids men do what they cannot of themselves
do, they actually do it. 4. This paralyzed man was healed— (a) at once, (6) with-
out any ceremony, (c) perfectly, (d) evidently. So is it when the gospel saves the
Boul. III. If it be so with you, then go and oLORinr God. (C H. Spurgeon.)
Prejudice a stumbling block : — Theories are the nuisances of science; the rubbish that
must be swept away that the precious facts may be made bare. If you go to the
study of a subject, saying to yourself, " This is how the matter must shape itself,"
having beforehand made up your mind what the facts ought to be, you will have put
in your own way a difiBculty more severe than the subject itself could place there.
Prejudice is the stumbling-block of advance. {Ibid.) New things may be true
things : — When an observer first discovered that there were spots on the sun he
reported it, but he was called before his father confessor and upbraided for having
reported anything of the kind. The Jesuit father said that he had read Aristotle
through several times, and he had found no mention in Aristotle of any spots in the
sun, and therefore there could be no such things. (Ibid.) The inconceivable may
be true : — If our forefathers could have been informed that men would travel at
forty or fifty miles an hour, drawn by a steam engine, they would have shaken their
heads and laughed the prediction to scorn. (Ibid.) Sense not to limit faith : —
Some time ago a missionary had told his black congregation that in the winter
time the water in England became so hard that a man could walk upon it. Now
they beheved a good deal that he told them, but they did not believe that. One of
them was brought over to England. The frost came at length, and the missionary
took his black friend down to it ; and although he stood upon the ice himself he
could not persuade the negro to venture. " No," he said, *' but I never saw it so.
I have lived fifty years in my own country, and I never saw a man walk on a river
before." {Ibid.) God's power not to be limited by human calculation : — If you are
longing for a great salvation you must not sit down and calculate the Godhead by
inches, and measure out the merit of Christ by ells, and calculate whether He can
do this or do that. {Ibid.) The most senseless limit of evidence is the limit of the
senses : — But there is a great proneness to fix just such Umits as these. Said a shrewd
pastor in Massachusetts, when a new method of church work was proposed to him
by a visiting brother, ♦' No, no, that wouldn't go down with my people ; it's too
novel. There are two objections which my people raise against any fresh thing
which I propose to them ; one is, We never tried that thing here : the other is, We
tried that here once, and it didn't go. Either of these objections is fatal."
Such people as that don't all live in Massachusetts, nor in Palestine. {H, C.
Trumbull.)
Ver. 13. And He went forth again by the Beaslde.— ^ walk by the sea :—l. It
WAS not a WALK OF ABSP:NT REVERIE. 11. It WAS NOT A WALK OF SENTIMENTAL AD-
MIRATION, ni. It was a walk hallowed by sacred teachino. We should
endeavour to make our walks subservient to the moral good of men, and in this
incidental manner we might do much to enhance the welfare of the Redeemer's
cause. (J. S. Exell, M.A.) Christian work at the seashore: — Can we not do
something for Jesus on the sands ? If so, let us not miss such a happiness. What
situation and surnmndings can be better for earnest, loving conversation with our
young friends concerning their souls' best interests ? A few words about the sea of
eternity and its greet deeps, a sentence or two upon the broken shells and our
frailty, upon the Rook of Ages and the sands of time, may never be forgotten, es-
pecially if they be but few, and those pleasant, solemn, and congruous with the
occasion. A good book lent to a lounger may also prove a blessing. A handful of
interesting pamphlets scattered discreetly may prove to be fruitful seed. Souls
CHAP. II.] ST. MARK. 78
are to be oaagbt by the seashore and in the boat : gospel fisherman, take yoornet
with you. (C. H. Spur g eon.)
Vers. 14, 15. And as He passed by, He saw Levi, the son of Alphssna, slttinir at
tbe receipt of custom. — The call of Matthew : — The story is placed immediately after
a miracle, as if to hint that Matthew's conversion was a miracle. There are points
of similarity between the miracle and the conversion. Matthew was spiritnaily
palsied by his sins and his money-making ; hence he needed the Divine command,
*• Arise and walk." There may be points of likeness also between Matthew's personal
story and oar own. These may be profitably considered. I. His caIiL seemed
ACciDBNTAii AND UNLIKELY. 1. Jcsus had often been at Capernaum, which He had
selected to be ** His own city ; " and yet Matthew remained unsaved. Was it likely
he would now be called? Had not his day of grace closed? 2. Jesus was about
other business ; for we read, " As He passed by." Would He now be likely to call
Matthew ? 3. Jesus left many other persons uncalled ; was it not highly probable
thft^ jthft tftx.gq.thftrer would be passed b;^ ? Yet Jesus called to' Himself, ** Levi, the
Pgnof AlphaBus," while m^y' anotE'er man Had rio suchspeciaTcall. Iir~EKg~cALL~'
WASlCLTTOBTH'EB UN THOUGHT OB"" INI) TS^^tfGSWF. 1. He was in a degrading busmesa.
None but the lowest of tbe Jews would care to gather taxes for the Boman con-
queror. His discipleabip. Wv)uld bring no honour tp Christ. 2. He was in an en-
snaring business. Money is bird-lime to the soul. 3. He wouW npt_have.iiatad-kju.
follow Jesus even if he had wished to do so. ,He felt himself 'to be too unworthy.
4. He would have been repulsed by the otherSTsciples, had he proposed to come
without the Lord's open invitation. 6. Me made no sign in the direction of Jesus, z*"^
No prayer was offered by him, nor wish expressed towards better things. III. His fu^ j
CALL WAS GIVEN BY THE LORD, WITH PULL KNOWLEDGE OP HIM. ** He SaW Levi," and ^«- — ^
called him. 1. He saw all the evil that bad been in him and was yet there. 2. He
saw his adaptation for holyLBervice/as a recordei^nd penman^ 3. He saw all that
He meant to make of him, 4. He saw m him tf^cEos^STffii' redeemed, gis eon-^
^^rt. His disciple. His apostle, His biographer. liry-Lordi calls as He pleasegrbntT
He sees what fle is doing. Sovereignty is not blind ; but acts with boundless
wisdom. IV. His call was oraciously coNDESCKNDiNa. 1, The Lord called " Levi,
the son of Alphaeus." or, as he himself says, " a man named Matthew," — that was
his best. 2. He was a publican — that may not have been his worst. 3. He allowed
fluch a sinner to be His personal attendant ; yea, called him to that honour, saying,
«L* Foljow Jlf g." 4. He allowed him to do this immediately, without putting him into
quaraiatme. V. His call was sublimely bxhplb. 1. Few were the words — " Follow
Me." It is very tersely ranrvri\p,i{ — »» Rft bhw . . . aaj^ . . . and he arose and fol-
^p^we4 iPftn/* 2. Clear was the direction. 3. Personal was the address. 47 BoyaT'
was the command. YI. His call was immediately eppectual. 1. Matthew fol-
lowed at once. 2. Ho followed spiritually as well as literally. 3. He followed
wholly. 4. He followed growingly. 5. He followed ever after, never deserted his
Leader. VII. His call wA8^.^^^flQBu qil hobr job ^thbbs. 1. His salvation en-
couraged other publicans to come to Jesuil 2". ±iis open nouse gave opportunity
to his friends to hear Jesus. 3. His personal ministry brought others to the
Saviour. 4. His written Gospel has convinced many, and will always do so. Apph-
cation: Are jyoM u:BJLQ-gaHr neck in business? Are yoa " sitting at the jeoeipt-of
csstom '•^? Yet may_a call come to you at once. It does come. Hear it atten-
tively ; rise earnestly ;" respond immediately. {C 37 Spurg'eott-^ Call of Levi: —
Such as sit at the receipt of custom are hard to be tiohverted ; but Jesus manifests
His power by doing it with one word alone. Grace disengages Matthew from the
love of money, to make him an apostle ; the love of money will separate Judas
from Christ, to make him an apostate : thus our Lord makes Himself amends before-
hand. St. Matthew's example had no influence on Judas, though perhaps it was
Christ's design to lay it before his eyes. Let us profit by the one as well as the
other; and let us, with fear and trembling, adore the different judgments of God in
relation to souls. {Quesnel.) Calls to duty joyful : — When the Saviour calls,
follow Him gladly. Never regret a duty, or lament a responsibility, or grieve over
a sacrifice required. If we were as wise as Matthew, we should celebrate with
festive joy every call to duty. {R. Olover.) The attraction of the Divine call : —
We read in classic story, how the lyre of Orpheus enchanted with its music, not
only the wild beasts, but the very trees and rocks upon Olympus, so that they
moved from their places to follow him ; so Christ, our heavenly Orpheus, with the
music of His gracious speech, draws after Him those less susceptible to benign
74 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. ix.
influences than beasts, and trees, and stones, even poor, hardened, senseless, sinful
Bouls. Let Him but strike His golden harp, and whisper in thy heart, " Come,
follow Me," and thou, like another Matthew, shalt be won. The call of Levi : —
Well might he sit down here ; for he had a great weight upon him, the burden of
his covetousness, and the desires of gold, bred in him by the often traffic he had
with it. Gold is heaviest of all metals ; but it is made more heavy by covetous-
nesB. For it more oppresses the heart of him that loves it, than the back of him
that bears it. And where was he sitting? At the receipt of custom. " If it be
more blessed to give than to receive," certainly to be a receiver of extorted oppres-
sion from the grudging people must be no happy nor blessed thing. This custom •
bouse was such. The receiving of custom breeds a custom of receiving ; and that»
a desire still to receive more ; which desire worldly men will ever seek to satisfy,
though with the oppression of their poor brethren. This made this place and office
hateful to the people. ** Pubhcans and sinners " went ever together in their mouths.
. . . Christ found him, as he was Levi, the publican ; but looked on him, as he
was Matthew, the apostle. ... He called him to an office much more gain-
ful .. . where he should still be a receiver, and a gainer too ; but not, as here, ten
or fifteen per centun^;-b»t-where one should ♦♦ bring forth thirty, one sixty, one an
hundred-fold." l^Prn. Atistin.)^ God often calls men in strange places : — Not in
the house of prayerHQot4n the preaching of the Word ; but when all these things
have been absent, and all surrounding circumstances have seemed most adverse to
the work of grace, that grace has put forth its power. The tavern, the theatre, the
gaming-house, the race-course, and other similar haunts of worldliness and sin,
have gnTnpf|iTn^ff jj^flan thfl scene of God's converting^grace. As an old writer says,
•• Our oallmg is uncertam xh fBuyuul uf plttUe, fOF CroS^atls some from their ships,
and some from their shops ; some from under the hedges, and others from the
market ; so tiiat, if a man can but make out unto his own soul that he is certainly
called, Uie time when and the place where matter little." The call of Levi^ or
Christ's voice to the soul : — I. That Christ calls men to follow Him. 1. That the
call of Christ is antecedent to any human endeavour after Him. 2. That it is
often effectively addressed to the most unlikely men. 3. That it is addressed to
men when they are occupied with the secular duties of life. 4. That it takes men
from the lower duties and sends them to the higher. U. That Christ's call to mbk
MUST BB iMMEDUTELY OBEYED — '* And he arosc and followed Him. "1. That obedience
must be immediate. (1) Not to be hindered by intellectual perplexities. (2) Not
to be hindered by commercial or domestic anxieties. 2. That obedience must be
self-sacrificing. 3. That it must be willing. 4. That it must be continuous. Learn :
1. To heed the calls of Christ to the soul. 2. To subordinate the secular to the
moral. 3. That true religion consists iQ_following Christ. 4. That it is well to
speak to men for their moral good. "^tTT^TlSxell, M.I^ Matthew the 'publican : —
iiJasI tiiat the son of a devout. God-fearing Israelite should have fallen so low.
Even tiie outcasts, the sons of Belial, hesitated long before they thus sold them-
selves to work iniquity. But he had gone freely and voluntarily into the service of
the heathen. A father's stem commands, a mother's earnest pleadings, the en-
treaties of a loving sister and the expostulations of manly and pure-hearted brothers,
the fair fame of the family, upon whose proud escutcheon no such blot had ever
come since the days of their great ancestor, David — all these were of no avail to
turn this wayward young man &om the evil course he had chosen, and at length his
name had been blotted from their record and, to all outward seeming, he was to
them as if he had never lived. The neighbours and friends left out his name when
they spoke of the children of Klopas (as in Mark vi. 3), and at morning and even-
ing prayer no audible petition went up to heaven for the erring and sinful one. But,
hardened as he was, and great as was the distress he had given to his family, Levi
was not beyond the free grace of the Eedeemer of men. Jesus was his cousin,
according to the flesh, and though He knew how the hearts of that dear family at
Nazareth were breaking with anguish over him as utterly lost, yet He, the Divine
Redeemer, did not despair of his recovery from the depth of his degradation and
sin. Having loved him with an everlasting love, He would draw him out of the
depths by the power of His loving-kindness. And so it came to pass that when
Jesus had left Nazacreth and the home of His youth for busy, bustling Capernaum,
because there He could accomplish a more comprehensive and effective work in
establishing the kingdom of God on the earth. His eye more than once rested on
poor Levi, and He saw that, in spite of his bravado, his sins were making him
wretched. And when on that bright summer morning He went from Peter's honst
CHAP. II.] ST. MARK. H
to His work of teaching and healing at the shore of the lake, as He passed the stall
or booth where Levi was receiving the tolls and taxes, He said only, " Follow me ; "
and the tax-gatherer, a few moments ago so hardened and brusque, instantly aban-
doned his books and accounts, his money and receipts, and, rising from his seat,
lollowed Jesus. Nor did he ever return to the base employment he had left. The ^
change of heart and purpose, though apparently instantaneous, was thorougK and ^
permanent. One evicfence of its tnorougFne¥s was'mamfesledTn his desfre to bring""
others" wHo"trad--ialten-"ihto jthe Bame'degVadatiorr as himself tinker' thg'gfffciDTrg-
influencToI ChiisfrtgacEIngs. " " And' Levi made "HTin''(i."«.,Chrrs^^^ the"
evangelist Lukg, " ft great feast in his own house ; and there was a great company of
publicans and of others that sat down with them." To these sinful souls our blessed
Lord spoke words of forgiveness and pardon, and they became, as St. Mark tells,
His followers thenceforward. As for Matthew, he undoubtedly grew in grace, and
was restored to the loving favour of his ^""lilvji^r it wan, at the farthest, but a
very few months later f.Viat Jagna-^l^nQo h^m ^gj^mSbf the twelve, and with him ^wn,
and po8siMyJhree_otJbij^^otheM, thi>_deyou James the Just being
one, and gave him his new name '* Majjlifig^" "The gift of God/[ Matthew's
remembrance of his early history and sins seems To have tept'lElm humblerand
have prevented him from participating in those unseemly wrangles as to who should
be the greatest, in which some of the others indulged ; but he was a keen observer,
and from the day when he abandoned his publican's stall to his death he must have
felt more profoundly than any of the others the certainty that Jesus was the Son of
God as well as the Son of Mary. Some practical lessons : L Familt pbidb is not
▲ SUFFICIENT PBESEBVATIVS lailNST DEEDS OF SHAHX. II. HaS DISHONOUB BEEN
BBouoHT UPON YouB FAMILY NAMs BT A PEODioAL? Do not despair of him. You
have a great burden of shame and grief to bear; but do not cease to love the
prodigal, to pray for him, to hope for him. He, like St. Matthew, may yet hear and
obey the voice of Christ. 1. If yon did your best to train him in the way in which
he should go, be very sure that the healthful influences by which yon surrounded him
are still with him, fighting mightily against the degrading influence by whioh he is
now encompassed, and they may yet prevail. Not in vain did you do your duty in
regard to him. 2. Ah, but it may be that yon cannot recall the days of his boy-
hood without personal shame. You permitted many things to prevent you from
training him duly in godliness and true manliness ; the example you set before him
was not really ennobling. Well, humble yourself before God, and hope in God for
your son as well as for yourself. He may yet yield to the persistent drawings of the
Divine love. III. No man shouiiD pebmit his business ob his social subboundinos
TO HINDEB HIM FBOM FOLLOWING ChEIST. IV. OnE OF THE VEBT BEST EVIDENCES OF
A man's CONVXBSION is a BEAL MANIFESTATION OF CABE FOB TCTwjpTTtTTrriT. wiyT.y^w OF
THOSE OF HIS OWN CLASS. (^71071.) The Call of Levj.'—I.&he pebson called.^ A
publioon, Ae. II. The mannebjii which he is called. 1. Externally— by the Word.
2. Internally — by Christ's power and Spirit. 8. These two must ever be combined.
III. The manneb in which Levi tbeated the gall. 1. He did not disregard it, as
many. 2. He did not promise a compliance hke others- .S. He inRtRntly obeyed,
and is thus an example to all who are called. <iy. 'IgK call ixsEug) Christ goes
before — L To prepare Himself for sympathy. 2^" JC!Lrj^*52l£3ouSts as fo the way.
8. " To free from oppfessive responsibility. 4. To show'how we'T^reTowalk in tfie"
way." 5. To remove obstructions. 6. To be a companion. Are you following
Christ T Expository Discourses.) The feast of Levi, or the festival of a renewed
soul : — I. It was a festival held to celebbate the most impoetant event in the
HisTOBY OF A SOUL. 1. It was indicative of joy. 2. It was indicative of gratitude.
S. It was indicative of worship. The newly converted soul is characterized by
devotion. II. It was held to intboduce to Chbist those who webe in need of
His loving mercy. 1. It was a time for the introduction of sinful companions to
Christ. 2. It was a time of leave-taking between Levi and his former friends. Not
to leave the old life in a hostile spirit. IH. It was a festival too lofty in moral
sionificancb to be biohtly interpbeted by the conventional bigots of the age.
IV. It was a festival beautifully illustrative of Chbist's mission to the wobld.
1. We see from this festival that Christ came to save the morally Rinfnl 9 x^ft-
£ee_ frogx this. festiysJ that Christ'^came to heaTtEe mnmllv ^^iBfiftflfM^ Lessons :
1. That thelifeo£ the renewed soursEould be a constant festival oiLjoy:.^ 2. That
Christians ihould en^pftynnr t.n hrinpr thpjr comradea to the Savionr. 3. That
humanity has a Divine Physician. (J. S. Exell, M.A,
\ THE BIBLICAL ILLVSTRATOR. [chap. n.
y«T. 16. And when the Bcrlbes and FharlseeB saw Him eat with pnbllcana and
sinners. — The curse o/Jjifliztry-.:3scTlie-sia8 society- winka at arpi wnrRR than ^ose it
censures. , The most alarming sin is_the self- delusion. that wfi.>'«^ft "f* r^'"^ The
ePr^~
pride of the Pharisees Had made themso callous tTiat a sharp lancet was needed to
get at the wound. I. Bigotby bespatters with mire the eaibest deed. According
to its creed, better that a tree of fruitful goodness should not grow than that it
should depart by a hairbreadth from the prescribed shape. II. Biootby bmndfolds
ITS own eyes. It can only see sin when sin wears a particular hue. It can sea
avarice or theft, but not insincerity or pride. III. Bigotry seeks its bad knds Bt
ceooked ways. These scribes lacked courage, so instead of attacking Christ openly
they tried to undermine His authority with His disciples. IV. Bigotry cheats
XTSEiiF 07 laboest blebsino. Christ would have illuminated and enriched these
proud Pharisees if they had allowed Him to. But they were too proud to admit
their hunger, and so they starved. He who thinks himself already perfect is past
improvement. Like hide-bound animals he cannot grow. {D. Davies,M.A.) An
implied churge set aside : — Negatively: 1. That Christ did not associate with pub-
licans and sinners because He entertained too humble an opinion of Himself. He
knew that He was intellectually and morally superior to them. 2. That Christ did
not associate with publicans and sinners because He was not choice as to His
society. *♦ Evil communications corrupt good manners." 3. That Christ did not
associate with publicans and sinners because of His sympathy with them. It was
not their wickedness that drew Him to them ; morally He had nothing in common
with them. Positively : 1. That to have refused Levi's invitation would not have
been courteous. 2. That in accepting Levi's invitation Christ displayed a spirit of
condescension. 8. That by eating and drinking with publicans and sinners Christ
exhibited a friendly disposition towards them. 4. That attending Levi's feast
gave Christ an excellent opportunity of doing Publicans and sinners good. {G.
Cron.) Christ's relatioriM toith the world ;--To come, then, to the root of the
whole matter ; the supreme Lover of the universe, God, is in the tenderest rela-
tions to everything that is. Not that we are to make no difference between good
and evil. We are to make a difference between them. If we have the spirit of the
Lord Jesns Christ our goodness will make us more lenient, more charitable, more
patient with bad men and bad things. And remember one thing — that no human
heart is ever cured till yon can find another heart to brood it ; for the cure of the
heart is of the heart, and a loving heart cures an unloving heart ; and as God lives
by His purity to make more pure, by His love to heal men's selfishness, by His
beauty and majesty and power to draw men up out of animal life into spiritual life;
so His followers may imitate Him in those respects, and make atonement for those
who are ready to perish— the atonement that love is always making— and as far as
they carry that out they may redeem men. {H. W. Beecher.) Christ welcoming
sinners : — ^We are told that in stormy weather it is not unusual for small birds to
be blown out of sight of land on to the sea. They are often seen by voyagers out
of their reckoning and far from the coast, hovering over the masts on weary wings
as if they wanted to alight and rest themselves, but fearing to do so. A traveller
tells us tl»t on one occasion a little lark, which followed the ship for a considerable
distance, was at last compelled through sheer weariness to alight. He was so worn
out as to be easily caught. The warmth of the hand was so agreeable to him that
he sat down on it, burying his little cold feet in his feathers, and looking about
with his bright eye not in the least afraid, and as if feeling assured that he h&i.
been cast amongst good kind people whom he had no occasion to be so backward in
trusting. A touching picture of the soul who is aroused by the Spirit of God and
blown out of its own reckoning by the winds of conviction ; and the warm reception
which the weary little bird received at the hands of the passengers conveys but a
faint idea of that welcome which will greet the worn-out, sin-sick souls who will
commit themselves into the hands of the only Saviour. (C. H. Spurgeon.) Christ
in company with sinners ; or, the law of social intercourse in the Christian life : — We
have in this narrative a beautiful illustration of the law of social intercourse in tha
Christian life, given by Christ, and which, therefore, may be regarded as of
authority. We observe — I. That ths morally good must associate with thb
BOOiALiiT DKPBATKD. *' How IS it that He eateth and drinketh with publicans and
sinners t '* 1. That the morally good may take part in the eocial festivals of tha
depraved, but not for the mere purpose of social enjoyment or intellectual com<
panionship. Christ did not go to the house of Levi merely to enjoy a sumptuous
Mttqnet, or to participate in the festivities of unholy men. 2. The morally good
flHAP. II.] ST. MARK 7t
may associate with the depraved in the commercial enterprise of life. The good
mast have dealings with the unholy in the commerce of the world. The tares and
the wheat must grow together until the harvest. 3. The morally good are some-
times brought into incidental companionship with the depraved. II. That thb
MORALLY GOOD IN COMPANIONSHIP WITH THE SOCIALLY £EPRAVED MUST BE AMIMATED BY
BEMEDIAL MOTIVES, AND MUST QIVB FORTH INFLUENCES Ba^NOBLINO TO THB SOUL. "They
that are whole have no need of the physician, but they that are sick." 1. The
Christian must go into the company of the morally depraved with right views of
their sad condition, and with an intense desire for their recovery. 2. The Christian
can give forth healing influences to the morally depraved by kindly words, by gentla
disposition, by judicious teaching, and by unpretentious example. Lessons: 1,
That the morally good must go into the company of the socially depraved. 2. That
the morally good are the physicians of the race ; they must be careful not to take
the infection of sin, and to exercise judiciously their healing art. 8. That society
will best be regenerated by individual effort. (J. S. Exell, M.A.)
Ver. 17. They that are jthgje have no need of the physician.— i^or vfhom is ths
gospel meant f — I. Even a superficial glance at our Lord's mission suffices to show
that His work was fob the sinful. His descent into the world implied that men
needed deliverance. The bearing of the gospel covenant is towards guilty men.
His mission is described as one of mercy and grace. The gospel turns its face
always towards sin. The gospel has always found its greatest trophies amongst
the most sinful. To whom else could it look ? II. The more closely wb look the
MORE clear this FACT BECOMES. Christ came that He might be a sin-bearer. The
gifts of the gospel, such as pardon and justification, imply sin. The great deeds of
our Lord, such as His death, resurrection, and ascension, all bear upon sinners.
III. It is oub wisdom to accept the situation. Thf very best thing you can do,
since the gospel looks towards sinners, is to get where the gospel looks. You will
then be in your right place. This is the safest way to obtain the blessing. This j
is a place into which you can get directly. IV. This doctrine has a obbat sancti-
FYiNQ influence. It changcs the sinner's thoughts d God. It inspires, meltsj
enUvens, and inflames him. It deals a deadly blow at h's self-conceit. It produce/
a sense of gratitude. It giakes him^eady to forgive others. It becomes the vei
soul of enthusiasm. ^(C. H. SpiiFgeon.J \ Chris fs treatment of sinners
I. Sinners in their natuRal btai'id uavjii Mimo of repentance. This duty is often
urged in Scripture (Isaiah Iv. 7 ; Matt. iii. 8 ; Acts ii. 3P). 1. Without repentance
none can be saved. 2. Let all, therefore, lay hold on it v/ithout delay. II. Sinnbbs
CANNOT bepent OF THEMSELVES. They must be called to it by Christ. IIL Onk
MAIN END OF OhBIST's COMING INTO THE WORLD WAS TO CALL AND CONVERT SINNERS,
AND bbing them TO REPENTANCE. 1. This should encourage sinners to come to
Christ by faith, and by true repentance and humiliation for their sins, in hope of
mercy and pardon. Since He came for this purpose, He will not reject any who
accept His invitation and hearken to His calL 2. How excellent a work it must be
— since Christ Himself came to begin it — to be the means of converting sinners,
and drawing them to repentance. This is not merely the duty of ministers : all
Christians may take part in it. 3. If Christ came to call sinners to repentance,
then He did not come to give liberty to any to live in sin, or to commit sin.
Repentance is the beginning of a new life — a life of emancipation from the power
as well as the penalty of sin. (G. Petter.) All th lessons of this word could not
be even named here, but these are certainly in it. ^L Sin is sickness of the worst
kind. II. Repe^itance and forgiveness are the heahng of the soul. HI. Christ is
i h^ Soul's Physician, skilled to heal all its diseases. IV. The more grave our case
is, the more eager Jesus is to cure it. What should we have done had this not
been the case? Happily He still stoops to closest, tenderest fellowship with
sinners. He pities most the guiltiest, and ia ever nearest to the neediest. {R.
Olover.) Christ's call : — I. Christ came not to oall the righteous. 1. Because
there were no righteous to call. 2. Because if there had been they would not have
needed caUing. H. He came to call sinners. 1. All sinners. 2. Especially
those conscions oi their sins. lU. He came to call to repentance. His call is
not an absolute oall to the privileges of the sons of God, but to the fulfilment of a
condition — repent, and believe. (Anon,) Wr tchedness a plea for salvation ;—
On entering a ragged school you see a boy who can spell his way through a Bible-^
once a sealed book to him ; he knows now of a Saviour, of whom once he had
never heard the nama. Clean, sharp, intelligent, bearing an honest air with him.
78 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. n.
he bespeaks your favour. But were these his passport to the asylum ? No. He
was adopted not for the sake of these, but notwithstandiug the want of them. It
was his wretchedness that saved him ; the clean hands, and the rosy cheeks, and
all that won our favour, are the results of that adoption. {Dr. Guthrie.) The
spirit in which to seek salvation: — On one occasion, when the late Duke of Kent
expressed some concern about the state of his soul in the prospect of death, hia
physioan endeavoured to soothe his mind by referring to his high respectability
and hia honourable conduct in the distinguished situation in which Providence had
placed him ; but he stopped him short, saying, *• No ; remember, if I am to be
saved, it is not as a prince, but as a sinner." The sinner's Itope : — A Hottentot
of immoral character, being under deep conviction of sin, was anxious to know how
to pray. He went to his master, a Dutchman, to consult with him ; but his
master gave him no encouragement. A sense of his wickedness increased, and ha
had no one near to direct him. Occasionally, however, he was admitted with the
family at the time of prayer. The portion of Scripture which was one day read
was the parable of the Pharisee and publican. While the prayer of the Pharisee
was read, the poor Hottentot thought within himself, ♦* This is a good man; here
is nothing for me ; " but when his master came to the prayer of the publican —
** God, be merciful to me, a sinner "— •• This suits me," he cried ; " now I know
how to pray." With this prayer he immediately retired, and prayed night and
day for two days, and then found peace. Full of joy and gratitude he went into
the fields, and, as he had no one to whom he could speak, he exclaimed, •' Ye hills,
ye rocks, ye trees, ye rivers, hear what God has done for my soul 1 He has been
merciful to me, a sinner." The great Physician and His patients: — This was
Christ's apology for mingling with the publicans and sinners when the Pharisees
murmured against Him. He triumphantly cleared Himself by showing that,
according to the fitness of things, He was perfectly in order. He was acting
accordmg to His oflicial character. A physician should be found where there is
work for him to do, <fec. I. Mercy obaciously eboabds sin as disbabk. It is more than
disease, but mercy leniently and graciously chooses to view it as such. It is justified
in such ajiew, for almost everything that may be said of deadly maladies may be said
of sin. /j«j^iD is mi h«re^tary disease. The taint is in our blood, &o. 2. Sin, like
sickness; TOvery'cGsaWing^ Ilpre^pts oiir seryingjGrod. We"cannot pray or praise
God aright, &c. There is nota single moral power of manhood which sin has not
stripped of its strength and glory. 3, Sin also, like certain diseases, is a very
loathsome thing. 4. Fearfully polluting. Everything we do and think of grows
polluted through our corruption. 6, Contagious. A man cannot be a sinner alone.
** One sinner destroyeth much good." 6. Very painful ; and yet, on the other
hand, at certain stages it brings on a deadness, a numbness of soul, preventing
pain. Most men are unconscious of the misery ofthfiJall. But when sin is really
discerned, then it becomes painful indeed. Oh, whaf wretchedness was mine
before I laid hold on Christ. 7. It is deep-seated, and has its throne in the heart.
The skill of physicians can often extract the roots of disease, but no skill can ever
reach this. It is in its own nature wholly incurable. Man cannot cure himself.
Jehovah Rophi, the healing Lord, must manifest His omnipotent power. 8. It is
a mortal disease. It kills not just now, but it will kill ere long. H. It pleases
Divine mercy to give to Christ the character of a physicun. Jesus Christ never
came into the world merely to explain what sin is, but to inform us how it can be
removed. As a Physician Christ is — 1. Authorised, 2. QuaUfied. He is, experi-
mentally as well as by education, qualified in th^ Jbealing art. — 5.-HaaJBL-wide
practice. 4. His cures arejgifia4Xjj»^.cal4„8ure. I His medicine is Himself.j O
•RlPHRfl^ T>|^yj,^'^;o« #^> *,Mr^jispeTate "disease F III. i'hat ni^ft is that alonb
whicJ*move8 ouB oRAcTous PhySICIAN TO COM^fiT'To OUR AID. His Saviourship is
based upon our sinnership. Need, need alone, is that which quickens the Physician's
footsteps. IV. It follows therefore, and the text positively asserts it, that thb
WHOLE — THAT THOSE WHO HAVE NO GREAT NEED, NO NEED AT ALL — WILL BE TTNAXDEO
BY Christ. V. It follows, then, that those who are sick shall be helped by
Jesus. Are yqn^^aek, ulni^l, &o. T He loves to save. He can save the vilest.
Trust Him. (jp. H. Spurgiim^ The Healer of souls : — It is one of the most
remarkable facf&te tbfi ITTS of our Lord that He was obliged repeatedly to defend
Himself for loving the sinful. It is a fact by which we may measure the usual
progress of the world under the infiuence of Christian civilization. Now, philan-
thropy is generally practised and held in high esteem. Yet we do Christ's censors
injustice by looking on them as rare monsters of inhumanity. They were simply
CHAP, n.] ST, MARK, 7»
men whose ihoughts and gympathies were dominated by the spirit of their age.
For the love of the sinfol was a new thing on the earth, whose appearance marked
the beginning of a new era, well called the era of grace. Never was apology more
felicitous pr jqccessful — Christ was a Physician. The defence is simple and irre-
sistible, fl. THAT^iJHRIS'nAyiTY IS^BEFOBB ALL THINGS A RBLIOION OF BBDEMPTION]^
If such be its character^ then to be true to itselTXIhrisiianity cannot afford to Be
nice, dainty, disdainful, but must lay^Jt8.Jiealiiig..hand on the most repulsiva^
Rabbinism may be exclusive, but not the religion of redemptibff. It is biound tobe
a religion for the masses. Christ is not merely an ethical Teacher, or Bevealer of
Divine mysteries ; He ii, in the first place, a Bedeemer, only in the second the
Revealer. II. That Chbistianitt is thb bblioion of hope. It takes a cheerful
view of the capabilities and prospects of man even at his worst. It believes that
he can be cured. In this hopefulness Christianity stood alone in ancient times.
It needed the eye of a more than earthly love, and of a faith that was the evidence of
things not seen, to discern possibilities of goodness even in the waste places of
society. The.X)h3Kch_must Jb_ave the FhyBicitJQ's confidence in His healing art'
' 6e inventive^ ,_SJ^Q musf have 8ympamy~Wltll"pBPple for their'gdod^ ' She
thezeaToflEose wEb would try new experiments. iH. Chbis-
y ust not gQjm on the zeaToi those who would try new experiments
tianitt is fit and wobthy to ;iiKTHE universal behgion. (A, B. Brucef DJ).)
The sickness — tJie Physician :'^1, The sickness spoken of. 1. The likenesi
between the sickness of the body afid that of the soul. As sickness is a disordered
body, so is sin a precious soul all in disorder. Sickness of body, not healed, will
kill the body. Sin, not healed, not pardoned, will kill the never-dying soul. Or,
talie^any of the^garticiiarjdiseasesjwhich Christ healed on the earth, and see the
likenesTftrthemTHe healed madnessT^Biii is madness — flying in the face of God.
He healed fevers. Sin is a fever — consuming, burning the soul. He healed palsies.
Sin is a palsy — laying the soul prostrate. He healed leprosy. Sin is a leprosy —
very foul and loathsome. He healed deafness, blindness. The sinner is deaf,
blind — deaf to the voice of God and of his own conscience — ^blind to all it most
concerns him to see— to himself, God, Christ. 2. WeU, sin is like disease ; but
see the difference : sickness is usually one disease. Sin is all diseases in one---the
madness, the fever, the deafness, all in one ! Men wish to be free of sickness of body.
Alas I they do not wish to >be<free of sin, the disease of the soizi. Sickness is
disease ; sin is crime — sin. /^II. jIhe globious Physician. 1. Let me say of Him —
there is no other. If you a¥e sick in body you have a choice of physicians. But
for the terrible sickness of sin none but Christ — •• Neither is there sadvation in any
other," Ac. There needs no other. 2. That He knows our whole case^^nr whole
diseaie, and so is able to deal with it. Other physicians have often to work in the
dark, xhey are nnoefUtiffwhat the disease is, and, if they know, may be unable
to heaL 8. That He is unspeakably tender. What else but love could have
brought Him into this leprous world? 4. That He is a mighty, all-skilful
Physician. 5. That He is a faithful Physician. He will not skin over your wound
and say that it is healed — "I'^j^f^^"^^ '^Ifi" vil^ I give^pu," 6. He is a Physician
very near at hand — *• A very present help in^lkrouble." (C. J. Brown, D.D.)
Christ calling sinners to repentance : — The call of St. Matthew the occasion of
these words. I. The obsebvations natubally abisino fbom the sevebal pabti-
cuLAB KXPBESSI0N8 MADE USE OF IN THB TEXT. 1. That sin is to the soul what
disease or sickness is to the body. 2. That repentance is not an original and
primary duty of religion, only of secondary intention, and of consequential obliga-
tion. The original duty of all rational creatnrftH ia to obQj tbo cgmTT^ffTlf^"^*^"^'* Q^
God, a^ such as have always lived in obedience are not obliged to the duty of
repentance! IT applies to those who have sinned. It is a privilege to them to be
permitted to perform '* (VitiP ^' "*")" There is a repentance to which even the
best of men are continually obliged. But this is not that repentance to which oar
Saviour came to call sinners. 3. The just and sharp reproof contained in thii
answer to the hypocritical Pharisees. II. The genebal doctrine of rbpentancb
AS HEBE LAID DOWN BY ouB LoRD. The design of His preaching was to call
sinners to repentance. (S. Clarke, D.D.) Moral sickness : — For as the natural
health of the body consists in this : that every part and organ regularly and duly
piriforms its proper function ; and, when any of these are disordered or perverted
in their operations, »Vi<^rQ '^'?en?B c^jpVT^Qc.c; ov/^ /Ho/^«oao . gg likewise, with regard to
the spiritual or moral state of the mind and soul ; when every faculty is employed
in its natural and proper mnnner, and with a just direction to the end it wa?
designed for ; when the understaudin^ judges of things according to reason and
60 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [ohaf. n.
trnth, without jwrtialitv and without prejudice ; when the will is in its action?
directed by this judgment of right, without obstinacy or wilfulness ; and when the
passions in their due subordinate station, and the appetites under the government
of sober intention, serve only to quicken the execution of what reason directs : then
is the mind of man sound and whole ; fit for all the operations of a rational
creature, fit for the employments of a virtuous and religious life. On the contrary,
the abuse or misemployment of any of these faculties, is the disease or sickness of
the soul. And when they are all of them perverted, totally and habitually, by a
general corruption and depravation of manners ; then, as the body, by an incapacity
of all its organs for the uses of natural life, dies and is dissolved ; so the man in
his moral capacity, by an habitual neglect and dislike of all virtuous practices,
becomes (as the Scripture elegantly expresses it) dead in trespasses and sins And
as, in bodily diseases, some are more dangerous, and more likely to prove mortal,
than others ; in which sense our Saviour says concerning Lazarus, " This sickness
is not unto death " (John xi. 4) ; so, in the spiritual sense, the same apostle St.
John, in his First Epistle, speaks of sins, which, according as there be any or no
hope of men recovering from them, either are or are not unto death (1 John v. 16).
{Ibid.) Christ came to call the sinner : — Christ came to call not. the righteous,
but sinners to repentance. The schoolmaster does not gather the finest scholars in
the country into his school, and try to teach them ; he takes those who know little
or nothing and educates them. The gardener does not bind- up the strong, hardy
plants ; it is those that are weak and slender, those that have been broken down by
the wind, that he trains to the pcle or to the wall. It is the sick people, not the
well people, who need the physician. No one can be too great a sinner to be
beyond the need of Jesus ; it was to save sinners that Jesus came. {The Sunday
School Times.) T^" "'^^'"e <iPd caya^^^^fy (\f "t'^piJ mnr, -—Tk-^ r^^'^S *" ^hft IftWfff^-
afrn-tnTp nf biinnnTi rfl.tnrft, (Thriat fTuvft a. nftw idni^ flf \y\p. vn1nft^t>£-^«uM»-^Pro hnjjt. ^
,Hpgdom oot-ot-thej£lus.e^or^ciety.^ Tqcompare small things with great, .it has
'been pointedoutbyLord MacaulajjJjSL in an Enghsh catEeSral tHere is an
exquisite. 8_tainea'"^mdow wiiich was made by an apprentice out of the pieces of
glass which had~been refected by his master, and it was so far superior to every
other in the church, that, according to tradition, the envious artist killed himself
with vexation. All the builders of society had rejected the •' sinners," and made
the painted window of the " righteous." A new Builder came ; His plan was
original, startling, revolutionary ; His eye was upon the condemned material ; He
made the first last, and the last first, and the stone which the builders rejected.
He made the headstone of the comer. He always especially cared for the rejected
stone. Men had always cared for the great, the beautiful, the *' righteous " ; it was
left for Christ to care for " sinners." {Dr. Parker.) Christ an authorised Phrjsi-
dan : — When a physician presents himself, one of the first inquiries is, •• Is he a
regular practitioner? Has he a right to practise? Has he a diploma?" Very
properly, the law requires that a man shall not be allowed to hack our bodies and
poison us with drngs at his own pleasure without having at least a show of know-
ing what he is at. It has been tartly said that " a doctor is a man who pours drugs,
of which he knows little, into a body of which he knows still less." I fear that is
often the case. Still a diploma is the best safeguard mortals have devised. Christ
has the best authority for practising as a Physician. He has a Divine diploma.
Would you like to see His diploma ? I will read you a few words of it : it comes
from the highest authority, not from the College of Physicians, but from the God
of Physicians. Here are the words of it in the sixty-first chapter of Isaiah — " The
Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because the Lord hath anointed me to preach good
tidings unto the meek. He hath sent me to bind up the broken-hearted." He has
a diploma for binding up broken hearts. I should not like to trust myself to a
physician who was a mere self-dubbed doctor, who could not show any authoriza-
tion; I must have him know as much as a man can know, little as I believe that
wiU probably be. He must have a diploma ; it must be signed and sealed too, and
be in a regular manner, for few sensible men will risk their lives with ignorant
quacks. Now Jesus Christ has His diploma and there it is — God hath sent Him
to bind up the broken-hearted. The next thing you want in a physician is educa-
tion ; you want to know that he is thoroughly qualified ; he must have walked the
hospitals. And certainly our Lord Jesus Christ has done so. What form of
disease did He not meet with? When He was here among men it pleased God to
let the devil loose, in order that there might be more than usual venom in the veins
of poor diseased manhood ; and Christ met the devil at his darkest hour and
n.] ST. MARK.
fought with the great enemy when he had full liberty to do his worst with Him,
Jesus did, indeed, enter into the woes of men. Walked the hospital I Why the
whole world was an infirmary, and Christ the one only Physician, going from conch
to couch, healing the sons of men. (C. H. Spurgeon.) Christ a competent Physi-
cian : — His cures are very speedy — there is life in a look at Him ; His cores are
radical — He strikes at the very centre of the disease, and hence His cures are very
sure and certain. He never fails, and the disease never returns. There is no
relapse where Christ heals ; no fear that one of His patients should be but patched
np for a season, He makes a new man of him ; a new heart also does He give him,
and a right spirit does He put within him. He is a Physician, one of a thousand,
because He is well-skilled in all diseases. Physicians generally have some spicialiti.
They may know a little about almost all our pains and ills, but there is usually one
disease which they have studied the most carefully, one part of the human frame
whose anatomy is as well-known to them as the rooms and cupboards of their own
house. Jesus Christ has made the whole of human nature His spScialitS.
He is as much at home with one sinner as with another sinner, and never yet did
He meet with an out of-the-wav ease that was out of the way to Him. (Ibid,)
Vers. 18-20. And the disciples of John and of the Pharisees used to fast.—
Fasting useful or baneful, according to circumstances : — Men of opposing faiths are
often united by a common scare. They are more zealous for religious custom than
for the interests of truth. Jesus here puts fasting on its true basis. I. Fabtino
HAS Ko MOBAii VALUE IN IT8ELP. The appetite may have to be denied from pru-
dential motives, and then fasting becomes a duty. But asceticism, per se, is not A
virtue. It is the negation of a vice, but it may be the seed of twenty others, e.g.,
pride, self-righteousness. II. Pkescribed fabtino may be injurious, and bob thh
PRACTICE OF ITS REAi VALUE. HI. FaSTINO IS IMPOSED BY SORROWFUL EVENTS. A
natural instinct indicates its fitness. IV. Beneficial fasting comes from heavenly
FBASTiNO. It is the time for special activities of the soul. The best rule is — so far
as fasting helps you in the elevation a»d improvement of your highest nature, adopt
it ; BO far as it is injurious to this, avoid it. (D. Davits, M.A.) I. The envious
are more busied in censuring the conduct of others, than in rectifying their own.
This is one vice belonging to a Pharisee, and which is very common. II. It it
another, to desire that every one should regulate his piety by ours, and embrace our
particular customs and devotions. III. It is a third, to speak of others, only that
we may have an opportunity to speak of and to distinguish ourselves. It is very
dangerous for a man to make himself remarkable by such devout practices as are
external and singular, when he is not firmly settled and rooted in internal virtues,
and, above all, in humility. (Quesnel.) Fasting : — Fasting is one of the forgotten
virtues, from the neglect of which probably we all suffer. The practice grew from
a desire to keep down all grossness of nature ; to give the soul a better chance in
its eonflict with the body. The more the appetite is indulged, the less the soul can
act with energy, and the more the man shrinks from self-denial. Gluttony spoils
sanctity, while self-denial in food and drink aids it. Accordingly, God ordained
fasting, and His people have, in most ages, practised it. But in the nature of
things it yielded most advantage when it was (1) occasional, (2) voluntary, and (3)
private. {R. Glover.) Fasting determined by inward sentiment : — Christ's answer
to the Pharisees' objection is one of those clear and unanswerable statementa of
truth which, like a flash, light up the whole dark confused realm of obligation,
where so many stumble sadly and hopelessly. Can you not see that what is within
must determine that which is without ? The law of appropriateness is supreme in
the moral and religious sphere as in the material. (D« Witt S. Clark.) Routine
fasting formaif: — An aroused, loving, penitent nature will express itself ; but a
set series of motions will not quicken the torpid spirit. They are like empty shells,
in which the life has died, or out of which it has crept. They are curiosities. The
hermit-crab may tenant in them ; and thence come the useless prayers, the languish-
ing hosannas, the weary exhortations, while the world rallies the Church
as to the reaUty of the God it worships. (Ibid.) Fasting : — I. Its nature.
Fasting in a religious sense is a voluntary abstinence from food for a religious
pui-pose. II. Its obligations. IH. Benefits of fasting. 1. There is a scriptural,
a psychological, a moral and religious ground for fasting. (1) Each act of self-
denial, the refusal to gratify the lusts of the flesh, even when natural and
proper, is an assertion of the supremacy of the soul over the body, and tends to
strengthen its authority. (2) It is a general law of our nature that the outward
6
82 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. a.
Bhoald correspond with the inward. No man can maintain any desired state of
mind while his bodily condition and acts are not in accordance. He cannot be sor-
rowful in the midst of laughter. 2. There is also the further ground of experience
and the example of God's people. All eminently pious persons have been more or
less addicted to this mode of spiritual culture. (1) It must, however, be sincere.
The hypocritical fasting of the Pharisees is at once hateful and destructive. (2)
It must be regarded as simply a means and not an end. (3) It must be left free.
((7. Hodge.) Why the disciples of Christ did not fast: — Christ went in the face
of many Jewish customs and prejudices. I. The Jews, as a nation and church,
had many fasts. II. The disciples of John fasted often. III. The Pharisees and
their disciples fasted often — twice in the week, the second and fifth day. Their real
state of mind contrasted with this exercise. How reason staggers in the things of
God. IV. These parties naturally complained of the disciples of Christ for not
fasting. 1. Fasting seemed so essential. 2. They attributed the conduct of the
disciples of Christ to Christ Himself. 3. In this instance, Christ gave His sanction
and defence to the conduct of His disciples. His vindication was : — He was with
them — they were joyful, fasting not suited, Ac. He would leave them — they would
be sorrowful, fasting then suitable. This view enforced by two comparisons.
1. Christ sanctions fasting. 2. The time for fasting should be decided by the
fact of Christ's presence or absence. Beware of attaching too much importance to
forms. {Expository Discourses.) The ceremonial observames of the Christian
life: I. That the same cebbmonial orsebvanceb may be advocated by men o»
STRANGELY DITTEBENT CBEBDS AND CHARACTER, ANIMATED BY VARIED MOTIVES.
•• And the disciples of John and of the Pharisees used to fast ; and they come and
say unto Him, Why do the disciples of John and of the Pharisees fast, but Thy
disciples fast not? " 1. That weak, but well-meaning, men may be led astray in
their estimate of the ceremonial of the Christian life by proud and crafty religionists.
2. That men of varied creed, character, and conduct may be found contending for
the same ceremonial of the Christian life. 8. That even good men are often found
in open hostility because of their varied opinions in reference to the mere ceremonial
of the Christian life. H. That men may be bo mindful of the ceremonial
OBSERVANCES OF THE CHRISTIAN LIFE AS TO NEGLECT THE GREATER TRUTHS EMBODIED
AND SIGNIFIED. 1. Men are in danger of neglecting the deeper truths of the
Christian ceremonial because they are generally lacking in the habit of penetrating
its unseen and hidden meanings. 2. Men are in danger of neglecting the deeper
truths of the Christian ceremonial because they are lacking in the pure sympathy
needful to such discovery. 3. Men are in danger of neglecting the deeper truths of
the Christian ceremonial because they are lacking in that diligence needful to such
discovery. HI. That men should regulate the ceremonial observances or the
Christian lifb according to the moral experiences of the soul. " And Jesus said
unto them, can the children of the bridechamber fast while the Bridegroom is with
them?" 1. That Christ is the Bridegroom of the soul. Christhad just revealed Himself
as the Great Physician of the soul. But this is a more endearing and condescending
revelation of Himself. He loves the soul of man. He seeks to be wedded to and
to endow it with all His moral wealth. This is a close union. 2. That the absence
or presence of Christ the Bridegroom determines largely the emotions of the soul.
8. lliat the emotions of the soul, as occasioned by the absence or presence of
the Divine Bridegroom, must determine the ceremonial of the Christian life.
Lessons : 1. That the moral character cannot be infallibly judged by an attention
to the outward ceremony of the Christian life. 2. That if we would cultivate true
moods of joy, we must seek habitual communion with Christ. 3. That the feeling
of the soul must determine the religious ceremony of the hour. (J, S. Exell, M.A.)
The secret of gladness ;— I. The Bridegroom. The singular appropriateness in the
employment of this name by Christ in the existing circumstances. The Master of
these very disciples had said •• He that hath the bride is the bridegroom," &o.
Our Lord reminds them of their own Teacher's words, and so He would say to
them, ''In your Master's own conception of what I am, and of the joy that
comes from My presence, you have an answer to your question." We cannot but
connect this name with a whole circle of ideas found in the Old Testament ; the
onion between Israel and Jehovah was represented as a marriage. In Christ all
this was fulfilled. See here Christ's self -consciousness ; He claims to be the Bride-
groom of humanity. 11. The presence of the Bridegroom. Are we in the
dreary period when Christ " is taken away "? The time of mourning for an absent
Christ was only three days. " Lo, I am with you alway." We have lost the
CHAP, n.] ST. MARK.
manifestation of Him to the sense, but have gained the manifestation of Him to
the spirit. The presence is of no use unless we daily try to realize it. III. Thh jot
OF THE Bbidegboom's puesence. What was it that made these rude lives so glad
when Christ was with them ? The charm of personal character, the charm of con-
tact with one whose lips were bringing to them fresh revelations of truth. There
is no joy in the world like that of companionship, in the freedom of perfect love,
with one who ever keeps us at our best, and brings the treasure of ever fresh truth
to the mind. He is with us as the source of our joy, because He is the Lord of
our lives, and the absolute Commander of our wills. To have one present with na
whose loving word it is delight to obey, is peace and gladness. He is with us as the
ground of perfect joy because He is the adequate object of all our desires, and the
whole of the faculties and powers of a man will find a field of glad activity in lean*
ing upon Him, and realizing His presence. Like the apostle whom the old painters
loved to represent lying with his happy head on Christ's heart, and his eyes closed
in tranquil rapture of restful satisfaction, so if we have Him with us and feel that He is
with ns, our spirits may be still, and in the great stillness of fruition of all our
wishes and the fulfilment of all our needs, may know a joy that the world can
neither give nor take away. He is with us as the source of endless gladness in that
He is the defence and protection for our souls. And as men live in a victualled
fortress, and care not though the whole surrounding country may be swept bare of
all provision, so when we have Christ with us we may feel safe, whatsoever befallv
and *' in the days of famine we shall be satisfied." He is with us as the source of
our perfect joy because His presence is the kindling of every hope that fills the
future with light and glory. Dark or dim at the best, trodden by uncertain shapes,
casting many a deep shadow over the present, that future lies, except we see it
illumined by Christ, and have Him by our side. But if we possess His com-
panionship, the present is but the parent of a more blessed time to come ; and w*
can look forward and feel that nothing can touch our gladness, because nothing can
touch our union with our Lord. So, dear brethren, from all these thoughts and a
thousand more which I have no time to dwell upon, comes this one great con-
sideration, that the joy of the presence of the Bridegroom is the victorioua
antagonist of all sorrow — •* Can the children of the bridechamber mourn," &c.
The Bridegroom limits our grief. Our joy will often be made sweeter by the very
presence of the mourning. Why have so many Christian men so little joy in their
lives ? They look for it in wrong places. It cannot be squeezed out of worldly
ambitions. A religion like that of John's disciples and that of the Pharisees is
poor ; a religion of laws and restrictions cannot be joyful. There is no way of
men being happy except by living near the Master. Joy is a duty. {Dr. McLaren.)
The presence of the Bridegroom a solace in grief : — ^And we have, over and above
them, in the measure in which we are Christians, certain special sources of sorrow
and trial, pecuhar to ourselves alone ; and the deeper and truer our Christianity the
more of these shall we have. But notwithstanding all that, what will the felt
presence of the Bridegroom do for these griefs that will come t Well, it will limit
them for one thing ; it will prevent them from absorbing the whole of our nature. There
will always be a Goshen in which there is light in the dwelling, however murky
may be the darkness that wraps the land. There will always be a little bit of soil
above the surface, however weltering and wide may be the inundation that drowns
our world. There will always be a dry and warm place in the midst of the winter ;
a kind of greenhouse into which we may get from out of the tempest and the fog.
The joy of the Bridegroom's presence will last through the sorrow, like a spring of
fresh water welling up in the midst of the sea. We may have the salt and the
sweet waters mingling in our lives, not sent forth by one fountain, but flowing in
one channel. {Ibid.) A cheerful type of religion : — There is a cry amongst oa
for a more cheerful type of religion. I re-echo the cry, but am afiaid that I do not
mean by it quite the same thing that some of my friends do. A more cheerful type
of Christianity means to many of us a type of Christianity that will interfere less
with any amusements; a more indulgent doctor that will prescribe a less rigid
diet than the old Puritan type used to do. Well, perhaps they went too far ; I do
not care to deny that. But the only cheerful Christianity is a Christianity that
draws its gladness from deep personal experience of communion with Jesus Christ.
{Ibid.) Liberty and discipline : — It is one of the honourable distinctions of Christ's
doctrine that He is never taken, as men are, with a half-truth concerning a subject.
If there is, for example, a free element in Christian Ufe and experience, and also
a restrictive side, He comprehends both and holds them in a true adjustment of
84 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap, n,
their offices and relations. His answer to John's disciples amounts to thia
Liberty and discipline, movement from God's centre, and movement from our own
sanctified inclination and self-compelling will, are the two great factors of Chris-
tian liie and experience. It is obvious that both these conceptions may be abused,
as they always are when taken apart; but let us find now how to hold with Christ
the two sides at once. There is then — I. A bdlino conception of the Christian
LIFE WHICH IS CALLED HAVING THE BRIDEOBOOM PRESENT; A STATE OF BIOHT IN-
CLINATION ESTABLISHED, IN WHICH THE SOUL HAS IMMEDIATE CONSCIOUSNESS OF
God, and is swayed in liberty by His inspirations. The whole aim of Chris-
tianity is fulfilled in this alone. Discipline, self -regulation, carried on by the
will, may be wanted, as I shall presently show. But no possible amount of such
doings can make up a Christian virtue. Everything in Christianity goes for the
free inclination. Here begins the true nobility of God's sons and daughters — when
their inclination is wholly to good and to God. The bridegroom joy is now upon
them because their duty is become their festivity with Christ. II. What then is
THE PLACE OR VALUE OP THAT WHOLE SIDE OF SELF-DISCIPLINB WHICH ChBIST
Himself assumes the need of, when the bridegroom is to be taken AWAxf
There is, I undertake to say, one general purpose or office in all doings of will,
on the human side of Christian experience, viz., the ordering of the soul in fit
position for God, that He may occupy it, have it in BUs power, away it by Hia
inspirations. No matter what the kind of doing to which we are called — self-
government, self-renunciation, holy resolve, or steadfast waiting — the end is the
same, the getting in position lor God's occupanoy. As the navigator of a ship
does nothing for the voyage, save what he does by setting the ship to course and
her sails to the wind, so our self-compelling discipline is to set us in the way of
receiving the actuating impulse of God's will and character. All that we can do
is summed up in self -presentation to God, hence the call to salvation ia " Come."
And as it is in conversion, so it is of all Christian doings afterward. li, by reason
of a still partial subjection to evil, the nuptial day of a soul's liberty be succeeded
by a void, dry state, the disciple has it given him to prepare himself for God'a
help by clearing away his idols, rectifying his misjudgments, staying his resent-
ments and grudges, and mortifying his appetites. There will be a certain violence
in the fight of his repentances. Let none object that all such strains of endeavour
must be without merit because they are, in one sense, without inclination. Holy
Scripture commands us to serve, when we cannot reign. Do we " mortify our
members," " pluck out our right eye," by inclination f Let us specify some humbler
matters in which it must be done. 1. How great a thing for a Christian to keep
life, practice, and business in the terms of order. 2. A responsible way has the
same kind of value ; a soul that stays fast in concern for the Church, for the
salvation of men, for the good of the country, is ready for God's best inspirations,
8. Openness and boldness for God is an absolute requisite for the effective revela>
tion of God in the soul. 4. Honesty, not merely commercial, but honesty
engaging to do justice everywhere, every way, every day, and specially to God's
high truth and God. I could speak of yet humbler things, such as dress and
society. These are commonly put outside the pale of reUgious responsibility.
And yet there is how much in them to fix the soul's position towards God ! But
what of fasting? The very thing about which my text is concerned. Does it
belong to Christianity ? I think so. Christ declared that His disciples should
fast when He was gone. He began His great ministry by a protracted fast, and He
discourses of it just as He does of prayer and ahns. A certain half-illuminated
declamation against asceticism is a great mistake of our time. An asceticism
belonging to Christianity is described when an apostle says : " I exercise myself to
have a conscience void of offence." If we cannot find how to bear an enemy, if
we recoil from sacrifices laid upon us, we shall emulate the example of Cromwell's
soldiers, who conquered first in the impassive state, by fasting and prayer, and
then, saihng into battle as men iron-clad, conquered their enemies; or those
martyrs who could sing in the crisp of their bodies because they had trained them
to serve. But none should ever go into a fast when he has the Bridegroom
consciously with him, and it must never amount to a maceration of the body —
never be more frequent than is necessary to maintain, for the long run of time, the
clearest, healthiest condition of mind and body. There ought to be a fascination
in the severities of this rugged discipline. Our modem piety, we feel, wants
depth and richness, and it cannot be otherwise, unless we consent to endure some
hardness. To be merely wooed by grace, and tenderly dewed by sentiment, makes
OHAP. II.] ST, MARK,
» Christian mushroom, not a Christian man. So mnoh meaning has our Master,
when charging it upon us, again and again, without our once conceiving possibly
what depth of meaning He would have us find in His worda : ** Deny thyself,
take up Uiy cross and follow Me." (Horace Bushnell, D.D.)
Vers. 21, 22. No man also seweth a piece of new cloth on an old garment —
New cloth on an old garment : — God's forces not to be fettered by man. You cannot
thrust life into human moulds. I. Every force has a definite mode of action.
Spring does not produce the same results as autumn, nor can young converts
yield the same fruits as aged saints. U. To coerce these forces into human
channels is impossible. No one dress will fit all men. If you want to alter men's
habits begin by changing their principles. IH, It is only wise and safe to act with
God. Learn the methods of the Spirit's working and follow them. (D. Davies^
M.J.) The new supplanting the old: — A missionary in India writes of a large
tree near his home, in whose branches a second top of entirely different species
appeared. The old was the ** bitter nim," the other the " sacred fig." And this,
on examination, was found to have thrust its root through the decaying heart of
the great trunk to the ground. There, like a young giant in the embrace of some
huge monster, each was engaged in a struggle for life. If the old could tighten its
grasp, the young tree must die. If the young continued to grow it must at last
split open and destroy the old. This it seemed already to be doing. So with the
good seed of the gospel dropped into the rotten heart of some ancient system or
practice. Thrusting its root downward and its branches upward, it is gradually to
supplant all else and stand, bearing twelve manner of fruits, yielding her fruit
every month ; and the leaves will be for the healing of the nations. {De W. S.
Clark.) New things in Christianity : — Christianity sets up a new kingdom — a
kingdom within men — a reign over the spiritual in man. •• The kingdom of God
is not meat and drink, but righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Ghost."
It publishes a ** new law," and gives men " a new commandment." " Love is the
fulfilling of the law." Christianity introduces us into a " New Jerusalem," " the
Jerusalem which is the mother of us all." Everything in the city is new. The
Temple is new ; it is a spiritual temple ; spiritual men " are builded together for
a habitation of God through the Spirit." *' What 1 know ye not that ye are the
temple of God ? " The Altar is new ; " we have an altar whereof they have no
right to eat which serve the tabernacle." The Sacrifice is new ; it is the " offering
up of the body of Jesus Christ once for all." The Incense is new ; " the sacrifice
of praise, even the fruit of our lips, giving thanks to His name." The Priesthood
is new ; " we have a great High Priest who is passed into the heavens for us, even
Jesus, the Son of God." The Way into the ♦' Holiest " is new ; it is " a new and
living way consecrated for us." The Worship is new; the hour has come when
the character, and not the scene of worship, is everything. The song is new ; we
sing " a new song." The Eitualism is new ; " for in Jesus Christ neither circum-
cision availeth anything, nor uncircumcision, but a new creature." God sustains
a new relation to ns ; He is the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. We
come to God and say, "Doubtless Thou art our Father, though Abraham be
ignorant of us, and Israel acknowledge us not." •• Christ is the Mediator of the
new covenant." The days have come when God has made a new covenant with
man. The Spirit is new ; even the Comforter, proceeding from the Father and the
Son. The gospel is new; " God hath spoken unto us by His Son." The phraseo-
logy is new ; " we preach Christ crucified." The symbolism is new ; •• the cross
of our Lord Jesus Christ." Since everything in Christianity is new, we must oar-
selves be new ; we must be " born again." There must be the passage from death
to life. The life we live in the flesh must be a new life. " Old things must pass
away; all things must become new." (U. J. Bevis.) New things in Chris-
tianity : — I. That the spirit of Christianity is new. It is " new wine." Judaism
was the body ; Christianity is the soul. The one was materialism ; the other is
spiritualism. The one was *' the letter ; " the other is " the spirit." The one was
a ' ministration of death ; " the other a •' ministration of life." " The law came
by Moses, but grace and truth by Jesus Christ." We have got beyond the shadow,
we have the substance. "We behold with unveiled face the glory of the Lord."
II. That the thoughts and wobds of Christianity are new. New thoughts require
new utterances. The people said of Christ, " Never man spake like this Man."
New things want new words. The everlasting Son has taken our nature and
b«M5ome our brother. The gospel calls this " the mystery of godliness." God hatb
S6 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. ix.
given His Son, that whosoever believeth on Him might have eternal life. Even
the gospel seems to want words here, and can only say, " God so loved." The
gospel takes us by the hand and leads us to the cross ; and as we look on the
Crucified, it unfolds the record, and bids us read, ♦• God hath given to us eternal
life, and this life is in His Son." We want not old forms. We have truth for the
understanding; we have love for the heart. We have new thoughts and new
words, the utterances of which are as the divinest music to the soul that is seeking
a Saviour. " This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ
Jesus came into the world to save sinners, even the chief." HI. Thb manifksta-
TI0N8 OF Christianity abb new, *' There is a natural body, and there is a spiritual
body." Christianity is from heaven. God's work is not to be improved by man.
Where there is real religion in man, its own manifestations will not be wanting in
a Divine life, in all the graces of the Spirit, in godiikeness. IV. The ritualism of
Chbistianitt is new. It has few symbols, but these are most expressive and appro-
priate. It meets us on the very threshold of life with its washing of water, and
water is the universal and undying type of purity. It gives us, as Christians, the
memorials of Christ's death. The ritualism of your spirit must be left to the
moods and feelings of your own heart. You may content yourselves with mere
outward acts of reformation, but these are manifestly insufficient. This is but a
new piece of cloth on an old garment. This is the world's attempt to mend human
nature. Christianity requires " a new heart and a right spirit." You must be a
"partaker of the Divine nature," **a new creature in Christ Jesus," to be a
Christian. The "inner man" must have its new attire. You must put off the
old garment and put on the new. You must " put on Christ Jesus the Lord, and
walk in Him." Do not try to mend the old nature. Seek a new one. Old habits
will not do for a new spirit, and yet we cling to them, or they cling to us. There
is often httle agreement between our principles and our practice. (Ibid.) Legal
ceremonies superseded :—P&vil calls legal ceremonies ''beggarly rudiments;"
such are the popish — like a beggar's doak, full of patches. When the debt is paid,
it is unjust to keep back the bond : Christ being come, and having discharged all
it is injurious to retain the bond of ceremonies. In the spring we make much
of buds and flowers to delight the eye and cheer the sense of smelling; but in
autumn, when we receive the fruits to content our taste and appetite, and to nourish
us, the other are nothing worth. The affianced virgin esteems every token her
lover sends her, and solaceth her affections with those earnests of his love in his
absence ; but when she is married, and enjoys himself, there is no regard of the
tokens. It was something to have a ceremony or a sacrifice, representing a
Saviour; but this *• made nothing perfect ; " and edl the life which those things had
was from that Saviour whom now we have. {T. Adams.) Old bottles and new
wine : — Christ gave his replies to John's disciples and the Pharisees. The first had
a temporary application ; the other a permanent one. 1. Fasting was a sign of
sorrow ; but how could these disciples sorrow while Jesus was with them ? It was
like trying to weep in the midst of a wedding feast. Christians have alternations
of experience. Sometimes the Bridegroom is with us ; sometimes far away. 2.
The other answer sets forth the essential difference between the new dispensation
and the impossibility of confining it by the old forms and ceremonies of religion.
Now, these bottles represent religious forme, and wine represents religious spirit or
life. Consider— I. The superior knerot of Christianity over Judaism. It is new
wine. Judaism was wine ; but this is newer, and also better. But this is not the
point of comparison. The point is, that the gospel has a freshness, expansiveness,
and power, beyond what we find in Judaism, so that it is like new, working and
fermentiiig wine as compared with old acetic wine, now cold and still. See it in a
few particulars : — 1. Its earnest aggressive spirit and aim. It was meant for the
world, to go out to all nations. Judaism was for the Jews, or if for Gtentiles, it
was by these coming to the Jews as proselytes. Its agency is the same. 2. Its
potent and stimulating motives. Christ's love and death constrain us ; and the
apocalypse of the eternal world is made more impressive and influential. Compare
these with Jewish types, &o. 3. The ardour of affection awakened in the followers
of Christ. Their whole nature is elevated and vivified by a new love and a new
hope. 4. The accompanying energy of the Holy Ghost. H. The UNsurrABLENEfg
or OLD Jewish forms to the new Christian spirit. All are too narrow, cold, ai d
cramping. As fastings, sacrifices, priestly exclusiveness, and even the Sabbath.
III. Yet Christianitt has its own forms. The wine is not spilt on the ground, but
kept in bottles — the Christian Church in its New Testament simplicity, th«
CHAP. IL] ST. MARK. 8?
orcHnanoes, the Lord's day, spiritual modes of worship. All these naturally eome
out of the spirit of the gospel. The life makes its own body. Truly, this law has
been tampered with most grievously by men, and the energy of the gospel has suf*
fared ; its freedom has been trammelled, and its life deadened. Lessons : 1. Our
supreme concern should be to get the life of the gospel into our souls. 2. We should
avoid a superstitious stickling for mere forms, however old and elegant, if they are
but arbitrary and mechanical. 3. We should be willing to endorse and adopt the
simple, natural, and living forms of the New Testament — joining the church,
engaging in worship, &c. 4. We should apply it to our whole deportment and life
— all must be renewed, and new wine put in new bottles. Let all our habits be
determined and controlled by the inner spirit of piety. Things once pleasant to
us will now be unpleasant and irksome. Many amusements and pleasures will be
instantly abandoned, when we have got the right spirit within us ; whereas, other-
wise, it would be vain to contend and argue against them. (Congregational Pulpit.)
Vers. 23, 24, And it came to pass, that He vent througrh the cornfields on tlie
Sabbath day. — A knowUdge of the law without the true spirit of the law : — He who
has only the knowledge without the spirit of the law, very often opposes when he
thinks he is defending it. Pharisaical pride makes men set themselves up for
judges of everything, and require an account of everything to be given them.
When a man is once full of himself, he decides confidently, especially when it is to
condemn others. Those who love to domineer are not content to exercise their
authority upon their own disciples, but would fain bring those of others under
their dominion. (Quemel.) Scrupulosity .— Scrupulosity is considered by some
as identical with conscientiousness. It is not so. It is a tare that resembles the
wheat, but is not wheat ; a disease of the conscience, not a refinement of it. You
must not judge an eye by its sensitiveness to light, but by its power of seeing.
When light pains the eye it is because there is inflammation, not l^ause the organ
is a fine one. So it is with conscience. The health of conscience is not to be
measured by its sensitiveness, its protests, and its objections ; but by its power to
lead a man into all genial activities and self-denying charities. Conscientiousness
is a happy child, whose language is — •• What shall I render to the Lord for all His
benefits ? " Scrupulosity is a slave, whose language is — *♦ What must I do to avoid
God's rebuke? " Conscientiousness acts on great principles ; scrupulosity on little
rules. Conscientiousness serves God, blesses man, and protects him who cherishes
it ; scrupulosity is often useless to everybody. Conscientiousness makes man an
Israelite indeed, in whom is no guile ; but scrupulosity often makes him an Ish-
maelite indeed, in whom there is often a good deal. The Pharisees were full of
scrupulosity, and it produced in them all uncharitableness. (R, Glover.) Through
the cornfields: — Looking out upon the cornfields of wheat we see — I. Unity in
VARIETY. To the unaccustomed eye the wheat seems one, and yet it is various. There
is the white wheat, the red wheat, and beneath these, varie.. .s and sub-varieties in
great number. Yet what unity in the variety. Variety, too, meets us as we look out
upon the vast field of humanity ; yet what unity. One hand has made us all ; in Christ
" there is neither Greek nor Jew, bond nor free." In Him •' all we are brethren.*'
IL Fruitfulness through death is taught us by the fields of wheat. The field
of burial shall become the field of resurrection. III. The permanence oi
character is suggested to us by the ripening fields of wheat — " Whatsoever a man
aoweth, that abal" he also reap." IV. The vast PRODUCTrvENEss op good is sug-
gested by tae fields of wheat — "And bring forth fruit, some an hundredfold."
Christianity, truth, work for God, yield '• much fruit." V. Human dkpehdkncb
is taught us by the cornfields ; God giveth the increase. (O. T. Coster.)
Vers. 25, 26. And He said unto them. Hare ye never read vhat David did 7—
How to read the Bible : — I. In order to the true reading of the Scriptures there
MUST BB AN UNDEHSTANDiNO OP THEM. The mind must be well awake to it. We
must meditate upon it. We must pray about it. We must use all means and
helps. II. In reading we ought to seek out the spiritual teaching op the
Word. This should be the case in reference to the historical passages, ceremonial
precepts, and doctrinal statements. lU. Such a reading of Scripture as implies
the understanding of, and the entrance into, its spiritual meaning, and the discovery
of the Divine Person, who is the spiritual meaning, is propitable. It often begets
spiritual life. It comforts the soul. It nourishes the soul. It guides us. (C. H.
Spurgeon.) Pedantic Bible readers: — The scribes and Pharisees were great
68 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOli. [chap. u.
readers of the law. They made notes of very little importance, hut still very
curious notes — as to which was the middle verse of the entire Old Testament,
which verse was half-way to the middle, and how many times such a word occurred,
and the size of the letter, and its peculiar position. According to Pharisaic inter-
pretation, to rub an ear of corn is a kind of threshing, and, as it is very wrong to
thresh on the Sabbath-day, therefore it must be very wrong to rub out an ear or two
of wheat when you are hungry on the Sabbath morning. {Ibid.) The grace of
Bible doctrine : — The doctrines of grace are good, but the grace of the doctrines ia
better. (Ibid.) Living in God's Word : — As I sat, last year, under a wide-
spreading beech, I was pleased to mark witb prying curiosity the singular habits of
that most wonderful of trees, which seems to have an iutelligence about it which
other trees have not. I wondered at, and admired the beech, but I thought to my-
self, I do not think half as much of this beech-tree as yonder squirrel does. I see
him leap from bough to bough, and I feel sure he dearly values the old beech tree,
because he has his home somewhere inside it, in a hollow place ; these branches are
his shelter, and these beech-nuts are his food. He lives upon the tree. It is his
world, his playground, his granary, his home ; indeed it is everything to him, and
it is not so to me, for I find my rest and food elsewhere. With God's Word it ii
weU for us to be like squirrels, living in it, and living on it. (Ibid.) Bible
glancing not Bible reading : — An old preacher used to say : The Word has mighty
free course among many nowadays, for it goes in at one of their ears, and out at
the other. So it seems to be with some readers — they read a very great deal
because they do not read anything. Their eye glances, but the mind never rests.
The soul does not light upon the truth and stay there. It flits over the landscape
as a bird might do, but it builds no nest therein, and finds no rest for the sole of
its foot. Such reading is not reading. (Ibid.) An interior reading of Scripture : —
In prayer there is such a thing as praying in prayer — a praying which is the bowels
of the prayer. In praise there is a praising in song, an inward fire of intense devo-
tion, which is the life of the hallelujah. It is even so with the reading of the
Scriptures. There is an interior reading, a kernel reading; and, if it be not there,
the reading is a mechanical exercise, and profits nothing. (Ibid.) Illumination
necessary to emotion: — When the high priest went into the holy place he always lit
the golden candlestick before he kindled the incense upon the brazen altar, as if to
show that the mind must have illumination before the affections can rise towards
God. {Ibid.) Use of t?ie Scriptures : — The cause of so many gross and foolish
opinions which many amongst us hold and maintain, is nothing else but their
ignorance of the Scriptures, either because they read them not duly and diligently,
or else because they understand them not aright. How many foolish and absurd
opinions are held by ignorant people in many places ? Such as these for example :
That faith is nothing but a man's good meaning: That God is served by
rehearsing the Ten Commandments and the Creed instead of prayers : That the
Sabbath is kept well enough if men and women come to church, and be present at
pnblio prayers and at the sermon, though they spend the rest of the day either
idly or profanely : That the Sabbath is well enough sanctified by bare reading of
prayers, and so much preaching is needless : That it is lawful to swear in common
talk to that which is true : That in religion it is best to do as the most do : That
a man may make of his own as much as he can : That such as are not book-
learned need have no knowledge of religion. These, and such-like absurd opinions,
proceed from nothing but ignorance of the Scriptures. If we would avoid such
errors, and be led into all truth of doctrine necessary to salvation, let us (1) be
frequent and diligent in hearing the Scriptures explained in church ; (2) search
them diligently and often in private reading ; (3) pray daily to God to open our
understanding, that we may perceive their true meaning ; (4) confer with others
touching those things which we read and hear. {O. Fetter.) Mercy better than
sacrifice : — When the Romans had ravaged the province of Azazane, and seven
thousand Persians were brought to Armida, where they suffered extreme want,
Aoases, the bishop of that city, observed that as God said, " I love mercy better
than sacrifice," He would certainly be better pleased with the relief of His
Buffering creatures, than with bemg served with gold and silver in their churches.
The clergy were of the same opinion. The consecrated vessels were sold, and,
with the proceeds, the seven thousand Persians were not only maintained during
the war, but sent home at its conclusion with money in their pockets. Varenes,
the Persian monarch, was so charmed with this humane action, that he invited
the bishop to his capital, where he received him with the utmost reverence, and
for hia sake conferred many favours on the Christians.
CHAP, u.] ST. MARK, «9
Vers. 27, 28. And He said nnto them, the Sabbath wsa made for man— T^
Sabbath and its Lord : — " l^he Sabbath was made for man " — not for the Jews only—
not a mere ceremonial observance for the time ; but of universal obligation ; made
for man when man was made. I. ♦♦ The Sabbath was made for man " as a woBKiNa
man. It is a simple fact in medical science, that the human frame is not made so
as to bear up under constant labour without rest. He can no more do it than he
can live under water ; it is contrary to nature ; and the consequence will be pre-
mature decay ; the frame will break down and wear out before its time. This is a
simple fact in science. Besides, labour is God's appointment, His wholesome and
needful law. But did He mean us to bear the drudgery of ceaseless toil ? How
wretched, how degrading, how brutalizing 1 And God has not appointed it : " Six
days shalt thou labour." But on this head I need say no more ; those admirable
Essays by Working Men, which ought to be in everybody's hands, and which so
vividly portray the experience of those who have kept the Sabbath, exhaust this
part of the subject. II. " The Sabbath was made for man," as a social being.
What is God's great instrument for promoting the temporal good of His creatures?
It is the family tie. What is the great stimulant to exertion ? What the great
safeguard, what the great cordial of life — speaking of mere human things, I mean ?
It is to be found in the word *• home." My experience as a gaol chaplain convinces
me that the great cause of crime arises from the breach of the fourth and fifth
commandments. Let but the family tie be rent asunder, and society falls to
pieces. And how can this be maintained without a Sabbath ? The observation
of an omnibus conductor the other day sets this in a striking light : " Sir,
I am at work every Sunday, all the day, as well as on week-days, and I hardly
know the face of my own children." Then what must become of those
children? And why should they be deprived of a father's care, and he of hia
children's love? And how has God provided against such a danger? "The
Sabbath was made for man." Then the various members of the family, scattered
through the week, are once more united ; the mutual feelings of affection are
elicited ; they are excited to seek each other's welfare, and to value each other's
good opinion and esteem ; and, short of the power of God's grace, there is no bond
half so strong, no security half so certain, that they will fill up their places as good
members of society. I constantly meet with those who are lost to every other
feeling of shame but this. HI. ♦• The Sabbath was made for man," as a spibitual
being. Earthly things must not engross all the time and thought of man. God
interposes, " The seventh day is the Sabbath of the Lord thy God." IV. But it is
not enough to offer man the blessing — it is made imperative ; it is confirmed by the
sanction which is added, '• The Son of Man is Lord also of the Sabbath." Jesus is
the Lord of the Sabbath, the Proprietor of it, the Owner of it, the Master of it.
It is His. It was made for man, but never given to man. The six days were
given to man — the seventh never was. He is •* the Lord " of it. It is at His dis-
posal, not at yours, nor any man's, nor any body of men, however great or powerful.
" Will a man rob God ? " Yes. If he apply to his own purposes that which does not
belong to him, what is it? Robbery. You have no right over another's Sabbaths ;
you have no right over your own. It is the Lord's day. It is for Him to say how
the day shall be spent ; and man has no more the right to alienate that day from
the service of God to his own service than he has to appropriate his neighbour's
property or despoil him of his honour for his own behoof. The Sabbath is not
man's, but the Lord's, and you can't repeal that law, no more than you can change
the laws of motion or reverse the force of gravity. You may arrest it for a time,
but it will prevail at last ; the laws of God execute themselves, you cannot make
them inoperative and null. V. ** The Son of Man is the Lord of the Sabbath"—
the Jtjdob to punish the breach of it. Nothing is more certain than that this is
one of the sins which He especially requires at the hands of men. We know it
from His dealings with Israel ; Jeremiah is full of puch declarations ; so are many
of the other prophets ; to refer only to one, Ezekiel xx. 13, 16, 21, 24. He is the
Lord — the Judge— to vindicate His own law. And why ? First, Sabbath-breaking
is a deliberate sin. And then Sabbath-breaking is (if I may coin such an expres-
sion) a fundamental sin. It goes to the root of all godliness ; an habitual Sabbath-
breaker cannot have any true religion. It opens the door of his heart wide to
Satan. VI. •' The Son of Man is Lord of the Sabbath "—To dibeot the modk of
its observance. It is the Lord's day — the Lord who died for us. He claims it, to
be devoted to His service and consecrated to His honour. VII. Ajkd is it not the
Lord's day ? — the day on which He specially manifests Himsblv to His neople ;
90 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap, ii
when He inntes them to draw water with joy out of the wells of salvation. {J.
Cohen, M.A.) The Sabbath a necessity : — It was " mad^ for man," as man ; as a
thing necessary, suited, essential for him. Just as the atmosphere was made for
man to breathe, just as the earth was made for him to cultivate, just as the seasons
were made for him — just as these and such-like things were taken into account,
when man was put upon the earth, as necessary to fit it for man's abode physically,
so the Sabbath was made for man, as a necessary requisite for man morally — and
that, when man was unfallen, a holy being, like unto the angels. And if indis-
pensable for man's moral and spiritual health then, can it be less indispensable
now t And in His mercy God spared it to us. It has survived the fall — a remnant
of paradise lost, and the best help to paradise regained. {Ibid.) The working
man a self sovereign on the Sabbath : — Now, I say to this large class of men, the
Babbath comes as a boon from God. It is like an island in a stormy sea. There is
a way in which poor men, for the most part, own themselves. The man whose
horse and dray are imperatively at the command of his employer, on whose favour
he depends, who says to him on Monday, " Go," and he goes, and that from day-
light to dark — ^it being the same on Tuesday, on Wednesday, on every day of the
week, 80 that the man cannot go out of Brooklyn without permission of his
employer, cannot go to this or that exhibition unless his employer gives his consent
— that man has sold out his industry, which carries his person with it, and for six
days in the week he is restricted by the will of another ; but when the seventh day
comes round he says, " Thank God, I have nobody to ask to-day. I am free to
come and go. I can rise up or lie down as I please." That is the only day that
the poor man has out of the seven in which he has absolute ownership of his body
And soul in the thronging industries of modem civilized society. And yet it is this
very class of men who are being taught to throw stones at the Sabbath-day. It is
precisely the same thing over again which occurred when Moses appeared as the
deliverer of his people against the Egyptians, and sought to reconcile the quarrel
which had arisen between the two peoples. They turned against him and said,
*• Who art thou? " And he had to run for his life. The Sabbath comes to men
who are tied hand and foot, and need emancipation ; and upon this beneficent day
of rest for them they turn and say, " It is the priests' day ; it is the church's bon-
dage ; and we are not going to be tied up to any Sunday." Tied up I It is the only
day on which your hands are untied. It is the only day on which the poor man is
sovereign. {H. W. Beecher.) The Sabbath a poetic gift to the mechanical agent : —
Well, how is it i^out the poor man ? His brain is not taxed. He is almost a mechani-
cal agent. That part of a man's brain which has cognisance of the lower functions
only is overtaxed, and the rest which is wanted in his case is the transfer of excite-
ment from the lower part of the brain to the higher — to the realm of the moral and
spiritual elements. It is needful that a man who is instructed should rise up into the
crystal dome of his house. Ordinarily he is working on the ground floor ; but there
eomes a day in which, if he improves the means that are within his reach, a man can
cease to be altogether a mechanical agent, can cease to think of physical qualities
or things, and rise into the realm of ideas, into the realm of social amenities, into
the realm of refined and purified affections, into the great mysterious, poetic realms
of the spirit. And is there any class that need that more than poor labouring men ?
{Ibid.) The Sabbath helpful to self-reject : — On such a day as this it is no small
means of grace for millions of men in this world to have a chance to wash them-
selves clean. You smile ; but washing is one of the most important ordinances of
God to this human family. It is said that cleanliness is next to godliness ; not to
men that are godly, but to men that are on their way toward godliness. When
KafQrs are converted, they are called " shirt-men," because when the grace of God
enters their heart a shirt goes over their bodies for the first time. Wellmgton said
he found that in his army the men who had the self-respect which is indicated by
carefully clothing themselves, were the best men he had. In a report on labour
. made to the British Parliament by one of the largest employers of men, it was said
that a workman who on Sunday did not wash himself and dress in his best could not
be depended upon. {Ibid.) Stealing the Lord's day : — If you give six days to
worldly success, and then voluntarily take the seventh day, which God demands
for His worship and especial service, and give that to worldly amusements, then you
are wrong ; you are so wrong that you could not be any more wrong. If I say my
child is sick : I think by taking it to the beach it could be helped, but I cannot
take it except on the Sabbath day, and therefore I will have to let it die, then I
make a miserable misinterpretation of the text in one direction. Bat if you say,
«HAP. n.] ST, MARK, W
*• Come, let us go down for some fine sport ; let us examine the pictnresqne bathing-
dresses ; let us have a jolly time with our friends," then you misinterpret my text
in the other direction. The fact is that nine out of ten of you — ^yea, I will go
further than that and say that ninety-nine out of a hundred of you — I think I wlU
go one step farther and say that nine hundred and ninety-nine out of a thousand of
you, can go on other days and other nights, instead of the Christian Sabbath.
Your work, your business engagement ends at six o'clock ; that is true with the
most of you. In a flash you get to the sea- shore : in a flash you get back. You
can be in your home at six o'clock and ten o'clock the same evening, and in the
interregnum have spent three hours in looking at moonlight on the sea. Now, if
God gives you during the week opportunity for recreation, is it not mean for you to
take Sunday ? If I am a poor man, and I come into your store, and beg some socks
for my children, and you say, •* Yes, I'll give you six pairs of socks," and while yon
are binding them up in a bundle I steal the seventh pair, you say, •• That is mean."
If you, the father, have seven oranges, and you give to your ohild six of them, and
he steals the seventh, that is mean. But that is what every one does who, after the
Lord gives him six days, steals the seventh. {Dr. Talmage.) The secularization
of the Sabbath inimical to the spiritual welfare of mankind : — I also oppose this
secularization of the Christian Sabbath because it is war on the spiritual warfare of
everybody. Have you a body? Yes. A mind? Yes. A soul? Yes. Do you
propose to give them a chance f Yes, Do you believe that all these Sunday night
concerts will prepare a single man for the song of the one hundred and forty and
four thousand? Have you any idea that all the fifty-two Sundays of secular
amusements, operatic singing, concerts, and theatres would prepare in a thousand
years one man for heaven ? Do you not think that the immortal soul ia worth at
least one-seventh as much as our perishable body? Here is a jeweller who has
three gems — a camelian, an amethyst, a diamond. He has to cut and set them.
Upon which does he put the most care ? The diamond. Now, the camelian is the
body, the amethyst is the mind, the diamond is the souL You give opportunity to
these other faculties of your nature, but how many of you give no opportunity to
that which is worth as much more than all other interests as a thousand million
dollars are more tiian one cent ? {Ibid.) The Lord's right in the Sabbath above
that of the people ;— We hear a great deal about the people's rights in selecting their
own amusements on Sunday. I would not invade the people's rights, but it seemi
to me that the Lord has some rights. You are at the head of your family ; you
have a right to govern the family. The Governor is at the head of the State ; he
governs the State. The President is at the head of the nation ; he governs the
nation. The Lord God is at the head of the universe, and He has a right to lay
down an enactment : ♦* Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy." Whether
popular or unpopular, I now declare that the people have no rights except
those which the Lord God Almighty gives them. {Ibid.) The Lord's Day :—
I. We must consider the Lord's day as ▲ gift, eatheb than a command. So
it will come to us in the light of a privilege. No laws are given by Christ
or by His apostles concerning the forms of observance. We shall become
perplexed if we attempt to rest our case upon simple legal enactment. Our safety
in such discussions consists in our fastening attention upon the gracious and
benevolent character of the Divine institution. God gives us this one day of the
week as His peculiar offering for our bodily and spiritual need ; He does not order
it nor claim it for any necessities of His own. II. We must consider the Lord's
day AS A FREEDOM, rather than a restriction. So it will seem to us a gracious
respite. III. This leads us on to say that Christians should consider the Lord's
day as a rest rather than a dissipation. So it will become a recuperation to us
from its chance of a change. The original idea of the Sabbath was rest ; the word
signifies rest ; the fourth commandment gives as the basis of the law the fact that
God rested and so hallowed the rest-day. We come up to the end of the week
worn and excited. Most of us know what the poet Cowper meant when he wrote to
his friend John Newton : •♦ The meshes of that fine net-work the brain are com-
posed of such mere spiders' threads in me, that when a lonj? thought finds its way
inio them, it buzzes, and twangs, and bustles about, at such a rate as seems to
threaten the whole structure." At these times we need tranquil hours for change
of occupation, as well as for genial and agreeable entertainment. Dr. Addison
Alexander used to say he found bis recreation in change of toil. He would go from
the study of languages to the study of mathematics. He would turn from writing
commentaries to writing sermons. He would discuss theology, and refresh himself
W THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap, n,
after hia diy work by composing little poems for children. We all ought to know
and recognize this principle. What we need for Sunday rest is not so much sleep
as something to do different from what we do during the week ; and what we should
■hun the most is this wear and tear of a crowded excursion. A real rest is found
in variety of labour, inside of exhaustion and fatigue. Quiet does not mean stupid
slumber on the Lord's day, or on any other. The best relief from worldly cares is
discovered oftenest in the gentle industries of religious work. IV. We must con-
sider the Lord's day as a benediction rather than a fbet. Thus we shall rebut
the charge of bigotry. It is sometimes claimed that Sabbath laws exasperate men
who make no claim to religion, and this is a free country. It has to be admitted
that there are always some people who grow exasperated whenever the subject of
law is naentioned. But liberty is not licence, nor is freedom lawlessness. This
one day in seven is no less a blessing because some men do not think so ; it is not
a fret because they are fretted. Even decent people have some rights. God does
not engage to commune with His children, and then expect them to allow the
interview to be disturbed by the rollicking riot of a beer garden, or the band of
target-shooting parades. V. We must consider the Lord's day as a help rather
than an institution. (C. 8. Robinson, D.D.) Son of Man is Lord of the Sab-
bath : — Nothing can show the Divine nature of our Lord more clearly than that He
is above such a law of God, so that He should modify it, relax it, change it at His
pleasure. He exercised but a small part of this authority when He freed His dis-
ciples from the yoke of its burdensome pharisaic observance. He exercised His
lordship over the day far more royally when He by His Spirit made the day of His
resurrection the weekly religious festival of His Church. By this He gave it alto-
gether a new character. Henceforth it is a day, not of mere rest, but of renewed
life, the life of His own resurrection ; and so its characteristic ordinance is not the
slaying of beasts, but the life-giving celebration of the sacrament of His own risen
body. (M. F, Sadler.) The Sabbath was made for man: — I. As a periodical
reprieve from the curse of labour. II. As a stated season for attention to religious
truths and interests. HI. As a day of holy convocation for the purpose of worship
and instruction. IV. As an emblem and an earnest of the saint's everlasting rest.
(G. Brooks.) The Son of Man Lord of the Sabbath:— I. It was instituted by
Him. II. It is kept on a day which is fixed by His authority. III. It is intended
to commemorate His resurrection. IV. It ought to be observed with a special
regard to His will, and word, and work. {Ibid.) The Sabbath for man as a corn-
flex creature : — The question has been revived in our own generation: "In what
spirit is that day which has superseded the Sabbath to be kept, especially by the
working classes ? " This, no less than the other, " was made for man." Now man,
it must be remembered, is a complex creature. He has a tripartite nature, con-
sisting of body, soul, and spirit ; and it is necessary to provide for him as such, not
ignoring either his physical, or his social, or his religious needs. All must be
kept in view. It is a manifest duty to furnish the masses with the means of bodily
recreation, and to draw them from their squalid homes into the pure air which will
invigorate the frame. It is no less a duty to elevate their tastes, to offer them, as
far as possible, variety of scene, and that relief from the monotony of labour which
the rich man finds in his club or library ; but all must be subordinated to the para-
mount duty of worship. That is due from every creature to the Great Creator. It
is that, moreover, in which he may find his highest enjoyment. No scheme,
therefore, which ignores this claim can possibly carry out the principle here laid
down by Christ, (if. M. Luckeocky D.D.) Man cannot do without the Sabbath: —
A distinguished merchant, who for twenty years did a vast amount of business,
remarked to Dr. Edwards, •• Had it not been for the weekly day of rest, I have no
doubt I should have been a maniac long ago." This was mentioned in a company
of merchants, when one remarked, " That is the case exactly with a poor friend of
mine. He was one of our greatest importers. He used to say Sunday was the best
day in the week to plan successful voyages ; showing that his mind had no Sabbath.
He has been in the insane hospital for years, and will probably die there." Many
men are there, or in the maniac's grave, because they allowed themselves no Sab-
bath. They broke a law of nature, and of nature's God, and found " the way of
the transgressor is hard." The Sabbath a service to the State : — The keeping one
day in seven holy, as a time of relaxation and refreshment as well as for public
worship, is of admirable service to a state, considered merely as a civil institution.
{Sir W. Blackstone.) The Sabbath for man's happimss : — The usages and ordi-
nances of religion ought to be regulated according to their end, which is the hononr
. n.1 ST. MARK,
of God and the advantage of men. It ii the property ol the religion of the true
God, to contain nothing in it but what is beneficial to man. Hereby God plainly
idiows that it is neither out of indigence, nor interest, that He requires men to
worship and obey Him, but only out of goodness, and on purpose to make them
happy. God prohibited work on the Sabbath day, for fear lest servants should be
oppressed by the hard-heartedness of their masters, and to the end that men might
not be hindered from attending upon God and their own salvation. {Quesnel.)
The Sabbath law fibred in the nature of man : — For as the old masters put their
colours upon the fresh, damp plaster of the wall until, hardening together, picture
and plaster were one in their witness to the future of the glories of the past, so
fibred in the need and future of man is the law of the Sabbath. {Monday Club
Sermons.) The Sabbath a physical necessity : — The testimony is cumulative, from
experience and careful scientific experiment, that in all departments of continuous
work — as mines, factories, railroads, mechanic arts, telegraphy, and commercial
pursuits — the rest of the night does not restore the vitality lost in the day. The
New York Central engineers, who petitioned for their Sundays on the ground that
they could do more and better work in six tban in seven days, have clearer heads
and firmer hands, and that under pressure of constant service age came on pre*
maturely, put on record their own experience. In a paper before the British Asso-
ciation it was stated by an employer of labour that he could work a horse eight milei
A day for six days better than he could six miles a day for seven days ; so that by
not working on Sunday he saved 12 per cent. (Ibid.) Man needs the rest of ths
Sabbath in addition to the rest of night : — In the same line of witness is the testi-
mony of medical and scientific experts, that the rest of the night does not restore
the powers of mind and body to the same vitality they had twenty-four hours
before, and that the natural forces run steadily lower and lower from Monday
morning until Saturday night, until these powers can be lifted back to their normal
vitality and place only by the relaxation and rest of the seventh day. It is a curious
scientific fact that Proudhon, the great socialistic philosopher of France, attempted
to work out mathematically the relative ratio of work to rest, which ^ould secure
the greatest efficiency and the largest product. Biased by no reUgious claim, but
rather avowedly hostile to such influence, he found that six days of work and one
day of rest was the only right proportion : that is, to shorten the present working
week by one day made the rest too much for the labour, while adding a single day
(o the labouring week made the rest too small for complete recuperation. Humboldt,
years before, arrived at the same mathematical conclusion : and when France, loyal
to her decimal system, put the tenth day in the place of the seventh, she found that
the working-man took two holidays instead of one, and thereby entailed a loss upon
the industrial production of the empire. Therefore Chevalier rightly said : "Let
as observe Sunday in the name of hygiene, if not in the name of religion." For
Sunday is the best friend of the working-man — his defence against decay, disease,
and premature death. And every railroad corporation, every steamship Une, every
factory bell which calls to Sunday labour, every lax law and every lax practice—
these are the enemies of the working-man, aye, every poor man ! The rich can rest
when they will ; but the poor man cannot, save as his day of rest is conserved by
the law of the land and of God. (Ibid.) The Sabbath is a social necessity : — What
are the great working factors of society ? Why, we say, the family, the church, and
the school — law and order. Put neglect upon any of these great fountains and the
stream grows muddy and shallow, and yet no agency is more potent in conserving
these social factors than the Sabbath. It acts as a brake npon the rush and roar
of traffic and self-interest, which for six days engross the mind and busy the hand.
It bids men stop and breathe, think of God and cultivate the social amenities
of life, and thereby makes them better neighbours and better citizens. {Ibid.)
Tlie Sabbath necessary to the weary man: — Wherever mind and body are taxed
and exhausted by toil — and it is meant in the laws of our being that they shall
everywhere be employed — there the Sabbath is destined to come as a day of
rest. The ship, indeed, will glide along at sea, for its course cannot be arrested ;
and the Sabbath of the mariner may often be different from that of a dweller
in a palace or a cottage, and different from that wbich the seaman feels that
he needs. The sun and the stars will hold on their way, and the grass will
grow, and the flower open its petals to the light, and the streams will roll to
the ocean; for there is need that the laws of nature should be uniform, and
the fibres of plants, and suns, and planets, and streams experience no exhaustion,
and He who directs them all **fainteth not, nor is weary: " but man is weary
94 THE BIBLICAL ILLVSTRATOR, [chap. u.
and needs rest. {A. Barnes^ D.B,) The Sabbath necessary for the higher bein^
of man : — Man, with these relations, and these high powers to cultivate, the Sab-
bath meets as a day of leisure, that he may show on such a day of rest that he
is distinguished from beasts of burden, and creatures governed by instinct, and
those incapable of moral feeling, and those destined to no higher being, and those
not knowing how to aspire to fellowship with God. The bird, indeed, will build its
nest on the Sabbath, and the beaver its dam, and the bee its cell, and the lion will
huut its prey; for they have no higher nature than is indicated by these things.
But man has a higher nature than the fowls of the air and the beasts of the forest^
and the world would have been sadly disjo n ed and incomplete, if there had been
no arrangements to develop it. The Sabbatn is among those arrangements. It is,
indeed, a simple thing merely to command a man to rest one day in seven ; but
most of the great results which we see depend on very simple arrangements. The
law which controls the falling pebble is a simple law ; but all these worlds are kept
by it in their places. The law which you see developed in a prism, bending the
diiferent rays in a beam of light, is a simple law ; but all the beauty of the green
lawn, of variegated flowers, of the clouds at evening, of the lips, the cheek, the
eye, and all that we admire on the canvass when the pencil of Rubens or Baphael
touches it, is to be traced to these simple laws. It is one of the ways in which
nature works to bring out most wonderful results from the operation of the simplest
laws. (Ibid.) Exertion demands rest: — This is true, as we all know, of the
muscular system, voluntary and involuntary. In breathing, in winking of the
eyes, in the beating of the heart, there is a system of alternate action and repose,
each brief indeed in their existence, but indispensable to the healthy action of the
muscles, and to the continuance of life. Each one of these organs, too, though
they seem to be constantly in motion, will have the rest which nature demands, or
disease and death will be the result. The same is true of our voluntary muscles.
He that should endeavour to labour at the same thing constantly, he that should
attempt to nm or walk without relaxation, he that should exercise the same class
of muscles in writing, in the practice of music, in climbing, or in holding the limb
in a fixed position, would soon be sensible that he was violating a law of nature,
and would be compelled by a fearful penalty to pay the forfeit. Nay, in doing
these very things, in running, or leaping, or climbing, or in the most rapid execu-
tion of a piece of music, nature has provided by antagonist muscles that the great
law demanding repose shall not be disregarded. A long-continued and uninter-
mitted tension of any one of the muscles of the frame would soon bring us into
conflict with one of the universal laws of our being ; and we should be reminded
of the existence of those laws in such a way that we should feel that they must be
observed. Yet the operation of this law of our nature is not enough. We need
other modes of rest than those which can be obtained by the intermitted action of
a muscle which is soon to be resumed. We need longer repose ; we need an entire
relaxation of the system ; we need such a condition that every muscle and nerve
shall be laid down, shall be relaxed, shall be composed to rest, and shall be left in
an undisturbed position for hours together, where there shall be no danger of its
being summoned into action. Nature has provided for this too, and this law must
be obeyed : for a few hours only can we be employed on our farms, or in our mer-
chandise, and then the sun refuses us light any longer, and night spreads her
sable curtains over all things, and the affairs of a busy world come to a pause.
Darkness broods on the path of man, comes into his counting-house and his
dwelling, meets him in his travels, interrupts his busiest employments, wraps the
world in silence ; and he himself sympathizes with the universal stillness of nature,
and sinks down into a state of unconsciousness. The heart continues, indeed, still
to beat, but more gently than under the excitements of political strife, of avarice
and revenge ; the lungs heave, though more gently than in the hurry and excite-
ment of the chase, or in the anxious <i£fort for gold. But the eyelid heavy will not
suffer the eye to look out on the world, and even its involuntary action entirely
ceases, and it sinks to repose. The ear, as if tired of hearing so many jarring and
discordant sounds, hears nothing ; the eye, as if wearied with seeing, sees nothing;
the agitated bosom is as calm as it was in the slumberings of infancy : the stretched
and weary muscle is relaxed, the nerve is released from its office of conveying the
intimations of the will to the distant members of the exhausted frame. The storm
may howl without, or the ocean roll high its billows, or perhaps even the thunder
of battle may be near, but nature will have repose. Napoleon, at Leipsic, ex-
kausted by fatigue, reposed at the foot of a tree even when the destiny of his
CHAP, n.] ST. MARK. »5
empire depended on the issue of the battle ; and not even the roaring storm at sea
can prevent compliance with this necessary law. (Ibid.) The mighty mind
and the vigorous frame of Napoleon once enabled him to pass four days and nights
in the exciting scenes of an active campaign without sleep, and then he fell asleep
on his horse. The keenest torture which man has ever invented has been a device
to drive sleep from the eyes, and to fix the body in such a position that it cannot
find repose; and even this must fail, for the sufferer will find repose on the rack or
in death. The same law, demanding rest, exists also in relation to the mind, and
is as imperious in regard to the intellectual and moral powers, in order to their
permanent and healthful action, as to the muscles of the body. No man can long
pursue an intellectual effort without repose. He who attempts to hold his mind
long to one train of close thinking, he who pursues far an abstruse proposition, and
he who is wrought up into a high state of excitement, must have relaxation and
repose. If he does not yield to this law, his mind is unstrung, the mental faculties
are thrown from their balance, and the frenzied powers, perhaps yet mighty, move
with tremendous but irregular force, like an engine without balance wheel or
*♦ governor," and the man of high intellectual powers, like Lear, becomes a raving
maniac. So with our moral feelings. The intensest zeal will not always be on
fire, the keenest sorrow will find intermission, and even love does not always glow
with the same ardour in the soul. This law, contemplating our welfare, cannot be
violated without incurring a fearful penalty. (Ibid.) The Sabhath breaks the
monotony of lije : — The mind is not in a condition for its best development when
it is under an unbroken influence of any kind, however good in itself. It is not
made for one thing, but for many things ; not for the contemplation of one object,
but of many objects. Life is not all one thing ; it is broken up into many interests,
many hopes, many anxieties, many modifications of sorrow and joy. On the earth
it is not all night or all day, all sunshine or aU shade, all hill or all vale, all
spring or all winter. No man is made exclusively for any one pursuit, or for the
exercise of one class of affections or feelings only, or to touch on society, like a
globe on a plain, only on one point. Now look one moment, for illustration, at
the effect of unbroken and uninterrupted worldliness on a man's mind. The man
referred to may develop, in the highest degree, the powers of mind which constitute
the successful merchant ; he may have a far-reaching sagacity in business ; he may
never send out a vessel on an unsuccessful adventure ; he may possess the powers
of calculation in the highest degree ; he may become rich, and build him a palace,
and be •' clothed in fine linen and purple ; " but what is he then ? Is he a man in
the proper sense of the word man ? There is but one single class of his faculties
which has ever been developed, and he is not a man : he is but a calculating
machine, though the powers of his nature may have been carried as far as possible
in that direction. But what is he as a social being ? Beyond the circle of the
most limited range of topics he has no thoughts, no words. What is he as an
inteUeetual being T Except in one limited department of the intellectual economy,
his mind has never been cultivated at alL What is he as a man of sensibility, of
refinement, of cultivated tastes? Not one of these things has been cultivated, and
in none of them, unless by accident, has he any of the qualities of a man. He is
acquainted with the world for commercial purposes only ; he knows its geography,
its ports of entry, its consuls, its custom-house laws ; but he knows not the world
as an abode of suffering and of wrong, and, I may add, as dressed up in exquisite
beauty by its Maker. Man, in the costume of Chma or India, he knows as a traf-
ficker : man, as made in the image of God, and as a moral being, he knows not in
any costume or land. This unbroken influence on the mind the Sabbath is adapted,
without perilhng anything good, to break up. {Ibid.) The Sabbath nefd not be
a day of gloom : — There is enough to be accomplished in every soul by duties appro-
priate to the day, to rescue every moment from tedium and ennui. If it were as
pleasant to man to cultivate his heart as it is his intellectual powers ; if he felt it
to be as momentous to prepare for the life to come, as for the present world ; if he
delighted in the service of his Maker, as he does iu the society of his friends below —
the difficulty would not be that it would be impossible to fill up the day, but that
the hours on the Sabbath had taken a more rapid flight than on other days, and
that the shades of the evening came around us when our work was but half done.
Let this one thought be borne with you to your homes, if no other, that the appro-
priate work of the Sabbath is the heart, all about the heart, all that can bear upon
it, all that can make it better ; and, I am persuaded, you will see no want of appro-
priate employment for one day in seven. See what there is in your heart perm**
B6 TEE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. iu.
nently abiding there that demands correction. See what an accumulation of bad
influences there may be during the toils and turmoils of the week, that may require
removal. See how in the business of the world, in domestic cares, in professional
studies or duties, the heart may be neglected, and there may arise a sad dispropor-
tion between the growth of the intellect and the proper affections of the sord. See
how, in the gaieties and vanities of life, the pursuits of pleasure, the love of flattery
and applause, there may have been a steady growth of bad propensities through
the week, not, for one moment, broken or checked. See how there may have been
a silent but steady gro\vth of avarice, pride, or ambition, all through the week,
riveting the fetters of slavery on the soul, and bringing you into perpetual and
ignoble bondage. See the tendency of all these things to harden the heart, to
chill the affections, to stifle the voice of conscience, and to make the mind grovel-
ling and worldly. See what an unnatural growth the intellect of man sometimes
attains to, while all the finer feelings of his nature, like fragrant shrubs and beau-
tiful flowers under the dense foliage of a far-spreading oak, are overshadowed and
stinted. And then see what in nature and in grace is open for the cultivation of
the heart — the worship of God adapted to assimilate the soul to the Creator, the
Bible full of precepts and promises bearing directly on the heart. {Ibid.) I.
Thb ©ay designed. '• The Sabbath was made for man " by Him who also made
man. II. The day pebvebted. It is so, and variously, by different people. 1. These
Pharisees made it everything, and regarded the day more than man, and his need
(to supply which it was first given). 2. Others pervert it by regarding it as a day
for mere physical rest and recreation, as if man were a mere animal. Such are
Becxilarists and materialists, &c. 3. Others, again, pervert the day who make it a
day for study, as if man were a purely intellectual being. Such would open
museums. III. The day changed. Learn — 1. Bightly to understand the Sabbath
as meeting a human need. 2. To honour the Lord of the Sabbath by preserving
His day from innovation, and by services of religion and mercy. " It is lawful to
do good on the Sabbath day." 3. A practical reverence for the Lord of the day is
the best way to keep the day from being stolen from us. (C. Gray.) A world
without a 5a66at/».---A world without a Sabbath would belike a man without a
smile, like a summer without flowers, and like a homestead witboat a garden.
It is the joyooB day of the whole week. (H, W» Beecher.)
CHAPTER in.
Tkb. 1-6. And there was a man there which had a withered band.— T%«
withered hand : — I. What the witbebed hand may be said to syhbolizs. 1. It
represents capacity for work. By the hand the toiling millions earn their bread.
S. The hand stands as the symbol of fellowship. This is what our custom of
shaking hands expresses. 3. There is one more thing symbolized by the hand —
generosity. By the hand we convey our gifts. II. The causes of the hand's
wxthxbino. 1. The first suggestion is that, like some forms of blindness and cer-
tain deformities, it is sometimes a sad, inexplicable inheritance, possessed from
birth. 2. The hand would become withered, I should think, if you fastened tight
ligatures or bandages round the arm so as to impede the free circulation of blood.
Our narrowness may cause the same result. 3. And then, perhaps, another cause
may be cited — disuse of the hand, if long-continued. Nature's gifts are cancelled, if
not made use of. IH. The ueans or healing. 1. The man is made to *' stand
forth." The healthful effects which flow to a man when he is drawn out of the
solitude of a self-shrouded life, and constrained by force of circumstances to come into
contact with other h^man beings. We need to be stored up with all sorts of social
agencies. 2. There is another thing in this narrative— obedience to Christ. His
obedience evidenced his faith. {W. S. Houghton.) The withered hand : — ^I. The
MXANINO or THE wiTHEBED HAND. The diseasc was not like the palsy, a type of
sniversal inaction ; it was not like some consuming fever, a type of the way in
which sin and vice pervert all the faculties of the soul ; but there was a vivid pic-
ture of that infirmity which destroys a man's power of doing anything well in this
world of ours. The hand of man is one of those noble physical features which
distinguish him from the brute. ** The hand " is but another name for human
skill, power, and usefulness, and for the studied adaptation of means to ends. 1.
CHAP, m.] ST, MARK, 9T
The bigotry of these Pharisees rendered them nseless in the great kingdom of God,
and destroyed their power of serving Christ. Christ did not keep the Sabbath in
their way, and that was enough for their malice. That man with a •• withered
hand " was an apt picture of the way in which their bigotry had incapacitated them
for any holy service. Bigotry ties up men's hands still. 2. Prejudices wither up
Bome of the energies of men. By prejudices I mean opinions taken up without
sufficient reasons, and maintained with obstinacy ; opinions that rest on feelings
rather than on facts. There are many men — and professing Christians, too — who are so
full of obstinate prejudices that they invariably find fault with every good work that
has to be done, and with every possible way of doing it ; but who very seldom do
anything themselves. Their hand is withered. 3. Past inconsistencies often wither
up the power of service. It is a mournful truth that if a man has once forfeited
his character for integrity, or Christian prudence, he may have repented ; but still
his power for service is crippled. 4. Easily-besetting sins will paralyze the useful-
ness of any man who does not with earnestness wage war against them. Let a man
yield himself indolently to the slavery of an evil habit, idle talk, vain thoughts, he
will soon find that his hand is withered, that his power of serving God is gone.
Indolence, fear of man, ungovemed temper, paralyze our energies. II. The heal-
XNO OF THE WITHERED HAND. Christ Came into this world not mainly to set men
free from the bondage of sin, but to emancipate all his faculties for holy service.
There are three lessons we may learn from this narrative. 1. We may gather Christ'i
willingness to heal us. 2. The way in which we are to make use of Divine strength.
When the man willed to stretch forth his hand, God willed in him ; the communi-
cation of Divine strength was granted to him at the very moment when he deter-
mined to obey the conmiand of Christ, If we will we may make the Divine strength
our own. Verily while we " work out salvation with fear and trembling," God is
working " within us both to will and do of His good pleasure." 3. Here is the
great rule by which at all times, through the help of God's grace, we may overcome
our listlessness and uselessness in His service. It is by our own vigorous
effort to overcome the withering up of our faculties that we shall test the worth of
Divine promises. {H. JR. Reynolds^ B,A.) Restoring of the man with the withered
hand .-—The scene or this mibaclb — ♦* He went into their synagogue." We often
find our Saviour in the synagogue. 1. To show respect for Divine institutions.
Places of worship may be despised by some, but not by Christ who came to do His
Father's will. 2. To secure the great objects of His own mission. He appeared
as a Divine Teacher, and frequented the synagogue in order to make known the
glad tidings of His kingdom. H. The pebson on whou this mibacle was wbouoht.
We are first shown — 1. The nature of his complaint. He was not affected in his
whole body, but in one of his members. 2. Something similar to this was occasion-
ally inflicted as a Divine judgment. Jeroboam (1 Kings xiii.). 3. This case may
be regarded as a representation of man's spiritual condition. By sin the powers of
his soul have been paralyzed. IH. The dispute bt which this mibacle was
PBECSDSD. 1. The question proposed — " Is it lawful to heal on the Sabbath
day?" 2. The conclusive reply — "What man shall there be among you, <feo."
Interest is a very decisive casuist, and removes men's scruples in a moment. It is
always soonest consulted and most readily obeyed, 3. The verdict pronounced —
•* The Son of man is Lord even of the Sabbath." IV. The manneb xn which thb
uiBACLB WAS PERFORMED. 1. An authoritative mandate — ** Stretch forth thine
hand." 2. An instant compliance. 3. A gratifying result — " And it was restored
whole, like the other." (Expository Outlines.) Withered hands : — If there were
no withered hearts there would be no withered hands — make the fountain clear, and
the stream will be pure. {Dr. Parker.) TJie human side of a miracle: — No great
stretch of imagination is needed to see in this narrative a picture of man's spiritual
state. The gospel of Jesus not merely tells us what we ought to be, but gives the
power by which we actually become that which it requires. There have been many
teaching gospels, but this is the only transforming gospel. But the strength of
grace is bestowed upon conditions, and these seem to be set forth in the text,
" Stretch forth thine hand." By the command of the text three conditions were
demanded. I. It is easy to see that there was faith required. His faith had much
to encourage it; yet he would perhaps feel something of that diffidence which
makes it hard to realize as possible to oneself the blessings which have come to
others. His faith would also be somewhat severely tested by the manner in which
the Saviour dealt with him. Moreover, it appears that there was no outward act on
the part of our Lord. It was merely bv a word that the invisible power was com-
7
98 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. ni.
mnnioaled. This faith was indispensable. It was a condition invariably demanded.
Without it Jesus wrought no miracles. Unbelief hinders His merciful designs.
Faith is the mysterious moral force which thrusts out the hand of humanity to take
the gift Divine. II. The faith of this man was accompanied by obedience. The
commands, " Stand forth," *' Stretch forth thine hand," were by no means easy to
obey. But undaunted he obeyed, and in the very act of obedience he found the
blessing that he craved. This obedience was the fruit of his faith, and the faith which
does not produce obedience is of little worth. Saving faith is always obedient faith,
III. It seems evident that there was needed in the case of this man a strong resolu-
tion. This may appear from what has been already said. Still more if we consider
the act which was required of him. But he found that the law of Christ is, Obey,
and thou hast the power. (S. S. Bosward.) Analogies of faith: — You say, "I
have no faith." We answer, " Believe, and faith is yours." Does it seem a para-
dox. But paradoxes are often great truths, and are only hard to us because they
come to us from a higher region, where our poor logic is of small account. But how
many analogies there are of this paradox of faith even in the lower spheres of life I
How often is the ability to perform an act, not merely revealed, but actually deve-
loped or even created by the very effort to accomplish it 1 How many works exist
to-day as monuments of genius which never would have existed if their authors
had waited till they had the necessary power. So it is in the matter of salvation.
You can never have it till you take it. You will never have the gift of faith
until you believe. Your will is all God waits for. He speaks by His prophet
thus: •♦ Hear, ye deaf, that ye may hear; and look, ye blind, that ye may see."
And by His incarnate Son He says to every impotent soul, " Stretch forth thine
hand I" {Ibid.) Stretch forth thine hand : — I. Christ sometimes enjoins what
seems to be impossible. II. Faith is shown in doing what He commands, even
when it seems to be impossible. III. Where there is the •' obedience of faith,"
power will be granted. {A. F. Muir, M.A.) Divine kindne$s amid human opposi-
tion : — The destructive effects of sin are abundantly seen in this life. It destroys
men's mental eyesight, making them blind to their own best interests. Notice
here — I. The Divine Healeb seeking opportunity to do good. 1. The path-
way of filial obedience is the pathway of useful service. Jesus went to the synagogue
because there He was sure to meet with human needs. He went to do good as well as
to get good. These two things are identical at the root. 2. The comprehensiveness
of God's purpose puts to shame the selfish narrowness of man's. No place or day can
be too sacred for giving free play to the love of God. H. The Divinb Healer
disciplining the faith of the distressed. The measure of our present strength
is not the limit of what we can do. Divine help supplements human endeavour.
III. The Divine Healer provoking the hostility of the proud. 1. It is
possible for man's will to resist Divine influence. 2. The choicest blessing can be
perverted into the direst curse. 3. Contact with Jesus makes men either better or
worse. The ice that is not melted by the midsummer sun is greatly hardened
thereby. IV. The Divine Healeb doing good, heedless of His own interests.
Come what may, Jesus Christ must do good. It was the natural forth-putting of
His inexhaustible love. It is as natural for Christ to show unmerited kindness as
for the sun to shed its light, the rose to diffuse its fragrance. (D. DavieSy M.A.)
A withered hand : — We may behold our own weakness in this emblem, which repre-
sents that total inability of doing good to which sin has reduced mankind. A
withered hand, in the sight of God, and in the eyes of faith, is — (1) a covetous
wretch, who bestows on the poor Uttle or no alms at all ; (2) a lukewarm and negli-
gent Christian, who performs no good works ; (3) a magistrate or person in authority,
who takes no care to maintain order and justice ; (4) a great man who abandons
the innocent when oppressed. None but Thou, 0 Lord, can heal this withered
hand, because its indisposition proceeds from the heart, and Thou alone canst apply
Thy healing and almightyhand to that. {Quesncl.) Publicity : — There is no public
action which the world is not ready to scan ; there is no action so private which the
evil spirits are not witnesses of. I will endeavour so to live, as knowing that I am
ever in the eyes of mine enemies. {Bishop Hall.) The good eye and tlie evil
eye: — " They watched Him." And He watched them. But with what different
eyes! The evil eye, like the eye of the serpent, confuses with distress, overcomes by
pain ; and a good eye, like the eye of man fronting the wild beast of the forest,
subdues. But the evil eye makes us a prey; the good eye subdues the beast
of prey itself. If we can but gaze calmlv on the angry face of the world, we have
already half tamed that great foe. Christ went on His daily course surrounded
fBAT. m.] ST. MARK. 99
with evO eyes. He did indeed face the angry world. Men quailed before Him, mul-
titudes hushed, and enemies whose tongue was arrogantly loud, were silenced. But
think not that courage can be exerted even by the best without frequent anguish.
To be watched by the unkind, even if we can maintain our composure and good
will, inflicts a pang ; and to be watched in time of festive and unsuspicious pleasure
by the enemy, instead of being permitted to utter all with unusual freedom through
the presence of kind sympathy — this is indeed distressing. (T. T. Lynch.) •* To
save life or to kill f '* — The man was not in danger of his life, and he would have sur-
vived undoubtedly had no cure been wrought. But that question implied, that not
to give health and strength, not to restore the vital power when the restoration lies
within your reach, is equivalent to taking it away. To leave a good deed undone is
hardly less sinful than doing a bad one. {H. M. Luckock,D. D. ) The sin of neglect-
ing to do good : — In God's account there is no difference, in regard of simple unlawful-
ness, between not doing good to the body or life of our neighbour, in the case of
necessity, and doing hurt unto them: he that doth not good to the body and
life of his neighbour (when hia necessity requireth, and when it is in his power)
is truly said to do hurt unto them, at least indirectly and by consequence. The
rich glutton, e.g-^ in not relieving poor Lazarus, may be truly said to have murdered
him. The reason of which is, because both these, as well the not doing of good
to our neighbour's body and life, as the doing of hurt to them, are forbidden in the
sixth commandment, as degrees of murder ; therefore he that doth not good, he that
shows not mercy to his neighbour's body in case of necessity, is truly said to do
hurt, and to show cruelty against it. How deceived, then, are those who think it
enough if they do no harm to others, if they do not wrong or oppress them, though
they take no trouble to relieve or help them. Let us clearly understand this : that
not to save life is to destroy it, though not directly, yet indirectly and by conse-
quence. They are both degrees of murder, though the latter is a higher degree
than the former. Let this move us not only to forbear hurting our neighbour, but
also to make conscience of doing good to him. {O. Fetter.) Christ and the
Sabbath: — They watched Him with an evil eye. Not to understand but to
bring accusation against Him. I. The world watched the Savioub ; the wobld
WATCHES THE Saviour'b DISCIPLES. ** No man liveth to himself.** The eye
of the world is always on the Church, on every disciple, just as it was on the
Church*s and the disciples' Lord. What a lesson of circumspection this should
read ! IL The Saviour did good on the Sabbath day ; rr is the duty of His
DISCIPLES TO do GOOD. Did men expect that He would be held within the stone
walls of Jewish ceremonialism? [J. B. Lister.) Good lawfully done on the
Sabbath: or^ love the over-ruling law: — At other times the defence of the Lord
was based on the nature of the works which He had performed. He held
snd taught that "it was lawful to do good on the Sabbath day.'* Nay, He
went farther, and maintained that there is a class of duties which we not only
may, but must perform on that day. It was ordained at first for the benefit
of man, and, therefore, it was never intended that it should operate to hia
detriment. Whenever, therefore, an injury would be inflicted on a fellow-man by
our refusing to labour for his assistance on the Sabbath, we are bound to exert our
selves, even on that day, for his relief. Nay, more ; in the case of the lower
animals, when an emergency shall arise like that which a fire or a flood creates, or
when a necessity exists like that which requires that they shall be regularly fed,
the higher law of benevolence comes in and suspends, for the moment, the lower
law of rest. There are thus degrees of obligation in moral duties. As a general
rule children are bound to obey their parents ; but when that obedience would
interfere with their duty to God, the stronger obligation comes in and requires
them to do what is right in the sight of God. In chemistry you may have a
substance which, yielding to the law of gravitation, falls to the bottom of the vase ;
but when you introduce another ingredient, you shall see the particles, whose weight
formerly held them down, rising in obedience to the mightier principle of aflfinity,
and combining to produce a new result. Precisely so the new principle of love
operates in the interpretation of law. All law is for the good of man and the glory
of God ; and when the highest welfare of the individual creates a necessity, love
is to seek to meet that emergency, even though in doing so it may seem to be
violating the Sabbath. {W. M. Taylor, D.D.) The power of the human hand : —
The hand of a man is one of those noble physical features which distinguish him
from the brute. " The hand " is but another name for human skill, -po-^er. and
usefulness, and for the studied adaptation of means to ends. By his hand, as the
100 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. in.
servant of his intellect and his heart, man is put on a physical level with, if not faf
above, all other living beings, in respect of his power to defend himself against the
formidable creatures who are furnished by nature with ponderous and deadly weapons,
both of attack and resistance. By the aid of this wonderful instrument, he can
cover his nakedness, he can build for himself a home, and make the whole world
do his bidding ; he can subdue it unto himself, and fill it with the trophies of hia
mastery. The houses, the roads, the bridges, the fleets, the palaces, the temples,
the pyramids, of earth, have all been wrought by the little hands of men. The
agriculture and industry by which the whole habitable face of our globe has been
fashioned into '* the great bright useful thing it is," have been the work of man'a
hand. While the working-man's hand is his sole capital, the hand of man is
constantly used as the symbol of power and the type of developed and practical
wisdom. The hand conmiits thought to paper, and imagination to marble and to
canvas. Literature, science, and art are as dependent on its service, as are the
toils of the labourer, or the fabric of the artizan. If manual toil is economized by
machinery, still man's hand is essential for the construction of the machine, and
for its subsequent control, so that the hand is the symbol and the instrument of all
the arts of human life. We can, therefore, scarcely refrain from the thought that
that " withered hand " in the synagogue was a type of uselessuess and feebleness;
and that " right hand," as St. Luke describes it, robbed of its nourishment,
hanging helplessly in a sling, was a picture of whatever deprives a man of the
power of holy work, and renders him an encumbrance, if not a mischief, in God'i
great kingdonu (H, R, Reynolds, B.A,)
Ver. 6. Being grieved for the hardness of their hearts. — The anger of Christ .•—
I. But is anger a passion which it was bight fob Chbist to show and to feel f
And if it were right for Christ, is it equally right for us ? The answer to the first
question is simple enough. As the Holy One, the very presence of evil must be
abhorrent to Him. He may be reconciled to the sinner, but He can never be
reconciled to sin. His whole nature revolts from the evil thing. It was not then
the mere ebullition of passion. It was not a sudden outburst of rage. It was
righteous wrath. It was the emotion which stirred His whole being, just because
sin is the utterly opposite of Himselt The trained eye is offended with that which
is distorted and ugly ; the trained ear is pained beyond expression with that which
violates the very elements of harmony ; and the perfect heart loathes and cannot
but be angry with sin. Can there be any doubt that Christ's anger with sin in
these men also glanced at their relations with other men ? " No man liveth unto
himself." He was angry at the blighting influence of the men's lives. Yet there
was no sin in Christ's anger, although Christ was angry with sin. While His anger
was strong His pity was yet Divine. He was sorrowful at the thought of what it
all meant, and would yet Himself rescue them from the snare. Anger and grief
were blent together in the same mind, just because in His mind there was perfect
holiness, and there was perfect love ; for it is not the stirring and agitation of
the waters that troubles and defiles them, but the sediment at the bottom. Where
there is no sediment, mere agitation will not create impurity. There was none in
Christ. His anger was the auger of a holy Being at sin, at the devil's corruption of
God's creature. His grief was for man, God's offspring. He hated the thing which
alienated the sons from the Father. The anger may well make us tremble, but
should not the pity make us trust ? II. If it were right in Christ to be akgrt
with sin, is it equally bight and becoming in us ? We are always right in being
angry with sin. But just here is the difficulty. We are angry not so much at sin
as at something in it which affects and inconveniences us. It is not that which is
opposed to the holy law of God which most commonly makes us angry, but that
which brings us some petty discomfort and trouble. We see how sin injures others.
Purity will bring its own anger. Eemember, however, that anger with sin is not
something permitted ; it is an emotion demanded. " Ye that love the Lord, hate
evil." But our anger must be interblent with pity. Christ sought to give these
hard-hearted men another chance. He did not permit them to hinder His work.
He would have won them if only they would have opened their hearts to the truth.
It is Christ's great love alone which can fiU our souls with unwearied compassion
for sinners. Beware, then, of thinking that anger with sin is enough. It is but
one-half of our work. Pity is the other half. {J, J. Ooadby.) Anger against
nn blended with pity : — It should be so trained in us by our docile obedience to
Christ, that sin should always, and upon the instant, fire the righteous indignation
CHAP, m.] ST. MABK. 101
of our hearts. It is not to be like that anger which one of the ancients describes
as the fire of straw, quickly blazing up, and as quickly extinguished. It is rather
to become an unquenchable fire. The other half of our duty is equally binding —
that we pity the sinner, and do our best to free him from his thraldom. It is here
that so much yet needs to be done. One may cheaply earn, to our own satisfaction,
a passing praise for righteousness, by anger against sin ; but the best proof that it
is the hateful thing to us which we proclaim it to be, is this, the efforts we make to get
rid of it, the sacrifices we cheerfully bear to snatch men from its bondage, and the
earnestness and persistence of our endeavours to secure their freedom. {Ibid.)
Rules to be observed, that our anger against sin may be good and warrantable : — 1.
We must not be too hasty and sudden in giving way to our anger, without duly
considering that there is just cause for it. 2. We must distinguish between the
offence done against God and any personal indignity we may have suffered. When
these two are combined, as often happens, our anger must be directed chiefly
against the sin ; the offence against ourselves we must forgive. 3. Our anger must
be properly proportioned, according to the degree of sin. 4. We must be impartial,
being displeased at sin wherever and in whomsoever we find it ; as well at our own
sins, as at the sins of others ; as well at the faults of friends as of enemies. 5. Our
anger must be joined with grief for the person against whose sin we are offended.
6. Our anger against the sin must be joined with love to the sinner, making us
willing and desirous to do him any good we can. (G. Fetter.) Christ's anger
not like ours : — There was in Christ real anger, sorrow, and the rest of the passions
and affections as they exist in other men, only subject to reason. Wherefore anger
was in Him a whetstone of virtue. In us (says F. Lucas) anger is a passion ; in
Christ it was, as it were, an action. It arises spontaneously in us ; by Christ it was
stirred up in Himself. When it has arisen in us it disturbs the other faculties of
the body and mind, nor can it be repressed at our own pleasure ; but when stirred
up in Christ it acts as He wills it to act, it disturbs nothing — in fine, it ceases when
He wills it to cease. {Cornelius a Lapide.) Christ's indignation : — The anger
here mentioned was no uneasy passion, but an excess of generous grief occasioned
by their obstinate stupidity and blindness. From this passage the following con-
clusions may be drawn: 1. It is the duty of a Christian to sorrow not only for his
own sins, but also to be grieved for the sins of others. 2. All anger is not to be
considered sinful. 3. He does not bear the image of Christ, but rather that of Satan,
who can either behold with indifference the wickedness of others, or rejoice in it. 4.
Nothing is more wretched than an obdurate heart, since it caused Him, who is the
source of all true joy, to be filled with grief in beholding it. 5. Our indignation
against wickedness must be tempered by compassion for the persons of the wicked.
{T. H. Home, D.D.) The disposition of a wise minister: — This conduct and
these dispositions of Christ ought to be imitated by a wise minister. 1. He
ought to have a holy indignation against those who, out of envy, oppose their own
conversion. 2. A real affliction of heart on account of their blindness. 3. A chari-
table and constant application to those whom God sends to him, notwithstanding
all contradiction. 4. He must incite them to lift up, and stretch forth, their hands
toward God, in order to pray to Him ; toward the poor, to relieve them ; and
toward their enemies, to be reconciled to them. {Quesnel.) Hardness of heart :—
U. Let us show what is meant by hardness of heart. A hard-hearted man, in
the current use of language, means a man void of humanity ; a man of cruel habits.
In the Bible it is a compound of pride, perverseness, presumption, and obstinacy.
It is said of Nebuchadnezzar, "that when his heart was lifted up, and his mind
hardened in pridfl, he was deposed from his kingly throne, and they took away his
glory from him." JI. The causes of hardness of heart. 1. By neglecting the
word and ordinances of God. There is a salutary power in Divine truth of which
it is not easy to give adequate ideas (Psa. Ixxxi. 11, 12). 2. By our slighting and
despising the corrective dispensations of Providence. Wlr^n painful events do not
rouse to seriousness, and fiery trials do not melt to tenderness, we generally see
increased levity and obstinacy. 3. By cherishing false opinions in religion. 4. By
persisting in any known course of sin (Deut xxix. 10)- HL The awful conse-
quences OF hardness of heart. 1. It provokes God to leave men to their own
errors, base passions, and inveterate passions. 2. It involves men in utter and irre-
trievable ruin. •* He that being often reproved, harden^th his neck, shall suddenly
be destroyed, and tiiat without remedy." Learn : 1. How much guilt there is in
hardness of heart. 2. Take the warnings of Scripture against hardness of heart,
8. Take those measures which are absolutely necessary to guard you against ha*-*^!
102 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTIiATOIi. LCflAP. ui.
neef of heart. {J. TJwmton.) Hardness of heart : — I. Thb heabt — figuratively tb«
Beat of feeing, or affection. II. It is said to be tbndbb when it is easily a£fected by the
Bufferings of others ; by our own sin and danger ; by the love and commands of God —
when we are easily made to feel on the great subjects pertaining to our interest
(Ezek. xi. 19, 20). lU. It is habd when nothing moves it ; when a man is alike insen-
sible to the sufferings of others, the dangers of his own condition, and the commands,
the love, and the thieatenings of God. It is most tender in youth. It is made hard
by indiilgence in sin ; by long resisting the offers of salvation. Hence the most
favourable period for securing an interest in Christ, or for becoming a Christian, is
in youth — the first, the tenderest, and the best days of life. {A. Barnes, D.D.)
Hardness of the heart : — Stones are charged with the worst species of hardness —
" as stubborn as a stone ; *' and yet the hardest stones submit to be smoothed and
rounded under the soft Miction of water. Ask the myriads of stones on the sea-
shore what has become of all their angles, once so sharp, and of the roughness and
unoouthness of their whole appearance. Their simple reply is, "Water wrought
witii us ; nothing but water, and none of us resisted." If they yield to be fashioned
by the water, and you do not yield to be fashioned by God, what wonder if the very
stones cry out against you ? {Pulsford's " Quiet Hours.^*) Hardness of heart : —
In that Qirist mourned in Himself for this hardness of their hearts, we may learn
that it is a most fearful and grievous sin, and to be greatly lamented in whomso-
ever it is found. It is that sin whereby the heart of man is so rooted and settled
in the corruption of sin, that it is hardly or not at all withdravra or reclaimed from
it by any good means that are used to that end. Two kinds are to be distinguished.
I. When tile obstinacy and perverseness of the heart is in some measure felt and
perceived by those in whom it is, and also lamented and bewailed and resisted.
This kind of hardness may be, and is, found more or less in the best saints and
children of God (Mark vi. 52 ; xvi. 14). II. That hardness which either is not
felt at all, or, if felt, is not resisted. This is found only in wicked men. It is a
feurful and dangerous sin ; for — 1. It keeps out repentance, which is the remedy for
sin. 2. God often punishes other heinous sins with this sin (Kom. i. 28). 3. God
also punishes this sin with other sins (Eph. iv. 18). 4. In the Bible we find fearful
threatenings against this sin (Deut. xxix. 19) ; Eom. ii. 6). (G. Petter.) Signs
whereby men may know whether their hearts are hardened: — 1. If they are not
moved to repentance and true humiliation for sin, by seeing or hearing of the judg-
ments of God inflicted on themselves or others ; or if they are a little moved for the
time, yet afterwards grow as bad or worse than before. 2. If the mercies of God,
shown to themselves and others, do not affect them and persuade their hearts to turn
to Gk)d (Kom. ii. 4). 3. If the word preached fail to humble them in the sight of
God ; but the more the hammer of the Word beats on their hearts, the harder they
become, like the smith's anvil. These are all evident signs of great hardness of
heart, in whomsoever they are found. And it is fearful to think how many there
are of this rank and number. Let them consider how fearful their case is, and fear
to continue in it. Let them be humbled for it, and lament it. (Ibid.) Remedies
for hard'heartedness : — I. Pray earnestly to God to soften our hearts by the work
of His Spirit, to take away our stony hearts and to give us hearts of flesh. He only
is able to do it, and He has promised to do it if we carefully use the means (Ezek,
xxxvi. 26). II. Be diligent and constant in hearing the Word of God. This is the
hammer which will break the stone ; the fire to melt and thaw the heart frozen in
sin. ni. Meditate much and often upon God's infinite and unspeakable mercy to-
ward penitent sinners (Exod. xxxiv. 6). lY. Meditate seriously upon the bitter
sufferings of Christ. It is said that tne blood of a goat, while it is warm, will
break the hardest adamant ; so the blood of Christ, apprehended by faith, and applied
to the conscience, will break the hardest heart in pieces, with godly sorrow for sin.
V. We are to use Christian admonitions and exhortations one to another : if we see
others fall into any sin, point it out to them in a loving manner, and beseech them
to repent of it ; and if others admonish and exhort us, let us hearken to it. VI. Be
careful to avoid the causes of hardness of heart ; viz. : 1. Habitual sin ; for, as a
way or path, the more it is trodden and trampled upon, the harder it gets, so the
more we inure ourselves to the practice of any sin, the harder our hearts will grow.
It is said of Mithridates, that through the custom of drinking poison, he became so
used to it that he drank it without danger ; so the wicked, by habitual indulgence
in Bwearing, uncleanness, <fec., make these sins so familiar to them, that they can
swallow them without any remorse of conscience. 2. Take heed of sinning againet
knowledge and the light cf conscience. 3. Guard against negligence and cotd-
«HAP. m.j ST. MARK. iM
neas in religious exercises, such as prayer, hearing and reading the Word, Aa.
If we either begin to omit, or else carelessly to perform these duties, by which our
hearts should be daily softened and kept tender, then by little and little we shall be-
come dangerously hardened. (Ibid.)
Ver. 6. How they might destroy Him.— T^i* meannets, evil, and tinfulne»$ of
hatred : — I. The meanness of haxbed is exhibited in the conduct of the Pharisees.
1. They professed to be peculiarly holy and righteous men. But here, on the Sab-
bath, in the synagogue, they watched Jesus, only that they might bring an accusa-
tion against Him. 2. They charged the Herodians with being traitors to their
countr>'. Yet now, in order to accomplish their murderous purpose on Jesus, they
are willing to join hands with them. II. The evil of hatred is here seen. 1. Its
evil effects upon themselves. They grew more and more bitter towards Jesus, and
their hearts and consciences more and more seared. 2. Its evil efifects upon society.
They ultimately induced the people in a fit of madness to demand the murder of
Jesus. III. The sinfulness of hatred. 1. The Bible denounces it as murder
(1 John iii. 15). 2. It is inconsistent with a state of grace (1 John iii. 14 ; iv. 8).
(D. C. Hughes, M.A.) Sin breeds sin : — The Pharisees having before harboured
malice and hatred in their hearts, now show it by seeking Christ's death. From
this we may observe the policy of Satan, tempting and drawing men to the practice
of sin by certain steps and degrees — first to lesser sins, and then to greater and
more heinous ones. First the heart is drawn away and enticed by some sinful ob-
ject : then lust conceives, i.e., consent is given to the sin in heart: then this inward
consent brings forth actual sin : nor does the sinner stay here, but proceeds to the
finishing or perfecting of sin, which is done by custom and continuance in it. This
should teach us a point of spiritual wisdom, viz., to resist sin in the first begin-
nings of it, before we proceed far in it. Withstand the first motions of sin arising
in the heart, or suggested by Satan ; strive and pray against them at first ; and
labour at the very first to cast them out of the heart and mind, and not to suffer
them to lodge or take possession there. Satan and sin are most easily resisted at first ;
but if either of them get hold in us, it will be very hard afterwards to dispossess them!
Be wise, therefore, to resist and keep them out betimes. The only way to be kept
from actual committing of gross sins is to withstand the first motions of those sins.
The only way to be kept from the fearful sin of actual murder is, to guard against yield-
ing to unadvised anger, and especially to take care not to harbour malice and rancour
in our hearts against such as ^sTong us. These lower degrees of murder do often make
way to the highest degree of that bloody sin ; therefore, as thou wouldst be pre-
vented from falling into the latter, beware of giving way to tjie former. Once give
way to the first occasions and beginnings of any sin, and it, is a thousand to one but
thou wilt proceed further in it ; and the further thou goest on in it, the worse and
the harder thou wilt find the return by repentance ; therefore resist it betimes. We
mast deal with sin, if we would mortify it in ourselves, as we do with venomous
creatures such as adders or snakes ; we must kill the young brood. If we could
practise but this one point of resisting the first beginnings of sin in ourselves, how
profitable would it be. How many dangerous sins might we be kept from by this
means. And the not practising of this has been the cause of the fearful falls of
many into most grievous sins. If our first parents, and David, Peter, Judas, had
resisted the beginnings of those sins into which they fell, they had not fallen into
them so dangerously as they did. Let us therefore be warned by their harms, and
beware of giving way to the first occasions and beginnings of any sin, lest if we yield
to them, the devil bring us by degrees to the highest pitch of that sin. {G. Fetter.)
Hatred of Christ : — A generous nature would have hoped for some other result than
is here described ; that on reflection they would mark the love, the omnipotence,
the courage and the tenderness of Christ. Marking these things they might have
learned some more excellent way than that bondage of scrupulous forms under
which they groaned. But, alas I theyjonly feel their discomfiture— not the Saviour's
greatness ; the wound given to their pride — not the lesson given to their conscience.
All His greatness seems to them a reason only for making their efforts to suppress
Him more rigorous. And from the gracious teaching and the wondrous works of
the Saviour they gather only harm and hatred. How true it is that "the carnal
miiid is enmity against God." There is in all of us something which, if not
checked, will grow into hatred of our Saviour. Our envy will make us dislike His
goodness ; our pride, His authority ; our evil, the purity of His precepts ; while
our indolence will make us dislike ELis very love, because of the obligations under
which it lays us. (B. Olover.)
104 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap. m.
Vers. 7, 8. Came unto Him. — A powerful reason for coming to Christ : — I. Tna
ATTRACTION. They had heard wath somewhat of a believing ear. They drew from
what they heard an argument of hope. No doubt they were partly urged to come
to Him by their own sad condition. They also perceived that Jesus was able to
meet their case. II. The gatherino. Hearing did not content them. They did
not wait until Jesus came to them. These people did not stop at His disciples.
These people who came to Jesus in such crowds must have left their business. Many
of them came from a great distance. They came with all their ailments about
them. III. The result. Not one was ever repulsed. All were cured. The
attraction, therefore, grew. Therefore, sinners should come because — (a) Jesus'
name invites them ; (b) His power encourages them ; (c) His character should
allure tbem ; (d) His preparations should compel them. (C. H, Spurgeon.)
Christ accepted by some if hated by others : Christian effort not all in vain : —
All the world is not bound up in a Pharisee's phylactery, nor held in chains by
a philosopher's new fancy. If some will not have the Saviour, others will ; God's
eternal purpose will stand, and the kingdom of His anointed will come. (Ibid.)
Flowers after showers : — I would have you count upon opposition, and regard it as
a token of comin;^ blessing. Dread not the black cloud, it does but prognosticate a
shower. March may howl and bluster ; April may damp all things with its rains,
but the May flowers and the autumn's harvest of varied fruits will come, and come
by this very means. {Ibid.)
Ver. 9. A small ship. — Christ was always willing to accept service : — He borrowed
a boat, an ass, a grave. He accepted a draught of water from a well, a few fishes
from a net, and the money of those women who ministered unto Him. He who
loves the Saviour wUl be surprised to find how many things there are that He can
consecrate and that Christ can use. Some persons cannot preach unless they have
a proper pulpit, their priestly robe, organ, choir, and other things ; but Christ is at
home anywhere, and can preach afloat as well as in the synagogue. Note this
characteristic of Christ. The late Bishop Selwyn, who was a devoted missionary
bishop in New Zealand, said that all a missionary wanted in going about was a
blanket and a frying pan. He might have gathered that homely ease from the
example of the great Master Himself. (R, Glover.)
Ver. 10. They pressed upon Him for to touch Him. — Crowding to touch the
Saviour : — I. The PARAiiLEL between the present times and those of the tsxt.
Jesus had healed many. These have been thoroughly and effectually restored. So
far the parallel exists, but here is the marvel — that those who know this do not
throng to Christ to obtain the self-same blessing. II. What are the sins which
PREVENT the CARRYING OUT OP THIS PARALLEL? Ignorance. Insensibility. Indif-
ference. Procrastination. They really love the disease. III. The grace which
INVITES us TO COMPLETE THE PARALLEL OF THE TEXT. You are Spared in this
world. Spared to hear the gospel. IV. Two cautions which seem to be needful.
Never be content with merely pressing upon Christ. Do not be content with
touching them who are healed. (C H. Spurgeon.) The desire for healing an
instinct of humanity .'—As many as had plagues came to Jesus, that they might
touch Him and be healed. Tell of the annual pilgrimages to the shrine of Thomas
d, Becket at Canterbury, where thousands gathered from all parts of England,
believing that their needs could be supplied and their diseases healed at the shrine
of the saint. It is their needs that to-day take so many to Lourdes and Knock,
Two centuries ago — and the superstition is not dead yet — it was believed that the
touch of a king could heal a certain painful disorder ; how eagerly people sought
for th«)t touch is peen in the case of Charles II. of England, who, in his reign,
touched over a hundred thousand persons for the healing of the •• king's evil."
During the recent famines in India and in Turkey, the houses of the missionaries
were besieged by crowds of hungry people seeking relief. Wheu a medical
missionary first appears in a new district, and his mission is made known to the
people, the sick are brought to him from all the country around. It was therefore
one of the commonest instincts of humanity that brought the needy to Jesus, in
whom only they could find all that they sought.
Ver. 11. And unclean spirits, when they saw Him, fell down before Him.—
Christ's supremacy over evil spirits ; — Whence the commotion in the intelligent
oniyerse when the Saviour entered on His puhUc ministry ? The diseased crowded
CHAP, ni.] ST, MARK, 105
around Him to be healed ; the teachable to hear the words of celestial wisdom ;
the curious to witness the stupendous miracles ; and the captious that they might
entangle Him in His talk. Nor was His audience composed exclusively of men.
Heaven and hell waited on His steps. The Father spake of Him from the excellent
glory ; the Holy Ghost descended upon Him ; sinless angels followed in His train ;
and the demons of the abyss pronounced His eulogium, and deprecated His wrath.
Why this mighty congregation streaming from the remotest points of the universe
to meet Him ? On the principle, doubtless, that where the King is, there is the
Court. Every type of moral being surrounded our Lord. I. Impiety abashed in
THE PRESENCE OF HOLINESS. That devils are conscious of their own character,
and that they are correct judges of the character of other beings, must be admitted
on the simple ground of their intelligence. The consciousness of their awful
degradation remains in unblunted keenness ; and it cowers in the presence of moral
purity. Why do Ananias and Sapphira fall dead beneath the calm questions of
the apostle ? It is falsehood slain by the glittering sword of truth. And why does
Felix tremble when Paul, the prisoner, reasons of righteousness, temperance, and
judgment to come ? No external force is brought to bear upon the governor, no
visible sword hangs over his head ; and yet he trembles ; why ? He is shaken like
a leaf in the hurricane, by an invisible host of memories more powerful far than a
legion of visible foes. Evil confesses the superiority of good ; vice crowns virtue
with a lasting garland ; sin declares holiness to be infinitely above it. H. Divine
TBUTH MAT BE INTELLECTUALLY BECOQNIZED WITHOUT THE ACCOJttPANlMENT OF SAL-
VATION. It is possible for a man to vindicate the truth against all opponents with-
out embracing it ; to contend earnestly for the faith delivered to the saints without
adopting it ; to construct an elaborate system of divinity without fellowship with
the Saviour ; and to preach the gospel in eloquent language without either part or
lot in the matter. III. Here are devils acknowledging the supremacy of the Son
OF God over them. The supremacy of the Son of God, as such, over all creatures,
without respect to their moral character, or their position in the scale of being,
must, of course, be freely admitted. But this is not the point here ; for first, there
is the acknowledgment of this supremacy ; and second, it ie the Son of God in His
character of the Messiah, whose supremacy they acknowledge. They had the
strongest reasons for not looking on the outward appearance but on tiie reality.
They knew Him, and believed, and confessed, and ♦* trembled ! " They worshipped,
but it was in demon fashion, the worship of terror. This confession of supremacy,
as uttered by evil spirits, means this: "We are intruders and impostors, having no
right here. This is Thy world. By falsehood have we gained our position here,
afflicting the bodies, maddening the minds, and ruining the souls of men. We know
our doom, and that Thou wilt pronounce it ; but surely not so soon." It was a
confession of defeat. Lying Ups speak sublime truth for once. IV. He whose
SUPREMACY is ACKNOWLEDGED BY EVIL SPIRITS IS YOUR FRIEND AND SaVIOUR, IF YOU
WILL ACCEPT Him as such. Inferences : 1. In the kingdom of grace, love is a
greater thing than knowledge. Fallen spirits believe and tremble ; worldly men
assent and are indifferent ; Christians believe and love. Christ seeks our affection.
2. Laying hold on the Bedeemer's strength, you are stronger than evil spirits.
They are conquered foes ; conquered by your Saviour ; on your account. In Christ
you have not only righteousness, but strength. 3. Following the Eedeemer, you
will be shortly where evil spirits cannot follow yon. {W. Leask, D.D,)
Ver. 12. That they should not make Him known. — The art to conceal good
deeds :— It is the art of art to hide art, and the glory of glory to conceal glory. It
is only the Christ who can charge the trophies of His healing power that they should
not make BUm known. (L. Pabner.) Creation's glories concealed : — Many of the
most glorious works of God in creation are concealed from the eye of man. Some
of the most beautiful forms in nature are the shells in the deepest depths of the sea.
Nowhere is ornament more richly seen than iu the insects which the most powerful
microscopes enable only a few to see just ouce in their lives. Neither in nature nor
grace does the Lord parade His works before the eyes of men. {Anon.)
Vers. 13-21. And He ordained twelve, that they should be with Eim.—ThU
teas the third stage in the preparation of the disciples for the apostolate : — A certain
number had been admitted at the beginning to terms of intimacy and friendship
with Jesus. Then they had left their secular calling for a time to attend upon EUm.
And now the final step must be taken, and a selection made of such as would giv«
106 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. hi.
themselves wholly to the ^ork, and go no more back to the world. The twelve
apostles are divided by the evangelists into three groups. I. Notice thb manifoij>
VABIETY BEPRESENTED AMONO THEM. 1. In character. Where in the whole world
conld we find dispositions more diverse than in Peter and John — the one ardent
and impulsive, the very embodiment of energy and vehemence ; the other quiet and
contemplative, fitted for nothing so well as the life of a recluse ? 2. In calling.
What callings could be more incongruous than those which Simon and Matthew
had respectively chosen ? The fiery patriot could brook no allegiance to an earthly
ruler, but would do and dare anything to resist the Koman claim to impose taxation
upon the people of God. But his fellow-apostle had degraded himself, of his own
free-will, to exact from his own flesh and blood the obnoxious tribute. Yet such was
the comprehensive work which lay before the ministry of the Church, that a sphere
was found in it for the ''tax-gatherer " no less than the "tax-hater ; " fcr the Jew
who had sold his birthright as well as for their reconcilable naticnalist. Jew and
Greek, bond and free, rich and poor, men of every type and people, were destined
to be embraced in the Catholic Church ; and Jesus Christ foreshadowed the future
when He welded together the most discordant elements in that first society of the
Twelve Apostles. IL Another thought of scarcely less importance arises out of thb
BOGiAL POSITION FBOM WHICH He MADE His CHOICE. The Jcwish Eabbis estimated the
weight of their influence by the rank or wealth or learning of the pupils who sat at their
feet. The first Teacher of Christianity aimed, on the contrary, at attracting the poorest
of men. It may be urged that He had no alternative ; that men in the position of
Joseph and Nicodemus were so reluctant to accept the call that, had He waited for
their adherence, the apostolic roll would never have been filled up in His lifetime.
But His choice of the poor and despised, the ignorant and anleamed, was based
upon a principle which governed the whole of His life on earth ; which selected
for His birthplace the manger of a wayside khan, for His home a humble cottage,
and for His early occupation the trade of an artizan, among a people intellectually
of the lowest type in Palestine. It was in perfect consistency with all that had
gone before that He should associate with Himself for the work of the ministry men
of the humblest rank, who probably knew little more than their letters, and, judged
by a human standard, were worthless for that unto which they were called. ...
For the first three centuries the progress of Christianity was a gradual triumph of
the lowly over the great, till, by the irresistible might of its weakness, it shook the
world and compelled •* the master of legions" to cast his crown at the foot of the
Cross. Then was the vdsdom of His choice demonstrated. (H. M. Luekock, D.D.)
The twelve : — 1. The sons of Jacob were twelve. The princes of the children of
Israel were twelve. The fountains of Elim were twelve. The stones in Aaron's
breastplate were twelve. The loaves of shewbread were twelve. The spies sent
by Moses into Canaan were twelve. The stones of the altar were twelve. The
stones taken out of Jordan were twelve. The oxen which supported the brazen
Laver in the temple were twelve. The stars on the crown of the woman in the
Apocalypse are twelve. The foundations of the heavenly Jerusalem are twelve.
The gates of the celestial city are twelve. The twelve tribes of Israel were the
beginning of the Old Testament Church : the twelve apostles were the beginning
of the New Testament Church. Hence both these numbers joined together describe
the four and twenty elders, representing the entire Church in glory. 2. We have
four lists of the apostles : in Matthew, in Mark, in Luke, and in the Acts. The
order in which the names are given is not the same in all. It has been suggested
that in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke they are enrolled chronologically in the
order of their calling : whereas in Mark and in Acts the matter of personal in-
fluence is made the ground of that order which places Peter always first and Judas
always last. I. What were the characteristics of the twelve as a body. 1. They
were men of good health. Mr. Talmage says : *♦ Christ did not want twelve invalids
hanging about Him, complaining all th« time how badly they felt. He leaves the deli-
cate students at Jerusalem and Eome for their mothers and aunts to take care of, and
goes down to the sea-shore, and out of the toughest material makes an apostleship.
The ministry need more corporeal vigour than any other class. Fine minds and
good intentions are important, but there must be physical force to back them. The
intellectual mill-wheel may be well built and the grist good, but there must be
enough flood in the mill-race to turn the one and to grind the other." And, yet,
how many invalids in the pulpit have been stars of the first magnitude ? Witness
Robert Hall, McCheyne, and Robertson of Brighton, England. 2. They were men
without power. They had no social or political rank. 3. They were laymen. This
ifiiLp. III.] ST, MARK. Vn
also iB significant. Men of ecclesiastical or philosophical influence, who are com-
mitted to the support of a certain system of truth, are not free from prejudice. In
the seventeenth century William Harvey discovered the circulation of the blood —
a fact which no sane man disputes. Arid yet no physician forty years of age in
that day accepted Harvey's discovery. So great is the power of prejudice I These
laymen, chosen by Christ, were imshackled ecclesiastically and philosophically. It
appears unfortunate that Martin Luther was an ecclesiastic. His work had been
more thorough, but for certain Church shackles which even his great soul was
unable to shake off. Witness the Lutheran Creed and the present condition of
Germany. 4. They were simple men. Now, Mohammed, for example, was not
a simple man. He was a dissembler. Jesus of Nazareth calls no man common or
unclean, -^sop was a slave. Protagoras was a porter. Terence was a slave.
Horace was the son of a slave. Among the poets. Gay was apprentice to a draper
and Prior was a tavern boy. Pope was the son of a draper, Keats of a livery-stable
keeper, and Chatterton of a sexton. Ben Jonson worked for his bread as a brick-
layer. II. Why did the Lord choose apostles ? 1. In order to crowd into a brief
public ministry as much work as possible. His public ministry was so brief, that
but for the co-operation of the twelve He could not have spoken all the words of
wisdom or done all the acts of mercy which crowned and crowded that eventful life.
In the great religious movement of the last century in England, John Wesley evinced
a sagacity superior to that of either Whitefield or his brother Charles, in securing
co-workers and doing in general the work of an organizer. AU great teachers have
done the same. Witness Socrates, Peter the Hermit, Luther, Loyola, and Savonarola,
of Florence. 2. In order to provide testimony after His death. The apostles were to
bear public witness of all they saw and heard whilst remaining with Him. Chris-
tianity then is historic, and is a system of doctrines resting upon facts. 3. In
order to estabhsh a body of men who should bear the public seal of the Church,
viz. : Miracles. 4. To shield, by miraculous power, feeble Churches. {W. F. Bishop.)
The ministerial office: — ^Bishops and clergy are called to the ministry of Jesus Christ —
1. In order to work with Him, extend, complete, and continue His priesthood upon
earth. 2. To preach His Word, and make known His truth, and the mysteries of
the kingdom of heaven. All ecclesiastical functions are denoted by preaching,
because this is a principal duty of the clergy, and it is by means of the Word and
instruction that the Church is established and perpetuated. 3. To be the physicians
of souls, and apply themselves to heal their diseases. 4. To wage war with the
devil, and destroy his kingdom. Whoever looks upon the ministerial office as a
■tate of ease, and not of continual labour, understands but very little these words of
Christ. (Qtiesnel.) Christ and His disciples : — A superhuman worker will ha/e
his own superhuman methods. I. Christ's methods. No man would have begun
in such a way. 1. He wrote nothing. Plato has left us the description of his
*' Ideal Republic " — so men have always done ; but the King of the only enduring
kingdom wrote only once — in the sand, and not on parchment. Seneca penned his
book on Morals for men to ponder ; but the Christ who knew no sin, and whose
precepts have been planted in every Christian civilization, simply spoke the precepts
which in after years others should write down. The heavenly worker wrought in
an unearthly way. 2. He chose unlettered men. When Carlyle speaks and
Emerson ponders, the world puts its hand to its ear to catch even the lowest spoken
truths ; but it may be that some fisherman coasting the shore of Solway Firth, or
some sower of seed on the fields of Concord, shall stand higher in God's view than
even the rugged Scotchman and the honoured sage of America. The Saviour of
mankind, the Hevolutionist of the ages, the Son of the Highest committed Himself,
His power. His teachings, to twelve plain and hitherto unbonoured men, all of
them common people, and all of them unlearned. 3. The character of the twelve.
Judged from a human point of view, they were certainly unpromising men — slow
of heart, dull of understanding, weak in action, and one false at heart. But time
has shown that Christ made no mistake. By so much as His apostles' characters
were incomplete, and in so far as the Christian faith has ruled in the earth, even so
His mysterious choice is vindicated beyond cavil. Upon them He stamped His own
greatness. 11. The plan involved in Christ's methods. Nothing Divine is ever
done by chance. (G. R. Leavitt.) The twelve : — I. Christ thought fit to employ
human agents in tne promulgation of His religion. II. Christ selected His agents
by virtue of His own wisdom and authority. HI. Christ chose His trusted apostles
from a lowly position of society. IV. Christ appointed agents with various gifts,
qualifications, and character. V. Christ recognized and employed the special gifts
108 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. ra»
of His disciples in His own service. VI. Christ qualified these agents by keeping
them in His own society and beneath His own influence. VH. Christ Himself
commissioned and authorized these agents. 1. To preach the gospel. 2. To cast
out devils. {J. R. Thomson, M.A.) Christ's choice of His helpers: — The wholt
instruction of this story for our use now turns upon the word ** chose;" for it
reveala the fact that the sovereignty of God as well as His wisdom was in the pro-
cedure. So our several lessons need only to be stated in their order. I. The
earliest matter of notice is this : Our Lord's policy was one op continuous becon-
8TBUCT10N fob oub ENTIRE FALLEN HUMANITY, and not merely an expedient for Hia
own convenience. 1. For a purpose, He might have chosen death, instead of which
He chose life. He could have taken the best of the race up into the air higher than
Ararat, and held them safely, as it were, outside of the world, while He washed the
wicked earth beneath them, and then put them back. He did that once ; but, with
a rainbow for a sign. He said He would never do it again. He evidently planned
now to redeem binners, not to destroy them. 2. For a method. He might have
chosen a permanent incarnation ; instead of which He chose a book. He was now
finding men just to make and perpetuate the New Testament. Ours is a " book
religion," as cavillers call it. Christianity is the Bible, and the Bible is Christianity,
In this form of procedure our Lord indicated that the chief of all approaches to the
human conscience is through the reason, and this He intended to use for His end.
8. For the instruments, He might have chosen angels, instead of which He chose
men. We see that He selected ordinary, poor, humble individuals from the lowliest
callings. Hence, we admit they are suljject to the same laws of estimate and criti-
cism as other men. Not even inspiration changed their peculiar characteristics or
their natural temperaments. 4. For a plan, He might have chosen unofficial repre-
sentatives ; instead of which He chose ordained officers, and organized a Church.
Here, then, is the inalienable warrant for a fixed ministry in the Christian Church
through all time. II. The second matter of notice for ns now is, that our Lord's
selection of His helpers implied obeat vabieties of sebvice m EVANOELiziNa thb
WORLD, BEQUiBiNa DiVEBSiTiBS OF GIFTS. 1. Observo the significant number of these
men. It was large, to begin with, and exceedingly wide in its representative range.
2. Observe, likewise, the special histories of these men. 3. Observe that one of
these men was a treacherous hypocrite, known from the beginning of his career.
III. The next matter of notice in this choice is that Jesus Christ fixed the wise order
in arrangement that discipleship should in all oases comb befobb apostleship.
1. These twelve men needed knowledge of the Divine purposes. That must be the
reason why for so many months they were kept patiently wandering alongside of
oar Lord, as He advanced in His public work. 2. They needed acquaintance also
with human nature. They were to deal with men, women, and children. 3. These
men needed the practical exercise of their teaching gifts under their Master's eye.
So we learn that Jesus arranged that they " should be with Him," before He
*' might send them forth to preach " (Mark iii. 14). 4. They needed experience in
actual dealing with masses of unorganized peopla. IV. Once more, it is a matter
of notice in this choice of helpers, that Jesus showed how pbevious gifts and edu-
cation in other wobe can all be utilized undeb the gospel plan. 1. Becall the
former occupations of these men. 2. Bear in mind with what painstaking Christ
impressed on them the one principle that all success in evangelical work demands
immediate and entire consecration (Luke v. 11, 28). 8. Then see that instantly,
and ever afterwards, their training told. V, Finally, it is a matter of notice that
in His choice of such helpers oub Lobd gate the best of all counsel and examplb
FOB EVERY MAN WHO SEEKS TO BE USEFUL IN THB Church OF GoD. 1. Let Christian
people remember that the Divine purpose, the plan of procedure, the end to be
secured, the selection of instruments — all these, so finely illustrated that memorable
morning beside the Sea of Galilee, remain exactly the same, unchanged through the
ages. The conditions of effective working are quite unaltered. Hence this primitive
wisdom is priceless. 2. Let the churches have confidence in their own machinery,
and be content with New Testament methods of evangelization. There is no neces-
■ity for fresh excitements, and there is no advantage in looking for them. 3. Let
those who desire to take up Christian endeavour for a life-work bear in mind that
training time is by no means for any one lost time. 4. Let the whole world know
that what is wanted first and last and always is a thorough consecration of what
one has to the Lord Jesus Christ. {C. S. Robinson^ D.D.) Christ's worker*
varied : — ^Note the variety of character among the twelve chosen. Every stone in a
Imllding is not alike, yet room is found for all — each in its own place. A painting
•HAP. m.] ST. MARK. 109
if made ap of many oolonrs. Christ will find room in His temple for all who oome
to Blm. (Anon.) Ood employs little and lowly apostles : — ^Look at yonder sun.
Ood made it, and hnng it up there in the sky that it might give light to our world.
But the light whioh this sun gives comes to us in tiny little bits, smaller than the
point of the finest needle that ever was made. They are so small that hundreds o£
them can rush right into our eyes, as they are doing all the time, and not hurt them
the least. Here we see how Ood makes use of little things, and does a great work
with them. And then look at yonder ocean. The waves of that ocean are so
powerful that they can break in pieces the strongest ships that men have ever built.
And yet, when God wishes to keep that mighty ocean in its place. He makes use of
little grains of sand for this purpose. Here again we see how God employs little
things, and does a great work with them. And we find God working in this way
continually. Let us look at one or two illustrations. What a plant did : A little
plant was given to a sick girl. Ip trying to take care of it the family made changes
in their way of living which added greatly to their comfort and happiness. First
they cleaned the window, that more light might come in to the leaves of the plant.
Then, when not too cold, they opened the window, that fresh air might help the
plant to grow ; and this did the family good as well as the plant. Next, the clean
window made the rest of the room look so untidy, that they washed the floor, and
cleaned the walls, and arranged the furniture more neatly. This led the father of
the family to mend a broken chair or two, which kept him at home several even-
ings. After this he took to staying at home with his family in the evenings instead
of spending his time at the tavern ; and the money thus saved went to buy comforts
for them all. And then, as their home grew more pleasant, the whole family loved
it better than ever before, and they grew healthier and happier with their flowers.
What a little thing that plant was, and yet it was God's apostle to that family I It
did a great work for them in blessing them, and making them happy. And that
was work that an angel would have been glad to do. {Dr. Newton.) Power to
cast out devils : — In China, both heathen and Christian agree in marking oft
certain cases, which occur not infrequently, as distinctly cases of ♦* spiritual pos-
session." The Chinese have names for insanity, and for the various forms of
nervous and mental disease, and they distinguish sharply between all these and
another very different condition in which the patient is said to be " possessed of
devils." Miss Gumming tells us *♦ the symptoms are so precisely those which were
thus described in Biblical times, that foreigners, after vainly seeking for some
medical term to express the condition of the victim, are fain to accept the Chinese
solution. They find a being apparently mad, foaming at the mouth, tearing off
every shred of raiment, and wildly appealing to God to let her (or him) alone."
These poor afflicted ones are brought to the Taouist and Buddhist priests, who
perform tedious and expensive exorcisms, which are continued indeed until the
paroxysm abates, and are renewed after the same fashion when it returns. Miss
Gumming says, ** In a considerable number of cases such as these, the native
Christians have been appealed to by their heathen neighbours to see whether they
«oald do anything to help them ; and these, remembering how of old those who had
faith in the Master were enabled to * cast out the spirits by His word,' have sought
to follow in their wake, and, taking up their position beside 'him that was grievously
tormented with a devil,' have thus wrestled in prayer with passionate earnestness,
pleading that the true God would reveal His power in the presence of the heathen,
and concluding with the apostolic words, ♦ In the name of Jesus Christ I command
thee to come out.' Again and again their prayer has been granted, the wild tempest
has been allayed, and the sufferer lulled to a condition of deep peace, whence, after
a while, he has arisen to go forth ♦ clothed and in his right mind ' to tell his heathen
brethren of the marvellous way in which he has been cured, and, in short, to
become from that hour a faithful worker in the Master's cause." {See ** Wanderings
in China,** by C, F. Gordon Gumming^
Ver. 17. And He sumamed them Boanerges, which is, The sons of thunder. —
The sons of thunder : — In what sense this name was applicable to the character
or teaching of these two brethren is not certain, particularly in the case of
St. John, the apostle of gentleness and love. Perhaps, however, if we had
heard him preach, we should have discerned in a moment the fitness of the
name. If he wrote as he wrote in his epistle, there would be much to vin-
dicate the title, for he wrote such terrible words as, *• Who is a liar, but
he that denieth that Jesus is the Christ?" •*He that committeth sin ia of
110 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. in.
the devil." •• Whosoever hateth his brother is a murderer, and ye know that
no murderer hath eternal life abiding in him." And respecting a certain
troubler of the Church he writes, "If I come, I will remember hia deeds which
he doeth." We must remember, too, that this epistle was written in his old
age, when years had toned down his decisiveness and vehemence. Respecting
the preaching of the other brother we know nothing except this, that when Herod
would gratify the Jewish hatred of the gospel, he singled out James as his first
victim, which he would hardly have done unless this apostle also had been foremost
in aggressive energy of speech. (M, F. Sadler.) Gentleness and energy of Chris-
tianity : — I. We will consider some thinos in Christunity that are adapted to
oiVB gentleness to the character. 1. The view which it gives a person of himself.
This, you know, is anything but flattering. Christian humility certainly tends to
promote gentleness. 2. I mention next the view Christianity gives of God and of
eternity. Not only is a person who has felt " the powers of the world to come "
apt to feel that the paltry interests of time are not worth contending for, but
habitual contemplation of eternal realities, and of Him who *• inhabiteth eternity,"
will so awe and elevate the spirit, that it will have the utmost disrelish for con-
tention. Would it not be strange if two persona should quarrel while gazing
together at the cataract of Niagara, listening to its solemn roar, and feeling its
solemn tremor f la it possible to retain anger when you stand at a window, watch-
ing the coming up of a storm ; or at the foot of cliffs, that lift themselves ruggedly
up to the sky ; or on the shore of the ocean, stretching away beyond the utmost
reach of vision, endlessly rolling in its waves, and ceaselessly lifting up its voice I
Christianity, studied, believed, embraced, experienced, causes the soul to dwell
habitually in the presence of sublimer objects than these, and under the influence
of nobler contemplations. 8. The character of Christ, as it is delineated in the
Scriptures, and as the Christian contemplates it, is calculated to promote gentleness.
He is exhibited as "the Lamb of God," — not only a spotless victim, fit for the
sacrifice, but dumb and unresisting when led to slaughter. II. Some things in
ChRISTIANITT that ABE ADAPTED TO QITB ENEBOT TO THE CHARACTEB. 1. Look at the
objects of eflEort which if presents — all that is involved in one's own eternal salva-
tion, and all that tends to the well-being of mankind and the glory of God. 2.
Look at the motives to effort which Christianity supplies. 3. Consider the
examples which Christianity exhibits. I hope you see that the energy which Chris-
tianity inspires does not mar the gentleness which is so beautiful an ornament of
character ; and that the gentleness which Christianity cultivates does not soften
and enervate the soul. The two elements do most harmoniously blend, balancing
and tempering, not at all hindering each other. In all our efforts at self-culture,
let us seek for the attainment of both these elements in scriptural proportions and in
scriptural combination. {H. A. Nelson, D.D.) Thunder in preaching : — If we
thunder in our preaching we must lighten in our lives. {Anon.) Zeal blended
with discretion.' — Barnabas and Boanerges, *• the sons of consolation and of thun-
der " make a good mixture. The good Samaritan pours in wine to search the
wounds and oil to supple them Discretion must hold zeal by the heeL These
two must be as the Hons that supported Solomon's throne. He that hath them
may be a Moses for his meekness and a Phinehas for his fervour. (Trapp.) Be
true to a good name : — Names were given that they might be stirred up to verify
the meaning and signification of them. Wherefore let every Obadiah strive to be
a servant of God ; each Nathanael to be a gift of God ; Onesimus, to be profitable ;
every Roger, quiet and peaceable ; Robert, famous for counsel ; and William, a help
and defence to many . . . that they may be incited to imitate the virtues of those
worthy persons who formerly have been owners and bearers of them. Let all
Abrahams be faithful; Isaacs, quiet; Jacobs, painful (painstaking); Josephs,
chaste ; every Louis, pious ; Edward, confessor of the new faith ; William, con-
queror over his own corruptions. Let them also carefully avoid those sins for
which the bearers of the names stand branded to posterity. Let every Jonah be-
ware of frowardness ; Thomas, of distrustfolness ; Marliia, of worldliness ; Mary,
of wantonness ; <&o., <&c.
Ver. 21. He Is beside Himself. — The sinner mad, not the iaint : — I find St
Paul in the same chapter confesses and denies madness in himself. Whilst he was
mad indeed, then none did suspect or accuse him to be distracted ; bat when con-
verted, and in his right mind, then Festus taxeth him of madness. (See Acts
xxvi. 11). (Thomas Fuller, D.D.) Mad because exceptional : — There is a eoontry
OHAi>. lu.] ST. MARK. Ill
in Africa wherein all the natives have pendnlons lips, hanging down like • dog*i
ears, always raw and sore. Here only such as are handsome are pointed at for
monsters. {Ibid.) Troubled with a good son;— When the son of Dr. Innea
became a missionary, the good old man, who sorely grndged parting with his boy,
said, " Some people are troubled with a bad son, but I am troubled with a good
one."
Vers. 22-26. And the scribes which came down from Jemsalem said. He hath
Beelzebub. — Scribes — a literal knowledge of Scripture vain : — These men were learned
in the law of Moses, having great knowledge and skill in the letter of it ; and yet
they were wicked men, and blasphemers of Christ. How vain a thing it is, then,
for any to glory in their literal knowledge of the Scriptures, as if this alone could
make them good Christians. The Jews boasted of this — that they knew the wiD
of God, and were instructed in the law ; and thereupon they thought themselves
very religious : yet for all that they were wicked hypocrites, living in manifest
breaches of the law. So it is with many nowadays. They think themselves very
religious, becanse they have knowledge in the Scriptures, and can discourse of them
in company, and make a great show of acquaintance with God's precepts. To these
I say, it is well that they have knowledge, and I wish that many had more than they
have. Tet know withal, that if it be but an historical or literal knowledge, without
a sanctified heart to embrace what thou knowest, it shall do thee no good ; thou
mayest, notwithstanding all thy knowledge, be void of all truth of sanctifying grace.
Beware, then, of resting in this. Labour not only to know the Word of God, but
for a sanctified heart to yield obedience to it. Every one has so much saving know-
ledge, as he has grace and affection of heart to embrace and act upon what he knows ;
and without this, all knowledge is ignorance in God's reckoning. The smallest
measure of knowledge with a sanctified heart is more pleasing to God, and more
available to thy salvation, than all the learning and knowledge of the scribes without
sanctifying grace. Look to thy knowledge, therefore, that it be such as not only
fioats in the head but goes down to the heart, and causes it to yield obedience to the
things thou hast learned out of the Word of God. Get tbis wisdom above all
possessions, and thou shalt be rich and learned indeed. (G. Fetter.) Interested
lying : — From the accounts of Matthew and Luke we learn that Jesus had been
easting out a deaf and dumb devil. The work was one of Divine goodness and
mercy. The religious world of the period looked on and called it bad. He cast ont
devils, they said, through Beelzebub, the prince of the devils. Let us beware of thus
giving the lie to the moral sense, for it is the very sin against the Holy Ghost, and
we may be terribly near it without knowing it. The tendency is a common one.
If goodness, or truth, or mercy touch my pocket, or my honour, or my interest, my
51easnre8, or even my prejudices, I will destroy and deny them, when and how I can.
'hat is the tendency. These are spots in our feasts of charity, blots on our profes-
sions. I have known medical men deny cures not wrought by the accredited methods.
The disease has been cast out by fraud, by quackery, or not cast out at all, say they.
When I was in Italy, and the regular Piedmontese army arrived at Naples after
Garibaldi and his irregnlar volunteers had done all the work down south, one heard
nothing but abuse of Garibaldi and his men by the king's officers. They hated
them, they cheapened their valour, they sneered at their sacrifices, even denied their
exploits, attributing all to chance, luck, even to mistake. General Garibaldi had
won, well, in spite of his stupidity. Such interested lying is not confined to the
doctor or the soldier ; it is found in the Church. I have heard clergymen deny the
good work and righteous fruits of congregations opposed to them. I have seen in
the country war between the orthodox rector, who could not fill his church, and the
dissenting baptist, whose church over the way was crowded. The fruits of the Spirit
were there, the devils were defeated ; but the rector still stood out that it was by
Beelzebub, the prince of the devils. {H. R. Haweis, M.A.) Opposition from foes
and from friends : — L The opposition. 1. From friends. 2. From foes. II. How
He met the opposition. 1. The opposition of foes. (1) He shows bow unreason-
able their words are. (2) He makes them reflect who Ho must really be. (3) He
warns them of the danger of so blaspheming. 2. The opposition from friends (vers.
3;^-35). Conclusion : On which side are we ? For Christ, or against Him ? Are we
His open enemies ? Are we His half-hearted friends ? Are we His faithful disciples ?
Fob and against — see what the end of both will be (Matt. x. 32, 33). {E. Stock.)
For or against : — L Those who are not Christ's fbiends abb to be esteemed Hn
foes: " He that is not with Me is against Me "(Matt. xii. 80). 1. The issue is
lia THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. in.
clear. Our Lord begins with saying that even Beelzebub would fall if he suffered
his kingdom to be divided against itself. 2. The decision must be clear. 3. If any
one refuses this issue, and defers this decision, it must be because he is not Christ's
friend, but His foe. One would think that human hearts would welcome such an
offer, and would stand to it with a joyous acceptance unfalteringly to the end.
Alexander the Great was once a£.ked how it was that he had conquered the world ;
and he answered, '• By not wavering." If men had only held the faith as Jesus has
held His covenant, the whole world would have been converted long ago. II. Those
WHO ABB NOT Chbist's TOES ARB His FRIENDS ; SO He says : " He that is not against
OB is on our part " (Mark ix. 40). III. The enemies of Christ are evidenced by
THEiB KNMITT. At first slght this would seem to be a truism : let us see. 1. An
enemy of Christ hates the notion of God's being. 2. An enemy of Christ hates the
notion of God's character. Holiness is the most unpopular of all the Divine attri-
butes. 3. Anenemyof Christ hates the notion of God's law. lb perplexes, restrains,
and condemns him. 4. An enemy of Christ hates the notion of God's plan of
redemption. He is not willing to admit his need, and take his pardon as a lost
■inner. 6. An enemy of Christ hates the notion of God's service. 6. An enemy of
Christ hates the notion of God's sovereignty. IV. The friends of Christ are
BviDBNCED BY THEIB OBEDIENCE — *• Ye are My frieuds, if ye do whatsoever I command
you." This wonderful verse (John xv. 14) will bear an analysis. 1. Obedience to
Christ will be active in its nature. The word here is not feel, but ♦• do." 2.
Obedience to Christ will be universal in its reach. 3. Obedience to Christ will be
submissive in its temper. 4. Obedience to Christ will be affectionate in its spirit.
An old divine says "the obedience of the heart is the heart of obedience." V.
It is wise fob all immortal BEINQS to settle at once WHETHEB they ABE FBIEKOS
OB ENEMIES OF Jebus Chbist. 1, No neutrality is permitted during these war times
in the universe. No negative moral state is possible before God. 2. Those who
teach truth must urge immediate decision on all around them. 3. Any enemy of
Christ can become a friend in an instant, if he will. (C. S. Robinson, D.D.) Satan
not self-destructive : — When the Netherlanders broke away from the bondage of
Spain, they still professed to be loyal subjects of King Philip, and, in the king's
name, went out to fight against the king's armies. That was a kind of loyalty which
King Phihp refused to recognize. The Pharisees professed to beUeve that the devil
was content with loyalty like this — that, in fact, he hugely enjoyed the destruction
of his own works by Jesus, and supplied our Lord with all the help he wanted in
that line. A sane man does not burn his insurance policy, and then set fire to his
house as a means of providing for his family. A loyal soldier will not undermine
his own camp and blow it into the air as a means of increasing the strength of that
camp. The captain who is anxious for the safety of his ship will not step down
into the hold and bore a hole through the ship's bottom. Nor will Satan join in
destroying his own kingdom. That Christ came and destroyed the works of the
devil shows that He is Satan's enemy and Satan's conqueror.
Ver. 27. No man can enter into a strong man's house and spoil his goods. — Tfu
deviVs strength : — Christ is showing that He casts out demons by a greater power
than Satan's, viz., by the power of His own Godhead. This He illustrates
by a comparison taken from one who forcibly enters the house of a strong man,
and makes spoil of it by violent seizure of the goods and weapons that he had in
his house. Such an one must be stronger than the strong man, else he cannot do
it. Even so (says the Saviour) seeing that I have forcibly entered upon Satan's
possession, and have bound him and spoiled his goods, i.e., taken from him that
power and tyranny which he before exercised over the body of him that was pof\.
sessed; and seeing I have also cast him out of his own house, i.e., out of the person
possessed ; hence it may appear that I have done all this by a greater power than
the power of Satan is, even by the power of My Godhead. Note that — 1. Cbrist
likens Satan to a strong man well armed, and furnished with weapons to defend
himself and his house in which he dwells. 2. He likens Himself to One that is
stronger than that stroug man. 3. He resembles the person that was possessed
with the demon to the house of the strong man in which he holds possession. 4,
He resembles the power of Satan to the goods and weapons of the strong man. 5.
He compares the casting out of Satan by Himself to the entering into the strong
man's house, and binding of him, and spoiling of his house, <&o. (G. Fetter.)
Batan being likened to the strong man, this teaches us that he is a creature of great
•toengih and power (Luke xi. 21 ; 1 Pet. v. 8 ; Eph. vi. 12). I. Wherein this
OHAT. m.] ST. MARK, 113
rowER OF THE DEVIL 18 MANIFESTED — 1. In working upon the insensible creatures —
ftir, earth, water, <feo. 2. In worldng upon those sensible creatures that want reason
—beasts, birds, fishes, <fec. He is able to enter into them and to move and work in
khem. 3. On the bodies of men ; entering into them, hurting and annoying them,
vexing and tormenting them with pain and disease. 4. On the minds, hearts, and
affections of men, in tempting them inwardly, and soliciting them to sin by inward
8ngj;;estion. This he does, not directly, but partly by the outward senses repre-
senimg evil objects to them and ko conveying evil thoughts to the mind, and partly
by insinuating himself into the fancy or imagination. II. What kind of poweb it
IS. Not an absolute power, but limited. III. From whence he derives it. From
God only ; and He who gave, controls it. IV. Why God gives him such power.
1, That His own Divine power may the more appear in subduing Satan. 2. For
the trial of His own children. 3. For the executing of His heavy vengeance and
punishment on the wicked by Satan. (Ibid.) " The strong man armed: " — First,
" the strong man armed keepeth his palace." For indeed it is " a palace" — that
soul of yours — made to be a royal habitation ; and well did the King of kings furnish
it for Himself. He had supplied it marvellously with all that should be for royal
use and royal glory, and He had decked it with the most precious ornaments, and
He set a throne there. Is it empty ? No. Who sits on it ? Who is supreme
there over the affections ? Who is that that is holding his silken reins that are as
bands of iron? *' The strong one " — none know how " strong " but those who try
to escape, and throw off his tyranny ; so " strong " that his strength is unseen,
while in stillness and in silence he holds his own ; so " strong " that the greatest
determination of the most strong-minded man, unaided, trying to break any one of
those many bonds, would be as if he were to try to uproot a mountain. And well
is that strong one "armed." Not in vain has he been reading the human heart
for six thousand years ; not in vain are all his vast experiences. Of amazing in-
tellect is he — of immense power — a fallen angel of light, and he can wear all
aspects, and he can bear all disguises. Awful the thought — that as the Lord Jesus
had His " armour " so has that strong one — wherein he rightly trusts. There are
the light, glittering " darts " of pleasure, that which has slain many a mighty one.
And there is the heavy '♦ sword " of unsanctified intellect to lay low the strong-
minded. And there is the " breast-plate " of selfishness, wrapping the heart roand
in its soft indulgences. And there is "the shield" of uncharitable controversy,
which irritates without convincing. And there is *♦ the helmet " of bold presump-
tion, starting high in its false prof essions ; and "the girdle "of infidelity — cramping,
bin<^ng, girding the very loins of the man ; and " the shoes " that walk roughly,
and " the spirit " that takes converse only with itself. So, for years and years,
" the strong one armed " rules, and so he " keeps " his captives quiet. And it is a
weeping sight before the holy angels — those noble courts of man's immortality, so
trodden down, and profaned, and desolate. But *' the stronger " comes ; and now
the fighting begins. Go with me a little way ; for, thank God I that that gentle
One who is so tender with weak and child-like hearts that " He will not bre^ the
bruised reed, nor quench the smoking fax," is yet of such gigantic might that He,
stronger than tiie strongest, can and will trample down all His enemies and ours
under His feet, " till He brings forth judgment unto victory." See, then, how He
"binds." A little while ago some straitening circumstance happened to you, and
you felt strangely circumscribed. Perhaps you were confined to your house;
perhaps you were laid on a sick bed — ^you were shut out from the scenes you loved
BO well — your spirit felt cramped — your life became as a gaUing fetter — and you
chafed against the restraint which you felt, but could not overcome. You did not
know or think at that time that this was the very way by which that " stronger
one" was proceeding to "bind" that old, strong, self-willed, impetuous nature in
you, which, rampant so many years, had done you such grievous harm — you, who
were the slave of your evil passions ! Or, a very heavy trial almost crushed you —
not you, but the old habit — the old affection — the old man in you — which many a
lighter means had been tried, and tried in vain, to subdue and to destroy. Or, a
very deep humiliation visited your heart, and many a high thought of your youth
was brought low — you felt it very hard ; for you did not realize into what pride
" the strong one" was lashing you, and what curbing that proud heart of yours
needed before it could be broken. And remember, even the knocking off the
prisoner's chains will give him pain, and the longer he has worn the chain the
greater the pain of loosening. Now mark " the spoil." " He will bind the strong
man, and then He will spoil his honse." The habit of sin broken, the soul emanei-
8
lU THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. ni.
pated ; Christ is free to claim His own property, which His own blood has pur-
ehased, and His own right hand has rescued. He had restored the property to its
rightful owner. And wondrously, in His infinite love, He " divides the spoils "
which He has taken. You, He gives to yourself, so that that is which was not
before, nor ever could be — He has made you your own. Nevertheless, •* you are
not your own," but His — your own, because you are His. Your heart, which Satan
bound, and He looses, He keeps all for Himself. Your fellowships, your sympathies.
He allots for the Church. Your time, your talents, your energies, your charities,
for the world ; your highest exercises of mind, for communion with Himself ; your
faith for the promises ; your ambition for the extension of the truth, and the
exalting of His own empire; your awe and love for holy worship; your soul,
" bound up in the bundle of life," for heaven, and for eternity ; your knees for
prayer ; your tongue for holy utterances ; your ears for truth ; your eyes to receive
and ^ emit sacred influences ; your feet for mission ; your whole body for saintly
service. So He ** divides the spoils ; " and yet they are all the more one, because
they are divided ; for it is all for all ; and all for aU for Him ; and all for all for
Him for ever. (J. Vaughan^ M.A.)
Vers. 28, 30. All sins shall be forgiven unto the sons of men. — Great sin not un-
pardonabUf but continuance in it : — There is great comfort to be derived from this
statement, for such as are tempted by Satan to think their sins are too great to be
forgiven. Thus thought wicked Cain, and thus many good though weak Christians
are tempted to think still. Let such be assured, that there is no sin so great but
God's mercy is sufficient to pardon it, and the blood of Christ sufficient to purge
away the guilt of it ; neither is it the multitude or greatness of sins simply, that
hinders from pardon, but impenitency in sins, whether many or few, great or small.
Therefore look not only at the greatness of thy sins with one eye, as it were, but
look also, with the other, at the greatness of God's mercy and the infinite value of
Christ's merits ; both which are sufficient to pardon and take away the guilt of thy
most heinous sins if truly repented of. Look therefore at this, that there be in this
a great measure of godly sorrow and repentance for thy great sins ; and labour by
faith to apply the blood of Christ to thy conscience for the purging of thy sins, and
thou needest not doubt but they shall be pardoned. Whether thy sins be many or
few, small or great, this makes nothing for thee or against thee as touching the
obtaining of pardon ; but it is thy continuing, or not continuing in thy sins im-
penitently, that shall make against thee or for thee. To the impenitent all sins
are unpardonable ; to the penitent all sins are pardonable, though never so great
and heinous. Yet let none abuse this doctrine to presumption or boldness in
sinning, because God's mercy is great and sufficient to pardon all sins, even
the greatest, except the sin against the Holy Ghost. Beware of sinning
that grace may abound; beware of turning the grace of God into wantonness,
for God has said He will not be merciful to such as sin, presuming on His
mercy. Besides, we must remember that, although God has mercy enough
to pardon great sins, yet great sins require a great and extraordinary
measure of repentance. (O. Fetter.) Blasphemy : — In that our Saviour, setting
out the riches of God's mercy, in pardoning all sorts of sins, though never so great
(except that against the Holy Ghost), doth give instance in blasphemy, as one of
the greatest ; hence gather, that blasphemy against God is one of the most heinous
sins, and very hard to be forgiven. This sin is committed in the following ways.
1. By attributing to God that which is dishonourable to Him, and unbeseeming
His Majesty ; e.g., to say He is unjust, cruel, or the author of sin, <feo. 2. By
taking from God, and denying unto Him that which belongs to Him. 3. By
attributing the properties of God to creatures. 4. By speaking contemptibly of
Qoi, Pharaoh (Ex. v. 2) ; Nebuchadnezzar (Dan. iii. 15). (Ibid.) Remediet
agaijut this sin of blasphemy : — 1. Consider the fearfulness of the sm. It argues
great wickedness in the heart harbouring it. 2. Consider how God has avenged
Himself on blasphemers, even by temporal judgments. 3. Our tongues are given
as to bless God and man. 4. Labour for a reverent fear of God in our hearts.
6. Take heed of using God's Name irreverently, and of common swearing. {Ibid.)
The man who will not be forgiven, cannot be forgiven : — In one place Jesus seems to
speak of this sin as an action, at another time He calls it speaking a word against
the Holy Ghost. Is there any one word or action that a man or woman can per-
petrate which will for ever cut them off from God's mercy and pardon ? Not one !
Study thia phrase of the scribes, that Jesus cast out devils by Beelzebub, for it was
CHAP. in. J ST. MARK. Ill
the phrase which brought them under sentence for sin against the Holy Ghost, and
you will understand what that sin of theirs really was. The word spoken ui
nothing apart from the state of heart which it reveals. It has only power to save
or damn, because out of the fulness of the heart the mouth speaketh. It bears
witness to that. The sin is not a word or an action, then, but a state — a state of
heart; the state which sees good and denies it; which turns the light into dark-
ness; which can look on Jesus and still lie. Such a state is the unforgiven and
Unforgivable sin in this world — in the eternity that now is or in that which is to
come. Pardon is between two parties ; he who will not be forgiven cannot be for-
given. In the hardened state above described — the state which is sin against the
Holy Ghost — you will not, therefore you cannot, be forgiven. As long as you are
so, that wUl be so, but it is nowhere said that you shall never be lifted out of that
state ; converted — awakened — aroused — saved — just as a man lying down with the
■now torpor upon him, which means coming death, may be kept walking about, or
lifted out of that torpor and saved ; but as long as he is in it he cannot be saved —
he must die. (if. JR. Raweis, M.A.) The unpardonable sin indescribable : —
Explanation of this mystery there is probably none. It best explains itself by
exciting a holy fear as to trespass. Another step— only one— and we may be over
the line. One word more, and we may have passed into the state unpardonable.
Do not ask what this sin is ; only know that every other sin leads straight up to it;
and at best there is but a step between life and death. From what the merciful
God does pardon, we can only infer that the sin which hath never forgiveness is
something too terrible for full expression in words. He pardons "abundantly."
He pardoned Nineveh ; He passed by the transgression of the remnant of His
heritage ; where sin abounded. He sent the mightiest billows of His grace ; when
the enemy would have stoned the redeemed, by reminding them of sins manifold,
and base with exceeding aggravation, behold their sins could not be found, for His
merciful hand had cast them into the sea. Yet there is one sin that hath never for>
giveness 1 As it is unpardonable, so it is indescribable. If it be too great for God's
mercy, what wonder that it should be too mysterious for our comprehension f My
soul, come not thou into that secret. (Joseph Parker, D.D.) Irreclaimable : —
Those who make the best things effects of the worst are irreclaimable. {J, H.
Godwin.) The unforgivable sin : — If you poison the spring, the very source,
you must die of drinking the water, bo long as the poison is there. And if you
deny and blaspheme the very essence from which forgiveness springs and flows,
forgiveness is killed (for you) by your own hand. There can be no remission, no
healing for that, since it is in fact — " Evil, be thou my good ; good, thou art evil ! "
How significant it is that it is the attributing goodness, righteousness of word,
life, action, " good works " in short, to an evil source, which is the unpardonable
sin — not the converse ; not the ascribing unworthy things to the source of good ;
not the having faulty conceptions of Him. If it were t^bat, who among us would
escape? {Vita.) Sin against consciousness greater than against sight: — Christ
taught that a word spoken against the Son of Man would be forgiven, but that a
word spoken against the Holy Ghost would not be forgiven : by which He probably
' meant that in His visible form there was so much that contravened the expecta-
tions of the people, that they might, under the mistaken guidance of their carnal
'feelings, speak against One who had claimed kingly position under a servant's
form ; but that in the course of events He would appear not to the eye but to the
consciousness of men ; and that when He came by this higher ministry, refusal of
His appeal would place man in an unpardonable state. The vital principle would
seem to be, that when man denies his own consciousness, or shuts himself up from
such influences as would purify and quicken his consciousness, he cuts himself off
from God, and becomes a •• son of perdition." Speaking against the Holy Ghost is
speaking against the higher and final revelation of the Son of Man. (J. Parker, D.D.)
God will vindicate His honour: — During the prevalence of infidelity in America after
the reign of terror in France, Newbury, New York, was remarkable for its abandon-
ment. Through the influence of •* Blind Palmer," there was formed a Druidical
Society, so called, which had a high priest, and met at stated times to uproot and
destroy aU true religion. They descended sometimes to acts the most infamous
and blasphemous. Thus, for instance, at one of their meetings they burned
the Bible, baptized a cat, partook of a mock sacrament, and one of the
number, with the approval of the rest, administered it to a dog. Now, mark the re-
tributive judgments of God, which at once commenced falling on these blasphemers.
In the evening he who had administered this mock sacrament was attacked with •
116 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap, in,
Tiolent inflammatory disease; his inflamed eyeballs were protruded from their
sockets, his tongue was swollen, and be died before the following morning in great
bodily and mental agony. Another of the party was found dead in his bed the
next morning. A third, who had been present, fell in a lit, and died immediately ;
and three others were drowned a few days afterwards. In short, within five year*
from the time the Druidical Society was organized, all the original members met
their death in some strange or unnatural manner. There were thirty-six of them in
all, and of these two were starved to death, seven drowned, eight shot, five com-
mitted suicide, seven died on the gallows, one was frozen to death, and three died
♦* accidentally." Of these statements there is good proof ; they have been certified
before justices of peace in New York. The unpardonable sin : — The doctrine of
the Trinity is the foundation of Christianity, both as a system of' dootrinei
and as a religion. We stand in special relation to the several persons of the
Trinity. All sin as against the Father or the Son may be forgiven, bat the sin
against the Holy Ghost can never be forgiven. I. Its general chabaotkb. 1. That
there is such a sin which is unpardonable. 2. It is an open sin, not a sin merely
of the heart. It is blasphemy. It requires to be uttered and carried out in act.
8. It is Erected against the Holy Ghost, specifically. It terminates on Him. It
consists in blaspheming Him, or doing despite unto Him. II. Its sPEOino
CHABACTEB. This includes— 1. Eegarding and pronouncing the Holy Ghost to be
evil ; ascribing the effect which He produces to Satan or to an evil, impure spirit.
2. The rejection of His testimony as false. He testifies that Jesus is the Son ol
God. The man guilty of this sin declares Him to be a man only. He testifies
that Jesus is holy. The other declares He is a malefactor. He testifies that His
blood cleanses from all sin. The other, that it is an unclean thing, and
tramples it under foot. 3. The conscious, deliberate, mahcious resistance
of the Holy Spirit, and the determined opposition of the soul to Him and
His gospel, and a turning away from both with abhorence. His sin supposes —
1. Knowledge of the gospel. 2. Conviction of its truth. 8. Experience of its
power. It is the rejection of the whole testimony of the Spirit, and rejection ol
Him and His work, with malicious and outspoken blasphemy. It is by a com-
parison of Matt. xii. 81, and the parallel passages in Mark and Luke, with Heb.
vi. 6-10, and x. 26-29 that the true idea of the impardonable sin is to be obtained.
III. The consequence of this sin is reprobation, or a reprobate mind. IV. Im-
POBTANCB OF CLEAB VIEWS OF THIS SUBJECT. 1. Bccause crroneous views prevail, a^
(1] That every deliberate sin is unpardonable, as the apostle says " He who sins
wilfully." (2) Any pecuHarly atrocious sin, as denying Christ by the lapsed. (8)
Post-baptismal sins. 2. Because people of tender conscience often are unnecessarily
tormented with the fear that they have committed this sin. It is hard to deal with
such persons, for they are generally in a morbid state. 8. Because as there is snob a
sin, every approach to it should be avoided and dreaded. 4. Because we owe specific
reverence to the Holy Ghost on whom our spiritual life depends. (C7. Hodge, D.D.)
The unpardonable sin: — L Now, what is foboiveness? It is the remifilon of the
consequences of a violation of law, and of pains and penalties of every kind which
arise from having broken a law. It may be considered as, first, organic. In other
words, far away from human society the Divine will expresses itself in natural law.
Thus a man, by intemperance, by gluttony, by excess of activity, by violation of
physical law, may disarrange his whole structure. His head may suffer, his chest
may suffer, any part of his body may suffer. Violence may fracture a limb, or
some sprain may distort a tendon or a muscle ; and everywhere man, as a physical
organization, is in contact with God's organic law in the physical world in which
we live. II. The principle of forgiveness buns thbough cbeation. That is to say,
all violations of law are not fataJ. They may inflict more or less pain; they
may bring upon a man suffering to a certain extent ; but so soon as a man finds
that the derangement of his stomach has arisen from eating improper food,
aLaough the knowledge and the reformation do not take away the dyspepsia, yet,
if he thoroughly turns away from the course he has been pursuing, and pursues
wholesome methods, in time he will recover. Nature has forgiven him. Through-
out the physical world you may cure fevers, dropsies, fractures, derangements of
Tital organs ; yon may violate all the multiplied economies that go to constitute the
individual physical man, and rebound will bring forgiveness ; but there is a point
beyond which if you go it will not, either in youth, in middle life, or in old age.
Many a young man who spends himself until he has drained the fountain of vitality
dry in youth is an old man at thirty years of age ; he creeps and crawls at forty
UHAP. ixi.J ST. MARK. Ill
and at fifty, if he is alive, he is a wretch. Nature says, *' I forgive all manner of
iniquity and transgression and sin to a man who does not commit the unpardonable
sin." III. Fob there is an unpardonable sin, phtsicallt speaking, that is possibli
TO EVERY MAN. If a thousand-pound weight fall upon a man so that it grinds the
bones of his leg to powder, like flour, I should like to see any surgeon that conld
restore it to him. He may give him a substitute in the form of wood or cork, but
be cannot give him his leg again. There is an unpardonable sin that may be com-
mitted in connection with the lungs, with the heart, or with the head. They are
strung with nerves as thick as beads on a string ; and up to a certain point of excess
or abuse of the nervous system if you rebound there will be remission, and you
will be put back, or nearly back, where you were before you transgressed nature's
laws ; but beyond that point — it differs in di:fferent men, and in different parts of
the same man — if you go on transgressing, and persist in transgression, yon will
never get over the effect of it as long as you live. {H. W. Beecher.) The unpar-
donable sin: — I, What are the signs? This I speak by way of relief to many and
many a needlessly tried soul. The inevitable sign of the commission of the un>
pardonable sin is a condition in which men are past feeling ; and if a man haa
come into that condition in which he is unpardonable — incurable — the sign will be
that he does not care. li you find a person who is alarmed lest he is in that con-
dition, his very alarm is a sign that he is not in it. I know not what was the par-
ticular case that led to the request that I should preach on the subject ; but if there
be those that are suffering because they fear that they have committed the unpar-
donable sin, in the first place, it is not a single act, it is a condition that
men come into by education ; and, in the second place, that condition is one
in which there is a cessation of sensibility. It is a want of spiritual pulse.
It is a want of the capacity of spiritual suffering. Therefore, if you do not
suffer at all, it may be, it is quite likely, that you are in that condition. Those
who are in that condition are never troubled about their spiritual state. But
where persons are anxious on the subject of their spiritual state, and are in distress
about it, and talk much respecting it, they are the very ones that cannot be in the
unpardonable condition. What would you think of a man who should anxiously
go around asking every physician if he did not think he was blind, when the reason
of his anxiety was that he had such acuteness of vision that he saw everything so
very plainly and continuously ? Acuteness of vision is not a sign of blindness.
What would you think of a man that should go to his physician to ascertain if he
was not growing deaf, because his hearing was so good ? The symptoms of deaf-
ness do not go that way. And how incompatible with the condition in which one
has committed the unpardonable sin is fear lest one has committed it. That con-
dition is one in which a person is past all feeling, and is given over to his wicked-
ness. U. This subject will lead us to make an important discrimination — one
which we may all of us need — whether we are in a sinful state or are beginning to
lead a Christian life. There is a tendency to fear great sins, and a tendency to be
indifferent to little ones. Now, there are certain great sins that, being committed.
may give such a moral shock to a man's constitution as to be fatal in their effects ;
but these are not usually fallen into. Men are not very much in danger of great
sins. They are ten thousand times more in danger of little ones. Men are not in
danger of committing perjury as much as they are of telling " white lies," as they
are called. Men are not so much in danger of counterfeiting as they are of putting
on little minute false appearances. Men are not so much in danger of committing
burglary as they are of committing the myriad infinitesimal injustices with which
life is filled. Any particular act, to be sure, such as I have alluded to, which of
itself is simply as a particle of dust, is not so culpable as a great sin ; but what is
the effect on the constitution of a series of these offences that are so small as to
be almost imperceptible ? It is these little sins, continued and multiplied, that by
friction take off the enamel of a man's conscience. It is these numberless petty
wrongs that men do not fear, persisted in, that are the most damaging. I should
dread the incursion into my garden, in the night time, of rooting swine, or tramp ■
ling ox, or browsing buffalo ; but, after all, aphides are worse than these big brutes.
I could kill any one, or half a dozen, or a score of them, if they came in such
limited numbers ; but when they swarm by the bilUon I cannot kill one in ten thou-
•and of them— and what can I dot Myriads of these insignificant little insects
will eat faster than I can work, and they are the pest and danger of the garden, aa
often my poor asters and roses testify. There is many and many a flower that I
would work bard to save, but the fecundity of insect life will quite match and over
118 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. m.
match, any maii*s industry. Weakness multiplied is stronger than strength. Now,
that which does the mischief is these aphides, these myriad infinitesimal worms,
these pestiferous httle sins, every one of which is called white, and is a mere
nothing, a small point — a mote, a speck of dust. Why, many a caravan has been
overtaken, smothered and destroyed by clouds of dust, the separate particles of
which were so minute as to be almost invisible. Many men are afraid that they
will be left to some great sin — and they ought to fear tiiat ; but they have not the
slightest fear of that which is a great deal more likely to bring them to condemna-
tion— the series of petty violations of conscience, and truth, and duty, with which
human experience is filled. Here is where every man should most seriously ponder
his condition, and ask himself, •' What is the effect of the conduct that I am day
by day evolving ? Am I educating myself toward moral sensibility, or away from
moral sensibility ? " III. This leads me to say xhat evert man shoum> take heed
lo THE WAY m WHICH HE TREATS HIS CONSCIENCE. 'If'the TigHtm Hm be (larkness,
hdw^^eaTirthat^aarkhessV When we put a lighthouse on the coast, that in the
night mariners may explore the dark and terrible way of the sea, we not only swing
glass around it to protect it, but we enclose that glass itself in a network of iron
wire, that birds may not dash it in, the summer winds may not swoop it out, and
that swarms of insects may not destroy themselves and the light. For if the light
in the lighthouse be put out, how great a darkness falls upon the land and upon the
tea. And the mariner, waiting for the light, or seeing it not, miscalculates, and
perishes. Now, a man's conscience ought to be protected from those influences
that would diminish its light, or that would put it out ; but there are thousands of
men who are every day doing their utmost to destroy this light. When they do
wrong, their conscience rebukes them, and they instantly attempt to suppress it and
put it down. They undertake to excuse themselves and palliate the wrong. The
next day, when they do wrong, the same process goes on, and they make a delibe-
rate war against their conscience ; for it is a very painful thing for a man to do
wrong and carry the hurt, and he feels that he must overcome this tormentor if he
would have any peace. A great many men not only are making war against the
light of God in the soul, but are beginning to feel the greatest complacency in tbeir
achievements. They come to a state in which they can lie and not feel bad. They
come to a state in which they can do a great deal of injustice, and not have it strike
them any mere as injustice. Men that have got along so far in this moral
perversion that their conscience has ceased to trouble them, and they think of
wrong-doing merely as a thing that is in the way of business, are sometimes sor-
prised as their mind strikes back to the time when they were more sensitive to
right, and they say, •* I recollect that, ten or fifteen years ago, when I first began to
do such things, I used to be so troubled about them that I lay awake nights ; but
it is a long time since they have given me any trouble." They muse, and say,
" How queer it is. I used to shrink from things that were not just right, and to be
afraid to deviate in the least from the strictest rectitude ; but I have got over it.
Now I do not feel so. How is it? I wonder what has happened to me." Oh,
yes ; you wonder what has happened to you. There has been death in your house.
The cradle is empty. Souls die. The moral element of your soul is dead. Why,
many and many a man, who used to be sensitive to purity, whose cheek used to
colour at the allusion to impurity, has got so now that the whole literature of im-
purity is familiar to him. Impure scenes, impure narratives, the whole morbid
intercourse of impure minds, they now never feel any skrinking from. Their moral
nature is seared as with a hot iron. There are men that come not only to be wicked,
but to be struck through and through with wickedness, so that they love men that are
wicked, and hate men that are not. They come to have a great contempt for anything
that is not wickedness, and to have a great regard, if not respect, for wickedness
itseli And this they come to not at a plunge. Me^, cey^fia,.(ipAYp^Buch a inoral
precipice headlong..^ They go down by degrees. TEe decline from a state of moral
BeftSitivenesB is very gradual — so gradual that it does not seem to men to be on the
downward way. Flowers are round about their feet, the path is shaded and plea-
sant, and they go far down before they begin to have any sense of an approaching
change. The way from right to wrong is a deceptive way, and a fatal way, and on
it men go far along toward destruction before their suspicions are awakened.
{Ibid.) Warning and encouragement: — 1. There is here a very full proclafiiation
of the grace of the gospel — the efficacy of His blood. 2. A particular sin is
nevertheless singled out, and placed beyond the reach of forgiveness. Warned
ftgainst it rather than charged with it. It seems to belong to the gospel dispensa*
CHAP, m.] ST. MARK, 119
tion. 3. Its characteristics are — It is committed against the Spirit personally,
Hgainst the clearest demonstration, from malice, without relenting or repentance.
Repentance, being a grace of the Spirit, would show that it had not been committed.
iJ. Stewart.) Despair vanquished by prayer : — I have read of one in despair whom
Satan persuaded it was in vain to pray or serve God, for he must certainly go to
hell ; he nevertheless still went to prayer, and begged of God that if he must go to
hell when he died, yet He would please give him leave to serve Him whilst he Hved.
Having thus prayed, his terrors vanished, being clearly convinced that none eonld
pray that prayer who had sinned against the Holy Ghost. (Sheffield,)
Vers. 31-36. There came then His brethren and His mother. — Spiritual kinship
with Christ : — See the honour and dignity of good Christians that believe in Christ.
There is a most near union between Christ and them, even as near as between
natural parents and children, or between those that are of nearest kindred by
natural birth : therefore He accounts them as His spiritual kindred, as dear and
near to Him as His mother and brethren. And what an honour is this, to be of
the spiritual kindred of Christ Himself, to be called and accounted His brother or
His sister. If it be an honour to be of the blood-royal, or of the kindred of some
noble personage, how much more honourable to be the brother or sister of Christ
Jesus 1 Let all believers think of this dignity vouchsafed to them ; and let it com-
fort them (as well it may) against all the contempt they meet with in the world.
The grace of faith engrafts the believer into the stock of Christ, and brings him
within His pedigree, making him to be of most near kindred with Him in a spiritual
manner : it makes Christ and the believer as near to each other as natural parents
and children ; yea, as husband and wife, for it marries them together, whence it is
that Christ is said to be the Husband of the true Church. Let this move us to
labour for true faith in Christ. If we had been born and lived about the time
when He was upon earth, would we not have been glad to be in the number of His
natural brethren and sisters ? How much more desirous should we be to be His
brethren and sisters by faith? Never rest till thou know thyself a believer in
Christ, and one of His kindred spiritually engrafted into Him ; without this thou
art miserable, though thou hast kinship by natural blood with all the princes and
great men in the world. {G. Fetter.) The result of relationship with Jesus : —
The tenderest human ties were used by the Son of God as an illustration of our
Divine relationship. To be Christ's disciple is to belong to His family. Home,
with its deep-rooted sympathies and precious endearments, is to picture our union
with the Lord. Religion is as personal in its affections as in its duties. Holiness
may seem to the undeveloped saint an almost fearful thing, hard to imagine, im-
possible to realize. But to live with Jesus and love Him is very real and very
glorious. The believer finds a hand to clasp, a face to gaze upon, an ear for
whispered confidences. How strange and beautiful the words must have sounded.
It is as if a prince had taken by the hand a rude and ignorant slave, and drawn him
into the dignity and affection of the royal household. (C. M. Southgate.) Doing
the will of God: — One of the household words of the kingdom of God. It empha-
tically teaches that there are but two divisions of mankind — those who do the will
of God, and those who disobey that will ; and that not even the closest blood rela-
tionships (much less the possession of national, or church, or religious privilege^
can in the slightest degree affect the distinctness and permanence of the line between
these divisions. Of all relationships, spiritual ones are the closest ; and there is
but one permanent relationship to God, which is conformity to His will. (M. F.
Sadler.) Spiritual relationship: — A poor, but pious, woman called upon two
wealthy and refined young ladies, who, regardless of her poverty, received her with
Christian affection, and sat down in the drawing-room to converse with her upon
religious subjects. While thus employed, a dashing youth by chance entered, a»'d
appeared astonished to see his sisters thus engaged. One of them instantly started
up and exclaimed, ♦' Brother, don't be surprised ; this is a king's daughter, though
she has not yet got her fine clothing." Divine "'elatiomhips : — Let us look at
this subject in one or two of its important bearings Tipon some of the relative positions
of life. I. As REGARDS OUR TIES OF NATURAL RELATIONSHIP ONE TO ANOTHER. There
is a bond stronger even than the strongest bond of nature. We may not say that
Christ, as Divine, had an independence of natural affections. Yet these consider-
ations are not to diminish the duty and affection which are to fasten relations to-
f:ether ; no book invests our home relationship with such sweetness and power as
^e Bible. Tet there is a bond stronger. It is of the very last importance that th«
120 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap, in,
ties which fafiten us together in blood and kindred should be exceedingly and para-
mountly strong. What parent does not feel it with his child ? What husband
does not feel it to hiH wife ? Or what brother and sister do not feel it one to another f
See, then, the immense necessity that the spiritual and the natural attachment run
in one. Otherwise, there will be a want of sympathy. Otherwise, look at your
position, worldly parents, if you have a pious child ; or you, worldly children, il
you have pious parents ; or worldly brothers and sisters, if you have pious ones,
with all you love, there is an influence at work in this world— and it may spring up
any moment in your family — which may clash with the natural affections and the
human obligations. And remember (it is almost awful to say it), remember, it has
in it the elements of an infinite separation for ever and ever. Do I say, that if your
child is rehgious he will love you less ? God forbid. But this I say, that if a
worldly parent has a religious child, that child may be, and indeed sometimes mus*
be, placed in the most difficult and perplexing of all possible relationships — a rela-
tionship of which the result may be most disastrous to peace. On the other hand,
what and if the tide of grace rolls into the current of nature 7 What and if the
omnipotence of a heavenly love wrap round and bind the human attachment ? What
and if relations are one in the unity of the mystical body of Christ ? What and if
we have our natural fathers spiritual fathers, and our natural children spiritual
children, and our natural brothers and sisters brothers and sisters in Christ ? How
exceedingly, how eternally happy the bond 1 Now then, brethren, if it be so, what
an argument there is here I Never voluntarily form any connection which is not
" in the Lord I " And what an argument is here for continual, earnest prayer, and
efforts for the conversion and salvation of those who are nearest and dearest to us.
For then are they fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, children indeed when the one
Christ in all hearts makes one body and one soul ; and the ray from heaven meet-
ing the ray from earth, they blend together, till they glow into a perfect flame of
light and love. But there is another relative duty which necessarily grows out of
these words. II: And now, God is gathering such a family around Him, and all
the feelings and affections which He has planted in these hearts of ours, even the
fondest, abb only the dim types and shadows of that higher life, when
before admiring hosts He shall say, •* Behold My mother and My brethren."
But who are they who are so very dear to Christ? Now mark everywhere Christ's
jealousy for the Father's glory, "Whosoever shall do the will of My Father."
That is the road to the heart of Christ — do God's will. The determining question
is, What is the will of God? Am I doing it? {J. Vaughan, M.A.) The dif-
ferent phases of the love of Christ : — And so it is, my brethren. The love of
Christ is represented to us in the text as comprising within itself all those affee-
tions which endetir our homes to us, and which, being all derived from His fulness,
are parted in a fragmentary state among the various relationships of human life.
Consider the manifoldness of aspect under which this love is represented to us.
Christ Himself is represented to us under manifold aspects — each aspect suitable
and satisfying to some want of the human mind. There are four portraitures of
Christ— four gospels; and why? Because the subject to be apprehended is in-
finitely grand, and the mind's capabihties of apprehension limited. It is with the
mind as with the eye. If an object be real and substantial, the eye does not take
it in, in its integrity, by viewing it on one side only. Thus it is with a house or
other building. You survey it from a point at which only one side is turned towards
you. It presents certain features, a certain arrangement of buttress and arch, door*
way and window. This, however, is but a superficial acquaintance with it. Go
round, and view another side. You discover there fresh designs of architectural
beauty, or fresh adaptations to the convenience of the inmates. And now a third side.
It is in shade and frowns — leaving altogether an impression on the mind, totally
different from that upon whose white marble the sunlight was sparkling. When
you have seen the fourth side, you have seen all : your impression is complete--it
IS made up of various elements, but all combine to form one whole. Now the mind
resembles the eye. It can only become acquainted with objects — especially with
large and comprehensive objects — piecemeal. It cannot gain the whole truth from
one survey, without planting itself at different standing-points. Even so it will
help us to realize the love of Christ, if we consider one by one its various elements,
those bright lines which enter into its composition. I. What is the distinguish-
ing trait of a brotheb's love. The idea is not congeniality of tastes in every
respect, but active support in all the struggles and difi&culties of life. This, then, is
the first phase of the love which is in Christ— the love of active support II. '* The
CHAP. lU.] ST. MARK. 121
flame is My sister.** A love remarkable for its tenderness and delicacy — different
from that entertained towards a brother. This, then, is the second phase of the love
which is in Christ — the being sensitive to the feelings of the person loved. III.
" The same is My mother.'* The love entertained for a sister and mother have the
one element in common. But superadded is a feeling of reverence, honour, and
gratitude (1 Kings ii. 19). " Them that honour me I will honour " (1 Sam. ii. 30).
That God and Christ will honour sinful man confers great dignity. Such, then, are
the several ingredients of the love of Christ towards all those who come under the
terms here specified. Nay, all love and affection, existing among men, in whatever
quarter and under whatever circumstances, may be said to be comprised in His love,
— to be a mere emanation from the fulness of love which is in Him. Again I recur
to my image of the light. Light is one thing, though comprising in itself several
hues. All the fair hues of nature inhere in the light — so that where there is no
light, there is no colour. Wherever the light travels, it disparts its colours to
natural objects — to one after this manner, to another after that — the emerald green
to the leaves — to the flowers violet, and yellow, and crimson. And in the same
manner all love is in Christ, and is from Him, as its Fountain-head and Centre,
disparted among the various relations of human life. A ray from His light struggles
forth in the care of the father, in the tenderness of the mother, in the active support
of the brother or friend, in the sister's refined sympathy — nay, in the affectionate
homage of the son. And this whole love, in all its manifold elements, is brought
to converge, with unshorn beams, upon that thrice happy man or boy, who does the
will of God. {E. F, Goulburn, D.C.L.) The kinsmen of Christ:— I, Christ
DETERMINES THE CLAIMS OF EARTHLY RELATIONSHIP, WHEN COMPARED WITH THE CLAIMS
OF God and dutt. 1. His mother and brethren presumed on their relationship.
2. The multitude concurred. 3. Christ practically declared the superior claims of
duty — or of God, to those of earthly relations. Eelations and duty often clash.
But for this decision, how much difficulty, &c. How much support has it given.
II. The weakness or the ties of nature, when compared with those ties to
WHICH the oosfel GIVES EXISTENCE. 1. Christ asked who His mother and brethren
were, t.e., who stood to Him in nearest relation? 2. He answered the question —
His disciples. The one temporary, the other eternal. 3. Their comparative strength
has been tried. 4. How beautiful when united 1 III. The honourable position
OF BELIEVERS — the Musmen of Christ. 1. He has entered the human family. 2.
He has introduced them into the Divine family. 3. As a kinsman He redeemed
the inheritance which was lost. 4. He is not ashamed, in heaven, to call them
brethren. 6. They take rank from Him, not He from them. IV. The charaoteb
OF Christ's kinsmen. 1. It is in respect of the moral nature that man is bom
again. 2. The Divine nature, which through regeneration is imparted, is holiness.
8. Hence the family likeness, i.<., holiness. {Expository Discourses.) Relation-
ship to Christ : — I. Its importance. It is an everlasting relationship. 1. It delivers
us from what is earthly and vain. It is only by the formation of a higher kins-
manship that we can be severed from the drag of the carnal. 2. It connects with
salvation and eternal life. It is the grafting into the living stem of the vine. 3.
It connects ns with honour and glory. All that our kinsman has becomes ours.
II. Its formation (John i. 12). This is the first point at which we commence
doing the will of God. III. Its Manifestation. A life of service, of doing the
Father's will. 1. Are our hearts doing the Father's will? 2. Are our intfllects
doing the Father's will ? 3. Are our purposes doing the Father's will ? 4. Is our
life doing the Father's will ? 6. Is our family doing the Father's will t 6. Is our
business life doing the Father's will? Thus let us test our relationship to Christ.
{H. Bonar^ D.D.) The test of relationship : — If you go out into the woods in
the summer, you may see, high up on some tree, a branch with dry twigs and
withered leaves. It seems to be a part of the tree. Yet when you look closer, you
find it has been broken away, and now it is only a piece of dead wood encumbering
ft living tree. The test of relationship with the tree is life — fruit-bearing. That
is also the test of relationship with Christ. The power which binds the iron to the
magnet is unseen, but real ; the iron so bound becomes itself a magnet : the power
that binds believers to Christ and makes them members of Him, is as real, though
ftlso unseen.
122 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap, n
CHAPTER IV.
Vers. 1, 2. And He began again to teach by the seasldt. — ChrUt teaching ;—
1. The PLACE where Christ taught. 1. By the Beaside. Opposed to a prevailing
notion. This example at present imitated. 2. In a ship. The spread of the
gospel prefigured. II. Those who formed His audience. 1. The general crowd.
2. The apostles and disciples. III. The manner in which Christ taught. 1, He
taught the multitudes in parables. Remarkable for simplicity when understood.
Very apt and likely to be misunderstood. 2. He explained His parables to His
disciples, but this was accompanied by reproof. IV. The beason wht Hi taught
THE MULTITUDE IN PABABLE8. 1. As a fulfilment of prophecy (Psa. Ixxviii. 2 ;
Matt. xiii. 34, 36). 2. In consequence of the moral state of the Jewish nation
(Isa. vi. 9, 10 ; Matt xiii. 14, 16, and elsewhere). 3. Originally, and as quoted,
describes a particular moral state, in which — The Word is not understood, not felt,
does not convert, is not heard. This state is ascribed to themselves, to the prophet,
to God (Matt. xiii. 14, 16 ; Isa. vi. 9, 10 ; John xii. 40). Learn : That the ungodly
see and near without understanding ; that in order that a people be left in darkness,
it is not necessary that the gospel be removed ; thut when a faithful ministry is
sent to a people, it is not always for their conversion ; that the means of converting
are also the means of hardening. V. The reason why Christ taught His
DISCIPLES MORE DIRECTLY. 1. A knowledge of the mysteries of the kingdom
was a gift to them. 2. Instruction was the mode of conveying it. {Expository
I>isc(mr8e$.) By parables. — The use and abuse of allegorical instruction : — Lay
down some rules to assist in the interpretation of parables. 1. The first and
principal one I shall mention is, the carefully attending to the occasion of them.
No one, for instance, can be at a loss to explain the parable of the prodigal son,
who considers that our Lord had been discoursing with publicans and sinners, and
that the proud and self-righteous Pharisees had taken offence at His conduct.
With this key we are let into the true secret of this beautiful parable, and cannot
mistake in our comment upon it. Understanding thus from the occasion of the
parable what is the grand truth or duty meant to be inculcated, 2. Our attention
should be steadily fixed to that object. If we suffer ourselves to be diverted from it
by dweUing too minutely upon the circumstances of the parable, the end proposed
by BUm who spake it will be defeated, and the whole involved in obscurity. For it
is much the same here as in considering a fine painting ; a comprehensive view ol
the whole will have a happy and striking effect, but that effect will not be felt if the
eye is held to detached parts of the picture without regarding the relation they bear
to the rest. Were a man to spend a whole hour on the circumstances of the ring
and the robe in the parable just referred to, or on the two mites in that of the good
Samaritan, it is highly probable both he and his hearers by the time they got to the
close of the discourse, would lose all idea of our Saviour's more immediate intent in
both those instructive parables. 3. That great caution should be observed in our
reasoning from ttie parables to the peculiar doctrines of Christianity. (1) An
intemperate use of figures tends to sensualize the mind and deprave the taste.
Sensible objects engross the attention of mankind, and have an undue influence on
their appetites and passions. They walk by sight, not by faith. (2) The misappli-
cation of figures, whereby false ideas are given the hearer of the things they are
made to stand for. It ife easy to conceive how men's notions of the other world,
invisible spirits, and the blessed God Himself, may in this way be perverted. A
licentious imagination has given rise to tenets the most absurd and impious. To
this the idolatry of the pagan world may be traced up as its proper source (Rom. i.
21-28). (3) The reasoning injudiciously from types and figures, begets a kind oi
faith that is precarious and ineffectual. We have clear and positive proofs of the
facts the gospel relates, and the important doctrines that are founded thereon.
But if, instead of examining these proofs to the bottom, and reasoning with men
upon them, we content ourselves with mere analogical evidence, and rest the issue
of the question in debate upon fanciful and imaginary grounds, our faith will be
continually wavering, and produce no substantial and abiding fruits. An enthusiast,
struck with appearances, instantly yields his assent to a proposition, without con-
sidering at all the evidence. But as soon as his passions cool, and the false glare
npon his imagination subsides, his faith dies away, and the fruit expected from it
proves utterly abortive. (S. StennetU D.D.)
. !▼.] ST. MARK. 12S
Ver. 3. Hearken; 1>ebold, tbere went ont a Bower to sow. — Parable of th4
fower : — This parable is both a solemn lesson and warning, and also a description
of what is actually taking place in the world. There are calls to lead a holy life
perpetually going on ; there are either sudden rejections or gradual forgettings of
those calls. Such calls may differ in degree, and strength, and strikingness
of the impression, but they are all calls ; a truth is distinctly embraced bv the
mind of the person at the time : he sees that something is true which he
had not realized to be true before, and had only held in word. That perscc
can never afterwards say he did not know or was not made fully aware of
Christian truth ; or that it was always brought before him in such a way that he
could not recognize it. He has been made to see it, and to recognize it. The
point with which this parable deals is the various kinds of treatment accorded by
different people to these calls. Let us look at the several classes. I. The un-
scBUPULOus. By a bold, proud, sometimes even sudden and impulsive act of sin,
they oast out of their hearts something which incommodes and annoys them, and
threatens to interfere with their plan of enjoyment. These are they who have
made up their minds to get on in life, and they refuse to let anything interfere with
the realization of this desire. Judas. Ananias and Sapphira. I do not say that
a man may not recover spiritually after having inflicted such a blow upon himself,
but it is a dreadful act, which provokes the righteous justice of God, and that worst
of punishments, a hardened heart. II. The light-minded and cabeless. These
could receive the Word, because that merely implies the capacity of being acted
upon by solemn and powerful representations of the truth ; which they might be,
just as they might be impressed by some striking scene or incident. But, being
without energy of their own to take hold of the Word and extract its powers, they
soon fall away. To begin a thing, and to go on with it, are two totally different
affairs. The commencement is in its own nature something fresh ; but to go on
with an undertaking is to do things over and over again, when all the freshness
has disappeared, and no incentive remains but the sense of duty. This is the true
test, and under it how many fail 1 Upon how many do we count for continuing
their profession under different circumstances f Is there not a regular expectation
formed in us, when we estimate the manifestations which men make, that they will
not last ; that they have their time, like the seasons or periods of weather, and that
they will end as naturally as they have begun? Can there be a greater contrast to the
abiding faithfulness of the gospel pattern f III. The worldlt. These are not light-
minded men altogether ; they are serious as regards this world, calculating, exer-
cising forecast, attentive, persevering ; but it is solely in relation to this world that
they maintain this gravity and seriousness. They do not give a place in their thoughts
to another world. What a common mistake with regard to religion this is I Our
Lord says, ** Ye cannot serve God and mammon ; " and yet it would almost appear
as if one-half of mankind had determined to prove Him a liar, and to show that
that is possible which He declared was not. Each one thinks that in his own par-
ticular case there will be a complete agreement in these two great aims and under-
takings, the earthly and the spiritual ; that others may have missed this union, but
that they will fix upon it. They enter upon their course in life with a swing.
Feeling no hesitation about themselves, they plunge into the thick of the struggle
for the world's possessions, they are carried away with the ardour of the pursuit,
and they do not imagine at all that they are injuring or suppressing the religious
principle in them. They think that can maintain itself, and therefore they never
think of looking after it, to see how it is faring. And so the stream carries them
along, being interested in the objects of the world, content with supposition and
doing nothing about religion ; until that which has thriven by practice has com-
pletely driven out the principle which has had no exercise, and the result is a
simple man of the world. IV. Opposed to all thebe is the treatment gfven to
THE Word by the honest and oood heart. Not sinning against light ; not abandon-
ing what it has undertaken ; not captivated by worldly pomp and show ; it is faith-
ful to God ; it knows the excellence of religion ; it is able to count the cost, and
make the sacrifice which is necessary for the great end in view. Have we this f
We cannot be certain of it until we have continued and persevered to the end.
Those who have begun well may boldly cast away the Spirit, or they may fall away
from grace because they have no root, or they may be swallowed up by the cares
and aims of worldly life. We kuow not what we are till we have been tried to
that extent which God thinks fit. But so far as we have striven, we may feel a
comfortable sense that we do possess that heart; and certainly, if we have not striven^
124 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. n.
we cannot give onrselves any such hope. Let as strive to enter in at the strait
gate, and to be found among the faithful. (J. B. Mozley, D.D.) The effect oj
Divine truth as conditioned by the state of men's hearts : — The title with which we
are familiar is almost a misnomer. It is not the sower who is most prominent, for
the seed of the Word is a more important factor ; nor yet is the seed, for it is the
foar kinds of soil into which it shall fall that determines the seed's future. If
preachers and teachers are drawing lessons from the parable, then it may be well
called the Parable of the Sower ; but if the hearers of the Word are getting their
lessons from it, they will find the greater part of the parable telling of the soil and
the false growths therein that may render the Word unfruitful. Jesus, standing by
the seashore, and surveying the motley company before Him, gives us a prophecy
of the future of His truth among men. It cannot win an easy triumph. The seed
is God's own, but it does not create its own soiL It drops on what is at hand, and
is to be scattered broadcast, to meet varied fortunes. {E, N. Packard.) The
soioer : — ^I. The function of the sower, not destructive but constructive ; not to root
up or remove, but to plant. H. The loneliness of the sower. A sower. The
reaper may work amidst a company, but the sower is always alone. Thousands
reap the fruit of what one man sows. III. The season when he goes forth to sow.
No foliage, no verdure, sky cloudy, and air cold. IV. Sowing is a sorrowful process.
He goes forth weeping. He must part with a certain amount of present good, in
order to obtain a larger amount of future good. V. The nature of the seed which
he sows. The word of truth must be the word of life. {Hugh Macmillan.) The
sower : — ^I. The bower. 1. Unity of purpose. His work was seed sowing, not soil
culture. 2. Variety of results. H. The seed. 1. Its origin. Every seed was
originated by Christ. But there is a sense in which every man originates his own
seed. This he does when he is true to his individuality. 2. Its vitality. 3. Its
growth. Man can sow, God alone can quicken. 4. Its identity. The seed is the
same in all ages and climes. III. The soil. 1. Hardness — •' Some seeds fell by
the wayside," &c. 2. Shallowness — " And some fell upon stony places," &o. 8.
Preoccupancy — " And some fell among thorns," &o. 4. Bichness — " Other fell
into good ground," &o. This soil contained aU the qualities essential to fruitfulness.
Moisture, depth, cleanness, and quality. {A. G. Churchill.) The leading ideas of
the parable explained : — These are — the sower, the seed, the ground, and the effect
of casting the seed into it. I. By the sower is meant our Saviour Himself, and
all those whose o£&oe it is to instruct men in the truth and duties of religion. The
business of the husbandman is, of all others, most important and necessary,
requires much skill and attention, is painful and laborious, and yet not without
pleasure and profit. A man of this profession ought to be well versed in agricul-
ture, to understand the difference of soils, the various methods of cultivating the
ground, the seed proper to be sown, the seasons for every kind of work, and in
short how to avail himself of aU circumstances that arise for the improvement of
his farm. He should be patient of fatigue, inured to disappointment, and unwearied
in his exertions. Every day will have its proper business. Now he will manure
his ground, then plough it ; now cast the seed into it, then harrow it ; incessantly
watch and weed it ; and after many anxious cares, and, if a man of piety, many
prayers to heaven, he will earnestly expect the approaching harvest. The time come,
with a joyful eye he will behold the ears fully ripe bending to the hands of the
reapers, put in the sickle, collect the sheaves, and bring home the precious grain
to his garner. Hence we may frame an idea of the character and duty of a
Christian minister. He ought to be well- skilled in Divine knowledge, to have a
competent acquaintance with the world and the human heart, <fco. Of these sowers
•ome have been more skilful, and successful, and laborious than others. Among
them the Apostle Paul holds a distinguished rank. But the most skilful and painf lU
of aU sowers was our Lord Jesus Christ. II. The Seed sown, which our Saviour
explains of " the Word of the Kingdom," or as St. Luke has it, " the Word of God."
The husbandman wiU be careful to sow his ground with good seed. He goeth forth
bearing precious seed. By " the Word of the Kingdom " is meant the gospel. Let
as apply it — 1. To personal religion. In the heart of every real Christian a kingdom
is established. Now the seed sown in the hearts of men is the Word of this kingdom,
or that Divine instruction which relates to the foundation, erection, principles,
maxims, laws, immunities, government, present happiness, and future glory of this
kingdom : all which we have contained in our Bibles. It is the doctrine of Christ.
Again, let us apply the idea of a kingdom, 3. To the Christian dispensation, or the
whole yisible church. In this sense it is nsed by John the Baptist, " Repent ye :
CHAP. IV.] ST. MARK. 125
for the kingdom of heaven," that is, the gospel dispensation, •• is at hand." All
who profess the doctrine, and submit to the institutions of Christ, compose one
body of which He is the head, one kingdom of which He is the sovereign—'* a king-
dom which," He himself tells us, •♦ is not of this world." Now the gospel is the
seed of this kingdom, as it gives us the laws by which it is to be regulated, of worship,
ordinances, discipline, protection, increase and final glory. Once more, the term
kingdom is to be understood also, 3. Of heaven, and all the happiness and glory to
be enjoyed there. The gospel is the Word of this kingdom, as it has assured us upon
the most certain grounds of its reality, and given us the amplest description of its
glories our present imperfect faculties are capable of receiving. III. To consider
THK GBOUND iuto which the seed is cast, by which our Saviour intends the soul of
man, that is, the understanding, judgment, memory, will, and affections. The
ground, I mean the earth on which we tread, is now in a different state from what
it was in the beginning, the curse of God having been denounced upon it. In like
manner, the soul of man, in consequence of the apostacy of our first parents, is
enervated, polluied, and depraved. It shall suffice at present to observe, that as
there is a variety in the soil of different countries, and as the ground in some places
is less favourable for cultivation than in others, so it is in regard of the soul. There
is a difference in the strength, vigour, and extent of men's natural faculties ; nor
can it be denied that the moral powers of the soul are corrupted in some, through
sinful indulgences, to a greater degree than in others. As to mental abilities, who
is not struck with the prodigious disparity observable among mankind in this
respect ? Here we see one of a clear understanding, a lively imagination, a sound
judgment, a retentive memory, and there another, remarkably deficient in each of
these excellences, if not wholly destitute of them all. These are gifts distributed
among mankind in various portions. But none possess them in that perfection
they were enjoyed by our first ancestors in their primeval state. The ground must
be first made good, and then it will be fruitful. IV. Consider the general pbocess
of this business, as it is either expressly described or plainly intimated in the parable.
The ground, first manured and made good, is laid open by the plough, the seed is
cast into it, the eartib is thrown over it, in the bosom of the earth it remains
awhile, at length, mingling with it, it gradually expands, shoots up through the
olods, rises into the stalk and then the ear, so ripens, and at the appointed time brings
forth fruit. Such is the wonderful process of vegetation. Nor can we advert thus
generally to these particulars, without taking into view at once the exertions of the
husbandman, the mutual operation of the seed and the earth on each other, and the
seasonable influence of the sun and the rain, under the direction and benediction
of Divine providence. So, in regard of the great business of religion, the hearts of
men are first disposed to listen to the instructions of God's Word ; these instructions
are then, like the seed, received into the understanding, will, and affections ; and
after a while, having had their due operation there, bring forth, in various degrees,
the acceptable fruits of love and obedience. And how natural, in this case, as in
the former, while we are considering the rise and progress of religion in the soul, to
advert, agreeable to the figure in the parable, to the happy concurrence of a Divine
influence, with the great truths of the gospel, dispensed by ministers, and with the
reasonings of the mind and heart about them. To shut out all idea here of such
influence would be as absurd as to exclude the influence of the atmosphere and
sun from any concern in culture and vegetation. Let the husbandman lay what
manure he will on barren ground, it can produce no change in the temperature ol
it, unless it thoroughly penetrates it, and kindly mingles with it ; and this it cannot
do without the assistance of the falling dew and rain, and the genial heat of the
sun. In like manner, all attempts, however proper in themselves, to change the
hearts of men, and to dispose them to a cordial reception of Divine truths, will be
▼ain without the concurrence of Almighty grace. Eeflectiona : 1. How honourable,
important, and laborious is the employment of ministers. 2. What a great blessing
is the Word of God. 3. What cause have we for deep humiliation before God, when
we reflect on the miserable depravity of human nature. 4. How great are our obliga-
tions to Divine grace for the renewing influences of the Holy Spirit. Let not the
regard which the sower pays to Divine providence, reproach out inattention and
insensibility to th^ more noble and salutary influences of Divine grace. (S. Stennett,
D.D.) The four hinds of soil: — The growth of the seed depends always on the qurtlity
of the soil. The stress of the story lies not on the churacter of the sower, or even
on the quality of the seed, but on the nature of the soil. The character of the
bearer determines the effect of the Word upon him. We should cultivate the habit
126 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [ch^. iy.
of profitable hearing. It is well that our students should be instructed how to
preach, but it is equally important that the people should be taught how to hear ;
for if it be true, as is sometimes cynically said, that good preaching is one of the
lost arts, it is to be feared that good hearing also has too largely disappeared ; and,
wherever the fault may have begun, the two act and re-act on each other. A good
hearer makes a lively preacher, just as really as a poor preacher makes a dull
hearer ; and eloquence is not all in the speaker. To use Mr. Gladstone's illustra-
tion, he gets from his hearers in vapour that which he returns to them in tiood^
and a receptive and responsive audience adds fervour and intensity to his utterance.
Eloquent hearing, therefore, is absolutely indispensable to effective preaching; and
so it is quite as necessary that listeners should be taught to hear, as it is that
preachers should be taught what and how to speak. 1. Taking, then, first,
the things to be guarded against, we find foremost among these the danger of
preventing the truth from getting any entrance into the soul at all. The seed
that fell upon the pathway lay on the outside of the soil. The ground had
been so hardened by the tread of many feet, that the grain could not get into it.
The Boul may be sermon-hardened as well as sin-hardened. But another thing
which makes a foot- walk over the soul is evil habit. 2. But a second danger to be
avoided is that of shallow impulsiveness. So the man of shallow nature makes a
great show at first. He is all enthusiasm. He " never heard sucli a sermon in aU
his life." He seems greatly moved, and for a time it looks as if he were really
converted ; but it does not last. It is but an ague-fever, which is succeeded by a
freezing chill ; and by and by some new excitement follows, to give place in its
turn to another alternation into cold neglect. He lacks depth of character, for he
has nothing but rock beneath the surface. He seems to have much feeling, indeed^
and his religion is all emotional ; but, in reality, he has no proper feeling. It is all
superficial. That which is only feeling, will not even be feeling long. Now, the
fault in all this lies in a lack of thoughtfulness, or a neglecting to '* count the cost."
The man of depth looks before he leaps. He will not commit himself until he has
carefully examined all that is involved ; but when he does thus commit himself, he
does so irrevocably. He who signs a document without reading it will be very likely
to repudiate it when any trouble comes of it ; but the man who knew what he was
doing when he appended his name to it, if he be a true man, will stand to his bond
at all hazards. Now, the merely impulsive, shallow, flippant hearer acts without
deliberation, signs his bond without reading it, and is therefore easily discouraged.
When he is called to suffer anything unpleasant for his confession, he breaks down.
He had not calculated on such a contingency. He enlisted only for the review, and
not for the battle ; and so, on the first alarm of war, he disappears from the ranks.
He did not stop, to consider all that his enlistment involved ; he was allured only
by the uniform, and the gay accessories of military Ufe : but, when it came to
fighting, he deserted. The enthusiastic convert is often preferred to the calm and
apparently unimpassioned disciple. The growth in the one seems so much more
rapid than in the other, that he is put far above him. But when affliction cr
persecution arises, what a revelation it makes 1 for then the enthusiasm of the one
goes out, and that of the other comes out. 3. But we must look to the kind of
thing to be guarded against, which we may call the pre-occupation of the heart by
other objects than the word heard by the man. II. The quamtibs to be cdltivate&
BY GOSPEL hearers, AS THESE ABE INDICATED IN THE SaVIOUB'S EXPLANATION OF THE
SEED WHICH FELL INTO GOOD SOIL. 1. Attention : they hear. 2. Meditation : they
keep. 3. Obedience: they bring forth fruit with patience. {W. M. Taylor^ D.D.j
Eastern cornfields: — Our grain-fields are level, and covered with the crop from
hedge to hedge. But theirs were broken patches, not unlike the little croft yon
may see before a Highland cottage. It is not fenced ; the footpath to the moor,
the well, or the village runs through it ; the soil is wavy, and dotted with rocky
hillocks ; bushes of thorn and thistle are in the corner. As the crofter sows his
little plot, some seeds fall on the footpath and its hardened margins, some on the
rocky knolls, and some among the thorns, as well as on the best soil. Such uneven
seed-fields stretched then along the Lake of Galilee, sloping suddenly up from the
shore. The soil was deep at the water's edge, but grew shallower near the foot of
the little hills. Very likely Christ's hearers were then standing upon or within
sight of such a field. {J. Wells.) Life in the seed : — Dry and dead as it seems,
let a s«»ed be planted with a stone-flashing diamond, or burning ruby ; and while
that in the richest soil remains a stone, this awakes and, bursting its husky shell,
rises from the ground to adorn the earth with beauty, perfume the air with frag
CHAP, iv.j ST. MAHA. 127
ranee, or enrich men with its frnit. Such life there is in all, bat especially in
gOBpel, truth. (T. Guthrie, D.D.) Force in the seed : — ^Buried in the ground a
seed does not remain inert — Ue there in a living tomb. It forces its way upward,
and with a power quite remarkable in a soft, green, feeble blade, pushes aside the
dull clods that cover it. Wafted by winds or dropped by passing bird into the
fissure of a crag, from weak beginnings the acorn grows into an oak — growing till,
by the forth-putting of a silent but continuous force, it heaves the stony table from
its bed, rending the rock in pieces. But what so worthy to be called tbe power aa
well as the wisdom of God as that Word which, lodged in the mind, and accom-
panied by the Divine blessing, fed by showers from heaven, rends hearts, harder
than the rocks, in pieces ? (Ibid.) Propagation in the seed : — A single grain of
com would, were the produce of each season sown again, so spread from field to
field, from country to country, from continent to continent, as in the course of a
few years to cover the whole surface of the earth with one wide harvest, employing
all the sickles, filling all the barns, and feeding all the mouths in the world. (Ibid.)
Varied soils : — The wayside hearers do not take in the seed at all ; the rocky-
ground hearers take in the seed, but do not let it sink deep enough ; the thorny-
ground hearers take it in, but take in bad seeds also ; the good-ground hearers take
the seed into their deepest heart, and take in nothing else. In these four sorts of
soil you see the beginning and end of spring, summer, and autumn. In the first,
the seed does not spring ; in the second, it springs, but does not grow up ; in the
third, it grows up, but does not ripen ; in the fourth, it ripens perfectly. [J. Wells.)
The duty of the sower: — ^A pastor or preacher is a workman hired and sent out to
sow the field of God ; that is, to instruct souls in the truths of the gospel. This
workman sins — 1. When, instead of going to the field, he absents himself from it ;
nothing being more agreeable to nature and Divine law than for a servant to obey
his master, for a seedsman to be in the field for which he is hired, and whither he
is sent to sow. 2. When he stays in the field, but does not sow. 3. When he
changes his master's seed, and sows bad instead of good. 4. When he affects to
cast it on the highway, i.e., loves to preach only before people of fashion and
influence. 6. When he fixes on stony ground, from whence there is little hope of
receiving any fruit. If interest, inclination, the spirit of amusement, or self-
satisfaction determine a pastor to attend chiefly on such souls who seek not God,
and whose virtue has no depth, he has but little regard to his Master's profit. He
must not, indeed, neglect any, but he ought not to base his preference on worldly
motives. 6. When he is not careful to pick out the stones, and to pluck up the
thorns. The sower complains of the barrenness of the field ; and perhaps the field
will complain, at the tribunal of God, of the negligence of the sower, in not pre-
paring and cultivating it as he ought. 7. When he does not endeavour to make
the seed in the good ground yield fruit in proportion to its goodness. (Quesnel.) Ir
framing this parable, our Lord classified the hearers of the Word according to His
own experience as a preacher, basing His classification not so much upon generalities
as upon well-remembered illustrations. It would not be difficult to exempUfy this,
by specimens drawn from tbe records of His dealings with men (Bruce, e.g. has
found examples of each kind of hearer in St. Luke xii. 11, 13, ix. 57, 61, 62, and in
the case of Barnabas). It will suffice at present, however, to give point to His
descriptions, by recalling the divers effects produced by His claims to the Messiah-
ship. 1. There were men hardened by Jewish prejudice, and seared with worldliness,
who looked only for material advancement by the establishment of a new kingdom,
and yet fiocked to hear His words, meek and lowly as He was. They might
possibly have been impressed, had not the Pharisaic enemies of the Cross, the
emissaries of Satan, stepped in with their specious arguments, and caught away
the seed before ever it found any lodgment in their hearts. 2. There were others
of an emotional temperament, who were carried away in the excitement aroused by
His sudden popularity, who, when they witnessed the wonderful works that He did,
would have taken Him by force and made Him a king ; and yet, staggered by the
first check their enthusiasm received, within twenty-four hours " went away back-
ward, and walked no more with Him." 3. There was another class, more limited,
no doubt, who saw in Him the beauty they de?ired, and recognized His goodness ;
men, too, whom He loved in return for all that was best in their lives ; but who
failed at last because their heart was not whole. Underneath all this there was
•*a root of bitterness" — love of riches, or pleasure, or even distracting cares of
home ; and though for a time these blemishes showed no vitality, not springing up
eimultaneously with the crop of new desires, yet by the rapidity and rankness of
128 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. iv.
their growth they just spoiled the life when it was on the eve of bearing fruit. 4.
The last class was composed of those whooe hearts the Baptist had prepared, and
the Lord had opened, who were *• waiting for the consolation of Israel : " men
like Andrew, John, Nathanael, or women like the devont band who " ministered to
Him of their substance," and in varying degrees of productiveness bore fruit in their
lives. (H, M. Lttckock, D.D.) Likeness between the Word and seed: — God's
Word has all the hidden life of a seed. Take up a grain of wheat in your hand,
and ask yourself where its life lies. Not, surely, upon the surface ; not in its
inner compartments as a distinct thing. Chemistry will give you every material
element it contains, and you will be as far as ever from knowing or seeing the very
thing that makes it a seed — that mysterious something we call its life. Within
that httle mass of matter there lies a force which sun, rain, and soil shall call forth
with voices it will hear and obey. God hath given it a body, and to every seed
his own body. Tlie hidden life and unwearied force of the wheat-grain furnish
analogies to the Word of God. Heaven and earth shall pass away, but the Word
of Christ shall not pass away. This is not because of any arbitrary fiat of Omnipo-
tence, any mechanically conferred Banctity, but because it is an eternal seed, to
which God has given eternal form. But this vitality is not lodged where we can
■eeit. {E. N. Packard.)
Vers. 4-15. Some fell by the way-aide, and the fowls of the air came and
devoured it up. — Though men be outward hearers of the Word, and do also in some
sort understand what is taught, yet if their hearts be so hardened in sin and through
Satan's temptations that they are not affected and moved by it, it can never profit
them. As seed sown upon a beaten path or highway cannot sink into the earth by
reason of the hardness of it, nor take root or fructify ; so the doctrine of the Word
being preached to those whose hearts are hardened in sin cannot enter into them,
and therefore cannot profit them. If the seed of the Word be only sown in their
outward ears and in their minds; if it lie above ground, i.e. , if it swim and float aloft
in their brain and understanding only, and do not enter and sink into their hearts ;
if their hearts be not affected to love and embrace it, as well as their understandings
enlightened by it, it will never take root or bear fruit in them. (O. Fetter.) The
character of inattentive hearers considered : — 1. These persons hear the Word. They
are not deaf, and so utterly incapable of hearing. Nor are they determined that
they will not hear (Jer. xxii. 21). 2. They are only occasional hearers of the Word.
They are, in regard of the assemblies where the gospel is preached, what the way-
side is to ate field where the seed is sown, ground without the inclosure, or whereon
the seed falls as it were accidentally or by chance. They come by constraint of
conscience, or from curiosity. 3. They are not at all prepared for hearing the Word.
The ground is beaten, and has received no cultivation. 4. That they hear in a
heedless, desultory manner. 6. They remain grossly ignorant. 6. But some in
this class do in a sense understand the Word, for the seed is said to be sown in
their hearts. They understand speculatively. 7. It makes no abiding impression
on the heart. 8. Our Lord's account of the manner in which these impressions are
effaced — •' the fowls of the air came," &o. I. Who is this wicked onk, akd why hx
IS BO CALLED. From this short scriptural account of Satan it appears with what
propriety he is here, and in many other passages, styled emphatically *♦ the wicked
one." He is wicked himself in ihe highest degree, for as he exceeds all others in
subtilty and power, so also in impiety and sin ; a spirit the most proud, false,
envious, turbulent, and malignant among all the various orders of fallen spirits.
He, too, is the author of all wickedness, the contriver and promoter of every species
of iniquity. Whence, the infinitely numerous evils that prevail in our world are
called " the works of the devil." Such is the character of this first apostate arch-
angel, the grand, avowed enemy of God and man. And thus are we led to our
second inquiry — H. What is meant by his " catching away the seed," and how is
THIS DOME f For no more is meant by the influence which Satan is supposed in
eertain cases to exert over the mind, than what is similar to the influence which
wicked men are acknowledged to have over others, to allure them by persuasions to
sin, and to dissuade them by menaces from their duty. It cannot force them into
iin against the consent of their will ; or, in other words, so operate on their minds
as to deprive them of that freedom which is necessary to constitute them account-
able creatures. This mighty adversary watches his opportunity to prevent the
•alatary effect of the Word upon those that hear it. And considering what is the
•baraoter of the sort of bearers we are here speaking of, it is not to be wondered at
ST. MARK. 129
Miat he is permitted to oatcb away the seed sown in their hearts, or that he sncceedfl
in the attempt. For if their motives in attending upon Divine service are base and
unworthy, if they address themselves to the duties of religion without any previous
preparation, how righteous is it in God to permit Satan to use every possible artifice
to defeat the great and good ends to which religious instructions are directed 1
1. Satan uses his utmost endeavours to divert men's attention from the Word while
they are hearing it. 2. Satan uses every art to excite and inflame men's prejudices
against the Word they hear. 3. Another artifice Satan uses to counteract the
influence of God's Word on men's hearts is to prevent their recollecting it after they
have heard it. (S. Stennett, D.D.) Wasted teed: — We are taught to regard
waste of all kinds as a great fault and sin. Wasted food, wasted money, wasted
health, wasted time, wasted instruction, wasted opportunities of doing and receiving
good; these, in their several ways, are all sins against God and our own souls.
While we are young we are punished for them ; when we are older we suffer for
them ; the consummation of them at last is the loss of the soul. But what I wish
you to observe is that, sinful as waste of any kind is in as, there is in nature, in
providence, in the spiritual world, a constant waste going on, suggesting much of
anxious and painful wonder. (C, J. Vaughan, D.D,) The plough needed: —
Nothing is needed but to plough it up. God drives a deep share through many a
wayside heart, and the coulter of affliction breaks up many a spirit, that it may
afterwards yield " the peaceable fruit of righteousness." And if He does that for
you, bless Him for His mercy ; but do not wait, for you can get rid of all this
insensibility by the simple effort of your own will. {Dr. McLaren.) The devil
U an inveterate enemy to the hearing of the Wordf and to the fruit of it: — He
hinders men in sundry ways from profiting by the Word. 1. By keeping them
from hearing it ; stirring up occasions of worldly business or some other imped i-
ments on the Lord's day to keep them away from church. 2. By keeping them
from attending to it when they do hear it. 3. By blinding their minds ^at thej
may not understand it. 4. By labouring to hold them in infidelity that they may
not believe and apply the Word to themselves. 5. By using means to thrust the
Word heard out of their minds that they may not remember it. 6. By keeping
them from yielding obedience to the Word. See from this what need we have to
be watchful over ourselves and against Satan and his practices when we are to hear
the Word. How needful to watch before we hear, that he may not lay blocks in our
way to hinder us from hearing. How needful in time of hearing to watch against
Satan, that he hinder not our attention by suggesting to us roving thoughts. How
needful to pray to God not to suffer him to blind our minds or harden our hearts
in unbelief, that we may not understand or believe the Word. How needful also
to watch against Satan after we have heard, that he do not quickly thrust the Word
out of our minds and memories. Look to these things therefore every one that
woold profit by hearing. The more malicious and politic Satan is to hinder us
from profiting, the more wise must we be and careful to disappoint him of his
purpose. (G. Fetter.) The Satanic hindering of the Word of Ood .'—The Lord
tells us that this indifference to the Word, by which it faUs to convince and convert,
is brought about, not through natural, but through supernatural, agency. An
enemy does this. In our present fallen state h« is able to summon up thoughts
which may distract the attention from the thoughts which the life-giving Word
suggests, and our evil will falls in with the thoughts which he instils. These
thoughts may not always be evil by any means, but they do his work, for they dis-
tract the attention, and being far more in accordance with the bent of the evil heart
the good thought is swallowed up, effaced, and forgotten. I think that no minister
who comes closely into contact with the souls of men for their conversion, but must
be aware that there is not only an evil principle at work in the heart, but an evil
personal agency which is able to suggest doubts and interpose difficulties, and assist
the soul in barring out the Word by placing all his cunning at the disposal of the
evil wilL Satan or his emissary, the evil spirit to whom he has conmiitted the
destruction of the man's soul, cometh immediately. {M. F. Sadler.) The devil
a great traveller : — The devil is no idle spirit, but a walker and vagrant runagate
walker, like Gain, that cannot rest in a place. I have heard of travellers that have
seen many parts of the world, but never any perpetual peripatetic or universal
walker but Satan, who hath travelled all coasts and comers of the earth, and would
of heaven, too, if he might be admitted. He is not like St. George's statue, ever
on horseback and never ridiug, but, as if he were knight-marshal of the whole
world, he is ever walking. His motion is circular, and his unwearied steps know
9
130 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chaf. it.
no rest. He hath a large and endless circuit. His walk is a siege, that goes about
the fort to find the weakest place as easiest for battery. His walks are the circum-
ferenoa, and man the centre. The motive, cause, and main intention of his joumej
is to win man. As he walks through the streets there he throws a short measure,
a false balance, into a tradesman's shop. He steps into a drinking-house and
kindles a quarrel. He shoulders to the bar and pops in a forged evidence, a coun-
terfeit seal. He dares enter the schools and commence schisms and contentions,
nay, climb up into the pulpit and broach sects and divisions. He travels no ground
but, like a stinking fox or dying oppressor, he leaves a scent behind him. (T.
Adams.)
Vers. 5, 16, 17. — ^And some fell on stony ground, where it liad not much earth. —
The seed upon stony ground: — I. A brief biography of certain professors i?»
RELIGION. They heard the Word. They received the Word. They received it
immediately. They received it with gladness. They made rapid progress. In du3
time came trial. Immediately they were offended. II. Their badicaIj defect. It
lay in an unbroken heart. This led to want of depth. They lacked moisture.
III. The lessons of the text. Be deeply in earnest. Watch the effect of your
own daily trials. Constantly examine yourself. Let all this show us how necessary
it is that we cast all the stress and burden of our salvation entirely upon the Lord
Jesus Christ. (C H. Spurgeon.) The character of enthusiastic hearers con-
sidered:— I. With the character of these hearers previous to their hearing
the Word. They are compared to stony or rocky ground, which is unfavourable to
cultivation ; but yet has a little mould or earth cast over it, suited to receive seed,
and in which it may lodge awhile, and disseminate itself. So that this ground is
partly bad and partly good. And thus are very aptly described, the miserably per-
verse and depraved state of the will on the one hand, and the warmth and
liveliness of the natural passions on the other. These qualities often meet in one
and the same person, and bear a different aspect to religion, the one being un-
favourable and the other favourable to it. 1. It is true of these hearers that their
will is wretchedly depraved. Stone is a figure used in Scripture to signify the
obstinate aversion of the mind to what is holy and good. So Ezekiel speaks of a
stony heart in opposition to a heart of flesh ; and Paul, of the living epistles of
Christ being written, not on tables of stone, but fleshly tables of the heart. And
yet, with all this depravity of the will, they have— 2. Warm and lively passions ; a
circumstance in itself not a little favourable to religion. This is admirably
expressed by the earth or mould said to be cast over the rock, which was of a nature
so rich and luxuriant, that the seed instantly mingled with it, and expanding,
sprung up, and created a beautiful verdure which promised great fruitfulness.
Nothing was wanting to produce the desired effect but a sufficient depth of earth.
Had the ground at bottom been properly cultivated this fine mould cast upon it
would have assisted and forwarded vegetation ; but that remaining hard and rocky,
this had only a temporary effect, and served little other purpose than to deceive the
expectation of the husbandman. Such is truly the case in the matter before us. The
heart, like the stony ground, is indisposed to what is good ; and the affections, like
the earth cast over it, are warm and lively ; wherefore, the Word not entering into
the former, and yet mingling with the latter, produces no real fruit, but only the
gay and splendid appearance of an external profession. And here it is further to
be remarked, that however the passions are of excellent use in religion, if the heart
be right with God ; yet, this not being the case, their influence is rather pernicious
than salutary : indeed, the more eager and impetuous the natural temper, the
greater evil is in this case to be apprehended from it, both to the man himself, and
to those with whom he is connected. As to himself mistaking the warm efforts of
mere passion for real religion, he instantly concludes, that he is without doubt a
real Christian, and so is essentially injured by the imposition he puts upon himself.
But it will be proper, before we pass on, to examine more particularly the character
of the enthusiast. He has a lively imagination, but no judgment to correct it ;
and warm feelings, but neither wisdom nor resolution to control them. Struck
with appearances, he instantly admits the reality of things, without allowing him-
self time to inquire into their nature, evidence and tendency. And impressions
thus recei-ved, whether from objects presented to the senses, or representations made
to the fancy, produce a mighty and instantaneous effect on his passions. These
Agitate his whole frame, and precipitate him into action, without any interveuinjf
eonsideratiou, reflection, or prospect. Av.\ Viis actions, under the impulse of a
IT.] ST. MARK. 131
heated imagination, are either right or wrong, usefnl or pernioioua, jnst as the
actions he has thus hastily adopted happen to be conformable to truth or error.
So we shall see the countenance of a man of this complexion kindling into raptore
and ecstasy at the idea of something new and marvellous ; a flood of tears stream-
ing down his cheeks at the representation of some moving scene of distress ; his
face turning pale, and his limbs trembling, at the apprehension of some impend-
ing danger ; his whole frame distorted with rage at the hearing of some instance of
cruelty ; and his eye sparkling with joy in the prospect of some fancied bliss. Nor
is it to be wondered, that one who is wholly at the mercy of these passions, without
the guidance of a sober understanding, and the control of a well-disposed heart,
should, as is often the case, break out into loud and clamorous language, assume
the most frantic gestures, and be guilty of the most strange and extravagant
actions. 1. He receives the Word. Receiving is a figurative term, and may here be
explained of what is the consequence of admitting any doctrine to be true, that is,
the professing it. It is used in Scripture to signify faith itself (John i. 12). Now,
as faith has the promise of salvation, and some believe who yet are not saved, a
distinction becomes necessary ; and the common one of historical and Divine faith
is easy and natural. Or if the faith is genuine, yet his notion of the gospel has a
great deal of error mingled with it. ^d then he receives it not upon the Divine
testimony, or a clear perception of the internal and external evidence of it ; but upon
the confident assertions of others, whose eagerness and zeal, expressed by their
loud voice and violent gesture, have a mighty effect upon that credulity we spoke
of under the former head. Further, his faith is not cordial ; it has not the hearty
approbation of his jtidgment and will. Nor does it produce the kindly and
acceptable fruits of love and obedience. Yet it is not without its effects, for being
of that enthusiastic turn of mind before described, his imagination and passions
have a great influence on his profession. Whence those strong appearances of
sincerity, earnestness, and zeal, whereby he imposes upon himself and others.
Now he loudly afiirms he believes, scarcely admitting that man to be a Christian
who at all hesitates. Then he treats cool reasoning, and calm reflection, as
inimical to religion. 2. He receives the Word immediately. The seed is said in
the text to spring up forthwith, and so the idea may respect the quickness of the
vegetation. It is true both of the reception and operation of the Word. He
receives it not circuitously, but directly. It is no sooner spoken than admitted to
be true. He is not embarrassed with doubt, and does not hesitate, reflect, or com-
pare what he has heard with the Scriptures. So without either his judgment being
informed, or his will renewed, he is impetuously carried away with a mere sound.
8. His receiving the Word with joy. Joy is a pleasing elevation of the spirits,
excited by the possession of some present, or the expectation of some future, good.
Now, the gospel is good news, and so adapted to give pleasure to the mind. He
therefore who receives it with joy, receives it as it ought to be received. But the
man our Saviour here describes is not a real Christian, his joy therefore must have
something in it, or in the circumstances accompanying it, distinguishable from
that of a genuine believer. Of Herod it is said that *'he heard John gladly:''
and from the story it clearly appears Herod remained, notwithstanding, the same
profligate man he was before. How, then, is the joy of the one to be distinguished
from that of the other 7 1. Let us consider what precedes it. The real Christian,
previous to his enjoying sohd peace, is usually much depressed and cast
down. Nor is his dejection the effect of bodily disorder, or an ill-temperature of
the animal spirits, or of something he can give no rational account of. It is an
anxiety occasioned by a sense of sin. But it stands to reason that the joy the
heart feels must bear some proportion to the anxiety it has suffered. 2. Let us
inquire what it is that excites this joy. The causes of that elevation of the spirits
which we commonly call joy are various. In some instances it is the Word itself,
the mere sound, without any idea affixed to it, that creates joy. The effect is
instantly and mechanically produced by the tone and cadence of the voice,
Rccompanied by an appearance, attitude, and gesture, that happen to please.
In other instances, it is not the sound only, but the sense, that affects. We may
easily conceive how a pleasing kind of sensation, excited in the breast by a
pathetic description of misery, particularly the sufferings of Christ, may be mis-
taken for religion. We are next to consider (3) what are the effects of it ? The
joy a real Christian feels, is sober, rational, well-grounded, and will admit of the
mo>:t pleasing reflections. He possesses himself ; he can calmly reason upon tha
ot his mind, and those great truths and objects, the contemplation of which
182 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [ohaj. it,
makes him happy; and he can recollect the pleasnreB he has enjoyed on some
special occasions with composure and satisfaction. It humbles him. The higher
he ascends the mount of communion with God, the less he appears in his own
eyes. Those beams of the sun of righteousness which gladden his heart, throw
a light upon his follies and sins. With Job, " he abhors himself, and repents in
dust and ashes." And, as the apostle expresses it, "thinks soberly of himself
as he ought to think." His joy inspires him with meekness, candour, and
benevolence. It allays, if not entirely extinguishes, the rage of violent passion,
fans the flame of fervent charity, and puts the soul into a temper, to unite
cordially with all good men, to pity the bad, and to forgive its bitterest enemies,
fiis joy, in a word, makes him watchful and holy. He rejoices with trembling,
is upon his guard against everything that may disturb the tranquillity of his
mind, holds sin at a distance as his greatest enemy, and aspires with growing
ardour to the likeness of the ever-blessed God. On the contrary, who that con-
templates the character of the credulous, self-deceived enthusiast, but must see
what has been said of the real Christian awfully reversed in his temper and con-
duct ? Is he sober, prudent and self-collected ? Ah 1 no. He is httle better than
a madman, or one drunk with wine wherein is excess. His heaven is a fool'a
paradise, and his account of it as unintelligible as the frantic talk of one in a
delirium. Is he humble? Far from it. The pride of religious frenzy swells him
into importance. Imagining himself a favourite of heaven, he looks down upon
his fellow-mortals with an air of indifference, if not contempt — " Stand at a dis-
tance, I am holier than thou." Is he meek, candid, and benevolent? So mach
the reverse, that the very names of these virtues sound harshly in his ear, and
stand for little else, in his opinion, than pusillanimity, formality, and hypocrisy.
Is he conscientious and circumspect in his deportment? No. Boasting of his
freedom, he can take liberties that border on immorality, and treat the scruples of
a weak believer as indicating a legal spirit. II. To consider the lauentabuc
APOSTASY OF THESB DELUDED MEN. The sccd that fell upon stony places, and forth-
with sprung up, in a little time "withered away." 1. The term of his profession
is short. Enthusiastic zeal, like inflammable air, quickly evaporates. The sources of
that pleasure which gives existence to a spurious religion, and an equivocal devotion,
are soon exhausted. The imagination tires, the senses are palled, and the passions, for
want of novelty and variety to keep them alive, sink away into a languid, unfeeling,
torpid state. 2. In what manner does he renounce his profession? He either silently
quits it, or publicly disavows it. He is offended, stumbles, falls, falls away. III. Thb
CAUSE or THESE mem'b APOSTASY. This our Saviour explains with admirable preci-
sion, by teaching us that it is partly owing to the want of something within, essen-
tially important to religion, and partly to a concurrence of circumstances from
without unfavourable to the profession of it. 1. Something is wanting within. The
parable says: •' The seed forthwith sprung up, because it had no deepness of earth;**
*' and it withered away because it had no root," as Mark has it ; " and lacked
moisture," as is expressed in Luke. For want of a su£&cient quantity of earth the
seed did not sink deep enough into the ground, and through the luxuriance of the
mould it too quickly disseminated and sprung up. So that having taken root, there
was no source whence the tender grass might be supplied with nourishment ; and of
consequence it must necessarily in a little time wither and die. Agreeably
therefore to the figure, our Lord, in His explanation of the parable, speaks
of these hearers as ♦* having no root in themselves." And such precisely is the
case of the sort of professors we are discoursing of. They have no principle
of religion in their hearts. Their notions are not properly digested, they do
not disseminate themselves in the mind, take fast hold on the conscience, and
incorporate, if I may so express myself, with the practical powers of the souL
*♦ The Word preached does not profit them, not being mixed with faith ; " or, as per-
haps it might be rendered, because they are not united by faith to the word. 2. To
a concurrence of circumstances from without unfavourable to the profession of reli-
gion. These, in the parable, are all comprehended under the idea of the sun's
scorching the springing grass ; and, in our Saviour's exposition of it, are described
by the terms tribulation, persecution, affliction, and temptation, all which arise be-
cause of the word, or are occasioned by it. Eeligion, however, is not to be blamed
for these evils, of which it is no way the cause, though it may be the occasion ; they
are to be set down to the account of a fatal, but too frequent combination of a de-
praved heart, with an impetuous natural temper. 1. What a striking picture has
our Saviour here given us of human nature. 2. Of what importance is it to stud^
CHAP. XV.] ST, MARK, 183
ourselves, and to keep a guard upon our passions ! 8. We see what kind of preach-
ing is to be coveted, and what avoided. 4. Our Lord, by the instruction given us
in our text, has enabled us to reply to an objection often urged against the doctrine
of the saints' final perseverance. We are frequently reminded of persons whose
profession for a time was fair and splendid, but who in the end renounced it. And
no doubt this has been the fact in too many sad instances. Yet what does it prove ?
No more than that these men were either designing hypocrites, or else hastily took
upon them a profession of what they did not rightly understand, truly beUeve, and
cordially approve. 5. And lastly, let not the mournful subject we have been con-
sidering create any discouragement in the breast of the truly humble but weak
Christian. (S. Stennett, D.D.) Rapid growth means rapid decay : — Precocity
^nd rapid growth are everywhere the forerunners of rapid decay. The oak that is
to stand a thousand years does not shoot up like the hop or the creeper. {M. Dods,
D.D.) Excited but not converted : — The short and pathetic history of some who
are called revival converts. They are charmed but not changed ; much excited,
but not truly converted. These are they that " have no root in themselves, and bo
endure but for a time " (Mark iv. 17). Their root is in the crowd, the fine music, tke
lively stir, the hearty companionships of the gospel-meeting. The Moravians every
Sabbath offer up this prayer, " From light-minded swarming, deliver us, good God."
{J. Welh.) Perfect too soon: — Most Christians are perfect too soon, which is the
reason they are never perfect. {A. Farindon.) Fair-weather Christians : — Some
fresh-water sailor, standing upon the shore on a fair day, and beholding the ship's
top and top -gallant sail in all their bravery, riding safely at anchor, thinks it a
brave thing to go to sea, and will by all means aboard ; but being out a league or
two from the harbour, and feeling by the rocking of the ship his stomach begin to
work, and his soul even to abhor all manner of meat — or otherwise a storm to arise,
the wind and the sea as it were conspiring the sinking of the vessel — forthwith
repents his folly, and makes vows that if he but once be set ashore again he will
bid an eternal farewell to all such voyages. And thus there be many faint-hearted
Christians to be found amongst us, who, in calm days of peace, when religion is
not overclouded by the times, will needs join themselves to the number of the peo-
pie of God ; they will be as earnest and as forward as the best, and who but they t
Yet, let but a tempest begin to appear, and the sea to grow rougher than at the
first entry, the times alter, troubles rise, many cross winds of opposition and
gainsaying begin to blow, they are weary of their course, and will to shore again,
resolving never to thrust themselves into any more adventures. Christ they would
have by all means, but Christ crucified by no means. If the way to heaven be by
the gates of hell, let who will they will not go that way ; they rather sit down and
be quiet. {Spencer.) Religion genuine in bad times: — Many men owe their religion
not to grace, but to the favour of the times ; 'tis in fashion, they may profess it a.\
a cheap rate, because none contradict it. Indeed, it shows that they are extremely
bad when they may be as good without any loss to themselves, but it does not
show they are good that they are only good in good times. Dead fish swim with
the stream. They do not build upon the rock, but set up a shed leaning to another
man's house, which costs them nothing ; carried with a multitude, are not able to
go alone in a good way ; if they be religious, it is for others' sakes. Then is integ-
rity discovered, when persons dare be good in bad times, as Noah was said to be an
upright man, because he was perfect in his generation. (T. Manton,)
Vers. 7, 18, 19. And some fell among thorns, and the thorns grew np and
ehoked Itb — The character of worldly -minded hearers considered: — 1. The treat-
ment the Word meets with from these persons. They hear and receive it. 2. How
this salutary operation on his heart is obstructed and defeated. 3. What is the
event? These thorns choke the Word. I. What these things abb which
OBSTBUCT THE DUB OPEBATION OF God's WoBD ON THE HEABTS OF THESE MEN?
1. The cares of the world. By the cares of the world He means criminal anxieties
about secular concerns. (1) They relate to subsistence. By this we mean the
necessaries of life ; man cannot be indifferent to these, but must not distrust the
providence of God. (2) They relate to competence. This is a relative term, and
nas respect to capacity and desire. But such as is suited to desires not regulated
by religion and reason, is an equivocal competence ; all care about it is criminal.
A prince requires more than his subject; desires directed to this object are com-
mendable. But even though the object be right, the care about it may exceed, and
nnduly engross our attention and time. (3) They relate to affluence. This also
134 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. Lchap. iv,
right ; but pride, ambition, and the gratification of vain passions must be
offensive to God. Thus these cares, like thorns in the soil, will stifle every
generous sentiment. 2. The deceitfulness of riches. Men are prone to reason
mistakenly about riches. Riches are, in a sense, themselves deceitful. They
assume an appearance different from their real nature and use, and so the
unwajy observer is imposed upon. Consider the false reasonings of a depraved
heart : (1) As to wealth itsell Riches may be a blessing. The value of them
is chiefly to be estimated by their use. Here men mistake it. Money will
purchase delicate food, fine mansions, but will it set him beyond the reach of
pain, contempt ? (2) Of the mode of acquiring wealth men reason very mistakenly.
They too often ignore the providence of God, so He blasts their schemes. (3) Men
reason deceitfully concerning the term of enjoying the wealth they acquire. 8.
The pleasures of this life, or *• the lusts of other things." Here we need not be
very particular, for as riches are the means of procuring pleasures, and most
generally coveted with that view, the same folly and criminality we have charged
to the account of the avaricious is, with a little variation of circumstances, to be
imputed likewise to the sensualist. Pleasure indeed, abstractedly considered, is a
real good ; the desire of it is congenial with our nature, and cannot be eradicated
without the destruction of our very existence. This is not therefore what our
Lord condemns. He well knew that there are passions and appetites proper to
men as men, that the moderate gratification of them is necessary to their happi-
ness, and of consequence that the desire of such gratification is not sinful. But
the pleasure He prohibits is that which results from the indulgence of irregular
desires, I mean such as are directed to wrong objects, and such as are excessive in
their degree. 11. To show how they obstbuct the due operation of God's
WoED ok the heabt. 1. As to these of the first description, the careful. It
involves distrust of the faithfulness and goodness of Divine providence. 2. As to
the avaricious. How vain such desires, expectations, and exertions. Will you
suffer such noxious weeds to grow in your heart ? Wisdom will give you riches and
honour. 3. As to the voluptuous. It precipitates into extravagances which often
prove fatal to character. There is no profiting by the Word we hear, without
duly weighing and considering it. There are three things necessary to this : 1.
Leisure. Ground choked with briers and thorns affords not room for the seed
cast upon it to expand and grow. In like manner, he whose attention is wholly
taken up with secular affairs has not leisure for consideration. Say, you who are
oppressed with the cares, or absorbed in the pleasures of life, whether this is
not the fact ? What is it first catches your imagination when you awake in the
morning ? What is it engrosses your attention all the day ? What is it goes with
you to your bed, and follows you through the restless hours of night ? What is it
you are constantly thinking of at home, abroad, and in the house of God ? It is
the world. Oh sad ! not a day, not an hour, scarce a moment in reserve, for a
meditation on God, your soul, and an eternal world 1 And can religion exist where
it is never thought of, or gain ground in a heart where it is but now and then
ftd verted to ? As well might a man expect to live without sustenance, or get strong
without digesting his food. That then, which deprives men of time for consider,
ation, is essentially injurious to religion. 2. Composure. By composure, I mean
that calmness or self-possession, whereby we are enabled to attend soberly and
without interruption to the business we are about. Consideration implies this in
it ; for how is it possible that a man should duly consider a subject, whether civil
or religious, cooUy reason upon it, and thoroughly enter into the spirit of it, if his
mind is all the while occupied with a thousand other things, foreign to the matter
before him ? In order, therefore, to our doing justice to any question of import-
ance, we must rid our minds of all impertinent thoughts, be self-collected, and fix
our attention steadily to the point. How difficult this is I need not say. Studious
people feel the difficulty ; and in regard of religion, the best of men are sensible of
their weakness in this respect, and deeply lament it. But where the world gains
the ascendant, this difficulty is increased, and, in some instances, becomes almost
insuperable. Let me here describe to you, in a few words, the almost incessant
hurry and confusion of their minds, who answer to the three characters in our
text of the careful, the covetous, and the voluptuous. So you will clearly see, how
impossible it is for persons thus circumstanced to pay the attention to religious
•ubjects which is necessary in order to their being profited by them. 1. The
case of him who is swallowed up with the anxious cares of life is truly lament-
able. It is not riches the unhappy man aims at, but a competence, or
\
«HAP. XT.] ST. MARK. I3i
perhaps a mere subsistenoe. The dread of being reduced, with his family,
to extreme poverty, harrows up his very soul. The horrid spectres of contempt,
famine, and a prison, haunt his imagination. And how incapable is a man, thus
circumstanced, of coolly thinking on the great things of religion 1 Does he attempt
in his retirement to fix his attention to some Divine subject 7 he instantly fails in
the attempt, cares like a wild deluge rush in upon his soul, and break all the
measures he had taken to obtain a little respite from his trouble. 2. The like
effect hath an eager desire after riches to disqualify men for consideration. When
on his knees he is still in the world : when he is worshipping God in his family he
is still pursuing his gain. His closet is an accompting house, and his church an
exchange. 3. How an eager attention to worldly pleasures must have the like
effect, to render the mind incapable of serious consideration. Scenes of splendour
and sensual delight are before the eyes of men of this character. How is it possible
for a mind thus hurried, dissipated, intoxicated with vain amusements, to cultivate
religion ? They not only deprive men of time, composure for serious consideration
— 3. But of all inclination to it. But what I mean, is to show that an eager atten-
tion to the things of this life confirms the habit of inconsideration, and tends,
where there is an aptitude to meditation, to weaken and deprave it. A mind wholly
occupied with the objects of sense, is not only estranged from the great realities of
religion, but averse to them. As it has neither leisure nor calmness for sublime
contemplations, so it has no taste or relish for them. " The carnal mind is enmity
against God." And the more carnal it grows by incessant commerce with the
world, the more does that prejudice and enmity increase. What violence are such
men obliged to put upon themselves, if at any time, by some extraordinary circum-
stance, they are prevailed on to think of the concerns of their souls I The businesB
is not only awkward, as they are unaccustomed to it, but it is exceeding irksome
and painful. Now if a hearty inclination to any business is necessary to capacity
to pursue it with success, whatever tends to abate that inclination, or to confirm
the opposite aversion, is essentially injurious to such business. In like manner,
cares, riches, and pleasures of the world choke the Word. III. The sad evbnt ot
SUCH UNDUE commerce WITH THE WORLD. The Unhappy man not having leisure,
calmness, or inclination to attend to the Word. 1. He understands not the Word of
the kingdom. He has a speculative acquaintance with the truths of religion ; it
cannot be experimental. 2. He does not believe it. He who believes the gospel
to the salvation of his soul must enter into the spirit of it. But how can this be
the case with a man whose heart is possessed by the god of this world ? 3. Not
rightly understanding or believing the Word of the kingdom, he is not obedient to
it. 4. What is the final issue of all ? Why, the man himself, as well as the seed,
is choked (Luke viii. 14). Exhortation : 1. Let the professors of religion have no
more to do with the world than duty clearly requires. •* Be not conformed to this
world ; but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind." " Come out from
among them, and be ye separate, and touch not the unclean thing." "Have no
fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness." 2. If thorns before we are
aware get in, let us instantly root them out. Exert aU the power of Christian
resolution. 3. Keceive the good seed. It is not enough that the ground is cleared
of noxious weeds, if it be not sown with the proper grain. Neither is it suflScient
to guard against the corrupt maxims, customs, and manners of the world, if our
hearts are not impregnated with Divine truth. 4. And lastly, look to God for His
blessing. *' Paul may plant, and Apollos water ; but it is God that giveth the
increase." We may hear, read, meditate, reflect, watch, and use many good
endeavours ; but if no regard be had to a superior influence, all will be vain.
{S. Stennett, D.D.) The Word choked : — Kobert Bums — who had times of serious
reflection, in one of which, as recorded by his own pen, he beautifully compares
himself, in the review of his past life, to a lonely man walking amid the ruins of a
noble temple, where pillars stand dismantled of their capitals, and elaborate works
of purest marble lie on the ground, overgrown by tall, foul, rank weeds — was once
brought, as I have heard, under deep convictions. He was in great alarm. The
seed of the Word had begun to grow. He sought counsel from one called a minister
of the gospel. Alas, that in that crisis of his history he should have trusted the
helm to the hands of such a pilot 1 This so-called minister laughed at the poet's
fears — bade him dance them away at balls, drown them in bowls of wine, fly from
these phantoms to the arms of pleasure. Fatal, too pleasant advice I He followed
It : and ♦• the lusts of other things " entering in, choked the word. (T. Guthrie.)
The insinuating destruction of truth in the soul : — In the gardens of Hampton
186 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chat. iv.
Court yoa will see many trees entirely vanquished and well-nigh strangled by huge
eoilsof ivy, which arewound about them like the snakes aroundthe unhappy Laocoon ;
there is no untwisting the folds, they are too giant-like, and fast fixed, and every
hour the rootlets of the climber are sucking the life out of the unhappy tree. ^ Yet
there was a day when the ivy was a tiny aspirant, only asking a little aid in
climbing ; had it been denied then the tree had never become its victim, but by
degrees the humble weakling grew in strength and arrogance, and at last it
assumed the mastery, and the tall tree became the prey of the creeping, insinuating
destroyer. The moral is too obvious. Sorrowfully do we remember many noble
characters which have been ruined little by little by insinuating habits. Covetous-
ness, drink, the love of pleasure, and pride, have often been the ivy that has
wrought the ruin. (T/ie Sword and Tiowel.) The cares of wealth: — An
emperor once said to his courtiers : " You gaze on my purple robe and golden
crown, but did you know what cares are under it, you would not take it up from
the ground to have it." {Brooks.) Gold a destroyer: — When Arates threw his
gold into the sea, he cried out, •• I will destroy you, lest you should destroy me."
(Seeker.) Prosperity favourable to deception .'—The snow covers many a dung,
hill, and so doth prosperity many a rotten heart. It is easy to wade in a warm
bath, and every bird can sing on a sunshiny day. {Brooks.) Remedies against
immoderate care for temporal things : — 1. Consider the nature of these things : they
are vain, transitory, perishing ; and they only minister to our earthly life which
will end we know not how soon. 2. By all our care we cannot help or profit
ourselves, without God's blessing on the means we use. 3. It is a heathenish
practice thus to vex and trouble ourselves with immoderate cares for earthly
things : not fit for Christians, who profess faith in God's Providence. 4. We are
commanded to cast our cares upon God ; and He has promised to care for us, and
to provide for us all things necessary for this life, as well as for that which is to
come, if we depend on Him by faith (Psa. Iv. 2 ; 1 Peter v. 7). 6. Consider how
God provides for other creatures, of less value and worth than ourselves, without
their care. 6. Immoderate cares for this life oppress the heart and mind exceed-
ingly, taking them up so that they cannot be free to meditate on spiritual
and heavenly things: hindering men also from daily preparing themselves for
death and judgment (Luke xxi. 34). 7. Let our chief care be for heavenly and
spiritual things, which concern God's glory and the salvation of our souls. Thii
will moderate and slake our care for temporal things. {G. Fetter.) The difficulty
of worldly prosperity : — Great skill is required to the governing of a plentiful
and prosperous estate, so as it may be safe and comfortable to the owner, and
beneficial to others. Every corporal may know how to order some few files ; but
to marshal many troops in a regiment, many regiments in a whole body of an
army, requu-es the skill of an experienced general. {Hall.) Prosperity a trial: —
Life is a time for the getting of character, and for the trial and perfecting of it. The
world is a moral furnace, in which God searches and tests us. One man He tries
by adversity, another by prosperity. And the latter is the severer of the two. 1. A
prosperous man has little time to spare for religion. Every effort is needed to
ensure the continued success of his worldly enterprises. Accordingly, his spiritual
life droops and withers. 2. From want of cultivation his taste for spiritual
things abates. 3. Pride is apt to increase. 4. Self-indulgence creeps in, and the
lower appetites obtain mastery in the heart. 5. The result is a thoroughly
worldly life — a life occupied wholly with transitory things, a life in which religion
has no part. These are some of the chief dangers which appertain to a state of
prosperity. Beware of them in time. They encroach very gradually ; and before
you are aware of it, you may be swallowed up. {A. Raleigh, D.D.) Ill effects
of prosperity: — Generally speaking, the sunshine of too much worldly favour weakens
and relaxes our spiritual nerves ; as weather, too intensely hot, relaxes those of the
body. A degree of seasonable opposition, like a fine dry frost, strengthens and
invigorates and braces up. {A, M. Toplady.) Prosperity causes men to forget God : —
Prosperity most usually makes us proud, insolent, forgetful of God, and of aU duties
we owe unto Him. It chokes and extinguishes, or at least cools and abates, the heat
and vigour of all virtue in us. And as the ivy, whilst it embraces the oak, sucks the
sap from the root, and in time makes it rot and perish ; so worldly prosperity
kills ui with kindness whilst it sucks from us the sap of God's graces, and bo
makes our spiritual growth and strength to decay and languish. Neither do men
ever almost suffer an eclipse of their virtues and good parts, but when they are
in the full of worldly prosperity. {Downam^.) Worldliness defined : — It is thr
CHAP, nr.] ST. MARK. 137
(spirit of a life, not the objects with which the life is conversant. It is not the
" flesh," nor the •' eye," nor " life " which are forbidden, but the lust of these.
It is not this earth nor the men who inhabit it, nor the sphere of our legitimate
activity, that we may not love ; but it is the way in which the love is given
which constitutes worldliness. {F. W. Bohertson.) Worldliness i» the spirit of
childhood carried on into manhood. The child lives in the present hour ; to-day to
him is everything. The holiday promised at a distant interval is no hohday at
all — ^it must be either now or never. Natural in the child, and therefore pardonable,
this spirit when carried on into manhood is worldliness. (Ibid.) The deceitfuU
ness of riches : Heathen testimony to this : — When Cyrus received intelligence
that the Lydians had revolted from him, he told a friend, with much emotion,
that he had almost determined to make them all slaves. His friend expostulated,
begging him to pardon them. **But," he added, "that they may no more rebel
or be troublesome to you, command them to lay aside their arms, to wear long
vests and buskins, that is, to vie with each other in the elegance and richness of
their dress. Order them to drink, and sing, and play, and you will soon see their
spirits broken, and themselves changed to the effieminacy of women, so that they
will no more rebel, nor give you any further uneasiness." The advice was
followed, and the result proved how politic it was. While the advice is such as no
good man could consistently follow, the incident shows the deteriorating influence
of luxury in a very striking light. The lusts of other things : — The love of
pleasure, of amusements, and sensual gratifications, and even the cultivation of
refined tastes; all which have a tendency to engross the mind, and induce it
quietly to take up with a world which yields it so much satisfaction. (M. F.
Sadler.) " Entering in : " — Very suggestive expression ; teaching us that these
eares of the world, and deceitfulness of riches, may not be present or sensibly felt
when the Word first springs up in the heart ; but, when opportunity offers, they
may make their appearance, and grow far faster and more vigorously than the
true religious life, and ultimately destroy it. {Ibid.)
Vers. 8, 20. And other fell on good ground, and did yield fruit that sprang up
and Increased. — The character of sincere hearers considered: — 1. That these
hearers have honest and good hearts. The ground must be properly manured and
prepared, before the seed can so mingle with it as to produce fruit. In hke
manner, the powers of the soul must be renewed by Divine grace, before the
instructions of God's Word can so incorporate with them as to become fruitful.
Their understanding is illuminated, and a new bent is given to their will. So,
S. They hear the Word after a different manner, and to a very different purpose
from what others do, and from what they themselves formerly did. They hear it
with attention, candour, meekness, and simplicity ; and then — to go on with our
Saviour's account of these hearers — they, 3. Understand the Word. This is not
expressly said, as I remember, of either of the former characters. Their know-
ledge is, in short, experimental and practical. 4. They keep the Word. The seed
once lodged in the heart remains there. It is not caught away by the wicked one,
it is not destroyed by the scorching beams of persecution, nor is it choked by the
thorns of worldly cares and pleasures. It is laid up in the understanding, memory,
and affections; and guarded with attention and care, as the most invaluable
treasure. And, indeed, how is it imaginable that the man who has received the
truth in the love of it, has ventured his everlasting all on it, and has no other
ground of hope whatever, should be willing to part with this good Word of the
grace of God 1 sooner would he renounce his dearest temporal enjoyments, yea,
even life itself. Again, 6. They bring forth fruit. The seed springs up, looks
green, and promises a ifair harvest. They profess the Christian name, and live
answerable to it. Their external conduct is sober, useful, and honourable ; and
their temper is pious, benevolent, and holy. The fruit they bear is of the same
nature with the seed whence it springs. 6. They bring forth fruit with patience. It
is a considerable time before the seed disseminates, rises into the stalk and the ear,
and ripens into fruit (James v. 7). 7. And lastly. They bring forth fruit in different
degrees, '* some thirty, some sixty, and some an hundred fold." And now, in
order to the fully discussing this argument, we shall — I. Show the nkcessitt oi
TffB hbart's being madk honest and good, in order to men's duly becsivino thb
WOan AND EEEPINO IT; THIS WILL CLEARLY APPEAR ON A LITTLE BEFLECTION. I
suppose it will scarce be denied that the will and affections have a considerable
Influence on the operations of the understanding ari judgment. To a mind.
188 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [cha?. it.
therefore, nnder the tyranny of pride and pleasure, positions that are hostile to
these passions will not easily gain admission. Their first appearance will create
prejudice. And if that prejudice does not instantly preclude all consideration, it
will yet throw insuperable obstructions in the way of impartial inquiry. If it does
not absolutely put out the eye of reason, it will yet raise such dust before it as will
effectually prevent its perceiving the object. What men do not care to believe,
they will take pains to persuade themselves is not true. When once a new bias is
given to the will and affections, and a man, from a proud, becomes a humble man,
from a lover of this world, a lover of God, his prejudices against the gospel will,
instantly subside. The thick vapours exhaled from a sensual heart, which had
obscured his understanding, will disperse ; and the light of Divine truth shine in
upon him with commanding evidence. He will receive the truth in the love of it
How important, then, is regeneration 1 This leads us— II. To describe the kind
OF rBuiT WHICH SUCH PERSONS WILL BEAB. It is good fmit — frult of the same nature
with the seed whence it grows, and the soil with which it is incorporated : of the
same nature with the gospel itself which is received in faith, and with those
holy principles which are infused by the blessed Spirit. Here let us dwell a little more
particularly on the nature and tendency of the gospel. •* God is in Christ recon-
ciling the world to Himself, not imputing their trespasses to them." O how
inflexible the justice, how venerable the holiness, and how boundless the goodness
of God 1 And if this be the gospel, who can hesitate a moment upon the question
respecting its natural and proper tendency? How can piety languish and die
amidst this scene of wonders ? How can the heart, occupied with these sentiments,
remain unsusceptible to the feelings of justice, truth, humanity, and benevolence f
How can a man believe himself to be that guilty, depraved, helpless wretch which
this gospel supposes him to be, and not be humble ? How can he behold the
Creator of the world expiring in agonies on the cross, and follow Him thence a
pale, breathless corpse to the tomb, and not feel a sovereign contempt for the
pomps and vanities of this transitory state ? But to bring the matter more fully
home to the point before ns, what kind of a man is the real Christian ? Let ns
contemplate his character, and consider what is the general course of his life.
Instructed in this Divine doctrine, and having his heart made honest and good, he
will be a man of piety, integrity, and purity. •* The grace of God, which bringeth
salvation, will teach him to deny ungodliness, and worldly lusts, and to live soberly,
righteously, and godly in this present world " (Tit. ii 11, 12). As to piety. A
due regard to the authority of the blessed God will have a commanding influence
npon his temper and practice. As to social duties. His conduct will be governed
by the rule his Divine Master has laid down, of doing to others as he would have
them do to him. As to personal duties. He will use the comforts of life, which
he enjoys as the fruits of Divine benevolence, with temperance and moderation.
Saoh are the fruits which they bring forth, who hear the Word in the manner our
Saviour describes, and who keep it in good and honest hearts (Eph, iv. 1 ; Phil. i. 27 *,
Gal. V. 22, 23). But it is not meant by this description of the Christian to raise him
above the rank of humanity, or to give a colouring to the picture which it will not bear.
He is still a man, not an angel. To fix the standard of real religion at a mark to
which none can arrive, is to do an injury to religion itself, as well as to discourage
the hearts of its best friends. But though perfection, in the strict sense of the
term, is not to be admitted, yet the fruit which every real Christian bears is good
fruit. 1. How gracious is that influence which the blessed God exerts, to make the
heart honest and good, and so dispose it to receive the Word, and profit by it t
2. From the nature and tendency of the gospel, which has been just delineated, we
derive a strong presumptive evidence of its truth. 3. Of what importance is it
that we converse intimately with the gospel, in order to our bringing forth the
fruits of holiness I 4, And lastly, How vain a thing is mere speculation in
religion I We have discoursed on the two first heads, and proceed now — III. To
CONSIDER THB GREAT VARIBTT THERE IS AMONO CHRISTIANS IN RBOARD 0»
DEGREES OP PBUITFULNE8S, AND THB REASONS OP IT. First, aS tO the
fact that there are degrees of fruitfulness, a Uttle observation will suflSciently
prove it. Fruitfulness may be considered in regard both of the devout affections
of the heart, and the external actions of the life ; in each of which views it wiW
admit of degrees. The variety is prodigious. What multitudes live harmleiis,
sober, and regular lives. Their obedience is rather negative than positive. They
bring no dishonour on their profession, nor yet are they very ornamental and
exemplary. Others are strictly conscientious and circumspect in their walk, far
OHAX>. IT.] ST. MARK. 189
removed from all appearance of gaiety and dissipation, and remarkably serious
and constant in their attendance upon religious duties ; but, for want of sweetness
of temper, or of that Bprightliness and freedom which a lively faith inspires, the
fruit they bear is but slender, and of an unpleasant flavour. There are those,
further, in whom seriousness and cheerfulness are happily united, and whose con-
duct is amiable in the view of all around them ; but then, moving in a narrow
sphere, and possessing no great zeal or resolution, their lives are distinguished by
few remarkable exertions for the glory of God, and the good of others. And
again, there are a number whose bosoms, glowing with flaming zeal and ardent
love, are rich in good works, never weary in well-doing, and full of the fruits of
righteousness, to the praise and the glory of God. In the garden of God the*e
are trees of different growth. Some newly planted, of slender stature and feeble
make, which yet bring forth good, though but little, fruit. And here and there you
see one that out-tops all the rest, whose roots spread far and wide, and whose
boughs are laden in autumn with rich and large fruit. Such variety is there
among Christians. And variety there is, too, in the different species of good
works. Some are eminent in this virtue, and some in that; while perhaps a few
abound in every good word and work. Whoever consults the history of religion in
the Bible will see all that has been said exemplified in the characters and lives of a
long scroll of pious men. Not to speak here of the particular excellences that
distinguished these men of God from each other, it is enough to observe that some
vastly outshone others. The proportions of a hundred, sixty, and thirty fold,
might be applied to patriarchs, prophets, judges, kings, apostles, and the Christians
of the primitive church. Between, for instance, an Abraham that offered up his
only son, and a righteous Lot, that lingered at the call of an angel. Secondly,
inquire into the grounds and reasons of this disparity among Christians respecting
the fruits of holiness. These are of very different consideration. Many of them
will be found to have no connection at all with the inward temper of the mind ; a
reflection, therefore, upon them will give energy to what has been said in regard of
the charity we ought to exercise in judging of others. Let us begin, then —
1. With men's worldly circumstances. The a^uent Christian you will see pouring
his bounty on all around him. But the poor Christian can render few, if any, of
these services to his fellow-creatures. 2. Opportunity is another ground of dis-
tinction among Christians in regard of fruitfulness. By opportunity I mean
occasions of usefulness, which arise under the particular and immediate direction
of Divine Providence. A Daniel shall have such easy access to the presence of a
mighty tyrant as shall enable him to whisper the most beneflcial counsels in his
ear ; and an apostle, by being brought in chains before a no less powerful prince,
shall have an opportunity of defending the cause of his Divine Master in the most
essential manner. 3. Mental abilities have a considerable influence in this matter.
What shining talents do some good men possess 1 They have extensive learning,
great knowledge of m inkind, much sagacity and penetration, singular fortitude, a
happy manner of address, flowing language, and a remarkable sweetuess of temper.
4. The different means of religion that good men enjoy are another occasion of
their different degrees of fruitfulness. 5. That the comparative different state of
religion in one Christian and another is the more immediate and direct cause of
their different fruitfulness. But this plain general truth we may affirm, leaving
every one to apply it to himself, that, in proportion as religion is on the advance or
decline in a man's heart, so will his external conduct be more or hes exemplary.
6. And lastly, the greater or less effusion of Divine influences. IV. The blessed-
ness OF THOSE WHO, HEABINO THE WOKD, AMD KEEPING IT IN HONEST AND OOOD HEABTS,
BBiNO FOBTH THE FBuiTS OF HOLINESS. 1. As to the pleasure that accompanies
mgenuous obedience. " Great peace have they," says David, " who love Thy law,
and nothing shall offend them " (Psa. cxix. 165). 2. Fruitfulness affords a noble
proof of a man's uprightness, and so tends indirectly, as well as directly, to pro-
mote his happiness. 3. The esteem, too, in which he is held among his fellow-
Cbristians must contribute not a little to his comfort. 4. How glorious will be the
rewards which the fruitful Christian will receive at the hands of the Great Husband-
man on the day of harvest 1 That day is approaching. ** Mark the perfect man ;
behold the upright ; for the end of that man is peace." Going down to
death like a shock of corn fully ripe, the precious grain shall lie secure in the bosom
of the earth ; angels shall keep their vigils about it : while the immortal spirit,
acquiring its highest degree of perfection, shall join the company of the blessed
above. (S. Stennett, D.D.) " Same thirty-fold " ; — Every one has observed thf
140 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. iv.
difference between those who may be called good Christians, in the matter of their
good works — how some seem to produce twice or thrice the fruit that others do.
Some are, compared with others, three times more careful in all the trifling matters
which make up so much of life; three times more self-denying, three times more
liberal, three times more humble, subdued, and thankful. Dues not the Lord
recognize this difference in the parable of the pounds — when the nobleman, in
leaving, gives a pound to each of his servants; and one servant makes it ten
pounds, and another five ; and he commends both, but gives to the more industrious
worker twice the reward ? {M. F. Sadler.) Patience : — Patience is power. With
time and patience the mulberry-leaf becomes satin, {Eastern Proverb.) Never
think that God's delays are God's denials. Hold on ; hold fast ; hold out : Patience
is genius. {Buffon,) Meditation: — Meditation is partly a passive, partly an
active state. Whoever has pondered long over a plan which he is anxious to
accomplish, without distinctly seeing at first the way, knows what meditation is.
The subject itself presents Itself in leisure moments spontaneously : but then all
this sets the mind at work— contriving, imagining, rejecting, modifying. It is in
this way that one of the greatest of English engineers, a man uncouth and un-
accustomed to regular disoipUne of mind, is said to have accomplished his most
marvellous triumphs. He threw bridges over almost impracticable torrents, and
pierced the eternal mountains for his viaducts. Sometimes a difficulty brought all
the work to a pause ; then he would shut himself up in his room, eat nothing,
speak to no one, abandon himself intensely to the contemplation of that on
which his heart was set; and at the end of two or three days, would come
forth serene and calm, walk to the spot, and quietly give orders which seemed the
result of superhuman intuition. This was meditation. {F, W. Robertson,)
The numerical relations of good and evil: — In the parable of the four sorts of
ground whereon the seed was sown, the last alone proved fruitful. There the bad
were more than the good. But amongst the servants, two improved their talents,
or pounds, and one only buried them. Here the good were more than the
bad. Again, amongst the ten virgins, five were wise and five were foolish. There
the good and bad were equal. I see, that concerning the number of the saints in
comparison to the reprobates, no certainty can be collected from these parables.
Good reason, for it is not their principal purpose to meddle with that point. Grant
that I may never rack a Scripture simile beyond the true intent thereof. {Thomas
Fuller.) Favourable moral conditions : — A great deal of fire falleth upon a stone
aod it Dometh not, but a dry chip soon taketh fire. (T. Manton.)
Yer. 9. Ee tliat hath ears to hear. — The duty of consideration explained and
enforced: — 1. Our Lord evidently meant, by the language of the tez^ to remind
His hearers that it was an apologue, fable, or parable He had been delivering. 2.
By this mode of expression they were further reminded that the several truths
veiled under this parable were most interesting and important. 8. The direct
purport of the exhortation was, to persuade them to consider what they had heard.
4. He in effect tells them that if they were not benefited by what they heard the
fault was rather in their will than their understanding. " Who hath ears to hear,
let him hear." I. Let us consisbb thb dutt oub Savioub xnculcatbs om those to
WHOM THS Word is preached. 1. Let us take care to digest properly in our own
minds the subject on which we mean to discourse to others. 2. Care also is to be
taken about the manner, as well as the matter, of our discourse. 3. That we should
look well to our aims and views in discoursing of the great things of God. 4. T
our dependence should be firmly placed on the gracious and seasonable influences
the Holy Spirit. And now, thus prepared, we have a right, be our audience who they
may, to adopt the language of our Master, and with authority to say, " Who hath
ears to hear, let him hear." Upon the grounds of common sense as well as religion,
we may demand their most serious attention. First, some kind of preparation
Erevious to our hearing the Word. Secondly, how we ought to behave ourselves in the
ouse of God. Thirdly, a duty lying upon us after we have heard the Word. Recol-
lection is what I mean, together with self -application and prayer. 1. Avoid as much
M possible everything that may tend to dibsipate the mind, and render it incapable
of consideration and recollection. 2. Be not fond of hearing more than you can
retain and digest. There is suoh a thing as intemperance in regard of the mind
M wall as the body ; and if excessive eating may be as hurtful to the constitution
M ezeessive abstinence, it is also true of the mind, that the hearing more than is
Al maj be very nearly as injurious as the not hearing at all. A great abundance
«HAP. iv.J ST, MARK. 141
of instruction poured into the ear, without sufficient intermission for reflection and
practice, is extremely prejudicial: it confounds the judgment, overburdens the
memory, and so jades the mind as to render it incapable of recollecting afterwarda
what it had heard, and of calmly deliberating thereon. 3. The making a point of
retiring at the close of the day, for the purpose of recollection and prayer. II. To
ENFOBcs WHAT HAS BEEN BAiD WITH SUITABLE MOTIVES. And our first argument shall be
taken. First, from the decency and fitness of the thing itself. Secondly, let me
remind yon of the particular obligations you owe to those whose ministrations you
attend. Thirdly, it is to be remembered that preaching is a Divine institution ;
and that they who are called to dispense the gospel, have, by virtue of that call, a
claim to the attention of those to whom they are sent. Fourthly, from the
momentous nature of the business itself on which we are sent to you. Fifthly, the
necessity of consideration in order to ourprofiting by the Word. Sixthly,there are many
obstructions in the way of this duty, the recollection of which ought to have the force
of an argument to excite and animate us to it. Seventhly, the authority that enjoins
this duty upon us adds infinite weight to all that has been said. Eighthly and
lastly, |rom the advantage to be expected from consideration. (5. Stennett, D.D.)
A man who did not wish to hear the sermon : — An innkeeper, addicted to intemper-
ance, on hearing of the particularly pleasing mode of singing at a church some
miles distant, went one Sunday to gratify his curiosity, but with a resolution not to
hear a word of the sermon. Having with difficulty found admission into a narrow,
open pew, as soon as the hymn before sermon was sung, which he heard with great
attention, he secured both his ears against the sermon with his fore-fingers. He
had not been in this position many minutes, before the prayer finished, and the
sermon commenced with a powerful appeal to the consciences of his hearers, of the
necessity of attending to the things wLach belonged to their eternal peace ; and the
minister, addressing them solemnly, said : " He that hath ears to hear, let him
hear." Just the moment before these words were pronounced, a fly having fastened
on the face of the innkeeper, and stung him sharply, he drew one of his fingers
from his ear and struck off the painful visitant. At that very moment the words,
•♦He that hath ears to hear, let him hear," pronounced with great solemnity,
entered the ear that was opened, like a clap of thunder. It struck him with
irresistible force : he kept his hand from returning to his ear, and, feeling an
impression he had never known before, he presently withdrew the other finger, and
listened with deep attention to the discourse which followed. A salutary change
was produced on him. He abandoned his former evil ways, became truly serious,
and for many years went, in all weather, six miles to the church where his soul
was awakened from its spiritual slumber. After about eighteen years' faithful and
dose walk with God, he died, rejoicing in the hope of that glory which he now
enjoys. Hearing the gospel not to be vitiated by a faulty faculty : — The eye,
indeed, is seldom blinded to exclude the most trifling object that might afford ua
pleasure, and the ear is never shut to anything that might contribute to our
amusement ; yet reason is often hoodwinked to the precepts of virtue, and our
consciences are suffered to slumber and to sleep, while we follow the gratificationa
of appetite and passion. Thus it was that many, fettered with prejudice and
superstition, bUnded by ignorance and pride, or enslaved to the world, could hear
the Son of God Himself inculcate the sublimest truths, and teach the most impor-
tant duties, with insulting scorn or listless indifference. Against such dreadful
perversion and abuse of the talent entrusted to our care let us be ever on our guard.
Let us consider that, on the due improvement of our faculties, from the benefits of
experiencd, and the discipline of religion, every real blessing is founded. (J,
Howletty B.D.) Hearing the gospel not to be vitiated by moral insensibility ;—
Perhaps you hear with comfort and satisfaction those vices forbidden of which yon
are in no danger, from inohnation, from your natural constitution, or from some
pecuUar circumstance of life. When you are old, you might with pleasure listen to
such admonitions as chiefly regard the errors of the young ; and while in the full
enjoyment of happiness and prosperity, you might, with a degree of self -approba-
tion, join in the condemnation of such wickedness and disorder as relate only to
the wretched and the poor. On such occasions, perhaps, you will allow the Word
of God to resemble *♦ a two-edged sword," and to speak "with power." But say,
are you so willing to hear it, when it calls aloud against some darling vice 7 when
it arraigns your favourite indulgences, or curtail you of sinful pleasures ? {Ibid.)
Hearing the gospel constant: — Farther, if we are really interested in *♦ those things
which belong unto our peace," we should endeavour to make that interest uniform
142 TEE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap, if
and constant. It should extend to all our actions ; it should be the rule and
measure of our conduct ; and its influence should be felt as a gentle, but powerful,
corrective throughout the whole system of life. As for those casual emotions which
arise only during the moments of exhortation, or those frail resolutions which are
formed only when no temptation is near, and which, in the conflux of worldly
passions and pleasures, are as soon lost as the brook that mingles with the ocean,
of what avail are they ? (Ibid.) Heedful hearing : — I. Let us seek, in the begin-
ning, to discriminate and classify the ordinary hearers of the Word as they show
THEMSELVES IN THE SIGHT OF THE PREACHEB. 1. For One class, he would be sure
to see the listless hearers. He might discover in various parts of the audience-room
those whose countenances would defy all study. They are perfect blanks. No
more Hfe appears than there would be discovered in a gallery of statuary. Some
will be asleep. Some there will be who hear the sound of the words, but so
inattentively and unintelligently that nothing is regarded as it passes their ears.
The sentences fall on their organs like the ordinary ticking of a clock ; they disturb
no sensibility whatsoever. We should judge that they attracted no attention of
any sort if it were not that the eyes flash up suddenly with an eager curiosity if, for
some reason, the sound happens to stop. 2. Next, this visitor in the pulpit would
notice the criticising hearers. 3. Yet a third class might be singled out: the
suspicious hearers. These are continually on the look-out, not exactly, in our
times, for heterodoxy, but for eccentricities. They are afraid the preacher will
say something inconsistent with the established views they cherish. 4. Then there
is a fourth class : the distributing hearers. Some most devout people always listen
for the sake of the rest of the congregation. II. Let us seek now, in the second
place, to discriminate and classify the ordinary hearers of the Word as thbt
APPEAB IN THE sioHT 07 THE WORLD AT LABOE. Here comes in the question as to
results rather than mere behaviour. We fall back upon the parable of the sower ;
it was given as our Saviour's illustration of the effect of the truth as it is thrown
upon human hearts like seed upon different soils. 1. To begin with, there are the
wayside hearers. Let us read over the old story, and lay alongside of the descrip-
tion at once our Lord's interpretation. {See Mark iv. 4, 15.) King Agrippa (Acts
xxvi. 28) is instanced to us as an example. He went with great pomp to hear the
Apostle Paul preach. That earnest and powerful pleader laid the truth on his
heart, as if he would plough and harrow it into his life. But the devil's birds were
near to pick up the seed. Pride came with her glittering pinioni, and chirped in
his ear, ** Thou art a king, but who is this tent-maker ? " Lust croaked behind
Pride, and had something to say about giving up Berenice. So they came one after
another, picked up the grain, and flew away. 2. Then our Lord mentions the
stony-ground hearers, and afterwards tells His disciples what He means. (See Mark
iv. 5, 15.) Paul had some of these hearers among his converts in Galatia (Gal. v.
7). Christ had some among His followers in Galilee : their earth was only surface
soil (John vi. 66). 3. Next, our Lord classifies the thorn-choked hearers. A
pecuHar kind of thorn in that country grows suddenly and rankly, and seems to
love the borders of wheat-fields (Mark iv. 7, 18). Demas's history has been
offered us for an illustration of this short-lived sort of emotion, in one melancholy
sentence cf Paul's Second Epistle to Timothy (iv. 10). Perhaps the saddest of all
experiences we have to meet is found in this watching of people who promise so
much but who come to so little. 4. Then our Saviour speaks of the good-ground
hearers in the parable. But for such, seed-sowing would be a failure. (See Mark
iv. 8, 20.) The great source of comfort to a preacher of the gospel is found here ;
the principal field of his labour is good ground. He is sustained by two promises,
one about the seed (Isa. Iv. 10, 11), and one about the sower (Psa. cxxvi. 5, 6). lU.
Let us now, in the third place, look upon those who hear the Word as thkt
APPEAR IN the sioht OF Goo. (C. S, i2o&tmon, D.D.)
Yer. 11. Unto you It is given to know the mystery of the Kingdom of God.
Parables for two multitudes : — As for the multitude, if you strain Christ's language
respecting them, you might say they were punished for their blindness by His
making dark to them things which He made clear to others. This has been said.
You have heard of judicial blindness — blindness, that is to say, inflicted by God as
the punishment of unbelief or other sin. But if this was the case, why did He speak
to them at all r Did He wish only a dozen men, or a few dozens, to understand
what He said f If then it was not to hide His meaning from the multitude that
Christ taught them in parables, how do you account for Bia choosing to teach them
CHAP. IV.] ST, MARK. 148
in that way ? To answer this question we have to consider for a moment-. J. What
A PABABLE IS. Now there is one thing certain as te these stories, that whatever
might be His intention in nsing them, they do clear np things wonderfully. It
would have taken a long discourse on true piety to show the distinction between it
and false piety, which is shown in the Publican and the Pharisee ; and what long
discourse would have shown it so well ? Eemember this also, in regard to parables
like Christ's — they keep close to reality, they reproduce nature and life. Now if
we take all this into consideration as to the nature of parables, it is possible, I
think, to account for Christ's speaking to the multitude in parables, and parables
alone. In the first place, possibly there were what we may caU considerations of
prudence and policy in favour of this way of teaching. Look at the whole set of
parables in this chapter ; they all relate to the kingdom of God ; and one thing
they all more or less distinctly intimate, and it is that the establishment of that
kingdom must be a work of time. It is like a sower who goes forth to sow ; it is
like the tares and the wheat which must grow np together until the harvest. As
all these parables here suggest to us, time was needed for truth to prevail against
error. Direct attack upon it was useless. Christ had tried that and found it un-
profitable. And here the parables came in to serve the purpose. They did not
assail error or assert truth controversially. Every one could take from them and
make of them what he pleased. But there was one thing certain with regard to
them, and it was that they were certain to be remembered. They were sure to pass
from mouth to mouth, and travel where doctrine however clear, or precept however
just, would not reach. The meaning in them now open to the few would remstin,
and by and by might be perceived by the many. Time would ripen them for the
purpose of instructing the multitude as well as the disciples. And this was their
special virtue, that while they were thus fitted to preserve truth from being for-
gotten, they were above all fitted to preserve truth from being corrupted. Those
whose minds were filled with the Pharisees' ideas of religion could hardly help
misunderstanding and misrepresenting the doctrinal sayings of Jesus. But it is
impossible to corrupt, or sophisticate, or distort the story of the Prodigal Son or
the Good Samaritan. A parable cannot be qualified like a saying or a body ol
doctrine. It is a bit of fact, and cannot be qualified by words. It keeps its mean-
ing pure in spite of every effort to corrupt it. It is of kin with nature, which,
whatever yon may say of it or of any part of it, remains nature still, and is ti^e
truth. And thus it was for one thing Christ spoke to the multitude in parables.
His purpose was to teach them truth, but their minds being filled with error, they
had to unlearn that first. He spoke in parables, knowing that parables would last,
and that while they lasted and were working their work, they would not, because
they could not, be corrupted. But the great thing was that which distinguishes
parables from other figures of speech — that they keep close to reality, to nature,
and to Ufe. It was the special vice of the religion of the multitude in Christ's day,
that it was wholly artificial, all sacrifice and no mercy. Their teachers taught
them for doctrine the commandments of men, the thousand and one arbitrary rules
about eating and drinking, about fasts and feasts, about offerings, about days,
about intercourse with Gentiles, and touching the dead. The scope of Christ's
teaching was exactly the opposite of this. He was for mercy, and not sacrifice ; for
righteousness, and not mint and anise and cummin. It suited His doctrine, there-
fore, to be taught in parables. The world itself, if your doctrine is mercy, is one
great parable ready for your use. Reality of any kind is truth, and all truth,
from the lowest to the highest, is one ; so that there are books in the running
brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything. The truth of things, begin with
it where you will, if you follow it out will lead you up to God. You can make birds
and beasts, and virtues and vices talk what you please ; but you cannot, if you go
to nature and human life find a parable to fit a lie. Christ chose that form of
teaching which brought men face to face with nature and human life, because the
men He had to teach, in the matter of their religion had departed as far as was
possible from the truth of things, and had lost themselves in sayings and com-
mandments and traditions, questions and strifes of words. He put truth into a
form in which it could not perish or be corrupted ; He turned his hearers' minds in
the direction in which they could soonest unlearn their errors and be prepared to
receive His truth. II. Now^ consider the dutebent effect of His pabables
UPON THE MULTITUDE AND THE DISCIPLES, As for the multitude, they had first to
begin and unlearn everything they believed, before they could perceive the truth
which His parables ccntained. Before anything in this particular set of paraVlet
144 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chip. rr.
here as to the kingdom of God could reach their minds, they had to unlearn all
that they had learned from their teachers as to the kingdom of God being a Jewish
commonwealth. The sower going forth to sow, the tares and the wheat growing up
together until the harvest, the grain of mustard seed, the leaven hid in meal, the
net dropped into the sea — what had these to tell them of their ideal Jewish
commonwealth ? They would find no meaning in these, as far as that kingdom of
heaven was concerned. This, to be sure, was not to be the final effect of Christ's
parables, even upon the multitude. From being brought into this school of nature
and life some of them at least would begin to feel its influence in turning them
away from strifes of words about rites and ceremonies. Contact with reality could
scarcely fail in many cases to engender suspicion, and then distrust, of all that was
fictitious ; and so in the decline of error truth would have its day. But, while, in
course of time this might be the effect of the parables upon the multitude, the im-
mediate effect, no doubt, was to confuse and darken their minds. Turn, on the
other hand, to the disciples. They had, at least in part, unlearned the false.
They had begun to appreciate the true. To the minds of the disciples, alive already
to the value of righteousness and the worthlessness of ceremonial sanctity, how rich
in Instruction and in comfort the story of the Prodigal Son ! — how true and how
glorious its representation of the great Father as one who is never so happy as
when He has to welcome back to the home of eternal goodness and eternal blessed-
ness the erring and miserable of His children ! To their minds again how full of
meaning and of comfort, the parable of the Lost Sheep ! — the suggestion of the
Eternal Eighteousness engrossed, to the neglect of suns and solar systems, in the
recovery of one soul which has strayed into the damnation of evil. Think that
these disciples, like the multitude, were Jews, and held, till Christ began to teach,
the religious notions of the multitude. Then consider all the certainty and breadth
and fulness which these parables of their Master could not but give to their new
faith, — faith in God as good, in goodness as man's true life, in the ultimate
triumph of good over evil. Consider under what a different aspect the world now
presented itself to their minds. He said to His disciples in reference to these
parables, *• Blessed are your eyes, for they see, and your ears, for they hear ; " and
also when he added, " For verily I say unto you, that many prophets and righteous
men have desired to see those things which ye see, and have not seen them, and to
hear those things which ye hear, and have not heard them." I conclude with two
remarks, the first of which is, that not one religion, but every religion, that of
Christ included, is apt, in the common mind, to degenerate into ceremonialism
and strifes of words. And, in that case, what professes to be light becomes the
grossest of darkness. It was not for an age, therefore, but for all time, that Christ
spoke in parables to the multitude. These parables of His, bringing us into contact
with nature and human life, furnish us with a resource of inestimable value against
the prevalence of irreligion, error, infidelity, not only in the world, but in the
church. Thus the parables are the salt of Christianity to preserve it from corrup-
tion and extinction ; they recall us from all this barren or disgraceful war of words
to the sterling virtue of the Good Samaritan, and the substantial goodness of the
Prodigal's Father. Again, I remark, the blessedness of Christian belief is that it is
A vision of the universe as undivided. What did the disciples, who were blessed in
their seeing, see? When it was given to them, as it was not given to the multitude,
to understand these parables, what did they hear and comprehend ? It was not
that their own souls were to be saved ; it was not that the Jews were to be converted,
or the Gentiles to be visited by Christian missionaries. It was, that the kingdom
of Gk)d, the Father and Saviour of all men, is eternal ; that evil here and every.
where is temporary, and good alone is for ever and ever. {J. Service^ D.D.)
Ver. 13. That seeing, they may see, and not perceive. — The derelict : — Terrible,
but just and adorable, is this conduct of God towards those who have deserved to
be left to themselves. This dereliction has several degrees — 1. Their being aban-
doned to their own darkness. 2. Their not being able to underRtand the truths of
salvation. 3. Their not obeying them. 4. Tlieir remaining in their sins. 6.
Their being condemned. God is pleased to give examples of tbis, that the children
of promise may know how much they owe to grace. It is a mistake to imagine
that whatever appears most severe and rigorous in the conduct of God ought to be
concealed from Christians. He Himself instructs us in it, on purpose that we
■hould take great notice of it on proper occasions, and glorify Him on the account
of aU the good we do, and of all the evil which we avoid. {Quesnel.)
OBAT. IT.] ST, MARK, 146
Ver. 21. Is a candle brougrht to be put under a bnsliel, or under a bed 7— r*#
extension of the kingdom : — The kingdom, as it appeared in its beginning, is like
the little grains of wheat cast into the damp soil in the chilly days of spring. To
the mature Christian of to-day it is like the city which John saw, filling all his
vision, let down out of heaven from God, glowing with strange opaline light, so
that neither sun nor moon were louger needed, with jasper walls and pavements
of transparent gold, and great gates, each a single pearl, and at each gate a
glorious angel. This parable teaches ns that one of the agencies bringing about
this result is man's work in the kingdom. 1. To make known its character and
the conditions of entrance into it. Even the smallest taper is lighted in order that
it may give light. The youngest disciple is to shine for the guidance of others.
The rays of one little lamp, piercing through miles of gloom, have saved noble
ships from destruction, with all their precious living freight. It may have been
only such a lamp as lights one little room; but it was surrounded by powerful
reflectors, which sent its rays afar, and multiplied its influence a hundredfold.
S. To give his mind and heart to increase his knowledge and experience of the
truth by which the kingdom grows. The lighted lamp must have oil to feed upon.
We cannot be making known the character of the kingdom unless our knowledge
of it is growing. Alas for him before whose eyes the vision of the heavenly city,
once seen, is allowed to fade and disappear I On the other hand, the more brightly
we shine, the more eagerly we seek and the more fully we receive that which keeps
the light burning. The more generously we give to others what we know of the
gospel, the more clearly it will be revealed to us. (A. E. Dunning.) The Word
not to he hidden: — This reproves those who hide their knowledge of the Word, and
keep it to themselves only, shutting up this light within their own breast, as it
were, as in a close and private place, that it cannot be seen of others, and so af
others have no benefit by it. They do not shine to others by the light of that
knowledge which is in them ; they show forth no fruits of it in a holy conversa>
tion ; neither are they careful to communicate their knowledge to others by
instruction of them in the ways of God. What is this but hiding the candle under
a bushel, or setting it under a bed, when it should be set upon a candlestick, that
the light of it might be plainly seen by those in the house ? Let such consider bow
great a sin it is to hide the spiritual gifts bestowed on ns by God, and not to employ
them well to the glory of God and the good of our brethren. If thou hast never
so much knowledge in the Word, and yet dost hide it only in thine own breast, and
in thine own head, and dost not shine to others by the light of it, then thy know-
ledge is no sanctified and saving knowledge ; for if it were, it could not thus lie hid
and buried in thee, but it would manifest itself toward others for their good : it
would not only enlighten thy mind, but also thy whole outward life and conversa-
tion, causing thee to shine as a light or candle unto others. (Q. Fetter.) Sharing
our light : — It might seem a superfluous thing to urge the communication of gospel
hopes and comforts, but there is none more needed. For one person who puts the
candle on a candlestick, there are twenty that put it under a bushel — a dull wooden
measure that keeps in all the light. There are many sorts of bushels. 1. One
very bad one, and much employed to cover the light, is modesty (falsely so called).
Modesty pretends to be not good enough or wise enough to speak, and turns the
soul into a dark lantern. 2. Selfishness is another bushel for the light ; forbidding
men to take the trouble to shed it. 8. Indolence. 4. Fearfulness. 6. Despair
of people heeding. 6. A narrow doctrine of salvation. 7. Sometimes a little
scientific knowledge, creating conceit, makes a bushel ; men being so anxious to
mix the earthly with the heavenly light that the grave, sweet light of godly know-
ledge cannot get though the mistiness of the earthly mixture. (B, Olover,)
Ver. 22. For there Is nothing hid, which shall not be manifested. — ImmediaU
revelation not always desirable : — Here our Lord is justifying the parabolic form of
teaching, which often serves to veil the truth, on the ground that immediate reve-
lation is not always desirable. Many things are concealed, both in nature and by
art, though the coiicealment is by no means designed to be permanent. What
striking illustrations of this principle are furnished in geology 1 Look at the
almost measureless beds of coal, hidden for ages in the bowels of the earth, but
designed by Providence to be revealed when necetisity should arise. The precise
time for the unveiling it is not always easy to decide, because man's knowledge is
finite, but we rest assured that it will coincide with the need for its use. It is a
principle worth bearing in mind when human efforts fail ; for it is encouraging to
10
146 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. ir.
know that such a result may be due simply to the fact that we have tried uncon-
Boionsly to anticipate the fore-appointed time. {H. M. Ltickock, D.D.) Thinga
brought to light sooner or later : — The doctrine of Jesus Christ has nothing in it
■which fears the light ; it is itself the light which must enlighten the world. Every-
thing is brought to light sooner or later. The humble person conceals his virtue
in this life, but God will disclose it at the day of eternity. The hypocrite hides his
wickedness here, but he shall suffer an eternal confusion for it in th« sight of
heaven and earth. {Quesnel.) Secret sin comes out at the judgment : — One day
Thomas Edwards, the Scottish naturalist, went out on one of his expeditions to
search for insects. He had on, as usual on such occasions, an old coat with many
pockets, and each pocket held a goodly store of chip boxes wherein to place the
various specimens of the insect-tribe which he might find. He had a most success-
ful day ; met with many curious and rare insects, all of which he duly deposited
each in its own little box. And now he was returning home laden with the
spoils, every box and every pocket full, when suddenly he was overtaken by a
tremendous storm. The thunder roared, the lightning blazed around him, the
rain came down in torrents, like water from a bucket, and he was soon drenched
and wet to the skin. Espying a farmhouse at a short distance, he made for it, and
begged leave to shelter himself from the storm. To this the gudewife readily
assented, made up a blazing fire, threw on a log, and told him to draw near and
dry himself, whilst she went on with her household duties. Accordingly he did so,
and soon his benumbed limbs began to feel the pleasant warmth of the fire. Pre«
sently the housewife returned, uttered a loud cry of horror and disgust, caught up a
broomstick, and, deaf to all entreaties, drove him forth again into the pitiless
Btorm. He now looked at himself, and soon perceived the cause of this strange
treatment, for he was covered from head to foot with his beloved insects, 8o
abhorred by others. The soaking rain had loosed and destroyed the boxes, and
set their inhabitants at liberty, and they remained unseen in his pockets till the
warmth of the fire brought them out. So will it be in the day of judgment : men's
darling sins will come forth to light, and cover the sinner with horror and confusion
as with a cloak. The fire of that day will bring them forth, and then the sinner
will be driven out by the Judge into the fierce tempest of God's wrath.
Vera. 23, 24. Take heed what y« hear. — Instruction from the Lord to hearers: —
In these days we have many instructions as to preaching ; but our Lord principally
gave directions as to hearing. The art of attention is quite as difficult as that of
homiletics. The text may be viewed as a note of discrimination. Hear the truth,
and the truth only. Ee not indifierent as to your spiritual meat, but use discern-
ment. We shall use it as a note of arousing. When you do hear the truth, give
it such attention as it deserves. Give good heed to it. I. Hebe is a fbecept :
*• Take heed what ye hear." 1. Hear with discrimination, shunning false doctrina
(John X. 6). 2. Hear with attention ; really and earnestly hearing (Matt. xiii. 23).
3. Hear for yourself, with personal application (1 Sam. iii. 9). 4. Hear retentively,
endeavouring to remember the truth. 6. Hear desiringly, praying that the Word
may be blessed to you. 6. Hear practically, obeying the exhortation which
has come to you. Note— this hearing is to be given, not to a favonrite set of
doctrines, but to the whole of the Word of God (Psa. cxix. 128). II. Hebe is a
pbovebb: *'with what measure," &c. In proportion as you give yourself to
hearing, you shall gain by hearing. 1. Those who have no interest in the Word
find it uninteresting. 2. Those who desire to find fault, find faults enough.
3. Those who seek solid truth, learn it from any faithful ministry. 4. Those who
hunger find food. 6. Those who bring faith, receive assurance. 6. Those who
come joyfully are made glad. But no man finds blessing by hearing error ; nor by
careless, forgetful, cavilling hearing of the truth. III. Hebe is a pbomise :
"Unto you that hear,"<fec. You that hear shall have^l. More desire to hear.
2. More understanding of what ye hear. 3. More convincement of its truth.
4. More personal possession of the blessings of which you hear. 5. More delight in
hearing. 6. More practical benefit from it. God gives more to those who value
what they have. (C. H. Spurgeon.) The gospel demands and deserves attention : —
I, Hebe is implied the authoeity of the Speaker. 1. He had all the authority
which is derived from knowledge. Beligion was the subject He came to teach.
He knew the whole perfectly. 2. He had the authority which is derived from
unimpeachable rectitude. 3. He had the authority flowing from "miracles,
an wondars, and signs." 4. Consider His uncalculable dominion. There is na
OHAP. IV.] ST. MARK. 147
place where His voice does not reach. 5. Consider the dignity of His character—
♦♦ Where the word of a king is there is power." 6. And does He not stand in rela-
tions the most intimate and affecting? Shall such an authority he despised f
II. The importance op the subject. Jesus Christ is not afraid to awaken atten-
tion ; He knows that He can more than repay it. His instructions are important.
But in order to this, they must be true. How pleasing is truth. Whether we
consider the gospel with regard to man in his individual or social existence, it
demands attention. IH. It is an appeal to impartial consideration. The demand
supposes the subject to be accessible. In heathenism there were many mysteries
from a knowledge of which the common people were excluded. Error needs dis-
guise. Truth glories in exposure. Be sure that it is the gospel you are conveying,
and not any corruptions which have blended with it. Nothing is more adverse to
this demand than dissipation. Attention is necessary. But it is of little use to
apply a mind already biassed. Impatience disquahfies us from religious investiga-
tion. So does pride. Examine the character given by the sacred writers of God.
IV. He demands a practical improvement oe His word. 1. The danger of delu-
sion. 2. The precarious tenure of the privileges. 3. The happiness of those who
receive the gospel in power. 4. These means unimproved will be found injurious.
{W. Jay.) Light by hearing .-—The increase of spiritual knowledge is dependent
upon the temper in which we approach the study of Christian truth. According
to the measure of our faithfulness and diligence as hearers and students we shall
receive illumination. 1. There must be intellectual preparedness. This is often
wanting in those who listen to the teachings of Christianity. (1) Sometimes
the world and its cares fill the mind and prevent illumination (Luke xii. 13).
(2) Sometimes our intellectual tastes unfit us for the reception of spiritual truth.
This is an age of study and reading ; but much of our reading unfits us for the
reception of Divine light. Thousands cannot get at the truth because of the
fiction, the heresy, the jest-book, which is so constantly in their hand. Amid the
" Vanity Fair " of the mind, with its leerings, jesters, and scomers, the voice of
love, truth, purity, cannot be heard. To •• him that hath " seriousness, sympathy,
expectation, " it shall be given." 2. There must be moral preparedness. Men fail
to receive truth because of the impurity of their hearts. {W. L. Watkimmi.) A
worldly spirit hinders the saving power of the gospel: — Preachers are often blamed
because their discourse fails to impress, but the great Preacher Himself failed to
impress secularized minds 1 A lay preacher, some short time ago, dreamed a
dream, which was much more than a dream. He fancied himself in the pulpit
before ft large congregation, and, opening the Bible to give out his text, found, to
his dismay, that it was not the Bible, but his ledger, that he had brought with him
in mistake ; in confusion, he looked round, and seized what seemed the genuine
book, but it was his stock-book ; once more he found another book on the desk,
but on opening it, to his horror, found it was his cash-book, and awoke to find it
was not altogether a dream. Is it not often true that we cannot get at the gospel,
and its saving truths, because of worldly thoughts and sympathies ? The Hebrews
are rebuked because they " were dull of hearing ; " and the apostle indicates that
they had become worldly in heart and practice, and so were the less able to com-
prehend and receive the highest truth. (Ibid.) A spirit susceptible to saving
truth : — The grace and light of God come where there is a preparedness for them.
In nature the dew only distils where it is useful — the stones are dry, the plants are
wet ; and so He, "who is as the dew unto Israel," grants His truth and love to
susceptible minds and hearts — to those only which are ripe to profit. (Ibid.)
The pure heart the hearing heart : — There is an old church in Germany with which
a singular legend is connected. In this church, at certain times, a mighty treasure
is said to become visible to mortal eyes. Gold and silver vessels, of great magnificence
and in great abundance, are disclosed ; but only he who is free from sin can hope to
secure the precious vessels. This legend shadows a great truth. In the temple of
God, in the Word of God, are riches beyond gem or gold; but only the sincere, the pure
in purpose, can hope to realize the Divine treasure. There must be in the truth-
seeker a moral susceptibility and jjassion for the light. Some one has said that when
he goes to church he " lies back and thinks of nothing," and this saying has been
eulogized as representing the true attitude of a hearer. It is not the true attitude.
He who lies back and thinks of nothing would most probably go to sleep if Jesus
Christ were in the pulpit. John vii. 16, 17, teaches us that he who is willing,
desirous, anxious to do God's will, shall know the doctrine that is Divine. Who-
soever " willeth to do the will of God, shall know the doctrine that it is of God."
148 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap. it.
The bent of the will, the purity of the purpose, are the conditions of illumination.
To the determined lover of sin, to the indifferent, the truth is hidden from their
eyes. Feel the vast obligation of hearing: — It is a serious thing to preach.
Robertson said that " he would rather lead a forlorn hope than mount the pulpit
stairs." Is it not a solemn thing to hear ? Is not the pew as terrible as the
pulpit ? The scientist tells us that no substance can be subjected to the sun's raya
without undergoing an entire chemical change ; and it is equally true that no heart
can be subjected to the action of the truth without undergoing a profound moral
change. It is, indeed, the " savour of life unto life, or of death unto death."
Take heed wlmt ye hear : — Listen for the voice of God. In many places we are
chiefly interested in the form and expression of things, the subject is quite secon-
dary. If we Usten to a great orator, the subject is comparatively immaterial ; the
voice, the elocution, the rhetoric, the presentment of the subject is everythinj?. So,
in music, we are chiefly occupied with the style, composition, execution, giving
hardly a thought to the theme. So, in painting, it is the drawing, colouring,
grouping which monopolize attention. The eesthetical form, sound, colour, engage
attention in the music hall or chamber of arts. But not thus should it he in the
temple. There the subject is everything, modes of presentment httle indeed. Cere-
monies, preachers, buildings, stay not with these ; listen for the undertone of God, and
however dull your senses, however dull the preacher, you shall hear that still small
whisper which is the light and life of all who hear it. Take heed how ye hear ;—
Upon the how depends the what. Listen for God's vcice in Christ ; listen with meek-
ness, with sincerity of purpose, with practical designs to do as you gain in knowledge,
and you shall hear the voice which is full alike of majesty and mercy. Light shall
enter into your soul ; that light shall ever brighten, until all the darkness is gone,
and we find ourselves in that land of which God Himself is sun and moon. {Ibid.)
Light by obeying : — Thb incbease ojt oub spibitual light is dependent upon
THE MEASUBB OF OUE PRACTICAL FAiTHPULNEss. If WO cousider the world about us,
we discover the importance of action as a source of knowledge. Men do not expect
a fulness of light before they proceed to action ; but, with a little knowledge, they
apply themselves to action, and with action light increases and problems are solved.
And it is this testing and developing ideas by action which distinguishes between
the grand benefactors of our race, and the mere dreamers of dreams of progress.
Such men as Arkwright, Watt, Stephenson, applied their knowledge ; ever verified*
corrected, developed it by actual experiment and use, and so became light-centres to
their own and after generations. Action kept pace with speculation in these great
discoverers, and so they pushed out the borders of science, and enriched society
with a thousand blessings ; whilst men of large speculation and little or no action
pass away, their splendid dreamings being as barren as splendid. The world of
knowledge has become wider, clearer, richer beyond all precedent, in these modem
times, because men have learned that knowledge must be appUed if it is to be in-
creased. And this is the order in the moral universe. The Scriptures associate
knowledge with action (Col. i 9, 10 ; Psa. xxxiv. 8 ; Prov. i. 7 ; John vii. ITJ.
The examples of Scripture are to the same effect. Men acted on the little
light they had and received more (Acts xviii. 24-28). Observe: 1. It is only
through obedience that we get knowledge. It is only in obedience that light passes
into Imowledge ; otherwise our Ught is opinion, imagination, speculation, sentiment.
In action — perception, contemplation, speculation — become that real, solid, in-
fluential treasure we call knowledge. Any one can easily realize the truth of this
who passes from the circle of speculative and controversial writers to listen to the
confessions of the members of the Christian Church. In the merely literary world
what universal uncertainty I Philosophers and speculative theologians are as men
"who beat the air." It is cloudland, and any breath of wind changes the entire
aspect of the misty imagery ; there is no fixity, no solidity, no assurance. Listen
to the sincere, earnest, practical members of the Church, and they speak that which
" they do know." There is a definitiveness, depth, certainty, and power in their
convictions. " I know that my Redeemer liveth," &c. •• I know in whom I have
beUeved, and am persuaded," &c. *' One thing I know, that whereas I was bUnd,
now I see." " We know that if this earthly house of our tabernacle were dis-
solved," &c. This depth, and fulness, and blessedness of persuasion can only be
realized through obedience. Do, and you shall know. 2. It is only through
obedience that we retain knowledge. Not to act out what we know is to lose it, aa
men forget a language they cease to speak. The Apostle recognizes this: **0I
whom we have many things to say, and hard to be uttered (to be comprehended),
BSAP. IV.] ST. MARK, 141
seeing ye are (have become^ dull of hearing." They were deficient in quickness of
spiritual apprehenfiion, and lost their hold upon high spiritual truth, and this was
the result of their backsliding life. We hold the light on the condition of using it ;
and neglecting to use it, the " light within us becomes darkness," and of all dark-
ness that darkness is the most intense and hopeless. 3. It is only through obe-
dience that we increase spiritual knowledge. The dawn of truth will pass to the
noon, only whilst we do the work God gives us to do. Do you wish to comprehend
more clearly the love of God in dying for men ? You will not gain the light you
covet by merely studying the various theories of the Atonement. Believe in God'a
love as declared in the cross ; imitate the principle in your own life, and you " ihall
comprehend with all saints the length, and breadth, and depth, and height, and
know the love of God which passeth knowledge." Do you wish for more light on
the question of the Divine element in the Scriptures? Commune with their
doctrines in your heart, act out their precepts, and you shall find what you seek
better than by reading a thousand philosophical treatises on inspiration. Do you
wish to understand more fully the essential nature of morality ? Be moral. Be
truthful, honest, just, pure, and your practical goodness wUl shed most light
on the true theory of virtue. {Ibid.) Light by Evangelizing: — Some of
the old philosophers taught that from the earth continually ascended invisible
exhalations, and these vapours, they affirmed, fed the sun and stars, and kept them
ever bright and burning. According to this theory, what the earth gave to the sky,
the sky gave back again to the earth in light and beauty. Wrong in science, but a
beautiful parable of the law of life — ^what we give to the world around us comes
back to our own bosom again in sevenfold brightness and preciousness. To this
law Christ refers in the text : •• Give, and it shall be given unto you again." Ac-
cording to your bounty in communicating light shall be the measure of light shed
on your own path. Teach, instruct, give forth illumination, and as you do so your
own brain shall be the clearer, your own knowledge the more full and certain.
Light comes through evangelistic work. Evangelistic work is necessary — I. To thb
PBBSEBVATioN OF THE TBDTH. If WO do uot communicato the light we lose it. If
we seek to keep the truth to ourselves we lose our perception of it, our hold upon it
—our candle goes out in the confined air. Thus Moses to Israel : " Only take heed
to thyself, and keep thy soul diligently, lest thou forget the things which thine eyes
have seen, and lest they depart from thy heart all the days of thy life ; but teach
them thy sons, and thy son's sons" (Deut. iv. 9). If you are not to forget — if
you are not to lose the truth — ^you must teach it. Truth unspoken " spoils, like
bales unopened to the sun." To seek light in intellectual pursuits to the neglect of
evangelistic work is to commit a vital error. The Church needs thinkers and
scholars, but it needs, with a more imperative necessity, preachers, teachers,
visitors, missionaries, otherwise the intellectualists would soon ruin it. A merely
speculative, literary, philosophizing Church would soon lose the truth as it is in
Jesus, and substitute the unsubstantial and fantastic shapes of dreamland. If a
Church thinks and works, it shall be well with it ; its actions shall correct and
chasten its thinking, and thus it shall be saved from rationalism on the one side,
and mysticism on the other. Unduly exalt intellectual work, and the Church is
forthwith afflicted with all kinds of theological vagaries ; give the first and largest
place to the practical work of saving the souls of men in the field of the world, and
the pure gospel shall be conserved, a light and a salvation. We only keep the
light whilst we spread it, and this is true alike of Churches and of individuals.
Evangelistic work is necessary — II. To thk bbalization of the tbuth. In active
service the truth is defined and realized. Earnestly striving to save the souls of
men, the haziness of mere opinion passes into well-defined and strongly-held know-
ledge and conviction. Some scientific men say that the sun is a dark body, and
that it is only when its dark radiations touch our atmosphere that it realizes
itself — only then that it flashes out a globe of glory, only then that its beams
become luminous and vital. So it is when the thinker leaves his solitude and
speculation, and comes into contact with society, seeking to profit andrbless, that
his knowledge realizes itself, that it becomes defined, and bright, and vital.
A working Church knows, as no merely literary Church can know. A working
Christian knows as no mere idealist can know. The ** full assurance'* for which
we cry, comes through the constant application of gospel truth to the world's
wants and woes, through constantly beholding the practical triumphs of the gospel
in the hearts, lives, and homes of the people. Livingstone having recorded in his
diary how vividly and powerfully he had recognized some commonplace truth, the
160 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap, it,
editor of his ♦• Last Journals " justly observes : ♦* Men, in the midst of their hard,
earnest toil, perceive great truths with a sharpness of outline and a depth of con.
viction which is denied to the mere idle theorist." Evangelistic work is necessary—
ni. To THE DKVEiiOPMENT OF THE TRUTH. Working for God in the salvation of
men, we shall see the truth more clearly, and further discoveries of it shall be
granted. Luther, speaking of the truth, declared that he would not "have the
eagle put in a sack." And ever since he gave freedom to the truth, and insisted on
its being freely and fully enforced the world over, the ♦• Eagle " has spread a more
majestic wing, its golden feathers have shone with a rarer glory, and its eye has
kindled into a subUmer fire. The truth spoken, enforced, has grown. More light
hai shone from God's holy Word. If we wish to know more we must teach more,
work more. The men who gave us the Epistles were not students, but workers and
preachers, and light came from their work as the wheel kindles as it turns. Our
missionaries teach the same lesson. What hght they have poured on many great
and obscure questions 1 The missionaries diffusing the light, working to compasa
the salvation of men, have poured far more light on a score dark problems than
they could possibly have done had they remained to ponder in studies and cloisters.
Teaching the pagan, we have in turn been taught. The light we communicated to
them comes back to us as from a poHshed reflector. ** We are debtors both to the
wise and the unwise, to the Greek and to the barbarian." There are abounding proofs
that love to others, leading us to instruct and serve them, is a precious but much
neglected source of illumination. A heart full of pure and practical charity is the
east window in the temple of human life, whilst dim and uncertain is the light
which filters through a cold and selfish brain. You will not find truth through
thinking for thinking's sake ; nay, you will not find truth through seeking for it
directly. Truth, like happiness, is '• found of them that seek it not " directly and
selfishly, but who find it, when scarcely thinking of it, in the paths of charity and
duty. Stirred by a glorious discontent we seek to know more, and ever more.
Plants turn toward the light, and stretch their branches to reach it ; the migration
of birds, naturalists tell us, is the result of an intense longing for the light. And
so the same instinct, in its highest manifestation, works in man, and he yearns
towards the '* Day-spring." Hear, with a true heart ; do, with a sincere and loyal
heart ; give, with a loving heart as you have freely received ; and the ** light of
the moon shall be as the light of the sun, and the light of the sun shall be seven,
fold, as the light of seven days." {Ibid.) Hearing but not heeding : — What care
I to see a man run after a sermon, if he cozens and cheats as soon as he comes
home 7 {John Selden.) Heart-memory needed : — A heart-memory is better than
a head-memory. It were better to carry away a little of the life of God in our
souls, than if we were able to repeat every word of every sermon we ever heard.
(De Sales.) Attention given more to worldly than spiritual things : — ^Alas, the
place of hearing is the place of sleeping with many a fine professor 1 I have often
observed that those who keep shops can briskly attend upon a twopenny customer,
bat when they come themselves to God's market, they spend their time too much
in letting their thoughts wander from God's commandments, or in a nasty, drowsy
way. The head, also, and heart of most hearers are to the Word as the sieve is to
water ; they can hold no sermons, remember no texts, bring home no proof, produce
none of the sermon to the edification and profit of others. {John Bunyan.)
Eclectic hearers : — Some can be content to hear all pleasant things, as the promises
and mercies of God, but judgments and reproofs, threats and checks, these they
cannot brook ; like unto those who, in medicine, care only for a pleasant smell or
appearance in the remedy, as pills rolled in gold, but have no regard for the elfioacy
of the physic. Some can willingly hear that which concerns other men and their
sins, their lives and manners, but nothing touching themselves or their own sins ;
as men can willingly abide to hear of other men's deaths, but cannot abide to think
of their own. {R. Stock.) Whom to hear: — Ebenezer Blackwell was a rich
banker, a zealous Methodist, and a great friend of the Wesleys. " Are you going to
hear Mr. Wesley preach ? " he was asked one day. ♦• No," he replied, " I am going to
hear God ; I listen to Him, whoever preaches ; otherwise I lose all my labour. " Take
heed what ye hear : — I. Faith cometh bt heabh^q. This means — 1. Faith comes
from knowledge, i.e., there can be no faith without knowledge. *• How shall they
believe in Him of whom they have not heard?" 2. It means that the living
preacher, as opposed to mere instruction out of books, is the great means of pro-
ducing faith. This does not mean (1) That God does not employ His written
Word, (fee ; (2) Nor that the proclamation of the gospel is the only method ol
CHAP, rvj ST. MARK. 161
making the gospel heard, and thus of producing faith. 3. It means that the in-
struction by the ear, as coming from a living preacher, is the ordinary method of
salvation. Proof from Scripture and experience. II. Wht is heabino ob thx
LiviNO PREACHER NECESSARY ? Why may not books and Bibles answer for the con-
version of men ? 1. The sufficient answer to the question is the Divine appoint-
ment. 2. Because from the constitution of our nature, what is addressed to the
ear has more power in arousing attention, in producing conviction, and exciting
feeling, than what is addressed to the eye. 3. There is a law of propagation of
Divine life analogous to the propagation of vegetable and animal life. So in the
Church it is the general law that the spiritual life is communicated through and by
living members of the Church. III. Two inferences flow from this truth.
1. That we should hear for ourselves, and cause others to hear, the gospel, not
being content in either case with books, to the neglect of the living teacher,
2. That we should be careful what we hear and how we hear. (1) The object ef
hearing, viz., salvation, spiritual edification must be kept in view, and be our
governing motive, not pleasure, not criticism. (2) The mind must be prepared for
the reception of the truth. The Scripture tells us how (1 Peter it 1 ; James i. 21).
This with prayer includes our duty as to hearing. With this will be connected
laying the truth up in our hearts, and practising it in our lives. {C. Hodge^ D.D.)
Ver. 25. For he that hath, to him shall be given, — The law of increase: — The
good use of knowledge and grace draws down more : the ill use leads to blindness
and hardness of heart. The one is an effect of grace itself ; the other, an effect of
a depraved will. A faithful soul has a great treasure. The riches which it heaps
up have scarce any bounds, because it puts none to its fidelity. A base and slothful
soul grows poorer every day, until it is stripped of all. Who can tell the pro-
digious stock which is acquired by an evangelical labourer, a zealous missionary,
who crosses the seas on purpose to seek souls whom he may convert, and is intent
on nothing but the salvation of sinners 1 The greater his grace is, the more it
increases by labour. O how happy and holy is this usury of a faithful soull
{Quesnel.) *^ Having'* helps the '^getting'*: — Having one language helps the
gaining of another. Having mathematics helps the getting of science. Capital
tends to gather more wealth. " Nothing succeeds like success." One victory leads
the way to another. The knowledge of one truth ever opens the mind for percep-
tion of another. Grace to do one good act opens the heart to admit gt&ce to do
another. If but a beginning is made, it is an immense assistance to attainment.
If converted, do not undervalue the infinite importance of the beginning thus made.
But remember, at the same time, that none can keep grace except on the condition
that he employs it. Whatever knowledge of truth, whatever feeling, whatever
power of obedience you possess, you will lose unless you employ it. (iJ. Glover.)
The duty of faithfully hearing the Word of God: — What ye hear heed. Not with-
out purpose our Lord spoke of hearing. All success on the part of the teacher
depends upon attention on the part of the hearer. Though Noah, Moses, Paul, or
even Jesus speak, no benefit to careless hearer. Whoso has a great truth to impart
has a right to claim a hearing — how much more He who is the Truth. Consider —
1. The ESPEciAii evils against which men btcst guard in hearing the word ark
THREE : — 1. Losing the Word before faith has made it fruitful (Luke viii. 11). The
peril is, it may be lost before it is fruitful. (1) It may be taken out of the heart.
2. A merely temporary faith. 3. Fruitlessness of Word through cares, deceit of
riches, lust of other things (vers. 18, 19 ; Luke viii. 14). II. The reward of faith-
ful HEARING (vers. 20-25 ; Luke viii. 15). The lot of the seed describes the lot cf
him who receives it. " Let him that hath " — as the fruit of his using — this his
own increase ; " shall more be given " — this the Lord's increase (cf. parable of
talents). Every attainment of truth a condition of meetness to gain other and
deeper truth. So in all study and acquisition. Truth grows to its *• perfection "
in the " good " " honest." III. Condemnation of him who heareth not to profit.
•• Him that hath not " — ^hath nothing more than was first given to him. From
him shall even that be taken. Any one can " have " what is given ; only the
diligent have more. 1. The condemnation assumes the form of a removal of truth
(Matt. xiii. 13-15). It is naturally forgotten by him who does not use his under-
standing upon it. Disregarded truth (and duty) becomes disliked truth. 2. In
carelessness he puts it away from him. His measure is small ; he metes it to
himself. The eye not trained to see beauties and harmonies of form fails to see
them : so the ear music, and the hand skilfulness. 3. To hear is a duty ; Ic
162 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. if.
neglect duty brings God's condemnation. 4. He who does not receive the kingdom
of heaven is ipso facto in the kingdom of evil. Continued deiDartares from truth
and duty leave the man farther from God, truth, heaven. 5. All truth is in
parables. History the parable of Providence. Ordinances the parables of grace.
The attentive see not only the parable, but the '• things " also ; the inattentive see
only the parable, not the •' tilings " (John x. 6). 6. Even Christ and His work and
His gospel may be mere parables, outward things. Men seeing see not, their hearts
being gross, their ears dull of hearing, and their ej'es closed. We see — 1. The ter-
rible and to be dreaded consequence of not heeding the Word : it becomes a parable, a
dark saying, a riddle. 2. But the mercifulness of Him who would hide tnith in a
beautiful parable, to tempt if possible the careless to inquire, that they may be saved.
{Studies.) The law and the gospel : — The tendency of gifts, powers, possessions to
accmnulate in some hands and dwindle in others is a common fact of observation.
And it often appears, too, that when accumulation begms it goes on by a momentum
of its own ; that the farther it goes the faster it goes ; and on the other hand that
losses follow the same law ; disaster breeds disaster, and misfortune multiplies by a
geometrical law. I. We bee the workings of this law in the conditions of oub
PHisiCAL LIVES. Health and vigour have a tendency to increase. The food we eat
builds up the body ; active exercise confirms its strength ; the cold increases its power
of endurance; the summer heat nourishes its vitality. Nature brings constant
revenues to the healthy man ; all things work together for his good. On the other
hand disease and physical feebleness have a tendency to increase. The food that
ought to nourish the system irritates and oppresses it ; exertion brings to the body
fatigue and enervation ; cold benumbs it ; heat debilitates it ; nature seems to be
the foe of feebleness ; all things work together to prevent the recovery of health
when once it is lost ; often it is only by the greatest vigilance and patience that it
can be regained. II. The law that we are considerino is fulfilled in thb
FACTS OF THE SOCIAL ORDER. The man who has station or influence or wealth or
reputation finds the current flowing in his favour ; the man who has none of these
things soon learns that he must stem the current. Popularity always follows thia
law. It is often remarkable how small a saying will awaken the enthusiasm of the
crowd when spoken by a man who is a recognized favourite .• and how many great
and wise utterances fail of producing any effect whatever when he who speaks Qiem
is comparatively unknown. It is almost impossible for one who has gained the
reputation of being a wit to say anything at which his auditory will not laugh. Hia
most sober and commonplace speeches will often be greeted as great witticisms. Oa
the other hand the purest wit and the choicest humour, if it happen to fall from the
lips of a plain, matter-of-fact individual, will often be received with funereal
gravity by all who hear it. Men are apt to bestow their help as well as their
applause most freely on those who need it least. Those who have gifts to bestow often
give them to those who do not want them, passing by those who are suffering for
the lack of them. "The destruction of the poor," the wise man says, "is hia
poverty." Because he is poor he cannot get the credit, the privilege, the favour
that he could get|;if he were rich. The narrowness of his resources cramps him. The
church that has the rich people is likely to attract the rich people ; the weak
churches are often left to their own destruction, while those that are strong financi-
ally are strengthened by constant accessions. What is this law that we are study-
ing r It is nothing else than what some philosophers call the law of natural selec-
tion— the law of the survival of the fittest ; that is, in most cases, the strongest.
When a tree is cut down in the forest a number of sprouts frequently spring up
from the stump, and these grow together for a while until they begin to crowd one
another. There is not room for a dozen trees on the ground where one tree stood ;
there is only room for one. But it is generally the case that one of these shoots
growing from the root of the old tree is a little larger than the rest, and this one
gradually overshadows the rest, takes from the air and the light more nourishment
than they can get — takes that which belongs to them, so that they dwindle and die
beneath its shadow while its roots reach out for a firmer footing in the soil and its
branches stretch forth with loftier pride and ampler shade. Nature selects the
strongest shoot for preservation, and destroys the others that it may live. We know
that man adopts this method of selection in all his agricultural operations ; in the
corn-field and in the fruit nursery it is the likeliest growths that are choseu and
cultivated ; the others are weeded out to make room for them. But some of you are
asking, " Is this law of natural selection God's law ? " To this question there is but
one answer. If the law of natural selection ia the law of nature, then it is God's
CHAP. IT.] ST, MARK, 15S
law. This law of natural Belection is a natural law, and not a moral law. We
speak of it as a law in the sense in which we speak of the law of heredity, or the
law of gravitation, or the law of supply aud demand. This law is announced by Christ
but it is not enjoined by Him. •• This," He says, •• is the way things are : this ig
the course things uniformly take." This law of natural selection is a law of nature,
ordained by God. It is the law under which rewards and penalties are adminis>
tered ; it is a retributive law, for the sanctions of the moral law are found in the
natural order. But some of you are protesting that this cannot be true. " How is
it," you ask, " that the natural law of the survival of the strongest tends to the
rewarding of the good or the punishing of the bad ? By this law it is the strong,
rather than the good that are rewarded. It is to those that have, rather than to
those that deserve, that abundance is given." True ; but this is only an illustra-
tration of the fact that a dispensation of law always works hardship. Law makes
nothing perfect; it hurts some that need help and it helps some that do not
deserve it. Law must be uniform and inflexible ; it cannot adapt itself to differing
conditions and abilities. Gravitation is a good law, but it kills thousands of inno>
cent people every year. Yet it would not do to have it less uniform and inflexible
than it is. The universe is built on the basis of universal righteousness and
health : its laws are all adapted to that condition of things, and they ought to be.
If all men were good and wise and strong, then this law would only tend to increase
the virtue and the wisdom and the vigour of all men. It would be seen, then,
that this is a good law. But sin has entered to enfeeble and deprave many, and
the result is that the law which ought to be a savour of life unto life to them
becomes a savour of death nnto death. The same' forces that ought to build
them up tend to destroy them. So it often is that when the law enters offences
abound, and hardships are suffered ; under its severe and inflexible rule more ia
given to those who have abundance already, while those who have but little
are stripped of what they have. Thus we see that the natural law, which is the
instrument of retribution, inflicts suffering and loss not only upon the sinful, but
upon the weak, the unfortunate, the helpless ; upon those who have fallen behind
in the race of life. That is the way the law works. But remember also that thert
is something better and diviner than law in the tidings that He has brought us.
What the law could not do He came to do. It was for the deliverance and the
relief of those who are being pushed to the wall by the operation of these retribu-
tive forces that He came. His life proves this. He did not fall into that social
order that we have seen prevailing. He did not bestow His praise upon the famous,
cor His friendship on the popular, nor His benefactions on the rich. His words of
applause greeted the saints who in obscurity tried to live virtuously ; He was the
Friend of publicans and sinners ; He was the constant helper of the poor. It was
not to those who had abundance that He gave, but to those who had nothing.
•* They that be whole," He says, " need not a physician, but they that are sick. I
came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance." Nature is against them ;
their own natures are infirm and corrupt ; their appetites entice them ; their selfish
desires mislead them ; but He assures them that by faith in Him they may be
made partakers of the Divine nature, and thus be reinforced and invigorated for
conflict with the eviL And, mark you, in doing all this He does not destroy but
fulfils the law. And what Christ does ia to give the real good of life, the moral
strength and soundness which are the source of all life's real good, to those who
have nothing — who are so reduced in moral vigour that they are practically
destitute ; to restore to them that which they have lost, so that they shall have ;
and then this law is a minister of good to them as God meant it to be to all. Here
is a vine that has fallen from its trellis, and that is being choked by the weeds that
have overgrown it, as it lies prostrate on the earth. The law of nature, the law of
vegetable growth, is only operating to destroy it so long as it remains in this con-
dition ; for the sun and the showers nourish the weeds, and they overshadow the
vine more and more, preventing its growth, and drawing away the strength from
the soil. But the gardener lifts up the vine and fastens it to the trellis, and pulls
up the weeds that are stealing its nutriment, and than the laws of nature promote
the growth of the vine ; the same laws under which its life was being destroyed
now confirm its hfe and increase its growth. Some such service as this Christ
renders to all those who are morally weak and helpless ; by the communication to
them of His own life He lifts them out of their helplessness into a condition in
which all things that were working together against them shall work together for
their good. It will be well for us all to remember that if we are Christians, we are
154 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. it.
co-workers with Christ, and that our business, therefore, is not to add force to the
law whose severities bear so heavily upon many of our fellow-men, but to counter-
act the severities of the law by ministries of sympathy and tenderness and help.
{W. Gladden.) Addition easy : — And it is always easier to get the addition than
it was to get the unit. When the current is fairly turned in our direction, the
stream keeps running. It has been said that it is harder for a man to get his first
thousand dollars, than any subsequent thousand. The more wealth a man ban,
the easier it is for him to increase it. So of knowledge ; so of influence ; so c(
affection. So also of spiritual gifts.
Vers. 26, 29. So is the kingdom of God, as if a man should cast seed Intc
the ground. — The religion of Christ : — I. The religion of Christ is a eeign. It ia
not a creed, or a sentiment, or a ritualism, but a regal force, a power that holds
sway over intellect, heart, and will. As a reign ft is — 1. Spiritual. Its throne ia
within. 2. Free. 3. Constant. II. It is a Divine reign. This is proved by — 1.
Its congruity with human nature. It accords with reason, conscience, and the
profoundest cravings of the soul. 2. Its influence on human life. It makes men
righteous, loving, peaceful, godUke. III. It is a growing reign. It grows in the
individual soul, and in the increase of its subjects. 1. This growth is silent. It
does not advance as the reign of human monarchs, by noise and bluster, by social
convulsion and bloody wars. It works in the mind and spreads through society,
silent as the distilling dew or the morning beam. 2. Gradual. 3. Secret. IV.
Christ's religion may be promoted bt human agency. Whilst man cannot in nature
create the crop, no crop would come without his agency ; so Christ has left the
extension of His religion to depend in some measure on man. V. Human effort ia
founded on confidence in Divine laws. (D. Thamas^ D.D.) The kingdom in the
heart : — I. The first lesson taught us here is, that progress in personal religion ia
TiTAii and not mechanicaii (Mark iv. 26). 1. The " seed *' contains in itself the
germ of all the future growth. Hence, all expectation must actually begin and
end with the grain which is sown. If the initial impartationof Divine grace in the
truth through the Holy Ghost be not received, it will do no good whatsoever to
watch and hope and encourage ourselves. {See John vi. 65.) 2. The " ground "
develops the germ. The human life and experience which the seed falls into haa
to be prepared, and, of course, needa to be cultivated ; then God sends His celestial
benediction of the sunshine and the showers. But the fruit " the earth bringeth
forth of herself." This union of human fidelity with Divine grace constitutes the
oo-operation with which the mysterious work goes on. We are to •' add " to our
attainments, " giving all diligence " (2 Pet. i. 6). We are to " work out " our own
salvation " with fear and trembling " (Phil. ii. 12, 13). 3. The •* man" casts the
seed. God gives it, and the germ of salvation is in what God gives. But a free-
wi^ed man must let it sink into his heart and life. There are •' means of grace ; "
haman beings must put themselves in the way of them. The first step in the
new life is displayed in the willingness to take every other step. {See 2 Cor. iii. 18,
in the New Revision.) II. Our next lesson from the figure which Christ uses is
this : progress in personal religion is constant and not spasmodic (See verses 26, 27.)
1. Observe here that the growth of the seed is continued through the *' night and
day." One little brilliant touch of imagination does great service in this picture.
The man rests ; he has done his duty. God, the unseen, is silently keeping Hia
promise. And while we rejoice in the sweet helpful sunshine, and thank Him for
ft, we ought to thank Him too for these heavy moist nights of gloom, which
surprise us often with their darkness, and then surprise us more afterwards with
the extraordinary progiess they have brought. {See Heb. xii. 11.) 2. Hence also we
observe that even hindrances help sometimes. Those are the hardiest plants which
have been oftenest shadowed ; and those are the most stable trees which have been
oftenest writhed and tossed by the blasts as they blustered around them. 3. So,
above everything else, we observe that here we are taught the necessity of trust.
No one thing in nature is more pathetically beautiful than the behaviour of certain
sensitive plants we all are acquainted with, as the nightfall approaches. They
tranquilly fold up their leaves, as if they were living beings, and now knew that
from the evening to the morning again they would have to live just by faith in the
Supreme Hand which made them. We must make up our minds that there can be
never any healthy growth which undertakes to move forward by frantic leaps or
spasms of progress. We must trust God ; and He neither dwarfs nor forces.
Hothouse shoota are proverbially feeble, and almost always it hap been found that
CHiJ. IV.] ST. MARK. 15S
conservatory oranges are the bitterest sort of fruit. III. Once more : let ua learn
from the figure which our Lord uses, that progress in personal rehgion is spibitua&
and not CONSPICUOUS. The seed grows, but the man "knows not how.'* 1. Th«
man cannot possibly " know bow." Our Saviour, in another place, gives the full
reason for that (Luke xvii. 20, 21). When He declares "the kingdom of God
Cometh not with observation," He adds at once His sufficient explanation; "for,
behold, the kingdom of God is within yon." We are unable to become in any case
thoroughly acquainted with each other. We are often mistaken about ourselves.
The most we can hope to understand is to be found in grand results, and not in the
processes. 2. The man does not need to " know how." He needs only to keep
growing, and all will be right in the end. Christians are not called knowers, bat
"beUevers." The old promise is that •* the righteous shall flourish like the palm-
tree." And the singularity of the palm-tree is that it is an inside grower; it ii
always adding its woody layers underneath the bark, and enlarging itself from the
centre out of sight. Botanically speaking, man is "endogenous." Our best
attainments, like Moses' shining face, are always gained nnconsciously, and others
see them first. 3. Many men make mistakes in trying to 'know how." The
religious life of a genuine Christian cannot be dealt with from the outside
without injury. It is harmed when we attempt to make it showy. You will kill
the strongest trees if you seek to keep them varnished. All penances and
pilgrimages, all mere rituals and rubrics, all legislations and reforms, are as
powerless to save the soul as bo many carvings and statues and cornices on the
exterior of a house would be to give health to a sick man within. Time is wasted
in efforts to help men savingly in any other way than by teaching them to " grow
np in all things into Christ, which is the head " (Eph. iv. 14-16). IV. Let as
learn, in the fourth place, from the figure our Lord uses, that progress in personal
religion is natural and not abtistio. {See ver. 28.) 1. Our Lord Himself was
entirely unconventional. 2. Hence, a conventional religion cannot be Christian.
For it is not possible that " a man in Christ " should be artistic. Fancy forms of
devoteeism are simply grotesque. 8. The " beauty of holiness " will not stand
much millinery of adornment. Naturalness is the first element of loveliness. 4.
Meantime, let as remember that all Christ seems to desire of His followers is just
themselves. Timothy was not set to find some extraordinary attainment, but to
" stir up the gift " which was ** in him." Jesus praised the misjudged woman
because she had " done what she could." V. Finally, we may learn from the
figure which oar Lord uses, that progress in personal religion is oabnebed at last,
and not lost. {See ver. 29.) 1. The "fruit " is what is wanted. And the gains of the
growth are all conserved in the fruit. Growth is for the sake of more fruit. Some
might say, " The seed that we cast into the ground is quite lost." No ; the seed
will be found inside of every fruit. Others might say, " The increase in size and
strength is certainly all lost." No ; the increase is ten or a hundred-fold inside of
the fruit There is a whole field-full of living germs in the matured fruit of each
honest life for God. 2. The " harvest " fixes the final date of the ingathering.
There does not appear to be anything like caprice in God's plan. " He hath made
everything beautiful in His time." And in the harvest- time, surely, the fields
of ripened grain are loveliest. 3. For it is the ripeness of the fruit which
announces the harvest. That must be the force here of the fine and welcome word
" immediately." When the believer is ready to go to his home, the Lord is ready to
receive him. (C. S. Robinson.) God's work in tlie kingdom: — I. In its bk-
GiNNiNOS. God permits us to co-operate with Him ; but the gre»vt work is His. We
learn the truth by prayer, and study, and obedience. We make it known. He
gives its life. As the farmer can only sow the seed he has obtained, and must
depend on the life within it, and the earth which briugs forth fruit of herself, so we
can only make known the truth we have received, and must trust entirely to God to
make it effective. II. In its gbowth. God advances this new life according to its
own laws. We need not be impatient, nor attempt to force unnatural growth, nor
dig it up to see if it is growing. But we must make the utmost of our own powers
to aid those that are beyond us. As it requires a whole man to make a successful
farmer, so all the energies of character, study, and devotion are needed to make a
successful sower of the seed of the kingdom. IIL In its perfection. There is a
harvest-time. God completes the work He has begun in each soul ; but He has
made us so interdependent that its completion calls for our watchful activity. We
are not responsible for the laws of spiritual growth ; but we are commanded to be
at hand to watch the blade as it appears, to welcome the ear and the full frait
166 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. iv.
(A. E. Dunning.) Human agency likened to a growing plant : — I. Man's know,
ledge and power, in matter and in mind, are small, yet requisite. II. Natural
powers are made to do muoh for bim, but secretly and slowly. III. He bas to
wait in patience, and then to take possession. {J. H. Godwin.) The growth oj
the spiritual life : — I. Spibixuaii goodness is a obowth. It springs and grows up.
Cut tbe stone and carve it, so it remains ; cut the tree, lop o£F its branches, and
then it wiU sprout. Man can impart motion, and make automata, but he cannot
give life. The test of real life is growth. U. Spiritual goodness is an independent
GROWTH. Not a hot-house plant. Needs no petting. Ministers need not tormen
themselves about the issue of the work : God gives the increase. III. Spiritua
goodness is a uystebious gbowth. The law of development is hidden, though rea
IV. Spiritual goodness is a constant growth. Our souls do not rest. Y. Spirita
goodness is a PBOORESsrvE growth. The blade is the mark of tenderness ; the ea
is the mark of full vigour ; the full com in the ear is the mark of maturity. (F. W
Robertson, M.A.) The power of growth inherent in things divine : — ^The hua
bandman has only two functions with regard to the seed — to sow it, and to reap
All the rest the seed can manage for itself. So in spiritual things, we need only
take care that we sow good seed — seed of truth, seed of good example, seed of
loving sympathy. We need not too curiously inquire as to the exact attitude of the
hearts on which we scatter the seed, nor ask every hour as to the appreciation
which the seed receives, nor use a microscope to measure its daily growth, nor
keep piling on the simple seed undue efforts to secure its fruitfulness. {R. Glover.)
The seed growing mysteriously : — Eemarkable correspondence between history of
Ghnich and spiritual life of individual Christians. Consider in this connection : L
Tbb growth and fbuitfulness of the Divinb Wobd in the entire HISTOBT 01
THE Chuboh. 1. The certain growth of the truth through this dispensation.
Christianity is always spreading. 2. The orderly development of the truth.
Providence continually brings into view long-hidden meanings and applications of
the gospel. 3. The mystery of the gospel's extension and development. Even the
wisest are far from understanding the true reason and mode of its growth. 11.
The gbowth and fbuitfulnesb of the Divine Word in iNDivmuAL lives. 1.
They who hear the gospel should consider the consequences of their conduct in
relation to it. The honest reception of it is the beginning of a life of holy fruitful-
ness to the glory of God. The rejection involves a state worse than barrenness.
2. This parable should teach cheerful confidence to all who sow the good seed —
ministers, teachers — all who speak a word for Christ. The result is beyond their
power or knowledge, but it is sure. 3. It should produce joy in all Christian hearts
by the prospect which it opens. The glorious issue of each Christian life. The
blessed consummation of the world's history. The final rejoicing of all who
labour in the gospel. Above all, the harvest-gladness of the Lord. (E. Heath.)
The kingdoms of grace and glory: — These two kingdoms differ not specifically, but
gradually ; they differ not in nature, but only in degree. The kingdom of grace is
nothing but the inchoation or beginning of the kingdom of glory ; the kingdom of
grace is glory in the seed, and the kingdom of glory is grace in the flower ; the
kingdom of grace is glory in the daybreak, and the kingdom of glory is grace in the
full meridian ; the kingdom of grace is glory militant, and the kingdom of glory is
grace triumphant. There is such an inseparable connection between these two
kingdoms, that there is no passing into the one but by the other. At Athens there
were two temples — a temple of virtue and a temple of honour ; and there was no
going into the temple of honour but through the temple of virtue. So the kingdoms
of grace and glory are so joined together, that we cannot go into the kingdom of glory
but through &e kingdom of grace. Many people aspire after the kingdom of glory, but
never look after grace; but these two, which God hath joined together, may not be
put asunder. The kingdom of grace leads to the kingdom of glory. {T. Watson.)
The seed in the heart : — The ascendency and growth of true religion. 1. External
agencies. We are not passive and powerless recipients of heavenly influences ; we
are required to use diligently all the appliances of the husbandman, leaving the rest
to Him who disposes all things. The eye of God marks what becomes of each
grain of seed : how one lies disregarded on the surface of the worldly heart, and
another sinks no deeper tiian the first stratum of fitful impulse piety ; how the
yonng choke the seed with pleasures, the middle-aged destroy it with worldly
ambitions, and the old stifle it with corroding cares ; yet, dead as this seed may
■eem, it springeth up, ay, and will spring up in another world, if not in this, and
bMr its testimony against all who neglect or despise the message of God. 2. The
CHAP. IT.] ST. MARK. 167
invisible methods of its succeeding processes. There is no discovering of the subtle
law, by which the preaching of the self-same Word becomes powerless here, and
effectual there. An unperceived influence is brought to bear on a man's heart,
constraining but not compelling him, causing principles and desires and feelings to
spring up •' he knows not how." It is for him to yield to this influence. 3. The
certain progressiveness of true religion. No standing still. All religion is a
spreading and an advancing thing. God leads on the converted soul step by step ;
He restores the features of our lost spiritual image little by little ; He destroys the
dominant passions of the old man one by one ; and so leads us on from strength to
strength, till in the perfect righteousness of Ghtist we appear before Him in Zion.
To continue babes in Christ, would be like saying that we have the leaven of God
within us, and yet that it is not affecting the surrounding mass ; that the fire of God
is within our hearts, without burning up the dross and stubble ; that, aged trees aa
we are, we put forth nothing but the tender shoot, and patriarchs as we should be
in spiritual things, we are but as infants of a day old. 4. The end: the final
gathering of the ripe sheaves into the garner of life. Here our progress may be
slow; there is an infinitude of holy attainment beyond. {Daniel Moore, M.A.)
The $ouVs restoration is gradual : — It is one of the severest trials of our faith, to go
on day after day in the same struggle against sin and self ; and it is a sore tempta-
tion to many — because they do not see any striking proofs of restoration, any rapid
grovrth in grace, any marked progress in the heavenward journey — to doubt whether
progress has been made. It is Satan who makes this suggestion to them, to daunt
and to destroy ; but it is a lie which can deceive those only who forget or distrust
their God. The farmer who goes every day to his fields, though he knows that in
due season he shall reap, does not notice the development which is going on in his
wheat ; but they who pass by at longer intervals observe and admire. It is so witk
the tme Christian: he does not see his character change, the kingdom of God
cometh not with observation unto him ; but, slowly and surely, silently ai the sap
rises in the trees, as the leaves unroll and the blossom bursts, and lo 1 the fruit is
there ; so goes on the restoration of grace — ^imperceptibly, as the light will soon
fade into darkness, or rather, as the morning shineth more and more ante the
perfect day. A soid can no more be restored and sanctified for heaven at once, than
a tree can bear fmit without the blossom, or a church be restored without cost and
toil. Only they who learn to labour and to wait, will have wages from the Lord of
the vineyard, when the even of the world is come, and to him that overcometh He
shall give the beautiful crown. (S. R, Hole, M.A.) The patience of hope : — I.
Do not worry yourself about the growth of grace in others. Do not press too hardly
lor evidence of growth in your children. Confine your care to the seed you sow,
and, calm and hopeful, leave the rest to God. II. Be not too anxious about the work
of grace in your own soul. It grows like the com ; like the com yon cannot see it
growing. Take care of your action, and your nature will take care of itself.
Harbour no thoughts of despair. III. Be patient with yourself. Plants that are
meant to live long grow slowly. A mushroom grows swiftly, and passes away
swiftly. The oak grows slow to stand long. Grace is meant to live for ever, and
grows, therefore, slowly. Each good act helps it a little, but you cannot trace the
help. If God has patience with you, have patience with yourself ; and make not
your grace less by worrying because it is not more. {R. Glover.) Spiritual
growth : — In form and imagery this parable is exquisitely simple ; in principle and
meaning it is very profound. To be able to put great tmths in simple language is a
note of true power. Christ was a master of this art. His disciples do not seem to
have ever attempted it. The parable was too Divine a thing for them to touch.
The idea in this parable is distinct and beantifuL The seed once sown, growB
according to its own nature ; it has life in itself; and when once fairly deposited in
congenial soil, and subjected to the quickening influences of heavenly sunshine and
shower, it silently and mysteriously develops the life that is in it, according to the
ordinary principles of growth. It has an inherent vitality, a growth-power, which
springs up ♦• we know not how ; " we only see that it grows. The brown clod of the
field is first tinged with virgin green ; then covered as with a carpet ; then waves,
in yielding beauty to the wind, like a summer sea, and rustles in ripening music,
like a forest. So is the kingdom of God ; the field of the heart, the field of the
world, are thus covered with gracious frait. I. This orkat law of spiRixuAii
GROWTH IS NOT ALWAYS RKCOONIZEI), NOR ARE MEN ALWAYS CONTENTED WITH IT.
We are eager for quick results ; we have not the patience to wait for the slow
development from seed to fruit. II. But this is God's plan in all things. Ht
158 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOU. [chap. iv.
produces nothing by great leaps and transitions ; all His great works are quiet
processes. Light and darkness melt into each other ; the seasons change by
gradual transition ; all life, vegetable and animal, grows from a germ ; and the
higher and nobler the type of life, the slower and more gradual is the process of
growtli. The oak attains to maturity more slowly than the flower; man than the
lower animals ; the mind than the body ; the soul tban the mind. III. Applica-
tion TO THE CHABACTER AND COURSE OF THE CHRISTIAN LIFE. 1. ItS beginning.
Only a blade, hardly to be discerned above the soil, or distinguished from common
grass. We may often confound the real beginnings of religion with ordinary
human virtues. 2. Its progress. We look for the formation of the ear, and for
the full com in the ear. A child of God, always a babe, is a deformity. 3. Its
consummation. How fruitful and beautiful it should be, not with the verdant
beauty of the blade, but with the golden beauty of the ripe com. {Henry AlUm.)
T}ie blade, the ear, the full corn : — The seed in the ground. ^ The kingdom of God,
or religion in the heart, is secret in its beginnings. This is suggested by the
parable. A man casts seed into the ground, and then leaves it to Nature — that is,
to God. Such is the silence and secrecy of the Divine life in the heart. We have
the trath of God as seed. Compared with natural or scientiflc truth (which yet we
would not disparage) it may well be called, as in one of the Psalms, " precious
seed," and the sowers of it may well go forth *♦ weeping " — i.e. with intensity of
will, with all their sensibilities stirred to the sowing of it ; and yet let them know —
it is well for us all to know — that a sower can only sow. He cannot decompose the
grain. He cannot vitalize the inward germ. He must leave the seed with God. At-
tempts are made, sometimes, in times of religious revival and excitement, to force
the living process, and even to have essential power and action in it ; to make it begin
at certain times and in certain ways ; but the success of these efforts is but smalL
Very often the result of such intrusive violence is simply this, that Nature is made
to look like grace for a little while, only to sink back into Nature again. We are only
sowers. We " cast the seed into the ground," we " sleep and rise night and day."
We go about oar customary avocations and know nothing for certain of what has
become of the seed for a time. By and by we shall know by the appearing of the
blade above the soil, by the growing and by the ripening ; but at first we know
nothing. The blade. — Not only is there secrecy at the beginning, but even after
life is begun the manifestations of it are very slender and even dubious. Life must
appear in some way, else we cannot apprehend it. We know life, not in its very
substance, but only in its attributes and fruits. The first appearance of life is
therefore a time of great interest ; we watch it as the farmer watches the blade when
it first shows above the soil. It does not then look at all like the com it ultimately
becomes. " First the blade." Take it when it is just visible above the soil — tender,
pale, hardly green as yet — and compare that with the treasures of the threshing
floor. What a difference 1 and how wonderful it seems that those should come
from that! Not only is the first appearance small and slender, but to the unskilled
eye it is very dubious and uncertain. Even so 1 The springing of the precious
seed of Divine truth out of the seoret soul into the visible life, is known at first often
by manifestations very slender and sensitive. The begun life is so feeble that you
can hardly say " It is there." A flush on the cheek or a gleam of the eye betokens
some unusual inward feeling. Something is done, or something is left undone, and
that is all 1 A Bible is kept in the room, and sometimes read in the morning or
the evening. A new walk is taken that a certain person may be met, or missed. A
letter has a sentence or two with the slightest touch of a new tone in it. Or there
is some other faint suggestion of a change of mind and view. And if one should
come with a high standard and a strict measuring line he might, of course, say, "Is
that all ? " Do you expect that to endure the conflicts and tests of life, and over-
come its difficulties ? Do you look for golden harvest only out of that ? And yet
that young, tender, trembling soul will grow in grace, and will be at last as ripe and
mellow and ready for the garner as the other. " Then the ear." — God's day of reve-
lation. Every one knows com in the ear — all dubiety is over when we look on the
ear of com. In the spike that holds the grain, as in a protective loving embrace,
we know, although we do not see it, that the corn is enfolded. And when the
spike expands with the force of vegetation, and the seeds of com appear, no one
can deny or doubt their existence. So there is a revealing or declaring time in
the spiritual life. Life, hidden beyond the proper time of manifestation, will
die. The com in the ear cannot be preserved; it must grow on, or perish.
•• The full com in the ear." — The work of grace perfected, Aa the result of the
CHAP. IV.] ST. MARK. 169
growing comes the ripening, or what is here called "the full com in the ear." How
little there is of man 1 How much of God I Man throws the seed into the ground,
as one might throw a handful of pebhles into the sea I and months afterwards he
comes, and carries away, by reaping and harvesting, thirty-fold or sixty-fold. He
throws in one and carries away thirty, as it were direct from the hand of God. It
is God who has been working during all these silent months. He never leaves the
field. Down beneath the red mould He has His laboratory. He kindles there ten
thousand invisible fires. He carries on and completes in unreckonable instances
that process of transmutation which is the most wonderful that takes place beneath
the sun. He opens in every field ten thousand times ten thousand fountains of life,
and out of these living fountains spring the visible forms, blade, and sheath, and
ear, and ripened com. And after God has been thus working, then again comes the
man, with his baskets, with his empty garners, and God fiUs them. Now the chief
lesson — the very teaching of the parable — ^is this : that the human agency is no
more in proportion and degree within the ' * kingdom of God " than it is in the field
of corn. •• So is the kingdom of God." The spiritual Ufe is as much and as con-
stantly under God's care as, in the natural world, is the field of growing com. In-
deed, we may say the spiritual life has more of His care. For, whUe the man has the
sowing and the reaping in the natural field, in the spiritual field he has the sowing
but not the reaping. " The angels are the reapers." Souls ripened for heaven are
not reaped by men on the earth. The practical uses of the great trath taught in the
parable are such as these. It teaches us a lesson of diligence. We can only sow,
therefore let us sow. A lesson of reverence. What wonders are being wrought
very near to us in silence I The Spirit of God is striving with human spirits ! A
lesson of abstinence. Having sown the seed, leave it with God. Think — " It has
passed now from my care into a more sacred department, and into far higher hands.
With Him let me leave it." Finally, a lesson of trust. (A. Raleigh^ D.D.)
The different stages in the growth of Christian life : — I. Let us attend to the
words before us, by observing briefly the stages ov Christian lifb as pbx*
BENTEO TO US BY THEM. A tMng of cveuts must have stages ; a thing of time
must also have its stages; so must all things of growth and advancement.
Christian life is a thing of events, of time, and of growth ; as such, it has its stages
of development and maturity. 1. There is the blade stage. Human life, in all its
forms, has its blade form and condition, as well as the plant. (1) It is the first ex-
pression of life to human sense. It is not the first stage of life in fact, but it is so
in appearance and visible evidence. (2) The blade is a result of some unseen power
behind what appears to sense. The blade is a production, produced by some un-
seen power of vitality outside itself as to origin and law. Clmstian life, as well as
the blade, is the result of vital power higher and apart from itself. (3) The blade
form is a stage of tendemess. As yet it is not hardened in its fibre, and consoli-
dated in its root. The smallest force can crush it, the faintest blight can destroy
it. Its slenderness may have one advantage — there is only a small quantity of the
storm that can be brought to bear upon it compared with what would be if it were
broader, taller, and more massive. (4) It is hopeful as to future prospects. As days
and nights revolve it will take deeper root, and spread its offshoots on every hand.
Its appearance is a promise, and its feebleness, with careful attention to the order
of its life, will gain strength and tallness. Take care of the convictions, the aspira-
tions, the promises, and the small expressions of goodness and godliness in life ;
they are the blades of true and Christian life. 2. Then the ear. This is the middle
stage of Christian life. (1) This shows a life partially developed. It has not
reached its intended ultimate end, but has made considerable progress towards it.
The dangers which surround the beginning of life are overcome. (2) It is a life
partly consolidated in strength and maturity. It is not so strong as to be out of
danger, it is not so complete as to be perfect ; yet it is beyond the reach of many of
the smaller forces which once threatened its life and growth, and is also in a fair
way of reaching the higher perfection which it aspires after. (3) It is a life of
greater testedness than that of the blade. It has stood the test of storms and
frosty nights ; and in the midst and through them all it has grown, and stands fair
for a brighter and richer future still. (4) It is a life in active progress. It is a life
of history. It is a life of experience. 8. The full com in the ear. (1) It is /i con-
dition of substantial possession. It is not a life of uncertain promise, which may
never be fulfilled, but of reality and substance. It is not a matter of outward form,
but one of precious value — the ear is full of com. It ia a life of weight, of value,
and of fitness. (2) It is a stage of maturity. The oi^ans are fully developed, and
160 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap, vi^
the end is fully obtained. It comes up to the expectation of the proprietor. (3) It
is a state of triumph. All inherent weakness has been conquered, and a mature life
has been gained. Such a life is worth the aim and effort ; it is the end of all agents
and means of God's grace and providence. 4. It is intended to show us a life having
answered its right end. The end of all toil and culture was to make it full and rich
in the ear ; that period has arrived without a failure, and all rejoice in the fact.
Such a life is the highest thing possible, for there is nothing better for us than to
answer the end of the Divine plan of wisdom and goodness. II. The prooeess of
Chkistian life. Divine order is one of progress. Among finite imperfect beings,
this is a necessity in law, and a kindness in provision. We are born infants, and
we gain strength and knowledge by gradual progression. 1. It is a progress by
events. Sometimes there is a discovery made which reveals more in an hoar than
otherwise in an age. We on a sudden rise to the top of some sunny mountain,
and see more by that event than all the travel in the valley below would have shown
TIB all our life — the haziness is removed from the vision in one moment by the re-
velation of events, and we become truer, stronger, and happier, as by the magic of
lightning. The peeping of the blade through the earth, the forming of the ear, and
the filling of the ear, are events in the plant which show its advancement, as well
as being the means of its progress. Birth, in our natural life, is an event of amazing
progress ; so is the quickening of our moral sentiments in our religious life ; and
often the reading of a book, the intercourse with a superior friend, or entrance into
a school, become the greatest possible events in our mental life. Nature is full of
eyents, bo is religion. They break the monotony of life, and give freshness and
force to the general and common in existence, so as to make them varied and attrao«
live. Let us not think that they are not of Divine ordination by reason that they
are only rare and occasional ; they have their class, laws, and work, as much as the
common in every day's transaction. 2. It is a progress of law and order. Progress
is only possible by law ; the thing that does not advance by law is a retrogression.
We may not be able to understand all in the law of life, but we can follow it, for
that is both our duty and privilege alike. The law of progress is within the reach
of the babe ; by submitting to it he advances into true manhood. It is the fixing
of the Boul upon high objects, using all means given ns for that end, and unyielding
perseverance in the apphcation. 8. It is a progress through opposing forces and
difficulties. Nothing escapes the opposing powers of life. If the little blade could
give us the history of days and nights, oh 1 what a story of difficulties and dangers
would it tell ns 1 Can sinful man expect to advance more easily than the beautiful
flower or the innocent blade ? Human nature is weedy and thorny, a yery uncon-
genial soil for the seed of life. 4. It is a progress in itself imperceivable in its
actual process. The growth of the blade is not seen in itself, it is only seen at dif-
ferent epochs. 6. It is a progress hidden in mystery. We speak of things as if we
knew them, whereas we faiow very Httle more than their existence and their names.
No physiologist can explain all the laws of life and growth in the plant ; and it
can be no amazement if we know as little in the greater thing of spiritual life in
the soul. 6. It is a progress of gradual, slow development. The plant does not
reach its maturity in one hour, but it is the growth of different seasons, treatment,
night and day, weeks and months. Good culture can only bring it forward more
rapidly, and produce a better quality ; it cannot alter the law of gradual advance-
ment. Slow and gradual development of Christian life in our heart and practice
eorresponds with our powers to bear and to do. If it were all at once, we could not
bear it ; also its educational power over our patience and hope would be of little
value, as well as the perpetual enjoyment which it throws over the whole period of
gradual growth. It is dependent upon our activity, and if we acted more earnestly
it would be much faster in growth than it is ; but if we acted to the top of our
strength, used all means, and failed in nothing, it would be still an advancement by
degrees. If we are slow in the cUmbing, we have time to reflect and gain wisdom
as we proceed ; if it is gradual and tedious, we get more consolidated in the growth
and soil. Let us not be discouraged ; this is not an exception in our spiritual Ufe,
it is the law in other matters much the same. The organs of our bodies, the powers
of our minds, reach their full height and maturity little by little. The great build-
ing is reared by Blow and gradual advancement, and the tall and broad oak reaches
its climax maturity through very slow degrees. We have no reason to be discouraged ;
law is safe and sure ; it is as faithful in the slow process as it is in the event of the
faster advancement. We have nothing to fear apart from ourselves ; enough for us
to know that it will be finished in due time if we fail not to give all diligence to
OHAP. rr.^ 8T, MARK, 161
geonre the happy result. HE. Thb coin>moNAJi laws of Ghbistiam lite, bequxbbs
IK BVEBT 8TA.GE OF ITS ADVANCEMENT, AND INVOLVED EVEN IN THE FACT OF ITS EXIBTBNOa.
1. One condition in the life and growth of the plant is, there must be vital seed. No
one with experience thinks of planting lifeless particles, for experience and reason
unite to proclaim it hopeless and nseless. A mere form or appearance of life is not
sufficient ; it must be real in the heart of the seed to give life to the plant. Chris-
tian truth in its right relation is life, and thus planted and cultivated, produces life
in the believing mind and heart that receives it. 2. Another condition in the order
of law is, there must be a proper soil to receive the seed. To receive the seed of
life, there is a fit soil required in our mind, heart, and conscience. 3. Another
law in the growth of the plant is the one of means. The plant you must cultivate,
or it will decline into feebleness, and will die. You must water its root, remove de-
structive weeds from communion with it, take away the thing that shades it, and
sometimes yon must prop it ; these are the means of law and life, and you never
say they are hard and unreasonable ; you think yourself sufficiently rewarded for
all in being able to preserve the life of the plant. Think not that spiritual life
requires less at your hands than that of the plant. 4. Another law in the advance-
ment of life, both of the plant and Christian, is variety in unity of operation. Be<
fore a little plant can Uve and grow, you must have combination of elements
operating in beautiful harmony for the purpose. The wind must blow, the rain
must fall ; light, heat, and gases must meet in nice equality and harmonious acti-
vity. The absence of one would make the process imperfect ; even an inequality
would impair the total result of the whole. The law applicable to the plant is ana-
logically the same in Christian life. As in the life of the plant, so there are various
elements and agencies required to sustain and carry on the process of Christian life
to its full beauty and perfection. Light, faith, love, hope, patience, action, com-
munion, perseverance, and sacrifice, must be united in the delicate and important
woiiE of the building up of Christian life. 6. Another law in the economy of Life
is active exercise. Life is an active thing ; it is preserved and advanced by nn-
oeasing activity. To preserve Christian life in full and healthy vigour, the whole
soul must be in full exercise. 6. Another condition I shall just name — something
supernatural, and above and behind life, is required for its existence and growth. Life
in the plant, as well as in the heart, is incapable of producing itself, and the source of
it must be above and independent of the means which produce and sustain it. (7.
Hiighei.) What the farm labourers can do and what they cannot do: — L We shall,
first, learn from our text what we can do and what ws cannot do. "So is the king-
dom of God, as if a man should cast seed into the ground : " this the gracious
worker can do. •* And the seed should spring and grow up, he knoweth not how : "
this is what he cannot do : seed once sown is beyond human jurisdiction, and man
can neither make it spring nor grow. Notice, then, that we can sow. Any man
who has received the knowledge of the grace of God in his heart can teach others.
We need never quarrel with God because we cannot do everything, if He only
permits us to do this one thing ; for sowing the good seed is a work which will need
all our wit, our strength, our love, our care. Still, wise sowers discover favourable
opportunities for sowing, and gladly seize upon them. This seed should be sown
often, for many are the foes of the wheat, and if you repeat not your sowing you
may never see a harvest. The seed must be sown everywhere, too, for there are no
ohoice corners of the world that you can afford to let alone, in the hope that
they will be self -productive. You may not leave the rich and intelligent under the
notion that surely the gospel will be found among them, for it is not so : the pride
of life leads them away from God. You may not leave the poor and illiterate, and
say, •♦ Surely they will of themselves feel their need of Christ" I have heard that
Captain Cook, the celebrated circumnavigator, in whatever part of the earth he
landed, took with him a little packet of English seeds, and scattered them in suit-
able places. He would leave the boat and wander up from the shore. He said
nothing, but quietly scattered the seeds wherever he went, so that he belted the
world with the flowers and herbs of his native land. Imitate him wherever yon
go ; sow spiritual seed in every place that your foot shall tread upon. Let us now
think of what you cannot do. You cannot, after the seed has left your hand, cause
it to put forth life. I am sure you cannot make it grow, for you do not know how
it grows. The text saith, " And the seed should spring and grow up, he knoweth
not how." That which is beyond the range of our knowledge is certainly beyond
the reach of our power. Can you make a seed germinate f Certainly this is true
of the rise and progress of the life of God in the heart It enters the soul, and
11
162 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. ir.
roots itself we know not bow. Naturally men hate the Word, but it enters and it
changes their hearts, so that they come to love it ; yet we know not bow. Their
whole nature is renewed, so that instead of producing sin it yields repentance, faith,
and love ; bat we know not how. How the Spirit of God deals with the mind ol
man, how He creates the new heart and the right spirit, how we are begotten again
unto a lively hope, we cannot tell. II. Our second head is like unto the first, and
consists of WHAT WE CAN KNOW AND WHAT WE CANNOT KNOW. First, what WB cau
know. We can know when we have sown the good seed of the Word that it will
grow ; for God has promised that it shall do so. Moreover, the earth, which is
here the type of the man, " bringeth forth fruit of herself." We must mind what
we are at in expounding this, for human hearts do not produce faith of themselves;
they are as hard rock on which the seed perishes. But it means this — that as the
earth under the blessing of the dew and the rain is, by God's secret working upon
it, made to take up and embrace the seed, so the heart of man is made ready to
receive and enfold the gospel of Jesus Christ within itself. Man's awakened heart
wants exactly what the Word of God supplies. Moved by a divine influence the soul
embraces the truth, and is embraced by it, and so the truth lives in the heart, and
is quickened by it. Man's love accepts the love of God ; man's faith wrought in
tiim by the Spirit of God believes the truth of God ; man's hope wrought in him by
the Holy Ghost lays hold upon the things revealed, and so the heavenly seed grows
in the soil of the soul. The life comes not from you who preach the Word, but it
is placed within the Word which you preach by the Holy Spirit. The life is
not in your hand, but in the heart which is led to take hold upon the truth by
the Spirit of God. Salvation comes not from the personal authority of the
preacher, but through the personal conviction, personal faith, and personal
love of the hearer. So much as this we may know, and is it not enough for all
practical purposes ? Still, there is a something which we cannot know, a secret
into which we cannot pry. I repeat what I have said before : you cannot look into
men's inward parts and see exactly how the truth takes hold upon the heart, or the
heart takes hold upon the truth. Many have watched their own feelings till they
have become blind with despondency, and others have watched the feelings of the
yikung till they have done them rather harm than good by their rigorous supervision.
In God's work there is more room for faith than for sight. The heavenly seed
grows secretly. III. Thirdly, our text tells us what wb may expect ip we wobk
FOB God, and what we may not expect. According to this parable we may expect
to see fruit. But we may not expect to see all the seed which we sow spring up the
moment we sow it. We are also to expect to see the good seed grow, but not always
after our fashion. Like children we are apt to be impatient. Your little boy sowed
mustard and cress yesterday in his garden. This afternoon Johnny will be turning
over the ground to see if the seed is growing. There is no probability that his
mustard and cress will come to anything, for he will not let it alone long enough
for it to grow. So is it with hasty workers ; they must see the result of the gospel
directly, or else they distrust the blessed Word. Certain preachers are in such a
hurry that they will allow no time for thought, no space for counting the cost, no
opportunity for men to consider their ways and turn to the Lord with full purpose
of heart. All other seeds take time to grow, but the seed of the Word must grow
before the speaker's eyes like magic, or he thinks nothing has been done. Such
good brethren are so eager to produce blade and ear there and then, that they roast
their seed in the fire of fanaticism, and it perishes. We may expect also to see the
seed ripen. Our works will by God's grace lead up to real faith in those He hath
wrought upon by his Word and Spirit ; but we must not expect to see it perfect at
first. How many mistakes have been made here. Here is a young person under
impression, and some good, sound brother talks with the trembling beginner, and
asks profound questions. He shakes his experienced head, and knits his furrowed
brows. He goes into the corn-field to see how the crops are prospering, and though
it is early in the year, he laments that he cannot see an ear of com ; indeed, he
perceives nothing but mere grass. " I cannot see a trace of corn,*' says he. No,
brother, of course you cannot ; for you will not be satisfied with the blade as an
evidence of life, but must insist upon seeing everything at full growth at once. If
you had looked for the blade you would have found it; and it woiild have encouraged
you. For my own part, I am glad even to perceive a faint desire, a feeble longing,
• degree of uneasiness, or a measure of weariness of sin, or a craving after mercy.
Will it not be wise for you, also, to allow tilings to begin at the beginning, and to
be satisfied with their being small at the first ? See the blade of desire, and then
CHAP. IV. J ST. MARK. 16«
watch for more. Soon you shall see a little more than desire ; for there shall be
conviction and resolve, and after that a feeble faith, small as a mustard seed, bat
bound to grow. Do not despise the day of small things. lY. Under the last head
we shall consider what sleep wobkebs mat take, and what thet mat not takb ;
for it is said of this sowing man, that he sleeps and rises night and day, and the
seed springs and grows up he knoweth not how. But how may a good workman
for Christ lawfully go to sleep ? I answer, first, he may sleep the sleep of restful-
ness born of confidence. Also take that sleep of joyful expectancy which leads to
a happy waking. Take your rest because you have consciously resigned your work
into God's hands. But do not sleep the sleep of unwatchfulness. A farmer sows
his seed, but he does not therefore forget it. {G. H. Spurgeon.) On the
analogies which obtain between the natural and the spiritual husbandry : — A
man may be qualified for practically carrying forward a process, of whose hidden
steps and of whose internal workings he is most profoundly ignorant. This is true
in manufactures. It is true in the business of agriculture. And it holds eminently
true in the business of education. How many are the efficient artizans, for example,
in whose hands you may at all times count on a right and prosperous result ; but
who are utterly in the dark as to the principles of that chemistry in their respective
arts by the operation of which the result is arrived at. And how many a plough-
man, who knows best how to prepare the ground, and who knows best how to deposit
the seed for the object of a coming harvest ; and yet, if questioned upon the arcana
of physiology, or of those secret and intermediate changes by which the grain in the
progress of vegetable growth is transformed into a complete plant ripened and ready
for the use of man, would reply, in the language of my text, that he knoweth not
how. And, in like manner, there is many a vigorous and successful educationist,
who does come at the result of good scholarship, whether in Christianity or in
common learning — and that without ever theorizing on the latent and elementary
principles of the subject upon which he operates — without so much as casting one
glance at the science of metaphysics — a science more inscrutable still than that of
physiology ; and which, by probing into the mysteries of the human spirit, would
fain discover how it is that a truth is first deposited there by communication, and
then takes root in the memory, and then warms into an impression, and then forms
into a sentiment, and then ripens into a purpose, and then comes out to visible
observation in an effect or a deed or a habit of actual performance. There are
thousands who, in the language of our text, know not how all this comes about,
and yet have, in point of fact and of real business, set the process of it effectively
agoing. We cannot afford at present to trace all the analogies which obtain between
a plant from the germination of its seed, and a Christian from the infancy of his
first principles. We shall, in the first place, confine ourselves to one or two of these
analogies ; and, secondly, endeavour to show how some of what may be called the
larger operations of Christian philanthropy admit of having a certain measure of
light thrown upon them, by the comparison which is laid before us in this parable
between the work of a teacher and the work of a husbandman. L In the
AGBICULTUBAIi PBOCESS THERE IS MUCH THAT IS LEFT TO BE DONE BT NaTUBE, AND IN A
WAT THAT THE WORKMAN KNOWETH NOT HOW ; NOB IS IT AT ALL NECESSABT THAT HE
SHOULD. He puts forth his hand and sets a mechanism agoing — the principles of
which he, with his head, is wholly unable to comprehend. The doing of his part is
indispensable, but his knowledge of the way in which Nature doeth her part is not
indispensable. Now, it is even so in the work of spiritual husbandry. There is an
obvious part of it that is done by the agency of man ; and there is a hidden part of
it which is independent of that agency. What more settled and reposing than the
faith which a husbandman has in the constancy of Nature. He knows not how it
is ; but, on the strength of a gross and general experience, he knows that so it is.
And it were well in a Christian teacher to imitate this confidence. There is in it
both the wisdom of experience and the sublime wisdom of piety. But, again, it is
the work of the husbandman to cast the seed into the ground. It is not his work
manufacture the seed. This were wholly above him and beyond him. In like
anner, to excogitate and to systematize the truths which we are afterwards to
deposit in the minds of those who are submitted to our instruction, were a task
beyond the faculties of man. These truths, therefore, are provided to his hand.
What his eye could not see, nor his ear hear, has been brought within his reach by
a communication from heaven; and to him nothing is left but a simple acquiescence
in his Bible, and a faithful exposition of it. Our writers upon education may have
done something. They may have scattered a few s perficial elegancies over tha
164 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. it.
faoe of Bociety, and taught the lovely daughters of acoomplishment how to walk in
gracefulness their little hour over a paltry and perishable scene. But it is only in
as far as tbey deal in the truths and lessons of the Bible that they rear any plants
for heaven, or can carry forward a single pupil to the bloom and the vigour of
immortality. And as we have not to manufacture a seed for the operations of our
spiritual husbandry, so neither have wo to mend it. It is not fit that the wisdom
of God should thus be intermeddled with by the wisdom of man. But again — we
do not lose sight of the analogy which there is between the work of a spiritual and
that of a natural husbandman — when, after having affirmed the indispensableness
of casting into the ground of the human heart the pure and the simple Word, we
further affirm the indispensableuess and the efficacy of prayer. Even after that, in
the business of agriculture, man hath performed his handiwork by depositing the
seed in the earth — he should acknowledge the handiwork of God, in those high and
hidden processes, whether of the atmosphere above or of the vegetable kingdom
below, which he can neither control nor comprehend. By the work of diUgenoe
which he does with his hand, he fulfils man's parts of the operation. By the prayer
of dependence which arises from his heart, he does homage and recognition to
God's part of it. And we are not to imagine that prayer is without effect, even in
the processes of the natural economy. The same God who framed and who organized
our great mundane system has never so left it to the play and the impulses of its
own mechanism as to have resigned even for one moment that mastery over it which
belongs to Him ; but He knows when to give that mysterious touch, by which He
both answers prayer, and disturbs not the harmony of the universe which He has
formed. It is when man aspires upwards after fellowship with God, and looks and
longs for the communications of light and of power from the sanctuary — it is then
that God looks with fondest complacency upon man, and lets willingly downward
all the treasures of grace upon his soul. It is said of Ehjah that, when he prayed,
the heaven gave rain and the earth brought forth her fruit. II. We now come to
the second thing proposed, which was to show how sous or what mat be called
THE LABGEE OPEBATIONS OP CHRISTIAN PHILANTHEOPT ADMIT OF A CERTAIN MEASURE OP
LIGHT BEIKG THROWN UPON THEM BY THE COMPARISON MADE IN THIS PARABLE BETWEEN
THE WORE OF A CHRISTIAN TEACHER AND THE WORK OP A HUSBANDMAN. And first, it
may evince to us the efficacy of that Christian teaching, which is sometimes under-
taken by men in humble life and of the most ordinary scholarship. Let them have
but understanding enough for the great and obvious simplicities of the Bible, and
let them have grace enough for devout and depending prayer ; and, on the strength
cf these two properties, they are both wise unto salvation for themselves, and may
become the instruments of winning the souls of others also. It is well for the
families of our land that the lessons of eternity can fall with effect even from the
lips of the cottage patriarch. But this brings us to the last of those analogies
between the natural and the spiritual husbandry which we shall at present be able
to overtake — an analogy not certainly suggested by the text, but still close enough
for the illustration of all which we can now afford to say in defence of those
parochial establishments which have done so much, we think, both for the Chris-
tianity and the scholarship of our people. A territorial division of the country into
parishes, each of which is assigned to at least one minister as the distinct and
definite field of his spiritual cultivation — this we have long thought does for Chris-
tianity what is often done in agriculture by a system of irrigation. You are aware
what is meant by this. Its use is for the conveyance and the distribution of water»
that indispensable sJiment to all vegetation over the surface of the land. It is
thus, for example, that by the establishment of ducts of conveyance the waters
of the Nile are made to overspread the farms of Egypt — the country through
which it passes. This irrigation, you will observe, does not supply the water.
It only conveys it. It does not bring down the liquid nourishment from heaven.
It only spreads it abroad upon the earth. Were there no descent of water from
above, causing the river to overflow its banks, there is nothing in the irrigation,
with its then dry and deserted furrows, which could avail the earth that is below.
On the other hand, were there no irrigation, many would be the tracts of
country that should have no agriculture and could bring no produce. Let not,
therefore, our dependence on the Spirit lead us to despise the machinery of a
territorial establishment, and neither let our confidence in machinery lead na
to neglect prayer for the descent of living water from on high. {Dr. Chalmen.)
Myiterious growth: — ^We httle think how much is always going on in what we may call
Ihe underground of life ; and how much more we have to do with those secret processes
«BAP. lY.] ST. MARK. 165
which nnderlie everything, than might, at first sight, appear. We are all casting
live seeds. Every word, act, look, goes down into somebody's mind, and livef
there. Yon said something — ^it was false. Ton said it lightly. But some one
heard it, and it lodged in his mind ; it was a seed to him. It found something in
that man's mind that was congenial to it ; and so it struck a root ; it ramified ;
it fructified. It led on to other thoughts ; then it became a word or an action in that
man's life ; and his word and act did to another heart just what yours did to him.
This is the dark side of a grand truth. Now read the bright side. " So is the
kingdom of God, as if a man should cast seed," &o. The sower of this seed is
properly the Lord Jesus Christ ; but He uses men. The truth in a man's heart
propagates — ^but secretly. We are to believe in the independent power that there
is in God's Word to do its own work in a man's heart. There is something kindred
between a particular word and some affection or thought in a man's mind before
it can take effect. Perhaps the word will incline a man to give up some sin he has
previously indulged ; may awaken a sense of dissatisfaction with the world ; may
beget a painful sense of sin. However it be, there will be a great deal passing in the
mind which does not meet the eye. Fathers and mothers, who have cast the early
seed, you have slept for very sorrow. You see nothing. Wait on. The springing
and the growing will be you know not where, and you know not how. {J. Vaughan,
M.A.) The seed growing secretly : — 1. God does His work silently. 2. God does
His work slowly. 3. God does His work surely. Underneath all apparent disasters
His kingdom comes. I. In expounding this parable observe that this law of God
supposes HUMAN EFFOBT. II. It supposes HUMAN CONFIDENCE quite as much aa
human effort. {W. G. Barrett.) Progressive religion: — I. God carries on His
work of grace by the instbumentality of men — " As if a man should cast seed."
II. This work of grace is often for some time unpebceived. Thus the seed of
Divine grace sown in the heart is frequently there when not discerned. It is often
concealed owing to the gradual and imperceptible manner in which it is produced;
by the privacy of a man's situation, and because of the natural timidity of his
temper. It should excite the prayer, ** Let Thy work appear unto Thy servant,"
&c. HI. Where this work of grace exists it must sooner or later appbab —
" Springeth and groweth up." IV. It is obadual in its growth — " First the blade,"
(fee. For some time knowledge, faith, love, hope, joy, are small and feeble. But
gradually the believer gathers strength. He grows in knowledge and hatred of sic.
But let not the weakest be discouraged ; the tenderness of Jesus is a strong conso-
lation. V. The work of grace is beneficial in its peesent effects — '♦ When
the fruit is brought forth." The fruit of piety towards God and of usefulness to
men. VI. This work of grace is glorious in its final result — " Immediately he
putteth in the sickle, because the harvest is come." The gathering of saints to
heaven is God's harvest. The value which God attaches to His own people, and
the tender care which He exercises over them. When this work is done they are
gathered into heaven. 1. Has the Word of God been sown in your hearts 7 You
have it in your Bibles, but have you received it ? 2. You that seem to receive the
Word, what evidence have you of its growth ? 3. What prospect have you of this
glorious result? {T. Kidd.) Changes incident to Christian growth: — 1. The
law of growth is one of the necessary laws of life. All life must be actually grow-
ing. 2. That growth in Christian life involves changes. Our views of God may be
expected to change and grow ; of the relationship between God and Christ ; of the
relative importance and the proportions of different doctrines ; our views of God's
Word will change. But as these changes pass over the growing Christian he is
often greatly distressed. Be humble, but do not fear. Some of the changes inci-
dent to Christian growth will affect our views of religious duties and the religious
life. As we grow we form a different estimate of the active and passive, of the
working and waiting. (R.Tuck,B.A.) Growth through change: — And this is
the peculiarity of growth in animal Ufe — it is growth through change. Think of
the silkworm. It is first a little egg ; within it life is developing ; presently the worm
comes creeping forth ; again and again it casts its skin, changing until it passes
into a state like death, changing once more into a winged form, full of beauty.
These growings by change have been illustrated from the peculiarities of the ride
by railway into the City of Edinburgh. Sometimes the train passes through flat,
well-populated country. Sometimes it hurries through the busy towns, over which
the dark smoke hangs. Sometimes it passes amid the hills, up winding valleys,
and along the murmuring shores, and the travellers are enchanted with varying
•eenes of natural beauty. Presently it nears its destination, and rushes screaming
166 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap, vr,
into the dark tunnel, which shuts oat all light and beauty. That is the last change,
and soon it comes forth into the North Loch, and all the full glory of that city of
monuments and mansions breaks upon the view. Ever advancing, through changinga
and growings, we, too, shall come through the valley of the shadow to the city of
the great King, and the full glory of holiness and the smile of God. (Ibid.) Soul
life and growth imperceptible : — When a man is building a house he can see it as
it goes on. That is an outside matter. There is seam after seam, row after row
of stone or brick. Gradually the form of the window or the door rises. The second
story, the third story, the building up to the roof appears. He can see it day by
day. A man goes into his garden and plants, for spring, the early lettuce, or radish,
or whatever it may be. He may sit up all night with spectacles and a lantern, but he
will not see anything going on ; and yet there is something going on which is
vitally connected with the whole operation of vegetable devdopment The seed
has not been in the ground an hour before it feels its outward husk swelling by
imbibing moisture. It has not been for ten hours in the warm soil before it begins
to feel that the material in the seed itself is chemically affected, changed. Many a
seed has not been twenty-four hours in the ground before there is an impulse in it
at one end to thrust down a root, and at the other end to thrust up a plumule, or
the beginning of a visible stalk; but it makes no noise. It is like Solomon's
Temple ; it is a structure that is built without the sound of a hammer ; and what-
ever it may come to, all the earlier processes of germination and development are
invisible and are silent ; for if you take it out into the light it will not grow. The
seed needs warmth, moisture, and luminous darkness — ^that is to say, considerable
darkness, and yet a little invisible light. So it is with the spiritual life. (H. W.
BeecJier.) Christian life long invisible : — I knew a young man in Boston, whose
father was rich. He had genius, particularly in the formative, sculptural art ; and
his amusement was in making busts and little clay statues. One lucky day, the
father lost all his property, and the young man was thrown out of business, and
had to work for his own livelihood. He had already made the busts of friends,
and when the motives to indolence were taken away from him, when the golden
ohair was broken, and he had to get up and go to work, he said to himself, "What
can I do for a living better than this ? " Well, he has come to the artist state
already, unconsciously, not expecting to be a professional artist, simply following
his taste ; but the moment he puts out his sign, showing that he would like to have
custom for the sake of self-support, then everybody says, " He has become an
artist." He has been an artist a good while, but it is just being developed before
the public. The roots of the thing were in him long ago. (Ibid.) Moral changes
iometimes unconsciously wrought : — When I travelled in Italy I knew the line be-
tween Italy and Austria. We all had to go out and have our trunks examined and
our passports vitsid. We were all of us hurried out suspiciously, as if we were con-
trabands. Then we went over, and I knew I was in Austria. But in America yon
can go from one State to another, as there is no Custom House, thank God, on the
lines ; as there are no passports required ; as there is nothing to interrupt the
journey. You glide into the State of New York from Connecticut, from New York
into Pennsylvania, and from Pennsylvania into Ohio, and you do not think you
have made any change in the State, though you have really.^ You bring a person
np in Christian nurture, and in the admonition of the Lord, in the household, and
he is gaining more light ; he is adapting the light which he has ; and he comes
into that state of mind in which all he wants in order to realize that he is a Chris-
tian is to wake up into consciousness. (Ibid.) The helplessness of the spiritual
husbandman : — We have in this a most simple, yet striking, representation of the
business and, at the same time, of the helplessness of the spiritual husbandman.
Unto the ministers of the gospel, who are the great moral labourers in the field of
tJie world, there is entrusted the task of preparing the soil and of casting in the
seed. And if they bring to this task all the fidelity and all the diligence of intent
and single-eyed labourers ; if they strive to make ready the ground by leading men
to clear away the weeds of an unrighteous practice, and to apply the spade and
ploughshare of a resistance to evil, and a striving after good ; and if, then, by a
faitliful publication of the grand truths of the gospel, they throw in the seed of
the Word, they have reached the boundary of their office and also of their strength ;
and are to the full as powerless to the making the seed germinate, and send forth
a harvest, as the husbandman to the causing the valleys to stand thick with com.
And, indeed, in the spiritual agriculture, the power of the husbandman is even
more circumscribed than in the natural. With all the pains with which a minister
CHAP. IV.] ST. MARK. 161
of Christ may ply at the dutiea of his office, he can never be sure that the ground is
fit for receiving the grain : he must just do always, what the tiller of the natural
soil is never reduced to do, run the risk of casting the seed upon the rock, or of
leaving it to be devoured by the fowls of the air. {U. Melvill.) Seed growing
though unrecognized: — Ministers require to be very cautious in judging as to the
influence of the truth among their hearers. Amidst much that is externally
unfavourable, and even hostile, that truth may be operating, producing con-
viction, checking long-cherished sins, and subduing the pride of the corrupt heart.
It is a very agreeable and self -flattering thing for a man to say that because
religion does not manifest itself in other men in the same way it does in him,
therefore these people have no religion. This is very common, and is in reality
but a branch of that master sin of intolerance, which has so often been crushing
all the charities of our nature ; and even amidst the solemnity of devotional exer-
cises, despising and invading the conventional decencies of life. Often, when we
do not see it, religion is at work ; often, when we never suspected it, it has made
considerable progress. Its influence is sweet, makes no noise, and has no ostenta-
tious signs. We must not forget the mistake of Elijah, a mistake into which
ministers and others have not unfrequently fallen. When he supposed himself to
stand alone the defender of the truth, there were seven thousand in Israel doing
daily homage to it. If he had been told seventy, it would have been remarkable—
if seven hundred, more so ; but seven thousand was altogether astonishing. " The
kingdom of God cometh not with observation." In obscure places, in noiseless
retirements, and without one arresting sign, the truth takes effect. The minister
is not thinking of it. The very members of the family are not thinking of it.
Daily companions and friends are not thiiiking of it. There is no profession, no
controversy, no street-shouts, no exclusiveness, no badges of partizanship ; bat
nevertheless, on the unseen arena of thought, the truth is establishing its power,
achieving its triumphs, subduing desire after desire, purpose after purpose, and will
at last yield peace and joy unspeakable. {Archibald Bennie.) Growth unex-
plained : — Who shall scrutinize the agency by which the Word is applied to the
conscience ? Who shall explain how, after weeks, it may be, or months, or years,
during which the seed has been buried, there will often unexpectedly come a
moment when the preached Word shall rise up in the memory, and a single text,
long ago heard, and to all appearance forgotten, overspread the soul with the big
thoughts of eternity? It is a mystery which far transcends all our powers of inves-
tigation, how spirit acts upon spirit, so that whilst there are no outward tokens of
an applied machinery, there is going on a mighty operation, even the effecting a
moral achievement which far surpasses the stretch of all finite ability. We are so
accustomed to that change which takes place in a sinner's conversion that we do
not ascribe to it in right measure its characteristic of wonderful. Yet wonderful,
most wonderful it is — wonderful in the secrecy of the process, wonderful in the nature
of the result ! I can understand a change wrought on matter ; I have no difficulty
in perceiving that the same substance may be presented in quite a different aspect,
and that mechanical and chemical power may make it pass through a long series
of transformations; but where is the mechanism which shall root from the heart
the love of sin ? where the chemistry which shall so sublimate the affections, that
they will mount towards God ? It is the eternal revolution which I have no power
of scrutinizing, except in its effect. {H. Melvill,) Seed never idle: — Though
it is very slow and imperceptible in its growth, still the seed never really lies
idle. From the moment of its first start to its final ripening, it is always on
its way; it never once stops, far less does it ever go backward. It can never
return into the blade out of which it originally sprang; it cannot even stand
for long together without exhibiting decided signs of its growth. Now and then,
perhaps, the weather may be very much against it, still it keeps waiting for the
first favourable change ; and as soon as ever this appears, it takes immediate advan-
tage of it, and starts forward again on its way. And so, too, it is with the good
seed in the heart. Trials and temptations may check its growth there for a while ;
but it is only for a while ; and at the first removal, or lessening of these, it again
goes on its way as before. It never goes back any more than the ear goes back into
the blade out of which it has sprung. It has but one way of growing, and that ia
heavenwards. (H. Harris.) Groicth of seed mysterious : — In saying that the
seed groweth up we " know not how," the mysterious nature and working of grac«
is hinted at. It is not regulated by natural laws, though they afford many illustra-
tive analogies. It cannot be reduced to a science, like agriculture or mechanics.
168 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [ohap. !▼.
There is no philosophy of the Holy Ghost. Begeneration is not the result of any
forces which human reason defines and gauges, much less controls; and the Divine
life which is breathed into the soul by the mysterious visitation of the Spirit, blowing
like the wind, of which vve cannot tell whence it cometh and whither it goeth, is
afterwards maintained by supernatural supplies from the same invisible source, and
is "hid with Christ in God." {Josiah D. Smith.) The truth is God'$ seed: —
The one great consideration to be kept in view is, that the truth is God's seed. It
is no theory or set of maxims of man's devising — adapted in the short-sighted calcu-
lations of human reason to certEtin ends ; but it is God's selected instrument, and in
that very fact we have at once obligation and encouragement to use it. That moral
world where its effects are produced is His, as well as the firmament of heaven, or
the green fields of the earth — naked to His eye, and subject to His control. He
has adapted it to the end which He has in view — He who poised the stars in their
spheres, and so skilfully adjusted the exquisite mechanism of man, beast, and bird.
Besides, he has annexed a Divine, ever-active, ever-present agency to the use of it.
It is not left to force its way amidst obstructions ; but, while Providence often
appears to pioneer its way into the hearts of men, that gracious Spirit which moved
of old on the face of the waters, goes forth with it, gives to its brief sentences the
power of thunder, and to its appeals the withering force of the lightning flash, and
makes it to revolutionize and transform the whole inner world of thought and
desire. Hence the rapid and extraordinary triumphs with which it has glorified
the annals of the Church ; the temples of idolatry shaken to their foundations ;
ancient prejudices melted like wax ; proud passions crushed and eradicated ; super-
stition, pleasure, philosophy, all put to flight. The power of opinion is not un-
frequently greatly extolled, and it is wonderful, A single truth, clearly announced,
troubles a continent. A small thought goes forth from one man's breast, and
achieves victories denied to armed hosts and costly expeditions. But all the
triumphs of opinion are a mere trifle compared with the triumphs of the truth of
Ood ; truth, whose banners have been planted upon the domes of heathen temples,
have waved above the ruins of thrones, and have been borne in bloodless fame to
the ends of the earth. This is the true seed, of which the harvest is eternal life.
{Archibald Bennie.) Conversion gradmil : — Is there not a great deal too much
anxiety to recognize in conversion something sudden and surprising, some word or
thing arresting or transfixing the soul ? It is possible by electricity to make seeds
suddenly germinate and prematurely grow, but this is not healthy, fruitful life.
People want something like this in conversion ; they can hardly believe in a new
life unless it begins thus. Conviction must come Uke lightning — a blaze in the
midst of a great darkness. Is it not better to come like sunlight — a gradual, illu-
minating, diffusive thing 7 If it do come like lightning, let us be thankful that
God does so break in upon the darkness of our day. Hardened, immoral men are
sometimes thus smitten to the earth. More commonly and more naturally it comes
like light ♦♦shining more and more unto the perfect day." The pious nurture of
infancy and childhood deepening the religious heart, and developing the religious
life — ♦♦first the blade, then the ear, then the full corn in the ear." But let
it begin as it may, the process is one of continuous growth, innocence maturing
into holiness, passion deepening into principle, struggle developing strength,
laborious act becomes easy habit ; a gracious mellowing influence permeating and
glorifying the entire life ; the life of the soul growing, not as a fragile succulent
gourd, but as a close-grained tree, every day and every experience adding growth
and strength. (H. Allon.) The order of growth : — Not only does the corn always
go on growing, but it always observes the same order and succession in its growth ;
♦♦ first the blade, then the ear, after that the full corn in the ear." This is an order
which is never reversed or altered ; it is always the full corn in the ear which is
the last to show itself. And so it is with the heart. First, it is always repen-
tance and sorrow for sin; then, faith in Jesus Christ; then, without losing
these, any more than the grain loses the protection of the blade and the ear,
it goes on to holiness of life, and a sure hope in God's promises; and last of
all to love, love the ripened com, the fulfilling of the ear. (E. Harrii.)
Hope in spite of sight : — This is a parable of hope. It teaches us to be hopeful
when nothing hopeful is seen. The earth which seems the grave is really the cradle
of the seed, and its death is its life. Except it fall into the ground and die, it
abideth alone. It is God's seed, it suits the soil, the sunshine and the shower
favour it, ever so many mysteries too great for me to grasp are on its side, and God
has promised the harvest. Why lose heart then 7 The reaping time shaU come by
CHAP. IT.] ST. MARK, 169
and by. What though it seems unlikely ? Look at that baie, brown field in
8{)ring. What more unlikely than that it shall wave with golden grain f Every
harvest is a perfect miracle. You see a foolish, wicked boy, into whose heart a pray-
ing mother has dropped the good seed. All seems lost ; but wait, and he becomes
a great Christian like John Newton, like thousands whose biographies are the best
commentaries upon this parable, (j. Wells , M.A.) The young convert : — There
is first the convert in the young days of his godliness — the green bladeR just break-
ing through the soil, and giving witness to the germination of the seed. This is
ordinarily a season of great promise. We have not, and we look not for the rich
fruit of a matured, well-disciplined piety, but we have the glow of verdant profession
— everything looks fresh. The young believer scarcely calculates on any interruption,
and as though there were no blighting winds, and no nipping frosts, and no sweep-
ing hail to be expected, in the spiritual agriculture, the tender shoot rises from the
ground, and glistens in the sunshine. (H. Melvill.) The anxieties of growth in
the ear : — Next comes the ear ; and this is a season of weariness and of watching.
Sometimes there will be long intervals without any perceptible growth ; sometimes
the com will look sickly, as though blasted by the mildew ; sometimes the storm
will rush over it, and almost level it with the earth. All this takes place in the
experience of the Christian. The spiritual husbandman and the natural know the
like anxieties in observing the ear of which they have sown the seed. How
slow is sometimes the growth in grace I how slight are the tokens of life ! how
yellow and how drooping the com I The sudden gust of temptation, the fatal bhght
of worldly association, the corroding worm of indwelling corraption, — all these
may tell powerfully and perniciously on the rising crop, and cause that often there
shall scarcely seem reason to hope that any fruit will eventually be yielded. Who
would recognize in the lukewarm, the half-and-half professor, the ardent, the
active, and resolute convert ? Who would know, in the stunted shrivelled ear, the
green blade which had come up like an emerald shoot ? We do not indeed say, that
in every case there will be these various interruptions and declensions. You may
find instances wherein godliness grows uniformly, and piety advances steadily, and
even rapidly, towards perfection. The Christian will sometimes ripen for heaven,
as though, in place of being exposed to cold air, and wind, and rain, he had been
treated as an exotic, and had always been kept under shelter. But, generally, even
with those who maintain the most consistent profession, the Christian life is the
scene of anxiety and uncertainty ; and if it were not that there are gracious promises
assuring them that **the bruised reed shall not be broken, nor the smoking flax
quenched," often must the spiritual husbandman mourn bitterly over the apparent
disappointment of all his best hopes, and surrender himselif to the fear, that when
the great day of harvest breaks on this creation, the field which had once worn that
lovely enamel which gave such promise of an abundant ingathering, will yield
nothing to the reaper but the dry and parched stalks, fit only to be bound in bundles
for the burning. {Ibid,) Suffering Christians spared : ** Immediately he putteth
in the sickle " .'^-We must dwell a moment longer upon this ; it is a matter full of
interest and instruction. It seems often, as we have said, to excite surprise both in
the sufferer himself and in others, when a Christian, who has long been eminent for
piety, and whose faith had been conspicuous in his works, lingers for months, per-
haps even years, in wearisome sickness, as though, notwithstanding the preparation
of a righteous life, he needed protracted trial to fit him for the presence of God.
But there is, we believe, altogether a mistake in the view which is commonly taken
of old age and lingering sickness. Because a man is confined to his room or hia
bed, the idea seems to be that he is altogether useless. In the ordinary phrase, he
is *• quite laid by," as though he had no duties to perform when he could no longer
perform those of more active life. Was there ever a greater mistake ? The sick
room, the sick bed, has its special, its appropriate duties, duties to the full as diffi-
«ult, as honourable, as remunerative, as any which devolve on the Christian whilst
yet in his unbroken strength. They are not precisely the same duties as belong to
him in health, but they ^ffer only by such difference as a change in outward cir-
cumstances and position will always introduce. The piety which he has to cultivate,
the resignation which he has to exhibit, the faith which he has to exercise, the
example which he has to set — oh, talk not of the sick man as of a man laid by!
Harder duties, it may be, ay, deeds of more extensive usefulness, are required from
him who lingers on the couch, than from the man of health in the highest and
most laborious of Christian undertakings. Is there, then, any caune for surprise
if a Christian be left to linger in sickness, to wear away tedious months in racking
170 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chaf. vr,
pain and slow decay? Is it at all in contradiction to the saying that " so soon as
the fruit is ripe, immediately he putteth in the sickle " ? Not so ! The fruit is not
necessarily ripe ; the man's work is not necessarily done, because he is what you
call ♦' laid by," and can take no part in the weightier bustle of life. It is they who
turn many to righteousness that are " to shine as stars in the firmament ; " and is
there no sermon from the sick bed 7 Has the sick bed nothing to do with publishing
and adorning the gospel? Tea, I think, then, an awful and perilous trust is com-
mitted to the sick Christian — friends, children, neighbours, the church at large, look
to him for some practical exhibition of the worth of Christianity. If he be fretful,
or impatient, or full of doubts and fears, they will say — Is this all that the gospel
can do for a man in a season of extremity ? If, on the other hand, he be meek and
resigned, and able to testify to God's faithfulness to his word, they will be taught —
and nothing teaches like example — that Christianity can make good its pretensions ;
that it is a sustaining, an elevating, a death-conquering religion. And who shall
calculate what may be wrought through such practical exhibitions of the power and
preciousness of the gospel ? I, for one, will not dare to afiSrm that more is done
towards converting the careless, confirming the wavering, and comforting the
desponding, by the bold champions who labour publicly in the making Christ
known ; than by many a worn-down invalid, who preaches to a household or a
neighbourhood by simple unquestioning dependence on God : I, for one, can believe
that he who dies the death of trial, passing almost visibly, whilst yet in the exercise
of every energy, from a high post of usefulness to the kingdom of glory, may have
fewer at the judgment to witness to the success of his labours, than many a bel-
ridden Christian, who, by a beautiful submission, waited, year after year, his
snmmona to depart. (Ibid.) Originality in character : — We observe the sacred-
ness of individual character — of originality. It bears fruit of itself in its own
individual development. The process is never exactly repeated. Life is no
mechanical thing. It is everywhere alike, yet different. Count the leaves and
grains, measure the height of the trees, examine the leaves of an oak. So in the
Christian life. No two men think the same, or believe the same. It is always so
in the highest life, and in national character. There is ever a beautiful diversity. {F.
W, Robertson.) Life expansion : — Eeal life is that which has in it a principle of
expansion. It " springs and grows up." Moreover, it is not only growth, but ten-
dency ever towards a higher life. Life has innate energy, and will unfold itself
according to the law of its own being. Its law is progress towards its own possible
completeness: such completeness as its nature admits of. By this we distinguish
real life from seeming life. As you cut the stone and carve it, so it remains. But
cut a tree ; lop off its branches, strip it ; it will shoot and sprout. Only deadness
remains unaltered. Trees in winter all seem alike. Spring detects life. Man can
impart motion, and make automatons. Growth and power he cannot give. This
is the principle of all life. And in the higher life especially there is not only ex-
pansion but progress. The limpet on the rock only increases in volume. The
plant develops into the flower. The insect develops from the egg into the caterpillar,
grows, spins itself a coffin, and becomes hard and shelly. But the life goes on, and
it emerges a brilliant butterfly. (Ibid.) Hardihood of character : — Real life is
that which has individual, independent energy : it " bears fruit of itself." Observe
its hardihood. It needs no petting. It is no hot-house plant. Let the wild winds
of heaven blow upon it, with frost, scorching sun, and storms. Beligion is not for
a cloister, but for life, real hardy life. Observe Christ's religion, and compare it
with the fanciful religion of cloistered men. Religious books which speak of
fastidious, retiring, feeble delicacy. The best Christianity grows up in exposure.
The life of Christ Himself is an illustration of this. So too that of the apostles in
the world, and that of a Christian in the army. Again, it can be left to itself safely.
It will grow. Ministers need not torment themselves about the issue of their work,
for God gives the increase. It can be left : for it is God in the soul. When once
the farmer has sown, he can do little more except weed. {Ibid.) The «ar;— The
ear. Marked by vigour and beauty. Vigour : erect, with decision, fixed principles,
and views. Beauty. Describe the flowering petals, &c. Solemn season. What
promise 1 What thoughtfulness. Yet blight is more frequent now — prostration.
{Ibid.) Moral ripeness : — ^Full corn in the ear. Marked by maturity and ripeness.
It has no further stage of development on earth. It must die and sprout again.
But its present work is done. What is ripeness ? Completeness, all powers equally
cultivated. It is the completion of the principles, feelings, and tempers. This period
is also marked by humility and by joy. By humility ; the head hangs gracef oUy
CHAP. IV.] ST. MARK. 171
down in token of ripeness ; always so with men of great attainments. ** I am bni
a little child," said Newton, " picking up pebbles on the shore of the vast ocean of
truth." By joy ; the happy aspect of waving com I But its beauty is chiefly felt
Oy the thoughtful man. It is the calm deep joy of the harvest being safe, and
famine impossible. The food of a nation waves before him. (Ibid.) Growth in
the natural and in the spiritual world: — The analogy between growth in the
natural world and growth in the spiritual world must be maintained in its integrity,
with regard at once to spontaneity, slowness, and gradation. Growth in the spiritual
world as in the natural is spontaneous, in the sense that it is subject to
definite laws of the spirit over which man's will has small control. The fact is one
to be recognized with humility and thankfulness. With humility, for it teaches de-
pendence on God ; a habit of mind which brings along with it prayerfulness, and
which, as honouring to God, is more likely to insure ultimate success than a self-
reliant zeal. With thankfulness, for it relieves the heart of the too heavy burden
of an undefined, unlimited responsibility, and makes it possible for the minister of
the Word to do his work cheerfully, in the morning sowing the seed, in the evening
withholding not his hand ; then retiring to rest to enjoy the sound sleep of the
labouring man, while the seed sown springs and grows apace, he knoweth not how.
Growth in the spiritual world, as in the natural, is, further, a process which demands
time and gives ample occasion for the exercise of patience. Time must elapse even
between the sowing and the brairding ; a fact to be laid to heart by parents and
teachers, lest they commit the folly of insisting on seeing the blade at once, to the
probable spiritual hurt of the young intrusted to their care. Much lonerer time must
elapse between the brairding and the ripening. That a speedy sanctification is im-
possible we do not affirm ; but it is, we believe, so exceptional that it may be left
altogether out of account in discussing the theory of Christian experience. Once
more, growth in the spiritual world, as in the natural, is graduated ; in that region as
in this there is a blade, a green ear, and a ripe ear. {A. B. Bruce, D.D.) Imper-
ceptible growth : — You tell your child that this pine-tree out here in the sandy field
is one day going to be as large as that great sonorous pine that sings to every wind
in the wood. The child, incredulous, determines to watch and see whether the field-
pine really does grow and become as large as you say it will. So, the next morning,
he goes out and takes a look at it, and comes back and says, ** It has not grown a
bit." The next week he goes out and looks at it again, and comes back and says,
" It has not grown yet. Father said it would be a^ large as the pine-tree in the
wood, but I do not see any likelihood of its becoming so." How long did it take
the pine-tree in the wood to grow ? Two hundred years> Then men who lived
when it began to grow have been buried, and generations besides have come and
gone since then. And do you suppose that God's kingdom is going to grow so that
you can look at it, and see that it has grown during any particular day ? You
cannot see it grow. All around you are things that are growing, but that yon
cannot see grow. And if it is so with trees, and things that spring out of the
ground, how much more is it so with the kingdom of God ? That kingdom ii
advancing surely, though it advances slowly, and though it is invisible to us. . - .
You cannot see it, even if you watch for it ; but there it is ; and if, after a while,
you go and look at it, you will be convinced that it has been advancing, by the
results produced. You will find that things have been done, though you could not
see them done. Men are becoming better the world over, though you cannot trace
the process by which they are becoming better. Christ's kingdom goes forward
from age to age, though you cannot discern the steps bv which it is going forward.
While men, as individuals, pass off from the stage of life, God's work does not stop.
{H. W. Beecher.) The law of growth in the kingdom of God :— I. In the first
place, we shall see that we ought never to be discouraf^ed in a true Christian work,
of whatever kind, by what seems a slow growth. II. We may see that we are never
to be discouraged in our efforts for Christ's kingdom by adverse circumstances ;
nor by any unexpected combination of these, and their prolonged operation. III.
Let us remember that good influences are linked to good issues in this world, as
the seed to its fruitage; and that so every effort for the good of mankind, through
the kingdom of Christ, shall have its meet result. IV. Let us remember, too, as a
thing which illustrates all the rest, that God is within and behind all forces that
tend to enlarge and perfect His kingdom, as He is beneath the physical forces which
bring harvest in its season, and set on the springing seed its coronal. He never
forsakes a true work for Himself, and is certain to carry it to ultimate success. V.
Let us remember what the glory of the harvest shall be in this developing kingdom
172 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. it.
of God ; and in view of that let na constantly labour with more than fidelity, with
an eager enthuBiasm that surpasses all obstacles, makes duty a privilege, and trans-
mutes toil into joy I (R. S, Storrs, D.D.) The unfolding seed: — ^What a
wonderful thing is the germination of a seedl Wiiat scalpel so keen as to lay
bare, what microscope so searching as to detect, that subtle force hidden in the
elementary initial cell, which we vaguely call the principle of life ? Yet there it is,
lying in solemn mystery, ready to burst forth into vigour whenever the conditions
of life are fulfilled. To the thoughtful man there is something inexpressively mar-
vellous in this quickening of the seed. This is why botany is a more wonderful
science than astronomy, the violet a sublimer thing than Alcyone. All that the
scientist can do is to trace sequences ; he cannot explain the initial force. He can
describe the plant; he cannot expound the plant. The seed springeth np and
groweth, he knoweth not how. If he could explain it, he would be a philosopher
indeed. In this particular, at least, the parable in Mark iv. 26-29 is fitly styled,
*' The parable of the seed growing secretly." Again : Not the least wonderful of
the phenomena of plant growth is this: it is, at least apparently, automatic.
"The earth yieldeth fruit of herself." It is the echo of the divine dixit on the
third day of the creative week : *• Let the earth bring forth plants ; and the earth
brought forth plants." Not that the soil is the source of vegetation — it is only the
Bphere of vegetation ; not that the soil is the sire of the plant — it is only, so to
speak, the matrix of the plant. Nevertheless, so far as appearances go, it does seem
as though the soil were a thing of life, bringing forth fruit of herself. There lies
the seed buried in the ground. It needs no one to come and touch its pent-up
potentialities. It springs up independently of man. True, it is for man to plant
the seed, and supply conditions of growth. But it is not for man to cause the seed
to germinate or to fructify. The process, so far as man is concerned, is strictly
automatic. Verily, the plant does seem to be a living person, self-conscious
and self-regulating. But the processes of vegetation are not only mysterious and
automatic, they are also gradual. The kernel does not become the fidl com in the
ear in an instant. In the case of cereals, months intervene between the sowing
and the reaping ; in the case of fruit trees, years intervene between the planting
and the gathering. Nature, at least in the sphere of life and growth, does nothing
by leaps. The processes of vegetation are also as orderly as they are gradual!
They follow each other in due and regular succession : first the blade, then the ear,
then the full com in the ear. The kernel does not become the plump golden com
except by way of the blade. And all these processes issue in fruit. The harvest is
bat the unfolded seed, unfolding in orderly succession along the axis of growth ; and
the axis has as its purpose fruit. It is the very nature of the growth, the very law
of the seed, to unfold and culminate in crop. And now our farmer comes again into
view. Having sown the seed, he went away, confidently leaving it to its own
inherent forces. But now that the fruit has ripened, he reappears, and, putting in
bis sickle, he shouts : " Harvest home 1 " Such is the parable of the unfolding
seed. And now let us ponder the meaning of the parable. In other words, let us
trace some of the analogies between the unfolding seed and the unfolding kingdom
of God and Christianity. I. The growth of Christianity is mystebious. As the
seed springs up and grows, we know not how, so it is with the kingdom of God.
Take, for example, the very beginning of Christianity, the miraculous conception
n Nazareth. Who is there that can understand it ? Incomparably more mysterious
is it than the germination of any seed. Or take the problem of the growth of
Christianity — I mean the genuine, original Christianity, truth as it is in Jesus.
Once, like a grain of mustard seed, it was the smallest of seeds ; but now it has
become the largest of herbs, overshadowing with its blessed canopy that fairest
portion of the world which we fondly call Christendom. But how came it thus to
spread ? Because the doctrine of the cross has been preached. And the doctrine
of the cross is to the wise men of this world, in an eminent sense, foolishness.
Who will explain this mystery, namely, that the foolishness of God is wiser than
the wisdom of man, the weakness of God stronger than the strength of men ? How
elaborately the solution of this problem has been undertaken, and how wretched
the failure, is strikingly seen in the famous fifteenth chapter of Gibbon's " Decline
ftnd Fall of the Roman Empire.*' Or take the growth of Christianity in the case of
any individual soul. How secret and underground is the process ! How subtle the
workings of the Divine life within 1 The Christian is a mystery even to himself.
Hii life is a life hid with Christ in God. U. Again : As the seed obows auto-
:iT, the earth yielding fruit of herself, so obows the kingdom or Gon,
CHAP. IV.] ST. MARK. 171
Christianity is in its own inherent nature self-vital and self-evolving. See how
like a thing of life it is. Behold its wondrously absorbing power, subsidizing to
its own purposes, and assimilating into its own growing structure, whatever there if
of worth in learning, or wealth or influence, or statesmanship, or sect, or providences.
III. The kingdom of God, like the seed which grows ORADUAiiLY, stage by stage,
does not burst forth full-grown, like panoplied Minerva from the cloven brow of
Jove. See how slow has been the growth of Christendom, taken as a matter of
geography. Nearly two millenniums have rolled away since the heavenly Sower
declared that His field was the world ; and yet by far the larger part of that field
is still heathen, never as yet sown with the heavenly seed. Again: See how
gradual has been the growth in respect to the moral character of Christendom.
More than eighteen centuries have swept away since the Lord of the kingdom pro-
nounced His Beatitudes, and yet there are still in His Church the proud, and the
censorious, and the avaricious, and the quarrelsome, and the revengeful. Never-
theless, for let us be just, there has been real growth. We have seen idolatry
shaken, slavery abolished, intemperance checked, monopoly curbed, woman
emancipated, brotherhood asserted, war preparing to go into perpetual exile. But
how tedious has been the growth. In like manner, how slow is the growth in the
case of each individual Christian. How slow this unfolding along the axis of
Christ's character I In this is seen the immense advantage of early piety, for it
takes a long, long time to unfold into the full-grown man, even the measure of the
stature of the fulness of Christ. IV. Just as the seed does not leap instantly or
whimsically into the fruit, but unfolds itself in ordebly succession — first the
tender blade, then the swelhng ear, then the ripe grain in the ear — so it is with the
seed ol the kingdom, or God's truth. This is true in respect to doctrine. First
Athanasius, the exponent of the doctrine of Christ ; then Augustine, the exponent
of the doctrine of Man ; then Anselm, the exponent of the doctrine of Grace ; then
Luther, the exponent of the doctrine of Faith ; even faith in that Divine Christ whose
grace saves sinful man. Nor has the growth, or advancing order of due succession,
ceased. The problem of this present age is the doctrine of the Church, or what
constitutes the true body of Christ. And even now we see faint glimmers of the
final doctrine — the parousia, or the doctrine of last things. And all this is in due
succession ; advancing from the Christ who saves to the heaven which is the issue
of His saving. And this law of orderly unfolding is equally true in respect to per-
sonal character. Do not be so unphilosophical, then, as to look for the full-bearded
grain of saintliness preceding the blade of youthful piety ; the ripe fruits of the
Spirit clustered around the subterranean root. First little children ; then young
men ; then fathers. But there is one more likeness of the kingdom of God to the
seed. v. As the unfolding seed has fruit fob its issue, so it is with the seed of the
kingdom, or truth as it is in Jesus. When the fruit is ripe, straightway he putteth
forth the sickle, because the harvest is come. Christianity means something more
than sowing : it also means reaping. Do not be over-anxious. Christian responsi-
bility does have its limits. Beware of Uzziah's sin of distrust. Plant faithfully
the seed, and then go trustfully away. (G. D. Boardmarij D.D.)
Vers. 80, 32. It Is like a grain of mustard seed. — The parable of tlu mustard
teed : — In the parable before us, the unity of the kingdom becomes conspicuous, the
individuality of its members subordinate. The figure is changed accordingly. •• The
kingdom of heaven is like to a grain of mustard seed which a man took and sowed
in his field ; which indeed is the least of all seeds ; but when it is grown, it is the
greatest among herbs, and becometh a tree." The kingdom is a tree ; its subjects
are as birds sheltering under its shadow. As it grows and spreads out its branches,
it is shown that it has been planted by God for the spiritual good of men. The
kingdom here appears as an organic whole, a source of blessing for all who come
under its shade. Taking the illustration in its earliest stages, we must have regard
not only to the " grain of mustard seed," but also to the presence and action of the
man who " took it and sowed it in his field." That the agent in sowing this grain
of seed is the Son of Man, admits of no doubt. The Saviour is not here represented
by the tree ; for then would His disciples be the branches, as in the fifteenth chapter
of John's Gospel. He is the Man who sowed His seed in His field. Our Lord having
thus a distinct place in the parable, we are precluded from thinking of the tree ap. «*
symbol for Christ Himself, and afterwards for His people collectively as His repre-
sentatives on the earth. Further, we are prevented from seeing here any allusion
to the lowliness of the Saviour's birth, or the feebleness of His infancy, understood
174 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. iv.
by Bome to be implied in the image of the little seed. The incongruity of the
description, ** the least of all seeds," as attributed to the Divine Eedeemer, is so
glaring as to warn us against such methods of interpretation. The kingdom is here
represented as something to which men come, and in coming to which they receive
shelter and comfort. At first sight this might seem to point to the Church, as the
outward manifestation of the kingdom — a view which might have been accepted, had
the branches of the tree represented the members of the Church. But when the
members are not the branches, but are sheltered among the branches, something
distinct from the Church seems intended. Both in this parable, and in that of the
leaven, the reference is clearly to the truth of the kingdom, as in the parable of the
sower the seed is the Word of the kingdom. This parable is concerned with the
outward exhibition of the truth ; the leaven, with the inward and hidden application
of it. The kingdom of heaven is a kingdom of truth ; this truth is displayed to the
world in outward manifestation, and also applied to ihe souls of men as an unseen
influence. We have accordingly two parables : the one representing the visible, the
other the hidden, operation of the truth revealed in Jesus. The truth of the gospel
— the truth as to the pardoning mercy and renewing grace provided in Jesus, was as
a very little seed, planted in the earth by the Messiah, and that so quietly that the
act hardly attracted the attention of the world. The significance of the act was not
understood even by those who observed it. To the future was entrusted the discovery
of the importance for the world of this little seed. It was destined to spring up and
attain a great stature, spreading itself forth on every side, attracting attention all
around. {Dr. Calderwood.) An encouraging parable : — No doubt other figures
might have been chosen in abundance, more suggestive of the great after-develop-
ment of the kingdom of Christ — such forest-trees, e.p., as the oak of Bashan or
cedar of Lebanon ; but the acorn and cone were both far less adapted to represent
the littleness of its initial state. The mustard was probably the smallest seed from
which so large a shrub or tree was known to grow. ... It is not without a purpose
that the contrast between the first beginning of His kingdom and its expected future
should have been put before the apostles in such a striking form. The parables
which had preceded it must have had a most depressing effect upon their minds.
They showed that of the seed sown in men's hearts, three parts would be lost to one
saved ; and that the field carefully planted with the best of seeds too often mocked
all the husbandman's hopes of a goodly crop by a simultaneous growth of noxious
weeds. Well then might this parable be spoken to encourage them in their despond-
ency. No doubt the main object of the parable was simply to predict the future
increase of the kingdom ; but there is surely a side-lesson to be learned from the
natural properties of the mustard- seed — from its internal heat and pungency, and
from the fact that it must be bruised ere it yield its best virtues. Its inherent
stimulating force finds its parallel in the quickening vitality and vigour derived from
the indwelling of the Holy Spirit ; and the necessity of crushing it is no inapt figure
of the principle which has been embodied in the familiar proverb, " The blood of
the martyrs is the seed of the Church." {H. M. Luckock, D.D.) The mustard
plant : — As I was riding across the plain of Akka, on the way to Carmel, I perceived,
at some distance from the path, what seemed to be a little forest or nursery of trees.
I turned aside to examine them. On coming nearer, they proved to be an extensive
field of the plant (mustard) I was so anxious to see. It was then in blossom, full
grown, in some cases six, seven, and nine feet high, with a stem or trunk an inch
or more in thickness, throwing out branches on every side. I was now satisfied in
part. I felt that such a plant might well be called a tree, and, in comparison with
the seed producing it, a great tree. But still the branches, or stems of the branches,
were not very large, nor, apparently, very strong. Can the birds, I said to myself,
rest upon them? Are they not too slight and flexible? Will they not bend or
break beneath the superadded weight? At that very instant, as I stood and
revolved the thought, lo ! one of the fowls of heaven stopped in its flight through the
air, alighted down on one of the branches, which hardly moved beneath the shock,
and then began, perched there before my eyes, to warble forth a strain of the richest
music. All my doubts were now charmed away. I was delighted at the incident.
It seemed to me at the moment a if I enjoyed enough to repay me for all the trouble
of the whole journey. {H. B. Hackett, D.D.) Small beginnings: — Some few
monks came into Brittany in ages past, when that country was heathen. They
built a rude shed in which to dwell, and a chapel of moor stones, and then prepared
to till the soil. But, alas 1 they had not any wheat. Then one spied a robin red-
breast sitting on a cross they had set up, and from his beak dangled an ear of wheat
CHAP, iv.] ST. MARK, 175
They drove the bird away, and secured the grain, sowed it, and next year had more;
sowed again, and so by degrees were able to sow large fields, and gather abundant
harvests. If you go now into Brittany, and wonder at the waving fields of golden
grain, the peasants will tell you all came from robin redbreast's ear of com. And
they have turned the redbreast's ear of com into a proverb. {S. Baring Gould^ M.A.)
The Church a$ an organization : — A prophecy which has been fulfilled to the letter.
In the course of little more than one century after it was uttered, there was not a
city of any size in the Roman Empire which had not its bishop, with his priests and
deacons preaching the Word of God, baptizing (and so admitting men into the new
kingdom), celebrating the Eucharist, and exercising discipline over the faithful. It
was not the spread of a philosophy, or of a system of opinions, or even of a gospel
only. It was the spread of an organization for purposes of rule and discipline, ol
exclusion of the unworthy, and of pastoral care over the worthy. And it went on
progressing and prospering till it became a great power in the world, though not of
it. For centuries emperors, kings, and people had to take it into account in every
department of government and civil policy. Its present weakness is a reaction
against its former abuse of its power when it had become secular, and failed to fulfil
some of the chief purposes of its institution. {M. F. Sadler.) The Church giving
rest and shelter : — In all ages the Church has afforded to men what the Lord foretold,
rest and shelter. No human philosophy has afforded any rest or refuge for the
wandering spirit. Only the Church has done this, and the Church has been able to
do this because the foundation of all her doctrine has been the Incarnation of her
Lord. She teaches the soul to look for the foundation of her hope, not into herself,
her frames and feehngs, but to the historical facts of the Incarnation, Death, and
consequent Eesurrection and Ascension of the etemal Son, together with the Church
system and sacramental means which are the logical outcome of that Incarnation ;
and because of this, and this only, she is an abiding refuge. {Ibid.) The seedling
of lona: — Far out in the western main, is a Httle island round which for
nearly half the year the Atlantic clangs his angry billows, keeping the handful
of inhabitants close prisoners. Most of it is bleak and barren ; but there is one
little bay rimmed round with silvery sand, and reflecting in its waters a slope of
verdure. Towards this bay one autumn evening, 1,300 years ago, a rade vessel
steered its course. It was a flimsy bark, no better than a huge basket of osiers
covered over with the skins of beasts ; but the tide was tranquil, and as the boatmen
plied their oars, they raised the voice of psalms. Skimming across the bay they
beached their coracle and stepped on shore — about thirteen in number. On the
green slope they built a few hasty huts and a tiny Christian temple. The freight of
that little ship was the gospel, and the errand of the saintly strangers was to tell
benighted heathen about Jesus and His love. From the favoured soil of Ireland
they had brought a grain of mustard seed, and now they sowed it in lona. In the
conservatory of their little church it throve, till it was fit to be planted out on the
neighbouring mainland. To the Picts with their tattoed faces, to the Druids peeping
and muttering in their dismal groves, the missionaries preached the gospel. That
gospel triumphed. The groves were felled, and where once they stood rose the house
of prayer. Planted out on the bleak moorland, the little seed became a mighty tree,
so that the hills of Caledonia were covered with the shade ; nor must Scotland ever
forget the seedling of lona, and the labours of Columba with his meek Culdees.
{James Hamilton^ D.D.) The growth of the little seed : — This suggests the treat-
ment we ourselves should give the truths of God. An acorn on the mantelpiece,
a dry bulb in a dark cupboard, a mustard-seed in your pocket or in a pill-box, won't
grow. So texts or truths in the memory are acorns on the shelf, seeds in the pill-
box. It is good to have them, but don't leave them there. Ponder over it till it
grows wonderful— till its meaning comes out, and you feel some amazement at its
unsurmised significance. Ponder it till, like the phosphorescent forms of vegetation,
the light of its expanding falls on other passages, and revelation is itself revealed.
{Ibid.) The small germ expanded : — This is a great encouragement for those who
are trying to find favour for any useful plan or good idea. As long as it remains in
your own mind it is the seed in the mustard-pod ; but cast it into the field, the gar-
den, it will grow. Thus John Pound's httle scapegrace, bribed by a hot potato to
come for his daily lesson, has multipHed into our Ragged Schools, with their thousand*
of teachers and myriads of scholars. Thus David Nasmith's notion of a house-to-
house visitation of the London poor has grown into those Town and City Missions
«rhich are the salt, the saving element, in our overcrowded centres. {Ibid.)
Spiritual growth : — Impressions growing into resolutions constitute conversion, or
176 THE BIBLICAL ILLU8TBAT0R, [ohap. iv.
the begmning of the Divine life in man. These impressions may appear insigmfi«
cant, but when they produce thought, and thought produces action, the result is so
great that it creates attention. I. Vitality. The small seed of the mustard is
brimful of Ufe. This we discover not by microscopical analysis, but by observing
the changes that are wrought, and the growth which follows. The gospel is the
power of God unto salvation. Divine thoughts are full of life because the Spirit of
God is in them. 11. Assimilation. The seed was sown, and when life reappeared,
the properties of the soil, the rain, the light, and the air, were assimilated to build
up the herb. in. Expansion. The statue does not grow. The mountain does not
expand. Growth is a quality of life only. The process is hidden, but expansion is
manifest. The roots spread in the earth, the branches in the air. The growth of
devotion is God- ward, that of usefulness man- ward. The power of the gospel creates
intellectual, moral, and social expansion. Christ in the heart enlarges its capacity
for purity, love, and goodness. " Be ye also enlarged." IV. Maturity. There are
ends to piety ; it is not a cycle eternally revolving in the same way, but a definite
action with definite results. The life of the believer steps forward, by slow degrees,
until it reaches the measure of the stature of Christ. There are initial conditions
of faith, but these make way for the stronger stages of entire consecration to God.
(Anon.) The growth of the kingdom : — I. The sinodom of heaven was small at
ITS ESTABLISHMENT. 1. Its numbors were limited. 2. Its subjects were destitute of
resources of a visible Mnd. 3. Its smallness only disguised its real resources. The
Church's strength is not to be judged of by sense. U. In the end it shall
BE veby great. It soon grew among the Jews — was enlarged to embrace the
Gentiles — was soon spread into all the world — is destined to a great enlarge-
ment— ^its magnitude will appear at the last day. {Expository Discournes.) The
design of the parable is obvious; the underlying thought is simple and single.
A little germ and a large result, a small commencement and a conspicuous growth,
an obscure and tiny granule followed by a vigorous vegetation, the " least of
all seeds," and "the greatest of all herbs," such is the avowed contrast of the
parable. Is it not so when we glance at the history of real religion ? I. In the
WORLD. II. In COMMUNITIES. III. In the individual soul. {James Hamilton^ D.D.)
The gospel originally small and ultimately great : — The gist of the representation
lies in the largeness of the produce as compared with the smallness of the original.
Of course, had our Lord merely wished to show that the gospel, in its maturity and
efflorescence, would overtop other systems and overshadow the creation, he might
have led His hearers into the forests of the earth, and selected some monarch of the
woods. Even in Eastern countries the mustard plant, though it reaches a size and
strength unknown in our own land, would not be used as a symbol by a speaker
whose object was to shadow stateliness and dominion. But, when you compare the
size of the seed with the size of the shrub — and wish to illustrate the production of
great things from small — it would seem probable that in the whole range of the
vegetable kingdom there is not to be found a more apposite image. The degree in
whioh the shrub expands in size as compared with the seed, is, perhaps, greater in
the ease of the mustard plant than in any other instance. And in this, we again
say, must be thought to lie the gist of the parable — the chief object of Christ being
to show that there never had been so mighty a consummation following on so
inconsiderable a beginning ; that never had there been so vast a disproportion
between a thing at its outset, and that same thing at its conclusion, as was to be
exhibited in the case of that kingdom of heaven, the setting up of which was His
business on earth. {H. Melvill^ Little seeds soul saving : — But to pass from
these general observations on the imagery drawn from the vegetable world to that
particular figure which Christ employs in our text. Observe, we pray you, the
minuteness of the seed, which is ordinarily first deposited by God's Spirit in man's
heart. If you examine the records of Christian biography, you will find, so far as
it is possible to search out such facts, that conversion is commonly to be traced to
inconsiderable beginnings. We believe, for example, that proceeding on the prin-
ciple that He will honour what He has instituted, God ordinarily uses the preaching
of the gospel as His engine for gathering in His people. But then it is perhaps a
single sentence in a sermon, a text which is quoted, a remark to which, probably, if
jou had asked the preacher himself, he attached less consequence than to any other
part of his sermon — this is the seed, the inconsiderable grain, which makes its way
Into the heart of the unconverted hearer. We just wish that a book could be com-
piled, registering the sayings, the words, which, falling from the lips of preachers in
different ages, have penetrated that thick coating of indifference and prejudice which
CHAP. IT.] ST, MARK. 177
lies naturally on every man's heart, and reached the soil in which vegetation is
possible. We are quite persuaded that you would not find many whole sermons in
such a book, not many long pieces of elaborate reasoning, not many protracted
demonstrations of human danger and human need ; we have a thorough belief that
the volume would be a volume of little fragments, that it would be made up of
simple sentiments and brief statements ; and that, in the majority of instances, a
few syllables would constitute that element of Christianity which gained a lodgment
in the soul. {Ibid.) The maxims of human philosophy not so productive as Divine
truth : — We shall not enlarge further on the parable as sketching Christ's religion in
its dominion over the individual. We can only remark, in passing, that none of the
maxims of human philosophy have shown themselves capable of yielding such
produce as we thus trace to the seed of a solitary text. There is much truth and
beauty in many of those sayings with which writers on ethics have adorned their
pages ; but the most weighty proverbs that ever issued from the porch of the
academy, and the most sententious maxims which lecturers on morals ever delivered
to their people, have always failed to work anything approaching to that renovation
of nature which can distinctly be traced to some gospel truth quoted with authority
from God. Take the result of a hiding in the heart a sentence which asserts the
excellence of virtue, and one which sets forth God's love in the gift of His Son.
Now sentences may be likened unto seeds, not only because both are small, but
because, if rightly planted and watered, and developed, they are capable of producing
fruit in the life and conversation. But who, unless ignorant of facts, or determined
to be deceived, would assert the holiness of the best heathenism to be comparable
to the holiness of Christianity, or who that has ever tried theory, by the touchstone
of experience, would declare, that a man who was a cultivator of virtue, because
excellent in its nature, will ever reach as high a standard of morality as one who,
having hope in Christ, seeks to " purify himself even as Christ is pure ? " We give
it as a truth, which the history of the world presses forward to substantiate, that no
maxims, except Scriptural maxims, have been long efficacious in withholding man
from vice, or have ever nerved him to the striving after a high-toned and elevated
morality. And if, then, we must admit that the sayings of a sound moral philosophy
may be figured by seeds, because they contain elements which, under due culture,
may be expanded into something like righteousness of deportment, we still contend
that when the amount even of possible produce is contrasted with the original grain,
the tree which, under the most favourable circumstances, can spring from the seed,
and that seed itself — there are no sayings, but those of Christianity, just as there
are no particles, but those of Divine grace, which deserve to be compared with the
grain of mustard seed; for in no case but that, we must believe, would there be such
disproportion between what was cast into the soil of the heart, and that spreading
over of the whole district of the life, as to warrant the employment of the imagery
whose design it has been our effort to delineate. {Ibid.) The visible growth of
the gospel : — Christ's kingdom also grows outwardly and visibly as the hidden
mustard seed grows into a great tree. Christ not only taught new truth, but He also
founded a new society, which is to be like a living, growing tree. That society is
sometimes called the Visible Church, and it is very visible in our day, quite as
visible as the biggest garden tree is among garden plants. (J. Wells.) Christ's
religion a refuge for all : — As the tree is for every bird from any quarter of heaven
that wishes its shelter, so Christ's religion is for all sorts of people. The religion
of the Chinese is only for the Chinese ; the religion of Mahomed is only for those
who live in warm countries ; a Hindoo loses his religion by crossing the seas ; but
the religion of Jesus of Nazareth is for people of every class, clime, and nation. It
is like the tree that offers lodging to all the birds of the air. {Ibid.) Fiery
energy : — Darius sent to Alexander the Great a bag of sesame seed, symbolizing
the number of his array. In return, Alexander sent a sack of mustard seed, show-
ing not only the numbers but the fiery energy of his soldiers. {D'Herbelot.)
Building and growing : — To see the stateliest pile of building filling the space which
before was empty, makes an appeal to the imagination : that kind of increase we
seem to understand; stone is added to st'one by the will and toil of man. But when
we look at the deeply-rooted and wide-branching tree, and think of the tiny seed
from which all this sprang without human will or toil, but by an internal vitality of
its own, we are confronted by the most mysterious and fascinating of all things, the
life that lies unseen in nature. {Marcus Dods.) The mustard seed and leaven : —
The parable of the grain of mustard seed must be taken in close connection with
that of the leaven, and both are meant to illustrate the small beginnings, the sileal
12
178 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. it.
growth, and the final victory of the grace of God in the hnman soul. But they
belong to different points of view. The one is extensive, the other intensive. The
parable of the grain of mustard seed shows us the origin and the development of
the kingdom of God, in communities and in the world : the parable of the leaven
shadows forth its unimpeded influence in the soul of each separate man. {Arch-
deacon Farrar.) All great movements have had trivial comm£ncements : — Look at
history, and see how true the doctrine is, not only of the kingdom of heaven, but of
every other power that has really held sway among men. In almost all cases the
great, the permanent work has been done, not by those who seemed to do very much,
but by those who seemed to do very little. Our Lord's founding of the Church was
but the most Btriking instance of a universal rule. He seemed to all outside
spectatorfl to do almost nothing. The Koman rulers hardly knew of His name.
What was He doing ? He was sowing the seed ; the seed whose fruit was not yet,
whose perfect fjuit was not to be gathered, as it has since turned out, for many
centuries ; the seed which seemed small and perishable, but was certain to grow
into a great tree. All the greatest work has been done both before and after, not
often by producing immediate results, but by sowing seeds. So have sciences all
grown, not from brilliant declarations to the world, but from patient labour, and
quiet thought, and language addressed to the few who think. So has all growth in
Eolitios always begun in the secret thoughts of men who have found the truth, and
ave committed it to books or to chosen learners. The true powers of human life are
contained in those seeds, out of which alone comes any leal and permanent good.
(Bp, Temple.)
Yen. 33, 34. Sat without a parable spake He not nnto thBm.-~Chrisft economy
of teaching ;— Not as He was able to have spoken ; He could have expressed Him-
self at a higher rate than any mortal can ; He could have soared to the clouds ; He
could have knit such knots they could never untie. But He would not. He dehghted
to speak to His hearers' shallow capacities (John xvi. 12). (r. Brooks.) Christ's
method of teaching : — With matter Divine and manner human, our Lord descended
to the level of the humblest of the crowd, lowering Himself to their understandings,
and winning His way into their hearts by borrowng His topics from familiar cir-
cumstances and the scenes around Him. Be it a boat, a plank, a rope, a beggar's
rags, an imperial robe, we would seize on anything to save a drowning man ; and in
His anxiety to save poor sinners, to rouse their fears, their love, their interest, to
make them understand and feel the truth, our Lord pressed everything — art and
nature, earth and heaven — into His service. Creatures of habit, the servants if not
the slaves of form, we invariably select our text from some book of the Sacred
Scriptures. He took a wider, freer range ; and, instead of keeping to the unvarying
routine of text and sermon with formal divisions, it were well, perhaps, that we
sometimes ventured to follow His example ; for may it not be that to the natural-
ness of their addresses and their striking out from the beaten paths of texts and
sermons, to their plain speaking and home-thrusts, to their direct appeals and
homespun arguments, our street and lay preachers owe perhaps not a little of their
power ? Our Lord found many a topic of discourse in the scenes around Him ;
even the humblest objects shone in His hands, as I have seen a fragment of broken
glass or earthenware, as it caught the sunbeam, light up, flashing like a diamond.
With the stone of Jacob's Well for a pulpit, and its water for a text. He preached
salvation to the Samaritan woman. A little child, which He takes from its
mother's side, and holds up blushing in His arms before the astonished audience, is
Hia text for a sermon on humility. A husbandman on a neighbouring height
between Him and the sky, who strides with long and measured steps over the field
he sows, supplies a text from which He discourses on the gospel and its effects on
different clasbes of hearers. In a woman baking ; in two women who sit by some
cottage door grinding at the mill ; in an old, strong fortahce perched on a rock,
whence it looks across the brawling torrent to the ruined and roofless gable of a
house swept away by mountain floods — Jesus found texts. From the birds that
sung above His head, and the lihes that blossomed at His feet. He discoursed on
the eare of God — these His text, and Providence His theme. (T. Guthrie,
DJ).) Illustrating : — I have generally found that the most intellectual
auditors prefer to hear a simple scriptural and spiritual preaching. The late
Judge McLean, of the United States Supreme Court once said to me, " I was glad
to hear you give that solemn personal incident in your discourse last night.
MinlBterB now-a-days are getting above telling a story in a sermon ; but I like it."
«HAP. IT.] ST. MARK, 179
{T. L. Cuyler.) " Likes " in a sermon ;— " Yon have no • likea * in your sermona,"
said Robert Hall to a brother minister ; " Christ taught that the kingdom of heaven
was ' like leaven,' tSrc. You tell us what things are, but never what they are like.**
Parables are more ancient than arguments. {Lord Bacon.) And when they were
alone. Christ alone with His disciples; or, the parable expounded: — I. Thb pab-
ABLBS A PUZZLE. It is Very striking that the very means of instruction should have
hid the truth, and even from His followers. The parables of Christ were sometimes
obscure and confounding to His foes ; that is not strange. Where there is no taste
or desire for instruction, the clearest and simplest lessons may be vain. It was a
judgment, but not an arbitrary and cruel one. It was a punishment which the
blinded deserved, and it was one which they inflicted upon themselves. Parables
were among the easiest and most interesting methods of instruction. They
addressed a variety of powers ; and thus were suited to a variety of minds, and a
variety of faculties in the same mind. But if the eye was at fault, and could not
see, or could not see aright, then the windows had no use ; and the means of light
conveyed no image, or a false one. There is often, and especially in moral matters,
more in the learner than the lessons. Parables would have been no judgment, if
there had been no obtuseness and perverseness in the hearers. It is harder to
understand how '• the disciples," who had some insight and sympathy, should have
been perplexed. But why did Christ employ a method which had the effect of con-
cealing what, if stated without a parable, they must have seen and appreciated at
oncer We are here, my brethren, right upon a great and blessed truth. The
parable taught minds by taxing them. It made truth plain to the thoughtful ; but
required sometimes more, sometimes less thought for its comprehension. It was a
way of teaching, but by calling out the desire and effort to learn. If a man only
heard it, the truth was hidden ; if he were bent on getting at its sense, the truth
became more plain and powerful by its means. To look at it was to see nothing ;
to look through it was to behold most beautiful and glorious things. ^ When it fell
upon a passive nature, it left no impression ; when it fell on one quick and active,
and in quest of truth, it reaUzed a blessed end. As soon as the disciples, failing to
apprehend Christ's sense, came to the prayer, " Declare unto ns the parable," they
had reached the highest end of teaching : they not only were in the way to know,
they were exercising the powers of knowledge. All things He does as well as says,
in this sense, are parables : they are intended to teach, but they teach in the way
of training ; they have in them an element of difficulty mercifully fitted to make
easy, an element of obscurity mercifully fitted to make clear. He wishes to excite,
to awaken the dormant and stimulate the sluggish ; to call out our powers ; not
only to bless us, but to bless us by quickening us ; not only to impart knowledge,
but make us knowing ; not only to enrich us with goodness and happiness, but to
enlarge our capacity for both. And a heaven on lighter terms would be a heaven
of smaller joy. II. The diffebent ways in which the pabables webe tbeated.
Some gaze upon the mystery scornfully or listlessly, others seek with deep anxiety
to have it solved. Difficulty offends or disheartens these, but stirs up those to
activity and zeal. Truth is often difficult. What is needful to salvation is within
the reach of all, for an inaccessible boon cannot be an indispensable blessing. But
truth of most sorts, as well as religious, is not unavoidable, and frequently it is hard
to get. And if we pass from what is to be known to what is to be done, from the
difficulty of apprehension to the difficulty of the performance, tne same kind of
remark applies, " Is there not a warfare to man upon the earth? " Is any promise
of good in other than the apocalyptic form, ♦* To him that overcometh will I give " f
III. The pbivatb solution of the pabables. When the multitude were sent away,
Matthew says that the disciples came to Jesus, requesting an explanation of Hu
teaching. This is not the only occasion mentioned (Matt. xv. 15), and we may be
sure there were many. They had the right, and availed themselves of it. And
there are now those who have access, so to speak, to the solitude of the Saviour.
Many only know Him in the world, and the face of day ; in His written word, in
His general providence; as the Teacher of crowds, as the Worker of wonders.
They might know Him otherwise. Had this multitude oared for His intimacy,
they might have had it. We, like the disciples, may be " alone," and alone with
Jesus. It is not necessary, in order to this, that we should be absent from men.
There is a sohtude of the flesh, and a sohtude of the spirit. Christ is the best
revelation of spiritual truth, its strongest evidence, and its only quickening force ;
and we may say of Him and Christianity, what Cowper says of God and Provi*
denoe —
" He is His own interpreter, and He will make it plain.**
180 TEE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap. iv.
Perhaps your parable is evil, the evil in the world, in yourselves. Christ has thli
explanation. And the same remark applies to duties. More faith in Him will
lighten the burden and ease the yoke, however hard and heavy. ** I can do all
things through Christ which strengtheneth me." He is model, motive, might of all
obedience ; and the life we live is His life, and we follow Him, and all we do is from
His love constraining us. There is a lesson for all. Some are painfully exercised
with doubts and difficulties "great upon" them. They "walk in darkness," ** a
darkness that may b« felt." Let me entreat such to *' come to Jesus in the house ; '*
to seek the secret Saviour. {A. J. Morris.)
Vers. 35-41. And the same day, when the eyen was come, He salth unto
them, Let us pass over unto the other side. — In the storm: — I. The influencb
OF DANGEB. It causcd the disciples to doubt the care of Christ Why is it we
doubt the Lord in seasons of danger ? 1. Imperfect knowledge of the Lord. 2.
Natural impatience. 3. Satanic temptations. U. The tolly of suspicion. It is
groundless. The truth is ratified, that God will not leave us to perish. Were it
not stated in such plain terms, we might infer as much from — 1. God's formet
dealings with ourselves and others. 2. The known character of the Lord. 8. The
relationship in which we stand to Him. III. The secret of XBANQUiLLrrY. 1.
Meditation. 2. Prayer. 3. Resignation. IV. The blessedness of holy con-
riDENCs. 1. It honours God. 2. It blesses our own souls afterward. If the
record had run thus, " And there arose a great storm, &c., but the disciples,
believing their Master would not suffer them to perish, watched Him until He
awoke. And when Jesus arose, He said, Great is your faith ; and He saved them,**
what joy would the memory have brought to their hearts in later years 1 3. Hereby
we obtain more speedy relief. Unbehef causes God to delay or deny (Matt. xiii. 68).
(R. A. Oriffin.) A great itorm and a great calm : — I. The first aspect of Christ'i
life presented to us in this wonderful passage of Scripture is His weabikess. 1. It
arose from incessant labour. 2. It arose from laborious work. II. The second
aspect of Christ's life brought before us is His best. We regard this sleeping of
Christ — 1. As an evidence of His humanity. 2. As an evidence of His trustfulness.
He cast Himself upon His Father's care, and was not afraid of Galilee's stormy
lake. 3. As an evidence of His goodness. He slept like one who had a good
conscience. UI. But all too soon was the best of Chbisi distubbed. "And
they awoke Him." How often was Christ's repose disturbed 1 Three things led to
the disturbance of Christ's rest : 1. A sudden and violent storm. 2. The danger of
the disciples. 3. The fears of the disciples. IV. Then followed ▲ OLOBiona
iiANXFEBTATioN OF THE FOWEB OF Chbist. 1. It WBs manifested in His authority
over nature. 2. It was manifested in His rebuke of the disciples. 3. It was mani-
fested in His evident superiority of character. " What manner of man is this ? "
He is the God-Man, who stands equal with God on the high level of Deity, and
equal with man on the low level of humanity. " He that hath seen Me, hath
seen the Father." {Joseph Hughei.) A picture of the Christian life : — This
narrative is a touching picture of the Christian life. Following its leadings, we
contemplate the Christian life in its beginning, in its progress, in its issue. I. The
BxoiNNiNO OF THE CHRISTIAN LIFE. Wc go out OH the waves of life and have
Christ for our leader in the days of our childhood; that is, where we have the
blessing of Christian parents and teachers, &o. Oh happy years of childlike faith I
How merciless they who could rob us of this faith. What have they to offer in its
place ? No ; we will not be robbed of it. In its nature and essence this childlike
faith is true and unchangeable ; but the garment by which it is covered, the veil it
carries over it, must be torn off. The childlike faith receives the Saviour in the
only vessel in which the child can receive the Divine — in the vessel of the feelings.
In manhood we have another vessel in which we can receive Him — the vessel of the
understanding. Not that we should loose Him from the vessel of the feelings as we
become men, but that our manhood should receive Him into the understanding as
well as into tiie heart. Our childlike faith has seen the Saviour as the little ship of
life glided over the smooth waters ; it has not yet learnt to know Him in the storm
and the tempest. It has known Hitti in His kindness and love ; He is not yet
revealed in His wisdom and power. II. The beginning of life passes by, and in the
progress of Ufe Christ slumbers in the soul, and is awakened by the stobm. That
beautiful childhke sense of faith slumbers — not universally, for there have been
favoured souls in whom Christ has never slumbered, who have retained their
ehi'lfiiyb faith to their ripe manhood. It is otherw^ao in times of conflict like these,
OHAP. IT.] ST, MARK. 181
It seems that in these troubled times, this childlike faith mast apparently die» t.e.,
must thiow off its veil when the storm rages, and rises in a new form. Even on
tlie sacred floor of the church the young Christian finds doubt, strife, and disunion,
and he doubts. The Lord awakes, and says, "... Canst thou believe 7 " and w«
answer, "... Lord, I believe ; help Thou mine unbelief." There is faith still,
though doubt may be ever so strong ; there is still an anchor firmly fastened in ^e
sanctuary of the breast. Faith slumbers, but is not dead. III. That will be the
issue if, instead of yielding, you wrestle. As you have known the Saviour earher in
His kindness and love, you will come to know Him in His wisdom and power. Lift
is a conflict. Some trifle with Ufe ; with them it is like playing with soap bubbles.
They have never looked the doubt earnestly m the face, to say nothing of the truth.
God will not send the noblest of His gifts to laggards : the door of truth closed
against those who would willingly enter is a solemn thought (Matt. xxv. 10, 11).
{Dr. Tholuch.) The disciples in the storm : — I. In the storm while peosecutino thb
Saviodb's command — teaching. 1. Implicit obedience does not exempt from trials.
Joseph, David, Daniel, St. Paul, &c. 2. Trials are not always punitive, but always
disciplinary. This trial was a test both in respect to faith and works, (a) Will
they beUeve that they will be saved ? (&) Will they go on in their line of duty f
II. In the stobm while Jesus was with them. 1. Jesus was exposed to tiie
same fury of the tempest, and to the same upheavals of the angry waves, (a) Was
there ever a storm in which Jesus was absent from His disciples ? 2. Though witii
His disciples. He was fast asleep, (a) A symbol of what frequently occurs. Let
every disciple remember that a sleeping Christ is not a dead Christ, {b) Though
asleep, He has not forgotten His disciples. III. In the stobm whilb Jebus was
WITH THEM, AND TET THEY HAD TO CBY TO HiM FOB DELIVEBANCB. 1. PrayOt IS
the disciples' privilege and duty at all times, especially in times of trial and peril.
2. The prayer that arises from a believing heart can never go imanswered. IV. In
THE STOBM DELIVEBED FBOM THE STOBM IN ANSWEB TO PBAYEB. 1. Chlist'S Divine
power was not affected by physical fatigue. 2. Jesus, touched by the cry of His
disciples, wields a power before which nothing can stand. V. Delivebancb fbom
THE STOBM A OBAND MOBAL powEB. 1. It cxcrcised a moral power, awakening
deeper reverence for Christ as Messiah. 2. Awakening greater awe for Christ as the
Son of God. (D. C. Hughes^ M.A.) God's storms : — They only measure Christ
aright, who are forced to carry to Him some great grief, and find by experience He
is great enough to save them. It is when men have weighed Him in Uie balances
of some great necessity, and found Him not wanting, that they believe in Him. So
the disciples are sent to school. Storm and danger are for the night to be their
schoolmasters, bringing them to Christ, not with wonder or service merely, but with
suppliant prayers. So starting, they get on their journey a little way, hoping, I
suppose, that an hour and a half will see them comfortably across ; when lo 1 this gale
breaks on them with the fury of a wild beast. They are stunned with its suddenness.
Doubtless in an instant the sa'* s lowered, oars are shipped, and carefully keeping
head to wind or giving way htt^nte it, they seek to avoid getting broadside on to the
waves in the dangerous troag^a of the sea. It is touching to see how they shrink
from waking Him. Pitiiul for His weariness, reverent to His dignity, they run
every risk they dare before presuming to disturb Him. Yet how confused they
must have felt. A sleeping Christ seems a contradiction. If Saviour of men, why
does He not rise to save Himself and them ? If He is ignorant of the storm, and
about to be drowned, how came His mighty works ? Such is life I The sea calm
— gleam of setting sun or rising stars reflected on the limpid surface ; no occasion
of solicitude disturbs the heart, and you are making good progress to some haven
of rest, when suddenly a storm of cares overwhelms the soul, and so batters and
agitates it that it is like to be drowned beneath their weight ; or a storm of grief
rises from some bereavement, and threatens to overwhelm aU faith or hope in God ;
or a storm of temptation assails and seems to make goodness impossible, and ruin
inevitable. And still Christ seems asleep. It seems as if He must be either igno-
rant or indifferent, and you do not know which of the two conclusions is sadder to
come to. Murmur not. Others have been in storms, and thought the Saviour
listless ; but He is never beyond the call of faith. (iJ. Olover.) Christ in trie
storm : — It is, then, no freak of fancy to see in this narrative an acted parable, if
you will, an acted prophecy. Again and again the Church of Christ has been all
but engulfed, as men might have deemed, in the billows; again and again the
storm has boen calmed by the Master, who had seemed for awhile to sleep. I.
Often has Chbistianity passed XHBOuaH the tboubled watebs of political oppos^
182 TRE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. iv.
TiON. During the first three centuries, and finally under Julian, the heathen Stat«
made repeated and desperate attempts to suppress it by force. Statesmen and
philosophers undertook the task of eradicating it, not passionately, but in the same
temper of calm resolution with which they would have approached any other well-
considered social problem. More than once they drove it from the army, from the
professions, from the public thoroughfares, into secrecy ; they pursued it into the
vaults beneath the palaces of Eome, into the catacombs, into the deserts. It seemed
as if the faith would be trodden out with the hfe of so many of the faithful : but he
who would persecute with effect must leave none aHve. The Church passed through
these fearful storms into the calm of an ascertained supremacy ; but she had scarcely
done so, when the vast poUtical and social system which had so long oppieeacd her,
and which by her persistent suffering she had at length made in some sense her
own, itself began to break up beneath and around her. The barbarian invasions
followed one upon another with merciless rapidity ; and St. Augustine's lamenta-
tions upon the sack of Rome express the feelings with which the higher minds in
the Church must have beheld the completed humihation of the Empire. Christi-
anity had now to face, not merely a change of civil rulers, but a fundamental recon-
Btmction of society. It might have been predicted with great appearance of
probability that a religious system which had suited the enervated provincials of
the decaying empire would never make its way among the free and strong races
that, amid scenes of fire and blood, were laying the foundations of feudalism. In
the event it was otherwise. The hordes wlach shattered the work of the Cflesars
learnt to repeat the Catholic Creed, and a new order of things had formed itself,
when the tempest of Mahomedanism broke upon Christendom. Politically speak-
ing, this was perhaps the most threatening storm through which the Christian
Church has passed. There was a time when the soldiers of that stunted and im-
moral caricature of the Revelation of the One True God, which was set forth by the
false prophet, had already expelled the very Name of Christ from the country of
Cyprian and Augustine ; they were masters of the Mediterranean ; they had desolated
Spain, were encamped in the heart of France, were ravaging the sea-board of Italy.
It was as if the knell of Christendom had sounded. But Christ, '• if asleep on a
pillow in the hinder part of the ship," was not insensible to the terrors of Hia
servants. He rose to rebuke those winds and waves, as by Charles Martel in one
ftge, and by Sobieski in another; it is now more than two centuries since Islam inspired
its ancient dread. The last like trial of the Church was the first French Revolution.
In that vast convulsion Christianity had to encounter forces which for awhile seemed
to threaten its total suppression. Yet the men of the Terror have passed, as the
Cffisars had passed before them ; and like the Csesars, they have only proved to the
world that the Church carries vrithin her One who rules the fierce tempests in which
human institutions are wont to perish. II. PoUtical dangers, however, do but touch
the Church of Christ outwardly ; but she rests upon the intelligent assent of her
children, and she has passed AOAIN and again THB0>1i»H the storms op INTELLECTUAIi
OPPOSITION OB REVOLT. Scarcely had she steered fcitt) from the comparatively still
waters of Galilean and Hellenistic devotion than she ha 1 to encounter the pitiless
dialectic, the subtle solvents, of the Alexandrian philosophy. It was as if in antici-
pation of this danger that St. John had already baptized the Alexandrian modifica-
tion of the Platonic Logos, moulding it so as to express the sublimest and most
central truth of the Christian Creed ; while, in the Epistle to the Hebrews, Alex-
andrian methods of interpretation had been adopted in vindication of the gospel.
But to many a timid believer it may well have seemed that Alexandrianism would
prove the grave of Christianity, when, combining the Platonic dialectics with an
Eclectic Philosophy, it endeavoured in the form of Arianism to break up the Unity
of the Godhead by making Christ a separate and inferior Deity. There was a day
when Arianism seemed to be triumphant; but even Arianism was a less
formidable foe than the subtle strain of infidel speculation which penetrated
the Christian intellect in the very heart of the Middle Ages, that is to say,
at a time when the sense of the supernatural had diffused itself throughout
the whole atmosphere of human thought. This unbelief was the product some-
times of a rude sensuality rebelling against the precepts of the gospel ; sometimes
of the culture divorced from faith which made its appearance in the twelfth century ;
sometimes, specificaUy, of the influence of the Arabian philosophy from Spain ;
sometimes of the vast and penetrating activity of the Jewish teachers. It revealed
itself constantly nnder the most unexpected circumstances. We need not suppose
that the great Order of the Templars was guilty of tb« infidelity that, along with crimef
tHAP. IV.] ST. MARK. 18t
of the gravest character, was laid to their charge ; a study of their proceBsea is their
best acquittal, while it is the condemnation of their persecutors. But unbelief most
have been widespread in days when a prominent soldier, John of Soissons, oonld
declare that " all that was preached concerning Christ's Passion and Besurrection
\ as a mere farce ; " when a pious bishop of Paris left it on record that he *• died
believing in the Eesurrection, with the hope that some of his educated but seeptical
friends would reconsider their doubts ; " when that keen observer, as Neander terms
him, Hugh of St. Victor, remarks the existence of a large class of men whose faith
consisted in nothing eke than merely taking care not to contradict the faith —
" quibus credere est solum fidei non contradicere, qui consuetudine vivendi magis,
quam virtute credendi fideles nominantur." The prevalance of such unbehef is
attested at once by the fundamental nature of many of the questions discussed at
the greatest length by the Schoolmen, and by the unconcealed anxieties of the great
spiritual leaders of the time. After the Middle Ages came the Renaissance. This
is not the time or place to deny the services which the Renaissance has rendered to
the cause of human education, and indirectly, it may be, to that of Christianity.
But the Renaissance was at first, as it appeared in Italy, a pure enthusiasm for
Paganism, for Pagan thought, as well as for Pagan art and Pagan hterature. And
the Reformation, viewed on its positive and devotional side, was, at least in the
South of Europe, a reaction against the spirit of the Renaissance : it was the Pa-
ganism, even more than the indulgences of Leo X., which aUenated the Germans.
The reaction against this Paganism was not less vigorous within the Church of
Rome than without it ; Ranke has told us the story of its disappearance. Lastly,
there was the rise of Deism in England, and of the Encyclopedist School in
France, followed by the pure Atheism which preceded the Revolution. It might
well have seemed to fearful men of that day that Christ was indeed asleep to wake
no more, that the surging waters of an infidel philosophy had well-nigh filled the
ship, and that the Church had only to sink with dignity. III. Worse than the
storms of political violence or of intellectual rebellion, have been the tempests of
INSURGENT IIIIIORAIJTT THROUGH WHICH THE ChURCH HAS PASSED. In the agCS of
persecution there was less risk of this, although evan then there were scandals.
The Epistles to the Corinthians reveal beneath the very eyes of the Apostle a state
of moral corruption, which, in one respect at least, he himself tells us, had fallen
below the Pagan standard. But when entire populations pressed within the fold,
and social or political motives for conformity took the place of serious and strong
conviction in the minds of multitudes, these dangers became formidable. What
must have been the agony of devout Christians in the tenth century, when appoint-
ments to the Roman Chair itself were in the hands of three unprincipled and hcen-
tious women ; and when the life of the first Christian bishop was accounted such
that a pilgrimage to Rome involved a loss of character. Well might the austere
Bruno exclaim of that age that " Simon Magus lorded it over a Church in which
bishops and priests were given to luxury and fornication : '* well might Cardinal
Baronius suspend the generally laudatory or apologetic tone of his Annals, to
observe that Christ must have in this age been asleep in the ship of the Church to
permit such enormities. It was a dark time in the moral life of Christendom : but
there have been dark times since. Such was that when St. Bernard could allow
himself to describe the Roman Curia as he does in addressing Pope Engenius III. ;
such again was the epoch which provoked the work of Nicholas de Cleargis, " On
the Ruin of the Church." The passions, the ambitions, the worldly and political
interests which surged around the Papal throne, had at length issued in the schism
of Avignon ; and the writer passionately exclaims that the Church had fallen pro-
portiouately to her corruptions, which he enumerates with an unsparing precision.
During the century which preceded the Reformation, the state of clerical discipline
in London was such as to explain the vehemence of popular reaction ; and if in the
last century there was an absence of grossness, such as had prevailed in previous
ages, there was a greater absence of spirituality. Says Bishop Butler, charging the
clergy of the Diocese of Durham in 1751 — ' * As different ages have been distinguished
by different sortt* of particular errors and vices, the deplorable distinction of ours is
aji avowed scorn of religion \n some, and a growing disregard to it in the generality."
That disregard, bemg in its essence moral, would hardly have been arrested by the
cnltivateil reasoners, who were obliged to content themselves with deistio premises
in their defences of Christianity : it did yield to the fervid appeals of Whitefield and of
Wesley. With an imperfect idea of the real contents and genms of the Christian
Creed, and with almost no iden at all of its majestic relations to history and to
184 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap, tf,
thought, these men struck a chord for which we may well be grateful. They awoke
Christ, sleeping in the conscience of England ; they were the real harbingers of a
day brighter than their oun. IV. For if the question be asked, how the Church ol
Christ has surmounted these successive dangers, the answer is, by the appeal of
PRAYER. She has cried to her Master, who is ever in the ship, though, as it may
seem, asleep upon a pillow. The appeal has often been made impatiently, even
violently, as on the waves of Gennesaret, but it has not been made iu vain. It has
not been by pohcy, or good sense, or considerations of worldly prudence, but by a
renewal in very various ways of the first fresh Christian enthusiasm which flowB
from the felt presence of Christ, that political enemies have been baffled, and
intellectual difficulties reduced to their true dimensions, and moral sores extirpated
or healed. Christianity does thus contain within itself the secret of its perpetual
youth, the certificate of its indestructible vitality ; because it centres in, it is in-
separable from, devotion to a living Person. No ideal lacking a counterpart in fact
could have guided the Church across the centuries. Imagination may do much in
quiet and prosperous times ; but amid the storms of hostile prejudice and passion,
in presence of political vicissitudes or of intellectual onslaughts, or of moral rebel-
lion or decay, an unreal Saviour must be found out. A Christ upon paper, though
it were the sacred pages of the gospel, would have been as powerless to save Chris-
tendom as a Christ in fresco ; not less feeble than the Countenance which, in the
last stages of its decay, may be traced on the wall of the Eefectory at Milan. A
living Christ is the key to the phenomenon of Christian history. The subject
suggests, among others, two reflections in particular. And, first, it is a duty to be
on our guard against panics. Panics are the last infirmity of believing souls. But
panics are to be deprecated, not because they imply a keen interest in the fortunes
of religion, but because tJbey betray a certain distrust of the power and hving presence
of our Lord. Science may for the moment be hostile ; in the long run it cannot
but befriend ns. And He who is with ns in the storm is most assuredly beyond
the reach of harm : to be panic-stricken is to dishonour Him. A second reflection
is this : a time of trouble and danger is the natural season for generous devotion.
To generous minds a time of trouble has its own attractions. It enables a man to
hope, with less risk of presumption, that his motives are sincere ; it fortifies courage ;
it suggests self -distrust ; it enriches character ; it invigorates faith. {Canon Liddon.)
The Ruler of the waves: — I. That roLLowiNG Christ will not prevent oub
HATINO earthly SORROWS AND TROUBLES. II. ThAT THE LoRD JeSUS ChRIST IS
TRULY AND REALLY MAN. III. ThAT THERE MAY BE MUCH WEAKNESS AND INPIRMITY
IN A TRUE Christian. " Master, carest Thou not that we perish ? '* 1. There was
impatience. 2. There was distrust. 3. There was imbelief. Many of God's
children go on very well so long as they have no trials. IV. The power op thb
Lord Jesus Christ. 1. His power in creation. 2. In the works of providence.
8. In His miracles. Christ is " able to save to the uttermost " (Heb. vii. 25). V. How
TENDERLY AND PATIENTLY THB LoRD JeSUS DEALS WITH WEAK BELIEVERS. The
Lord Jesus is of tender mercy. He will not cast away His believing people because
of shortcomings. {J. G. Ryle^ M.A.) The hurricane : — I. That when you are
GOING to take a VOYAGE OP ANY KIND YOU OUGHT TO HAVE ChRIST IN THE SHIP.
These boats would aU have gone to the bottom if Christ had not been there. You
are about to voyage out into some new enterprise ; you are bound to do the best you
can for yourself ; be sure to take Christ in the ship. Here are men largely prospered.
They are not puffed up. They acknowledge God who gives them their prosperity.
When disaster comes that destroys others, they are only helped into higher ex-
periences. Christ is in the ship. Here are other men, the prey of uncertainties.
in the storm of sickness you will want Christ. II. That people who follow
Christ must not always expect smooth sailing. If there are any people who
you would think ought to have a good time in getting out of this world, the apostles
of Jesus Christ ought to have been the men. Have you ever noticed how they got
out of the world ? St. James lost his head. St. PMlip was hung to death against
a pillar. Matthew was struck to death by a halberd. Mark was dragged to death
through the streets. St. James the Less had his brains dashed out with a fuller's
club. St. MatthiM was stoned to death. St. Thomas was struck through with a
spear. John Huss in the fire, the Albigenses, the Waldenses, the Scotch Cove-
nanters— did they always find smooth sailing ? Why go so far ? There is a young
man in a store in New York who has a hard time to maintain his Christian character.
All the clerks laugh at him, the employers in that store laugh at him, and when he
loses his patience they say : ** You are a pretty Chrisiian." Not so easy is it foi
CHAP. IT.] ST. MARK, 185
that young man to follow Christ. If the Lord did not help him hour by hour
be would fail. III. Tuat good pbople sometimes get very much fbiohtened.
And 80 it is now that you often find good people wildly agitated. ♦♦ Oh 1 " saya
some Christian man, " the infidel magazines, the bad newspapers, the spiritualistie
societies, the importation of so many foreign errors, the Church of God is going to
be lost, the ship is going to founder ! The ship is going down 1 " What are you
frightened about ? An old lion goes into his cavern to take a sleep, and he lies down
until his shaggy mane covers his paws. Meanwhile, the spiders outside begin to
spin webs over the mouth of his cavern, and say : •♦ That lion cannot break out
through this web," and they keep on spinning the gossamer threads until they get
the mouth of the cavern covered over. " Now," they say, " the lion's done, the
lion's done." After awhile the lion awakes and shakes himself, and he walks out
from the cavern, never knowing there were any spiders' webs, and with his voice he
shakes the mountain. Let the infidels and the sceptics of this day go on spinning
their webs, spinning their infidel gossamer theories, spinning them all over the
place where Christ seems to be sleeping. They sav : " Christ can never again come
out ; the work is done ; He can never get through this logical web we have been
spinning." The day will come when the Lion of Judah's tribe will rouse Himself
and come forth and shake mightily the nations. What then all your gossamer
threads ? What is a spider's web to an aroused lion t Do not fret, then, about the
world's going backward. It is going forward. IV. That Christ can hush thb
TEMPEST. Christ can hush the tempest of bereavement, loss and death. {Dr,
Talmage.) The toiling Christ : — I. Point out some of the significant hints which
the gospel records give us of the toilsomeness of Christ's service. In St.
Matthew's Gospel the idea of the king is prominent ; in St. Mark's, Christ as a
servant. Notice the traits of His service which it brings out. 1. How distinctly
it gives the impression of swift, strenuous work. Mark's favourite word is " straight-
way," " immediately," " forthwith," " anon." His whole story is a picture of rapid
acts of mercy and love. 2. We see in Christ's service, toil prolonged to the point of
actual physical exhaustion. So in this story. He had had a long wearying day of
work. He had spoken the whole of the parables concerning the kingdom of God.
No wonder He slept. 3. We see in Christ toil that puts aside the claims of physical
wants. *• The multitude cometh together again so that they could not so much as
eat bread." 4. We see in Christ's service a love which is at every man's beck and
call, a toil cheerfully rendered at the most unreasonable and unseasonable times.
II. The springs of this wonderfuii activity. There are three points which come
out in the Gospels as His motives for such unresting toil. The first is conveyed in
such words as these : " I must work the works of Hun that sent Me." This motive
made the service homogeneous — in all the variety of service one spirit was expressed,
and therefore the service was one. The second motive of His toil is expressed in
such words as these : " While I am in the world I am the light of the world."
There is a final motive expressed in such words as these : " And Jesus, moved with
compassion," &c. The constant pity of that beating heart moved the diligent
hand. III. The worth of this toil fob us. How precious a proof it is of
Christ's humanity. Labour is a curse till made a blessing by communion with God
in it. 1. Task all your capacity and use every minute in doing the thing that ia
plainly set before you. 2. The possible harmony of communion and service. The
labour did not break His fellowship with God. 3. The cheerful, constant postpone-
ment of our own ease, wishes, or pleasure, to the call of the Father's voice. 4. It
is an appeal to our grateful hearts. {Dr. McLaren.) The great calm ;— " He
maketh the storm a calm." The " calm " then is the voice of God. 1. Of power.
5. Of love. 3. Of peace. 4. Of warning. No earthly calm lasts. I. The inner
CALM. In every soul there has been storm. It rages through the whole being.
But Jesus is the stiller of this storm in man. 1. In his conscience. 2. In his
heart. 3. In his intellect. II. The future calm for earth. In every aspect
ours is a stormy world. But its day of calm is coming. Jesus will say to it, Peace,
be still. 1. As a Prophet. 2. As a Priest. 3. As a King, to give the calm of
heaven. {H. Bonar^ D.D.) ** Peace, be still ! " ; — No words can exaggerate the
value and importance of a calm mind. It is the basis of almost everything which
is good. Well-ordered reflections, meditation, influence, wise speech — all embosom
themselves in a calm mind. Yet a state of agitation is with many the rule of life.
Consider Jesus as the stiller of the heart. He was most eminently a still character.
The greatest force of energy and the largest activity of mind and body are not only
compatible with stillness, but they go to make it. The persons of the largest power
186 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. iv.
and the most telling action are generally the quietest. TRey may owe it to
discipline and drill — and perhaps Christ Himself did — but they show themselves
reined in and well-ordered. Just as it was in the lake: the wind and the wares
went before, and, so to speak, subdued and made the calm. The placidity of a
fiery and passionate nature is the best of foundations for all quietness. And this
may be a thought of strength and encouragement to some. The more resolute the
will, and the more violent the passion.the more complete may be the victory, and the
more imperturbable the temper, if only grace do its proper work. Want of rehgious
peace lies at the root of all that is trouble to the mind. A man at peace with God
will be at peace with his own conscience, with the world ; he will not have his
feelings greatly aggravated by external things. Yon won't be much disturbed by
anything if you feel and when you feel — " My Father I My Father ! Jesus is mine,
and I am His 1 " Next, if you will be calm, make pictures to yourself of all calm
things — in nature, in history, in people you know, and above all, in Christ. Take
care that yon do this at the moment when you begin to feel the temptation to die-
torbance. But still more realize at such times Cnrist's presence. Is not He
with yon f — is not He in you ? — and can restless, miserable, burning feelings dare
to live in snch a tenement ? Let the fiercest thought touch Him, and by a strange
fascination, it will clothe itself, and lie at His feet. And, fourthly, recognize it as
the very office and prerogative of Christ to give quietness. And if He gives this,
who then can make trouble I The disciples were more amazed at this triumph
of Christ over the elements, with which they were so familiar in their sea life,
than at all His other miracles. And it is not too much for me to say that
Toa will never know what Jesus is, or what that word Saviour means, until yoa
have felt in that heart of yours — ^which was once so troubled, so heaving, so
tossed, and so ill at ease — all the depth and the calm, and all the beauty and
the hush which He has given yon. {J. Vaughan^ M.A.) Consult the chart
in fine at well as in stormy weather: — ^Let as not be like that captain of whom
we lately heard, who having a true and correct chart in his cabin, failed to
consult it while the weather was calm, but went below to look for it only when
the vdnd and tide had drifted his barque upon the bar, and so, with his eyes upon
the course he should have steered, felt the shock which in a few moments sent
them down into the abyss. Our souls are like a ship upon the deep, and as we sail
over the waves of life, we must, like wary mariners, take the hints given us in
oar nature. If we see on the horizon a cloud of some possible temptation no bigger
than a man's hand, though all else be bright and clear — if we hear but the first
blast of some probable sin hurtling in the farthest caverns of our life — we must
beware, for in that speck, in that distant howl may couch a tempest ready to spring
up and leap down upon our souls. Above all we should always have Christ aboard
with ns ; we should have Him formed within us as our hope of glory ; under His
ensign we should sail, as our only hope of reaching that haven for which we are
making. {W. B. Philpot, M.A.) Utilizing Christ's presence: — Too many
Christians — nay, almost all of as at too many times, though we have Christ with us,
do not profit by His presence nor enjoy Him as we ought. We should not only
have Christ, but, having Him, ah why have we not that faitl), that assurance of
faith, that full assurance of faith, which can realize and utilize His presence ? {Ibid.)
Christ and His disciples in the storm : — I. The apostles were not exempted from
danger because they were the attendants of Christ. Believers, look for storms t
II. While the apostles were exposed to the storm, they had Christ along with them
in the vessel. III. The conduct of Christ during the storm was remarkable and
instructive. He was asleep. IV. The feelings and conduct of the disciples during
the storm are strongly illustrative of human character. Their faith was tried.
They were afraid. They apply to Christ. Prayer not always the language of faith.
Y. The effect of this application of the disciples to Christ. He answered their
prayer, though their faith was weak. He thus revealed His Divine power. He
unveiled His ordinary agency. VI. Christ, with the blessing, administers a rebuke.
Mark your conduct under trials. VII. The disciples came out of the trial with
increased admiration of Christ. (Expository Discourses.) Christ asleep in the
vessel : — I. The apparent indifference of the Lord to His people, n. It is only
apparent. III. He has a real care for them at times when He seems indifferent.
IV. They shall see this to be the case by and by. (C. H. Spurgeon). Trust in
God often the last extremity : — While a small steam-packet was crossing a
stormy bay, the engine snddenly stopped, and for a few minutes the situation was
one of real peril. One old lady rushed to the captain with the anxious inquiry
CHAP. IV.] ST. MARK. l«f
■whether there was any danger. " Madam," was the unoompromismg reply, " we
must trust in God." " O sir I " wailed the inquirer, •♦ has it come to that ? " A
good many Christians feel like that in times of peril ; they are willing to trust in
everything — except God. There are some children who are afraid that a thunder -
storm is about to burst over them every time a cloud gathers in the sky ; and if
the sky is cloudless, they are certain that it is only the calm before the storm.
They can always see the coming storms, but cannot trust the goodness that sends
them. Help in answer to prayer: — A fishing-boat was struggling for life out on
the sea, and the skipper had lost all knowledge of where the land was, and
whither his boat was driving. In his despair, the strong man cried to God for
help. Just then a little beam from a window-light shone over the waters ; the
boat's prow was turned, and after a little more manful fighting, she reached the
haven. Was not that gleam of light God's answer to the skipper's prayer ? A
missionary was returning home, and just as he was nearing the coasts of his
country, a terrible storm came on, and threatened to break the ship in pieces.
The missionary went below, and prayed to God earnestly for the safety of the
ship. Presently he came up and told the captain with quiet confidence that the
ship would Hve through the storm. Captain and crew jeered at him ; they did not
believe it. Yet the ship came safely to port. Was the missionary wrong when he
saw in this an instance of God's readiness to give the help His children ask f
Distrust rebuked by God'i constant care : — Every miracle of God's grace is a stand-
ing rebuke of distrust. What if your child, whom you had fed and clothed and housed
for years, should begin to be anxious as to where his next meal or his next suit of
clothes was to come from, and whether he could be sore of having a roof over his head
for another night ? What if he still persisted in his distrust, although you told
him that you would take care of all these things? If you can imagine your child
acting in so foolish a way, you have a picture of how most of us, day after day,
treat the God who cares for us, and who has promised to supply us with all things.
" Other little ahips " ; — ^Those " other little ships " gained a great deal that day
from Christ's saying, " Peace be still ! " which we do not discover that any body
was candid enough to acknowledge. The whole sea became tranquil, and they were
saved. The world receives many unappreciated benefits from Jesus Christ's
presence in the Church. Men are just so many little ships, taking entire benefit
of the miracle brought from God's great love for His own. Start with the commonest
gain that comes to the world through the Church. 1. See how property values
are lifted by every kind of Christian effort. 2. See what the gospel does towards
lifting a low and depraved neighbourhood into respectability. 8. Sea how it
enriches education. 4. See how it elevates woman. 5. See how it alleviates sickness.
There is no need of pursuing the illustration any farther. But there are just
three lessons which will take force from the figure, perhaps ; and these might as
well be stated. 1. Why do not men of the world recognize what the Church
of Christ is doing daily and yearly for them, their wives, and their children ?
2. Why do not men of the world see that the men in the " other little ships " were
the safer from the storm the nearer their boats were to that Jesus was in ? 8.
Why do not men of the world perceive that the disciples were better off than any-
body else during that awful night upon Gennesareth ? Oh, that is the safest place
in the universe for any troubled soul to be in — among the chosen friends of Jesus
Christ the Lord, and keeping the very closest to His side I {C. S, Robinson, D.D.)
Christ the Lord of nature : — Nature, in the sense in which we now use it, means the
world of matter, and the laws of its working. If Holy Scripture be listened to, He
is so of right. "All things were made by Him, and without Him was not any thing
made that was made." ♦* God created all thinRS by Jesus Christ." There is no
lordship like that of creation. Christ in the days of His flesh actually gave proof
of His lordship on earth. 1. There is a class of miracles which had their place in
what we may call productive nature ; in those processes whiah have to do with the
supply of food for man's life. Wine made at Cana ; feeding of the five thousand ;
feeding of the four thousand. 2. There is a class of miracles proving the dominion
of Christ over animated nature. The draught of fishes on the sea of Tiberias ; the
piece of money in the fish's mouth. 3. We have examples of the sovereignty of
Christ over elemental nature, air, and sea. 4. We have an example of Christ's
sovereignty in the domain of morbid nature, disease and decay — '* the fig-tree dried
up from the roots." Clirist the Lord of nature. 1. It was recessary that the Son
of God coming down from heaven for the redemption of men should prove Him-
self to be very God by many infallible and irresistible signs. It was in mercy as
188 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. iy.
wdl as in wisdom that He gave this demonstration. 2. It could scarcely be but
that He shonld as Son of Qoi assert below His dominion over God's creatiou, and
over the processes of Qod's providence. 8. Let ns be careful how we speak of
miracles, such as these, as if they were contradictions of God's natural laws, or con-
tradictions of G^d's providential operations. When Christ wrought a miracle upon
nature it was to give a glimpse of some good thing lost, of some perfect thing de>
teriorated, of some joyous thing spoilt, by reason of the Fall, and to be given back
to man by virtue of redemption. 4. In these miracles which attest the sovereignty
of Christ over nature we have one of the surest grounds of comfort for Christian
souls. (1) In their literal sense, to regard Him as sovereign of the universe in
which tbey dwell. (2) In their parabolic significance as stilling the inward
Btorm. 6. Th6re is also warning for the careless and sinful. Upon His bless-
ing or curse depends all that makes existence a happiness or misery. The
agencies of nature as of grace are in the hands of Christ. {G. J, Vaughan, D.D.)
Christ asleep : — There is a very great spiritual importance in the fact that Jesus
sleeps. In this sleep of Jesus, a vbby great mistake into which we ake apt to
FALL IS coKBECTED OB PREVENTED ; the mistake, I mean, of silently assuming that
Christ, being Divine, takes nothing as we do, and is really not under our human
conditions far enough to suffer exhaustions of nature by work or by feeling, by hun-
ger, the want of sleep, dejections or recoils of wounded sensibility. Able to do even
miracles — to heal ttie sick, or cure the bhnd, or raise the dead, or still the sea — we
fall into the impression that His works really cost Him nothing, and that while His
lot appears to be outwardly dejected, He has, in fact, an easy time of it. Exactly
contrary to this, He feels it, even when virtue goes out only from the hem of His gar-
ment. And when He gives the word of healing, it is a draft, we know not how great,
npon His powers. In the same way every sympathy requires an expenditure of
strength proportioned to the measure of that sympathy. Every sort of tension,
or attention, every argument, teaching, restraint of patience, concern of charity, is
a putting forth with cost to Him, as it is to us. Notice also more particularly the
CONDITIONS OB BESTOWMENTS OF THE SLEEP OP JbSDS, AND ESPECIALLY THEIB COB-
bespondencb WITH His REDEMPTIVE UNDERTAKiNO. Saying nothing of infants, who
in a certain proper sense are called innocent, there have been two examples of full-
grown innocent sleep in our world : that of Adam in the garden, and that of
Christ the second Adam, whose nights overtook Him with no place where to bestow
Himself. And the sleep of both, different as far as possible in the manner, is yet more
exactly appropriate, in each, to his peculiar work and office. One is laid to sleep in
ft paradise of beauty, lulled by the music of birds and running brooks, shaded and
sheltered by the over-hanging trees, shortly to wake and look upon a kindred nature
standing by, offered him to be the partner and second life of his life. The other, as
pure and spotless as he, and ripe, as he is not, in the unassailable righteousness of
character, tears Himself away from clamorous multitudes that crowd upon Him suing
piteously for His care, and djops, even out of miracle itself, on the hard plank deck,
or bottom, of a fisherman's boat, and there, in lightning and thunder and tempest,
sheeted as it were in the general wrath of the waters and the air. He sleeps — only to
wake at the supplicating touch of fear and distress. One is the sleep of the world's
Father ; the other that of the world's Bedeemer. One has never known as yet the
way of sin, the other has come into the tainted blood and ruin of it, to bear and
suffer under it, and drink the cup it mixes ; so to still the storm and be a reconciling
peace. Both sleep in character. Were the question raised which of the two will
be crucified, we should have no doubt. Visibly, the toil-worn Jesus, He that takes
the storm, curtained in it as by the curse — He is the Bedeemer. His sleep agrees
with His manger birth, His poverty, His agony. His cross ; and what is more, as the
cross that is maddening in His enemies is the retributive disorder of God's just
penalty following their sin, so the fury of that night shadows it all the more fitly,
that what He encounters in it is the wrathful cast of Providence. {Dr. Bushnell.)
The ship of the world : — In one of the prophets we have the picture of a stately
ship which is a type of the world. She is all splendour and magnificence ; she
waUu the waters like a thing of life. The fir-trees of Senir and the cedars of
Lebanon have contributed to her beauty ; her oars are wrought from the oaks of
Baahan, her sails are of fine linen and broidered work. She has a gay and gallant
crew ; the multitudes who throng her decks are full of joy and thoughtless of danger.
Out they sail into the great waters ; her rowers bring her into the midst of the sea ;
and when the east wind rises she is broken in the midst, and Ues a helpless wreck
upon the great ocean of eternity. There was no Christ in the ship to say, •' Peace,
CHAP. T.] 8T. MARK, 189
be still; " no pitying Jesus to answer the bitter cry of "Lord, save us, we perish."
But not so was it with the little fisher-boat. It had no pomp and vanities of which
to boast, no tinselled splendour ; but it carried Jesus and His fortunes — One who
could rebuke the waves of sin. The world, wanting Christ, wanted all things else
and was lost ; the Church, with Christ in the ship, had nothing more to ask ; it was
sure to be saved with His '• Peace, be still." (G. F, Cushinan^ D.D,) The strange
inquiry concerning fear : — What we could understand well enough was a mystery to
Christ. In our gUbness we could have explained their fear clearly. The lake was
sixty fathoms deep ; stoutest swimmer could not have saved his life in such a sea ;
some were married men ; life is sweet ; a storm is more terrible by night than day ;
and so on. But what is all plain to every one was a mystery Christ could not solve.
How a doubt of the love of God could enter a soul passed His comprehension. Why
men should be afraid of the Divine ordinance called death. He could not understand.
What fear was, He knew not. What a proof of Divine sanctity Ues in the fact that all
fear and doubt were mysteries to Him 1 (R. Glover.) From one fear to another:—
I. They escaped one fear, only to get into another ; losing the fear of the tempest,
they get a greater fear, that of the Lord of the tempest. U. They lose a bad fear
to get a good one — a fear which is reverent, and one which has as mnoh trust as ftwe
in it. Such fear is the beginning of faith in Christ's Godhead. (Ibid,)
CHAPTER V.
VzBS. 1-20. Into the conntry of the Gadarenes. — Tfie country of the Oadarenet:
I spent a night and part of two days in the vicinity of the Lake of Tiberias. Mj
tent was pitched near the Hot Baths, about a mile south of the town of Tiberias,
and, consequently, near the south end of the lake. In looking across the water to
the other side, I had before me the country of the Gadarenes, where the swine,
impelled by an evil spirit, plunged into the sea. I was struck with a mark of
accuracy in the sacred writers which had never occurred to me till then. They
state that "the swine ran violently down the steep place, or precipice " (the article
being required by the Greek), ''and were choked in the sea." It is implied here,
first, that the hills in that region approach near the water ; and, secondly, that
they fall off so abruptly along the shore that it would be natural for a writer
familiar with that fact to refer to it as well known. Both these implications are
correct. A mass of rocky hills overlook the sea on that side, so near the water that
one sees their dark outline reflected from its surface, while their sides are in
general so steep that a person familiar with the scenery would hardly think of
speaking of a steep place or precipice, where so much of the coast forms but one
continuous precipice. Our translators omit the definite article, and show, by this
inadvertence, how naturally the more exact knowledge of the evangelists influenced
their language. {H. B. Haekett, D.D.) The tombs: — ^These tombs were caverns,
natural or artificial, in the sides of the rocks, containing cells in which the dead
bodies were placed and closed up. The entrance to the cave itself was not closed,
and thus it might be used as a habitation. Such ancient tombs still exist in the
hills above Gersa, as well as at Gadara, indeed the whole region, as Mr. Tristram
remarks, is so perforated with these rock-chambers, that a home for the demoniac
might be found, whatever locality be assigned as the scene of the miracle. {Dean
Mansel.) Eastern tombs : — In the East the receptacles of the dead are aJways
situated at some distance from the abodes of the living ; and if belonging to kings
or men of rank, are spacious vaults and magnificent structures, containing, besides
the crypt that contains the ashes of their solitary tenants, several chambers or
recesses which are open and accessible at the sides. In these the benighted traveller
often finds a welcome asylum ; in these the dervishes and santons, wandering
mendicants that infest the towns of Persia and other eastern countries, generally
establish themselves, and they are often, too, made the haunts of robbers and
lawless people, who hide themselves there to avoid the consequences of their crimes.
Nor are they occupied only by such casual and dangerous tenants. When passing
through a desolate village near the Lake of Tiberias, Giovanni Finati saw the few
inhabitants living in the tombs as their usual place of residence; and at Thebes the
lame traveller, when he was introduced to Mr. Beechy, the British Consul, found
190 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [cha>. ▼.
that gentleman had established himself, while prosecuting his researches among
the ruins of that celebrated place, in the vestibule of one of the tombs of the ancient
kings. Captain Light, who travelled over the scene of our Lord's interview with
the demoniac, describes the tombs as still existing in the form of caverns cut in the
live rock, like those at Petra — as wild and sequestered solitude?, divided into a
number of bare and open niches, well suited to be places of refuge to those unhappy
lunatics for whom the benevolence of antiquity had not provided a better asylum.
{R. Jamieson, D.D.) Power of evil spirits, and poioer over them : — L The power
OF EVIL SPIRITS. 1. As Seen in its extensiveness. Their field is the world. 2. As
seen in its effects. (1) In institutions : paganism ; pseudo- Christian forms ; govern-
ments. (2) In society: amusements; sentiments; prejudices; practices; vices; crimes;
results. II. Christ's power over evil spiRira. 1. Feared by them — " I adjure
Thee by God, torment me not." 2. Hated of them — *' What have we," &c. 3.
Absolute over them — " Come out of him, thou unclean spirit," <fec. (1) This exer-
cise of Christ's power over evil spirits a prophecy of their ultimate subjection to
Him. (2) Christ only can deliver us from the power of Satan. (3) The contrast
between Satan's power and Christ's is here graphically and historically delineated.
(4) The power of worldUness to dry up human sympathy exemplified in the Gerge-
senes sending Jesus away from their coasts. (5) The power of Christ in delivering
us from the power of evil involves grateful obligations — " Go home to thy friends,"
(fee This is the true method of spreading the gospel. (D. C. Hughes, M.A.)
Demoniacal possession : — The four evangelists give themselves very little concern
about pathology and diagnosis, although one of them was a physician. But taking
the Gospels as an honest and not unintelligent record of the phenomena, we make
out two points very clearly concerning this demonism. I. It was not mere lxtnact
OR EPILEPSY, for these diseases are recognized and clearly distinguished from the
work of the evil spirits. There are patients in whom the work of the infesting
spirit produces symptoms like epilepsy, and other patients in whom it produces
symptoms of dumbness, tind there are still other manifestations, but beneath these
symptoms they detect indications, which the sufferer himself confirms, of some-
thing different from the mere physical diseases of like symptoms by which these
cases were surrounded. II. As this demonism was not mere disease, so, on the
other hand, it was not mere wickedness — the wilful giving up of one's self to the
instigation of the devil — a mistake to which we are inclined by the unhappy mis-
translation of demon into devil. It is always spoken of and dealt with as
an involuntary affliction, looked upon by the Lord with pity rather than
censure. Neither is it treated as if it were in any special sense a visitation for
sin. Doubtless these sufferers were sinners, and doubtless their sufferings stood
in some relation to their sins, but it was not this relation, that they were " sinners
above all others." The truth seems to be this : that sin, unbelief, opened the way
for this awful curse, and that when the alien spirit had taken hold of body and
mind and will, it had the power of plaguing with various disorders — with wild,
moping, melancholic madness, or with epileptic convulsions, or blindness, or
dumbness. Both the disciples and the evangelists, and even the popular apprehen-
sion of the Jews, distinguished clearly between such of these maladies as were
merely physical, and such as were inflicted by malign spirits. (L. W. Bacon.)
Christ and the demoniac : — From this strange but suggestive incident we may
learn — I. The immediate connection of the world of darkness with the evil
heart. To-day men break through moral and social restraints, and with else
unaccountable recklessness destroy their every interest ; suffer disgrace, lose their
situations, break up their homes, and for a mess of pottage sacrifice all their hopes
in life. Human passion, or even selfishness, is no explanation of such follies.
They have a demon; they are possessed. IL The great power of the inhabitants
OF DARKNESS OVER THE EVIL HEART. To drive men from the comforts of an
honourable life, and to lead them to seek happiness in vagrancy ; to make them
think they are aU right, though daubed with dirt and pollution ; to cause men who
are sane in the ordinary affairs of life to frequent such places and cherish such
companions as reveal to others their moral madness. III. The utter impotenct of
MAM to DELIVBB THE POSSESSED FROM THE POWER OF THE INHABITANTS OP DARKNESS.
rV. The WEAKNESS of THE POWERS OF DARKNESS IN CONFUCT WITH ChRIST. A leglon
of demons expelled by a word ! V. Conclusion. 1. Beware of tampering with evil.
The " little sin " may open the door of the heart for the entrance of a whole legion
of demons. 2. The wish of evil will ever be self-destructive. 3. If Jesus has cured
you, show it by causing joy and gladness where you have caused so much misery—
CHAP, v.] ST. MARK. 191
in your home. {F. Wallace.) The demoniac of Gadara : — I. The misebt of the
man. II. The majesty of Christ. III. The mischief of the devils. {J. B.) The
Gadarene demoniac : — 1. That there are other intelligent and finite creatures beside
men. 2. Some of these are wholly wicked, while others are wholly good. 8. Wicked
spirits can tempt men to sin. 4. Yet it is conceivable that in some instances they
should acquire an absolute physical control over a human being, bo as to coerce
him irresistibly and make him act against his own will. 6. Gases of possession
were peculiarly numerous at the time of Christ's ministry upon earth. Lessons :
1. See the exceeding terribleness of sin, in ruining two orders of creatures and
making one the means of ruin to the other. 2. Be thankful to be saved from the
physical tyranny of the devil. He would make us all howling demoniacs if he
could : but he is restrained by the power and interference of Jesus Christ.
3. Consider the dreadful doom of sinners who hereafter will be absolutely under
the power of evil spirits. Hell is a pandemonium of devils, and a bedlam of
demoniacs. 4. As still subject to the moral temptations of the evil one, look
fitedfastly to Jesus, who has power to bring you off more than conqueror in
every conflict with the powers of darkness. {Congregational Pulpit.) Sin
and salvation : — I. Some aspects of sin. 1. Its contagiousness. ^ The man was
*' possessed." Evil is always reaching beyond itself for something of which it
may lay hold, and which it may drag downwards. 2. Its anti-social tendency.
*' Neither abode in any house, but in the tombs." Iniquity isolates men, as ferocity
does the wolf, the tiger, the eagle. 3. Its embrutalization of character. (1) Evi-
denced in the man ; naked, dwelling like a beast amongst the caves : " about two
thousand " demons dwelling in one man 1 (2) Evidenced in the evil spirits. Spirits,
who had been inhabitants of heaven, fallen so low that they desire to take up their
abode in the swine 1 4. Its dread of righteousness. The devils cry out when Christ
draws near. Always vice fears and hates virtue. II. Soms aspects of salvation.
1. It is begun in the expulsion (not repression) of evil principles and desires. 2.
God accounts as nothing whatever material loss may be incurred in its effectuation.
Souls are more to Him than swine. 3. Its moral and spiritual results have a counter-
part, and external evidence in improved material and social condition. " Clothed,"
Ac 4. The surest proof of the reality of its accomplishment is renunciation of
personal preferences in obedience to Christ's command. •* Not my will, but Thine be
done." (The Pulpit Analyst.) The evil spirits: — iTThe pebsonalitt of evil bpibits :
or, in otner words, that they are distinct personal beings. For every feature of the
narrative bespeaks their true personality. Their first meeting with our Lord ; their
direct perception that He was their great antagonist ; that He was man, and yet
that in some way He was the Son of the most high God : that He was of the race
over whom they had of old triumphed, and yet that He was their judge ; their
trembling entreaty that the appointed time of their full sorrow might not be fore-
stalled : — all of these bespeak the manifest meeting of the person of the Christ
with the person of the evil one. For all parts of this narrative are equally incom-
patible with the supposed solution of imaginative language ; and all equally agree
with the simple meaning of the declaration, that these spirits were separate, lost,
personal beings, under whose strange and cruel power the demoniac had been
brought. But, above all, this is so clearly established by their entering into the
swine, that it furnishes us with the most probable reason for that permission. II.
And as their personality, so, further, theib gbeat kumbeb is established by^ this
history. Their name was Legion, for many devils had entered into this single
victim : a clear intimation of the exhaustless multitude of these hosts of darkness.
ni. Again, concerning theib condition we may gather much. For their meeting
with Christ, as it called forth their name, so did it compel the disclosure of theii
state. We see them wandering restlessly over the earth, held even now in the strong
chain of an ever present despair, and looking on to the full accomplishment of their
appointed punishment. So that their present condition is plainly one of active, un-
resting, sinful misery ; their hell is already within them, though its outer bars close
not utterly around them until the accomplishment of all things. IV. And in this
condition theib poweb is manifestly gbeat. The strength which they administered
to this their victim, by which " chains had been plucked asunder by him, and fettern
broken in pieces," was but the outward exhibition of the awful might with which
he was himself subdued to their will. For what is meant by their ♦* entering into
him," save that they had the mastery over him ; that his spirit wa« controlled by
theirs, so that his outer actions were now the coming forth of an evil power within
him ? In this sense they had " entered into him." But it is as plain that this power,
191 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. t.
great as it was, was limited ; for they could do no more than they were Buffered.
V. And but for this gracious help of the Almighty, surely man would be swept
away before the flood of their bitter hatred ; for we may see here their malignity
as plainly as their power. These wretched men, with their foul haunt amidst the
pollutions of the tomb, who wore no clothes, but were " always night and day crying
out and cutting themselves with stones ;'* how plainly do they bear their witness to
the character of Satan's rulel What else was all this their proclaimed misery but the
evident display, in those given over utterly to him, of the true working of that will
of his which is now making men sensual, and brutish, and violent, and fierce, and
dark in spirit 1 The pleasant baits of sin are cast aside as soon as they have served
their turn, and an absolute malignity seeks to overwhelm his prey with unmixed
misery. Surely the tender mercies of that wicked one are cruel ; he hates God
without measure, and therefore hates in man even the obscured image of his
heavenly Father. What a fearful intimation is all this of what hell shall be, where
there shall be no limitation to his power of tormenting those who heretofore have
joined him in rebeUion, and thereby made him master over them ! Lessons : And,
first, we may see here the greatness of our redeemed hfe. Every one of us, how
narrow soever be his sphere, is, as it were the champion of the great King. There
is a mighty warfare raging throughout all His wide dominions. The hosts are
gathered for the battle. An expectant world is looking on. Not men only, but all
the armies of heaven, are ranged on this side and on that. Our common temp-
tations, they are these times of triaL In them we either maintain God's truth, or
go basely over to His enemies. And if there be this greatness in our redeemed
life, let us see next its fearfulness. For who are we that we should have to face
these mighty ones, thus armed with power, thus inevitable in presence, thus skilled
in the arts of the destroyer, thus malignant, numerous, nimble, and daring from
the blackness of despair and the bitterness of hatred? Surely, then, our life,
which leads us into the midst of them, must be fearful. Can it be safe for such
men as we are to be sleepy and careless ; to be ungirded, as those who live for
pleasure ; unarmed, as those who loll idly, courting ease or slumber ? But once
more ; see not only the greatness and the fearfulness of the life which, in this view,
we are leading, but see also its blessedness and true security. There is, indeed,
this enemy to meet ; our temptations to common sins involve this mighty struggle
as coming from him ; but there is also great joy even in this very thought ; for aa
we cannot doubt the presence of evil, surely it is a blessed thing to know that it is
thus a temptation cast in from witiiout; that it is not necessarily part of us.
** God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able ; but
will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it '*
(1 Cor. x. 13). We are Christ's soldiers, will He suffer us to perish ? let us look at
His cross, that we may deem better of His love. We know not how greatly we are
every day protected by His present might ; we know not how He has already
succoured ns ; how He has curbed the power of the enemy ; we know not how to
measure aright the common blessing of being in His Church, amongst His saints,
where the power of Satan even now is manifestly bound and straitened ; we cannot
tell from what bodily inflictions, from what mental struggles, from what fearful
falls He has actually kept us. {Bishop Wilberforee.) Nature sitting at the
feet of Je$u$: — I. The diffioulty felt by bomb, and expressed by not a
FEW, AS to THEBB BEINO OB NOT BEING ANY REAL DISTINCTION BETWEEN WHAT ABB
CALLED DEMONIACAL POSSESSIONS IN THE NeW TESTAMENT AND MANIA, OB MALADIES
OF VARIOUS SORTS AND DEGREES OF INTENSITY. 1. They are distinct and separate
things (Matt, iv. 24, viii. 16 ; Mark i. 32). 9. The language of our Lord on the
occasion of His casting out devils is such as to warrant us in concluding that it
was an actual or literal demoniacal possession. The theory of Strauss and the
Rationalistic school. 3. These demoniacs were not necessarily, or in every instance,
the guiltiest of men, but they were in all instances the unhappiest of men. There
was a groaning under the tyranny they endured. 4. There seemed to have been
two wills in the person — the will of the victim, and the will of the spirit driving
him wherever he would. II. A few reasons for supposing that demoniac posses-
sions MAY HAVE CEASED, AND SOME REASONS FOR BELIEVING IT MAY STILL CONTINUB.
1. If demoniac possessions were in those days, how is it that demoniac possessions
are not now ? How is it that epidemics that existed once do not exist now ? <&c. 2.
Why does God suffer it to be so ? The answer to that difiSculty is, that we know
▼ery little why evil was introduced, we know not why evil is continued, Ac. Evil is
•ot onripe good, as Emerson and others of his school allege. 3. Another reasoa
CKiF. T.] Sr. MARK, 193
why demoniac possessions may have ceased is, that Satan, beyond all dispute, at
oar Bedeemer's birth, and at our Redeemer's atonement, received a blow from wiiich
he has never recovered. 4. And there remains this fact, too — whatever God does
in the world, Satan always gets up something very like it, because his hope of pro-
gress is by deception. III. The speoial and individual portrait sketched in the
TEXT. 1. The most awful specimen of demoniacal poBsession that we can well
imagine. 2. It is very remarkable to notice the contrast in his character— the
hnman in its agony, groaning to be delivered, and the fiendish in its depravity,
imploring to be let alone. 3. It appears that when Jesus drew near to the man he
was not delivered of the demons instantly, but underwent a tremendous paroxysm
of suffering and distress. 4. The prayer of the demons occasion a great deal of
difficulty and of scoffing (confer Luke viii. 31). It seems to us a mystery that
Christ should answer the prayer of the demons at all. If there is any other way of
disposing of them, why let the demons take possession of the swine, and why let
the swine be thus destroyed ? 5. The Gadarenes also presented a petition to Christ ;
and what is that petition ? (ver. 17.) Strange, startling, painful fact 1 And yet it
is possible for us to imitate their example. {J, Gumming ^ D.D.) The Gadarene
detnoniac : — I. Human efforts exerted. Picture his state. He was a pest to his
family and the city. So are great sinners, who are the devil's instruments for dis-
turbing society. Something must be done. But what 7 Men can think only of
fetters, &o. They did all that they had the wit to devise, or the power to accomplish.
Perhaps congratulated themselves on having done so much. Notice modern human
restraints. Law, prisons, reformatories, policemen, and punishments. Besides
these there are public opinion, fashion, custom. These are often used to keep the
unruly in check. Suitable efforts employed among children. Parental restraints
(Psa. xxxii. 9) hence (Lam. iii. 27). II. Human efforts frustrated. No restraints
oould be found that were strong enough. Apply this and the personal injuries
received to the case of those, especially chil^en and young people, who break
through restraints. He cut himself with the rocks ; they are injured by contact
with evil companions, bad habits, &c. Liberty only good for those who have some
power of self -controL Observe how futile are human efforts in restraining sin.
What multitudes break through every restraint I This to be prevented, not by
strengthening the bonds, but by removing the inclination. This was what Jesus
did. IIL Human efforts superseded. Jesus did not rebuke those who had done
tiieir best, but He did something better. He exorcised the evil spirit. The man
was at once reduced to tractabihty ; tamed without a fetter. Power of evil spirits
illustrated by the fate of the swine. Superior value of the man proved by the per-
mitted destruction of the swine, so the man might be saved. Selfishness of the
Gadarenes illustrates that of the world in general, who would rather preserve
personal property than sacrifice it for the religious and permanent good of man.
Learn — I. The malignity, power, craft, and blindness of evil spirits. II. The
wretched state, personally and relatively, of man under their influence. HL The
atter helplessness of the best-concerted human means for the restraint of eviL lY.
The Buffioiency of the word of Jesus (CoL ii. 15). (C Gray.) Our great enemy : —
From this history we learn three truths of great importance. I. That the devil is
a spirit of great malice and power. II. That both his malice and his power are
altogether under the government of God. HI. That God often permits him to do
great mischief, for the profit of worldly men and for the trial of the faith of good
men. {Bishop Wilson.) The dem^oniac of Gergesa: — I. The Geroesenb in
BONDAGE. Was he not a free man, one who would not be bound by others — would
go his own way ? Yet he was a miserable slave (vers. 15-18). Here was one who
seemed to be free, yet was really a slave. II. How the Geeqesene was rescued.
Gould not escape himself — the evil spirit too strong. Friends could not rescue him.
Hopeless until some one stronger than the devils should come — then deliverance
(compare Luke xi. 21, 22). Jesus not only stronger than one evil spirit — an army
of them here (ver. 9). Yet see His supremacy. 1. They could go nowhere against
His will. 2. Besought Him. 3. Even when He defeated them. III. The Geeqesene
at libebtt. 1. Is it like a free man to be sitting at another's feet like that ? 2.
What does he ask of Jesus ? Would it be freedom to have to follow another every-
where f 3. Jesus gives him an order ; is that like liberty, to obey it so implicitly ?
Yes, for it is his own free choice to be, like St. Paul afterwards, the ** slave of
Christ" (Bom. i. 1). {E. Stock.) Sin destructive : — Satan's work is a work of
destruction. Nearly seven hundred years ago, Jenghis Khan swept over Central
Asia, and it is said that, for centuries after, his course could be traced by tbt
18
194 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [ohaf. t.
pyramids of human bones— the bones of slaaghtered oaptives — which his armiea
left behind them. If the bones of Satan's slain captives could be piled op in oar
sight, what a pyramid that would be 1 Self-mutilation has always been common
among the worshippers of false gods ; to this day the fakirs of India cut and gash
themselves with knives. The devil sets his servants at the same unprofitable task.
Alo-ed-Din, the chief of the Afisassins, succeeded in persuading his men that who>
ever would fall in his service was sure of Paradise ; and so, at a nod of their chief,
the poor dupes would stab themselves to the heart, or fling themselves over preci-
pices. Satan's one aim is to blind his captives, and lead them to self-destruction.
{Sunday School Times.) A man in ruins : — Can anything be more sad than the
wreck of a man ? We mourn over the destruction of many noble things tha^ have
existed in the world. Men, when they hear of the old Phidian Jupiter — that sat
forty feet high, carved of ivory and gold, and that was so magnificent, so transcen-
dent, that all the ancient world counted him unhappy that died without having
seen this most memorable statue that ever existed in the world — often mourn
to think that its exeeeding value led to its destruction, and that it perished. It was
a great loss to art that such a thing should perish. Can any man look upon the
Acropohs — shattered with balls, crumbled by the various influences of the elements,
and utterly destroyed — and not mourn to think that such a stately temple, a temple
so unparalleled in its exquisite symmetry and beauty, should be desolate and
scattered ? Can there be anything more melancholy than the destruction, not only
of such temples as the Acropolis and the Parthenon, but of a whole city of temples
and statues ? More melancholy than the deBtruotion of a statue, or a temple, or a
city, or a nation, in its physical aspects, is the destruction of a man, the wreck of
the understanding, the ruin of the moral feelings, the scattering all abroad of those
elements of power that, united together, make man fitly the noblest creature that
walks on the earth. Thousands and thousands of men make foreign pilgrimages to
visit and mourn over fallen and destroyed cities of former grandeur and beauty ; and
yet, all round about every one of us, in every street, and in almost every neighbour-
hood, there are ruins more stupendous, more pitiful, and more heart-touching than
that of any city. And how strange would be the wonder if, as men wandered in the
Orient, there should come some one that should call from the mounds all the
scattered ruins of Babylon, or build again Tadmor of the desert I How strange it
would be to see a city, that at night was a waste heap, so restored that in the
morning the hght of the sun should flash from pinnacle, and tower, and wall, and
roof I How marvellous would be that creative miracle I But more marvellous, ten
thousand times, is that Divine touch by which a man, broken down and shattered,
is raised up in his right mind, and made to sit, clothed, at the feet of Jesos. (H. W.
Beecher.)
Ver. 6. But when he saw JesoB afivr off. — The sinner** place : — Jesus is afar off
in the sinner's apprehension, and the sinner is in very deed far off from God. 1.
As to character. What a difference between the demoniac and Jesus. 2. As to
knowledge. The demoniac knew Jesus, but knew little of His love. 8. As to hope.
This man had no hope of recovery, or but a faint one, and that hope the demons
tried to extinguish. 4. As to possession. The demoniac had no hold upon the
Saviour; on the contrary, he cried, "What have I to do with Thee?" Im-
measurable is the distance between God and a sinner ; it is wide as the gulf between
sin and holiness, death and life, hell and heaven. (C H. Spurgeon.) The sinner*t
wisest course : — The demoniac was all in confusion, for he was under contending in-
fluences : his own spirit and the evil spirit strove together. He ran towards Jesus,
and worshipped Him ; and yet in the same breath he cried, •' What have I to do
with Thee ? " Thus are sinners tossed about. But it is the sinner's wisest course
to run to Jesus ; for — 1. He is the Son of the Most High God. 2. He is the great
Enemy of our enemy, tJie devil. 3. He is abundantly able to drive out a legion of
devils. 4. He can cause us to be clothed in our right mind. 6. He permits us,
even now, to draw near and worship Him. (Ibid.) The law of attraction : — A
needle will move towards a magnet, when once a magnet has moved near to it. Our
heart manifests a sweet willingness towards salvation and holiness when the great
and glorious goodwill of the Lord operates upon it. It is ours to run to Jesus as if
all the running were ours ; but the secret truth is that the Lord tons towards as,
and this is the very heart of the business. {Ibid.)
Ver. 7. What haye I to do with Thee, Jesus, Thou Son of the moat bigh Ood 7-—
'.] ST. MARK. 195
Juui confronting demons: — I. The okyil cbies out against thb intbusion of
Ohbist. 1. Chriat's nature is so contrary to that of the devil, war is inevitable
when they meet. 2. There are no designs of grace for Satan ; as, therefore, he has
nothing to hope for from Jesas, he dreads His coming. 3. He wishes to be let
alone. Thoughtlessness, stagnation, and despair suit his plans. 4. He knows hi.4
powerlessness against the Son of the Most High God, and has no wish to try a fall
with Him. 5. He dreads his doom : for Jesus will not hesitate to torment him by
the sight of good done and evil overcome. U. Mbn dnoeb the devil's influence
OBT OUT AGAINST THE INCOMING 07 Ghbist bt THE GOSPEL. 1. Gousoience is feared
by them ; they do not wish to hav^3 it disturbed, instructed, and placed in power.
2. Change is dreaded by them ; for they love sin, and its gains, and pleasures, and
know that Jesus wars with these things. 3. They claim a right to be left alone :
this is their idea of religious liberty. They would not be questioned either by God or
man. 4. They argue that the gospel cannot bless them. They are too poor, too
ignorant, too busy, too sinful, too weak, too involved, perhaps too aged, to receive
any good from it. 6. They view Jesus as a tormeutor, who will rob them of plea-
sore, sting their consciences, and drive them to obnoxious duties. (Ibid.) Nothing
to do with Jems : — It is said that Voltaire, being pressed in his last moments to
acknowledge the Divinity of Christ, turned away, and said feebly, " For the love of
<Jod don't mention that Man ; let me die in peace 1 " The antagonism of evil pro-
voked by good : — The coming of Jesus into a place puts all into a commotion. The
gospel is a great disturber of sinful peace. Like the son among wild beasts, owls,
and bats, it creates a stir. In this case, a legion of devils began to move. (Ibid.)
Man reiponsible : — Universally we judge of instincts, or the qualities and disposi-
tions which make up natural character, as we see the creature brought into relation
or juxtaposition with something else, and observe, *• What it will do with it."
Especially is this true of man. This is just what makes up his probation. God
has placed him in this world that he may show forth his character, and work out
his own future condition, as he rightly uses or abuses it. Different men use the
same material, or implement, or opportunity either for good or for evil. From the
same forest and quarry one man builds a hospital, and another a gambling hell.
Out of the grain from the same harvest-field one man leavens wholesome bread, and
another distils a destroying beverage. With the same ink and type and press, one
prints Huxley's blasphemies, and another God's Bibles. And while in all this per-
haps few men are conscious that they are achieving their probation, yet verily tiiey
are. God has brought them into these conditions that the universe may see what
the man "will do with them." And according as he does evil or good, he displays
his character and decides his own destiny. I. Now this, in begabd or all things,
BYXM SECULAB AND SOCIAL, 18 THE GREAT LAW OF UFB. BuT HOW MUCH MOBS IS ITS
SOLEMNITY INCBEASBD WHEN IT HAS TO DO WITH MATTBBS BELIGIOUS AND SPIBITUAL ?
The question, in its first connection, was addressed to Christ ; and its most signifi-
eant apphcation is to the case of impenitent and ungodly men who, with a like
question, turn away from the gospel. *' Oh," say some men, '* I have nothing to
do with it 1 I am not a professing Christian ! I never joined any Church I What,
then, is all this to me? What have I to do with the gospel of Christ ? " But,
alas, for their false logic 1 they have something to do with it. Their indifference
cannot alter their relations to Uie gospel. Those relations grow out of character and
condition. I can imagine a foolish man cherishing a settled dislike to the great law
of gravitation, overlooking its beneficent results as working out, from the rounding
of a dew-drop to the rounding of a star — from the graceful equipoise of a lily's leaf
to the harmonies of the stupendous systems of the universe — all the grand and
gracious processes and phenomena of creation — overlooking all this, and thinking
that but for its restraining power he might spring up as a pure spirit into the bound-
less expanse of heaven, and wander at will from star to star through immensity. I
can conceive of such an one as disliking that great law, and in his insane hate
blaspheming the Omnipotence which devised it. But what of that ? Can the man
escape from it ? WiU God have respect to his perverted taste, and annihilate that
glorious force whereon depend all the beauties and harmonies of the universe ? Oh,
surely not. And just so it is of religion. It is that irresistible law of God under
which all immortal creatures live. In the very nature of things, retribution must
follow every act and experience of probation. Its solemn elements are twofold.
First, there is a loss of all the unspeakable blessings which the gospel offers. Con-
sider again these natnral analogies. Take the law of gravitation, And the foolish
man says : — " I do not like that law ; it is the law of falling bodies ; it dashes mea
196 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [oha». f«
down precipices ; it brings the destroying avalanche npon human habitations ; 1
will let it alone 1 ** But not so a wise man. He says, I will have something to do
with it ; it makes the pendulum vibrate ; I will set it to keep time for me ; it givei
momentum to the watercourses, it shall grind for me as a mill. And so of all tiie
natural forces of the universe : by diligently working with them we secure immense
benefits. What if a child, lost in a dangerous forest in the stormy night, amid
ravening beasts and howling tempests, catching through the darkness the gleam ol
torches and the accents of gentle voices, and beholding the face of the father who,
in agonizing love, had come forth to seek and save him, instead of springing joy-
fully into those outstretched arms, should turn away with the despising cry, '• What
have I to do with thee ? " What would you call it but madness ? And yet immea-
surably greater is the madness of the impenitent man who rejects the precious
Saviour; for the sinner's danger is more terrible, and the Saviour's love more
tender. II. In this rejection or the gospel tou incur tebriblb guilt. That
gospel is not merely an invitation, but as well a sovereign mandate. The gospel is
a law, and no law of God is ever violated with impunity. You may not believe in
God's ordinances of health ; but if you make your bed in a lazar-house you will be
stricken with pestilence. You may laugh to scorn God's law of great forces ; but if
you launch your bark above Niagara, it will sweep you to destruction. Alas I for this
folly of infidelity and atheism 1 It may be effectual in persuading its abettor to
have nothing to do with God, but is utterly powerless in persuading God to have
nothing to do with him. Retribution is an awful thought, and an awful truth. Bat
the aspect in which our text sets forth the neglect of the gospel is that ol the ntter
folly of rejecting a great blessing. {C, Wadswortht D,D.)
Ver. 9. My name Is Legion. — The legion of sin: — Truly the name of sin is Legion.
It is anger, malice, intemperance, murder, impurity, unfaithfulness, dishonesty,
equivocation, dissimulation, falsehood, hypocrisy, ingratitude, disobedience, im-
patience, discontentment, envy, covetousness ; it is profanity, formality, super-
stition, idolatry, blasphemy, and atheism. It is a repudiation of the authority,
a defiance of the power, a slight to the wisdom, a contempt of the holiness, and
nnthankf ulness for the goodness of God. It is the cause of all the error, conflict,
cruelty, suffering, weeping, and woe that exist in this world. Like a foul demon,
it has poisoned and polluted, blighted and cursed everything it has touched. It has
caused man, the noblest work of God, to become the destroyer of Ms own sool, the
murderer of his brother, the enemy of his God. {Arthur Thompson.)
Vers. 11-14. Send ns Into the swine, that we may enter into tbem. — The
demonized swine : — To clear away the difficulty presented by this miracle of judg-
ment, we must remember — (1) Pork was forbidden for food to Israel, and with go^
reason. The pigs and the dogs are the scavengers of Syria ; the pig itself is vastly
inferior to the animal as we know it, and furnishes a food too gross for such a
climate. For these and other reasons Moses prohibited its use ; for similar reason
Mohammed followed his example in doing so ; but (2) salt pork was a great article
of food with the Romans ; and therefore (3) many who, perhaps, would not nse
pork for their own food had no objections to making a profit by breeding some for
the use of others. It was contrary to the whole law, but it was remunerative. So
here several owners have together as many as two thousand. (4) Where Christ comes
in, the swine must go out. As He purged the temple in Jerusalem, so He purges
the temple of nature in Gadara. Men must part with their sine, if they want to
have their Saviour. The swine will be driven out of our hearts, if Christ enters
them. He came with mercy to Gadara, but it was not a weak but a purifying
mercy. (5) God is perpetually using the devil as His whip, with which He corrects
the follies of our heart, no evil being permitted to exist which Christ cannot
employ in some way for good. This destruction of the swine is, therefore, a call to
repentance ; a miracle that does for Christ in Gadara what John the Baptist did for
Him in Judaea, stimulating conscience and awakening solicitude. It is a message to
eonvinoe of sin. {R. Olover.)
Vers. 16, 16. Sitting, and (dothed, and In his right mind.— TA« joy ofjreedom
from Satanic tyranny : — At the death of Queen Mary of England, several Protes-
tants were in tiie prisons awaiting martyrdom. Who can tell their joy when it waf
annonnced that the tyrant was dead and they were free I But what is deliverance
from a bodily persecutor in comparison with the deliverance of a soul from the
▼.] 8T. MARK, 197
bonds of Satan? Jesns Christ comes as a conqneror to destroy the works of the
devil ; at His word the bonds of Satan's captives fall from them, and they are free.
{Sunday School Timei.) The magnitude of a moral change : — Whenever a man is
changed, as this demoniac was, the greatest change that ever can happen in this
world takes place — the transformation of a man from a life of vulgarity, of passion,
of appetite, of selfishness, of pride, and his translation into a new life, in which
purity, truth, and love are the controlling elements. As God looks upon it in its
bearings and relations to the eternal existence, there is no change that ever takes
place, no change created by skill, no change in aesthetic art, so great and beautiful
as this. It is taking place. The wonders of creation are not in Niagara, nor in the
Mammoth Cave, nor on the stormy ocean. The wonders of creation are silent. All
the thunder of the storm has not in it the power of one blade of grass. All the
winds that rock the oak, and make it groan, are not to be compared in power with
the suction that is going on in the roots of that one single oak. The powers of
nature are silent; and the transformation of men from lower and vulgar conditions of
mind into higher and spiritual conditions are the marvels, as God looks upon them.
They are the marvels of power in this world ; and not all the creations of Phidias, of
Praxiteles, of Canova, or of Ward in our modem day ; not all that Titian could do, not
all that Kaphael could do, not all that the great masters on canvas could do, in any age
since the world began, can compare with it. These are thin and superficial pictures ;
they are nothing but a suggestion of what it is when a man is translated from the
power of sin and Satan into the kingdom of light and glory. The earth ought to
shake, and every string in heaven ought to quiver, with the outblown joy. It does ;
for there is more joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner that
repenteth than over ninety and nine persons that need no repentance. (H. W.
Beecher.) Life contrasts: — The august terror of the one experience, and the
sweet beauty of the other, are almost that which we see in some days of summer.
The olouds bring forth their thunder and their lightning, and the whole earth
shakes and quivers at the awful power which the sweeping tempest exhibits. But
it sweeps on ; the clouds roll away ; the thunder grows lower and lower, and more
and more distant ; the sun breaks through ; every tree and shrub is apparelled in
jewels ; the birds begin to sing ; and the bright blue overarches the whole heavens.
As between the terror of the storm and the clearing-up of the storm there is an
analogy of beauty, certainly, with this terrible experience of the demoniac in the
tombs, and his sitting at the feet of Christ sweet as a new-bom child. {Ibid.)
Change wrought by conversion : — A young man, an apprentice in an extensive tin
factory in Massachusetts, who had been very profligate, but was converted by
reading a religious tract, having appUed for admission into a church, the minister
called on his master to inquire whether any change had been wrought in his con-
duct, and whether he had any objection to his reception. When the minister had
made the customary inquiries, his master, with evident emotion, though he was
not a professor of religion, replied in substance as follows : Pointing to an iron
chain hanging up in the room, *• Do you see that chain ? " said he. ♦• That chain
was forged for W . I was obliged to chain him to the bench by the week to-
gether, to keep him at work. He was the worst boy I had in the whole establish-
ment. No punishment seemed to have any salutary influence upon him. I could
not trust him out of my sight. But now, sir, he is completely changed — he has
really become like a lamb. He is one of my best apprentices. I would trust him
with untold gold. I have no objection to his being received into communion. I
wish all my boys were prepared to go with him."
Ver. 17. To depart out of their coasts. — The Saviour sacrificed rather than sinful
fain : — A great many men cannot afford to have Christ. Here is a man who is
renting his buildings for the most obscene and abominable purposes in the world;
his revenues depend upon lust and vice ; and, if the Spirit of God comes to regene-
rate him, he-cannot afford to have Christ with him. If he does, he must reform
his whole revenue system, and lose much possession ; and he beseeches Christ to
depart out of his coast. He does not want Him. There are a great many men who
are trafficking in intoxicating liquors in such a way that they know in their own
secret consciences that they are living upon the destruction of their fellow-men ;
and they cannot a£ford to give up their traffic for the sake of becoming Christians ;
and when the power of the Holy Ghost is upon them, they beseech Christ to depart
out of their coast. They have the opportunity of reformation and rejuvenation ;
life, and immortality, and glory, are within their reach ; but there are the swine.
198 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [ohi». ▼
In order that they may sit fti the feet of Christ, they most lose their herds oi anelean
beasts, they mast lose their anjast profits and wicked pleasures ; but, rather than
lose these, they will sacrifice the Saviour. So it was in this case. There was no
doubt as to the miracle, and its benefioenoe. There was a man before them in whom
the power of God had been made manifest, and they began to pray Christ, through
whose instrumentality this power had been made manifest, to depart out of their
coast. One would suppose that they would have besought Him to remain, and go
on with His works of mercy ; but no, they prayed Him to depart. {H, W. Beeeher.)
Regret for contempt of religion : — Alas 1 how many will, when too late, regret their
neglect of, or contempt for, religion 1 A few years ago, the Prime Minister of
England stepped across Downing Street with a friend, who wanted some information
from one of the Government officials. They entered the particular office, and on
inquiring for the Head of the Department they were curtly told to *♦ wait" by an
insolent young clerk, who did not even look up from his newspaper, and presently
added an order to " wait outside." When the principal official returned, he was
thunderstruck to find the Head of the Government sitting with his friend on the
steps of the stone staircase I Equally surprised was the clerk, when, to his dismay,
he learned by his dismissal the result of his careless insolence. In earthly things
men bitterly regret " chances " lost or thrown away, and yet we treat with indiffer-
ence our opportunities in the spiritual life 1 Witii slow and sorrowful steps the
compassionate Saviour obeyed these requests, and departed from those souls whom
He would have so gladly blessed. {W. Hardman, M.A.) The man with an
unclean spirit : — In view of this narrative, which we have thus very briefiy traced,
I remark — 1. We are tempted to undervalue man just as much as these men were.
The point of the narrative was that they were supposed to be civilized ; that they
believed tiiemselves to be religious ; that they beheld the miracle that Christ wrought
upon this man ; and that their ideas of the worth of a man were so low and so
vulgar, that they were not in the slightest degree impressed with the man's restora-
tion. There is no point where we need the application of the grace of God more
continuously than in impressing us with a sense of the Divine value of men. We
behave in the value of poets ; of philosophers ; of orators ; of men that have some-
thing pleasing to our taste, dazzling to our intellect, and stimulating to our affections ;
of eminent men ; of men of power, that produce impressions upon us. We believe
in manhood that shows itself in attractive forms. But for man, independent of
circumstances, simply as a creature of God, as an heir of immortality, and as one
that has all the future in him — a future illustrious as heaven or painful as hell —
for man as man, how little feeling have we 1 We walk the streets with contempt
for this one, and with loathing for that one. We despise the poor sinners— the
children of vice and crime — that we see on every side of us. 2. There are thousands
of men yet that are opposed to any reformation of morals that would conflict with
the physical prosperity, or the supposed physical prosperity, of the community in
which they dwell. Men are numerous, in every city or section of the oonntry, who
vote for their physical welfare against their spiritual. (H. W. Beeeher.)
Vers. 18, 20. Prayed Him that he might be with Him. — The unanswered pray er : —
I. The probable beasom that led this bebtobed dehonuo to oftsb thib praykb.
1. A vague but very dreadful fear may have taken possession of him that, perhaps,
in the absence of Christ, his deliverer, these demoniac powers might again regain
the mastery over him. Fear, the salutary fear, of going astray may often assist
the soul ; it may be, and has often been our wisdom to be afraid of the possibihty
of departure from Christ. 2. And there may have been, who can doubt that there
was, a depth of gratitude in his heart towards Christ, that, perhaps, he thought
could only be expressed by his becoming His disciple. II. Some of thx pbobablb
REASONS that LED TO THE REFUSAL OF THIS PBATEB BY OUB SaVIOUB. " Go home tO
thy friends," &o. 1. Because, perhaps, it was better for the healed Gadarene to be
a Uving witness of Christ's goodness and power amongst his countrymen. 2. Be-
cause young converts are generally unfit to choose their spiritual vocation. Many,
in the freshness of their love, are as impetuous and misguided as a mountain stream
bursting from its hidden prison. {W, O. Barrett.) Witnessing for Christ:— In
general, every man who believes himself to be a Christian, is bound to make such
pubUc acknowledgment that men shall know the source of his godly life. Every
man who is conscious that his character has been brought under the power of tiie
Spirit of God, is bonnd to let men know that the life which is flowing out from him
now is not his own natnral life, but one which proceeds from the Spirit of God.
T.] 8T, MARK. 199
^his would seem too obvions for remark, did not facts s/iow that maltitndea of
men endeavour to live Christianly, but are very cautious about saying that they
^re Christians — and from shame-faced reasons, sometimes ; from reasons of fear,
sometimes ; from reasons of pride, sometimes. Men who are endeavouring to live
Christianly say, often, " Let my example speak, and not my lips." Why should
not a man's lips and example both speak ? Why should not a man interpret hi!<
example? Why should a man leave it to be inferred, in this world, that he is still
living simply by the power of his own will 7 Why should he leave it for men to
point to him, and say, " There is a man of a well-regulated life who holds his tem-
per aright ; but see, it is on account of the household that he has around him ; it is
on account of the companionship that he keeps ; it is on account of the valorous
purpose which he has fashioned in his own mind " — thus giving credit to these
■econdary causes, and not to that Divine inspiration, that power from on high,
which gives to all secondary causes their efficiency f {H. W. Beeeher.) Personal
testimony appreciated: — Two men come together, one of whom is shrunk and crip-
pled with a rheumatic affection, and the other of whom is walking in health and
comfort ; and the well man says to the other, " My friend, I know how to pity you.
I spent fifteen as wretched years as any man ever spent in the world. I, too, was
^ miserable cripple, in the same way that you are." And the man with rheumatism
at once says, " You were? " He sees him walk; he sees how lithe and nimble he
ia; he sees that he can straighten out his limbs, and that his joints are not swollen ;
he sees that he is in the enjoyment of all his bodily power ; and he is eager to know
more about it. " Yes, I was as bad off as you are, and I suffered everything."
"Tell me what cured you." There is nothing that a man wants to hear so much
aa the history of one who has been cured, if he too is a sufferer. {Ibid.) Personal
testimony hindered by the fear of subsequent failure : — When a watch-maker sets a
watch, he almost always stops it first, in order to get the second-hand right ; and
then, at the right second, he gives it a turn, and starts it. But suppose, having
itopped a watch, he should lay it down, and should not start it till he faiew whether
it would keep time or not, how long would he wait ? There are a great many men
who are set exactly right, and all that is wanted is, that they should start, and go
«!m and keep time. But no, they are not going to tick until they know whether they
axe going to continue right or not. And what is needed is, that somebody, out of
hia own experience, should say to them, " You are under an illusion. Your reason -
isg is false. You are being held back by a misconception. You have enough sense
of flin to act as a motive. If you have wind enough to fill a sail, you have enough
to atart a voyage with. You do not need to wait for a gale before you go out of the
harhpir. If you have enough wind to get steerage-way, start I " And if a man
has «ough feeling to give him an impulse forward, let him move. After that he
will JUave- more and more feeling. {Ibid.) Personal testimony permits others to
shttiie the joy i< of the Christian experience: — I was as much struck, when I travelled
in flngland, with the stinginess of the people there, in respect to their gardens, as
witii anything else. It was afterwards explained to me, as owing partly to condi-
tion! of olimate, and partly to the notions of the people. I travelled two miles
along a park shut in by a fence, that was probably twelve feet high, of solid brick,
and coped with stone. On the other side were all sorts of trees and shrubs, and
though I was skirting along within a few feet of them, I could not see a single one
of them. There were fine gardens in which almost all the fruits in the world were
cultivated, either under glass, or against walls, or out in the open air ; and a man
might smell something in the air; but what it came from, he had to imagine.
There were plants and shrubs drooping to the ground with gorgeous blossoms, and
there might just as well as not have been an open iron fence, so that every poor
beggar child might look through and see the flowers, and feel that he had an owner-
ship in them, and congratulate himself, and say, " Are not these mine ? " Oh I I
like to see the little wretches of the street go and stand before a rich man's house,
and look over into his grounds, and feast their eyes on the trees, and shrubs, and
plants, and piebald beds, and magnificent blossoms, and luscious fruit, and com-
fort themselves with the thought that they can see everything that the rich man
owns ; and I like to hear them tell what they would do if they were only rich. And
I always feel as though, if a man has a fine garden, it is mean for him to build
around it a close fence, so that nobody but himself and his friends can enjoy it.
Bat oh 1 it is a great deal meaner, when the Lord has made a garden of Edeu in
your soul, for you to build around it a great dumb wall so close and so high that
nobody can look through it or over it, and nobody can hear the birds singing in it.
200 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [cha».
And yet, there are persons who carry a heart full of sweet, gardenesque experiencai
all the way through life, only letting here and there a very confidential friend
know anything about the wealth that is in them. (Ibid.) The gospel a livina
Christ in living men : — Why, then, did Christ refuse to allow the man to go wiA
Him? He was calling disciples, and the very watchword almost was, "Folio*
Me." But now, here was one that wanted to follow Him, doubtless from the best
motives, and He says, " Go home." Why ? Well, for the best reason in the worlds
I think. The man's nature was so transformed, the very radiancy of his joy wai
such a moral power, that not in one of the twelve disciples was there probably sf
much of the gospel as this man had in his new experience ; and He sends him oat
thus to make known the Christ ; to glow before men with trust, with gratitude, and
with love. He was a glorious manifestation of the transforming power of the gosp^
upon the human soul, and that was the power that Christ came to institute in tfaii
world. It was because he was a gospel. The gospel never can be preached. Ths
gospel can never be spoken. It is a thing that must be lived. It defies letter*.
It is a living soul in a Christ-like estate. That is the gospel. That can be maili-
fested, but it cannot be described. No philosophy can unfold it No symbols can
demonstrate it. It is life centred on love, inflamed by the conscious presence of
the Divine and the eternal. That is the real power of the gospel. (Ibid.) Th$
potoer of God working through man vpon men: — This condition of the human soul
carries with it a mysterious power which all ages and nations have associated with
the Divine presence. A man living in that high state of purity, rapture, and lo?e,
always seems sacred. He is like a man standing apart and standing above, and
seems to have been one informed with the Divine presence. That is always effiea-
cious upon the imagination of men, whether they are brutal, vulgar, or heathen.
Anything that seems to represent the near presence of God stops them, binds the
electrifies them. A great soul carrying itself greatly in the sweetness and puritj
love, in the power of intelligence, and with all other implements in its hand
around about it, suggests more nearly the sense of Divine presence than any othef
thing in this world. When the human faculties are centred upon love, and all'o!
them are inflamed by it ; when conscience, reason, knowledge, the will power, aD
skill, all taste, and all culture are the bodyguards of this central element of Chxia.
tian love, they are really, by their own nature, what electricity is by its nature, r«
what light is by its nature. They are infectious. If you want to move upon tlit
human mind, that is the one force that all men everywhere and always yieUl tiO.
The glowing enthusiastic soul, even in its lowest moods, and from its loiroat
faculties, has great contagions power. If yon raise man higher along the IqMls of
wisdom and of social excellence, still more powerful is he; if you give htm the
dimensions of a hero and make him a patriot, and give him the disintereetfdneM
of a glowing love of country and a love of mankind, still higher he rises and wider
is the circle that he shines upon ; but if yon give him the ineffable preseneeof (Sod,
if God is associated in his thought and perception, as in his own oonaeioifltoeM
with the eternities, if he has in himself all the vigour of Divine inspiration- and
walks so among men, there is no other power Uke it — no crowned power, no
sordid power, no philosophic power, no esthetic power, no artistio power.
Nothing on earth is like God in a man. {Ibid.) Men too opaqut to let
the gospel through them : — Time and time again I have felt as though I were a
window through which the sun struggled to come. You may remembt ' those old
bull's-eye windows, with the glass bulging in the centre so that the sun could not
get through them except in twilight. I have felt that the natural man in me waa
so strong that not half the light of the gospel came through. Or, as yon have seen,
in an attic long nnvisited by the broom, the only windows, jutting out from under
the gable, have been taken possession of by dust and spiders, until a veil is woven
over them, and the sun outside cannot get inside except as twilight 1 So men,
cumbered with care and worldly conditions, and all manner of worldly ambitions,
attempting to preach the doctrinal Christianity, are too opaque, or too nearly
opaque, to let the gospel through. (Ibid. ) The testimony of a gospel life toithin
the reach of every variety of talent : — This issue comes home to all souls alike. It
is the solvent of the difficulties which we feel in diversities of talent. One Chris-
tian man says, " How can I be expected to do much good? I am not eloquent, I
am not an apostle, I am not Apollos, I am not a Paul." Another man says, **!
should be very glad if I were a man of aflairs ; I should like to live a Christian lifb
in the conduct of affairs ; but I have no ability." Now, the gospel force belongs to
every man alike. If yon are low in life, yon are susceptible of living like Christ.
. f .] ST, MARK, 201
If you are very high in life, yon are sueceptible of living a Chriet-like life. If you
are wise and educated, that is the life for you. If you are ignorant, that is just aa
much the Ufe for you. It does not lie in those gifts that the world prizes, and
justly prizes, too. It is something deeper than that, far more interior than that ;
and it is clothed by the creative idea of God with an influence over men's souls
greater than any other. Wherever you are ; whether you are poor, obscure, mean,
even sick and bedridden, or in places of conspicuity, the highest, the lowest, and
the middle, all come to a gracious unity. Not only that, but they all feel resting
upon them the sweet obligations of the duty of loving Christ, of being like Christ,
of loving our fellow men. When we shall become communal, whenever the coronal
faculties of the human soul are in ascendency and in sympathetic unity, the world
will not linger another eighteen hundred years before it will be illumined. The
new heavens will come, and the new earth. (Ibid.) The apostle to the
Gadarenei : — Things must have looked perplexing enough to this poor man !
"Go home to thy friends 1 " "But, Lord, I have no friend but Thee. I have
been an outcast now these many jears — a dweller in unclean sepulchres,
•bhorred of men. What have men done for me but bind me in chains and fetters
of iron f But Thy hand hath loosed my bonds of pain, and bound me with Thy
love. Let me be with Thee where Thou art I " But still from that most gracious
One came the inexorable " Go back — back to thy friends and thy father's house.
Go, tell them what the Lord hath done for thee." " What ? I, Lord ? I, so dis-
used to rational speech? whose lips and tongue were but now the organs of
demoniac blasphemy ? I, just rallying from the rending of the exorcised fiends ?
I, surrounded by a hostile people that have just warned away my Lord and Saviour
from their coasts ? And can I hope that they will hear my words, who turn a deaf
and rebellious ear to Thee ? Nay, Lord, I entreat Thee let me be with Thee,
there sitting at Thy feet clothed and in my right mind, that men may look and
point at me and glorify my Lord, my Saviour 1 Let them go, whose zeal to tell of
Thee even Thy interdict cannot repress — there be many such, send them I But let
me be near Thee, be with Thee, and gaze, and love, and be silent, and adore I "
Was ever a stronger argument of prayer ? And yet the little boat moves off, and
Christ departs, and the grateful believer is left alone to do the work for which he
seems so insufficient and unfit 1 How like Christ's dealing is to His Father's I To
translate the story into the terms of our daily life it shows us — I. That the path
OF DUTY which ChBIST HAS MASKED OUT rOB US MAY BE THE OPPOSFTE 07 THAT WHICH
WE NATURAIiLY THINK AND ABDENTLY DBSIBB. All OUT natural aptitudcS, aS We
estimate them, yea, our purest and highest religious aspirations, may draw us
toward a certain line of conduct, while on the other hand the manifest indications
of God's Word and providence inexorably close up that way and wave us off in
another direction. U. When belioious pbivilbob and beligioub duty seem to
OONTLIOT, THE DUTY IS TO BE PBEFERBED ABOVE THE PBIVILEOE. III. DUTY, PBEFEBBED
AND FOLLOWED INSTEAD OF PBIVILEOE, BECOMES ITSELF THE SUPBEME PBIVILEGB. The
interests of the soul are very great, but they are not supreme. The supreme
interests are those of the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and whoso, for-
getting the interests of his own soul, shall follow after these, shall surely find that
all things beside are added unto him. {L. W, Bacon.) Ooing home— a Christmas
ttory : — I. What they abe to tell. Personal experience. A story of free grace.
A story filled with gratitude. II. Why they abb to tell it. For the Master's
sake. To make others glad. HI. How is this stoby to be told ? 1. Truthfully.
3. Humbly. 3. Earnestly. 4. Devoutly. (C. H. Spur g eon.) The refused
request : — It was a natural prayer of gratitude and sweetness. Why, when Christ
grants the bad prayer of the people, does He deny the good prayer of the restored
sufferer ? I. Msboy to the man himself. 1. To teach him to walk by faith, not
by sight. 2. To leave his fears of a return of his affliction unsanctioned. 3. To
indicate that Christ's work was perfect, not in danger of relapse. 4. To suggest
tiiat a distant Christ, if trusted, is as strong to save as a Christ who is nigh at hand.
11. Meboy to the Gebqesenes. The presence of the Lord oppressed them. The
presence of a disciple among them was (1) a link to Him, and (2) a testimony of
Him. So the man is left, a living gospel, seeing whom, others may reflect, repent,
and ultimately believe. III. Mebcy to the family of tee bestobed man. His
family had suffered much pain, and probably poverty ; let them have the pleasure
of seeing his health and peace, and the advantage of his care. For wife
and children's comfort he should return. How thoughtful is Christ of our best
Interests, even when He is crossing our wishes 1 How merciful in leaving aD
202 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [oha». ▼
evangelist with those on whom some would have called down fire from heaven !
{R. Glover.) Christ's disinterestedness : — Do you ever find, among all the persons
whom Christ miraculously cured, a single one whom He retained to be afterwards
near Him as His disciple, His attendant. His votary ? . . . Where now is your
worldly friend who will behave himself towards you in this fashion ? So far from
it, no sooner has he done you any service, however trifling, than he immediately
lays a claim upon you for your daily attendance upon him. He requires you to be
henceforth always at his elbow, and to be giving him continually every possible
proof of your gratitude, of your devoted and even slavish attachment to his person.
{Segneri.) The home missionary : — A converted man should be a missionary to hia
fellow-men. L Christian missionaby wore, the duty op every converted mah,
should be undertaken (1) out of gratitude to God ; (2) from regard to human need;
(3) to promote the glory of Christ. II. Christian effort should begin at home.
in. Christian usefulness must be based on personal experience. IV. Chbistiaii
(OBEDIENCE WILL BE CROWNED WITH THE REWARD OP SUCCESS. {H. PhUUpS.) The
mission oftlie saved : — Men saved from Satan— 1. Beg to sit at Jesus' feet, clothed,
and in their right mind. 2. Ask to be with Him always, and never to cease from
personal attendance upon Him. 3. Go at His bidding, and publish abroad what
great things He has done for them. 4. Henceforth have nothing to do but to live
ior Jesus and for Him alone. Come, ye despisers, and see yourselves as in a
looking-glass. The opposite of all this is true of you. Look until you see your-
selves transformed. (C. H. Spurgeon.) The restored demoniac: — I. An in
TERESTiNO PRAYER which notwithstanding was rejected. 1. The prayer itself — " To
be with Christ." Was not this the end of Christ's mission, that He might collect
Bouls to Himself ? Gather them out of the world, <feo. It seems evidently a wise
and proper prayer, a pious prayer, the sign of a gracious state of souL 2. The
probable reasons by which this prayer was dictated. It might be the result (1) Of
holy cautiousness and fear. (2) From grateful love to Jesus. (3) From a desire
to know more of Christ. 3. The refusal of this request. " But Christ sent him
away." However wise and proper and pious the man's petition appears, Jesnt
determined and directed otherwise ; his suit could not be granted. Here let as
pause and learn (1) how necessary to be taught rightly to pray. We know not
what we should pray for. (2) We should learn to be satisfied with the Lord's good
pleasure whether He grants our requests or not. IL An important command wbicb
WAS PIOUSLY OBEYED. " Jcsus Bcut him," &0. 1. The nature of the command.
He was to be a personal witness for Christ ; a monument of Christ's power and
compassion. He could testify ^1) to the enthronement of reason. (2) To emancipa-
tion from the thraldom of evil spirits. (3) To restoration to happiness. (4) To
the Author of his deliverance, "Jesus," 2. The obedience which was rendered.
(1) It was prompt and immediate. He did not cavil, nor reason, nor refuse. (2>
It was decided and public. Not afraid, nor ashamed. Application : 1. The end
of our conversion is more than our own salvation. (1) We must testify to and for
the benefit of others. (2) We must glorify Christ. 2. The converted should not
consult merely their own comfort. 3. Christian obedience is unquestioning and
exact. 4. The hearts' desires of the saints shall be granted in a future state. Be
with Jesus for ever, Ac. {J. Bums, D.D., LL.D.) At the feet of Jesus :— Two
grand features in the close of the parable. I. The POsmoM in which the man was
FOUND. 1. How interesting is this spectacle. It was the place of nearness to
Jesus and intimate communion with Him. Perhaps he selected this place also as
the site of safety, or, he may have been seeking that instruction which was
requisite to guide and to direct him. 2. What took place in the cas^
of the demoniac is only a fore-light of what will take place in the caa
of all creation. U. The petition that hx uioht be allowed to remain
WITH Him OB to accompany Him. Why ? 1. Because he might have recol
lected the fact of which the words are the description (Matt. xii. 43). If wt
have obtained anything from Christ for which we feel thankful, we shall b»
jealous lest we lose it. 2. To give expression to the deep love that he felt to Him.
III. The actual answer that Christ oavk him. Explain the seeming contradiction
between this and Luke viii. 56 and others. We have in this indirect but striking
evidence of the divinity of the character of Jesus, A mere, common wonder-worker
would have been too glad of having a livins specimen of his great power to aooom-
pany him into all lands, &o. We have these great lessons taught ni : 1. That
he that receives the largest blessing from Christ is bound to go and be the largeU
and most untiring distributor of that blessing. We receive not for ourselves, but
. ▼.] ST. MARK. 903
for diffusion, Ac. 2. That the way, if you ar« Chri>,tian8, to be with Christ, and t9
be with Him most closely, is to go out and labour for Christ with the greatest dili-
gence. We are never so near to Christ as when, in His spirit and in His name,
we are doing His work and fulfilling His will, 3. That labouring for Christ,
according to Christ's command, is the very way to enjoy the greatest happiness
that results from being with Christ. Labour for Christ and happiness from Christ
are twins that are never separated. 4. That as Christ, in healing the demoniac,
had an object beyond him, so, in healing us. He has an object beyond us, 6. But
there is something very instructive, too, in the place that the Saviour bade this
recovered demoniac go to. Go to the sphere in which providence has placed you,
and into that sphere bring the glorious riches with which grace has enriched you,
. . . Test your missionary powers at home before you try them in the school, &c.
The little home, the family, is the fountain that feeds with a pure and noble
population the large home, which is the country. Let us begin at home, but
let us not stop there. 6. Conceive, if yon can, the return of the man to his
home — the picture realized in his reception. (J. Cumming, D.D.) The power of
home in regenerating society : — Loyalty, and love, and happiness in Britain's
homes, will make loyalty, and happiness, and love be reflected from Britain's altars
and from Britain's shores. There may be a mob, or there may be slaves ; but let
statesmen recollect there cannot be a people unless there be a home. I repeat, there
may be in a country slaves, or there may be mobs, but there cannot be in a country a
people, the people, unless it be a country of holy and happy homes. And he that
helps to elevate, sustain, ennoble, and sanctify the homes of a country, con-
tributes more to its glory, its beauty, its permanence, than all its legislators, its
laws, its literature, its science, its poetry together. Our Lord began at the first
home that was found at Bethabara beyond Jordan — the home of Andrew and
Peter ; and starting from it, he carried the glorious gospel of which he was the
author into the home of Mary and Martha at Bethany, of Cornelius the centurion,
of Lydia, of the gaoler of Philippi, of Crispus, and finally of Timothy ; and
these consecrated and converted homes became multiplying foci amid the world's
darkness, tUl the scattered and 'ever multiplying lights shall be gathered one day
into one broad blaze, that shall illuminate and make glad the wide world. Let us
begin at home, but let us not stop there. It is groups of homes that make a con-
gregation; it is clusters of congregations that make a country. {J. Gumming, D.D.)
The return of the cured demoniac : — He went home, and proclaimed not only there,
but in all Decapolis, what God^ had done for him. Conceive, if you can, the
picture realized in his reception. ' He turns his face quietly to his home the first
time, perhaps, for years — the first time, at least, that he recollects. One child of
his, looking from the casement, sees the father return, and gives the alarm : every
door is doubly bolted ; the mother and children chng together in one group, lest
the supposed still fierce demoniac, who had so often torn and assailed them before,
should again tear and utterly destroy them. But a second child, looking, calls
out, "My father is clothed; before he was not clothed at all." A third child
shouts to the mother, *• My father is not only clothed, but he comes home so
quietly, so beautifully, that he looks ai when he dandled us upon his knee, kissed
us, and told us sweet and interesting stories : can this be he ? " A fourth exclaims,
" It is my father, and he seems so gentle, and so quiet, and so beautiful — come,
my mother, and see." The mother, not beheving it to be true, but wishing it
were so, runs and looks with sceptical belief ; and lo I it is the dead one alive, it is
the loit one found, it is the naked one clothed, it is the demon-possessed one,
holy, happy, peaceful ; and when he comes and mingles with that glad and wel-
ooming household, the group upon the threshold grows too beautiful before my
imagination for me to attempt to delineate, and its hearts are too happy for human
language to express. The father crosses the threshold, and the inmates welcome
him home to their fire-side. The father gathers his children around him, while
his wife sits and listens, and ie not weary with hstening the whole day and the
whole night, as he tells them how One who proclaimed Himself to be the Messiah,
who is ^e Prophet promised to the fathers, the Wonderful, the Counsellor, the
mighty God, the everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace, spake to him, exorcised the
demons, and restored him to his right mind, and made him happy. (Ibid.) Work
for Chri$t the way to retain the vision of Him : — A poor monk, who, in spite ol hif
cowl, seems from the fact to have been one of God's hidden ones, was one day,
according to » mediaeval legend, meditating in his celL A glorious vision burst
cpon him, it is recorded, with the brilliancy of noon-day, and revealed in its
204 TEE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [cha». ▼
bosom the **Man of Sorrows," the " acqnainted with grief." The monk was
gazing on the spectacle charmed, delighted, adoring. The convent bell rang ; and
that bell was the daily signal for the monk to go to the poor that were crowding
round the convent gate, and distribute bread and fragments of food among them.
The monk hesitated whether he should remain to enjoy the splendid apocalypse,
or should go out to do the daily drudgery that belonged to hun. At last he de-
cided on the latter ; he left the vision with regret, and went out at the bidding of
the bell to distribute the alms, and bread, and crumbs among the poor. He
returned, of course expecting that, because of his not seeming to appreciate it, the
vision would be darkened ; but to his surprise, when he returned, the vision was
there still, and on his expressing his amazement that his apparent want of
appreciating it and being thankful for it should be overlooked, and that the vision
should still continue in augmented splendour, a voice came from the lips of the
Saviour it revealed, which said, " If you had stayed, I had not." This may be a legend
but it teaches a great lesson — that active duty in Christ's name and for Christ's sake
is the way to retam the vision of His peace in all its permanence and power. {Ibid.)
The three prayers : — Here are three prayers, the prayer of the devils, of the Gadarenes,
and of the demoniac who had been restored. The first prayer was answered, and
the devils obtained their wish ; the second was complied with, but the last was re-
fused, though all he asked was permission to be with Christ ; surely there must be
something very instructive in all this, otherwise it would not have been registered.
I. " And all the devils besouoht Jesus, bayino, send ub into thb bwinb."
Here, the devils acknowledge the power of Christ over them ; they cannot injure
even » brute without leave. This is orthodox so far as it goes, and even beyond
the creed of many who profess themselves Christians. None of the devils in hell
disbelieve the divinity of Christ. But cannot faith save us f It can, but not such
faith as is purely a conviction of truth. All Christians know that their specula-
lative surpasses their experimental and practical religion. But will devils pray f
and will they be heard ? Yes — " and forthwith Jesus gave them leave." Their
request was founded on malice and mischief, in order to render Christ obnoxious
to the Gadarenes, through the spoiling of their goods. Permission was given in
judgment. Satan killed the children of Job ; but Job triumphed in his tried. The
t ame permission was given to Satan to tempt the Gadarenes, how different the
result ; he destroyed their property and them with it. The gold will endure the
furnace, the dross will not. II. They baw the poob wbetch dispossessed, and
INSTEAD OV BBINGINO ALL THEIB SICK TO BB HEALED BESOUOHT JeSUB TO DEFABT.
How dreadful was this prayer i Oh, if you were of Moses yon would say,
" If Thy presence go not with us, suffer us not to go np hence." David said,
•' Cast me not away from Thy presence." You need the Saviour's presence
as much as the earth needs the sun; in adversity, death, judgment. Observe,
you may pray thus without words, actions speak louder than words. When
you would tell a man to be off, it is done without speaking ; an eye, a finger,
nay, but turning your back will effect it. God interprets your meaning, he trans-
lates your actions into intelligible language. Wonder not if God takes you at your
word ; He punishes sin with sin ; sealing men's eyes when they \nll not see ;
withdrawing grace that is neglected. III. Thb poob patient pbated to bs with
Christ. I. His prayer arose from fear. 2. From gratitude. 8. From love.
Every one who has obtained grace prays, " Lord, show me Thy glory." Learn :
1. To think correctly of answers to prayers — that God may hear in wrath, or refuse
a petition in kindness. God can distinguish our welfare from our wishes. 2.
There is no ostentation in the miracle. The pure benevolence of Jesus terminated
with the individual. The religion of Jesus Christ calls us into the world, as well
as out of it. It calls us out, as to its spirit and maxims, in, as the sphere of
activity, and place of trial. The idea of living among the wretched Gadarenes
nmst have been uncomfortable to the renewed mind of the poor man, yet he is
directed to go, without murmuring or gainsaying ; not, indeed, in the spirit of the
Pharisee, nor of the rigid professor, who, while he confesses a man can have
nothing, except it be given him from above, is occupied all the day in maligning
and censuring his neighbours ; but to display the meekness and gentleness of
Jesus Christ in his conduct and conversation, to relate his recovery, to honour the
Physician, and to direct others unto Him. Oh, if there were a history of all whom
the Saviour has made whole, what a work would it be. {W, Jay.) Home
piety a proof of real religion: — He that is not relatively godly, is not really so;
a man who is bad at home is bad throughout, and this reminds me of a wise reply
T.] 8T. MARK,
of Whitfield to the qaestion " Is such a one a good man ? '* " How should I know
that? I never lived with him." {Ibid.) The recovered demoniac: — I. Ths
man's request. We cannot wonder that his mind should shrink at the thought of
the devil's returning in the absence of our Lord. He may have heard of such
oases. ** When the unclean spirit is gone out of a man . . . the last state of that
man is worse than the first." Thus the soul rescned from Satan is frequently for
a time unable to rejoice, but appears to " receive the spirit of bondage again to
fear." Our feeHngs, after any unexpected deliverance or event, are such that we"
find it difficult to believe its reality. Go, tell the mother who has heard of the
shipwreck of her child, that her son who was dead is alive again, she is with
difficulty persuaded of its truth. And when so much is at stake we should fear
for those who do not sometimes fear for themselves. Can the Christian, harassed
by rising corruption, beset with temptation, feel no concern ? II. Oub Lord's
ANSWER. We might have supposed, after the great salvation Jesus had wrought
for him. He would not have been reluctant to grant him any favour, especially
when the request was dictated by gratitude. 1. The reply showed the modesty of
the Saviour. 2. Also His compassion for the man's friends. Mercy to one
member of the family should be an encouragement to all the rest. 3. And the
great object which every man truly converted to God will keep perpetually in
view is, the promotion of the Divine glory, and the extension of the Redeemer's
kingdom, in the salvation of those around him. The wife of his bosom, the
parent, the brother, or the child ; reason, as well as affection, points out these as the
first objects of our concern. Behgion does not petrify the feelings, and make us
to be so absorbed in seeking our own safety, as to be indifferent to the fate of
those about us ; the grace of God does not annihilate the sympathies, or snap the
bonds of nature ; no, it strengthens and refines those sympathies, deepens the
channel in which the affections flow, and purifies and consecrates the stream. But
are there not some, who, instead of entreating Jesus that they may go with Him,
are saying of the world and of the flesh, We have loved these, and after them we
will go? But, fellow-sinners, be persuaded it is the way of transgression, it is
hard. {S, Bridge, M.A,)
Vers. 21, 23, 86, 43. Jalrua by name.— il proper prayer :— Better prayers,
perhaps, had been offered. He would have shown more faith if he had prayed like
the centurion (Luke vii. 7). But, though he does not show such strong faith, yet
it is a good prayer. For it is (1) humble : he falls at Christ's feet; (2) believing :
he feels Christ is omnipotent to heal ; (8) bold : he offers it in face of all the people,
many of whom would be shocked that a ruler of the synagogue should acknowledge
Jesus ; (4) loving, springing from a pure affection. Distress is a great schoolmaster.
It teaches men many things ; among the rest the greatest of all attainments — the
power to pray. {R. Olaver.) A revived flower : — And that bright flower bloomed
in the vase of that happy home, more beautiful because the look of Jesus had given
it new tints, and the breath of Jesus had given it new fragrance. {J. Cumming,
D.D.) Jairus* daughter ;— Jairus was a good man. His light was small, but
real. It was feeble, but from heaven. I. Hb had mijoh to tbt his faith. One
seems to see all tiie father in th# tenderness of his words. Hope was over, — his
daughter was dead. Thus is it with the behever. Instead of the rehef he hoped
for, all seems as death. Thus does the Lord try the faith He gives. Thus by
causing as to wait for the blessing does He endear it. H. Thb kftbct of this
TRIAL OF FAITH. He did not distrust the power or willingness of the compassionate
Saviour. His faith takes no denial, he still continues with Jesus. Faith hopes
against hope. True faith partakes of his nature who exercises it, therefore in all,
it is weak at times. But it partakes also of His nature who gives it, and therefore
evinces its strength in the very midst of that weakness. IH. But wherever found,
IT 18 oraoiouslt REWARDED. The scomers are without ; but believing Jairus and
the believing mother (ver. 40) are admitted. They see the mighty power of God put
forth on behalf of their daughter. What an enoo ragement here to some anxious
parent to put the case of their dear child in the ands of that same Jesus. How
often has domestic affliction been the means of bringing the soul to the feet of
Jesus. Mark the extreme tenderness of Jesus, ♦• Fear not, only believe." Be not
afraid convicted sinner. My blood is sufficient, My grace and love are sufficient.
(J. H, Evam, M.A.) The Humane Society .—I. Thb partioulab form of thb
Budebmbb's wobk. 1. Bestoration from a special form of death. 8. Here was tha
veoognition of the valne of life—" She shall live." It is not mere life on which
206 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [oha». r.
Christianity has ebed a richer value. It is by ennobling the purpose to which life
is to be dedicated that it has made life more precious. 3. We consider the Saviour's
direction respecting the meaus of effecting a complete recovery. He " commanded
that something should be given her to eat." His reverential submission to the
laws of nature. II. Thk spirit of the Redeemer's Work. 1. It was love. He
did good because it was good. 2. It was a spirit of retirir j^ modesty. He did not
wish it to be known. 3. It was a spirit of perseveranoe. Calm perseverance
amidst ridicule. {F. W. Robertsoii.) Not dead, but sleeping : — Nature puts on a
shroud at seasons, and seems to glide into the grave of winter. Autumnal blasts
come sobbing through the trees, and leaf after leaf, shrivelling its fibres at the
killing contact, comes drifting to the ground. The hedgerows where the May flowers
and the dog-rose mixed their scents are stripped and bare, and lift their thorny fingers
up to heaven. The field where fat and wealthy-looking crops a while ago promised
their golden sheaves, is now spread over with a coarse fringe of stubble, and seems
a sort of hospital of vegetation. The garden shows no more its beauties, nor sheds
forth its scent, but where the coloured petal and the painted cup of the gay flower
were seen, there stands a blighted stem, or a drooping tuft of refuse herbs. The
birds which carolled to the summer sky have fled away, and their note no longer
greets the ear. The very daisies on the meadow are buried in the snow-wreath, and
the raw blast howls a sad requiem at the funeral of nature. But those trees, whose
leafless branches seem to wrestle with the rough winds that toss them, are not dead.
Anon, and they shall again be wreathed in verdure and bedecked with blossom.
The softened breath of spring shall whisper to the snowdrop to dart forth its
modest head, and shall broider the garden-path again with flowers ; the fragrance
of the hawthorn bloom ere long shall gush froiXi those r.aked hedge-rows, and the
returning lark shall wake the morning with a new and willing song. No, nature is
not dead ! There is a resurrection coming on. Spring with its touch of wizardry
shall wake her from her slumbers, and sound again the key-note of the suspended
music of the spheres. So also shall there arise out of the raging conflagration, in
whose fevered heat the elements shall melt and shrivel like a scroll — even out of
the very ashes which betoken its consumption — a new heaven and a new earth — an
earth as ethereal and pure as heaven itself — and a heaven as substantial and as
living as the earth. And consentaneously with the arising of these new worlds, the
tombs shall open, and send forth the shrouded tenants, to enter on the inheritance
which, in that new economy, shall be theirs. Can you believe that faded flowers shall
revive at the blithe beckoning of the spring, that little leaves will quietly unfold at
the mandate of the morning, and yet there shall be no spring to beckon the mortal
back to life, and no morning to command the clay to clothe itself with the garments
of a quickening spirit ? Can you beheve that the great temple shall arise with all
its shrines rebuilded, and its altars purified after the final burning, but that there
shall be neither voice nor trumpet to call forth the high- priest from his slumber to
worship at those shrines, and to lay a more enduring offering upon those waiting
altars? Is the fuel to be ever laid, and none to kindle the burnt-offering? Is the
sanctuary to be prepared, and none to pay the service ? Is the bridegroom to stand
alone before the altar, and no bride to meet him at the nuptials ? God forbid ! The
high-priest is not dead — the bride has not perished — they are not dead, but sleep.
Sound forth the tnmipet, and say that all is ready, and then the corruptible will
put on incorruption, and the mortal will put on immortality. Thus, when we lay
our kindred in the earth, and follow to their final resting-place the last remains of
those who occupied a cherished chamber in our hearts — while nature finds it hard
to dry the tear and quench the sigh — faith ever lifts the spirit from its sad despon-
dency, by assuring us of a reunion beyond the grave — and robs the monster of
one-half his terrors — weakening his stroke and taking away his sting, by changing
the mystic trance into which he throws his victims into a transient sleep, and
speaking of a waking-time of happiness and joy. Nature will look on death as an
assassin who murders those we love ; but Faith regards him as a nurse who hushes
them to sleep, and sings a lullaby and not a requiem beside their bed. To faith it
is a sleeping draught and not a poison which the visitor holds to the drinker's
lips ; for it hails the time when the lethargy of the sepulchre shall be east off, and
the spirit shall arise like a tired slumberer refreshed by sleep, to spend an endless
morning in the energy of an ndless youth. (A. Mursell.) The death of the
young eneourage$ a spirit of dependence on Ood in the home-life of this world : — It
brings the unseen Hand to bear very directly and potently on the soul's deepest
and most hidden springs. Let us suppose for a moment that there was a revealed
T.] 8T. MARK. a07
ordinance of heaven that every human being bom into this world should Uve to
three-BCore years and ten, and then quietly lie down to rest, and awake in eternity.
Would it enrich or impoverish the life of the human world ? I venture to think
that it would impoverish it unspeakably. The passage of these little ones through
the veil, of infants and children, of young men and maidens, of men and women
in their prime, brings God's hand very near, and keeps its pressure on the most
powerful springs of our nature, our warmest affection, and our most constant and
active care. It is not the uncertainty which is the strongest element of the influence,
though no doubt that keeps ns vigilant and anxious, and helps to maintain the full
strain of our power. It is rather the constant contact with a Higher Will, which,
keeps us in humble, hopeful dependence, which gives and withbolds, lends and
recalls, by a wisdom which we cannot fathom, but which demands our trust on the
basis of a transcendent manifestation of all-suffering and aU-sacrificing love. (/.
B. Brown^ B.A.) The death of the young imparts a consecrating influence to the
home-life: — It brings heaven all round ns when we know that at any moment the
veil may be lifted, and a dear life may vanish from our sight, not, blessed be Christ,
into the shades, but into the brightness which is beyond. And when the life hat»
vanished it leaves a holy and consecrating memory in the home. Something is in
the home on earth which also belongs to the home on high. Never does the home-
life and all its relations seem so beautiful, so profound, so sacred, as when Death
has laid his touch on *• a little one," and gathered it as a starry flower for the
fields of light on high. It makes the Ufe of the home more anxious, more bur-
dened by care and pain, but more blessed. The nearness at any moment of
resistless Death makes us find a dearer meaning in the word, " the whole family in
heaven and on earth " — a thought which saturates the whole New Testament, and
is not dependent on one text for its revelation. We know then how precious is
its meaning, and earth gains by its loss as well as heaven. (Ibid.) The death of
the young lends a tender, home-like interest to the life of the unseen world: — The
home, remember, is where the children are. There are those of us who never found
the deeper meaning of the Father's love and the everlasting home till a dear child
had gone on before. The death of the little ones, while it ought to make the earthly
life heaven-like on the one hand, is meant to make heaven home-Uke on the other.
The Lord dethroned and discrowned Death by bearing the human form, living,
through His realm of terror. The living Lord abolished death by living on through
death, and flawing the splendours of heaven through the shades. The children,
as they follow Christ through the gloom, make Death seem beautiful as an angel.
Thenceforth we, too, have, not our citizenship only, but our home-life in the two
worlds. (Ibid.) Jesus stronger than death: — And just remember, that when
Jesna allows death to knock at your door, and to come in, it is not because death
is stronger than He. It is because He has a good reason for permitting it. He is
BO completely the Master of death that He makes it His messenger to do His bid-
ding ; and when death comes to our dwelling and takes away one we love, let ub
bear in mind that death is not Jesus' enemy but His messenger. He is like an
angel ; he takes away our friend in his bosom. He has no power at all over us
without JesuB. (Anon.) The healing of Jairus* daughter! — I. The case brought
before Jesus. A bodily disease as usual. No spiritual cases, though more impor-
tant, n. The persons who brought it. A ruler, &o. He had heard Christ's
teaching. He had seen His miracles. No mention made, &o., till distress. HI.
The character in which he came — a parent. IV. The manner in which he came.
Reverently. Earnestly. Behevingly. V. At the request of Jairus, Christ arose
and accompanied him. Christ encouraged such applications — He does so still.
{Expository Discourses,) I. Chbist's bestorattvk powbb tiunscbnds tbck
OBniKABY EXPECTATIONS OP HANEIKD. II. ChBIST'S BB8T0BAT1VK POWEB IS BXEBTED ON
OBTAIN CONDITIONS. 1. Eamcst entreaty. 2. A reverential spirit. III. Chbist'b
bestobativb powbb accomplishes its object with thb greatest ease. ly.
Chbist's bestobativb power confounds thb scoffino sceptic with its bkbult.
Scoffing infidelity is destined to be confounded. There were scoffers in the days of
Noah, and they were confounded when the deluge came. There were scoffers in
the days of Lot, and they were confounded when the showers of fire fell. There are
scoffers now, and when they shall see Him " coming in His glory with all His holy
angels," these atheists, deists, and materiahsts, will be utterly confounded. (David
Thomas, DJ).) Death a sleep : — Homer fittingly calls sleep ** the brother of death " ;
they are so much alike. On the lips of Jesus, however, the word sleep acquires a richer
and mightier import than it ever possessed before. Amply has BLis use of the tenn
208 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap, v,
been justified in the last hour of tens of thousands of his devout foUov^ers. Thsy
laid themselves down to die, not as those who dread the night because of the
remembrance of hours when, like Job, they were ** scared with dreams " and •' terri-
fied through visions," but like tired labourers, to whom night is indeed a season of
peaceful refreshment. And how imperceptibly they sank into their last slnmbei I
Their transition was so mild and gradual, that it was impossible for those who stood
round their dying pillow to say exactly when it took place. There was no struggl-e,
no convulsion. The angel of death spread his wide, white wings meekly ovwr
them, and then, with a smile upon their pallid countenance, serene and lovely »s
heaven itself, they closed their eyes on all terrestrial objects, and fell asleep ia
Jesus. And that sleep is as profound throughout as it was tranquil at the beginning.
The happy fireside and the busy exchange — the halls of science and the houses of
legislation — the oft-frequented walk and the holy temple — are nothing to them now.
Suns rise and set, stars travel and glisten ; but they see them not ; tempests howl,
thunders roll and crash; but they hear them not. Nothing can disturb those
slumbers, " till the day dawn and the shadows flee away." Then will the voice of
the archangel sweep over God's acre, and awake them all. Oh, wondrous awaking I
what momentous consequences hang on thee 1 (Edwin Davies.) Death a sleep : —
I. Si-EEP IB REST, or gives rest to the body : so death. 1. Rest from labour and
travail. 2. Best from trouble and opposition. 3. Best from passion and grief. 4. Best
from sin, temptation, Satan, and the law. II. Sleep is not pebpetual ; we sleep
and wake again ; so, though the body lie in the grave, yet death is but a sleep ; we
shall wake again. III. The sleep op some men differs very much pbom that
OP others : so the death of saints differs from that of the wicked. 1. Some men
sleep before their work is done ; so some die before their salvation is secured. 2.
Some fall asleep in business and great distraction, others in peace. 3. Some dread
the thought of dying, because of the dangers that lie beyond. But saints have no
fear. 4. Some fall asleep in dangerous places, and in the midst of their enemies —
on the brink of hell, surrounded by the spirits of perdition. But saints die in the
view of Jesus; in the love and covenant of Jesus. IV. A mam that sleeps is
GENERALLY KASiLY AWAKENED : SO the body in death shall be much more easily
awakened at the last day than the soul can now be aroused from its sleep of sin.
(B. Keach.) Why death of the godly is called sleep : — The reason why the death
of the godly is called a sleep in Scripture is this : because there is a fit resemblance
between it and natural sleep ; which resemblance consists chiefly in these things.
1. In bodily sleep men rest from the labours of mind and body. So the faithful,
dying in the Lord, are said to rest from their labours (Bev. xiv. 13). 2. After
natural sleep men are accustomed to awake again ; so, after death, the bodies of
the saints shall be awaked, i.e., raised up again to life out of their graves at the
last day. And as it is easy to awake one out of a natural sleep, so is it much more
easy with God, by His almighty power, to raise the dead at the last day. 8. As
after natural sleep the body and outward senses are more fresh and lively than
before ; so likewise after that the bodies of the saints, being dead, have for a time
slept in their graves as in beds, they shall awake and rise again at the last day in
a far more excellent state than they died in, being changed from corruption to in-
corruption, from dishonour to glory, from weakness to power, from natural to
spiritual bodies (1 Cor. xv. 42). 4. As in natural sleep the body only is said
properly to sleep, not the soul (the powers whereof work even in sleep in some
sort, though not so perfectly as when we are waking) : so in death, only the bodies
of the saints do die and lie down in the graves, but their souls return to God who
gave them (Eccles. xii. 7), and they live with God even in death and after death.
5. As sleep is sweet to those who are wearied with labour and travail (Eccles. v. 12),
so also death is sweet and comfortable to the faithful, being wearied and turmoiled
with sin, and with the manifold miseries of this life. (O. Petter.) Death oj
children : — God cultivates many flowers, seemingly only for their exquisite beauty
and fragrance. For when, bathed in soft sunshine, they have burst into blossom,
then the Divine hand gathers them from the earthly fields to be kept in crystal
vases in the deathless mansions above. Thus little children die — some in the sweet
bud, some in the fallen blossom ; but never too early to make heaven fairer and
sweeter with their immortal bloom. {Wadsworth.) Ooeth in where the child was :
Christ in the chamber of death : — I. A good child is at home in either world, not
sorry io go to the other world to get joy, and not sorry to come back to this world
to give it. II. We know not where the other world is, bat it is evidently within
range of the Savioox's voice. Our dear dead are therefore safe, and aU their con-
CHAP. T.J ST. MARK, 209
ditiong ordered by the Saviour's mercy. III. Life is indestructible by death. IV.
On a universal scale Christ will be found to be the Resurrection and the Life to all
who love Him. V. He inflicts bereavement, but sympathises with its sorrow. He
relieves these mourners here, to show that He pities all mourners. {R. Olover.)
TalitJia eumi : — He uses what were, perhaps, the words used every morning by her
mother on waking her— "Little one, get up." (Ibid.) The raising of Jairtu'
daughter : — I. The application which Jesus received. 1. By whom it was made.
8. The favour he implied. 8. The feeling which this ruler displayed. (1) His
reverence. (2) His importunity. (3) His faith. II. The ready compliance op
ouB Lord with the request made to Him. But as He went we are called upon—
1. To witnees a strange interruption. 3. To listen to what seemed very discouraginc
information — •• Thy daughter is dead." HI. The wonderful result with which
this visit was attended. L What onr Lord saw. 2. What He said. 8. What
He did. {Expository Outlines.)
Vers. 24, 34. And a certain woman, which bad an Issue of blood twelve years.—
The poioer of feeble faith : — I. Vert imperteot faith may be genuine faith. It
was intensely ignorant trust. Again, her trust was very selfish. It was also
weakened and interrupted by much distrust. II. Christ answers the imperfect
faith. Christ stoops to her childish thought and allows her to prescribe the path
by which His gift ehall reach her. Christ's mercy, like water in a vase, takes the
shape of the vessel that holds it. On the other hand, Hia grace *♦ is given to every
one of us according to the measure of the gift of Christ," with no limitation but His
own unlimited fulness. Therefore — 1. Let us labour that our faith may be en-
lightened, importunate, and firm. 2. There can be no faith so feeble that Christ
does not respond to it. III. Christ corrects and confirms an imperfeot faith by
THE very act of ANSWERING IT. Her ignoraucc, selfishness, and fear, were all
removed. {A. Maclaren, D.D.) The faculty baffled— the great Physician
successful : — I. Let me expose the physicians who delude so many by their vain
PRETENSIONS. Their names are, Dr. Sadducee, Dr. Legality, Dr. Ceremonial, Dr.
Ascetic, Dr. Orthodoxy, and Dr. Preparation. II. What is the reason of their
FAILURE? Because they do not understand the disease. They often prescribe
remedies which are impossible to their patients. Many of their medicines do not
touch the disease at all. III. The plight of the patient who has tried these
DECEIVERS. She lost all her time. She was no better. She rather grew worse. She
spent Edl that she had. IV. How a cube can be wrought. I must press to get near
Him. I must touch. The least of Christ will save. (C H. Spurgeon.) The
disease of humanity incurable except by Christ : — The disease of fallen humanity is
whoUy incurable except by the hand of Omnipotence. It is as easy for as to create
a world as to create a new heart ; and a man might as well hope to abolish cold and
snow as hope to eradicate sin from his nature by his own power : he might as well
say to this round earth, " I have emancipated thee from the curse of labour," as
say to himself, "I will set myself free from the thraldom of sin." {Ibid.)
Determination in the fa^e of tremendous discouragements : — When sinners sweep away
every other delusion, and view Jesus as the only Saviour they will persevere till
they find. When Cortez went to conquer Mexico, he found that the soldiers were
few and dispirited. The Mexicans were many, and the enterprize hazardous. The
soldiers would have gone back to Spain, but Cortez took two or three chosen heroes
wi.il him, and went down to the seaside and broke up all the ships; and "now," he
said, " we must conquer or die. We cannot go back." When it is death or life,
hearen or hell, pardon or condemnation, the sinner will be as determined and
courageous as these poor Spaniards or as this poor woman. {Anonynums.) The
touch: — I. The patient. Note: what courage and spirit she displayed; Her
resolute determination; Her marvellous hopefulness. U. The difficxtltixs of
this woman's faith. The disease : long-standing : incurable. Her frequent disap-
pointments. Her own unworthiness. Her present poverty. Her extreme sickness.
III. The vanishing point of all her difficulties. All her thoughts have gone
toward the Lord Jesus. She has forgotten herself; forgotten the rampant fury of
her disease ; forgotten her being behind and out of sight : and even her own touch
of Him she has put into a secondary place. All that she looks for must come out
of Him. If seeking sinners would but think more of Christ, all would be well.
IV. Heb grand success. She was healed immediately. She knew that she was
healed. She has next the assurance from Christ that she was healed. The wine
that eometh out of these grapes is this : the sUghtest connection with Jesoi will
14
SIO THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [OHA*. ▼.
bleM Of. (C. H. Spurgeon.) Apply this thought — I. To spiritual existbnci>:8.
If I touch but a grain of sand or a bud, I find the Mighty One. H. To thb bghemb
o» spntiTUAL PBOviDENCB. Revlew your own life from infancy. III. To thb pbo-
CBSSES OF spiBiTUAL EDUCATION. It Is a great thing to see God in heavens rich
with systems of suns ; it is a grander faith, surely, to see Him in a speck of dust.
IV. To THE USES OF SPIRITUAL ORDINANCES. The hymn, the prayer, the lesson, the
mere form itself may do men good. Application : The hand must touch Christ, not an
apostle, or a minister, or an angel — ^but God the Son. You may have touched many
without benefit ; touch Him and you will live. {J. Parker, D.D.) •• Who hain
touched me f*' — *' Daughter, thy faith hath made thee whcle." It requires the second
sentence to complete the meaning of the first. In the days of the semaphore signals
a message came across to England concerning the Duke of Wellington, and half
the message was read as it appeared upon the semaphore, and astonished all
England with the sad intelligence. It ran thus, " Wellington defeated." Every-
body was distressed as they read it, but it so happened that they had not seen all
the message. Fog had intervened, and when, by and by, the air was clearer and
the telegraph flashed out a second time, it was read thus — "Wellington defeated — the
French,** Thus the first sentence may have caused dismay in the poor woman's
heart, but if the first appeared to kill, the second would make alive. {Anoyiymom.)
A diseased woman healed: — The chief design of our Lord's miracles was to confirm
His pretensions. But they were more than this. Benevolent, for the greater part
in their character, they served to unfold the mercifulness of His nature. They also
shadowed forth His mode of serving us. Viewed in this light there is wonderful
variety in them. I. The sad condition of this woman when she came to Christ
for reUef. Her malady was an inveterate one. We are all sick in our souls.
There is a disease in us which has seized on the noblest part of us. It is weakening,
polluting, and destroying our immortal spirits. IL The state of this woman's
mind in this sad condition. Had it been a despairing state, we could hardly have
blamed her. One of the worst features in a penitent sinner's case, is frequently a
tendency to despair. No sin so great as despair. Your case may be sad, yet not
hopeless. There is a Physician you have not yet tried, or have never tried aright.
III. Heb application to Him. There is deep humility evident here, and great self-
abasement. Sin is a loathsome and shameful thing. The soul would hide itself
from every eye. There is great faith : *' I shall be whole " — not relieved. What
exalted views she must have had of Jesus. He is no common Saviour. Bat her
faith was not perfect. It settled only on one part of the Lord's character. She
believed His power, but distrusted His goodness. This mixture of faith and un-
belief is very common in every newly converted soul. If real faith be in us, its inferi-
ority is overlooked. IV. The cure this sufferer received. 1. It was immediate.
This is always our Lord's mode of acting with one class of persons who come to
Him — those who come for pardon — receive it at once. Those who oome to have
the power of sin subdued in them, are often kept waiting for the mercy they desire.
Like the child of Jairus, the disease grows worse while seeking the remedy. But
the help sought is found at last. 2. The cure of this woman was one of which she
and our Lord were both conscious. You think perhaps, brethren, that it is a small
thing with Christ whether you come to Him or not ; you conceive that He on His
lofty throne has not a look or thought for you ; but if you are turning to Him with
a broken heart for salvation, there is not an object in the universe He thinks of
more than you, there is not a moment in which His eye is off you. Great as is His
joy now, it will be greater still when you touch Him and are made whole. He will
say to His angels, as He said to His disciples here, " Virtue is again gone out of
Me. There is another sinner healed." And the woman, too, was aware of the cure
which had been wrought in her ; *• She felt in her body that she was healed."
Her recovery, however, did not produce in her at first the joyous feelings we might
have anticipated. There was a mixture of feeling in her. She feared and
trembled after she was healed, as many a pardoned sinner trembles when he has
reason to rejoice ; but healed she was, and she knew it. And it is not easy to con-
ceive how any one oan be cured of the dreadful disease of sin, and yet remain long
ignorant or doubtful about his cure. {C. Bradley, M.A.) The eonsciousnes* o/
cure : — We cannot see His hand as it passes over the book of God, and blots out the
dark record of our crimes which is written there ; but pardon is not aU. Sin is
more than a crime against God which needs to be forgiven, it is a disease within a
man's heart to be subdued and healed. And if we go on always doubting whether
this ftiinaio within ns is in a way of being healed, the probability is that oar fouls
CMAP. v.] ST, MARK. 211
•re Bick aB ever. It is not easy when a man is ill and recoTering, to tell the exact
moment in which his disease gives way and his recovery begins ; but it is soon
seen by those around him that his recovery is begun, and it is soon felt by
himself. Just so with the salvation of the soul. A man may doubt for a
time at his first return to Gk)d, and these doubts may recur again and again at
intervals in his future years ; nay, they will assuredly recur whenever he allows
himself to wander from his God; but the habitual frame of the estabhshed
Christian's mind is not one of doubt and uncertainty. Christ has not done so
little for him, that he cannot see it. The Holy Spirit has not touched his
heart so slightly, that he never feels His hand. The gospel is not so poor a
medicine, that he is always doubting whether it has done him any good. {Ibid.)
A woman which had an issue of blood : — This case is crowded with lessons. I. Note :
How MANY UNKNOWN 8UFFEREB8 ABE ABOUT US. II. ChRIST HAD SENT THIS WOMAN 'g
ILLNESS, AND WAS AS LOVING IN LATING IT ON HEB AS IN LIFTINO IT AWAY. HI,
She 18 ANOTHEB INSTANCE OF THE " SWEET USES OF ADVERSITY." The afflicted
class producing then and now more believers in Christ than any other. IV. There
▲BE MANY HEMS OF THE GABMKNT THROUGH WHICH WE CAN TOUCH THE DiVINB
OMNIPOTENCE AND MEBCY. 1. Christ's humanity is the great hem of the garment,
through \*hich we can touch His Godhead. 2. A word of Scripture is often a hem
of His garment, through which we draw in salvation to our soul. 3. A sacrament
is a hem of Christ's garment. All these are valueless unless our touch seeks the
Divine Christ within them ; but they are saving links to Christ when enlightened
faith seeks Him. V. Thebb is all the difference in the world between
PRESSING AND CROWDING ON Christ, AND TOUCHING HiM. Many crowd Christ,
reading much, attending services, singing hymns, and making impassioned prayers,
perhaps fruitlessly ; while a pubhcan in the temple, or a dying thief — with one
word, full of aim and meaning— finds his soul saved. Be not fussy in religion, but
calm your spirit, and speak not until in briefest compass you can name, and lodge,
and leave your request with God. VI. Let mercies received be duly confessed.
(R. Glover.) Twelve years I Long continuance of discipline : — It pleases God to
lay long and tedious afflictions on some of His servants in this life. 1. To mani-
fest His great power, strengthening them to bear such long afflictions. 2. To
magnify His mercy in delivering them at length out of them. 3. That He may
make thorough proof and trial of their faith, patience, and other graces of His
Spirit in them. 4. To wean them from this world, and to stir up in them a longing
for heaven, 6. To make them more earnest in prayer to TTirn for deliverance. It
is therefore no evidence of God's wrath, nor any sufficient reason to prove such an
one to be out of His favour, whom He so holds for a long time under the cross.
Be well content, then, to bear afflictions, though of long continuance ; submitting
in this matter to the will of God, who knows it to be good and profitable for some
to be kept long under discipline. (G. Petter.) A variety of sufferers, their best
meeting -place: — ^It is strange, the variety of sufferers that meet each other at the
feet of Jesus I {R. Glover.) Coming to Christ ;— Come to Christ Jesus to be
cured in soul and conscience of your sins. Come to Him, and touch Him by true
faith, as this diseased woman did, and thou shalt feel Divine virtue to come from
Him to heal thee of thy sins, both of the guilt and of the corruption of them.
Thou shalt feel His Divine power healing thee of the guilt of thy sins, by the
merit of His obedience and sufferings applied to thy conscience by faith ; and the
same Divine power healing thee of the corruption of sin, that is, mortifying thy
sinful lusts, that they may not reign in thee as they have done, and as they do in
the wicked and unbelievers. Oh, therefore, thou that feelest thy soul diseased with
sin, make haste unto Christ to be cured by this Divine healing virtue that is in
Him : pray Him to manifest it in thee ; and withal, labour by some measure of
faith to apply it to thyself, as this woman did : then shalt thou most certainly be
healed in soul, as she was in body. And let not the grievousness of thy disease
hinder thee from coming to Christ to be cured, but rather cause thee to make the
more speed to Him by faith : for be assured, there is virtue enough in Him to heal
all thy sins, though many and grievous, if tiiou do but see and feel them, and com-
plain of them, and lay them open to Him, and seek earnestly to Him by the praver
of faith to be cured of them. Do this therefore, and do it speedily, without delay.
As in a dangerous sickness of body, thou would'st not dare to put off sending to the
physif^ian, lest it cost thee thy life: so much less must thou dare to delay the time
in seeking to Christ to be healed of thy sins, lest it cost thee the loss of eternal
iile, and the salvation of thy aoul. Be careful, therefore, forthwith to seek to
tlfl THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [oha». ft.
Christ to be healed of thy sins. The rather, beoaase there is no other meani or
physio in the world to onre thee, besides the Divine healing Tirtue that is in GhriBt
Jesns : no power or virtue that is in any herb, precions stone, or mineral, can onx*
thee of thy sins : not all the balm in Gilead ; not any power or skill of man or
angel can cure thy diseased conscience of one sin : only this Divine virtue that it
in Christ can do it : and therefore seek to Him alone to be cured, and not to other
vain helps and remedies. TMien thou feelest thy sins lie upon thy conscience, seek
not (as many do) to be cured by merry company, or by following vain sports or
recreations, nor by going to the bodily physician to purge melancholy (as if this
alone would cure thee) : all these are in this case physicians of no value ; therefore
trust not to them, but go directly to Jesus Christ, to be healed by that Divine virtue
which is in him. ((?. Fetter.) Majestic faith : — Some criticise her faith un-
favourably, as if she had a superstitious belief in Christ's clothes. Superstition
does not act as she did. Her faith was that Christ's anointing, like Aaron's, goes
to the skirts of His garments. One less believing would have sunk, murmuring in
despair, quoting dismal proverbs about misfortunes never coming single, and feel-
ing that in her disease, poverty, shame, loneliness, she was specially ill-nsed by
God. Or, if not despairing altogether, feeble faith would have faced Christ, and
displayed at large all her claims for help, dwelling on the length of her sorrow, and
on the fortune vainly spent in endeavouring to regain her health. But calm, trust-
ful, feeling Christ so willing and so strong to help that there is no reluctanee in Btts
heart, she venti;ures all on a touch of faith. There is a heroism here worthy of
Abraham. Full of this faith, she elbows her way through the crowd, and finding
the blue hem of Christ's garment within her reach, quietly — bo that none observe
her — she touches it ; and at once a swift, gentle tide of health flushes through all
her frame, and she feels she has got what she desired. (R. Glover.) Encourage-
ment to faith : — If you have faith, though but in its infancy, be not discouraged, for
— 1. A little faith is faith, as a spark of fire is fire. 2. A weak faith may lay hold on
a strong Christ ; a weak hand can tie the knot in marriage as well as a strong.
She, in the gospel, who but touched Christ, fetched virtue from Him. 8. The
promises are not made to strong faith, but to true. The promise does not say. He
who hath a giant faith, who can believe God's love through a frown, who can
rejoice in affliction, who can work wonders, remove mountains, stop the mouth of
lions, shall be saved ; but, whosoever believes, be his faith never so small. A reed
is but weak, especially when it is bruised ; yet the promise is made to it, " A
bruised reed will He not break." 4. A weak faith may be fruitful. Weakest things
multiply most. The vine is a weak plant, but it is fruitful. The thief on the cross,
who was newly converted, wad but weak in grace ; but how many precious clusters
grow upon that tender plant I 5. The weakest believer is a member of Christ as
well as the strongest ; and the weakest member of the body mystical shall not
perish. Christ will cut off rotten members, but not weak members. There-
fore, Christian, be not discouraged : God, who would have as receive them that are
weak in the faith (Bom. xiv. 1), will not Himself refuse them. {Watson.) Cominff
to Christ: — We are like this woman, inasmuch as — I. We, too, have a need of Christ.
He alone can (1) pardon our sins ; (2) renew our nature ; (3) strengthen us to wage
the spiritual oon^ct with success. II. We should have a sense of this need. As long
as we suppose that a slight change, a little penitence and contrition, will suffice ;
so long, not heartily applying to Christ for the blessings we want, we shall go
empty away. III. We have nothing to offer for the blessing we desire. Christ's
people receive all, and return nothing ; for, all they can offer is already His. IV.
We come to a willing Benefactor. He is more ready to give than we to receive. It
is as natural to Christ to give blessings to all who ask, as it is for the sun to diffuse
its beams on all the objects beneath; if we receive not, it is because we have
intercepted the rays flowing from the Snn of Bighteousness. Y. In the exercise of
faith we are sure of a blessing. All spiritual blessings may be ours, if only we
will believe in Christ's goodness and grace, and come to Him. YI. The blessing
may be delayed ; but no prayer and no exercise of faith is ever lost (B. W, Noel, M.A,)
Told Him all the truth : Be open with Jesus : — This woman has a word for two
classes. She urges the penitent to a full confession, and the tme convert to an
open profession. I. To thb penitent, uboino a full avowal or thxib stati
AKD coNDmoN. Tell Jesus all the truth (1) about your disease. Show yourself in
all your foulness to the great Physician. Do not draw the picture flatteringly when
yon are in prayer. Do not use dainty terms ; but make a clean breast of every sin.
(3) about yonr sufferings. Tell how your heart has been broken, your conscience
▼.] 8T, MARK, til
alarmed. Let your sorrows flow in briny floods before the Lord. Though ne
other can understand them, He can. (3) of your futile attempts after a cure ; your
wicked, sinful pride in seeking a rigbteousness of your own, instead of submitting
to that of Christ. (4) regarding your hopes. (5) and your fears. II. Reasons vob
THIS. 1. The Lord knows it all already. It would be folly to deny or attempt to
hide what He has seen. 2. To tell Him will be a very great service to you. It wUl
tend to make you feel your need more. While you are in the act of opening your
heart to God, He will pour in the oil and wine of His Divine grace. IIL To those
WHO ABE COHYEBTED, BUT WHO HAVE NOT TET ACKNOWLEDGED THEIB FAITH IN THE
PRESENCE or 0THEB8. 1. TMs is for God's glory. The Christian is not to be always
wishing to expose what is in him ; that were to make himself a Pharisee ; bnfc ii
God has put in you anything lovely, beautiful, and of good report, who are yoo
that you should, by covering it, rob EUm of His praise ? 2. For the good of others.
In the case before us, the woman's confession was doubtless intended to strengthen
the faith of Jairus, who was sorely tried by this delay. You do not know of how
much service your open confession of Christ might be to some trembling soul. 3.
For the person's own sake. I have no doubt this was the main reason. Suppose
Christ had let her go home quietly, without any word from Him — when she reached
home she would have said, '• Ah, I stole that cure; I am so glad I have it." But
one day there would come a dark thought, " What if it should die away after a
time ; then I shall be as bad as ever ; for I never asked him." Conscience would
say to her, *' Ah, it was a theft ; " and though she might t;xcuse herself, still she
would not be easy. Now Christ calls her up, and conscience cannot disturb her,
for He gave her the cure before them alL She need not be afraid of the return of
her disease, for Jesus has said, '* Thy faith hath made thee whole. (C H. Spurgeon.)
Salvation: — There are three great truths which are illustrated in this narrative. I.
Salvation needed. That woman needed healing ; we need saving. The gospel is
the remedy, and the fact of the gospel being provided is a sufllcient proof of the
necessity of it. A remedy suggests the evil which is to be remedied. Justiflcation
by faith is a remedy to meet a special case of necessity. The most obvious and
legitimate method of being justified is to be just ; let me be just, and I am justified
in the eye of the law. So the angels are justified. But we have sinned. How,
then, are we to be justified? The gospel tells us we are to be justified by faith;
we are to believe in Jesus Christ, and on the ground of His great sacrifice on our
behalf we shall be accepted as just, though we ourselves have sinned. If you see
a lifeboat on the sea-shore, it suggests storms and deaths; so the gospel suggests the
ruin which it is meant to remedy. Look abroad on the world, and yon will see
evidences enough of the necessity. Consult your own consciences and history, and
every one will know in himself that there was need for such a remedy — that ** all
have sinned and come short of the glory of God.'* Christ has come into the world
as '* a propitiation for the sins of the whole world." A universal remedy indicates
A oniversal necessity. II. Salvation pbovided. Jesus obeyed the law we had
broken ; He suffered the punishment we had merited ; He obeyed and suffered ob
our behall ** He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our
iniquities.*' HI. Salvation obtained— obtained by faith. We accept Christ as our
representative. (N» Hall, LL.B.) The resource of faith: — Here, then, is aa
ezhaustless reservoir of power, the power of Omnipotence, and the means by which
it may all be made available to feed our hves. The mill-owner stores up in a
reservoir on the heights the water that shall run his mill. Then he needs only a
channel or sluice-way that shall bring the water to his wheels. If it was an
ezhaustless reservoir, like the Atlantic Ocean for extent, he would have no fear that
his mill would run dry. These miracles and this text teach the Christian that
Omnipotence and Omniscience alone boxmd the reservoir of his spiritual graces,
and that he has under his own control the width and depth of the channel called
faith which brings them into his life. When Franklin grasped the principle o<
electricity, he could not only draw the lightning from a single cloud: all the
electricity in the earth and in all the clouds was at his command, and he could send
it upon his errands. When James Watt mastered the principle of the expansive
power of steam, not only the little cloud of vapour that issued from his mother's
tea-kettle was under his control, but all the steam that could be generated by the
itored-up combustibles of the world was really his. When the Christian can
grasp this truth of the power of faith, the infinite spiritual resources of the Father
and the Son and the Holy Ghost are his. " All power is given unto Me in heaves
and in earth." There is the reservoir. ** All things, whatsoever ye shall ask ii
n4 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap. ▼.
prayer, belieTing, ye shall receive." There is the channel that conveys the power
into oar livei and makes it available. {Sermons by Monday Club.) The persutenet
of faith : — Again, Jairus and the woman and the blind men teach us not only what
faith is, but what it inevitably involves. It always involves a persistent effort.
Even though death has stiffened his little daughter's limbs, and silenced her tongne,
and has roUed the deep, dark stream which no sonl was ever known to recrosa
between her and him, Jairus will still persist. He will not give over his efforts.
♦• Come and lay Thy hand upon her and she shall live," is his entreaty stilL
Though the invalid for twelve years has tried physician after physician and has
received no help, she will try again. It could not have been easy for her to press
through that curious throng of stronger ones, but she does it until she even grasps
His garment's hem, and then He turns and speaks the healing word. Our Lord
at first seemed to take no notice of the blind men, but when they persistently
followed Him, when He saw that the rebuke of pitiless bystanders had no effect
but to increase their effort to reach Him, when they followed Him into the
house, then He touched their eyes. Persistent effort is not true faith, but it
always accompanies true faith. Thunder never split the heart of the oak-tree, but it
always accompanies the lightning's flash, and tells to all about of the lightning's
presence. The farmer does not show his faith by lying in his bed and waiting for
God to plough and harrow his field and sow his seed. He ploughs, and harrows, and
BOWS, and shows his faith in then waiting for God to give the increase. God's winds
are always blowing ; the man of faith spreads his sail before God can fill it. (Ibid,)
Gospel pictures : — As a picture from a magic lantern is dashed upon the screen, is
looked at for a moment, then vanishes, and is gone, so different persons come
upon the stage in the narratives of the Evangehsts, enact perfect dramas, exquisite
in texture and construction, and momentous in moral bearing, and then pass away.
There is no lineage, no record, no name; and yet all is so vivid and powerfid.
{H. W. Beecher.) Sickness spoils life : — She was sick ; and what is all the world
worth when one is sick ? What is all that is presented to the eye, what is the
income of the year, what are all the treasures of life worth under such circum-
stances ? What is everything that can be desired worth when one is thoroughly
sick ? Sickness takes the flavour out of everything. It changes the whole current
and course of desire and feeling. She had long been sick. She had worn out years
in sickness, and those years had well-nigh worn her out. "All that a man hath will
he give for his life." {Ibid.) An ungrateful reception of healing : — Well, ought
she not, in that very instant, to have cried out ? Ought she to have taken such bounty,
and to have borne no witness to it ? It is true that she did not say anything ; but
her silence was not idtogether from ingratitude. It may have been a relative want
of appreciation of the greatness of the favour. She may have said to herself, " How
do I know that it is anjrthing more than my imagination ? I will say nothing about
it until I am sure ; " — just as a great many persons, when they begin to feel the
saving power of the Divine Spirit in their souls say, " I will not speak of this ; I
will wait ; I will see what it is." She may have said, ** How can I speak of this?
My lips refuse to open ; I cannot speak." It may have been sensibihty, delicacy of
feeling, shrinkingness, that kept her from speaking. How many there are who
believe that they have been pardoiud, and that the blood of Christ which takes
away the stain of sin has healed them, but who consult their sensibility and their
shrinking tastes, and say, " How can I speak of this ? " And it does not look as
though it were wicked. Yet, if there be anything that a person ought to acknow-
ledge, it is obligations which touch the great core of things. He who has been
healed by a faithful physician should be the friend of that physician as long as he
lives. It may be that he acted professionally ; it may be that he took his fee ; but
money never pays a physician who performs his duty faithfully. If your child has
come back from death, never forget the faithful old nurse that made her bosom a
cradle in which the child rocked, and gave her days and nights to the care of it.
For such service as hers nothing material can be an adequate compensation. We
are ungrateful in a thousand ways which we hardly suspect. We do not pay what
we owe to men who enfranchise our understanding. Authors who give ns a
higher and nobler conception of life ; poeis who give wings to our fancy, so to
speak, enabling us to fly higher than ordinary men, who stumble and fall down in
the midst of the vulgarities of society ; those who make virtue beauteous, and draw
us to it, — who can repay the services of such as these ? Men scarcely know what they
owe to those who fortify them in virtue ; to those who make it plain to them that
integrity is safe under all circumstances ; to those who have walked before them iu
91UP. ▼.] ST, MARK. tlf
the beauty of holineai ; to those who have redeemed them from the conception that
religion is a bondage, and led them to see that it was an efflorescent garden fall of
sweet delights. There is among men a great lack of the sense of their obligation
toward those who have served them. {Ibid.) Unpurposed healing : — Ah ! it ia
a good thing for men to be niled with grace to snch a degree as that their nncon.
sciouB moods and nnpurposed influence shall be healing, as well as the things which
they intend. So it was with our Master. I^irposely He cast out demons. He set
persons free from insanities. He quenched the fire of fevers. Dropsies were dried
up by Him. Men were brought to health on every side through His instrumeU'
tality. With a word, with a gesture, with a look, with a touch. He did great works
of beneficence. But so full was He of Divine savour, of spiritual power, that His
very garments, as it were, were imbued with it ; and when the woman stole up and
touched the hem of His garment, straightway she experienced a joyful release.
Oh, soul-filling surprise 1 She that for twelve years had not known one hour's
exemption from disease, felt the sovereign balm of perfect health flow through her
veins; and she stood restored 1 She was well! {Ibid.) Touchet that do not
touch ; or contact without sympathy : — There seems to be requisite, then, a relation
between souls before the real and rich fruits of life can come to them in the highest
forma of Christian experience. Let us look along the lines of analogy a little.
Souls touch each other in various ways. Life touches Ufe variously. People live
together in bodily contact. They live in agreement only as to bodily conditions.
They are related to each other simply by the necessity of food, raiment, warmth,
protection. Ten thousand wedded souls are to each other simply as a blade is to ft
knife. There is no real vitality between the two. Only in regard to provision for
worldly wants and in bodily conditions are they in contact. But, then, these are
the lowest, rudest forms of contact ; yet there are people that are more in sympathy.
There are multitudes that come into sympathy with each other only through their
children. The cradle is a reconciler, often, between husband and wife. It opens
up, in the rude, hard man, streams like those which Moses brought forth from the
rock. For the child's sake, the mother becomes dear to him. There is mediation ;
and yet how little of life is theie in common between two such souls 1 Again,
people dwell together in single lines of mutuality. Many persons live together in
all intellectual qualities, but in no other respects. Many dwell together being in
accord in their tastes ; but in no other regards. Many live together in literature,
in history, in the ordinary and easier forms of knowledge that are of the earth
•arthy ; but they never rise into eminence, aspiration, glorification, of each other,
and never see anything in each other except that which the bird sees, or which the
animal sees. They do not touch each other ; and yet they are in perpetual contact.
Higher phenomena of life there are, however ; and there is developed heroism at
times. There is a coming together of soul with soul, not through the ministration
of the body, nor of taste, nor of thought, nor of mutual service, alone, but by that
rare inflammation of the whole soul which has no definition, and which no man
can describe. It is not needed by those who have it ; it is not possible to those who
have it not. Every faculty in one, then, has sympathy with every faculty in the
other. Either they fit each other by exact agreement, or the positive element of
one is just adapted for the absence of it in the other. Thus souls come together in
an indefinable way. They are conscious that their lives mingle and blend. This
is the rarest and highest form of contact ; and yet is the revelation of that law by
which men can rise from bodily conditions into social, and from those conditions
into intellectual ; but the consummation lies in that invisible, indescribable element
which inheres in every man and woman — inheres sometimes only aa a seed
ongrown, and at other times develops and is full of fragrance, and then is full of
fruit. {Ibid.) The survival of the fittest and a higher law .'—Jesus did not say
to this woman, " Go away ; you are too weak and broken to hold your own in the
world ; best for you to be down and wait for the end, while others take your place
who can do your work." That would have been a sorrowful word, not to her only,
but to us also ; for it would have set a limit, not to Christ's power merely, but to
His very compassion, and therein also to ours. That, however, is not the law
which human hearts acknowledge. Our power may easily have limits, but our pity
must have none ; and as we can help not a little even when we cannot heal, it is
bound upon our conscience never to be inhuman. The bruised reed He would not
break. But this, while it is the supreme law of man's nature, is by no means tha
law of nature elsewhere. Nature throws away her broken vessels with no compunc-
tion or pity whatever. Everywhere the weak and sickly among the lower aj^iTnalg are
sit THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [cha». r
mthlessly killed off, and only those remain which are able to do for themselyes.
The fit survive — the eeble perish. It is hardly necessary to lead any proof of
this. The stricken deer turns aside to die, while the fat herd sweeps on indifferent
to its fate. The pack of lean wolves know of no surgery for a fainting comrade,
except to fall on him and rend him in pieces. The frail bird that cannot fly with
the rest of the brood is tumbled from the nest and left to its fate. Nature has,^
indeed, a great healing power for the strong and healthy in case of accident, so that
wounds and broken bones soon come together a^ain. But among wild animals
sickness, disease, feebleness, and age meet with no compassion. In their warfare
it is still Va victis, for they cannot cumber themselves with the wounded. The
halt and the blind get no chance at all. The weak and sickly are left to their fate»
and the sooner it comes the better, for their kindred turn from them, and their
friends will not know them. Unfit for the struggle of existence which is their
supreme business, they perish without ruth or remorse. Thus everywhere on sea
and land, and in the lightsome air, among all creatures that swim, or fly, or creep,
or run, we find this law working, and doubtless working for the general good of the
whole, yielding a benevolent harvest of health and comfort to the unthinking
creatures of God. But now, when we pass from them into the province of man, we
meet at once with a law which breaks in upon this, and controls it. The struggle
for existence goes on there too, but it is no longer supreme and all in all.
Everywhere it is modified by ideas that are confessedly of greater moment and
higher authority. Sometimes it is set aside altogether, for we are not always
bound to exist if wo can, but we are always bound to do right. Thus the moral
rises above the natural, and even flatly contradicts it. The struggle for existence
is subordinated to the struggle for a higher perfection. Instead of the survival of
the fittest, we have a law requiring the strong to help the weak, the healthy to
improve their health for the sake of the diseased, and even those who are hope-
lessly stricken, and for ever invalided from the battle of life, are cast on us as a
peculiar care, to neglect which were to outrage the noblest instincts of humanity.
The natural law, everywhere else in full swing, that the weak and sickly, the halt
and blind, must be left to their fate, or even hurried out of the way, not only does
not hold among us, but the very reverse of it holds. And the moral principle which
thus asserts its supremacy vindicates ics claim by many fruitful results. For often-
times the poor cripple whom natural law would have cast away, has grown up to
bless the world with wise and noble counsel, and blind men, all unfit for the mere
struggle of animal life, have yet done brave and good service in the higher warfare
of humanity ; and even the utterly broken, the helplessly disabled, who can
" only stand and wait," have yet, by their meek patience under affliction, shown us
an example which made our hearts gentler, humbler, better, and was well worth all
the care we bestowed on them. So it is, at any rate, that no sooner do we pass
from the mere natural life of animals to the moral life of man, than we find
another law breaking in upon the law of survival of the fittest—controlling,
suspending, even utterly reversing it, with an authority which cannot be gainsaid,
without forfeiting all that is most nobly and distinctively human. {Walter G.
Smith, D.D.) ChrisVs kindness in discipline : — It is not often that we are able
to perceive the full purpose of any one of God'g dealings. Seldom can we see the
perfect fruit of the chastisement He allots us. And no wonder: the life of man is
so short ; the purposes and operations of God are so vast. I. In the conduct of oar
Lord notice — 1. Christ's apparent harshness. He insisted on the woman's coming
forth to tell her shame. But see Christ's real kindness. It was not in mere asser-
tion of authority that He called her forth. It was to complete the blessing. He
would give her His benediction before she went. Again, it was to purify and
strengthen her faith. He would prepare her to confess Him elsewhere. Christ
alone knew the trials to which this woman would be exposed at home. 3. So in
like manner and with like purposes, will Christ deal with you, if you be of those
who have come to Him with faith. The purpose of all Christ'i discipline — the
discipline that we experience — is exemplified in His conduct to this woman. First,
we noticed that He called her forth to receive further blessing. She came for
healing only, but He would give her spiritual grace. Like her, many now come to
the Saviour, barely praying for pardon, for deliverance from punishment. But
Christ did not achieve redemption merely to keep men out of hell — He died to take
them to heaven. Now, to prepare for heaven much grace is necessary, and men
must be summoned to return to Christ again and again, that they may receive far
more than the blessing for which they first came. Christ has yet richer fayoors to
T.] ST. MARK. 217
bestow ; and if His people do not apply for tbem they mast be placed in cironm-
stances where they will feel their want and their need, and hungrily ask Him for
more. Next, we saw that He called her forth to purify and strengthen her faith.
There is no need for me to tell you that your faith is both imperfect and impure.
Would you not desire your faith to grow stronger and larger ? Then it must be
nsed and tried, exercised and trained. Again, we noticed that Christ was probably
preparing this woman to witness for Him in time to come. He requires from ail
yjnen the public profession of His name. Salvation is not a sort of spiritual luxury
to be enjoyed in private. And, further, men never know wliat lies before them as
messengers of God ; they are ignorant of the high and arduous service to which,
may be, they have been appointed. But Christ kuows it ; and He prepares them and
exercises them in bearing testimony for God in one difficulty and trial after
another, until they are ready for the work tlaey have to do. Thus does He grant to
His applicants, not only the healing they pray for, but also the strength which
they are content to lack. As in the experience of this woman, so in His treatment
of us, will Christ combine apparent harshness with real kindness. II. For the
further investigation of this subject shall we turn from the Saviour to the saved,
and try to trace the feelings of this woman as the black cloud of Christ's seeming
displeasure passed over her. 1. We find her full of sudden joy at feeling in her
body that she was healed of that plague. Twelve years' misery, labour, expense,
and disappointment are all at an end. How universal the joy must have been. No
fibre of her frame that did not thrill with gladness. And there was another cause
of joy too ; she had escaped the exposure she so much dreaded. But her joy was
all at once quenched in awe and fear when He asked, •♦ Who touched Me f " and
when He asked again, and when He looked round about with a gaze that showed
He knew her that had done this thing. So feeling, for a moment, she comes forward
and tells Him [all the truth. But, instead, sounds came upon her ear tenderer
and tenderer, and stronger in consolation: "Courage, daughter; thy faith hath
saved thee," Ao, Ah! what feelings were hers, as she rose and departed.
It would take her long to disentangle all their varied happiness. Did she
not feel that the benediction of Christ amply made ap for the loss of
secrecy ? She was really happier for the discipline through which He made her
pass. Had she gone away as she hoped and planned, she would have carried
with her none of this joy — the love of Christ. She would have received the
cure, and that alone. And, on the other hand, she would have had doubts as to
Christ's willingness to heal her ; doubts as to His forgiveness of her intrusion and
underhand application ; doubts, too, as to the permanence of the cure — all would
have been in uncertainty. But now she knew that His will healed her. His kind-
ness welcomed her. His grace blessed her. Moreover, had she gone away as she
hoped, she would have retained her superstition with her faith. It would have
cramped and enfeebled it, and she might never have believed in Jesus to the salva
tion of her soul. And the weakness that made her come to Christ in the crowd
behind might have betrayed her into greater fear of man at home, and she might
never have been able to confess His name. But now she knew Him, and believed
in Him — not in the fringe of His garment ; now she had confessed Him before the
multitude, and would not fear to confess Him before her friends. Would she not
be sure that it was loving wisdom that deprived her of the convenience which she
had yearned for, and substituted blessings of which she had not dreamed ? And,
further, was she not glad that she had been made to undergo all this 7 If she could
have had her choice, and it were all to do over again, think yon she would have
wished to go away secretly without seeing Christ's beaming eye and hearing His
" Courage, daughter, go in peace"? Surely not. She saw now that Christ's kindness,
though it seemed harsh at first, was wiser than her own selfish cowardice, and secured
her greater happiness. 2. This narrative shows us also a person undergoing harsh
discipline, and perceiving herself in a few moments the kindness which appointed it.
Now this makes it specially interesting. It is so seldom we can see both sides of
»ny dispensation — the peaceable, happy fruit as well as the present grievousnesa —
that every instance in which we can do so ought to receive most careful meditation.
It is not always granted to Christians to see this happy change so suddenly ; and
yet some time or other in the experience of every believer as swift a vision of God's
kindness in discipline is accorded. And from over us will the cloud sometimes pass
as quickly as in this case. Many a discipline which we think harsh we shall find to
be kind. Not only will it really be kind, but we shall know it to be ao, and shall
receive the joy of experiencing God's goodness. Many an eicpoeiue or trial tb«t if
218 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [oha». ?.
would have avoided at any cost will tarn oat to be the means of bringing blessings
which we shall reckon cheaply bought. Conclusion : It is painful when speaking of
privileges and securities, to think thai they are limited to a few. But I mast
warn you that noue but those who come to Christ for salvation may hope that
He is training them for eternity. Those who do not touch Christ by faith,
their sorrows are but sorrows, their disappointments bring no outweighing joy,
their troubles are not trials, only calamities. Of how much are yoa de>
piiving yourselves by unbelief I Now that Jesus is near, is even waiting for
you, will you not trust in Him and come to Him to be healed? (cT^. Alden Davies.)
A cure by the way;— Jesus was pressing through the throng to the house of Jairus
to raise the ruler's dead daughter ; but He is so profuse in goodness that He works
another miracle while upon the road. While yet this rod of Aaron bears the
blossoms of an unaccomplished wonder, it yields the ripe almonds of a perfect work
of mfcrcy. It is enough for us, if we have some one purpose, straightway to go and
accomplish it ; it were imprudent to expend our energies by the way. Hastening to
the rescue of a drowning friend, we cannot afford to exhaust our strength upon an-
other in like danger. It is enough for a tree to yield one sort of fruit, and for a
luau to fulfil his own particular calling. But our Master knows no limit of power
or boundary of mission. He is so prolific of grace, that Uke the sun which shines
as it fulfils its course, His path is radiant with loving-kindness. He is a fiery arrow
of love, which not only reaches its ordained target, but perfumes the air through
which it files. Virtue is always going out of Jesus, as sweet odours exhale from
the fiowers ; and it always will be emanating from Him, as light from the central
orb. (C. H. Spurgeon.) Men speak of killing two birds with one stone, but my
Lord heals many souls on one journey. (Ibid.) Tell all to Jestu : — II your heart
be very grieved, do, I pray you, remember that compassion ia one of the most rapid
ways of getting reUef. While the banks hold good the lake swells ; let them break,
and the water is drained off. Let a vent be found for the swollen tarn ap yonder
on the mountains, and the mass of water which might otherwise inundate the
valleys will fiow in fertilizing streams. When you have a festering, gathering
wound, the surgeon lets in the lancet and gives yon ease. So confession bring!^
peace. (Ibid.) Confessing Christ : — Why should the wonders He hath wrought
be hid in darkness and foigot ? When I look abroad upon nature, it is true I
do not see nature fussily trying to make itself tidy for a visitor, as some professors
do, who, the moment they think they are going to be looked at, trim up their godli-
ness to make it look smart. But on the other hand. Nature is never bashful. She
never tries to hide her beauties from the gazer's eye. Yoa walk the valley ; the sun
is shining, and a few raindrops are falling ; yonder is the rainbow ; a thousand eyes
gaze at it. Does it fold up all its lovely colours and retire ? Oh, no 1 it shrinks not
fi'om the eye of man. In yonder garden all the fiowers are opening their bejewelled
cups, the birds are singing, and the insects humming amid the leaves. It is a
place so beautiful that God Himself might walk therein at eventide, as He did in
Eden. I look without alarming the bashful beauties of the garden. Do all these
insects fold theilr wings and hide beneath the leaves ? do the flowers hang down
their heads ? does the sun draw a veil over his modest face ? does nature blush till
the leaves of the trees are scarlet ? Oh, no 1 Nature cares not for gazers, and when
they come to look upon her, she doth not hasten to wrap a mantle over her fair
form, or throw a curtain before her grandeur. So the Christian is not to be always
wishing to expose what is in him ; that were to make himself a Pharisee ; yet, on
the other hand, if God has put anything that is lovely and beautiful and of good
report in you, anything that may glorify the cross of Christ, and make the angels
happy before the eternal throne, who are you that yoa shouln cover it f Who are
you that you should rob God of His praise ? What 1 Would you have all Nature's
beauties hid? Why, then, hide the beauties of grace? (Ibid.) Best to apply
direct to the Master : — A tenant farmer on a rich lord's estate had been refused a
renewal of his lease by the steward of the estate. Instead of giving up, the farmer
went to the owner himself, laid the matter before him, and was successful in getting
his renewal. Why r He had gone to the one who had the ultimate power to grant
or refuse. So Jairus, so the woman with the bloody fiux, when all human help
failed, went to Him in Whom alone was the power to heal and make aUve. AU
the bread in the world will not keep you from starving, if it is shut up in store-
houses, and you have no key. There ii.ay be water enough in the well, but if yoo
have no bucket to draw it with, it will do you no good. And all Christ's treasures
of healing for body and soul will be nothmg to you, if you do not go to Him f oi
. ▼.] 8T. MARK, ail
jowt share of them. {Sunday School Timet.) The $anetity of touch : — I. How
ABBAT AKD MT8TBBI0UB THE IMPOBTAKCB ATXAOHINO TO TOUOH IN THB OlD TeSTAHBNT.
1. Thus toaoh is pollation (Hag. ii. 12, 13). 2. Thus touch is oonseorstion (Exod.
zzz. 26, 29). 8. Thus touch is stiength (Dan. z. 10, 16, 18). 4. Thus touch is
wisdom (Jer. i. 9). 6. Thus touch is purity (Isa. tL 7). U. Thb obxat lesson or
THB New TBBTAMEirr is by touch, to show to us thb ABSOLUTB COHMUKICABIIilTT OF
THB DlVINB POWER AND HOLINESS *, IT IB THB STOBY AI.SO OW THB VACCINATION OV THB
woBLD. The Old Testament is the story of the first man, and how one sin tainted
the world. The New Testament is the story of the second Man, and how His holi-
ness purified the tainted stream. Jesus went about tonohiDg. The holy awakening
of Divine grace restores man. III. Thebb is no cube without contact. You
cannot satisfy hunger without eating, although your table be covered with food.
You cannot satisfy thirst without drinking, although fountains play before the
eye. You cannot satisfy faith by reading about Christ, or by knowing Him — ^you
must appropriate Him. Imputed righteousness is really transferred righteousness ;
the purity of the Saviour becomes ours. What does the whole teaching and miraca«
lous life of our Lord convey to as but this doctrine — Transfusion. Faith is the finger
by which man touobes God. Meanwhile it is not faith that saves ; it is faith in
Jesus Christ. We are not saved by faith as an act of the mind, but by faith on the
object of the mind. It is not the faith, but the Person. No cure without contact.
Thus if man cannot eome to God, Qod must come to man, or these two can never
meet. This is the meaning of Christ's incarnation. By faith we come into contact
with God, and are saved ; by sympathy, we come in contact with man and cure.
{E. P. Hood.) Touch i$ the key to all the terues : — Touch is the principle of all
the senses. Perhaps, also, I shall be right, if I say that it is the most subtle of all
the senses. There is no sensation without toadi; sight ii touch; fragrance is
touch ; we give that name to what is the sense of resistance ; but all things are
known to ns and are related to us by touch. Touch is the internal sensitive principle
— it is the principle of communication, and of reception, and of translation. We
are told that particles are constantly floating off to touch the sensitive body, to bid
the door of sensation spring open ; and I think you must have felt that while those
avenues are touched by their proper affinities, there are other senses within which
are not touched, and never awakened, but which might own and yield to the appro-
priate key. Touch is, to me, far from being that endorsement of materialism it has
been described as being ; it is the assurance of an inhabitant behind the gateway.
Inded, the more closely I look into any of the senses, the more spiritual they become.
All knowledge is by contact ; all sympathy is in contact ; and sin and purity, and
health and disease, grow in contact. How true it is that there is no cure, no healing,
without contact — that is, without mutual touching. If we cannot get near to that
which heals, how can it heal us ? Suppose I know of the medicine which might
cure me, but I am in England, and the medicine or the physician is in America, and
it is the only medicine — how can I be cured f Hence, then, guard the avenues of
touch. It has been well said that the skin isolates the man, and makes him world-
tight; but it is necessary that the world's goods should come into his house — neces-
sary, too, that the refuse and wear and tear should be carried forth, and that he
should go out and in with the freedom of a man. The skin is our abode, not our
prison ; and the porous skin has its bivalve doors and windows, to admit supplies
from without, and to allow the spirit to steer forth from within. Some things we
must be careful to touch not. {Ibid.) Sin spreading by contact : — It contains
also the history of the transference of Divine holiness, but it is especially the
history of the inoculation of sin ; it is the history of the drop that taints and rains
the race — the fatal virus ; it is not inconceivable. I remember, some time since,
when in the University of Edinburgh, being told of a young man who slightly
touched his two fingers with the dissecting knife, they were instantly cut off to save
his life, so fatal was the touch of corruption. Such is the corrosive power of
poisonous touch. We can appreciate the touch of fire, the touch of caustic, the
touch of poison ; but can we not appreciate the touch of sin ? Can we not so far
appreciate it as to know its power, its danger, and to see in it the dreadful virus
tainting and damning our race ? {Ibid.) Christianity a liealing influence : — Now
it is, as I have before said, not difficult to perceive to what teaching all the doctrine
concerning touch in the Old Testament and in the New, points : even to the great
doctrine of a transferred or transfused purity. It is mournfully true that, for the
most part, except as we are divinely breathed upon, we but add to each other's im-
purity. Let the Book be removed from our midst — let all churoh ordinances
220 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. ▼,
expire from emong us — ^let every opportnmfj of prayer be suspended or at an
end — and all the of&ces of the religious life, as aided and inspired by the sacred
Soriptures, and then what shall we see 7 Still man would exercise his powers
as an artist — still would he ntter himself in poetry and in song, in pamting and in
sculpture. Can you doubt for a moment, or wonder, what would be the nature of
those performances? Anacreon, and Juvezial, and universal impurity over the marble
and over the canvas. When ;^ou think of man's genius, his native genius, you are not
to think of it as you behold it here, but as it was in the day in which the apostle bore
his witness in the prison at Bome, and on the hill of Greece ; and you must see how
the touch of holiness transformed all that impurity into the holy lights of virtue and
truth. But Greece, and Bome— what power had tiiey to impart purity to each other f
Therefore is there needed another ray, another touch, another hallowing fire. (Ibid.)
*' Twelve yean I " The eontraste of life: — In Capernaum there were two houses
whose inmates are strangely linked together in the Gospel history. The one was the
house of Jairus, which perhaps stood on the rising ground fast by the synagogue : the
other was the house in which the nameless woman, with the issue of blood, dwelt,
which probably was situated in the poorer part of the city. Let us mark the con-
trasts of life presented by these two houses in the "twelve years" twice men-
tioned by Mark. L Hope and feab — There was a day when a great event took
place in the house of Jairus. A child was bom. What congratulations of friends,
^c. The same jear — ^perhaps the same month and day — a memorable event took
place in the house of a poor woman. •• Issue of blood '* (v. 25). How it came is
not told. Such contrasts are common. In one home they are lifted up with hope
and joy ; while in another there is the gloom and trouble. U. Health Ain> sick-
ness. In the house of Jairus aU goes well. The child grows. She is the joy of
her parents, &o. But alas 1 how different have been the circumstances in the other
house. Perhaps the woman thought at first that her ailment was slight and tem-
porary. Certainly she was buoyed up with the hope that it would yield to the ddll
of physicians. But disappointed. III. Comfobt and pentjbt. Jairus must have
held a good position i he was wealthy. As to the woman, we cannot tell what her
original condition was. At any rate, she soon felt the pressure of adversity. lY.
Society and loneliness. Jairus had wife and daughter, and many friends. If he
needed sympathy, there would be always people ready to give it. Besides, he had
his place and his duties, as a ruler of the synagogue, to furnish him with honour-
able employment and holy rest. But how different with the poor woman. She is
represented as alone. No one is named as taking interest in her case. V. But
THERE CAME A TIMB WHEN THE FOBTUNES OF THESE TWO PEOPLE WEBB STRANGELY
assimilated, and when in their extremity they MET AND FOUND RELIEF AX THE
FEET OF THE SAME SAVIOUR. Lessous : 1. Troublo comes to all. 2. Trouble should
drive us to Christ. 8. Trouble should bind us more closely in sympathy and love
with our brethren. A, Trouble should endear to us the more the hope of heaven.
(TT. Forsytht M.A.) Methods of spiritttal treatment: — There are cases in which
the physicians must still, to save Ufe, resort to treatment which is painfuL But it
is now known, it is now conclusively settled among physicians, that the way to
master disease is not to torture the patient into health or into his grave, but to pro-
vide that those miraculous processes of nature which include healing should as far
as possible have fair play, to make art the handmaid of nature, instead of offer-
ing any violence to nature in the name of art Now-a-days, therefore, your
physician who is not "n age behind his age does not give you drugs in doses which
horribly aggravate your suffering — he prescribes fresh air, the delights of travel,
gentle exercise, good diet, warmth, comfort, suggests that pleasant company has
its own benign influence on body and mind, recommends innocent amusement, and,
as regards the welfare of this mortal tabernacle, agrees with the ancient maxim that
godliness with contentment is great gain. It is certain that more cures are effected
by the modem system of medical treatment, while, as for the soothing of pain, no
comparison is possible between them. The difference between the two systems is
that by the one the attempt is made to check and to extirpate disease by violence,
by the other to aid nature by gentle methods to overcome it. From doctors for the
body is not the passage easy to doctors for the soul ? Among them, too, the curing
of disease by violence has been much and long in vogue. In our day, it is true, we
hear little and know less of the coarser and more outrageous means which were
once universally approved for effecting spiritual cures. We don't now believe that
we ean save souls by burning the bodies belonging to them. Looking thus to the
general scope of the teaching of Christ, we have no difficulty in seeing what religion
T.j ST, Mark. 221
wa8 meant by Him to be in relation to all moral and spiritual disabilily and disease.
It was not to be a system of bleeding and blistering, of caring by counter-irritation,
of making six days of the week holy by making the seventh miserable, of making
earth a place of torment in order to render heaven accessible, of overcoming one
disease by the production of another. It was to be a kindred influence with the
sunshine, and the air of shores and hills, and the kindly ties of home, and the
sympathy which is born of comradeship in adversity and sorrow — it was to be an
influence kindred with all these in restoring to health those that were ready to
perish. Every way you choose to look at it, this is the character of the Christi-
Bnity of Christ. (J. Service ^ D.D,) Christ discriminates His healing virtue : —
Who would not think that a man might ladle up a dish of water out of the sea,
without its being missed ? Yet that water, though much, is finite ; those drops
may be numbered : that art which hath reckoned how many grains of sand would
make up a world, could more easily compute how many drops of water would make
np an ocean. Whereas, the mercies of God are absolutely inflnite, and beyond all
possibility of proportion ; and yet this bashful soul cannot steal one drop of mercy
from this endless, boundless, bottomless sea of Divine bounty, but it is felt and
questioned. {Bp. Hall.) Virtue had gone out of Him 1 Christ an inexhaustille
reservoir of grace : — As heat goeth out of the sun into the air, water, earth, earthly
bodies, and yet remains in the sun ; so here. A fountain is not drawn dry, but
cleared ; so skill is not lost by communicating it to others, but increased. (John
Trapp.) The looks of Jesus : — *' And He looked round about to see her that had
done this thing." The record in this Gospel of the looks of Christ is very remark-
able. Let us gather them together and by their help think of Him whose meek,
patient eye is still upon them that fear Him. I. The welcoming look of love and
pity to those who seek Him. There are two recorded instances — that of our text
and that of the young ruler. 11. The Lord's looks of love and warning to those
who found Him. There are three instances of this class — Mark iii. 34 ; viii. 32 ;
JL 23-27. The stooping love which claims us for His brethren, shines in His regard
none the less tenderly though He reads and warns us with His eye. III. The Lord's
look of anger and pity on His opponents. This took place in the synagogue
(Mark iii. 1-6). IV. The look of the Lord on the profaned temple (Mark xi 11).
How solemn that careful, all-oomprehending somtiny of all that He foond there.
{A, Maclaren, D,D,)
Ver. 86. Be not aftaid, only believe. — Only believe .•^Theebonmstanees in which
onr Lord uttered these simple but memorable words. . . . Did He say this for the
sake of Jairus alone? Nay, surely notl I take these precious words of our Lord,
and now especially apply them to one who is seeking forgiveness, bat who feels as
if he need scarcely hope, as if he could never be a child of Ood, Ao, If you have
some such feelings, it is just to you I say, ** Be not afraid, only believe I " 1. There
are some, many, alas I and the Bible scarcely contains a word which I should not
sooner think of addressing to them than, ** Be not afraid I '* O that I could make
them be afraid ! Who are they ? Persons who are not, and perhaps never were,
troubled with fear about their souls. Qod is too merciful to cast them out, or
they are not wicked enough to be lost, or they are sure to be converted before
they die, or they can make up for past defects by good living for the future. 2. But
to tiiee who like Jairus art troubled in heart and seeking help from Christ, and over
whose hopes dark feelings pass, as if it was all in vain, all too late— to thee I say,
** Be not afraid 1 '* While a man remains indifferent as to his soul, the great
deceiver seeks to persuade him that nothing is so easy as salvation; but the
moment conscience becomes awake, and the man begins in eameat to ask. What must
I do to be saved ? the deceiver changes his voice. Now, nothing is so dif&cult, so
impossible, as salvation. Before, it was too soon ; now, it is too late. " Be not
afraid, only believe 1 ** (1) Be not afraid that the day of grace is past. Why are
von thinking apon your soul ? Because God is still calling you, &o. While you
have one desire in your heart to say, •• Lord Jesus, if Thou wilt have mercy on such
as I, here I lay me at Thy feet, O save me I " your day of grace is not, cannot be,
past. (2) Be not afraid that your sins are too many. I do not believe you have
any idea how many they really are. But yon must not think that they are greater
than the mercies of God. 8. When He said to Jairus, '* Only believe," what idea did it
oonvey? Simply, trust to Me. Ton are not walking with Him side by side; you
cannot look into Hii countenance or hear the nnear&ly power of His words. But
He is aa close to you as He was to Jairas. When He said ** Only believe." the
222 THB BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [cha». r.
hopeless father had no alternative bat either to feel He is not tmsted, or to feel lie
will save her after all. Had be looked down to the ground, probably he would have
felt the first. If he looked full into the face of Jesus, he would feel. He cannot lie :
it seems impossible, but I must trust Thee. So with you. (1) Believe that He is
able to save thee. Make out as bad a case against yourself as ever yon can. In full
knowledge of this, fix your helpless soul upon His atonement, upon His interces*
sion. (2) Believe that He is willing to save you. The Lord has eealed His willing-
ness with these words, "Him that cometh to Me, I will in no wise cast out." (3)
Beheve that He is ready to save you. * * But I am not prepared " : He is. (4)
Believe that He will save you. This you must do. The woman came saying, " If
I may but touch the hem of His garment, I shall be made whole." It was this
faith that saved her. (William Arthur, M.A.) Be not afraid, only believe : —
This exhortation has two sides — ^the negative and the positive. I. In its neoativh
ASPECT (1) it does not apply to the reckless and the ungodly, for there is never a
period of their lives in which they ought not to fear. They have to fear — ^life and
death, present, past, and future, earth and heaven, time and eternity. The very
breath they breathe may be charged with its mission of judicial punishment ; (2)
but to those who are striving to live in accordance with the requirements of the
Divine will. When the soul has found her foundation to be the Rock of Ages, and
her rest in God ; when the earnest ot the Divine Spirit is received and felt as a
quickening power, then there is no need for alarm. II. In its positive aspect (1)
it indicates a means by which we may obtain release from causes which justify
fear. Christ is the central object of trust. He is able to save, and He is willing.
Here is a strong and lasting foundation ; (2) it is just the message needed by those
who are turning away from the spirit of the world, who feel it cannot meet their
wants when the heart stoops with grief, and when its fondest ties are being broken.
It may be, that when they turn to God, great difficulties present themselves. Old
habits are strong, the tendencies of the passions are earthward, and religion seems
gloomy and unattractive. Besides, a deep sense of guilt and shame oppress the souL
Thus the trial of faith is severe. Still the remedy is simple. Trust wholly in
God, and submit yourself to Him. ** Only believe " is to acknowledge God'e power
and one's own helplessness. It is a thing of instinct and of reason. (W, D,
Horwood.) Only believe: — I. Faith. It is faith that sends him on this errand;
faith in Jesus as a healer, for at first his faith only reached thus far. But Jesus
leads biTTi on ; and ends with realizing in Him the raiser of the dead. Faith often
begins with little and ends in much ; it begins with a trickling streamlet, and ends
with a full broad river. II. Faith oivino way. Does not faith often fail thus ?
We can go to Him for a little thing ; not for a great. Instead of feeling that the
worse the case the greater the glory to His power and love, we stop short, and cease
to expect anything from Him. III. Faith stbbnqthened. *• Fear not," &o. IV.
Faith victokious. The victory is resurrection. V. Unbelief bebukjbd. Excluded
from the glorious spectacle. (H. BonaTy D.D.) Only believe:—!. CoNCKRNiNa
this feab. 1. Fearfulness is common in applicants to the Saviour, and it springs
from such sources as the following : (1) Ignorance of the power and resources of the
Saviour. We may believe that He can heal disease, but doubt that He can raise
the dead. (2) From morbid imagination of danger and of mischief. These we
exaggerate. (3) Hardness of heart towards Christ's chief display of love, especially
that manifestation of His mercy which He has given by dying for us. (4) Then
there is the memory and the consciousness of sin. 2. There can be nothing in the
circumstances of an applicant to Jesus Christ to justify fear. Jesus does not reject
you for sin, weakness, sadness — nothing is difficult to Him. He will do all at the
right time. 8. Fearfulness when cherished is positively displeasing to the Saviour.
It is groundless, dishonouring, injurious to ourselves. II. Conceenino trust. 1.
Trust in Jesus is His due. 2. It is not always easy. 8. Are you all applicants to
Jesus Christ? •* Be not afraid,** Trust for the knowledge which is essential to life
and salvation. (5. Martin.) The charge of Christ under affliction : — 1. When
difficulties are numerous and complicated. 2. When temptations are powerful and
malignant. S. When sickness occurs and is continued. 4. When bereaving pro-
vidences are experienced. 6. What is the character and influence of our faith
under these painful circumstances ? (T. Wallace.) Faith : — Much is said in the
Word of God of the principle of faith. The place that it occupies in the scheme of
redemption is a very important one. It is essential to salvation. Without it we
must remain destitute of all its blessings. This will be evident if we apply it —
L To TBM asNXBAi. i>ociBiNX OF SALVATION. To every inquirer for salvation wt
v.] ST. MARK. 22a
Bay, •* Only believe." Not that faith is the originating eanm of salvation, for that
were to deny the free grace of God ; nor that faith is the procaring canse of salva-
tion, for that were to set aside the efficacy of Christ's atonement ; nor that faitli
is the efficient oanse of salvation, for that were to set aside the agency of the Holy
Spirit : but we say that faith is the instrumental cause of salvation, that without the
exercise of which no individual can experience salvation. This is the doctrine of the
gospel (Acta xvi. 31, xiii. 39 ; Eph. ii 8 ; Romans iii. 20-28, v. 1). 1. This method of
salvation conveys most glory to God. 2. This method of salvation alone produces
real obedience. 8. This method is in accordance with the other parts of redemption.
Let us apply the principle before us — II. To the cask of the true penitent. III. To
GhBISTIAN BEIilEVEBS. IV. To THE TBIAI.S AND 8UFFEBINOB OF THE CHRISTIAN LIFE.
It is applicable— 1. To seasons of temptation. 2. To seasons of afflictive providences^
(W. M, Bunting,) Believing : — I. The pbbsomb to whom the text is applicable.
The case of Jairos. There was an evil he wanted to remove. A danger he wanted
to prevent. A blessing he wanted to procure. 1. The first qualification of souls
coining to Jesus is a sense of want, some evil to be removed, &o. 2. This sense of
want brings us out of ourselves — out of dependence on mere external means. 3.
The expression of our wants in earnest supplication. 4. Jaims came to Christ in
faith. II. The natdbe of the delightful duty and pbivilbqe. 1. Fear is a
painful feeling, arising from the apprehension of some evil. A man at the feet of
Jesus need not indulge in tormenting fear, for there is no evil he is in danger of but
he may be saved from — no blessing he needs but he may secure. ** Fear not,'* <&c.
2. What is this believing — what is faith ? Sometimes it is called looking, receiving,
&o. III. The bioht you have to all the encoubaqsmbnt in the text. 1. If you
have the sense of need, and if you are at the feet of Jesus, then you have an abso-
lute, personal. Scriptural right to appropriate the salvation of God as your own.
You are just where a sinner ought to be, &o. 2. You have a right because you
comply witii the invitation. 3. You are at the central point of all the promises.
All "yea and amen *' in Him. 4. Will you still indulge in tormenting fear ? *' Yes,"
says one, ** You don't know what reason I have to fear," &o. Enumerate the
varions sonrces of fear, and show that no sinner need fear who is truly penitent
and at the feet of Jesus. (W, Dawson.) Only believe: — Mr. Moody was one
night preaching in Philadelphia ; near the pulpit sat a young lady, who listened
with eager attention, drinking in every word. After he had done talking, he went
to her. "Are yon a Christian f" "No," she replied, "I wish I was; I've been
seeking Jesus for three years." Mr. Moody replied, *' There must be some mis-
take." "Don't you believe me?" said the distressed girl. " Well, no doubt you
think you have been seeking Jesus ; but, believe me, it don't take three years for a
seeking soul to meet a seeking Saviour." " What am I to do, then ? " " You have
been trying to do long enough ; you must just believe on the Lord Jesns Christ."
"Oh!" said the young lady, "lam so tired of that word: 'Believe,' * believe,'
* believe I * I don't know what it means." " Then we'll change the word, and say,
* trust.' " " If I say, * I'll trust Him,' will He save me ? " "I don't say that, for
yon may say ten thousand things ; but if yon do trust ELim, He certainly will."
" Well," said she, " I do trust him ; but I don't feel any better 1 " " Ah 1 " said
Mr. Moody, "I see ; you've been looking for feelings for three years, instead ot
looking to Jesus." If the translators of the Bible had everywhere inserted " feel-
ings" instead of "faith," what a run there would be npon the book. But God
does not say a word about feelings from (Genesis to Bevelation. With men " seeing
is believing " bnt with the behever " believing is seeing." An orphan child was
onoe asked by her little friend, " What do you do without a mother to tell your
troubles to ? " " Mother told me to go to Jesus ; He was mother's Friend, and
He's my Friend too," was the simple reply. " But He is a long way eff ; He won't
stop to mind you." Her face brightened, as she said : "I don't know about that,
but I know He says He will, and that* f enough for me." And should not that be
enough for you and me t {Anon*)
Yer. 48.— SometbMsr ilioiild be glren h«r to MX.— Feeding vpon Chrut ;— A obbax
THmo NBVBB XADB Chbist foboet k LiTTXiB THING. This Is real greatness. Always
as yoo go np to the highest, yon find it more and more that the little things take a
larger place. The disclosures of the microscope are quite as wonderful as the dis-
coveries of the telescope. And if any thoughtful, rehgions man had to tell what
bad given him his highest idea of God, and made the deepest impression of His love,
be woold probablj imgle oat some very small event of life. It was so wondaxfa^
3t4 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap. ti.
and 10 good, that the great Ood ehoold oare to notice, and superintend, and answez
prayer, about snch a little thing, whioh might have appeared bo very insignificant.
And, correBpondingly, that is the greatest faith which is occupied about minutiaa.
There is many a man who believes that he is saved ; but yet finds it very hard to
trust God for the details of oommon life. God alwats febds the life Hb gives.
I see it in creation. The light and air created before vegetable life ; the vegetable
life before animal life ; animal life before human life. To an observant eye, the
whole earth is a table laid out, and amply spread for the sustenance of everything
whioh God's hand has made. But it is not only concerning your bodily life, that
you may rest secure that God will maintain the being He has made : there is the
life of your intellect ; and a man's mind needs food as much as his body. And has
not God secured it? Are not subjects for thought, and for the exercise of our
rational faculties, in every place? God'i great lesson-book around him, and
beneath him, and above him, every moment, in all the beauties of earth, and sky,
and air, and sea, teeming with their suggestive wonders and their great teaching
facts ? And now the great question is, '♦ What is it which He gives us to eat, and
which is the vitality of a soul? and how is it communicated ? " In its strictest and
truest sense, the answer to that question is only one — *' Christ is the food of the
soul." Never think that your Bible will be " feeding '* of itself. Neither its words,
nor its histories, nor its doctrines, nor its promises. You must find the Christ that
is in it, before it feeds you. And the more Christ you find in the word, the more
that word will feed your soul. Secondly, all spiiitual acts between the soul and
God feed. Meditation — adoration — prayer — secret converse. For the Holy Ghost
IJows through means. And He carries Christ into the very currents of your being,
lill Christ mingles with your very life-blood. And each time that happens, it
renews, it restores, it strengthens, it expands some part of the inner life ; and by
continual applications you have "life," and you have it more abundantly.''
Thirdly, that habit formed, and that communication opened to the heart, there is
nothing which may not convey nutriment to a believer's soul. Everything that is
beautiful — everything that is loving — everything that is wise— everything that is
true — ^in nature, in art, in science, in history, and in Providence — every-
thing may be an element of nutrition. It may all turn to spiritual nerve, and
power, and growth. And fourthly, to a very great extent, Christian intercourse
and fellowship feed. And you must remark that our Lord did not say to the
damsel, ** Eat," but to those before her, " Give you to her to eat." We are bound
to feed one another. Whatever knowledge, or grace, or peace, or comfort, God has
given yon, He says, " Feed, with this, one of My lambs." But fifthly, and especi-
ally, the Holy Communion. This was ordained for this very end. It is essentially
feeding. It is the feast where there is spread the richest, the sweetest, and the
best! How can some of you expect your souls to live, if you negleel this great
Bustentation of all spiritual life 7 {J. Vaughan, MjL,)
CHAPTEB YL
TsBfl. 1-^. And He went out from thence, and eame Into Bis own eonntry.—
Jesiu re-visits Nazareth : — I. Gbacious gomdescbnsion. Jesus, although He had
been cruelly treated at Nazareth, once more turns His steps homewards. Jesus
practised what He preached (Matt, xviii. 21, 22). Love of home natural to men.
Thoughts suggested by visits home. How shall we be received — ^welcomed or
slighted? Have we so passed our time since we left home, that we may deserve a
cordial reception ; or may even some poor Nazareth be justifiably ashamed of ns 7
II. Unwobthy prejudices. •* He came to His own and His own received Him not."
Neither did His brethren believe in Him (John vii. 5). Why ? Because He was
known to them ; and was poor and of lowly origin. Some look at religion as chil-
dren at books, more attracted by the binding than the contents. III. Fataii rejso-
TiOM. Nazareth turned its back on Jesus. He left never to return. Learn : I. To
do good to those who despitefully use us and persecute us. II. To guard against
evil and ignorant prejudices, ill. To take heed how we reject Jesus. lY. To
beseech Him to return and save us, if we have thoughtlessly or wilfully slighted
Him. (/. O, Qray.) Christ's return to Nazareth : — Was it not a strange meta-
CHAP. Ti.] 8T. MARK, 226
morphosis to Him—once a peasant lad ; now the Light of the world I And yet here
Are surroundings unchanged, and natures as narrow and stupid as ever, and He,
h*ving moved away from them as the infinite is remote from the finite ; He, able
to heal the sick and forgive sins by a word, and they helpless and hopeless in both
body and soul. As He spoke, authority seemed to voice itself in natural, faultless
utterance. He had not gained this gift at the feet of any sage. Public debate oould
not confer it. The people were ast onished. Such wisdom and such deeds are not
in the carpenter's line, they said. I. Thb binnbb cannot undebstand nob endubb
THB SAINT. Humanity cannot comprehend divinity. Now, no more than then, is
there any room for Christ where Satan rules. H. God's greatbst blbssinqs abb
OFTEN PREVENTED BY man's distbdst. Unbelief forfeits infinite mercies. So does
unauthorized credulity. {De W. S. Clark.) Unbelief at Nazareth .-—Our Lord
may have had two reasons for leaving Capernaum and for visiting Nazareth. One,
a personal reason — to see His mother and His sisters, who seem to have been
married there. The other, a ministerial reason — to escape from the busy throogs
who resorted to Him by the lake, and to take a new centre for evangehstic labours
on the part of Himself and His disciples. I. The uneeasonablbnbss and inex-
cusablbness of unbelief in Chbist. 1. He was well-known to them. They had
hitherto always found Him true and upright ; therefore they ought to have candidly
considered His claims. 2. He brought with Him a great and acknowledged reputa-
tion. 3. He came to Nazareth and taught pubHcly, thus giving His townsmen an
opportunity of judging for themselves of His wisdom and moral authority. II.
The grounds of unbelief in Chbist. 1. Prejudice on account of His origin and
circumstances. 2. His educational deficiency. He had not been trained in the
rabbinical schools, so they thought nothing of Him. III. The rebuke of unbelief.
" A prophet is not without honour," &c. There was sadness in Christ's language
and tone. Yet what a reproach to the unbeheving ! They might be offended ;
there were others who would believe, evince gratitude, and render honour. IV. Thk
consequences of unbelief. 1. Christ " marvelled." 2. The results to the people
of the town were lamentable-— " He could do no mighty work." 3. Benefit to
others—" He went round about the villages, teaching." The indifference or con-
tempt of the unspiritual and Belf-suflfieient may be the occasion of enlightenment
and consolation to the lowly, receptive, needy. Application : (a) The coming of
CbxiMi to a wnl, or conmiunity, is a moral probation involving serious responsi-
bility. (6) It is the most fatal guilt and folly, in considering the claims of Christ,
to overlook the wisdom and grace of His character and ministry, and to regard cir-
cumstances at which the superficial and carnal may take offence. {J, R. Thomson,
M.A.) Jesus visiting Hi$ own country: — ^By going thither — I. He obatified a
HUMAN TBABNINO. II. Hb ILLUSTRATED AFRESH AN OLD AND FAMILIAB EXPERIENCE.
1. He was one of many, yet by Himself even in this. 3. One of the greatest of
griefs to a pious spirit, to be hindered from doing good and conferring benefit. 3.
A greater humiliation than His human birth, because a moral one consciously ex-
perienced. IH. He exhibited Divinb mebct, 1. Past offences were forgiven. 2.
Although conscious of restriction because of their unbelief and indifference, He still
persisted in His works of mercy. {A. F. Muir, M.A.) Rejection of Christ:—!.
iNDnmiBBMCE TO Chbibt sometimes arises fbom vamiliasity with His bubround-
iNOi, Beware of that familiarity with sacred things which deadens spiritual sensi-
bility. II. Contempt fob Chbist sometimes spbinqs fbom association with His
vbiends. III. The bejection of Christ brings about a withdrawal of His influ-
bnoe — •• He could not," Ac. His power was omnipotent, but it conditioned itself,
as infinite power always does in this world ; and by this limitation it was not
lessened, but was glorified as moral and spiritual power. If faith, the ethical con-
dition, be absent, we bind the Saviour's hands, and He cannot do for ns what He
would. He does not wish to leave us, but He must ; old impressions become feebler,
the once sensitive heart waxes dull. (A. Rowland, LL.B,) Christ at home :—
I. Thb woNDEBfl in bvebt-day life. Growth of knowledge and experience ; change
of circumstances, Ac, H. The jealousy of home-grown greatness. Tyranny of
custom. Beware of egotism, shutting out from light and beauty, divinity and
blessedness. HI. The most invincible obstacle is thb will of man. Against
stupidity even the gods fight in vain 1 When the business of the kingdom seems at
a standstill, ask whether the cause be not want of wish, will, prayer. {E. Johnson
M.A.) Detracting from the Divine greatness of Christ:— I. How thu is donb.
1. By attributing Divine effects to secondary causes. 2. Absence of faith and spiri-
tual sympathy. 8. By being offended at the mystery of His humiliation, either in
15
226 TEE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap. n.
Himself or in His followers. U. What it pboduoks. 1. Unsatisfied indeoision.
2. Hardening of heart. 3. The doubter's own loss. (A. F, Muir, M.A.)
Vers. 3,4. Is not this the carpenter T Jena Christ, the carpenter : — ^I. How
THE FACT THAT JeSUS WAS A CABPENTEB WAS A HINDBANCK TO THE FAITH OF Hl8
FELLOW-COUNTRYMEN. 1. The Objection was natural. He had grown up among
them. They had become familiar with His ways. 2. Yet it was wrong and
unreasonable. Their intimacy with Him ought to have opened their eyes to His
unique character. 3. The objection they raise against His claims tells really in
His favour. They find no fault in His character ; they can only complain of His
trade. High, unconscious tribute to His excellence. H. How this fact should be
A help to our faith. 1. It is a sign of Christ's humility. 2. It is a proof that He
went through the experience of practical life. Christ knows good work, for He looks
at it with a workman's eye. 3. He found the school for His spiritual training in
His practical work. 4. This sheds a glory over the life of manual industry. 5.
This should attract working-men to Christ. {W. F. Adeney, M.A.) The dignity
of honest labour : — If labour was first imposed as a curse, it is turned truly into a
blessing by this example of Him who thus wrought. The occupancy of a sphere of
lowly industry by Christ, henceforth consecrates it as — ^I. A suitable occupation o»
TIME. 1. Profitable. 2. Healthful. 3. Saves from bad effects of indolence. 4. A
source of pure and useful enjoyment. II. An honourable means of maintenance.
1. Nothing degrading in it. 2. Deserves and commands fair remuneration. 3.
Preserves a man's independence. III. A worthy service to others. The products
of industrial toil, especially of handicraft, are serviceable in the highest degree. With-
out them the comfort of large communities must be greatly impaired. He, there-
fore, who works with his hands the thing that is good, is a useful and honourable
servant of his race. 1. In the lowliest spheres, the loftiest powers are not necessarily
degraded. 2. In those spheres the holiest sentiments may be cherished, and the
holiest character remain untarnished. 3. Whilst in them the humblest labourer
may know that his toil is honoured, for it was shared by his Lord. (R. Green.)
Value of industrial employments: — The word carpenter was given as an alternative
translation by Wycliffe, and has descended into aU the succeeding English versions ;
WycUffe's primary translation was smith, the word that was used in the Anglo-
Saxon version. It had in Anglo-Saxon a generic meaning, equivalent to artificer,
A worker in iron was called in Anglo-Saxon iren-smith. A smith is one who smites ;
a carpenter is one who makes cars. The word carpenter, therefore, must be a
much later coinage than the word smith. The original Greek term (rl/criyv) means
primarily a producer; the word wright very nearly corresponds to it, as being
closely connected with wrought or worked. It just means worker, and occurs in
Anglo-Saxon in the two forms wryhta and wyrhta. This is the only passage in
which it is stated that our Lord worked at a handicraft. It is a different expression
that is found in Matt. xiii. 63, " Is not this the carpenter's son ? " There is no
contradiction, however, between the two representations ; both might be coinci-
dently employed, and no doubt were, when the Nazarenes were freely and frettingly
canvassing the merits of their wonderful townsman. Our Lord would not be trained
to idleness ; it was contrary to Jewish habits, and to the teaching of the best
Jewish rabbis. It would have been inconsistent moreover with the principles of
true civilization, and with the ideal of normal human development. It is no evidence
of high civilization, either to lay an arrest on full physical development on the one
hand, or on the other to encourage only those modes of muscular and nervous
activity which are dissociated from useful working and manufacturing skill. Society
will never be right until aU classes be industrious and industrial : the higher orders
must return to take part in the employments of the lower ; the lower must rise up
to take part in the enjoyments of the higher. (J. Morison, D.D.) The village car-
penter in our Lord's time held the position of the modem village blacksmith. Almost
«U agricultural instruments — ploughs.harrows, yokes, &c. — were made of wood. His
workshop was the centre of the village life. {T. M. Lindsay, D.D.) Jesus came
from amongst the labouring classes: — That Jesus did in fact spring from the
labouring class of the population, is confirmed by the language of His discourses
And parables, which everywhere refer to the antecedents and relations of the
ordinary workman's life, and betray a knowledge of it which no one could have
gained merely by observation. He was at home in those poor, windowless, Syrian
hovels in which the housewife had to light a candle in the day-time to seek for her
lott piece of silver. He was acquainted with the secrets of the bakehouse, of the
n.] ST. MARK. 22T
^rdener, and the builder, and with things which the upper classes never see — as
" the good measure pressed down and shaken together running over " of the corn
ehandier ; the rotten, leaking wine-skin of the wine-dealer ; the patchwork of the
peasant woman ; the brutal manners of the upper servants to the lower, — these
and a hundred other features of a similar kind are interwoven by Him into His
parables. Reminiscences even of His more special handicraft have been found, it
is believed, in His sayings. The parable of the splinter and the beam is said to
recall the carpenter's shop, the uneven foundations of the houses, the building
yard, the cubit which is added, the workshop, and the distinction in the appearance
of the green and dry wood, the drying-shed. {Haiisrath.) Self-respect vital to
religion : — They could not believe in any Divine inspiration reaching such as them-
selves, and therefore resented it in Christ as an unjustifiable pretension of
superiority. They had no proper faith in themselves, so had no proper faith in
God. Self-respect is vital to religion. They believed in a God in a kind of way,
but not in a God who touched their neighbourhood or entered into close dealings
with Nazarenes. They were not on the outlook for the beautiful and the divine in
the lives of men. No Nazarene Wordsworth had shown them the glory of common
life, the beauty and divinity that exist wherever human life will welcome it. {B.
Glover.) The model artisan: — These words reveal to us — I. Chbist'b social
POSITION. 1. That he sympathised with the humblest sons of men. 2. That social
rank is no criterion of personal worth. 3. That moral and spiritual excellence
should be honoured in whomsoever found. II. Chbist's manual labodb. 1. That
honourable industry and holy living may co-exist. 2. That mental development
and physical toil may be associated. Conclusion : Observe — (a) That labour is
essential, not only to existence, but to happiness. (6) That the greater our
industry the fewer our temptations, (c) That Christ waits to sanctify the duties of
life to our spiritual interest. {A. G. Churchill.) The Divine Carpenter: — The
Divine Carpenter applies the language of His earthly trade to the spiritual things
He has created. 1. He has built a Church. 2. He has founded the resurrection —
" Destroy tlds temple, and in three days I will raise it up." 3. He has established
His divinity — " The stone which the builders rejected has become the head of
the comer." 4. He has prepared oui- eternal home — "In My Father's house,"
&o. 5. He has urged earnest heed to our building. (C M. Jones.) Jesus in
the workshop : — ^I. We see Him hebb beabino the cuksb op the fall — •• In the
sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread," <fec. H. We see Him hebe BBiNOiNa
HlMBBUP NEAB to all MEN. HI. He BNTEBS THE W0BK8H0P THAT He MAT UNITE
MEN AS BBETHBEN. lY. He ENTEBS THE WOBESHOP THAT He IXAY SANCTIFT ALL 8ECU-
LAB liiFB. {J. Johnston.) Work the law of life : — From that tiny fly thus at
work all day over your head, to the huge hippopotamus of the Nile, that seems to
spend its life-time half asleep, all have to work. But emphatically is this true of
man. The wild Indian huntsman, as he plunges over the prairie armed with
tomahawk or rifle, in pursuit of the thundering buffalo ; the Bosjesman, in the
impenetrable thickets of Africa, as he digs with hardened, homy Angers for the
roots on which he lives ; the amphibious South Sea Islander, as he wages perilous
warfare with the monsters of the ocean ; the fur-clad Esquimaux, as he tracks the
bear or seal of the icy north ; us well as the semi-civilized myriads of Asia, or the
more advanced peoples of Europe — all find this world is a workshop, and they must
toil to live. And the exceptions to this rule are fewer than at first sight we are apt
to suppose. It is not only the artisan who has to work, but also the merchant
amongst his wares, the authoi- amongst his books, the statesman with the aflairs of
the nation, and the sovereign upon his throne. Whether impelled by the neces-
sities of mere existence, or by the necessities of position and spirit, it may be said
of all — "Men must work." Onr Lord, therefore, came near imto us when Ha
entered the workshop. But as the great majority must gain their daily bread by
manual labour, He entered even into that condition as the village carpenter of
Nazareth. Had He been born in a palace and to a throne, or even into the estate
of a wealthy merchant, He would have been separated, not in His feeling, but in
theirs, by a great gulf from the great majority of men. {Ibid.) Manual work
redeemed : — ^See how our whole life is redeemed, so that it may all be lived unto God
and for eternity, and none of it be lost. He entered the kingdom of toil and sub-
dued it to Himself for our salvation, so that toil is no more a curse to the Christian
workman. The builder, as he lays brick on brick, may be building a heavenly
temple ; the carpenter, as he planes the wood, may thereby be refining his own
character and that of others around him ; the merchant, as he buys and sells, may
228 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chat, n,
be bnyisg the pearl of great price ; the statesman may be directing the affairs of Ml
eternal kmgdom; the householder may be setting her house in order for the coming
of her Lord. As the blood of the sacrifice was put not only upon the ear, but upon
the toe, of Aaron and his sons, so oar Lord when, by entering it, He sanctified
human life, sanctified its meanest and most secular things, spending His holy and
Divine life mostly in the workshop. Brethren, whatever our station, we may live
a holy, god-hke, useful life. {Ibid.) The royal shipwright : — A strange workman
took his place one day amongst the shipwrights in a building yard in Amsterdam.
Fit only for the rudest work, he was content at first to occupy himself with the
caulking mallet, hewing of wood, or the twisting of ropes, ;( et displayed the keenest
desire to understand and master every part of the handicraft. But what was the
astonishment of his fellow- workmen to see persons of the highest rank come to pay
their respects to him, approaching him with every mark of regard, amid the dust
and confusion of the workshop, or clambering up the rigging to have an audienc«
with him on the maintop. For he was no less a personage than Peter the Great,
founder of the Kussian Empire. He came afterwards to England, and lodged
amongst the workshops in Deptford. Bishop Burnet, when he visited him, said he
had gone to see a mighty prince, but found a common shipwright. But the king
who had invited him to visit this country understood him better. He was the ruler
of an empire vaster in extent than any other in Europe, but as far behind the poorest
financially as it was before it territorially. It was, in fact, in a state of absolute
barbarism. Its largest ship was a fishing-boat, and it was as yet destitute of almost
all, even the rudest arts of civilization. The Czar, determined to elevate his people,
ordered the youth of the nobihty to travel in lands distinguished by wealth and
power, and become qualified to take part in the regeneration of their own country,
be himself showing them the example. It was thus that wonderful spectacle was
seen by the astonished workmen, ambassadors waiting in state on a man in the
dress and at the work of a common shipwright. (Ibid.) Useful refections on
Christ's working as a carpenter : — I. To niLusxBATB this observable cikcumstanck
OF OUR Lord's lite. It was a maxim among the Jews, that every man should bring
up his son to some mechanic trade. II. To suggest some useful remarks from
THIS OBSERVABLE CIRCUMSTANCE OF ouB Lord's LIFE, 1. A porson's Original, his
business and circumstances in life, often occasion prejudices against him : against
his most wise, useful, and instructive observations. 2. Such prejudices are very
absurd, unreasonable, and mischievous. 3. The condescension of the Son of God
in submitting to such humiliation, demands our admiration and praise. 4. The
conduct of our Lord reflects an honour upon trade, and upon those who are
employed in useful arts. 6. This circumstance in Christ's life furnisheth aU,
especially young persons, with an example of diligence and activity. 6. Persons
may serve God and follow their trades at the same time. (J. Orton.) Jesus an
offence : — The word rendered offended is scandalized in the original. It is a very
giaphic word, but incapable of adequate translation. It presents to view a com-
plex picture. Christ was to His kmsmen and townsmen like a scandal, or catch-
stick, in a trap. They did not see what He was. They hence heedlessly ran up
against Him and struck on Him, to their own utter ensnarement ; they were
spiritually caught ; they became fixed in a position in which it was most undesirable
to be fixed ; they were spiritually hurt, and in great danger of being spiritually
destroyed. Such are the chief elements of the picture. The actual outcome of the
whole complex representation may be given thus: They spiritually stumbled on
Jesus. To their loss they did not accept Him for what He really was. They rejected
Him as the Lord High Commissioner of heaven. They came into collision with
Him, and were ensnared, by suspecting that His indisputable superiority to ordinary
men in word and work was owing to some other kind of influence than what was
right and from above. {J. Morison, D.D.) Offended at the carpenter's son : — People
in high station or of high birth are very often displeased if one of humbler posi-
tion excels them in anything. The nobles of Scotland did not work hand in hand
with Wallace, because he had not such good blood as they gloried in. Jealousy of
greatness in neighbours : — Our Lord specifies three concentric circles of persons to
whom every prophet is nearly related. There is (1) the circle of his little father-
land, or district of country, or township ; (2) the circle of his relatives or "kin ; "
(3) the circle of his nearest relatives, the family to which he belongs. In each of
these circles there is in general but little readiness to recognize native or nascent
superiority. The principles of self-satisfaction, self-confidence, self-complacency,
come in to lay a presumptive interdict upon any adjoining self rising up in emineiMie
n.] 8T, MARK. 229
above the my-self. The temporary advantage of age, and thus of more protracted
experience, asserts to itself for a season a sort of coanter-superiority ; and the mere
fact of proximity makes it easy to open the door for the influence of envy, an
ignoble vice that takes effect chiefly in reference to those on whom one can actually
look (invidia^ in-vides). In the long run, indeed, real superiority, if time be granted
it, will vindicate for itself its own proper place in the midst of all its concentric
circles. But, in general, this will be only after victories achieved abroad have made
it impossible for the people at home to remain in doubt. (J. Morisoiit D.D.)
Vers. 6, 6. And He could there do no mighty work. — The unbelief of the Naza-
renei : — Our plan will be to give you in the first place oebtain reasons wht,
WHERE THE UNBEUEF WAS 8TB0MOEST, THE MIRACLES WERE FEW ; and then in the
second place, to examine the particular terus in which St. Mark speaks of oub
Lord's conduct at Nazareth. Now the first thing to be observed is, that, though
our Lord wrought not many miracles among His countrymen, He wrought some :
BO that they were not wholly without the means of conviction. Undoubtedly it
is altogether a mistake to imagine that miracles give evidence in proportion as they
are multiplied ; it would not be difficult to prove, that the reverse of this is nearer
the matter of fact. But if more and greater miracles would have made them be-
lievers, why did He not work more and greater ? Do you not know that God deals
with men as with rational creatures ; and that if He were to make proof irresistible,
men would virtually cease to be accountable. It is God's course to do v,h&t is
sufficient to assist you, but not what will compel you to be saved. But we do not
see any reason to suppose that it was exclusively in judgment, and in order to punish
the obstinacy of His countrymen, that our Lord refrained from working miracles
in Nazareth. Christ, in virtue of His omniscience, saw that He should be rejected,
even if He wrought many wonders. He would determine, in virtue of His benevo-
lence, to work only few. Yon cannot but see that individuals are often favoured for
a time with spiritual advantages, and then placed in circumstances where those
advantages are wanting. But we shall let you more thoroughly into an understand-
ing of the conduct of our Lord, if we now examine, in the second place, more par-
ticularly, the TERMS IN WHICH THAT CONDUCT IS DESCRIBED IN OUR TEXT. YoU obserVO
that St. Mark represents it as not having been altogether optional with Christ,
whether or no He would work many mighty miracles in Nazareth ; he rather speaks
of actual inability : •• He could there do no mighty works." " He was unable," is
the original, " to do there any mighty work." In what sense, then, are we to sup-
pose that He was unable ? We are sure He was not unable in the sense of de-
ficiency, so that the inability must be interpreted as meaning, not that oar Lord
was actually unable, but unable consistently with certain fixed principles, with what
was due to His own character and mission. You may find, indeed, some few excep-
tions to this rule in the narratives of the evangelists ; but ordinarily you will per-
ceive that our Lord inquired into the faith of the party before He made that party
the subject of a miracle ; as though, unless two things concurred — power on one
side, and belief on the other — there was to be no supernatural working. But still,
when we have shown that our Lord's rule throws no suspicion on His miracles, it
will naturally be inquired why such a rule was prescribed and enforced. Say what
we will, the miracle would have been more striking if wrought on an unbeliever ;
and it seems strange to ask that faith as a preliminary, which you are accustomed
to look for as a consequence. On this we have to observe, that a miracle, though
it required faith in its actual subject, did not require faith in the bystanders, and
might, therefore, be instrumental in subduing their unbelief. But, if what Christ
did for a diseased body were emblematic of what He would do for a diseased soul,
how natural, how necessary, that He should require faith in those who sought to
be healed. Otherwise, as you may all have remarked, it might have been thought
that Christ would heal unconditionally as a spiritual physician. If faith be sur-
prising from what its possession can effect, it is yet more surprising from what its
non-possession can effect. And shall we doubt, men and brethren, that there if
much the same baneful energy in our own unbelief, a.^ in that of the Nazarenes 7
•* The Word preached did not profit them, not being mixed with faith in them that
heard it." So that even as the want of faith in the men of Nazareth prevented
Christ from showing Himself as a worker of miracles, so may want of faith in our-
selves, prevent Him from showing Himself as the Healer of souls. {H. Melvill,
B.D,) The power of unbelief: — What an idea it gives us of the wonder-working
power of JesQf — that to ** lay His hands on a few sick folk, and heal them," wag
230 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [oha». n.
not aeeoanted u mnj very ** mighty " thing. And how irrepressible must be that
grace which, even where it was restrained, must go forth, and go forth savingly, to
some, fiappy some 1 who in the midst of that wilderness of faithlessness, retained their
faith, and carried off faith's reward. A type of that little, blessed band in every
age whom the Lord chooses, and the Lord heals — as if to show in them what all life
had been, if only all life had had faith. Great and many are the things which God
has done for every one of us, they are but as nothing in comparison with what He
might have done, and would have done, if only we had let £Qm. Now remember
that the place was Nazareth — the most privileged spot of the whole earth ; for there,
of thirty-three years, Jesus spent nearly thirty. There, His holy boyhood, and the
piety of His early manhood, had shed their lustre. And now, mark this, brethren —
true to nature, true to the experience of the Church — true to the convictions of
every heart — in the minds of the men of Nazareth there was an unholy familiarity
with holy things — with the name, and the person, and the work, and the truth of
Jesus Christ. Therefore, in the minds of the men of Nazareth, there was the usual
consequence of that kind of familiarity — they looked at the external, till they were
absorbed in the external. They had no faith — the material view destroyed the
spiritual. They grovelled in the confidence of an outside knowledge till they be-
came steeped in unbelief. Am I wrong in my fear that the more light, the less love ;
and that faith has retired as knowledge has advanced f There are two great truths
which we must always lay down as fundamental principles. One is, that the love
and beneficence of God are always welling and waiting, like some gushing fountain,
to pour themselves out to all His creatures. And the other, that there must be a
certain state of mind to contain it — a preparation of the heart to receive the gift —
both, indeed, of grace, but the one the moral condition of the soul previous and
absolutely necessary to the other. Before you can have the gift, you must believe
the Giver. Continually God is communicating the power to believe, in order that
afterwards He may fill the vessel of your belief with every possible good. But then,
all depends on the way in which you welcome and cherish that first imparting of
the grace of the Spirit. Without it, not another drop will flow. Tou go to your
knees in prayer, and, within the range of the promises, there is no limit to the
answers which God has covenanted to that prayer. (J. Vaughafif M.A.) Unbelief
jrreventing the mighty works of Christ : — I. The mighty works wbought bt Ghbist.
II. The beason why these mighty works have not been wrought on a
LABGER scAiiE. 1. Is it becauso God is unwilling to save sinners ? His nature,
&c., forbid such an idea. 2. Is it that God is unable to save? 3. Is it that
the benefits of the atonement are limited to a few? 4. Is it that there is some
defect in the Gospel? Man is the cause — unbeliet Conclusion: 1. Unbelief
is absurd and unreasonable. God has ever kept His word. 2. Unbelief is abso-
lutely criminal. Implies forgetfulness of past favours, <feo. 8. Unbelief is ruinous.
It prevents man's salvation, <&c. 4. The great importance of faith. {A. Weston.)
Unbelief a wonder : — I. It is irrational. 1. Unlimited and perfect knowledge
belong to God alone. 2. Absolute uncertainty and doubt can be attributed to no
intelligence whatever. Faith is a necessary condition in the spiritual life and
prayers of all finite intelligences. IL It is inconsistent. 1. We are constantly
exercising faith in inferior matters. 2. The evidence of the gospel is of the highest
and most satisfactory kind. lU. It is criminal. 1. If it is the result of non-
examination of evidence, there is sin of neglect. 2. If he has examined, and still
does not believe, there must be mental inaptitude or moral resistance. {Anon.)
ChrisVi wonder : — The unbelief of the Nazarenes was a wonder to our Lord. The
wonder was '• real," says Cardinal Cajetan, being •• caused " by the Saviour's
** experimental inacquaintance " with such an unreasonable state of mind. It was
*• real " on another account. Unbelief in such circumstances as those of the
Nazarenes was actually a most remarkable thing. It had a cause indeed ; it had
occasions; but it had no reason for its existence. Far less had it a sufficient
reason ; it was, that is to say, utterly unreasonable. It should not have been ; it
was an utter anomaly. So is all sin i$ee Jer. ii. 12). It is an exceedingly strange
phenomenon in the universe of God, and may well be wondered at. If wonder
indeed were always the daughter of ignorance, one might wonder at Christ's wonder.
Schleusner and KuinSl wondered, and rendered the word, not wondered, but was
angry, Fritzsche, too, wondered, and while too precise a scholar to admit that the
word could mean was angry ^ he proposed that we should correct the text and read
it thus, and, because of their unbelief, they wondered (viz., at Jesus). But one inay
most reasonably wonder at such feats and freaks of exegesis. There is nothing
▼I.] ST. MARK. 231
really wonderfnl in Christ's wonder. While it is the case that there is a vnlgar
wonder, which is the daughter of ignorance and dies when knowledge is attained,it
is also the case that there is another wondler, of noble origin, the daughter jf
knowledge. This wonder dwells in the loftiest minds, and is immortal. {J.
Morison, D.D.) The astonithment of Christ: — What men marvel at indicates
their character. It shows what manner of spirit they are of, on what level they
are moving, how high they have risen, or how low they have snnk on the scale of
being. And I do not know that we ever feel the immense interval between our-
aelves and the Son of Man more keenly than when we compare that which
astonishes ns with that which astonished Him. To ns, as a rule, the word miracles
denotes more physical wonders ; and these are so wonderful to us as to be well-
nigh incredible. But in Him they awake no astonishment. He never speaks of
them with the faintest accent of surprise. He set so little store by them that He
often seemed reluctant to work them, and openly expressed His wish that those on
or for whom they had been wrought would tell no man of them. . . . What does
astonish ELim is not these outward wonders so surprising to ns, but that inward
wonder, the mystery of man's soul, the miraculous power which we often exercise
without a thought of surprise, the power of shutting and opening that door or
window of the soul which looks heavenward, and through which alone the glories
of the spiritual world can stream in upon us. Only twice are we told that He
marvelled to whom all the secrets of Nature and Life lay open — once at the unbelief
of men, and once at their faith (Matt. viii. 10; Luke vii. 9). {S. Cox, D.D.)
The possibility of unbelief: — God's plan of impressing spiritual truths is not by
demonstration. Christianity has no irresistible proof. U it had, there would be
neither unbelievers nor Christians, for in such a case there would be no such thing
as faith, but only knowledge, and a Christian is a man who has knowledge but who
also lives by faith. Beligion would be pursued and practised as mathematics are,
or as science is when mathematics are applied to it. But observe under what
system we should then be placed. Man wotdd not be capable of moral freedom in
conducting his life and forming his character. He would think of God and of his
soul and its interests in the way in which a man builds np the propositions of
geometry ; his convictions would be the theorems, and his actions the problems
which were fastened to one another by iron links. Man would be a creature of
mind, but where would there be room for his heart and its loving surrender to God,
for his will and its resolve to listen to the Divine voice and obey it ? These can
only exist where man has power to give himself away, i.«., where he has moral
freedom. And if we take away freedom and love and will in man's relation to God,
there would be no meaning in them as between man and man. II we destroy the
source there can be no streams, and sympathy and love and gratitude, the feelings
which unite men in famihes and friendships, cease to exist ; these have their life,
not in necessary chains of reasoning, but in the free exchange of the souL In such
a world God might be a supreme architect and mechanician, building up a universe
by fixed physical laws ; He might even be an author of scientific, thought leading
forth intellects into higher and wider investigations in the track of His own
creations ; but He could not be a Father and Friend, drawing to Him the love of
children for the glimpses they have of the supreme beauty of BIb purity, and the
pulsations that come throbbing from the love of His heart. The universe might be
a temple, but where would be the worshippers with songs of love and joy and self-
devotion f . , , Qod could not make spiritual truths subject to the laws of mental
demonstration, without making them no more spiritual — without depriving man of
his freedom, and leaving him no room for his heart and conscience and spirit. ^ If
there are to be ties of sympathy between man and God, and an inunortahty which
has in its bosom an eternal life, man must be dealt with as capable, not only oi
knowledge, but of the choice of loTe. God has made man capable of faith, but
therefore also of unbelief ; the kind of proof He gives him may persuade, but will
not constrain. God does not force His own existence upon men. (John Ker, D.D.)
The character of unoelitf : — We begin, then — I. With speculative ukbelief ;
that unbelief which shapes itself into a creed, denying either the being of a God or
the inspiration of the Bible. And we say it is a marvel, whether regarded as a
matter of taste or of judgment, as t* matter of taste, or preference, or choice. We
are astonished that any man should be willing to disbelieve these great facts.
Take atheism. Even if there be no God, still we should suppose that any intelli
gent being would wish there were one. The simple idea of living in a world, sus-
tained and managed by no almighty and benevolent intelligence, and which the
232 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [CHl». fi.
next honr some tremendous brute and blind force might shatter and Bend back to
the old primordial chaos, this very thought is so dreadful that our very instinctf
recoil from it. Even if atheism were a logical belief, we should expect every man
to argue against it — that men of philosophy and science would go abroad through
creation, climbing every mountain, traversing every desert, sounding every ocean,
descending into all the spectral caverns of geology, ascending aU the sublime
heights of astronomy, questioning all phenomena, or forces, or forms of nature, in
the intensest agony of a desire to find evidences for a God, crying in the words and
accents of a child searching for an absent father, ** O tell me, tell me I have yon
not seen Him ? have you not heard Him ? In all these broad realms is there no
print of His footsteps ? no trace of His handiwork ? Am I, indeed, a poor, wretched,
forlorn orphan ? O tell me, tell me 1 is there not a God ? " Now, I repeat it, all
this is simply marvellous. It is marvellous that a man should choose rather to be
a creature of chance than child of Jehovah ; and more marvellous that he should
take testimony rather of pulsating spa^n than of soaring seraphim, and choose
rather to follow a reptile's trail in the mire to God's awful grave, than mount
j^xultingly in the glorious track of an archangel to God's everlasting throne,
II. That practicaIj unbelief which consists in a personal rejection of the gospel of
Christ, as manifest in the man who, believing in God, and accepting the Bible as
His inspired Word, yet goes on, from day to day, putting his eternity away from
him as carelessly — yea, as resolutely as ii he stood boldly forth with the infidel,
professing to believe that God is but a phantom, and the Bible a lie. We say the
attitude of this man is even more wonderful than the other. We are less astonished
at an intellectual mistake than at a great practical blunder. We are not so pro-
foundly shocked when a blind man walks off a precipice as when a man does the
thing when possessed of all his senses, and wiUi his eyes wide open. To believe
that in this world of probation we are positively working out our own salvation,
absolutely settling the question whether we are to be saved or whether we are to be
lost ; that there is a heaven of inconceivable and everlasting happiness and glory,
and yet turn madly away when its gates are lifted up to our immortal footsteps —
is to make exhibition of a folly immeasurable, and all the angels of heaven must
stand astonished at the spectacle, and the omniscient Son of God " marvels at our
unbelief." {G. Wadsworth, D.D.) Jesus wondering at man's unbelief : — I. Who
marvelled 7 The Son of God. He did not marvel amiss. II. At whom did He
marvel ? At the men of Galilee. He had been brought up among them. III. At
WHAT did He marvel ? Why, at their unbelief. 1. Because it was so unreasonable.
He had done everything to prevent it. 2. It was so unkind. He had yearned over
them. 3. It was so sinful. 4. It was so unprofitable. 5. It was so dangerous.
6. It was so wilful. 1. Sinner, Jesus marvels at your unbelief. 2. Anxious soul,
Jesus marvels at your unbelief. 3. Backslider, Jesus marvels at your unbelief.
4. Believer, Jesus marvels at your unbelief. {H, Bonar, D.D.) The sad wonder: — L
To THB PEOPiiK OF GoD. 1. The wonderful forms of unbelief that are found among
the professed people of God. (a) At times they doubt the wisdom of providence.
(&) Mistrust of the Divine faithfulness, (c) The efficacy of prayer is doubted.
{d) The power of the gospel of Jesus Christ. («) The efficacy of the precious blood
of Christ. 2. Why they are so wonderful, (a) Because of believers' relationship
to the Father and the Lord Jesus, (b) Because faith is backed up by such won-
derful historical facts, (c) The personal experience of the present, (d) It is
wonderful when we consider our own beliefs. II. To thb unconvbbtbd. 1. You
have no saving trust in the person and work of Jesus Christ. 2. Some are afraid
theirs is an exceptional case. 3. Such unbelief is marvellous because — (a) The
causae is inexcusable, {b) With some of you it is little more than a mere whim.
(f ) It causes you so much grief, {d) It has existed so long. (C. H. Spurgeon.)
Marvdlous uiibelief : — Unbelief, as regards Jesus Christ, is surprising because of —
I. Man's proneness to bxercisb faith. II. The numbeb and power of the
EVIDENCES WHICH ENcouRAOB FAITH IN HiH. The people whoso Unbelief amazed
Jesus had many and weighty reasons for faith. 1. His holy life. 2. His wise
teaching (ver. 2 ; Luke iv. 22). 3. His mighty works (ver. 2). 4. The agreement
of these tilings with the Messianic predictions (Luke iv. 18-21). III. The dbbad
coNSEQUKNCKS OF SUCH UNBELIEF. By unbehcf man — 1. Foregoes the most pre-
cious blessings. 3. Incurs the most terrible condemnation (John iii. 16-19, viii.
24). {W. Jones.) Unbelief: — I. Unbelief bestrains Christ. His beneficence
was restrained by the lack of faith. While Jesus never defined faith. He did not
demand great faith before He blessed men, but responded to the weakest. But the
OUP. ▼!.] 8T, MARK, 233
Absence of faith restrained Him. The reason of this. Sceptics sometimes object
that Christ's miracles were a matter of 'aith. . . . There was no real care. . . .
They use the word faith as if synonymous with imagination, excitement, &o. But
ft lame man cannot possibly imagine himself able to walk, &o. It is not the faith of a
frenzied, heated imagination, bat the faith that gave ap to Christ to do as He
pleased, &<x. This was essential. Is often illustrated in common life. Ton cannot
know the skill of your physician until you trust him. You cannot know the full
benefit of friendship until you trust your friend. A regiment cannot prove the
military skill and courage of their captain until they trust him. II. Unbelief
A8T0NI8HB8 Christ. He has shown His power in manifold ways. He has promised
His grace and strength, and He is astonished that we still refuse to trust Him. The
argument for trusting Christ gathers strength every day. The reproach of unbelief
gathers strength every day, (Colmer B. Symes^ B.A.) Unbelief : — I. The evil
OF UNBELIEF. 1. Unbelief undervalues all the perfections of Deity. 2. Unbelief
insults all the persons of the Godhead. 3. Unbelief renders the all-important
work of salvation impossible. II. The causes ov unbelief. 1. There is the
natural depravity of the heart (Heb. iii. 12). 2. There is ignorance, or blindness, of
mind. 3. There is love of sin. 4. There is satanio influence (2 Cor. iv. 14). 5.
There is the pride of human nature. III. The effects of unbelief. 1. It keeps
as in a state of condemnation before God. 2. It renders nseless all the provisions
of the gospel. 3. It is a sin for which there can be no remedy. 4. It is a sin pe-
culiar to those favoured with the light of the gospel. 6. A sin which, if not
abandoned, must consign to eternal remediless perdition. 1, Your responsibility.
God calls upon you to believe. 2. However feeble faith is, if exercised, it shall be
increased. 3. Let it be exercised now. *' The word is nigh thee," &c. (Bom. x.
8-17). (J, Bums, LL.D.) The sin of unbelief: — There are three general forms of
fmbelief. 1. That of scepticism, either doubting or rejecting the truths of religion
and morals in general, or the Divine origin and authority of the Bible in particular.
3. Want of faith and confidence in God, in His promises and providence, which
may and often does co-exist with a speculative belief of the Scriptures. 3. The
rejection or failure to receive the Lord Jesus Christ as He is revealed and offered in
the Bible. These several forms of nnbelief, although they have their common
source in an evil heart, have, nevertheless, their specific causes and their peculiar
form of gnilt. I. Scepticism. This arises— 1. From pride of intellect ; assuming
to know what is beyond our reach, and refusing to receive what we cannot under-
stand ; setting oorselves up as capable of discerning and proving all truth. 2.
From the neglect of our moral nature and giving up ourselves to the guidance of
the speculative reason. 3. From the enmity of the heart to the things of God ; or
opposition in our tastes, feelings, desires, and purposes, to the truths and require-
ments of the things of religion. 4. From frivolous vanity, or th^ desire to be
thought independent, or upon a par with the illuminate. The sinfulness of this
form of nnbelief is manifest. (1) As pride, self-exaltation is sinful and offensive
in such a feeble insignificant creature as man. (2) As the habitude of the moral
nature which makes it possible to believe a lie, is evidence of moral degradation.
(3) As opposition to the truth is opposition to tiie God of truth, it is alienation
from Him, in which all sin consists. Hence nnbelief is the generic form of sin. It
is the general expression of aberration, and the opposition of our nature to His.
It is, therefore, the source of all other sins. II. Unbxuef, ob want of confidence
Of THE DOCTBIMES, THB PBOMXSBS, AMD PB0VIDEM0B8 OF GOD. This may exist iu
even the hearts of believers. It is a matter of degree. It arises either — 1. From
the entire absence, or from the low state, of religious life. 2. Or from the habit of
looking at ourselves, and on difficulties about us rather than at God. 3. Or from
refusing to believe what we do not see. If God does not manifest EKs care, does
Dot at once fulfil His promise, then our faith fails. The sinfulness of this state of
mind is apparent. 1. Becau<^e it evinces a low state of Divine life. 2. Because it
dishonours God, refusing to Him the confidence due to an earthly friend and parent,
which is a very heinous offence, considering His greatness and goodness, and the
evidences which He has given of His fidelity and trustworthiness. 3. Because it is
a manifestation of the same spirit which dominates in the open infidel. It is un-
belief in a form which it assumes in a mind in which it has not absolute control.
But it is in all its manifestations hateful to God. III. Unbelief im befkrescb to
Cbbist. This is a refusing to recognize and receive Him as being what He claims
to be. 1. As God manifest in the flesh. 2. As the messenger and teacher sent
firoim God. 8. As our atoning sacrifice and priest. 4. As having rightfully absolate
234 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap, ju
proprietorship in ns and authority over us. This is the greatest of sins. It is the
condemning sin. Its heiuousuess consists — 1. In its opposition to the clearest
iight. He who cannot see the sun must be stone blind. 2. It is the rejection ol
the clearest external evidence which evinces the opposition of the heart. 3. It if
the rejection of infinite love, and the disregard of the greatest obligation. 4. It ii
the deliberate preference of the kingdom of Satan before that of Christ— of Belial to
Christ. (C. Hodge, D,D,)
Vers. 7-13.— And He called onto Him theTwelye, and began to send them fortik
by two and two. — The first mission of the twelve : — Christ sends them forth. L
Obdebly. 1. As to the persous evangelized. To the Jew first. To have dia.
regarded that, would have excited most bitterly the jealousy of His countrymen, as
well as committed the apostles to a work for which they were by no means pre-
pared, because their national antipathies were not yet eradicated. 2. As to the
persons engaged in the work of evangelization. Two and two : companionship —
a most desirable arrangement. How important then was this pairing off, enabling
them to hold sweet converse together, and strengthen and correct one another when
necessary. II. The mission was m a sense selt-suppobting. They were to go
forth in simple dependence upon their Master, and He would put it into men's
hearts to supply their wants. The work on which they were now sent demanded
the total surrender of all their energy and will for Christ's cause. IH. It wab
FBAUGHT WITH 8EBI0US coNSEQUKNCES. Those to whom they addressed the gospel
message would reject it at their own peril ; and the guilt of impenitence would be
proportioned to the force with which the truth was revealed. {H. M. Luckock, D.D.)
The mission of the Twelve : — L Considbb by what this mission was pbecedbd.
1. By a return to Nazareth where His life was once threatened, (a) This shows
Christ's readiness to forgive and to do good to His enemies. 2. By graciously seek-
ing to win back His fellow townsmen. 3. By another scornful rejection of Himself
and His message. II. The occasion and pubpose of this mission. 1. The ooea-
sion {see Matt. ix. 36-38). 2. The purpose, (a) To preach. (6) To heal the sick,
(c) To cleanse the lepers, (d) To raise the dead. IH. The conditions undkb
which they weee to go forth. 1. They must go forth without taking anything
for their journey. 2. If rejected in one city, they must proceed to the next. " They
might flee from danger, but not from duty " (Matt. Henry). 3. They must refrain
from all resentments and retaliations. 4. The full assurance of their Lord'f
assistance in every trouble. (D. C. Hughes^ M.A.) Apostolic labours and their
reception : — I. Christ's ministers receive from Him power for their appointed work,
n. When called to high service, they need not care for common wants. HI. The
rejection of the greatest good leads to the greatest ill. (J. H. Godwin.) Prepara-
tions for preaching : — Mark significantly says, "Then Jesus began to send them
forth : '* for ever since that day He has been givmg similar work, and qualifving
similar representatives. I. To go forth from the presence of Jesus. II. To be
willing to work together. III. To be content with the use of moral influence.
Men are to be urged, not forced. IV. To exercise self-denial and cheerful trust in
God. {A. Rowland, LL.B.) The apostolic commission .—The grandest com-
mission ever entrusted to man. Consider — I. Its imposed conditions. 1. In
company : " by two and two." Thus for mutual encouragement and help. Foi
the heart of the strongest may fail in presence of danger, difliculty, death,
2. In poverty. Thus was it shown that their power and influence with men was
not of earth. 3. In danger. Those whom they went to bless would turn against
and persecute them. 3. Yet in safety. God watching over and protecting them
And even if the body is slain, the soul will be safe, and the confessor of Christ
will be owned by Him before the Father. 11. Its tbust ; or, the terms of the
commission. How grand, how honourable, how precious to the world— the world ol
ignorant, suffering, sinful men 1 The great mission has for its objecii; the removal
of the evils of human life. Its foulness, its suffering, its error, its subjugation to
evil, are all to be combated. III. Its limitation. Only to the Jews, at present*
The children must first be filled. IV. Its success. {R. Oreen.) Missionaries : —
I. Missionaries must not be, as a rule, solitary men. For counsel, defence, cheer-
fulness, " two are better than one " U. Missionaries must be, as a rule, frugal
men. No luxuries; bare necessaries. Like the soldier on the march, or the
exploring traveller. lU. Missionaries must not be, as a rule, sedentary men. Sound
the trumpet blast, and thei* on again. IV. Missionaries must, as a rule, aet
directly aponn the conscience of men. The missionary's work is to break up the
Ti.] ST. MARK. 255
fallow ground. {E. Johnson, M.A.) Companionship : — The solitary soul on a
new enterprise is apt to lose heart, and not half perform his part. With no coun-
sellor, sympathizer, helper, he goes uncertainly. Jesus would give His ambassadors
all advantage of fraternal support, that in this " apprenticeship," as one terms it,
they might not falter. The confirming word, too, is of might when the message
is novel. The apostles afterward went thus in pairs. St. Paul's strongest expres-
sion of regret was that, on any part of his journey, he must be left alone. Living-
stone, in the depths of the African continent, longed for the society and cheer of
her who laid down her life on the way thither ; and, as the end drew near, he
leaned harder on the Lord, for no hand but God's could smooth the troubled brow
on which the death-damps gathered, as the noble man, kneeling at his bedside in
prayer, bade farewell to earth. {De W. S. Clark.) Incumbrances to be aban-
doned : — Armies most amply furnished with stores and comforts are most inefficient,
The Zulu hordes, with but spear and shield, held long at bay the well-provisioned
and disciphned troops of England. Baggage is well termed " impedimenta." It
checks, by just so much, the quickness, and fosters, by hardness. The soul heavily
freighted with the luxuries and appliances of this life is at a disadvantage for
the sudden movements and missions on which the great Captain would send it.
(Ibid.) **No money: •' — ^Literally, no copper, for that is the metal that is got from
the bowels of the earth. Brass is an artificial alloy, having in it a mixture of tin
with the copper, and was unknown, as is supposed, to the Hebrews. The word is
not used by the evangeUst to denote any particular copper coin, but simply, though
representatively, copper money in general. The underlying idea is money in
general. Not even coppers would be needed, not to speak of silver and gold.
{J. Morison^ D.D.) Mutual help : — Why did Jesus send the apostles forth " by
two and two ? " The answer is, in order that they might be helpmeets for each
other. A father was walking one day in the fields with his two children. The
wind was blowing over a fine field of ripe corn, and making the beautiful golden ears
wave like the waves of the sea. •• Is it not sui-prising," said one of the children,
" that the wind does not break the slender stalks of the corn f " " My child," said
the father, ** see how flexible the stalks are I They bend before the wind and rise
again when the wind has passed over them. See, too, how tlaey help to sup-
port each other. A single stalk would be soon bent to the ground, but so many
growing close together help to keep each other up. If we keep together when the
troubles of life oome upon us like a stormy wind, we shall keep each other up, when
one trying to stand alone would falL**
Vers. 14-29. And kln^ Herod beard of Him; (for Els name was spread
abroad:) and lie said. That John the Baptist was risen from the dead. — The
sovereign power of conscience : — I. Now we are to begin with simply considering
Herod as acted on by conscibncb : for it is evident that nothing but the workings
of a mind ill at ease would have led him to conjecture that Jesus was the Baptist
Conscience was continually plying Herod with the truth, that a record had been
made of his crime by a Being who would not suffer it to pass unavenged, but who,
sooner or later, would let loose His judgments. In Uie midst of his revelry, in the
midst of his pomp, there was a boding form flitting to and fro, and no menace
could compel it to depart, and no enchantment wile it from the scene. It came in
the silence of the midnight, and it came in the bustle of the noon ; it mingled with
the crowd in the city, and it penetrated the solitude of the chamber. And thus
was Herod a witness to himself that this world is under the rule of a supreme
moral Governor. And there is this peculiarity in the evidence of conscience, that
it is independent of observation, it is independent on deduction : it asks no investi-
gation, it appeals to no logic. A man may take great pains to stifle conscience, so
that its voice may be drowned in the storm and in the mutiny of his pas-
sions ; but this is after its testimony has been given. He could do nothing to
prevent the testimony being given. He must receive the testimony, for it is
given at once m the chambers of his soul, unlike every other which has to knock at
the door, and to which if he will the man may refuse audience. Herod might have
met argument, proof by proof, had it depended upon the result of a controversy
whether he was to admit the existence of a Being who takes cognizance of actions,
and that too for the very purpose of awarding them their just retribution ; but he
•ould do nothing with reference to conscience. Conscience left no place for
subtleties: conscience allowed no room for evasions. Conscience was ju'igment
already begun ; and what had the most ingenious debater to say against that?
236 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. fl.
And if there be one of you in this crowded gathering, who is pursued bj the remem-
brance of his sin, and cannot free himself from dread of its punishment, he is
precisely such a witness as was Herod to the retributive government beneath which
the world lies. He may be a deist ; it matters not ; he wants no external revelation
to certify him that there is a God who will take vengeance : the revelation is within
him, and he cannot disguise it if he would. He may be an atheist — or rather let
me say he may call himself an atheist ; he may tell me that he sees no foot-printa
of the Deity in the magnificent spreadings of creation, he may tell me that he hears
no voice of the Deity, either in the melodies or the tempests of nature : it matters
not ; the foot-prints are in his own soul, the voice rings in his own breast. A being
with a conscience is a being with sufficient witness of a God. II. To consider him
as DRIVEN IN HIS DISTRESS TO ACENOWLEDOE A TRUTH WHICH HE HAD BAMISHB]>
FROM HIS CREED. Conscience is not to be stifled with bad logic. III. There is yet
one more point of view, under which we propose to regard Herod ; he had what
anOHT HAVE passed as a SPECIOUS APOLOGY FOB HIL, CONDUCT, BUT NEVEBTHELES8
HE WAS UNABLE (iT APPEARS) TO QUIET HIS ANXIETIES. No doubt Hcrod pleaded
the oath in excuse for the murder, and endeavoured to extenuate his crime to him-
self by representing it as forced upon him by a combination of circumstances.
Our wits are never so sharp, as when our vices are to be excused. But learn ye
from the instance of Herod, that all the wretched sophistry, in whose meshes ye
thus entangle conscience, will break away, as a thread of tow when it touches the
fire, as soon as ye shall find yourselves within the view of death and judgment.
God allows no apology for sin ; He can forgive it, He can forget it, He can blot it
out as a clond, and boiy it in the depths of the sea, but He will take no excuse for it.
IH. Melvillt B.D.) John and Herod : — There are some men who would rather
be without a head than without a conscience ; John was one of this kind. I. A belt-
BETELATioM. The text with a single stroke lays open before us the mind of Herod.
Deeper than mere speculation, below all the apathy of worldliness, there exists in
man some conviction of spiritual reality and of moral obligation. The awe of
Christ's ' marvellous works awoke the solemnities of even that debased nature.
Deep called unto deep. The vibration of miraculous power brought up the secret
shapes of conscience, as it is said the vibration of cannon will bring drowned men
to the surface of the water. Now, this spiritual substance, in which man difCera
widely from all other creatures, and in which all men are most alike, is both a point
of recovery and a ground of condemnation. I say, in the first place, this is a point
of recovery. In the worst man — though his nature, like Herod's, be enslaved to pas-
sion, though his hand, like Herod's, be stained with blood, — there is this profound
relation to spiritual things. In some way they are acknowledged. And, however vile
the man may be, it is a sign of hope and a point of recovery. But this spiritual
consciousness is also a ground of condemnation. Kesponsibilities are in proportion to
capabilities. In the reckoning for talents used, we rate as a decisive element the
amount of talents possessed. The depth of a man's fall must be measured by the
dignity of his original position. Let no man delude himself, by any manner of sophis-
try, with the notion that the evil of his guilt ends with the guilty act, or that the
wrong which he has done lies buried in his memory as in a grave. It may lie as in a
grave ; but there will be trumpet-blasts of resurrection, when conscience calls, and
memory gives up its dead. *' Confessions of faith," so called, may be sincere, or
they may be heartless and formal. Tet the most genuine confessions of faith are
not expressed in any creed or catechism, but in utterances of the moment, that
come right oat of the heart. So Herod made his confession of faith. So might
any man be startled by his own self-revelation. II. But the text also suggests a
point of ooNTBAST. The contrast is between Herod, and John whom he beheaded.
Here are two different types of men, — a type of worldliness, and a type of moral
heroism. Two different types of men ; and yet let it not be considered a mere play
upon words, when I say not two types of different men. Beneath all external and
all moral contrasts lay the same essential humanity. The self- willed and voluptuous
king was forced to acknowledge the same spiritual realities as those in reference to
which John so steadfastly acted. But starting from this common root, see how
anlike these two men were in the branching of their lives. Herod illustrates the
■enioality of the world, the imperious domination of appetite and passion. He
treated the world as a mere garden for the senses. But there appears in Herod
M&other phase of worldliness, — the phase of policy. I do not mean wise policy, but
poliqr divorced from principle. Herod had no honest independence : he vacillated
with the wind. Now, I suppose there are a great many sach men in our day, — men
TX.] ST. MAUK, 237
who, on the vhole, are disposed to honour truth, to eulogize it, even to put it fore-
most, if just as well for tbemselves. But they would imprison it, behead it, and
send the desecrated head around in a charger, if they oould gain votes or get pleasure
by doing so. Moreover, Herod was obedient to a false code of honour. *' For his
oath's sake, and for the sake of them that eat with him," he commanded that John
should be beheaded. All men, however faithful and earnest tbey may be, are not
oast in the mould of John the Baptist, or tempered to such a quaUty. But such a
soul crying out in the world does the world good. It is refreshing to see the moral
heroism of John set sharp against the worldliness of Herod. But, in closing, let us
consider the fruit and consummation of these two lives thus brought in contrast.
The world's power triumphant. 0 sad type of many a defeat of many a fallen
cause I Such, then, is the upshot of these two lives, — Herod victorious in his
wickedness ; John in his moral loyalty defeated and slain. But we do not, we can-
not, say this. We form a different estimate than this of John and Herod. Even
in the conditions of this world and of time, we hear the tetrarch crying oat,
" It is John, whom I beheaded : he is risen from the dead 1 " We see hiin
driven into exile, and dying an inglorious death. We see, too, the Baptist,
in the processes of his truth, going abroad throughout the earth in *' the spirit and
power of Elias." So, in other instances, we are to judge not by the transient event,
or the aspect of the hour, but by the prevailing influence, the product that abides.
Truth conquers in the long run, and right vindicates itself against the wrong, as
"John risen from the dead." {E. H. CJiapin.) On the character of Hercd
Antipas : — I. Contemplate in the conduct of hebod and of his queen the
NATUBAL PBOOBESB OF DEPBAVITT. LOOE PBIMABILY TO HEBODIAS. II. LeT MB ADD
SOME OBSERVATIONS, APPLICABLE TO YOUB OWN CONDUCT, WHICH ARE SUGGESTED BY
THE HISTORY BEFORE US. 1. In the first place, aUow not yourself to be entrapped
into sin by the solicitations and importunities of others, not even of your friends and
your nearest relations, should you be unhappy enough to perceive tempters among
them. 2. That one sin naturally leads to another : that, if you indulge in smaU
offences, you will be carried headlong into greater. You have drawn up the flood-
gates : and who shall pronounce where the torrent shall be stayed? How frequently
doth a similar progress occur. In the humbler ranks of life you see a man begin-
ning to be idle, and to neglect his business. This evil habit grows upon him. His
time soon hangs heavily upon his hands : and he fills it up at the public house ; at
first going thither sparingly, but ere long to be found there almost every day.
Now drunkenness is added to idleness. These two sins speedily make him poor :
and he resorts to dishonest means of gaining money : till justice overtakes him, and
he finishes his days in exile or on the gallows. The criminal of high life, in tiie
meantime, pursues a kindred career, but in a wider and a more splendid circle. He
commences with fashionable extravagance. He grows hardened through the deceit-
fulness of sin. Make your stand through Divine grace against the beginnings of
sin : for you know not what will be the end thereof. 3. Contemplate the incon-
sistency, the weakness and the corruption of human nature. Herod withstood for
a season the arts and impoi-tunities of Herodias. She waited until she found a
convenient time ; renewed the attempt and succeeded. The great enemy of man
is ever on the watch to betray you. He is waiting for the hour when you shall no
longer be on your guard ; or when you shall have grieved by a recent offence the
Spirit of God ; or when a concurrence of ensnaring circumstances shall heighten
the allurements of sin. The birthday of Herod shall arrive. Thy heart shall be
opened to enticement. The year shall not revolve without bringing the convenient
time. Mirth shall render thee thoughtless : or sorrow shall bow thee to despondence.
Pride shall inflate thee with confidence : or sloth shall indispose thee to exertion.
Then shah the temptation present itself afresh : perhaps in its original garb ; or,
if need be, in colours more attractive. 4. That nothing short of a settled determi-
nation to labour to avoid all sin, joined with constant apphcation to God, through
Christ, for the influence of His sanctifying Spirit, can authorize you to hope that
you will preserve for a single hour a conscience void of offence. (T. Gisbomf
M.A.) Herod's conjeeturet : — The young woman retires to consult her mother. It
her absence behold Herod amusing himself with conjectures concerning the nature
of the recompense which she will prefer. " Will she demand a jewelled robe ? A
sumptuous palace f The revenues of a city? The government of a province?"
He knows not what is passing in the mind of Herodias. He knows not that vanity and
pride and avarice and ambition have retired, and have relinquished the whole heart
to revenge. His speculations are interrupted by the entrance of her daughter. Mirth
238 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chaf. ti.
and curiosity sparkle in her eyes. She advances straightway with haste. All is
siilent. She requires the head of John the Baptist. {Ibid.) John Baptist and
Herod: — I. The best people often exterienck ▲ hard pate. No garland of
roses for the foUowers of Him Who wore the crown of thorns. Do not suppose from
this that God is indifferent to goodness. He is with His people when they are in
affliction, even more than at other times. The loss of material comfort is made
up to them by a richer spiritual gain. 11. Bad men have oood feelings and
PURPOSES. The spiritual nature may be repressed and brought into bondage by sin,
but it cannot be destroyed. Conscience and memory make themselves felt III.
An irresolute mind in respect to good is the cause oy great mischief,
Herod was but the tool of Herodias. Although he did not originate the murder of
John, he executed it. Without him it might not be done. IV. The danger of
dalliance with sin. Herod gladly listened to John, but would not obey him.
Had he heeded the faithful prophet and put away Herodias, he might never have
had the sin of murder to answer for. No safety in partial courses. We must not
only hear, but heed the warning voice. V. The haunting alarms op guilt. A
Sadducee conjuring ap a ghost — what a contradiction 1 No safeguard can protect
a wicked man from the most absurd, but to him terrible, alarms. They spring up
to poison his enjoyment in unexpected hours. Never again would Herod enjoy " a
happy birthday." There is no misery more exquisite than that proceeding from an
evil conscience. Think of it when proceeding to sin. This sin does not sink into
oblivion, and nothing come of it. Committed, it becomes a pursuing vengeance.
It assumes a dreadful voice and takes to itself feet, and, like a blood-hound, follows
the evil-doer, baying frightfully on his track. {A. H. Currier.) ResultB of
Herod's sin .'—The issues of the act are not all seen immediately. But it is worth
noting them. 1. There is the terror that seizes him. Haunted with feeling that
he is not done with the prophet yet. 2. He gains nothing by the murder, for no
sooner is John slain than Jesus rises ominously on his horizon. 3. He seals in
death the only lips that could teach him the way of meroy. 4. All his improve-
ment at once evaporates, and he Uves to mock the Saviour (Luke xxih. 11). 6.
The woman whom he gratified at such a cost became his ruin. Her ambition moved
her to long for a higher title for Herod than that of tetrarch. Against his own judg-
ment Herod permitted himself to be overborne, and going to Rome to ask for
higher honour he found himself accused before Caligula. They were banished to
Gaul, and died in obscurity and dishonour. {R. Glover.) Herod — a startled
conscience : — I. Tou have here the voice of a startled conscience. We all of
us do evil things that it is not hard for us to seem to forget, and with regard to
which it is not hard for us to bribe or silence memory and conscience. The hurry
and bustle of daily life, the very weakness of our characters, the rush of sensuous
delights, may make us bUnd and deaf to the voice of conscience ; and we think aU
chance of the evil deed rising again to harm us is past. But some trifle touches the
hidden spring by mere accident ; as in the old story of the man groping along a wall,
till his finger happened to fall upon one inch of it, and immediately the hidden door
flies open, and there is the skeleton. An apparently trivial circumstance, like some
hooked pole pushed at random into the sea, may bring up by the locks some pale and
drowned memory long plunged in an ocean of oblivion. II. Hebe is an example
OF A conscience AWAKENED TO THE UNSEEN WORLD. Theoretical disbelief in a
future life and spiritual existence is closely allied to superstition. So strong is the
bond that unites men with the unseen world, that, if they do not link themselves
with that world in the legitimate and true fashion, it is almost certain to avenge
itself upon them by leading them to all manner of low and abject superstitions.
Spiritualism is the disease of a generation that does not beUeve in another life.
Hi. An illustration of a conscience which, partially stirred, soon went
FINALLY TO SLEEP AGAIN. Do not tamper with a partially awakened conscience;
do not rest untU it is quieted in the legitimate way. It is possible so to lull the
conscience into indifference, that appeals, threatenings, pleadings, mercies, the
words of men and the gospel of God, may all run off as from a waterproof, leaving
it dry and hard. The convictions of conscience which you have not followed out,
like the ruins of a bastion shattered by shell, protect your remaining fortifications
against the impact of God's truth. {A. Maclaren, D.D.) Conscience removes
illusions : — When the evil deed was done, Herod scarcely felt uait he did it. There
was his plighted oath, there was Herodias' pressure, there was the excitement of
the moment. He seemed forced to do it, and scarcely responsible for doing it
And no doubt, if he ever thought about it after, he shuffled off a large percentage oi
CHAP. viO 8T. MARK. 239
the responsibility of the guilt upon the shoulders of the others. Bat when, ** in
the silent sessions of things past," the image and remembrance of the deed comes
up to him, all the helpers and tempters have disappeared, and *' it is John whom I
beheaded." There is an emphasis in the Greek upon the "I"; "whom I be-
headed." «*Herodiaa tempted me! Herodias' daughter titillated my lust; I
fancied that my oath bound me ; I oonld not help doing what would please those
who sat at the table. I said all that before I did it. But now, wh^n it is done,
they have all disappeared, every one of them to his quarter ; and I and the ugly
thing are left there together alone. It was I who did it, and nobody besides." And
the blackness of the crime presents itself to the startled conscience as it did not in
the doing. There are many euphemisms and soft words in which, as in cotton wool,
we wrap our evil deeds, and so deceive ourselves as to their hardness and their edge ;
but when conscience gets hold of them, and they pass out of the realm of fact into
the mystical region of remembrance, all the wrap pages and all the apologies and all
the soft phrases drop away ; and the ugliest, briefest, plainest word is the one by
which my conscience describes my own evil. I beheaded him ! I, and none else,
was the murderer. (Ibid.) The storehouse of memory : — Take care of the store-
houses of memory and of conscience, and mind what kind of things you lay up
there. (Ibid.) Comeience : — I. Thb facts of conscienck. 1. We have a dis-
eemment of the difference between right and wrong. 2. We approve of the one
and we disapprove of the other, as of good and bad laws. 3. We condemn our-
selves for what conscience disapproves in our states and acts. 4. We are impelled
by conscience to do what is right, and deterred by it from what is wrong. U. Of
THIS MYSTBBious POWBB THB OBVIOUS cHABAOTEBisTics ABB — 1. That it is inde-
pendent of the understanding and will. 3. It is authoritative. 3. It does not
speak in its own name. The authority which it exercises is not its own. 4. It is
avenging. Bemorse is a state produced by conscience. III. Oob duty in beoabd to
coNsoiKNOB. 1, To enlighten it. 2. To obey it. 3. Not only to obey it in particular
cases, but to have a fixed and governing purpose to permit it to rule. The ground
of this obligation to obey conscience is — 1. The authority of God in whose name it
speaks. 2. Bespect for our own dignity as rational and moral beings. [0, Hodge,
D.D.) The cause and manner of the Baptist's death : — ^L An exavplb of thb
XiBNOTH TO WHICH UNGODLY XBN WILL 00 IN THB WAT OF BELIOION. Herod feared
and honoured John. He heard him preach — gladly. Let no one be too hasty in
ooneluding that he is religious. U. An bxamflb of ministerial FAirHFULMEss.
III. An illustbation of the obbtainty and thb bbason of PEBSECirilioN. The
certainty — the reproof. The reason — pride, interest, conscience. The favour of
worldly men worthless. IV. Wb have exemplified thb twofold aspect of the
wobld— to its own, to the Church. The festival for the one — the dungeon for the
other. The world in miniature. V. A samplb of thb world's hiohest pleasures.
Masked pride, vanity, envy. Masked misery. VL An instance of an abandoned
pabbnt SACBiFiciNa HEB CHILD. YII. An instance of MmoLED htpocriby and
cowabdicb. Herod's oath, cowardice — through fear. {Expository Discourses.)
Remembrance of past sin : — Henry of Essex, struck down in a duel, attributed his
defeat t« the imagined appearance of a knight whom he had murdered, standing by
the side of his adversary. Speaking of the man who planned the massacre of
Glencoe, Macaulay tells us that Breadalbane felt the stings of conscience. He
went to the most fashionable coffee-house in Edinburgh, and talked loudly about
what he had done among the mountains ; but some of his soldiers observed that all
this was put on. He was not the same man that he had been before. In all places,
at all hours, working or sleeping, Glencoe was for ever before him.
Ver. 17. For Herodias' sake. — Evil effects of vice : — The pleasures which chiefly
affect or rather bewitch the body, and by so doing become the pest and poison of
the nobler and intellectual part of man, are those false and fallacious pleasures
of lust and intemperance. Nothing does or can darken the mind or conscience oi
man more. Gould Herod have ever thought himself obliged by the religion of an
oath to murder the Baptist, had not his lust and his Herodias imprisoned and
murdered his conscience first ? It seems his besotted conscience, having broken
through the seventh commandment, the sixth stood too near it to be safe long. So that
it was his lust obstinately continued in which thus darkened and deluded his con>
science ; and the same will no doubt darken, delude, and in the end extinguish the
conscience of any man breathing, who shall surrender himself up to it. {Dr. South.)
The reciprocal revenge of wrong : — There is another point that should be brought
240 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTBATOR. [chap. Tlr
oat — the power which one nature has npon another, and the reciprocal revenge of
wrong. When Herod ensnared his brother's wife, when he tempted her into adul-
terous abandonment of her husband and into unlawful intercourse with him, he
was the aggressor and she was the partner ; but when they were living in unholy
concord she became the avenger, and her influence upon him led him into this
infamous crime and this damnable cruelty. He destroyed her virtue, and she
iestroyed his manhood ; and from that time to this how many have been destroyed
ay those who should have been their protectors, and who should have inspired in
4hem purity and gentleness and forgivingness 1 Oh, what chance was there for sweet
and wholesome water to come out of such fountains 1 But they rotted together and
spoiled each other. How many times, if we could look into the secrets of the house-
hold, should we see the same work going on : a bad man lowering the tone of the
woman that came to him pure and simple-minded, destroying her aspiration,
familiarizing her with vulgarity, urging all his influence and power to take away
from her the fear of evil and wrong, and rather rejoicing as every barrier is broken
down to bring her to his level 1 And how many men have been despoiled by hard,
selfish, and ambitious wives, the man being simple-minded, and, on the whole,
having right notions, and the woman perpetually employing the subtle arts of
influence, persuasion, and fascination, and all of them in the direction of selfish-
ness, and oftentimes in the direction of corruption and mahgnant crime I {H. W,
Beecher,)
Ver. 18. For Jolin had said unto Herod. — The difficulty of wise rebuke: — It ia
difficult to rebuke well ; i.e., at a right time, in a right spirit, and in a right
manner. The Baptist rebuked Herod without making him angry; therefore he
must have rebuked him with gravity, temper, sincerity, and an evident goodwill
towards him. On the other hand, he spoke so firmly, sharply, and faithfully, that
his rebuke cost him his life. ... He reproved him under the prospect of suffering
for his faithfulness ; and we should never use a -strong word, however true it be,
without being willing to acquiesce in some penalty or other, should it so happen,
as the seal of our earnestness. (J. H. Neivman.) Rebuke of sin considered in-
delicate : — I have always noticed that people who live in the practice of vice think
the servants of God ought not to allude to things so coarse. We are allowed to
denounce the sins of the man-in-the-moon and the vices of savages in the middle
of Africa ; but as to the everyday vices of this city of London, if we put our finger
upon them in God's name, then straightway some one cries, "It is indelicate to
allude to these things." (C. H. Spurgeotu)
Ver. 20. Por Herod feared John. — Better to fear God than His minister : — ^Herod
feared John, and did many things ; had he feared God, he would have laboured to
do everything. {Gurnall.) Fear versm Love : — The chains of love are stronger
than the chains of fear. Herod's love of Herodias was too hard for his fear of
John. (Ibid.) What moves wicked m£n thus to affect and reverence God's faith-
ful ministers f — 1. The consideration of the excellent gifts which they discern
in them, especially natural gifts. These draw them into admiration, and so
cause them to esteem and reverence them. 2. Some worldly good or benefit
which they reap by the acquaintance or society of such faithful ministers of
God. 3. The holy lives of God's faithful ministers. (G. Fetter.) Character of
Herod : — I. How mystebious and complex is the characteb or man 1 In the
same individual what a variety of qualities, apparently the most opposite, are
sometimes combined. How important it is that we should " know " ourselves and
the sins which so easily mislead and overcome us ; looking meanwhile for guidance
to Him who searcheth the reins and trieth the hearts of men. H. How stbono
IS THB IMPBE86I0N WHICH BEAL EXCELLENCK OF CHABACTEB MAKES, EVEN ON THE
MINDS OF WICKED MEN. With all hls abandonment of principle and looseness of
practice, Herod could not help admiring and respecting John. III. Yet a man may go
FAB IN HIS ADMIRATION OF GOODNESS, WHILE HE BEMAIJSS PBACTICALLY UNAFFECTED BY
IT. The precise extent of John's moral influence over Herod we do not know ; but
it is plain that he did follow his guidance in some respects, and, so far, for good ; but,
in spite of all, there was no real, decided, permanent change in his heart and cha-
racter. Hs had mistaken the semblance of religion for its reality — the husk for the
kernel. Consequently, when temptation came, it made him tenfold more the child of
Satan than before. JV. Leabn fbom this the dangeb of yielding to favoubitb sins.
XJntil met by the home-thrust, ** It is not lawful for thee to have her," all went on
CBAV. n.} 8T. MARK, 241
smoothly and pleasantly between Herod and John ; bnt the exposure of his darling
vice tnmed his friendship into enmity. V. Thk danobb or TBiFLiNa wixH serious
IMPRESSIONS, AND ACTiNo CONTRARY TO CONSCIENCE. Herod's association with John
oaght to have brought him to a humbling sense of sin and a decided change of
heart. Bat he trampled on his convictions ; and fatal was the result. Let us be
warned by his example. Every funeral that passes, solemn and slow, along the
streets ; every visit of disease and death to your family circle ; every season of holy
communion with God ; every prick of conscience ; these are all so many instruments
which God puts in operation for your well-being. Attend to these faithful monitors ;
cherish them ; and they will be productive of lasting benefit to your soul. (R.
Burnsy D.D.) Bad men with better moments: — This wicked and despotic
man, though he appointed for himself no bounds of morality, had moral sensibility
lying within him. In the midst of vice and crime he had a conscience. More than
that: this man whose very name has come down as a synonyna of all that is
corrupt and oppressive, had, in the midst of vices and crimes, a kind of yearning
for goodness. He had heard John ; he had heard him gladly ; he wanted to hear
him again ; and, after the momentary flash of passion and anger was over, he
wanted to save him. He was sorry that he was to be executed. There was some-
thing in this despotic king which yearned towards justice and goodness. And woe
be to every wicked man who, in his wickedness, never finds a single spark of virtue
to illuminate his life. I have reason to believe that the men who follow vice have
hours in which they look out from themselves longingly, and wish they were better ;
and that men who are given over to the power of their passions have hours and
days in which no outward condemnation is comparable to that which they them-
selves pass on themselves. Men, because they are wicked, are not necessarily dead.
Because they violate rectitude, they do not necessarily destroy their conscience
utterly. It sleeps or is drugged ; but it has its revenge. Nay, more ; it is this
dormant or latent sensibility to that which is in contrariety to their whole course
of life, that lays the foundation for hope of the recovery or reformation of men.
There are hours when many a man, if he had power to regenerate himself, would
speedily do it. Oh 1 that we only knew those hours. Oh 1 that some friend could
approach every such man at those periods when the doors of his prison are thrown
open for a time, and lead him by the hand. How many men might be rescued
from the abyss which finally overwhelms and destroys them, how m&nj men might
be brought up from their degradation and peril, if only we were wise, to seize the
hours in which they are impressible. The acute and watchful physician knowa
that a disease runs to a crisis, and that there are points of time when, if the patient
is carefully nursed and tended, curative tendencies will set in, and his health may
be restored. Now, men are in the same condition spiritually ; and if there were
only some oversight of them, they might be saved ; but, alas I they themselves
cannot perpetuate these hours ; they will not ; and we stand outside, and know
nothing of them. So in every street, and in every community, there are men who
are secretly burning out the very vital substance of their life ; who are walking in
ways, the beginnings of which are pleasant, but the ends of which are death ; who
are going down through the community, moaning as they go, sighing for something
better, and at times holding up hands of prayer and saying, " God, help me 1 "
Nevertheless, there are men who, with all these experiences, are utterly destroyed.
Here was this man Herod— as bad a man as could well be pictured, in many respects ;
and yet there were in him elements that could have reformed and restored him.
(H. W. Beecher.) Herod's partial repentance ;— It is curious and instructive to
observe that Herod is set before us here in the good points of his character— at
least, in the best points that he had. It is in the Holy Gospels that one of the
vilest wretches in human history is set before us in a somewhat amiable and
interesting aspect. He feels a sincere respect for religion. He is not so far gone
but that he knows honesty and faith and self-devotion when he sees them in another
man. And he does not respect these the less, but a great deal the more, when the
just and holy man does not spare his own sins, but denounces them to his face.
Not only this, but he takes the preacher under his protection ; and declares, doubt
less with much hard swearing, when one and another of the courtiers propose to
stop the prophet's insolence by taking his life, that no man shall hurt a hair of his
head. And I have no doubt that he took enormous pride in it, too, as many a
swearing, drinking, cheating reprobate nowadays will pride himself on hiring
a pew in a most puritan church, where righteousness and temperance and judgment
are faithfully preached to him, and will insist, with profuse expletives, that no man
16
MS THE BIBLICAL ILLU8TBAT0R, [chav. vt.
shall say a word against his minister. The case is common enough. But we
should do Herod injustice if we should suppose this to he all. Herod listened to
the preacher of righteousness and repentance with a genuine personal and practical
interest. He appHes John's teaching to his own case — to his own sins and his own
duties — so far as asything was left to his ingenuity in the matter of application,
for John's teaching was sufficiently direct and pointed in itself. Herod did lay the
word of the Lord to heart with reference to his own amendment, and did
obviously begin to make such a difference in his course of life as to give Herodias
reason to fear that he would not make an end of reforming until he had reformed
her and her devil's imp of a daughter out of the palace altogether. " He did many
things " in consequence of John's preaching — many just and upright things such
as were strange enough to hear of in the vice-regal court of Palestine ; beneficent
and public-spirited things, making his reign, for the time, a less unmitigated curse
to that afflicted country ; merciful things, using his princely wealth and power for the
relief of the distressed. What a thing to give thanks for was even this partial repen-
tance of Herod, for the good it did, for the pain and outrage that it saved ! Let no
one think that the preaching of God's kingdom is a total waste, even when no man
yields to it his unreserved submission. The whole work of Christ's gospel in any
conmiunity is not to be summed up in the net number of converts or communicants.
How many a soul is saved from being just such an abandoned wretch as Herod was ;
how many a decent home from being such a sty of nncleanness as Herod's palace was ;
how many a State from being defiled with blood and turbulent with wrong, just
through some men's standing in awe before the holiness of Christ, and hearing
Him gladly, and being willing to " do many things " I (Leonard W. Bacon.) In-
sufficiency of Herod's right-doing : — In all his doing of right things, Herod doei
nothing right ; for in all that he does he is Herod. The things that he does in
obedience to John's preaching are right in the abstract, considered independently of
the man that does them. But as a matter of fact, these actions in the abstract never
get done in actual Hfe. We can think about them, and reason about them ; but we
never really see or know of an action that is not done by somebody. The action is
the man acting. Strictly speaking, it is not actions that are right or wrong ; it is
men. And when the question is, — Did the man do right 7 we have to look at the
man as well as the deed. And the honest conscience has no doubt on this point :
No man is right in his doing, so long as he is cherishing a fixed, conscious purpose
to do wrong, or not to do altogether right. This is a rule that does not work both
ways. The hidden thought of the heart is like the morsel hidden in the garment
(Haggai ii. 10-14) ; it can pollute a good act, it cannot sanctify an evil act. Here
is Herod resolutely protecting the sternest of God's prophets, eagerly listening to
him, heeding him, obeying him in many things, but standing out obstinately in hia
incestuous and adulterous love against that word of the Lord, "It is not lawful for
thee to have her." How does the case stand with him, just now ? It was right,
wasn't it ? for Herod to " do many things " at the preaching of John. He was a
pretty good man for the time being, wasn't he ? Wasn't it quite like heroism —
moral heroism — ^backed up by political caution, when he stubbornly refased to per-
mit the killing of John, and said to Herodias, " No I I will not 1 I will agree to
lock him up in prison, but not one step further will I go ! " Was he not rather the
pattern of what we should call a good member of society — a man with a sincere
regpect lor religion, and a great interest in the church, and a strong attachment to
his favourite minister ; — a man who is willing to subscribe handsomely, and do
many things, and deny himself many things, but of course, not everything ? Now
I do not find that the gospel has any dealings with this kind of goodness. It does
not appear that Jesus Christ has any advice or encouragement for those who would
like to be rid of a part of their sins. He is not a specialist in spiritual maladies ;
He is a Great Physician. It is not worth your while to go to Him with a request
for partial and local treatment — to hold up before Him your infected, swollen Umb,
and say, " There 1 give me something for that ! Don't touch the rest of me. I am
all right. I only want that arm our^" He will not treat the case on any such
terms. Tour case is constitutional, not local. If you would have the help of Jesus
Cnirist ; you must surrender the case to Him ; and prepare for thorough treatment,
perhaps for sharp surgery. (Ibid.) Character a power: — Your success is very
much connected with your personal character. Herod " heard John gladly,*' and
♦♦ did many things,*' because he knew the preacher to be a just and holy man. Words
ottered from the heart find their way to the heart by a holy sympathy. Character
il power. (JB. CeciL) Inconstancy :— A ship that is not of the right make can*
. ▼!.] 8T, MARK. J4S
not gail trim, and a clock whose spring is faulty will not always go true ; so a
person of unsound principles cannot be constant and even in his practices. The
religion of those that are inwardly rotten, is like a fire in some cold climates, which
almost fries a man before, when at the same time he is freezing behind ; they are
zealous in some things, as holy duties, which are cheap ; and cold in other things,
especially when they cross their profit or credit ; as Mount Hecla is covered with snow
on one side, when it burns and casts out cinders on the other : but the holiness of
them that are sound at heart is like the natural heat,— though it resorts most to
the vitals of sacred performances, yet, as need is, it warms and has an influence
%j3on all the outward parts of civil transactions. It may be said of true sanctity,
atfK the sun, " There is nothing hid from the heat thereof." When all the parts
of the1»djL,have their due nourishment distributed to them, it is a sign of a healthy
temper. As t^h^saint is described sometimes by a ♦* clean heart," so also sometimes by
*• clean hands," because he has both ; the holiness of his heart is seen at his fingers'
ends. {G. Swinnock.^ A false respect for religion ;— A man may be acknowledged to
be just and holy, and for that very reason he may be dreaded. You like to see lions
and tigers in the Zoological Gardens, but you would not like to see them in your
own room ; you would very much prefer to see them behind bars and within cages ;
and so very many have respect for religion, but religious people they cannot bearl
<C7. H. Spurgeon.) Wanting to go to heaven, but liking the way to hell .-—Herod
was a foxy man. We sometimes meet with these foxy people. They want to go to
heaven, but they like the road to hell. They will sing a hymn to Jesus, but a good
roaring song they like also. They will give a guinea to the church, but how many
guineas are spent on their own lust. Thus they try to dodge between God and
Satan. (Ibid.) John and Herod : — I. The hopeful points in Hbbod's chasacteb.
He respected justice and holiness. He admired the man in whom he saw justice
and righteousness. He listened to John. He obeyed the word to which he hstened.
He continued to hear the preacher gladly. His conscience was greatly affected.
n. The flaws i» the oasb of hbbod. Though he feared John he never looked
to John's Master. He had no respect for goodness in his own heart. He never
loved the Word of God as God's Word. He was under the sway of sin. His was
a religion of fear, not of love. m. What became of Hebod. He slew the
preacher whom he respected. This Herod Antipas was the man who afterwardi
mocked the Saviour. He soon lost all the power he possessed. His name is in-
famous for ever. (Ibid.) Limed by lust ;— He was Uke a bird tak;en with lime-
twigs : he wanted to fly ; but, sad to say, he was willingly held, limed by his lust.
(Ibid.) Preaching! Man' 9 privilege and Ood's power:-— ^1. The blessedness of
HEABiNo THE woBD. The preaching of the gospel is represented by the sowing of seed
—casting the net into the sea— it is the bread of heaven— it is the light of the world.
n. The besponsibilities of the hsabbb of the Wobd. HI. The nbkdfdii accom-
paniments OF HEABINO THE WoBD. (Ibid. ) Transient religious impressums .-—When
you take hold of a piece of india-rubber, you may make any impression that you like
all over it, but after all it resumes its old shape. There are hosts of hearers of that
kind : very impressible, but they quickly return to their old tastes and habits. (Ibid,)
Why Herod feared John .-—Herod was a king ; John was a subject. Herod was in
a palace ; John was in a prison. Herod wore a crown ; John most probably did
not even own a turban. Herod wore the purple; John wore camlet, as we should
call it. John was the son of an obscure Jewish country priest and his wife : the
child of their old age. There is no hint that John had any wealth, or name, or
fame, or education, or influence, when he began his life as a man. He comes on
the scene as a rough, angular man, with not many words and not many friends.
Herod began to reign just about when John began to live, so that there was no
preponderant age in the priest's son over the king's son : that was all on the
other side. Indeed, by all mere surface facts, principles, and analogies, John
ought to have feared Herod ; he ought to have bated his breath and bent his head
before him. Now, I propose to discuss at this time the roots of this power and
weakness, to see what made Herod so weak and John so strong, and to ask this
question. What can we, who are set as John was, in the advance guard of re-
formers, do to make a deep, clear mark t And I note for you that John had
three great roots of power : First, he was a powebful man bt obeation— a man
with a dear head, a steady nerve, and a nature set in a deadly antagonism to sin
and meanness of every sort and degree. He was t e Jewish John Knox, or Joha
•• When he saw a thing was true.
He went to work and put it thxongh.**
M4 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [oha». ▼!•
He conld die, bat he eonld not back down. Every time I meet a man who
is a man, and not a stick, I ask myself one question: '*Why are yon the
man yoa are? Whence does your power hint itself to me? Whence does
it come." And while the ultimate answer has never oome out of Phren-
ology or Physiognomy, or any of the sciences that profess to tell you what
a man is by how he looks, yet the indicative answer has always lain in that
direction. In the head, and face, and form of a man there is certainly something
that impresses you in some such way as the weight, colour, and inscription of a
coin reveal to you, with a fair certainty, whether it be gold, or silver, or — brass ;
and it is possible, too, that the line in which a man has descended, the country
in which he is bom, the climate, the sceneiy, the history, the poetry, and the
society about him, have a great deal to do with tbe man. The father, in Queen
Elizabeth's time, as I have known in old English families, may be twenty-two
carat gold ; and the children in Queen Victoria's time may be no better than lead.
That mysterious antagonism that sows tares among the wheat, sows baseness in
the blood ; and if there be not for ever a careful and most painful dividing and
burning, the tares will in time come to nearly all there is on the soil. But still
for ever the great mint of Providence beats on, silently, certainly, continually,
sending its own new golden coins to circulate through our human life, and on
each of them stamping the infallible image and superscription that tells us *♦ this
is gold." Nay, the same great Providence makes not only gold coins, but silver
and iron too ; and if they are true to their ring, they are all Divine ; as ini^
great houses there be divers vessels, some to more honour and some to less
honour, but not one to dishonour if it be true to its purpose ; for while the golden
vase that holds the wine at the feast of a king is a vessel of honour, so is the
iron pot that holds the meat in the furnace ; the Parian vase that you fill with
flowers is a vessel of honour, and so is the tin dipper with which you fill it at the
well. For me, it is a wonderful thing to study merely the pictures of great men.
There is a power in the very shadow tbat makes you feel they were bom to be
kings and priests unto God. But if you know a great man personally, you find a
power in him which the picture can never give you. I suppose this good Jewish
country parson, the father of John, from the little we can glean about him, was
just a gentle, timid, pious, retiring man, whose mind had never risen above the
routine of his humble post in the temple. But lo 1 God, in the full time, drops
just one golden ingot down into that family treasury, pure, ponderous, solid gold.
Yet I need not tell you that there is a theory of human nature that busies itself
for ever in trying to prove that our human nature in itself is abominably and
naturally despicable. Now, this primitive intrinsic nature, I say, was the first
element that made John mightier in the prison than Herod was in the palace.
The one was a king by creation ; the other was only a king by descent. And
then, secondly, there comes into the difference another element. Herod made
the purple vile by his sin ; John made the camel's hair radiant by his holiness.
And in that personal truth, this rightwiseness, this wholeness, he gained every
Divine force in the xmiverse over to his side, and left to Herod only the infem^
forces. It was a question of power, reaching back ultimately, as all such questions
do, to God and the devil. So the fetter was turned to a sceptre, and the sceptre
to a fetter, and the soul of the Sybarite quailed, and went down before the soul of
the saint. Then the good man, the true, the upright, downright man of power,
goes right on to the mark. Let me tell you a story given me by the late venerable
James Mott, of Philadelphia, whose uncle, fifty years ago, discovered the island
in the Pacific inhabited by Adams and his companions, as you have read in the
story of *• The Mutiny of the Bounty." I was talking with him one day about it,
and he said that, after staying at the island for some time, his uncle turned his
vessel homeward, and steered directly for Boston, — sailing as he did from your
own good city, — eight thousand miles distant. Month after month the brave
eraft ploughed through storm and shine, keeping her head ever homewards. But
as she came near home, she got into a thick fog, and seemed to be sailing by
guess. The captain had never sighted land from the time they started ; but one
night he said to the crew, ** Now, boys, lay her to ! I reckon Boston harbour must
be just over there somewhere ; but we must wait for the fog to clear up before
we try to run in." And so, sure enough, when the morning sun rose it hfted the
fog, and right over against them were the spires and homes of the great city of
Boston I So can men go right onward over this great sea of hfe. The chart and
•ompass are with them ; and the power is with them to observe the meridian too
Ti.] ST. MARK, 845
and the eternal stars. Storms will drive them, currents will drift them, dangers will
beset them ; they will long for more solid certainties ; but by noon and by night
they will drive right on, correcting deflections, resisting adverse influences, and then,
at the last, when they are near home, they will know it. The darkness may be all
about them, but the soul shines in its confldenoe ; and the true mariner will say
to his soul, " I will wait for the mist to rise with the new morning ; I know home
is just over there." Then in the morning he is satisfied; he wakes to see the
golden light on temple and home. So God brings him to the desired haven.
Now John was one of those right-on men. Had there been a crevice in John's
armour, Herod would have found it out and laughed at him ; but in the presence
of that pure life, that deep, conscious antagonism to sin, that masterful power,
won as a soldier wins a hard battle, this man on the throne was abased before that
man in the prison. Then the third root of power in this great man, by which he
mastered a king, — by which he became a king, — lay in the fact that he was a true,
ciiKAB, UNFLINCHING, OUTSPOKEN PREACHER of holiuess. Somc preachcrs reflect the
great verities of religion, as bad boys reflect the sun from bits of broken glass. They
stand just on one side, and flash a blaze of fierce light across the eyes of their
victim, and leave him more bewildered and irritated than he was before. Such
a one is your fitful, ohauging doctrinaire, whose ideas of right and wrong, or sin
and holiness, of God and the devil, to-day, are not at all as they were last Sunday ;
who holds not that blessed thing, an ever-changing, because an ever-growiug and
ripening faith, but a mere sand-hill of bewilderment, liable to be blown anywhere
by the next great storm. Then there is another sort of preacher, who is like the
red light at the head of a railway night train. He is made for warning ; he comes
to tell of danger. That is the work of his life. When he is not doing that, he
has nothing to do. I bear friends at times question whether this man has a
Divine mission. Surely, if there be danger to the soul, — and that question is not
yet decided in the negative, — then he has to the inner life a mission as Divine as
that of the red lamp to the outer life. And I know myself of men who have
turned sharp out of the track before his fierce glare, who, but for him, had been
run down, and into a disgraceful grave. But the true preacher of holiness, the
real forerunner of Christ, is the man who holds up in himself the Divine truth, as
a true mirror holds the light, so that whoever comes to him, will see his own
character just as it is. Such a man was this who mastered a king. His soul was
never distorted by the traditions of the elders, or the habits of " good society,"
as it is called. On the broad clear surface of his soul, as on a pure still lake, you
saw things as if in a great deep. He had no broken lights, for he held fast to his
own primitive nature, and to his own direct inspiration. {R. Colly er.)
Ver. 26. And the Wng was exceeding sorry. — Crisis hours: — The acute and
watchful physician knows that a disease runs to a crisis, and that there are points
of time when, if the patient is carefully nursed and oared for, curative tendencies
will set in, and his health may be restored. Now, men are in the same condition
spiritually, and if there were only some oversight of them they might be
saved ; but, alas I they themselves cannot perpetuate these hours ; they
will not ; and we stand outside and know nothing of them. (H. W, Beecher.)
Sorrow not always Divine : — Herod was •♦ sorry ** when Salome asked for
the head of John. But *♦ sorry" for what? Was it on account of respect and
love for the prophet? or was he sorry because he feared popular indignation?
or because he felt that this was going a little too far in cruelty and injustice ?
Men are sorry in various ways. One is sorry for his sins, and another is sorry for
his scruples. One is sorry that he made a fraudulent profit, and another is sorry
that he did not. One, with strong anguish, mourns the loss of a friend, and
another the loss of a fortune. One sheds drops of pity, and one of mortification.
The mother is sorry for her dead babe that lies upon her breast like a withered
blossom, and the miser is sorry to part with a dollar. Sorrow is not always
Divine, and tears are not always of the kind that consecrate. In Herod's case it
is quite significant that we cannot exactly tell why he was sorry. One thing we
know, that his sorrow was not strong enough to stop the hand of the executioner,
and keep himself from crime. It was not strong enough to resist the sense
of shame, and the impulse of the hour. {E. H. Chapin.) Conditions of
promise keeping .'—Must a man, then, always keep a promise 7 I say, No. Let
ns look at some of the conditions. 1. A promise of that which in itself is
impoMible, I need not bay, a mau cannot fulfil. It is the making of sueh a promise
24« THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [ohaf. n.
that is a sin. 2. When the fulfilment of a promise is rendered impoBsible hj the
happening of subsequent events, a man who makes it is released from fulfilling that
promise — at any rate, so far as those events hinder him from fulfilling it. Where
a man promises to settle upon his son-in-law a certain stipulated amount in case of
the uniting of his daughter in marriage to him, if, when the occasion comes, the
father-in-law is bankrupt, how can he fulfil his promise ? Circumstances have
changed. His power to fulfil his promise is gone. 3. When the thing promised ia
contrary to the law of the land it is void. 4. Where a promise is made which
involves a violation of morality, or the laws of God, no man has the right to keep
it. And this is exactly the case that Herod found himself in. He was a fool to
make the promise ; he was a demon to fulfil it. (fl. W. Beeeher.) The course of
xin: — Herod's sin began in a very common place for the beginning of deadly sin.
It began in the riot and levity of sensual amusement. The fact is, that Satan only
wants the occasion of a beginning of a sin froni as ; however slight that may be,
though we may have removed from the sure ground of a clear and undefiled con-
science, by a step of a hair's breadth, he has gained all that he wants. He haa
removed us from the ground where we could watch and pray : he has put the fear
of God, and love of Christ, out of our hearts; he has withdrawn us from the
presence of God, tempted us to come forth from the hiding-place of His pavilion,
and the secret of His tabernacle ; and to come down from the rock on which we had
been set up through His merciful protection ; and then we are completely in hia
power. Who, then, that knowingly begins a sin, can tell where it will end ? Most
men begin it with a notion that they can stop in its course when they like, and that
they will have the opportunity and the will to repent. But how miserably they are
mistaken in both those notions ; they hardly need even Herod's example to warn
them. We have seen at length already, how utterly unable they are to stop;
and a very few considerations will show how little reason they have to look forward
to a genuine repentance. They forget, in the first instance, the nature of sin, which
is to harden the heart, to sear the conscience, and to blind the understanding. All
these effects are the very contrary to repentance. And they may, therefore (since
they have put God out of the question), as well expect com to come out of thistle
seed as repentance out of wilful sin. On the whole, the text gives ua a solemn
warning upon the nature of sin. It is not always barefaced and audacious, even
when most heinous. The sinner may even set about his dreadful taskwork which
Satan has set him, with exceeding sorrow, as did Herod. But this does not avail to
abate its violence, or to lessen their guilt. {R. W. Evans, B.D.) The beginning
of evil is like the letting out of water. The poet tells us that the destruction of the
lute begins with the first rift ; and the rottenness of the fruit with the first speck.
Rpsist, I pray you, the first temptation. Endeavour to conquer Herod. (W. Walters.)
Tim ejf'ects of the preaching of John the Baptist upon Herod: — The case of Herod
and Felix much alike. We are not told of Felix that he ever did more than
tremble; there is no register of his having taken any steps in consequence of his
conviction. Herod did " many things " in consequence of what he heard from the
Baptist. I. Now it is very carefully to be observed (for upon this we shall through-
out have to lay no small stress), that Hebod feabed John, but that nothing is said
FROM WHICH WE CAN iNFEB THAT Herod FEABED GoD. Wc are uot, pcrhapB, awaro
what power there is in the principle of the fear of man, for it will often cause persona
to disobey God, and peril their eternity, rather than run the risk of a frown; And
this principle may operate as well to the withdrawing men from vice, as the con-
firming them in it. It is not indeed by this denunciation of sin in the general, that
the preacher will become an object of fear, and a motive to reform ; for a man will
sit with the greatest complacence under the universal reproof, and think it nothing
to be condemned in common with all. But when he denounces particular sins, and
thus, as it were, singles out a few from the mass, he may cause those few to feel so
sensitively, as though all eyes were upon them ; so that if the sina be such as may be
abandoned without great pain, they will be likely to abandon them just to prevent
the being again thus exposed. They give up one thing after another, according as
conscience is more and more urgent ; but the favourite practice, the darling passion,
this still retains its mastery, whilst less cherished habits are broken, and less
powerful desires are subdued. The man whose master-passion is covetousness may
become moat rigidly moral, though he had not heretofore been distinguished by
purity of life ; but measured morahty, in place of being attended with diminished
covetousness, may be only a make weight with conscience against the abiding and
even the growing eagerness for gain. The man again, whose master-passion is sen-
. n.] 8T. MARK. 247
aaality, may give much in alms to the poor, though he had previoasly been accounted
penurious ; but is he, therefore, necessarily less the slave of his lust 7 Ah, no. He
may only have bought himself peace in the Indulgence of his appetites by liberality
in relieving the destitute. It is the same in the case of every other master-passion.
Unless it be Herodias that is put away, there is no evidence of genuine repentance ;
all that is surrendered may be nothing more than a proof of the value put upon
what is retained. And therefore, if you would discriminate between reformation
and repentance, if yon would know whether you have limited yourselves to the
former and are yet strangers to the latter, examine what it is you keep, rather than
what you give np. Beformation will always leave what you love best to the last ;
whereas repentance will begin with the favourite sin, or go at once to the root, in
place of cutting off the branches. II. But wb said that it was a tet mobe remabk-
ABEL statement, IN BErERENCB TO HeBOD, KSPBCIALLT AS CONTRASTED WITH FeLIX,
THAT HE HEARD JoHN GLADLY. There is a pleasure in being made to feel pain,
even where a loog course of dissipation has not generated the disease of ennui. Is it
not thus with the frequenters of a theatre, who flock eagerly to their favourite amuse-
ment when some drama of terror and crime is to have possession of the stage ? They
go for the purpose of being thrilled, and of having the blood made to creep, and of
feeling an indefinable horror seize upon their spirits. They are altogether disappointed
if no such effect be produced ; and unless the exhibition of fictitious suffering quite
carry them away, and so produce all the emotions which witnessed suffering will pro-
duce, they lay blame upon those who have conducted the mimicry, and count them de-
ficient in skill and in power. We repeat, then, our words, that there is a pleasure in
being made to feel pain even with those who cannot be said to have worn out their
sensibilities, and, of course, in a greater measure with others to whom such descrip-
tion applies. And would it, therefore, follow that Herod could not have heard John
gladly had John so preached as to make Herod tremble ? Oh 1 far enough from this.
It may just have been the fact of trembling which made Herod a glad hearer of the
Baptist. There was a power in the Baptist of exciting the torpid feelings of a jaded
voluptuary. Because you are made to tremble, and because, so far from shrinking at
the repetition of the process, you come with eagerness to the sanctuary and submit
yourselves again to the same overcoming influence, yon may easily fancy you have
a just apprehension of God's wrath, and even that you have duly prepared yourselves
for a day, of whose terror you can hear with something of pleasurable emotion : and
therefore we have laboured to show you that there may be a complacency and glad-
ness beneath the preaching of the Word, when that preaching is the preaching of
vengeance, which is whoUy unconnected with any effort to escape what is threatened,
bat may quite consist with the remaining exposed to it with no shelter against its fury,
no real dread of its coming. It is not merely possible, but in a high degree probable,
that a man addicted to gambUng might gaze in anguish at the scenic representation
of a gambler, hurried on ontil utter ruin crushed his family and himself, and then
pass from the theatre to the gambling-table, and there stake his all on the cast of
the dice. We should not necessarily conclude, from observing the frequency with
which the gambler came to the representation of the gamester, and the riveted
interest which he felt in the harrowing drama, that he was at all sensible to the
evils of gambling, or would at all endeavour to extricate himself from its fearful fas-
cinations ; we should, on the contrary, see nothing but a common exhibition of our
nature — a nature that has pleasure in excitement, though the exciting thing be its
own ruin, if we knew that on the very night, after listening to the thrilling cry of
the maddened victim of the hazard table, he hurried to the scene where he and others
did their best towards making the case precisely their own. We need not draw out
a parallel between such an instance and that of a sinner, who can listen with an eager
interest to the descriptions of the sinner's doom, and then depart and be as resolute
as ever in doing evil deeds. The parallel must be evident to you all, and we only
exhort you so to form it for yourf^elves, that you may never confound the haviwg
pleasure in the hearing future judgment energetically set forth with the being
aUve to that judgment, and watchful to remove it from yourselves. But we do
not design, as we have already said, to ascribe the gladness of Herod exclusively to
8Uoh causes as we have alone been endeavouring to trace. If Herod were at times
made to tremble, and if that very trembling were acceptable as a species of animal
excitement, we may yet suppose that this was not the only account on which he
heard the Baptist gladly. Herod had " done many things," and it is therefore likely
that he thought himself sufficiently righteous and secured against the vengeance
which John denounced against the wicked. He may have become that most finished
248 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap. n»
of all hypocrites, the hypocrite who imposes on hitaself ; and having wrought him«
self into a persuasion of safety, he may have hearkened with great delight to the
descriptions of dangers in which others stood. It is therefore a matter of prime
moment, that we warn our hearers against the inferring that they have undergone a
moral change, from the finding they have pleasure in listening to the gospel. For
even where men have not, like Herod, •♦ done many things," they may, like Herod»
" hear the Baptist gladly." There is many an enthusiastic lover of music, who mis-
takes for piety and religious emotion, the feelings of which he is conscious, as the
sacred anthem comes pealing down the aisle of the cathedral, just because he feels
an elevation of soul and a kindhng of heart. As the tide of melody poured
forth from the orchestra comes floating to him, he will imagine that he has really
an affection towards spiritual things, and really aspires after heaven. Alas I alas I
though music be indeed an auxiliary to devotion, it proves no devotion that you can
be thrilled and lifted out of yourselves by the power of music. It is altogether on
natural feelings and sensibilities, which may or may not be drawn out by religion,
that the lofty strain tells with so subduing an effect ; and even when you are most
carried away and overcome by the varied notes, I see no reason whatsoever, why
you might not return from the oratorio of the " Creation " and ascribe the universe
to chance, and from that of the '* Messiah " and be ready with the Jews to crucify the
Christ. The case is altogether the same with the preaching of the gospel. In sacred
music, it is not the words, it is only the machine by which the words are conveyed,
that produces feelings which the man mistakes for devotion. He may be without
a care for the truth which is uttered, and yet be fascinated by the melodies of the
utterance, and thus take the fascination as proof of his delight in spiritual things.
And thus in the case of preaching. Indeed, the cases are so identical, that it was
said by God to Ezekiel, when multitudes of the impenitent flocked to the hearing
of him, " Thou art unto them as a very lovely song of one that has a pleasant voice,
and can play well upon an instrument." (H. Melvill, B.D.) Sin haunting the
guilty : — In illustrating how Herod was haunted by the ghost of his sin — recall
some points from former lessons, as, for instance, the witness of Abel's blood from
the ground against Cain ; and the self-reproaches of Joseph's brethren, when the
memory of their sin came upon them in after years. Beference should be made to
the poem of Eugene Aram ; to the'night scene in Macbeth, where Lady Macbeth tries
to cleanse her guilty hands ; and to the story of the man who, to gain an inheri-
tance, flung his brother into the sea, and, ever after, when he looked upon water, saw
his brother's dead face staring up from the depths. There is one stone in the floor
of an old church in Scotland which stares out at you blood-red from the gray stonea
around it. The legend tells of a murder committed there, and of repeated fraitlegs
attempts to cover the tell-tale colour of that stone. Morally, the legend is true ;
every dead sin sends its ghost to haunt the soul of the guilty. The progress
of sin : — A drop of poison is poison as really as a phial of it is. The drop and
the phial differ in quantity, not quality. Make ever so slight a cut on your
finger with a poisoned blade, and the canker is carried through your system, pollut-
ing all your blood. The leaven put into the meal leavens the whole lump. The
train which has been carelessly left to stand at the top of an incline begins to move
down slowly at first, but at an ever-increasing speed, till at last it thunders down
with irresistible swiftness, carrying destruction to whatever opposes it. Trace the
progress of Herodias* sin, from hate — which is latent murder — to actual murder.
The sinful snare: — When we wish to trap an animal, we hide the snare and show
only the tempting tit-bit. We hide the hook beneath the bait. Compare Satan**
trap for Herod — a dancing girl, practising her seductive arts.
Vers. 30, 31. Come ye yourselves apart into a desert place. — TJie 8aviow'$
invitation to rest : — I. Note the tenderness of Christ. II. Labour lightened u
NOT LOST. III. Spiritual work especially needs rest. IV. The breezy mountaim-
BIDE, AWAY FROM MEN, STILL OIVES THE FINEST SORT OF REST. V. BeST NEVER SEEMS TO
BE HAD WHERE YOU ARE, BUT ALWAYS OTHER-WHERB *, and sometimcs when you reach
the quietest spot, the disturbing element has gone there before yon. (JR. Glover.)
The necessity for rest .*— God has signified this to us in His material creation. He
has made the earth to revolve on her axis in a way that brings her at stated seasons
nnder light and shade ; and He has proportioned the strength of man to those
seasons. I. We need rest physically. The hands begin to slacken and the eyes
to close when God draws the curtain. It is one of those adaptations which show
God's kindly purpose. The thoughtless or ooyetous over-tension of our own powers
. ru] ST, MARK, 249
the hard driving of those under our control, the feeling that we can never get
«nough work out of our fellow-creatures, the evil eye cast on their well-earned rest
or harmless recreation, are all to be denounced and condemned. U. This law applies
also to MENTAL exertlon. The mind must at times look away from things, as
well as at them, if it is to see clearly and soundly. This is not necessarily waste
time ; when the mind is lying fallow it may be laying up capacity of stronger
growth. III. The spiritual faculties are subject to the same law. A continual
strain of active rehgious work is apt to deaden feeling and produce formality. {John
Ker^ D.D.) Recreative rest : — I. Recreative best is becognized by God as a
NECESSITY FOB MAN. IL It SHODLD HAVE A JUST RELATION TO EARNEST WORK. Rest IS
the shadow thrown by the substance work, and you reach the shadow when you
have passed by the substance which throws it. III. It is intended to exercibr a
WHOLESOME INFLUENCE ON OHABACTEB. If it fits US for doing our work better, it is
right ; otherwise, it is wrong. The test is, Can we engage in it in conscious fellow-
ship with Christ ? {A, Rowland, LL.B.) The Christian uses of leisure : — It is
not an indolent animal repose, but that rest of refreshment which befits those who
have Bouls. Its elements are — I. Communion with outward nature. The world
was made not merely for the support of man's body, but also for the nurture of his
mind and spirit. What architect would build his house only with an eye to stores
and animal comforts, paying no regard to its being a home for a man, with windows
opening on wide expanses of land and sea, or quiet nooks of homely beauty ? We
should endeavour to make the inner world of our thoughts about God and spiritual
things not a separate thing from the world of creation, but with a union like that
between body and soul. If we could learn to do this aright, it would strengthen ns
in good thoughts, and relieve doubts and calm anxieties. Nature can do very little
for us if we have no perception of a Divine Spirit breathing through it ; but very
much if the Great Interpreter is with us. If we surrender ourselves to this Teacher
He can show us wide views through narrow windows, and speak lessons of deep calm
in short moments. II. Intebcoubsb with fellow-Christians. There will always
be a want in a man's religious nature if he has not come into contact with hearts
around him that are beating with a Divine life to the pulse of the present time.
Every age, every circle, has its lessons from God, and no one can learn them all
alone. Let ns be more frank and confidential, also more natural, in our talk on
these matters concerning our mutual faith and hope. IIL A closer converse
WITH THE Master. When we are doing our appointed work in God's world, or
labouring actively for the good of others, our minds are dispersed among outward
employments ; we may be serving God very truly all the time, but we are careful
about many things, and have not leisure to sit at His feet and speak to Him about
our own individual wants. It is essential that we should from time to time secure
leisure for this. The flame of devotion will not bum very long or very bright
unless you have oil in your vessels with your lamps. {John Ker, D.D,) Rest by
the way : — Rest is an absolute necessity of life ; without it the body dies. The
traveller on a journey looks forward to some spot where he can stay a while. The
sailor has his haven where he can for a time furl his sails and find shelter from the
storm and tempest. The wanderer in the hot desert strains his eyes to see the one
green spot in all that sandy waste where there are trees and water and the promise
of rest. And the sotd needs rest as well as the body. Just as too much excitement
and hurry and over-work wear out our bodily strength, so our spiritual life, the life
of the soul, becomes faint and weak without rest. On our journey from earth to
heaven we need some quiet harbours, some peaceful spots, where we can find rest.
Jesus has built such cities of refuge for us. His pilgrims, and provided quiet havens
for His people as they pass over the waves of this troublesome world, L The sbb-
▼ICE8 AND BACBAMENTs OF THE Chubch. There is a famous bell in a certain church
abroad known as the "Poor Sinner's Bell." This is how it got its name. Five
hundred years ago a bell-founder was engaged in casting this bell. For a few
moments he left a boy in charge of the fumase, charging him not to touch the
apparatus which held the molten metal in the cauldron. The boy disobeyed his
master, and meddled with the handle. Instantly the liquid metal began to pour
into the mould. The terrified boy ran to tell the bell-founder, who, thinking his
great work was ruined, struck the boy in a fit of passion, and killed him. When
the metal was cold, the bell, instead of being spoiled, was found to be perfect in
shape and singularly sweet in tone. The unhappy bell-founder gave himself up for
the murder of the boy, and as he was led to execution the Poor Sinner's Bell rang
out sweetly, inviting all men to pray for the doomed man, and warning all men of
250 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. (cha». n.
the effects of disobedience and anger. la there no Poor Sinner'e Bell among ntt
Does the ohnrch bell bring no message to you 7 II. Pbivatb pbayeb. IIL Biblb
KEADiMO. Pat your heart into this, and yon will find a refreshment, a resting
place. It will take you for a time out of the world, out of the great, busy, noisy
Vanity Fair, and you can, as it were, walk in God's garden, or wander through Hu
great picture gallery. Men or women who have lived and died in faith will be your
companions, your examples. {H. J. Wilmot-Buxton, M.A.) Rest and tpork : —
I. There is no true rest which has not been earned by work. IL The duty of
resting has the same reasons as the duty of working. III. Solitude is the proper
refreshment after public work, and preparation for it. IV. The spirit can never be
at leisure from compassion, sympathy, love. {E. Johnson, M.A.) No leisure : —
Duty of religious teachers to point out and rebuke social evils. One of these is the
want of leisure. A fair amount of labour is necessary and desirable, but when work
is 80 absorbing that mind, afTections, and spiritual life are neglected, we sin against
law of nature and God. So far as labour out of doors is concerned. God Himself
interposes by drawing the curtain of night ; but in certain trades, through the
ambition of the trader or the carelessness of the general public, young people are
often kept on their feet twelve or fifteen hours, with scarcely time allowed to swallow
a morsel of food. The wrongs of these silent sufferers ought to be redressed. Let
us not forget — I. That earnest wokk is Divinely appointed. Before the Fall in
the Garden of Eden. Afterwards in the fourth commandment. Labour and rest
are linked together by God in indissoluble bonds. Work is necessary to (1) human
progress ; (2) the preservation of society ; (3) the nobility of man. I confess that
I gympatluze very much with the American who was told by an English tourist
that he was surprised to find no " gentlemen " in his country. " What are they ? **
was the reply. ♦• Oh," said he, •• people who don't work for their living.** " Yea,
we have some of them,*' replied the shrewd New Englander, " only we call them
tramps." Thank God if the necessity of work, and the opportunity, and the power
for work are youra ; and in whatever sphere of life you are placed, pray that you
may deserve at last the epitaph which was put, at his own request, on the tomb
of one of the bravest and most brilliant Christian soldiers England ever had :
*' Here lies Henry Lawrence, who tried to do his duty." II. That sditablk leisubb
IS uiPEBATivELY BEQUiBED. Observc the evils resulting from long hours of labour.
1. Physical. Constant strain and tension. 2. Mental. Mo chance of improving
the mind by reading, classes, societies, <&o. 3. Moral. When the young people do
get free, scarcely anything is open to them but what may tend to their corruption.
And the temptation comes at a time when there is the more danger of yielding to
it, from the reaction which follows continuous work and induces a craving for
excitement. 4. Beligious. Home-training rendered impossible. Lord's Day almost
necessarily devoted exclusively to bodily rest and recreation, and so worship
neglected. III. That this just claim fob leisubb is often disbeoabded. Things
are, in some respects, much better than they were. The wholesale houses, and
many offices, close earlier than before, and Saturday is a half-holiday. But this
improvement only affects certain trades and districts. Those in retail shops —
milliners, dressmakers, <fec., remain unrelieved. Leisure is the more required now,
because work is done much more strenuously and exhaustingly than hitherto. IV.
Eemedies. 1. Combination among employSs, 2. Agreement among employer!.
It is for their own interest. 3. More enlightened public opinion, resulting in altered
practice. (1) Give up late shopping, so that there shall no longer be a demand for
protracted labour. (2) Encourage employers who show their willingnesa to do what
is right in this matter. (3) Allow a reasonable time for execution of orders, bo thai
the beautiful dress at a party shall not be hideous in the sight of angels by the
stains of tears and blood they alone can aee. {A. Rowland, LL.B.) A victim to
want of leisure : — A well-known visitor among the poor found living in a notorious
court a woman who was known as '* the Button-hole Queen," who often gave work
away, poor though she was, to those poorer than herself. Beaerved aa she appeared
to be, she was at last induced to tell her story, which accounted for the interest ahe
took in the poor girls around her ; and poor they were, for fancy the misery of
making 2,880 button-holes in order to earn 10s., and having " no time even to
cry I " Her story was this : Her daughter had been apprenticed to a milliner at
the West End. She was just over sixteen, and a bright young Christian, She got
through her first seaaon without breaking down ; but the aecond was too much for
hei. She did not complain, but one day she was brought home in a cab, having
broken a blood-vessel, and there she lay, propped up by pillows, her face white as
n.] ST, MARK, 251
death, except for two spots where it had been flecked by her own blood. To ase
the mother's own words : " She smiled as she saw me, and then we oarried her in,
and when the others were gone she clnng ronnd my neck, and laying her pretty
head on my shoulder, she whispered, * Mother, my own mother, I've come home to
diet'" Killed by late hours I She lingered for three months, and then she passed
away, but not before she had left a message which became the hfe-inspiration of
her mother : " For my sake be kind to the girls like me ; " and that message, with
God's blessing, may make some of you think and resolve, as it did the poor
•'Button-hole Queen.*' {Ibid.) Ministen need rest: — The apostles were well-
nigh overwhelmed with their labours, for work had made work : they were cum-
bered with much serving — not preaching the gospel only, but healing and exorcising ;
their meals and needful rest were broken in upon by importxmate crowds ; and so
the Lord, to teach us that His ministers must have time for needful refreshment,
does not recruit them by a miracle, but insists upon their using natural means.
And is it not so now? Is not many an active and self-denying minister well-nigh
broken down and worn-out, because there is no time for thought and rest, and
tranquil meditation, and a change of scene? Bich men, with many-roomed
mansions, could not do a greater kindness to poor over-worked ministers than by
inviting them from their crowded streets and alleys to find a little rest and leisure
in their multitudes of unused apartments. {M. F. Sadler.) Re$t in nature : —
For all organic life God has provided periods of repose, during which repair goes
on in order to counteract the waste caused liy activity. In the spring-time we see
movement and stir in gardens, fields, and hedgerows, which continues till the fruits
are gathered in and the leaves fall; but then winter's quiet again settles down over
all, and nature is at rest. Even the flowers have their time for closing their petals,
and their sleeping hours come so regularly, and yet are so varied in distribution
among them, that botanists can construct a floral clock out of our English wild-
flowers, and tell the hour of night or day by their opening or closing. The same
God who created the flowers and appointed the seasons, ordained the laws of
Israel, and by these definite seasons of rest were set apart for the people — the
Sabbath, the Jubilee year, and the annual festivals. Indeed, in every age and
every land, the coming of night and the victory of sleep are hints of what God has
ordained for man. {A. Rowland^ LL.B.) The seaaon of rest: — The first of these
principles is that rest is the result and the fruit of labour and toil ; it is the right
and duty of workers. The second principle which I venture to lay down with
reference to recreation is this — that its proper object is to prepare us for further
work. There is yet one other principle to be noticed in connection with our subject,
viz., that in our rest and recreation we should maintain a consciousness of God's
presence, and carry out the apostolic rule— whether you eat or drink, or whatever
you do, do all to the glory of God. {J. F. Kitto^ M,A.) Recreation : — Luther
used to sport with his children ; Edmund Burke used to caress his favourite horse ;
Thomas Chalmers, in the dark hour of the Church's disruption, played kite for
recreation — as I was told by his own daughter ; and the busy Christ said to the
busy apostles : " Come ye apart awhile into the desert and rest yourselves. " And
I have observed that they who do not know how to rest do not know how to work.
{Dr. Talmage.) Seclusion with Christ : — It was a time of mooming. Our Lord
had just heard of the death of a near kinsman ; that lion-hearted man who had
confronted a king in his adultery, and had given his Ufe as a martyr. His death,
with its circumstances, affected no doubt with more than common sorrow the
tender, loving, most human heart of Jesus. Also it waa one of those dangerous
times in human life, at which the accomplishment of a diflScult duty is apt to
throw us off our guard, and through self-complacency to induce slumber. The
apostles had just returned from a difficult mission, and had come back to report
to their Master both what they had done and what they had taught. And for this
third reason also. Theirs was a busy life, a life of great unrest at all times :
'* there were many coming and going, and they had no leisure so much as to eat."
For some purposes indeed the world cannot be too much with us. With it and in it
lies our work. To encourage the activities, to direct the energies. Besides which,
there are not only virtues which can have no exercise but in society — there are
also many faults which spring up inevitably in solitude. There are some influences
of the world which need a strong counteraction. One of these is irritation. Another
of these evil influences is what must be called, in popular language, worldliness.
And there is this, too, in the presence of the world, that it keeps under, of necessity,
the lively action of conscience, and makes any direct access to God an absolute
25J THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap. Tfc
impossibility. A Christian man thinks it no part of religion, but the very contrary,
to do his worldly business badly. If he is to do it well, he must give his thoughts
to it If he is to give his thoughts to it, the lively presence of high and holy topics
of meditation is scarcely possible. The correcting necessity — " Come ye yourselves
apart into a desert place, and rest awhile." This seciasion mav be either periodical
or occasional. Think what night is, and then say what we should be without it.
And that which night is, in one aspect, as a periodical withdrawal from the
injurious influences of the multitude, that, in another point of view, and yet more
impressively, is God's day of rest, tiie blessed Resurrection-day, the Christian
Sunday. One He visits with a loss, and one with a misfortune, and one with a
bereavement, and one with disease. But there remains just one caution.
We must not wait for this seclusion by Christ Himself. If Christ comes not
to take us aside, we must go aside to Him. {G. J, Vaughan, D.D.) The
higher use of retirement .-—And after the weary six days have seen him
burning, glowing, sacked, replenished, and sacked again, Sunday comes; and
thousands of men do on Sunday what railroads do— run the old engine into
the machine-shop, and make the needed repairs, that it may be fit to start
again on Monday. So men, dealing in the affairs of life, and coming under its
excitements, go into retirement purely and merely to rest, simply to refit. It is a
life that is not worthy of a man. It is a life that certainly is adverse, in all its
influences, to the plenary development of that which makes man the noblest animal
on the globe. We do not need retirement because we are so weary : we need it,
and enough of it, and we need it under certain right circumstances^ in order that
we may think, consider, and know what we are, where we are, and what we are
doing. {H. W. Beecher.) Retirement for observation: — Then we need these
periods of rest for taking new observations. Every ship that makes a voyage, after
fogs or storms obscured the sky, seizes the first moment of starlight or sunlight to
take observations. The seamen have been going by dead reckoning or by no
reckoning, but when they get an opportunity to make an observation, they can
very soon tell by computation where they are. {Ibid.) Rest from one set oj
ideai : One fact which we cannot afford to overlook is that the instrument of the
soul in all its mental and emotional workings is a material brain, undergoing with
each modification of tiiought and play of feeling a corresponding molecular change.
In common with every other bodily organ, its healthy activity is limited by its need
of nutrition and sleep. Besides, the researches of men like Professor Ferrier have
proved that there is a localization of faculty in the brain, so that persevering with-
out intermission in one set of ideas has an effect upon it corresponding to the
exclusive use of one set of muscles in another part of the body, with similar results
also of disproportionate development and consequent incompleteness of mental
chsu-acter. These are only physiological explanations of the well-established facts
of experience, that work without play induces dulness, that the bow must some-
times be unbent, that there must be in mental culture not only a rotation of various
crops, but periodical fallows, or barrenness will be the result. In the name of
morality and religion, also, a protest may be raised against unceasing and exclusive
occupation for the welfare of others, as the ideal of a worthy life. God sent us into
the world to grow and realize His own thought in creating us. If human welfare
is an end of our existence, our own welfare is, at least, part or it. But it is incon-
sistent with our welfare to dwarf and repress any part of our God-given nature.
We were intended to grow all round, on our north side as well as on the side that
faces the sun. The sense of melody, the feeling of humour, the perception of
beauty in form and colour, and the social instinct, are as much from God as our
conscience of right and wrong. They are of immeasurably less importance, but of
some importance, nevertheless. Their culture cannot be neglected, or their
cravings repressed, without a corresponding loss of mental symmetry {E, W,
ShalderSf B.A.) The richer f&r rest : — The first element of recreation is rest.
Change of employment brings a measure of relief, but no change of employment
will dispense with the necessity there is for rest. To suppose that the time spent
in it is so much deducted from the world's welfare or our own is a great mistake.
In a speech delivered by Lord Macaulay, more than thirty years ago, advocating
a shortening of the hours of labour, he describes, in language as true as it is
eloquent, the material advantages this country has derived from the observance ol
the Sabbath. He says: *'The natural difference between Campania and Spitz-
bergen is trifling when compared with the difference between a country iimabited
by men full of bodily and mental vigour and a country inhabited by men sunk in
«HAP. V1.3 8T, MARK. 253
bodily and mental decrepitnde. Therefore it is that we are not poorer, but richer,
because we have, through many ages, rested from our labour one day in seven.
That day is not lost. While industry is suspended, while the plough lies in the
furrow, while the Exchange is silent, while no smoke ascends from the factory, a
process is going on quite as important to the wealth of nations as any process
which is performed on more busy days. Man, the machine of machines, the
machine compared with which all the contrivances of the Watts and the
Arkwrights are worthless, is repairing and winding up, so that he returns to his
labours on the Monday with clearer intellect, with livelier spirits, with renewed
corporeal vigour. Never will I believe that what makes a population stronger,
and healthier, and wiser, and better, can make it poorer." (Ibid.) Retirement
tisential to the growth of true piety : — There were two classes to whom this
invitation was addressed — the mourners for John Baptist {see preceding verses,
and Matt. xiv. 12, 13) and the triumphant apostles, exulting, excited, and perhaps
unduly elated (ver. 30). I. The circumstances in which the Savioub makes
THIS APPEAL. 1. On the Lord's day. 2. Frequent intervals during the week. 3.
Seasons of sickness. 4. Various relative trials. II. The nature of the betire-
MSNT TO WHICH WB ARE INVITED. 1. Not simply Withdrawal from others. You
may live aloof from the world, and yet not be with Christ. 2. Not monkish seclu-
fiion. It was only ♦* for awhile." Not like the hermits of the deserts. 3. To enjoy
His sympathy. 4. To listen to His instructions ; to learn His truth. 5. To feel
the sanctifying effect of His presence. III. The purposes fob which this betire-
MBNT IS needed— " They had not leisure so much as to eat." 1. Our physical
nature requires it. 2. For our spiritual health. The late Sir E. Parry was remark-
able for his regular observance of devotional exercise on board his ship, and equally
for his skill and presence of mind in times of danger. •' Keep yourselves in the love
of God." There is much growth of a warm, etill, summer's night, when the dew is
quietly descending on the plant. 3. To prepare us for usefulness. Lamps must be
secretly fed with holy oil. 4. To prepare us to be alone with Christ at last. (1)
Here is a test for your state. Can you bear His presence alone. (2) Secure time
for being alone with Christ. By rising early ; by being less in company with the
world ; by planning how you will spend a day. (3) Assist others to obtain it. Let em-
ployers afford it to their servants, (Stiidies). Rest awhile : — It will amply repay
the pilgrim to turn aside sometimes from the beaten track ; for the incidental teach-
ings of the Blessed Life, like the wild flowers of the glen, or the fern sheltering in the
fissure, or the silver stream dripping from the rock, or the still pool with its myriad
beauties, are no inconsiderable element in the attainment of that wisdom whose ways
are pleasantness, and whose paths are peace. The lessons of the story are broad and
obvious. Foregoing the lessons of this story as a whole, it will be profitable to give
our attention to that one feature of it which is enshrined in the words : " Come ye
yourselves apart into a desert place, and rest awhile." I. For with what graphic
force do the words on which the Master's invitation was based descbibb thb un-
BEST OF To-DAT — '* There were many coming and going." We meet it everywhere.
On all sides one is brought face to face with work— exciting, bewildering, exhaust-
ing. This is not an eccentricity, an abnormal and therefore transitional phe-
nomenon; it is a necessity of the times. The energy which at one time com-
manded a fortune is now needed to win one's daily bread. Inventions which once
excited the wonder of the world are now regarded as curiosities. The scholarship
which a century ago secured a European reputation now provokes a smile. This is
growing upon as. Such a state of things cannot be viewed without anxiety. Physio-
logically, or from the standpoint of the political economist, this wear and tear of
life is serious. In the home-life of to-day the absorbing interests of the outside
world are telling with terrible force. Bat it is in its influence upon the moral and
religious life that the present unrest is to be viewed with the gravest anxiety. The
claims of the day upon a man's thought, energy, time, are not only perilous ; they
are fatal to the true and healthy growth of the soul ; and where there is no growth
there is decay. IL The pbxservativb against the danosbs of thb pbevalent
VRBBST AKD BxoiTBVENT wblch the words of the Master suggest — ** Come ye . . .
and rest awhile." For there is no peril, no necessity, to which the resources of
Divine grace and sympathy are not adjusted. It might seem superfluous to dwell,
tven for a moment, on the imperative need there is for physical rest in these days
when there are ** many coming and going." {R. N, Young, DJ),)
Vers. 8S, 84^— lad Jena, wliea H« eam« ont, aaw mneh peopli^ and wu moTtd
254 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. ^
with compassion. Christ's teaching the world's great need, — I. The psopiiB. 1. The
people saw Him. 2. They knew Him. 3. They ran afoot thither. 4. They out-
ran and reached Him. H. Thb Lobd. 1. He came. 2. He saw. 3. He pitied.
4. He taught. {R. Bonar, D.D.) The compassion of Christ ;— I. Thb compassiow
OF Jesus Chbist. Compassion is a branch or modification of kindness of heart,
or of benevolence. Under the influence of it we enter into the circumstances and
feelings of others; prompted to aid and relieve them. The terra "compassion"
signities to sympathize, or to suffer along with others ; and, therefore, while it is a
most lovely affection, and the exercise of it yields the purest delight on the one
hand ; yet, on tiie other, it is always attended with uneasy feelings and painful
sensations, and that in exact proportion to the strength of our compassion. Hence
you will see, that when compassion is ascribed in Scripture, as it often is, to God,
it must differ in some essential points from human compassion. We are compound
beings, having not only bodies, but rational souls ; and possessing not only the
powers of understanding, vill, and conscience, but instincts, affections, or passions.
But " God is a Spirit" a simple uncompounded being. In Him there is no such
thing as passion ; and, consequently, no uneasy feelings or painful sensations can
attend the exercise of compassion in Him. It is the benevolent and ready tendency
of His gracious nature to pity and relieve the miserable, when this is consistent
with His sovereign and wise pleasure. " I will have compassion on whom I will
have compassion." This ready and benevolent tendency of nature, to pity and
relieve the miserable, was one of the brightest and loveliest features in the character
of the Saviour ; and, from eternity, and as He was a Divine person, it was exactly
the same in Him as in the other persons of the adorable Trinity. But in the person
of Jesus Christ are now closely united both the Divine and human natures ; and,
thus, when He was in this world, in the form of a servant, and acting and suffering
in our stead, compassion in Him partook of the nature and properties both of
Divine and human compassion. He possessed not only the perfections of Godhead,
but the sinless feehngs and affections of manhood. "In all things it behooved
Him to be made like unto His brethren, that He might be a merciful and faithful
High Priest in things pertaining to God." In His present state of glory, He wears
our nature, and will do so for ever ; and He is said to be " touched with the feeling
of our infirmities," yet, as His humbled suffering state is completely at an end. He
is really and tenderly, though not painfully, impressed with our weaknesses, sorrows,
and dangers. But the case was widely different with Him while in this world. It
was then a part of His humbled suffering state to take oar infirmities on Him, to
bear our griefs and carry our sorrows. La His human nature. He felt our sorrows
and wretchedness as far as His sinless and unsinning nature could feel them. He
was then literally " moved with compassion." He felt as a shepherd does for his
straying sheep ; as a compassionate man for suffering humanity ; aa the incarnate
Bon of God, in the character of Redeemer, for perishing sinners. " And Jesos,
when He came out, saw much people, and was moved with compassion toward
them, because they were as sheep not having a shepherd ; and He began to teach
them many things." 11. 1 shall speak of tbs objeois of the Savioub'b compassion : —
L Sinners of the human race were the objects of His Divine and eternal compassion.
In common with the Father and Spirit, " He remembered us in our low estate ; for
His mercy endureth for ever." His compassion was not of the sentimental specula-
tive kind, which leads many to say to the naked and destitute, " Depart in peace,
be ye warmed and filled ; " but to do no more. No. It was real, deep, operative. He
pitied sinners, " and so He was their Saviour," and did and suffered all that
infinite wisdom and justice saw to be necessary to procure eternal redemption for
them. 2. During the time the Saviour was in this world, the condition of sinners
daily moved His compassion. When He saw the widow of Nain following the bier
of her only son to the grave, " He had compassion on her, and said unto her, Weep
not.'* 8. All His people, even the best and hoUest in this world, are the objects
of His compassion. All need it. " Not as though I had already attained, either
were already perfect." •* For in many things we offend all." 4. The w^e^ the
timid and doubting, are peculiarly the objects of His compassion — who are weak in
the faith, who are of a fearful mind, who are harassed with temptations, and borne
down with poverty and oppression, vexations and bereavements. Application : 1.
Do you wish to have objects of c mpassion presented to your view f Think of th«
heathen. 2. This subject reads an important lesson to all ministers of the gospel.
We should be imitators of the compassion of Christ. 3. Will sinners have no
eompasaioB on themselvM? 4. Let weak and timid Christiani be eacovage^
▼L] 8T, MARK, 255
We have set before you the compassionate Saviour. Put your case into His
hands. Trust in His compassion. {Scottish Pulpit.) Pity more unselfis/i
than love : — We often speak of love as the ultimate passion, but there is a
depth even beyond love. For love is largely its own reward, and so may possibl^y-
have an element of imperfection, but pity or compassion has not only all the glory
or power of love, but it forgets itself and its own returning satisfactions, and
goes wholly over into the sufferings of others, and there expends itself, not turning
back or within to say to itself, as does love, " How good it is to love ! " It may be
a factor in the solution of the problem of evil that it calls out the highest measure
of the Divine love ; a race that does not suffer might not have a full revelation of
God's heart. What I Create a race miserable in order to love it 1 Yes, if so
thereby its members shall learn to love one another, and if thus only it may know
the love of its Creator. In the same way it is man's consciousness of misery, or
self-pity, that reveals to him his own greatness — a thought that Pascal turns over
and over. Pity is love and something more: love at its utmost^ love with its
principle outside of itself and therefore moral, love refined to utter purity by ab-
sorption with suffering. A mother loves her child when it is well, but pities it
when it is sick, and how much more is the pity than the love I How much nearer
does it bring her, rendering the flesh that separates her from it a hated barrier
because it prevents absolute oneness, dying out of her own consciousness, and
going wholly over into that of the child whose pains she would thus, as it were,
draw off into her own body I To die with and for one who is loved — as the poets
are fond of showing — is according to the philosophy of human nature. Might not
something like it be expected of God, who is absolute love? And how shall He love
in this absolute way except by union with His suffering children f Such is the
nature of pity ; it is a vicarious thing, which bare love is not, because it creates
identity with the sufferer. {T. T. Munger.) Christ's pity embraced the uncon-
scious suffering of men : — It is not to be thought, however, that this Christly pity
embraced only the conscious suffering of men. It is an undiscerning sympathy
that reaches only to ills that are felt and confessed. We every day meet men with
laughter on their lips, and unclouded brows, who are very nearly the greatest
claimants oi pity. Pity him who laughs but never thinks. Pity the men or women
who fritter away the days in busy idleness, calling it society, when they might read
a book. Pity those, who, without evil intent, are making great mistakes, who live
as though life had no purpose or end, who gratify a present desire unmindful of
future pain. Pity parents who have not learned how to rear and train their
children : pity the children so reared as they go forth unto life with undermined
health and weakened nerves, prematurely wearied of Society, lawless in their dis-
positions, rude and inconsiderate in their manners, stamped with the impress of
chance associations and unregulated pleasures. *' No ! it is not pain that is to be
pitied BO much as mistake, not conscious suffering, but courses that breed future
Buffering. Who then calls for it more than those who have settled to so low and
dull a view of life as not to feel the loss of its higher forms, content with squalor
and ignorance and low achievement or mere sustenance T It is now quite common to
say at the suggestion of some very earnest philanthropists that the poor and de-
graded do not suffer as they seem : that they get to be en rapport with their sur-
roundings, and so unmindful of their apparent misery. This may be so, but even
if the wind is thus tempered to these shorn lambs of adversity, it is no occasion for
withholding pity. Nay 1 the pity should be all the deeper. The real misery here
is, that these poor beings do not look upon their wretched condition with horror
and disgust, that they are without that sense and standard of life which would lead
them to cry, " This is intolerable ; I must escape from it." Hence, the discerning
Christ-like eye will look through all such low contentedness to the abject spirit
behind it, and there extend its pity. Not those who suffer most, but oftener those
who suffer least, are the most pitiable. (Ibid.)
Vers. 85-44. He answered and said onto them, Give ye them to mit.— Miracle
of tlie loaves : — The miracles of Christ ought to be considered ; they are not trifles,
and they ought not to be passed over as if they were the mere commonplaces of a
daily newspaper. Everything that has to do with the Son of God is worthy of
deepest study. What He did at one time is an index to what He will do again when
need arises. He is grand in emergencies, and will rather feed His sheep by miracle
than let them starve. I. Thb quests. 1. Their great number. Feasting on an
imperial scale. Five thousand gathered together, and all as easOy provided for at
266 TEE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. (chap. vr.
if there had been but five I 2. The strange character of the guests. A nondescript
multitude, collected from all classes. Little good could be said of them, except that
they had an ear to hear Jesus preach, and were especially glad if the sermon was
the first course, with loaves and fishes for the second. But Jesus did not wait until
men deserved it, before blessing them. Bad or good, the generous Saviour fed them
all ; and He is willing to do so still. 3. What the guests had in common. All
hungry, and all poor. Yet Christ invites, and He provides everything. We only
need to receive, to partake of the fruit of His compassion. II. The orderliness
OF THE GUESTS. They sat down in ranks. How were they marshalled so well ? The
Lord of Hosts was there ; He knows how to marshal armies. Out of our disorder,
Christ makes His order. However it may seem to us, God's purposes are being
carried out, and at the right time we shall see that all has been done wisely and
well. III. The pare set before thb guests. Bread and fish — a relish as well as
a Eufficiency. Christ is not content to give what is barely enough ; He likes to give
more than is actually required. You shall find in your dish a secret something which
will sweeten all. IV. The waiters at thb fkast. The disciples. He employs men to
minister to men. What condescension ! And what a blessed occupation for those
whom He thus employs. V. The blessing. Nothing without worship and thanks.
Jesus must bless our labour, or it will be fruitless. Always give that look upward
before you begin your work. VI. The eating. When Jesus provides spiritual meat He
intends it to be used — eaten. If you put two canaries in a cage to-night, and in the
morning when they wake they see a quantity of seed in a box, — what will the birds
do ? Will they stop and ask what the seeds are there for? No, but they each reason
thus : *' Here is a little hungry bird, and there is some seed ; these two things go
well together.** And straightway they eat. Even thus, if in your right senses, and
not perverted by sin, you will say, " Here is a Saviour, and here is a sinner ; these
two things go well together ; dear Saviour, save me a sinner. Here is a feast of
mercy, and here is a hungry sinner ; what can that feast be for but for the hungry,
and I am such. Lord, I will even draw near and partake of this blessed feast of
Thine ; and unless Thou come and tell me to begone, I will feast till I am full."
We need fear no repulse. Jesus rejects none from His feast of love. Come and
partake, and the more fully the better pleased will He be. VII. The clearing
AWAY. This teaches economy in the use of the Lord's goods. And when properly
used, not only is there never any lack, but abundance over. Christ's power cannot
be exhausted, no matrer what the demands upon it may be. Come, for all things
are ready. (C H. Spurgeon.) Feeding the Jive thousand : a miracle : — ^A
grand display of — I. Wisdom. 1. A practical discipline of the Church in its great
function towards the world. 2. A demonstration to the world of the principles and
order of the Kingdom of God. II. Power. 1. Creative. 2. Multiplying human
resources. HI. Mercy. 1. Bodily, in the relief of the hunger, consideration for
the weariness of the multitude. 2. Spiritual, in giving spiritual bread, in teaching
dependence upon God, and in enjoining economy of Divine gifts. {A. F. ifuir, ilf.il.)
A parable in a miracle : — No less significant as parable than as miracle. Perhaps,
iadeed, the suggestion of spiritual things was its chief aim. It sets forth the physical
and spiritual dependence of men upon God, and the Father's willingness and power
to provide for His children ; also the nature of principles of Divine mercy to man-
kind are suggested. L The poverty ot the Church. 1. In position. Desert. 2.
In material supplies. 3. In spiritual resource. II. The riches ow Christ. 1.
Administered through the appointed means of grace. 2. Abun4ant to satisfy all
demands. III. Conditions of Divine communication to men. 1. Obedience. 2.
Order. 8. Divinely commissioned service. 4. Prayer. 6. Faith. {Ibid^)
The multitude fed ;— I. The compassion of Christ. For the body as weJi
as the BouL Where a want exists, those who first see it should seek to supply ik
II. Love is rich in resources. If the best use is made of existing means, they will
insensibly multiply. III. Method in beneficence. When we introduce order into
our works, we reflect the law of heaven and imitate the thought of God. IV. Im
God's feasts there is ever enough and to spare. (E. Johnson, M,A.) The
miracle of the loaves : — This miracle (1) teaches us that all feeding is from the
Divine hand ; (2) declares that God feeds men in tenderness and compassion ; (3)
points to those many processes of nature which are (like the disciples here) employed
by Him to convey to us His gifts ; (4) shows that, in God's gifts, the poverty of
human means and natural resources hinders not the fullest satisfaction of our
wants ; (6) illustrates the economy which reigns in God's house : His gifts are
preoiouB in His own sight at least ; (6) teaches the duty of thankful reception of all
▼L] 8T. MARK, 357
He bestows. {R. Oreen.) Christ the Sustainer of life : — Jesus here manifests
Himself as the Sustainer of life. As such — 1. He works by making use of what
appear to us to be ordinary means. No striking exhibition of supernatural power
here. He takes the common food which God's providence had supplied, and in the
distribution of that the whole multitude are fed. Possibly many present never
recognized it to be a miracle at all. 2. He works by the ministry of men. Indeed,
He was less visibly the agent in this miracle than were His disciples. The ignorant
multitude might have imagined that it was they who were feeding them. But the
disciples knew that it was Jesus only, and that they were but His ingtrumente>,
CEtrrying out the miracle only as far as they were acting in simple obedience to Him.
8. He works by order and method. 4. He recognizes that all must be done in
union with the Father. He blesses that wherewith He would work, knowing that
what the Father has blessed must fulfil its purpose. He gives thanks for it, knowing
that to give thanks for a little is the way to make it become more. Application : (a)
By such methods the Eternal Word, by Whom all things were made, sustains the
natural Ufe of the creatures of His hand. He works by the natural laws which He
has Himself provided, and so withdraws Himself from common observation that the
thoughtless multitude fail to recognize His presence, and regard not Him who is
ever for their sakes multiplying by His hidden power our natural sustenance. He
works also by the ministry of men, thereby teaching us our mutual dependence on
one another. This we further learn from the divisions of the human family into
nations and callings, which is part of His Divine order. All this sustaining work of
the Eternal Word is done in union with the Eternal Father, from Whom and in
Whom are all things, ^b) By like methods the same Eternal Word sustains our
spiritual life. By the simple means of grace, by the Communion of Saints, by the
Divine Order of the Church ; by all these, under the blessing of the Father, the
life of His Spirit in men's souls is ever being nourished. (Vernon W. Button, B.A.)
In ranks : — The word here translated " ranks** indicates that the people were seated
in " separate detachments,** with sufficient space left to move freely between them.
According to another etymology, however, it signifies *♦ a bed of herbs or flowers,"
and its usage would then illustrate St. Mark's picturesqueness, the bright Eastern
costumes of the compact masses upon the brilliant green having suggested to an eye-
witness a close resemblance to a bright and well-ordered garden, (if. M. Luckock^
D.D.) Christ's ability to do much with little : — It is true that we have but our
five coarse barley loaves and two small fishes ; in themselves they are useless. Well,
then, let us give them to Christ. He can multiply them, and can make them more
than enough to feed the five thousand. A cup of cold water — what a little thing it
is ! Well, but will the world ever forget one cup of cold water which David would
not diink, but poured upon the earth, because his men had risked their lives to
fetch it him ; or the other cup of cold water which Sir Philip Sidney, although
dying and athirst, gave to the wounded soldier who eyed it eagerly at the battle of
Zutphen T A grain of mustard seed — can anything be smaller ? Well, but when
Zinzendorf was a boy at school he founded amongst his schoolfellows a little guild
which he called the " Order of the Grain of Mustard Seed,*' and thereafter that
seedling grew into the great tree of the Moravian Brotherhood whose boughs were a
blessing U> the world. The widow's mite I When they laughed at St. Theresa
when she wanted to build a great orphanage, and had but three shillings to begin
with, she answered, ♦• With three shillings Theresa can do nothing ; but with God
and her three shillings there is nothing which Theresa cannot do.'* Do not let us
imagine, then, that we are too poor, or too stupid, or too ignorant, or too obscure
to do any real good in the world wherein God has placed us. Is there a greater
work in this day than the work of education? Would you have thought that the chief
impulse to that work, whereon we now annually spend so many millions of taxation,
was given by a poor, illiterate Plymouth cobbler — John Pounds ? Has there been a
nobler work of mercy in modern days than the purification of prisons ? Yet that
was done by one whom a great modem writer sneeringly patronized as *• the dull,
good man, John Howard.'* Is there a grander, nobler enterprise than
missions ? The mission of England to India was started by a humble, itinerant
shoemaker, William Carey. These men brought to Christ their humble efforts,
their five loaves, and in His hand they multiplied exceedingly. (Arehdeaeor
Farrar.) Looked up to Heaven, and blessed : — The king of the island of TooboM
avowed an attachment to Christianity. In 1823 he went on board a British vessel
to pay a visit to the captain, and unconsciously conveyed a very forcible practica
reproof to the party. He sat down at table to partake of some refreshment ; but
17
258 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [ohaf. n.
although food was placed before him, he made a very obserrable pause ; and, when
asked why he did not begin, replied that he was waiting till a blessing had been
asked upon the food. The reproof was felt, and the party were ashamed at being
rebuked by a man whose intellectual attainments they considered far inferior to their
own. They rose, and the king asked a blessing before they commenced the repast.
Carefulness even in small things : — Here observe^l. God wastes nothing — in nature,
in providence, in grace. 2. Thrift is duty. The wasteful have as little to give as
the penurious. 3. Husbandry of joys is wisdom. Too late to begin trying to
" gather up the fragments " when calamity has come. 4. Husbandry of time is
duty. The men who do most in this world are those who waste least time. 5.
Those who give, get more than they part with. Lend a boat to Christ, and you get
a miraculous draught of fishes. Give him five loaves, and He will give you twelve
baskets of fragments back. He that saves his money loses it ; but he that loses it
for love's sake, will keep it. {R. Glover,) Feeding of five thousand : — In this
narrative we may note the following points — I. The compassion and powee of
Chbist webe fob the bodies and minds of men. II. The excitement of expecta-
HON pbepabes fob the beception of good. III. Matebial objects and human
agency ABE employed IN THE COMMUNICATION OP DlVINE GIFTS. IV. ObDEB SHOULD BB«
OBSEBVED, GRATITUDE EXPBESSED, AND LIBERALITY BE COMBINED WITH FBUGALITY, IN
coMMOM MEALS. (J^. H. Godwin.) Our duty to the multitude: — Let us inquire
what that part is, which belongs to us, analogous to that which devolved upon the
disciples ; and let us learn from the three lessons which are furnished, to magnify
and exalt that saving mercy, of which we have been so long and so abundantly
partakers. I. We learn from the text, in the first place, then, a call to duty. The
advancement of the kingdom of Christ is, or ought to be, the first object of every
sincere Christian. II. But we learn, in the second place, a call to paith. There is
one essential difference, without doubt, between the case of the disciples and our own ;
the difference, I mean, of miraculous interposition. In the case of the disciples, a
miracle was necessary ; in our case, all is left to us. Did I say, all ? — all exertion,
all prayer, and all faith ; but the blessing must unquestionably be added from above,
or all is in vain. UI. But I am anxious to summon your attention to the third
and last lesson of the text, namely, its call fob encoubagement. How great is our
encouragement I Like the disciples, we have the Saviour, to whom we may look to
bless the means we use, and to make the results glorious. {W. Harrison, M.A.)
The multitude fed in the wilderness : — I. The mibacle. 1. Power over the material
world. This to material beings like ourselves is a concern of no small moment.
Have the things around us any Master ? If so, who is He ? " The Lord Christ,"
answers the gospel. It follows that He can never be at a loss for an instant to
punish us ; also that the stores of nature are to us just what He pleases to make
them. In the material world, as in the spiritual. His people are safe. 2. Notice also
in this miracle the little value which Christ puts on sensual gratifications, on luxuries
and what we call comforts. We have seen His power ; it was evidently boundless.
A word from His hps could have spread before this multitude all the delicacies of
the East. But in calling His omnipotence into exercise for them, the only food He
provides is the mean fare of the humblest fisherman. II. Let us pass on now to
jL'HE feelings WITH WHICH THIS MIBACLE WAS WBOUGHT. 1. One of thcSO WBS
evidently a consciousness of power. Not that it was wrought ostentatiously, for
the purpose of exciting astonishment or applause ; it was a work of pure compassion,
with no vain show whatever in it ; nay, with a concealment of power, rather than
a display of it. 2. We have thus looked at the author of this miracle as God ; but
He is as really man as He is God, and he feels and acts here like a dependent man ;
for mark further the spirit of devotion He manifests. " When He had taken the
6ve loaves and the two fishes," the evangelist says, '• He looked up to heaven and
blessed." Why this bringing of devotion to bear upon the trifles of life ? Because
God is in all these trifles. True reUgion is not an act, but a habit ; not an impulse
or emotion, but a principle ; not a sudden torrent, produced by the snows of winter
or the thunder-storm of summer ; it is a stream ever running, varying indeed in its
breadth and depth, but from the moment of its rise, ever flowing on till it reaches
the ocean of everlasting life. Banish God from your meals, or habitually from any-
thing, and you might as well banish Him from everything. 3. Notice also the
munificence, the Uberality, with which our Lord spread this wide board for this
vast multitude. *' The two fishes divided He among them all ; and they did all
■eat and were filled.'* None were excluded, none were controlled, none went away
dissatisfied. There was enough and to spare. And think not, brethren, that yon
Ti.] ST, MARK,
«an ever exhaust the grace, or diminish the falness, of your Almighty Savionr.
in. The time chosen fob this muuclb — *• When the day was now far passed.'*
The disciples were thus taught that they could do nothing for the hungry crowd.
This mode of proceeding runs through all his dealings with us, whether in provi-
dence or in grace. He humbles us •* under His mighty hand," before He exalts us ;
He brejE^ our hearts, before He heals. lY. And this is nearly the same truth that
our fourth subject will suggest to us — thk piiACB wherb this mibaclb was pbb-
roBMBD. You discover then at once, brethren, the lesson we have to learn here—
our richest supplies, our best comforts, are not the growth of our worldly prosperity,
nor often the companions of our worldly ease ; they come to us in situations and
cmder circumstances, which seem to cut us off from every comfort and supply.
Think of the deserts in which you have wandered. Outward affliction has been one
of these. Spiritual sorrow, too, conviction of sin, is another wilderness ; a dark
and fearful one ; none on earth more fearful. 0 never let us fear the desert, as
long as we are there with the Lord Jesus Christ. (C Bradley, M.A.) Food for
the million: — I. Jesus Christ affobds us all oub pood for bodily sustenance.
II. Needful food is ensured to His true disciples. III. See how Christ
would elave us receivb our food. 1. With thankfulness and decorum. 2. With
generous distribution of it to others. 3. With frugal care of it. IV. The miracle
IS ▲ TYPE OF GOSPEL PROVISIONS FOR THE SOULS OF MEN. 1. Christ giveS US
spiritual food ; as truth, righteousness, and love. 2. He distributes it through His
ministering servants, and it multiplies in their hands. 3. It is superabundantly
enough for all mankind. Therefore — (1) Come and eat with all thankfulness. (2)
Freely hand it round to others. {Gangregational Pulpit.) Christ's feast free: —
Christ's banqueting-hall was an open field, there were no walls or doors, or persons
guarding the entrance : thus free is His feast of love at this moment. Whosoever
will, let him come. {G. H. Spurgeon.) Order out of disorder : — The original
word used by Mark represents them as divided, like beds of flowers, with walks
between, so that as a gardener can go up and down, and water all the plants, so
the waiters at the feast could conveniently give every man his share of bread and
his piece of fish without confusion. They sat down in ranks by fifties and by
hundreds. Things do not look so orderly now, do they, as we see Christ through
His Church feeding the multitude ? There is a good work going on in the North of
England, there is a revival in Scotland, there is an awakening in Ireland, there is
a stir in the Midland Counties ; but does it not look very like a scramble ? Do we
not seem to tumble over one another, instead of doing our work in soldierly
order? A good work springs up in one place on a sudden, while religion is
dying out in other quarters ; the people are satiated yonder, and are starving
only a little way oS. We do not get at the masses as a whole, or see the Church
progress in all places. Let us not, however, judge too hastily, for Jesus makes
His order out of our disorder. We see a piece of the puzzle, but when the whole
shall be put together and we shall see the end from the beginning, I warrant you
we shall see that Christ's great feast of mercy, with its myriads of guests, has
been conducted on a principle of order as mathematically accurate as that
which guides the spheres in their courses. (Ibid.) Salvation for us: — Why
flows the river, but to make glad your fields ? Why sparkles the fountain, but to
quench your thirst ? Why shines the sun, but for your eyes to be blessed with his
light ? As you breathe the air around you because you feel that it must have been
made for you to breathe, so receive the full, free salvation of Jesus Christ. (Ibid.)
Four thousand men to be fed in the wilderness : — My brethren, the difficulty urged
by the disciples is one not of begone times only. I. It is a difficulty arising from
numbers, and it is a difficulty arising from place. When from any unhappy cause,
such as that terrible and most wicked war which is at this time raging in the new
world, the supplies of trade and commerce are suddenly cut oS from a large
portion of our countrymen, how sad a meaning is given even in a Uteral sense to
the inquiry in the text ! WTiat a burden is thrown upon private charity, what a
burden is thrown upon the public resources, by a cry for bread, for the food of the
body, going up from destitute thousands ! And are there not some among us
capable of feeUng the same weight of difficulty in reference to things spiritual ?
And when our thoughts take a wider range, and pass towns and cities in our own
land where the population is counted not by hundre s, but by tens of thousands ;
when we think of that aggregate of ignorance, ungodliness, and sin, which a popu-
lation of a hundred thousand or of a million of souls ust present to the eye of a holy
and heart-searching God, and then compare with it the few faithful ministers and
260 TEE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap, n,
servants of God who are set to dispense the bread of life amongst that mighty mcfc
titude. The least we expect of the disciples is their own faith, their own obedience.
If the prospect is discouraging, it must not be made more so by the faithlessess ol
the faithful : they at least must eat of Christ's bread, and assist Him in the distri-
bution (so far as it will go) to others. II. We have to think also of the diflBculty
arising from the place ; from the disparity between the scene which was before
them and the food which was wanted. Bread here in the wilderness. When we
apply this to spiritual things, two remarks will suggest themselves. There is an
apparent contrariety between heavenly supplies and our earthly condition. We are
here in a wilderness. There is an incongruity between the place and the promise.
Eest in a changing world, happiness in a troublous world, the ideas are inharmonious
and discordant. I appeal to some of you, my brethren, to testify that, though
there may be contrariety in the ideas, there is no contradiction. Some of you have
found that, though all else changes, God changes not ; that, though all else ia
unrest, in Christ there is peace. You can already attest the truth of His words,
"These things I have spoken unto you, that in Me ye might have peace. In the
world ye sball have tribulation : bat be of good cheer, I have overcome the world."
(C. J. Vaufjhan, B.I).) Important lessons from ChrisVs procedure: — 1. The
poverty of Christ. 2. The voluntary character of His privations. 3. His riches for
others are brought into contrast with the poverty of His own estate. 4. The wants
of the soul are first to be attended to — as most important. 5. Christ should be
trusted with our temporal affairs — He has sympathy and ability. 6. Christ wiD
succour us under the difficulties and hardships felt in following Him. 7. It is
when the sagacity and power of man are confessedly inadequate that Christ inter-
poses. 8. It is in using our natural resources that Christ communicates His
gracious aid. 9. It is the blessing of Christ which makes anything serve its proper
end. 10. The richness and pleasures of an entertainment do not depend on the
costliness of the provision. 11. We can never come to Christ at a wrong time.
12. " The bread of hfe." " The living bread." {J.Stewart.) Miraculous feed-
ing of five thousand: — I. A striking view of the Saviour's tender compassion.
Eegard*^it in connection with — 1. The disciples. " When I sent you without purse
and script and shoes, lacked ye anything ? " And they said, "Nothing." Now they
have a new token of His fidelity and love. 2. The multitude. (1) The feehng with
which they were regarded. (2) The cause of this feeling — " They were as sheep,'
&c. (3) Its consequences — " And He began to teach them many things." II. Thb
display He gave of His Almighty power. 1. There was no misgiving. 2. There
was no confusion. 3. There was no parade. 4. There was no deficiency. 5. There
was no waste. {Expository Outlines.) The lad's loaves and fishes : — This
miracle is remarkable — I. For the extraordinary number of witnesses therb
WERE to it. II. For the mysierious peculiarity of the process in working.
HI. Fob the extraordinary affluence of its products. IV. Fob the profound
fMPRESSiON it made, AND IS YET MAKING. {€. S. Eobinsou, D.D.) Providential
supply of food : — Bishop Bascom was preaching on one occasion in a cabin which
was at once church and dwelling. In the midst of the sermon his host, who sat
near the door, suddenly rose from his seat, snatched the gun from its wooden
brackets upon which it lay against the joist, went hastily out, fired it off, and
returning, put the gun in its place, and quietly seated himself to hear the remainder
of the sermon. After service was ended, the bishop inquired of the man the mean-
ing of his strange conduct. '• Sir," said he, "we are entirely out of meat, and I
was perplexed to know what we should give you for dinner ; and it was preventing me
from enjoying the sermon, when God sent a flock of wild geese this way. I
haipened to see them, took my gun, and killed two at a shot. My mind felt e?iy,
and I enjoyed the remainder of the sermon with perfect satisfaction.*' (St 8.
Teacher.)
Vers. 45-51. And straightway He constrained His disciples to get Into the shlp.--
Need of constraint from Christ: — This does cot mean that our Lord forced His
disciples' wills, but that from being unwilling He made them willing to do as He
desired. Reasons why they were loath at first to take ship without Him. 1.
Because His society was very amiable, sweet, and comfortable to them, as they had
hitherto found by experience ; therefore they were unwilling to part from Him,
though but for a time. 2. It seemed a matter against reason for Him to stay
behind alone in a desert place, especially as night was coming on ; therefore they
irere onwilling to leave Ham there. 3. They knew there was in that plaoe no othei
OHAP. yi.] BT. MARK. 261
«hip or boat besides the one in which they were to pass over (John ▼!. 22) ; therefore
they would have had Him go over with them in the same ship. 4. It may be also
that they were afraid to pass over without Him, lest, if a storm should arise, they
should be in danger. Once before, they had been in danger of drowning when Christ
was with them ; much more, then, might they now fear the worst, if they went
without Him. (G. Fetter.) Backward to yield obedience : — By nature the best
of us are very slack and backward to yield obedience to the will of Christ, especially
in such things as oppose our natural reason, will, and affections ; in such com-
mandments of Christ, we have much ado to yield obedience, and are very hardly
brought to it. Though we have the express word and commandment of Christ, yet
when the things commanded are contrary to our reason and will, we draw back, and
are loath to obey Christ's will. We are by nature so wedded and addicted to our
own reason, will, and affections, that we find it exceedingly hard to captivate them
in obedience to the will of Christ as we ought. 1. Labour to see and bewail this
our natural corruption. 2. Pray to Christ to subdue it, and to frame us by the
power of His Spirit to more willing and cheerful obedience. (Ibid.) The Christian
life: — I. We mat take this as a picture op the state of Chbist's Church between
THE Ascension and Pentecost. The disciples were then for the first time launched
without Him upon the sea of this world — powerless as yet to run the race set before
them, and in darkness and uncertainty as to what might be their Master's grand
design. But His eye noted from above their comfortless condition, and soon He
came to them in the person of the Holy Spirit, to be not only their far-off Inter-
cessor, but their present Guide and Helmsman, piloting them to the bright shore
of eternal life. II. We may also see in the little fishino-boat, tossed on the
DARK and stormy WAVE, A LIVELY IMAOB Ol* THE ChUROH UNDEB THE PRESENT DISPEN-
SATION. There is usually in the life of each individual Christian a period of striving
after grace, life, and power, which have not yet been communicated to the soul.
But Christ will come it the soul remain stedfast. And then shall all things go well.
The vessel, freighted with the presence of the Incarnate God, shall no longer be
driven back by tiie violence of the winds, but make her way surely, if slowly, to the
haven where she would be. IH. This incident may, moreover, be regarded as
TYPICAL OF Christ's second advent. Much darkness and obscurity and perplexity
now — the necessary tests of faithfulness and stabihty. But the day is at hand when
all things shall be manifested in the light of the Divine Presence. Watch and
prepare for that, by weaning the affections from earthly things and fixing them on
Christ ; also by exerting yourself to bring others into such a state as that they
shall be found of Him in peace, without spot, and blameless. {Dean Goulburn.)
Toiling in rowiny : — I. Analogies in the Christian's voyage through life. 1.
How many earnest truth-seekers have been thus tossed by doubts and perplexities,
with scarce one ray of light to guide them, 2. How many in the hour of spiritual
awakening have passed through similar experience. 3. How many reahze this
amid the difficulties and temptations of life. 4. And others learn it in the hour of
sorrow and suffering. II. Consolations. 1. Christ knows all. 2. Christ loves
ceaselessly. 3. Christ prays constantly. 4. Christ comes with deliverance at the
right time. {M. Hutchison.) Religious despondency : — This word •' toiling " is
quite inadequate to express the full force of the term. One of the oldest of English
versions has it, "harassing themselves." Tyndale renders it, "troubled." Alford
suggests, " distressed," which is the best word of all, and the one which our new
revision adopts — " distressed in rowing." Those skilled fishermen evidently had a
hard time of it. They needed to put forth the most violent and persistent efforts
in order to keep the small boat from being dashed to pieces before the hurricane.
And of course they became positively tired out, and their faith had something like
a melancholy failure. In religious experience we are often more disheartened than
we need to be, because some perverse disposition misleads us to contrast our states
of low enjoyment with remembered disclosures of high exhilaration under extra-
ordinary excitement. The midnight of commonplace rowing appears more gloomy
and unwelcome just because the previous noon was so abundantly blessed with gifts
and graces. Our favours seem hopelessly dull, simply because they were so lately
revived into unusual strain, and are now worn out by the exalted indulgence. The
changes begun in the circumstances are continued in our bodies, and so these moods
grow reciprocally depressing. What we mourn over as base coldness, sometimes is
nothing but natural reaction. Oftentimes our most he.ivy seasons of despondency
are brought about by mere physical illness, or unusual prostration from distemper
or overwork. ((7. 8, Robinson, D,D.) Christ knows who liave need of Him :—>
262 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap, n,
** He saw them toilmg/' so we read, and then we reflect how little reason these men
had for being melancholy. " In our fluctuations of feeling," says picas Samuel
Butherford, •' it is well to remember that Jesus admits no change in His affections ;
your heart is not the compass Christ saileth by.** Our vicissitudes toss only them-
selves, and overturn only our pride, and that not perilously. Jesus' care remains
steady. If it be dark, and He has not yet arrived, we may be always certain it ia
because He pauses among the trees to pray. We are to keep working and watching ;
for when He sees we are ready to receive Him, He will start directly towards us on
the sea. (Ibid.) Christ was seen in the storm : — There was more dread than joy
in the presence of the Saviour. They would not have been so much afraid had they
been expecting Him, but the troubles of the night had made them forget His promise.
Their terror is not, however, a thing altogether unknown in the deeper religious
experience. For when a trouble comes upon the pious Christian, what is felt most
sorely is not the outward calamity which his neighbours see, but an inward wound
which comes from the conviction that God has actually forsaken him and delivered him
over to the assaults of an unknown hostile spirit-power armed against him. There
is no lesson harder to understand than that troubles are not signs of the wrath of God.
Had the disciples seen that it was Jesus who was coming to them through the storm,
they would not have been troubled ; could we know that behind the storms of life
there is the Saviour Himself near us, we should not have that vague yet bitter sense
of the presence of a spirit of evil who is seeking to overwhelm us. (T. M. Lindsay,
D.D.) Christ^s absence : — I. Separation is sometimes required to prevent improper
sympathy. II. Difficulties are to be expected, and weakness experienced, in the
Christian course. HI. Appearances awaken needless fear through inconsideration.
IV. Christ speaks to encourage, and comfort, and give peace. {J. H, Godwin.)
The voice of Jesus in the storm : — The design of religion is to make us of good
cheer. We are surrounded by causes of alarm, but the gospel bids us fear not.
And that which alone can enable us to be of good cheer amid sorrows is the presence
of God our Sa\iour. I. The disciples in a stobm. 1. It is most likely tiiat they
did not understand the reason of the request ^ver. 45). But they were commanded,
and this was sufficient. It is the duty of Christians to do many things the reason
of which is hidden from them. Our duty may even sometimes oppose our prefer-
ences. However delightful the company of Jesus must have been, the disciples
gained far more by being obediently absent than rebelliously near. Obedience is
the best kind of nearness. 2. The evening on which the disciples embarked was
calm and fair. But the finest day may be followed by the stormiest night. 3. The
frightened disciples in their storm- driven boat fitly represent the circumstances by
which beHevers are often tried — disappointments, losses, cares, Ac. Christian
discipleship does not exempt from such storms (1 Cor. x. 13 ; 1 Peter iv. 12, v. 9)
These storms may often rise against us, even when acting in direct obedience to the
will of Christ. No difficulty must daunt us in the way of obedience. 4. While the
disciples are battling with the winds and the waves, where is Jesus ? (ver. 46). But
they were not forgotten, nor are we. He watched them in the tempest, and He sees
His storm-driven followers now. 5. When He sees the fitting season has arrived,
He will appear for their deliverance (ver. 48). He may delay to reveal Himself,
but not to succour and support them. 6. When He did appear to His disciples, the
manner of His coming was so unexpected and strange that, instead of joy, their
first emotion was terror. Like the disciples, we often mistake the form and pre-
sence of our Lord I II. The tbbboe of the disciples allayed by the ENCorBAoiNo
VOICE DF Jesus. '* It is I ; be not afraid I " In eveiy event, important or trivial,
in the estimation of man, He speaks, and says, " It is I." Becognize Christ more
vividly in all your troubles. Look away from inferior agencies, or you will be sure
to fear. The assurance of Christ's presence involves everything needed to calm the
fears, and soothe the sorrows of afflicted beHevers. 2. It was the voice of power.
3. Of love. 4. Of wisdom. The faith which recognizes in all events the voice of
Jesus is the true alchemy which transmutes all baser substances into gold. The
storm is terrible in appearance onlv. 6. The voice which speaks to us in the storm
its that of One who has Himself been tempest-tost. What strong consolation is
thus presented to afflicted disciples 1 Shall we wonder or repine at affliction ? 6.
The disciples had often witnessed the efficacy of His voice. Nor is it altogether
strange to us. Has never spoken in vain. All anxieties should subside at the
sound. What could He say that He has left unsaid to calm our apprehensions 7
Believe the promises, and there will be a great calm. Conclusion : To those who
are not disciples He does not say, " Be of good cheer 1 " You are in awful peril. He
OSAF. rt]
ST. MARK, WS
Is only with His disciples In the storm. No comfort for you while continuing " a«
enemy to God." Your condition and character must be changed. Let your eye
Mze upon Jesua I He offers to screen you from the danger, and says to all who
flee to Him for safety, "Be of good cheer! " (Nimman HaU, LL.B.) ToUing in
rmoing:—!. Chbist sbbs all the stbugglbs op human life. The greatest battlea
are not those fought on the plains of the world and recorded in history, but those
fought in courts and alleys by unfortunate men and women, who have to weather
the storm of life without a friend. Christ sees every man's circumstances and
heroism, &c. II. Christ sees all the struggles of Christian life. They are
numerous hard, continuous. He does not permit us to see all the difficulties ol
the future'. Ply your oars. Watch and pray. III. In these struggles, human
Aj«i> Divine, Christ does not come to us at once. There was time for the devel-
opment of character, for the exercise of faith, patience, &c. Christians often com-
plain that Christ's comforts do not come sooner. It is not when we will, but
Divine love is never late. There is a time for succour. Times and seasons are
known to Him. IV. How His coming affects us. He did not perform the
miracle first, but said, " Be of good cheer." The Master's " good cheer " suited to
all classes and conditions of His disciples, especially those who are liable to be
dull morbid, despondent, fearful. (W. M.Statham.) The disciples in the storm:—
What is it which so often trouliles our faith in the Divine promises ? It is the fact
that God does not direct events and things for the triumph of His cause, and that
that cause seems often to be vanquished by fatality. This is a contradiction which
confounds us. God wants truth to prevail ; He commands His Church to announce
It to the world; His design is here express and manifest, and when, to serve Him,
His Church puts itself to the work, God permits circumstances to array themselves
against it and hinder it. The wind was contrary I How many times have believers
felt this ! In the first centuries it was that periodical succession of implacable per-
secutions, scattering the flocks, immolating the shepherds, annihilating the Holy
Scriptures, destroying in one dark hour the harvest of which the world had seen
the admirable firstf ruits. The wind was contrary I At the close of the Middle
Ages, and under the influence of the scandals displayed in Rome, it was that
mocking and profound unbelief which secretly undermined the Church to such a
degree that, without a religious awakening, the world would seem to become
heathen again under the breath of the Renaissance. The wind was contrary I
Later on came the ardent and generous passions of the eighteenth century letting
loose on the worid a formidable tempest. In our days listen. Is the wind which
comes down from the icy heights of positive science favourable to our cause? Is
the stream which comes to us from the springs of our democratic societies sympa-
thetic ? Are you not often scared at seeing all the hostile powers which combine
against Christianity to-day? Doctrines openly materialistic, grave or cynical
atheism, harsh and disparaging criticism, rightful complaints too well justifled by
the infidelities of believers, prejudices, misunderstandings, blind passions,— -do not
all these announce, even to the least clear-sighted, formidable storms to which our
actual strifes are only as child's play ? Why does God allow His cause to be thus com-
promised? Why does not He, who is the Master of the waves, pacify the storms?
That is one of those grievous questions which none of us can escape. Scripture
replies to it in some measure. It has pleased God, says St. Paul, to choose the
foolish things of the world to confound the wise. One would say that He wishes
to show that the triumph of the gospel expects nothing from external things, from
the impulse which comes from popular currents. We forget that Christ overcame
the world only by raising against Him all its resistance, that the cross has been a
sign of triumph only because It has been an instrument of punishment, and that In
its apparent impotence and ignominy we must seek the secret of Its power. The
wind was contrary I But this was not the only obstacle the disciples encountered.
Jesus Christ comes to them, but not tQl the fourth watch of the night, that Is to
Bay, near to the morning. TUl then, we might say, He has forgotten them. It is
to the last hour that He comes to succour them. Hlstor}- Is like a night stretching
across the ases ; In all times believers are called to wait for God's intervention, but
God delays to come, and that is the supreme trial of faith, greater perhaps than
the opposition of men and even of persecution. The first Christians believed to
the immediate return of Christ ; that hope has often filled a generation of believers
wltii enthusiasm. Already they saw the dawn breaking, they saluted the King ol
glory who came to deliver the Church and to subdue humanity. A dangeroui
excitement, a transitory fever to which imagination had more share than faJih
iU TEE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. n.
On coming out of those dreams, the enervated Bonl often despairs, and in »
paroxysm of gloomy discouragement it donbts the truth, because it no longer ex-
pects its triumph. It must be said that God, who is the Master of time, has
reserved to Himself to fix its duration, and that we are absolutely forbidden to bind
it in our measures and limits. Now what is true of the history of humanity applies
equally to each of us. When the night of trial begins, we want deliverance to be
announced during the first watch. "Why does God remain inactive and silent ? Why
those long delays and those unanswered prayers? Why that tranquil, slow,
regular course of second causes behind which the First Cause remains mute and
without effect ? The violent emotions of great trials are less formidable than thai
pitiless monotony which enervates and wears out the secret springs of the soul.
Now, precisely because this danger is so real we must forecast it. Let us know,
beforehand, that that trial is in store for us. If God delays, wait for Him. At
last Christ draws near. He walks on the waves before the disciples, but they,
frightened, see in Him only a phantom, and emit a cry of terror. All the traits of
this narrative may seem those of a striking allegory, and this last still more than
the others. Often Christ has appeared to humanity as a phantom. That pure and
holy image, all whose features unite in the eyes of faith to form the most ravishing
harmony, that face which surpasses all those of the sons of men, and which tra-
verses the centuries surrounded by a halo of righteousness, of purity, of infinite
mercy, that being at once so real and so ideal, so real that none has left on earth
a deeper impression, so ideal that no light has made His pale, that Christ has
often awoke in those who beheld Him for the first time only mistrust, hostility,
mockery, and more than one generation has hailed Him with a repellent cry. Let
the writings of the most ancient adversaries of Christianity be read. Let one page
be quoted to me in which a trace is recognized of the moral impression which the
life of Christ produces to-day on every sincere conscience. We believe that they
never contemplated Him ; that their look was never stayed on Him in an hour of
justice. They had the Gospels, they had the living testimony of the Church, and the
history of Jesus was not yet disfigured by the iniquities of its defenders. It does
not matter, they saw Him only through the thick cloud of prejudice and hatred.
It was a phantom they fought against. The Christ of Celsus and of Julian, the
Christ whom anti-Christian satire mocks, is a silly Jew, whose greatness no one
suspects for a moment. Our century has seen the same facts reproduced in an
entirely different form. To what did that vigorous and learned attack against
Christianity tend, so cleverly led by Strauss, if not to make a myth of Christ and
His work ; that is to say, a mere conception of the human consciousness ? Now a
mythical personage is a phantom and nothing more. The supernatural Christ was
to them only a phantom, and they would never have believed then that one day
they would find light and peace at His feet. But in the midst of the gloom which
envelops the disciples a voice is heard. Jesus Christ has spoken. He has said,
" It is I ; be not afraid." The apostles recognize that voice, and in the midst of
the storm their hearts are penetrated with a Divine peace. It is the same at all
seasons. There is an incomparable emphasis in Christ's sayings. Yesterday we
were in trouble and anguish, to-day we hear and are subdued. Explain who can
this phenomenon. It is a fact for which witnesses would rise to-day in all parts of
the world. Here is the tempest of doubt. Here around you and into your very
soul another night descends, envelops and penetrates you. It is the night of
remorse, the memory of a guilty past which haunts and besets the human con-
science. Here is the hour of suffering. Finally, here is death, death which for
many of our travelling companions is the extreme end and the separation without
return. He has spoken. Will you pay attention to this ? I do not say, **He has
reasoned, He has argued. He has proved." I simply say, " He has spoken 1 " Now
H is found that everywhere and in every age there are men who are enlightened,
soothed, consoled by this voice, and to whom it gives an invincible conviction, an
immortal hope I {E. Bersier, D.D,) The contrary currents of lije : — The winds
always seem contrary to those who have any high and earnest purpose in life.
Careless sailors afloat on the currents, with do aim but the pleasure of motion, who
can watch the play of the wavelets, and hear their musical splash, or gaze on" the
tints that gleam on the opalescent sea, find life a pastime — for a time. But those
who have a course, a compass, a pilot, and are in haste on the errand of heaven,
are kept to the full strain of vigilance lest winds should sweep them backwards ;
and often hand-weary, heart-weary, they are tempted to give up all effort to keep
their course, content to drift with the current which sets back again to the for-
«HAP. vx.] ST. MARK. 265
eaken shore. An earnest purpose alone gives us the measure of the influences which
surround us. I. We are able when thinking over this great matter, a life-course
and its issues, to remind ourselves of the great life-couese to which the winds
WEBB EVER coNTBABT, which Something seemed always to sweep back from its end.
Without question, life is a hard matter to the earnest ; the night is dark, the toil
hard. Often the main support of faith is to look steadily to Him to whom the
night was darker, the toil harder, and who is seated now a radiant Conqueror at
the right hand of the throne of God. II. Let us look at the broad tact of tub
CONTRARINESS OF THE 0UBBENT8 OF LIFE. I am uot Speaking of storms, but of the
constant steady set of the current, which seems to keep us under perpetual strain.
With some there is a lifelong struggle to fulfil the duty of some uncongenial calling,
which yields no fair field of activity to the powers which they are conscious are
stirring within. There are others who are crossed in their dearest hopes ; life is
one long, sad regret. There are others with a weak and crippled body enshrining
a spirit of noblest faculty ; with intense ardour pent up within. III. The beason
AND BIOHTNESS OF THIS C0NTBABINE8S OF THE CURRENTS OF LIFE. God SetS things agalust
QS to teach ns to set ourselves against things, that we may master them. We are kings,
and have to conquer our kingdom. IV. The Master is watching how the lesson
PB0BPEB8. Not from on high ; not from a safe shore ; but there in the midst of the
storm He is watching, nay is walking, drawing nigh, in the very crisis of the danger
and the strain. He enters the ship ; the danger is over. A force stronger than the
cnrrent is there to bear us swiftly to the shore. {J. B. Brown, B.A.) Toiling in
rowing : — I. The effect of rapid transitions in outwabd circumstances upon in-
TBBNAL beligious expebience. That had been a great day to these disciples. Their
enthusiasm had been aroused by the magnificent miracle. But out here on the
water they had no cheering alleviation of their work. Wet to the skin by the
spray, cut to the bone by the wind, we cannot wonder that they speedily became
fatigued and disgusted. IL The close and somewhat humiliating connection
BETWEEN wistful bouls AND WEABT BODIES which always has to be recognized. Our
most heavy seasons of despondency are often brought about by mere physical ill-
ness, or unusual prostration from our work. III. That mebe fbames of desolate
FEBIINO OXTB BT NO MEANS A BELEASE FROM THE PBESSUBB OF DILIGENT DUTT. They
oould not let the boat drift. They had to use all their skill. IV. Jesus Chbist,
EVEN IN DABENESS, KNOWS WHO HAVE NEED OF HiM. Y. ThAT JeSUS GhBIST
SOMETIMES DELAYS HiS COMING TO BELIEVEBS TILL He IS SUBE OF A WELCOME. (C S.
Robinson^ D.D.) Christ walking on the sea : — The sovereignty of Christ over
the forces of inanimate natnre is the general truth illustrated in this miracle,
which may be taken with the former one, also wrought upon the sea, recorded two
chapters before. He made the liquid waves a pavement for His feet ; at His com-
mand their fury ceased ; as He stepped into the tossing boat there was a great calm.
We may look at this sovereignty of Christ over the sea in three ways — Uterally,
spiritually, prophetically, in each case drawing a lesson. Let me try in a few words
to show this. 1. Literally. There can be no force of nature, however untameable
by man, which is beyond His control If it was so in the day of His humiliation,
how much more bo now in His glory and universal sovereignty. Under His rule
now must lie all the physical elements and forces which play such an important
part in the lives and fortunes of as all. Think of the importance of this fact.
There are times when nature seems tyrannical, remorseless. The earthquake
crushes hundreds of sleeping families beneath the ruins of their shattered dwel-
lings. The volcano scorches and blasts the fair scenes of human industry. The
eiorm strews the shore with wrecks and corpses ; the hungry sea swallows up its
thousands of victims. Pestilence depopulates whole districts ; drought and mildew
make barren the fields, and leave the tillers of the soil to starve. Explosions,
conflagrations, collisions, great catastrophes to life and property, happen in spite
of all precautions, and scatter around wounds, and misery, and death. It might
seem as if nature went on its reckless course, heedless of human cries, rushing
along on the iron lines of fate, on its fickle wheels of chance, without pity and
without purpose. Here comes in the first lesson of the miracle. Despair, fear, even
inquietude, may be banished, if all nature be in the hand of Him who died to
redeem us. 2. Let us view the miracle spiritually. Nature's storms are emblems
of storms in man's heart ; and Christ's sovereignty over those is a pledge to us of
His power to control these also, and reduce them to peace. If we have any true
knowledge of ourselves, our own consciousness will tell us how greatly we need to
•xperience the peace-giving power of oar Redeemer. We cannot be ignorant that
266 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. n.
human nature is discordant within itself, and that sin has set its facolties at war
with each other. Times come when tempests blow in our own souls — tempests ol
temptation, and trial, and unbelief ; times when our passions are violent and break
away from control, or our fears rise and sweep wildly over us ; times when inclina-
tion and self-interest fight fiercely against conscience, or guilt stirs up shame and
remorse, and from one cause and another we are unquiet, restless, tossed to and fro,
like the troubled surface of the sea beneath the smiting of the storm. And who
shall lay to rest these tempests of the soul, and bring us to a holy calm and har-
mony within ? The true and only Peacemaker is He who stood in the tempest-
tossed boat, and said to the winds and the sea, '♦ Peace, be still." 3, Once more, the
miracle has a lesson for us when viewed in its prophetic aspect. Christ, Lord of
the raging waters, stilling the violence of the storm, and bringing peace and rest to the
tempest-tossed disciples, images His final victory over evil, and the salvation in which
His redeeming work shall at last be completed. {B. Maitland, M.A.) Godpre-
nent though not seen : — In the novel, ''Blessed Saint Certainty," a student, the son of a
white father and an Indian mother, retires to the woods to seek communion with the
Power above him. There, after many days, his Indian mother finds him talking to
God, and crying to Him to reveal Himself. She sees that it would be a mistake to
make known her presence ; so she lies still among the brushwood, watching his
struggles lovingly and sympathizingly, yet never uttering a word of help, And at
last, when she judges it safe, she steals quietly away. God often treats His chil-
dren in just that way. He, too, often sees that it is best to look upon the strnggle,
and to make no sign. So Jesus, in to-day's lesson, looked down from the hill and
saw the disciples toiling all night in a storm which a word of His would have
stilled. He meant that His disciples should learn a lesson from that storm. Self-
confidence to be learnt : — It is usual, in some swimming-schools, to teach beginners
by sending them into the water with a belt around their waist, to which is attached
a rope which again is connected with an overreaching arm of wood. This is under
the control of the swimming-master, and it is used at first to support the learner
in the water ; but as the learner gains confidence, the rope is sla^ened, and he is
left to support himself by his own efforts. The master stands by, watching the
boy's struggles, ready to note any sign of real danger. When danger is seen, the
rope is again tightened — at the right moment, not before — and the boy is taken
safely out of the water. Jesus knows just how long to withhold help, and just
when to bring it. He came to the struggling disciples in the fourth watch of the night.
Failing to recognize Christ : — The foolish child shrinks with terror from the sight
of the doctor who comes to bring him relief. And we, sometimes, as foolishly fail
to recognize, and shrink from, God's greatest blessings. A countryman saw, one
morning, a gigantic figure coming towards him through the mist. He was about
to fiee in terror, when he noticed that the figure grew less and less as it approached.
So he waited until it was near ; and then found that he had been about to flee from
his brother. Christ's dieciples, through the mist of their fears, failed to recognize
Him as He walked on the sea. The worth of absent sympathy : — There was once
a young officer in a battle in India who was terribly wounded. The doctor ordered
both his legs to be amputated (this was before the days of chloroform) ; and after the
agonizing operation was done, and when the poor young fellow was laid exhausted
on his bed, he at once asked for pen and paper, and wrote a letter to his mother.
Doubtless during his sufferings there was present to his mind to strengthen him
the thought of his mother, far away in England, and how she would feel for him.
And if we gain strength from human sympathy, there is even more to be found in
the assurance of Divine sympathy from our risen Lord and Saviour, who can send
down His grace and the strength of the Divine Spirit. {W. Hardmany M.A.) The
Lord can bear to see His followers distressed — to see them engaged in sore oonfliot
with the enemies of His salvation, and yet not fiy to their immediate succour ; for
secretly He is helping them. His tenderness is not weak, but moves according to
the rules of perfect wisdom. (J. W, Pearson.) You are appalled, overwhelmed,
and cry out with terror. But remember, it is Christ imperfectly known that terri-
fies : once understand and know His dispensations — once be thoroughly acquainted
with the amplitude of His grace— once perceive how immense is His compassion
towards the greatest sinners, how full and complete the price He has paid — and all
this doubt and fear will vanish. And do we not often misunderstand the march of
Ctod's Providence ? (Ibid.) Observe, moreover, they go forward. That had been
a sin, a capital offence> if they h d endeavoured to go back to the shore. And
^ et they were but a little way from it. Happy is that yoong Ohristian wiio, t^
. ▼!.] 8T. MARK, 267
after engaging in a coarse of real practical Christianity, after entering in the paths
of piety and true religion, he speedily met with obstacles, speedily found himself
overtaken with difficulties and distresses, still determined that he will struggle
against them, that he will not be driven back by any difficulties, but that he will
effect the good pleasure of tbe Lord, convinced that He will never forsake those that
trust in Him. They might indeed have said, after toiling so long, •* It is useless —
we labour in vain — we spend our strength for nought — we never counted on this —
we never imagined we were to engage in a service so arduous." O no ; this is not
their feeling ; but having once engaged in it, they press forward ; and He who com-
manded them to enter upon it, will assuredly succour them in due time. (Ibid.)
Be of good cheery it U 1 : — Christ would accustom them to hardship by degrees.
They had before this been in danger at sea, but then their Lord was present with
them ; and though He was asleep, they had free recourse to Him to awake Him, and
did so, with their cries (Matt. vlii. 24, 25, &c.). But now they were without
His company. But though their fears and troubles were great while Christ was absent,
they were increased at His coming to them in so wonderful a way, walking on the
sea to give them help. And how ready are our hearts to sink, even when God and
Christ are about accomplishing our deliverance I 1. The Person that spake, the
Lord Jesus Christ. 2. Those to whom He spake, viz., His disciples in their
present distress; and by them to all true Christians. Their thoughts were as
much troubled even as the sea. 8. We may observe the kind nature and
design of Christ's speech to tiiem at this time. It was full of compassion, and
tending to their support : Be of good cheer, do not faint, nor be afraid. 4. The
argument He used to silence their fears and doubts, and give them relief — '^It is I : "
».«., One whom you have seen and known, and need not now distrust; One whose
power and grace you have experienced, and on which you may still rely. 5. The
time when He spake thus comfortably to them — •' Straightway.'* In their greatest
extremity He speedily reveals Himself to be their refuge ; and raises their hope
when their hearts are ready to fail. When believers are ready to sink under their
troubles, 'tis the most powerful argument to their relief, to have Christ seasonably
coming in, and saying to them, ** It is I." I. Whence it is that even believebs abs
APT TO siKK undeb theib tboubles. 'Tis uo uncommon case for gracious souls to be
cast down and disquieted under pressing afflictions. But there is a peculiar anguish in
the hour of death. As to the springs of this. 1. We are too prone to put far from us
the evil day. 2. Death may find us in the dark as to our title to the life to come,
or meetness for it. 8. Conscience in oar last hours may be awakened to revive the
sense of past sins, and so may increase our horrors and terrors. 4. Ratan sometimes
joins in with an awakened conscience, to make the trial the more sore. Lastly, God
sometimes withdraws the light of His countenance : and how deplorable is the case
that the soul must then be in ! '* If God be for us, who can be against us ? " If He
speak peace, who can give trouble? And who could keep from fainting, did not
Christ seasonably interpose, saying by His word and Spirit, *♦ Be of good cheer, it is I."
To proceed to the second thing. IL What Chbist thus speaks fob the belief of His
PBESENT disciples, BELONGS TO ALL THE REST OF HiS SERVANTS. UI. WhAT IS CAB-
RIED IN THE ARGUMENT HERE USED, AND WHAT THE SERVANTS OP ChRIST MAT GATHER
FBOM IT FOB THEIR SUPPORT. In general, it notes His presence with them, and His
wisdom, power, faithfulness, and love to be engaged for them. 'Tis the Lord that
speaks : and so — 1. 'Tis One that hath an unquestionable right to take from me, or
lay upon me, or do with me, what He pleases. 2. 'Tis Christ that invites our re-
gard to Him under every dispensation, in whom are hid all the treasures of wisdom
and knowledge (Col. ii. 8). 8. 'Tis He that steps forth and offers Himself to oar
notice, saying, " It is I ; " One who hath purchased heaven for His believing fol-
lowers, and is preparing them for it, and in the best way conducting them to it. 4.
He that thus speaks has moreover said, " What I do thou knowest not now ; but thou
shalt know hereafter" (John ziii. 7). 6. In Christ, who here speaks, all the promises
of God are Yea and Amen : and He has bid His disciples to ask what they will in
His name, and He will do it. It is I, your only and all-sofficient Bedeemer, on
whom your help is laid, and whose business and delight it is to succour and save. It
is I, who died, the just for the unjust, that I might bring yoa to God ; and who
have undertaken that you shall not miscarry or lose your way. It is I, who can
bestow whatever you need, and deliver you from all your fears, and keep what you
have committed to me against that day, the day of My coming to judgment. " It is
I, who live, and was dead ; and behold I am alive for evermore. Amen ; and have
Ibe keys of hell and of death " (Bev. i. 18). Fear not to go down into the grave, I will
268 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [ohap.
be with thee, and surely bring thee up again. It is I, who never yet failed any that
trusted Me, and am the same yesterday, and to-day, and for ever. It is I, who am
the resurrection and the life, with whom is hid your life in God ; and though you lay
down your bodies in the dust, when I who am your life, shall appear, then shall ye
also appear with Me in glory. A few words by way of use shall close all. 1. Are
believers themselves so ready to sink under their burdens, what then can bear up
the hearts of others ? • ' If the righteous scarcely be saved, where shall the ungodly
and the sinner appear ? " 2. Seeing 'tis Christ's voice alone that can comfort the
soul, how desirable is an interest in Him, and how earnestly should we labour after
it? Lastly, let the disciples of Christ in all His dealings with them, dismiss their
fears at His kind reviving voice, " It is I." It is I, who have all your times in My
hand, and your safety as to both worlds at heart. It is I, whose power is over all
things in heaven and earth, and that power is by unchangeable love engaged for
you ; and if this be enough to your comfort, be of good cheer, it is I, who call you
now by My gospel to receive the benefit of it, further and further. It is I, who am
entrusted with you, and may be trusted by you, as your nearest, best, and ever-
lasting friend. {D. Wilcox.)
Ver. 52. For tney considered not the miracle of the loaves.— Tfc« miraels of
the loaves : — The disciples " were sore amazed in themselves beyond measure, and
wondered." Had the miracle of the loaves been duly considered, the inference from
it must have been that He who had wrought it must be Lord over the whole system
of nature, and could, therefore, whenever He pleased, bend the elements to His rule.
I. There was another occasion on which Christ miraculously fed a great multitude.
We read of His sustaining four thousand men, besides women and children, with
seven loaves and a few little fishes. Thebb were only two occasions on which
THIS WAS DONE. He showcd Himself ready to heal all manner of sickness ; but He
showed no readiness to provide food miraculously. The reason is not far to seek. It
was altogether one of the consequences of sin that men were afflicted with various mala-
dies and pains, and that disease and death held sway in this creation. But it was not
one of those consequences, that men had to labour for subsistence. Labour was
God's earliest ordinance, bo that Adam, in innocence, was placed in paradise to keep
it. Had He dealt with men's want as He dealt with disease, removing it instantly by
the exercise of miraculous power. He would have pronounced it a grievance that
labour had been made the heritage of man ; whereas, by the course which He
actually took, He gave all the weight of His testimony to the advantageousness of
the existing appointment. Universal plenty, yielded without toil, would generate
universal dissoluteness. IL When He multiplied the scanty provision, and made
it satisfy the wants of a famishing multitude. He designed, we may believe, to nx
ATTENTION ON HiMSELF, AS APPOINTED TO PBOVIDB, OB BATHBB TO BE THE SPIBITnAXt
BU8TENANCB OF THE WHOLE ROMAN BACB. And how striking, in the first place, the
correspondence between Christ, the multiplier of a few loaves and fishes, and Christ
the expounder of the commandments of the moral law. It might almost have been
excusable, had a man who lived under the legal dispensation, and had nothing
before him but the letter of the precepts, imagined the possibility of a perfect
obedience to the commandments of the two tables. It was a wonderful amplification.
The statute-books of a nation are numerous and ponderous Volumes ; various oases
as they arise demand fresh laws, and legislatures are either busy in making new
legislations, or modifying old. But the statutes of God, though intended for count-
less ages, contain only ten short commandments — the whole not so long as the
preamble to a single act of human legislation, and these ten oommaudments,
breathed on by Him who spake as never man spake, amplify themselves into innu-
merable precepts, so that every possible caSe was provided for, every possible sin,
every possible duty enjoined ; and who can fail to observe how aptly Christ repre-
sented His office as expounder of the law, when He fed a multitude with the slendei
provision which His disciples had broaght into the wilderness ? But have not the
virtues of the single death, the merits of the one work of expiation, proved ample
enough for the innumerable company which have gathered round Christ and applied
to Him for deliverance ? And are not — if we may use the expression — are not the
basketfuls which still remain, sufficient to preclude the necessity for any fresh
miracle, though those who should crave spiritual food for ages to come should
immeasurably exceed those who have already been satisfied in the wilderness ? III.
To the PRECISE EFFECT WHICH A WANT OF CONSIDERATION PBODUCBD IN THE CASH OF
VSS AFOSTLBB, AND WHICH IT IB JUST AS UKXLY TO PRODUCE IN ODB OWH. It IS
. Tul ST. MARK. 269
•▼ident thai the miracle of the loaves is referred to by the sacred historian, as bo
■igxial a display of Christ's power that none who witnessed it ought to have been
•urpriBed at any other. The thing charged against the apostles is that they were
ftmazed and confounded at Christ etilling the winds and the waves, though they had
just before seen Him produce food for thousands ; and the thing implied is — for
otherwise there would be no ground for blame^that the miracle of the loaves should
have prepared them for any further demonstration of lordship over nature and her
laws. Thus the miracle of the loaves should have sufficed to destroy all remains
of unbelief, and should have furnished the apostles with motives to confidence under
the most trying circumstances, and a simple dependence on the guardianship of the
Saviour, whatever the trials to which they were exposed. And why is it that we
ourselves adopt not His reasoning? Why is it that we do not similarly argue from
the loaves to the storm — from the mighty works of tha atonement to the manifold
requirements of a state of warfare and pilgrimage ? Ah, if we did, could there be
that anxiety, that mistrust, those fears, those tremblings, which we too often mani-
fest when pains and troubles come thickly upon us ? No, no; it is because we look
not on the cross, because we forget the agony and bloody sweat and passion of the
Redeemer, that we shrink from the storm and are terrified by the waves. We con-
sider not the miracle of the loaves, and then, when the sky is dark, and the winds
fierce, we are tempted to give ourselves up for lost {H. Melvill.) Forgotten
mercies : — Hard hearts and painful unbeliefs spring up in the waste places where we
bury our forgotten mercies. (C. H. Spurgeon.) Consider the past :~-lieithei earth
nor heaven, time nor eternity, yields choicer gems of thought than the achievements
of our Lord. {Ibid. ) Fast action an index to future help : — Since Jesus Christ
is the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever, what He did at one time ought to be
well considered, because it is the index of what He is prepared to do again should
need arise. His accomplished wonders have not spent His strength, He has the dew
of His youth still upon Him. Our Samson's locks are not shorn, our Solomon has
not lost His wisdom, our Immanuel has not ceased to be, •' God with us." (Ibid.)
The inconsideration of the disciples : — '• They considered not the miracle of the
loaves." — At first sight this may seem almost as marvellous as the miracle itself.
I. It is by no means difficult to discoveb ▲ very satisfactoby beason why thb
DISCIPLES SEOULD BE MUCH LESS AFFECTED BY THE FEEDING OF THE FIVB THOUSAND,
THAN BY THE WALKING UPON THE WATEB AND THE SUDDEN STILLING OF THE TEMPEST.
1. The former was a miracle wrought in the open day, when there was nothing to dis-
turb the imagination, or to awaken fear. It was, moreover, not a sudden effect, but
a gradual operation ; not a shock upon the senses, but a gentle and continuous
appeal to them ; and would thus be far too calm and quiet in its general character
to produce anything like that turbulence of emotion which the latter miracles would
excite, aided as they were by the presence of danger, the confusion of the storm, the
horror of darkness, and all that sublimity of circumstance with which they were
accompanied. This, however, though it may afford an explanation of their excessive
amazement, is far from explaining their total inadvertency to that great miracle at
which they had so recently been present ; and which, had it occurred to their
memory, as it manifestly ought, would speedily have recalled them from their
transport. 2. The evangelist accounts for this, by saying that their heart was
hardened. They had become so accustomed to the sight of their Master's mighty
works that they had ceased to regard them with any peculiar interest, or to attach
to them any pecuhar importance. Every one is aware of the influence of familiarity
with the great and astonishing, in abating the impressions they originally produce.
How little, for instance, are any of us affected by the sublime spectacle of the uni-
verse around us I Even the conclusion which, beyond all others, one would have
thought it impossible to escape — the conviction of His omnipotence — they seem far
from having practically realized. Some exception from the full weight of this
censure may perhaps be made in favour of Peter, who, on various occasions, dis-
covered a certain boldness and force of apprehension, which we look in vain for in
his fellow-disciples. 3. Our Lord knew all this, and felt the necessity of reviving
their early feeling of wonder, in order to rouse them from that mental inactivity, that
slumberous inconsideration, into which they had fallen. Hence He sent them away,
Ac. Astonishment opens the eyes of their understanding to at least some temporary
recognition of His greatness, for now, says St. Matthew, they *' came and worshipped
Him, saying, Of a truth, Thou art the Son of God ! " But they speedily relapsed
into their old habit of inconsideration. To this, accordingly. He frequently ad-
dressed Himself, and sometimes in a tone of the strongest expostulation and reprool
270 THE BIBUCA j ILLUSTRATOR. [oha». wu,
(Mark viii. 15-21). II. Thb pbaotioa^ impobt or thk subjbct in application to
ODBSELYBS. 1. We oaght to derive a strong corroboration of our faith in the gospel.
How unfit were the disciples for the great work for which, neverthelesa, they were
set apart. What can we say to the story of their success, &c, but " This is the hand
of God." 2. Their heedlessness of mind ought to come directly home to our own
bosoms, and awaken us to the necessity of earnest and serious reflection. Familiarity
has produced the same effects upon many of us. So with respect to the volume
of Scripture generally. 3. There are methods in the order of Divine grace by which
we are at times roused from that insensibility and heedlossuess to which we are
prone, and the remedy which the Lord adopted in the case of the disciples is strik-
ingly symbolical of the manner in which He still coudesoends at times to deal with
us. Affliction and fear, under the gracious direction of the Divine Spirit, are at
times the most efficient of all interpf eters of Scripture. 4. The gospel, when it does
not soften the heart, hardens it, <&o. (t^. U. Smith.)
Vers 5S-56. They laid the sick in the streets. — The multitude in affliction :— I.
A BKAUTIPUL OOUNTBY, INHABITATBD BY A MULTITUDB OT SICK. II. A PBOMPT RBOOO-
NiTioN OF A POBMBB BBNKFAC3T0B— " They kuew Him (Matt. ix. 35, xi. 20->24;
Mark iii. 7-11). III. Eitebobtio exertion — •• And ran, &o." IV. An appkotino
picTUBB op human HELPLESSNESS — "Began to carry about," Ac. V. An admission
THAT HEALING VIBTUB DWELT ALONB IN CflBIST. YI. ThB INFALLIBLE NATXTBE OP THB
BEMEDT. (F. Wagstaff.) Jesus and His fulnesB : — I. The landing. Wherever the
Son of God landed there was blessing, peace, health, liberty. II. The bbooonizino —
" Straightway they knew Him," •* If thou knewest," &c. III. Thb oathebino. IV.
The touching. V. The healing. (H. Bonar^ D.D.) Touch Jesus and be healed: —
I. The touch was needy. 2. The touch was wise, 8. The touch was prompt.
4. The touch was believing. 5. The touch was pergonal. 6. The touch was un-
restricted. There was no exception to the healing. 7. The touch was efficacious.
No failure. 8. The lost will be inexcusable. (/. Smith.) A crowd of eager
applicants ; — It was after a walk through the village of Ehden, beneath the moun>
tain of the cedars, our last Syri n expedition, in which we visited several of the
churches and cottages of the pi ce, that we found the stairs and corridors of the
castle of the Maronite chief, Sheykh Joseph, lined with a crowd of eager applicants,
♦' sick people taken with divers diseases," who, hearing that there was a medical
man in the party, had thronged round him, " beseeching him that he would heal
them." I mention this incident because it illustrates so forcibly these scenes in the
gospel history, from which I have almost of necessity borrowed the language best
fitted to express the eagerness, the hope, the anxiety of the multitude who had been
attracted by the fame of this beneficent influence. It was an affecting scene ; oar
kind doctor was distressed to nd how many cases there were which with proper
medical appliances might have been cured ; and on returning to the ship, by the
Prince of Wales' desire, a store of medicines was sent back, with Arabic labels
directing how and for what puipose they should be used. {Dean Stanley.) Spiri-
tual healing: — I. The necessity fob such an application to Christ. 1. Yoa
have a disease of guilt upon you. 2. Ton have a disease of corruption upon yoa.
II. The manneb op it. 1. They persuaded themselves that Christ was able to do
this thing for them. 2. They put themselves in His way. 8. Those who could not
come of themselves, sought the help of their stronger neighbours ; none of them
were so unfeeling as to refuse the needful aid. 4. They earnestly prayed for the
blessing which they desired. 5 They complied with the simple method which was
prescribed. This was to touo Him. IIL Thb obbtaxm sucoBsa of ix-->**Mads
whole." {J. JaweU, M,A.)
CHAPTER Vn.
Vbbb. 1-16. Then earns together onto Him tlis Fbarisees, tad omtaln of th*
Scribes. — Scribes and Pharisees coming to Christ : — ^L When they oamb. When
Gennesaret turned its heart towaid Him. When diseased bodies had felt the virtnt
of His touch, and imprisoned souls had been set free by His word. Then. As soon as
ever the Church's Child was born, the devil sought to drown Him (Rev. xii). II. Who
xasY wBBB that CAME. Pharisees and soribes. The learned and tne religions. Thess
Tu.] 8T, MARK, 271
tvodasBeshave always been the greatest opponents of Christ's kingdom. III. Whencb
THST OAMB. From Jerusalem. Macbiavel observed that there was nowhere leu piety
than in those that dwelt nearest to Borne. *• The nearer the Church, the iarther
from God." **Iteannot be that a prophet shall perish out of Jerusalem." lY.
Whbbb thxt cams. To Jesus. As the moth flies at the lamp, and bats fly at the
sun« What a contrast between such a coming and those named in chap. vi. 56.
** I will draw all men unto Me." (L. Palmer.) The tradition of men :^It is the
folly of men that, in discharge of the duties of religion, they are satisfied to put
ceremonies and confessions that cost but little, in the place of righteousness of heart
and life which cost a great deal. I. There is to-day an ecolesiastical ritualism,
which is disastrous to piety. It starts with the assumption that its methods of
worship are the best possible ; and, after a little, declares they are the only ones
acceptable to God. The Church usurps the place of Christ. Of any church that esti-
mates ritual above character, that endeavours to build up form rather than shape
life, Christ says, " Full well do ye reject the commandment of God that ye may
keep your tradition." IL There is to-day a social ritualism, which is disastrous
to true piety. Public opinion is a power; it ^ai Tts theof^ of religion. Certain
things done, and certain others left undone, are the credentials of piety. Men's
actions are tiie only things taken into account, not the men themselves. Society
has agreed that a little honesty, a little charity, and church-going, shall be accepted
as religion. Such reject the commandment of God that they may keep their
tradition, in. There is a ritualism of pjissoisal opinion, which is disastrous to
true piety. Every man has his own idea of the conditions on which he personally
may be right with (Jod. They forget that it is for God to decide what is satisfactory
to Him. It is sometimes argued that, since there are so many opposite theories
and conflicting creeds, our acceptance or rejection of what is called religion cannot
be of much importance. But religion is a simple matter. Piety is the being and
doing what God has commanded ; just that ; nothing more and nothing less.
Those commandments are few, brief, intelligible. Whatever vagueness and con-
fnsion there may be in our ideas of religion, it is of our own making. Let God
speak for HimseU, and listen only to Him, and all is plain. (Monday Club Sennom.)
Tradition aeeumulates rubbish : — Accepting the traditions of men as our rule, we
get to be heirs of a vast deal of rubbish. Just as around the anchored rock in the
ever-swinging tide, there gathers all sorts of debris^ floating fragments of wrecks,
drifting grass and weeds, with perhaps now and then some bright sea-blossom, or
shell of beauty oast up by the heave of the surge— so a church that takes as pattern
of its oreed and ceremonial the belief and methods of men of other times, is sure to
be cambered with a mass of outworn mistakes, the refuse and driftwood of cen-
toiies, with here and there a suggestion of world-long value, but as a whole, out of
date and useless. (Ibid.) Tradition conceals truth : — Each generation encum-
bered the divinely ordained ritual with its own comments ; so after awhile men's
notions overgrew and hid from sight God's thought, as some wild vine in the forest
wreathes its fetters of verdure around the hearty tree, interlacing and interknotting
its sprays, looping mesh on mesh of pliant growth, till the tree is smothered and
hidden, and the all-encompassiug vine alone is seen and seems to have life. (Ibid.)
Perverted tradition the bane of the Church : — It is a subtle artifice of the Great Enemy
of mankind, to make the real Word of God of none effect by means of a pretended
Word. When he cannot prevail with men to go contrary to what they know to be
the Wora which came from God, then he deals with them as he taught his lying
prophet to deal at Bethel with the prophet of God who came from Judah. When
Jeroboam ** said to the Man of God, Come home with me, and refresh thyself, and
I will give thee a reward," the prophet resolutely repelled the invitation : " If thou
wilt give me half thy house, I will not go in with thee, neither will I eat bread nor
drink water in this place ; for so was it charged me by the Word of the Lord, saying,
Eat no bread, nor drink water." An old prophet, however, followed the man of
God, and gave him a like invitation, and received a hke refusal. But, when the
great deceiver put a falsehood into the mouth of the wicked old man : *' I am a
prophet also, as thou art, and an angel spake onto me by the Word of the Lord,
saving, ' Bring him back with thee into thy house, that he may eat bread and drink
water,' but he Ued unto him " — the Ue proved fatal I '* He went back with him,
and did eat bread in his house, and drank water *' (1 Kings ziii.). The Man of God
was greatly to be pitied, yet he was greatly to be blamed. He had received it
explicitly from God that he should neither eat nor drink in idolatrous Bethel ; and
it was his plain duty to adhere to that command, unless God repealed it in the same
in THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [i
way in which he gave it, or with equal evidence that saoh was His will ; whereas
he believes an old man of whom he knows nothing, on his own word, onder sns-
pioious oircumstanoes, and in opposition to what had been the Word of God to
himself. While a direct and palpable temptation to go contrary to God*s command
was offered, he resisted and repelled the temptation ; bat when a temptation was
offered, which came as a repeal of the command and in relief of his necessities,
(though on no sufficient authority, then his weakness prevailed. Why, think you,
were lying prophets permitted? Why are lying teachers still suffered f Why,
even lying wonders ? To try the state of men's hearts. Is your heart, by the
grace of God, made humble and teachable ? then will you be taught of the Spirit
" to discern the things which differ " — to detect the fallacies and delusions practised
upon it — and "to approve the things which are more excellent." Is your heart
self-sufficient, careless, carnal ? then wiU it bo deceived and led astray by plausible
and flattering pretences. In contending that the Scriptures are the sole rule of
faith, we give them exclusive authority over the judgment and the conscience. This
authority lies in the real sense, and the just application of that sense, not in any
sense or application contrary to that which is just and true, and which man may
seek to impose. This sense is to be ascertained, and the right application of it is
to be learnt by humble, teachable, diligent, and devout study, with the use of all
needful helps thereto. The influence of the Scriptures on the heart is the special
work of Him who dictated them. The blessing of God is needful to our success in
endeavouring to ascertain the sense and right application of them ; but so great
are the obstacles to our " receiving with meekness tiie engrafted Word," that *♦ God,
who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, must shine into our hearts " by
the special grace of the Holy Spirit, in order to our feeling the transforming influence
of the light of the knowledge of His glory, as seen in the face of Jesus Christ. No
consent of man in any interpretation or application of Scripture is of binding
authority on others. Consent is often contagious — ^not enlightened. The influence
of leaders, the supposed interests of party, early associations, and prejudices, often
bias the judgment. £ut the unerring standard remains. And the deviations of
churches, and councils, and nations, from this standard, and the continuance of
those deviations for ages, cannot deflect this standard one jot or tittle from its
rectitude. But while no consent of men can bind of authority to any interpretation
or application of Scripture, yet those views of truth which are commended to us by
the consent in them of varied bodies of enlightened and devout men, come to as
under a just and commanding influence. {J, Pratt, B.D.) Ceremonialism and
spirituality : — I. Ceremonialism: substitutes washing with water fob pubity of
KBABT. IL CeBEMONIALISM SUBSTITUTES THE TRADITIONS OF THE ELDEBS FOB THB
COMMANDS OF GoD. III. CEREMONIALISM SUBSTITUTES THE WORSHIP OF THE LIPS FOB
THB WOBSHIP OF THE HEART. IV. CEREMONIALISM SUBSTITUTES A SUBTLE EVASION FOB
FiLiAii DUTY. V. Ceremonialism substitutes avoidance of unclean food fob
AVOIDANCE OF IMPURE AND MALICIOUS THOUGHTS. Application : It is possible to be, in
a sense, religious, and yet, in a deeper sense, sinful, and out of harmony with the
mind and will of God. None is wholly free from the temptation to substitute the
external, formal, apparent, for the faith, love, and loyalty of heart required by God.
Hence the need of a good heart, which must be a new heart — the gift and creation
of God by His Spirit. (tT". R. Thomson, M.A.) The tradition of m^n versus the
commandments of God : — In the conflict between the Church and the sacred relation-
ships of common life, to the latter must De assigned the pre-eminence. The
necessities of the temple, of its services or its servants, must not be met at the
expense of filial faithfulness. The sin of the Pharisees and scribes was — L A
GROSS PERVERSION OF THE RELATIVE CLAIMS OF THE PARENT AND THE ChURCH. II.
A WICKED INTERFERENCE WITH THE FIRST COMMANDMENT WITH PROMISE. III. A CRUEL
UNDERMINING OF FILIAL AFFECTION AND FIDELITY, AND AS CRUEL AN EXPOSURE OF THE
AGED AND ENFEEBLED PARENTS TO A FALSELY- JUSTIFIED NEGLECT. IV. AN UNWARRANTED
USURPATION OF AUTHORITY TO WEAKEN THE OBLIGATION OF A DiVINB LAW. {R. Green.)
The religion of the Jews : — The interference of the Pharisees and scribes served to
bring out their religion. Consider some of its features. The religion here depicted
and condemned — I. Consisted mainly of external observances (vers. 2-4). 1. By
this feature the same system of rehgion may be detected in the present day. 2.
Beligion in this sense is upheld by many strong principles in the nature of man —
awakened conscience, self-righteousness, vanity. 8. This system is exceedingly
dangerous. Misleads the awakened sinner ; produces a deep and fatal slumber.
n. Bbbtb on HUMAN authority as ITS warrant (vers. 8, 6, 7). L By this feature
. vn.] 8T. MARK, S78
we may detect it in the present day. Among those who take away the right— duty
*nd exercise of private judgment. Among those who derive their religious belief
from man — in whatever way. 2. This form of false religion is exceedingly dan-
gerous. It dishonours Christ as a prophet, &o. It gives despotic power to man,
which he is not qualified to wield. It degrades the soul to be a servant of servants,
<fec. 3. Call no man master. HI, Puts dishokoub upon the bacbed Scbiptubes.
1. By this feature we detect its existence now. In the Church of Rome, <feo., the
Scriptures are wholly concealed — made to speak according to tradition and the Church.
Amongst ourselves : opinions are not surrendered to them, and they are neglected'.
2. This form of religion stands opposed to those Scriptures which it dishonours
(John V. 39, and others). 3. Know the Scriptures and revere them. IV. Made
LIGHT OF THE MORAL LAW (vers. 8-12). 1. May be seen in our own day— in the
Chorch of Rome. May be seen, amongst ourselves, in those who put religious
ceremonies in the place of moral duties. 2. This form has its origin in the love
of sin, and is accommodated to an unsanctified heart. 3. It has no tendency to
purify, but the reverse. 4. Beware of Antinomianism. V. Consisted in hypocrisy,
putting on appearances. VI. Was vigilant and jealous of Christ, and censured
His disciples (vers. 1, 2). {Expository Discourses.) Unwashen Mnds: — It was
laid down that the hands were first to be washed clean. The tips of the ten fingers
were then joined and lifted up, so that the water ran down to the elbows, then
turned down, so that it might run off to the ground. Fresh water was poured on
them ae they were lifted up, and twice again as they hung down. The washing
itself was to be done by rubbing the fist of one hand in the hollow of the other.
When the hands were washed before eating, they must be held upwards, when after
it downwards, but so that the water should not nm beyond the knuckles. The
vessel used must be held first in the right, then in the left hand ; the water was to
be poured first on the right, then on the left hand ; and at every third time the
words repeated, •• Blessed art thou who hast given us the command to wash the
hands.*' It was keenly disputed whether the cup of blessing or the handwashing
shooli come first ; whether the towel used should be laid on the table or on
the coach ; and whether the table was to be cleared before the final washing or
after it. {Qeikie*9 Life of Christ.) The tradition of tlie elders :— The excess to
which these regulations were carried is well illustrated by what is told of one Rabbi
Akaba, who, in his dungeon, being driven by a pittance of water to the alternative
of neglecting ablution or dying with thirst, preferred death to failing in ceremonious
observance. Moses commanded washing very freely : — But it was always in con-
nection with some very definite cause ; being required either (1) because of physical
pollution which had been gathered, or (2) in connection with moral consecration
which was purposed. The priests at consecration were washed. So was the leper
after his recovery, and so were all after defilement or contact with those defiled.
But the tradition of the elders had come to require as many washings in a day as
Moses would have required in a month. The secret of this development lay in the
adoption of the principle of •• The Hedge," i.e., something which guarded the Law
by prohibiting not only actions forbidden, but aU actions which might by any possi-
bility lead to them. Accordingly, because Moses said that he who was defiled by
contact with a corpse should wash, they held it was well to wash always after being
out of doors, as you might have touched some one who might have touched some
one or something dead Thus life became a very slavery. Of course " the
common people," as they were contemptuously styled, could not afford either time,
or thought, or money, to practise such scruples. But a great number associated
themselves together, calling themselves '• Haberim," or "Comrades," to observe
these scruples. The Pharisees belonged to this society, of course, to a mAX),
{R. Glover.) Pharisaic prejudice : — These Pharisees found fault because Christ'a
disciples did not obey man's law, the quoted " tradition," the authority of their
Church. It was not until the great (seventh) Earl of Shaftesbury was twenty-five
years of age that he supposed that any one outside the Church of England was
worth listening to, or ever wrote anything worth reading. •* As to their having any
views of their own worthy of consideration," he says, " it never crossed my mind
unto one dajr I got hold of a copy of some Commentary, and, after reading for awhile
with great mterest, it suddenly struck me, * The writer must have been a rank
Dissenter 1 ' and I instantly shut np the book, recoiling from it as I would from
poison. One of the first things that opened my eyes was reading of Doddridge
being condemned as a Dissenter, and I remember exclaiming, • Good heavens ! how
will be stand in the day of judgment at the bar of Qod, as compared with Pope
18
274 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. tb.
Alexander VI. ? ' It was not till I was twenty-five years old, or thereabouts, that I
got hold of Scott's • CJommentary on the Bible,' and, struck with the enormous
difference between his views and those to which I had been accustomed, I began to
think for myself." A hypocrite : — A hypocrite has been likened to one who should
go into a shop to buy a pennyworth, and should steal a pound's worth ; or to one
who is punctual in paying a small debt, that he may get deeper into our books and
cheat us of a greater sum. (T. Manton.) Hypocrites perform small duties and
neglect great • — Hypocrites make much ado about small things that they may be
more easy in their consciences while living in great sins. They pay the tithe of
mint to a fraction, but rob (Jod of His glory by their self-righteousness. They give
God tiie shells, and steal the kernels for their own pride and self-will. (C. H,
Spurgeon.) Heart worship required: — God requires soul worship, and men give
Him body worship ; He asks for the heart, and they present Him with their lips ;
He demands their tiioughts and their minds, and they give him banners, and vest-
ments, and candles. {Ibid.) Perverse penances : — No matter how painful may
be the mortification, how rigid the penance, how severe the abstinenoe ; no matter
how much may be taken from his purse, or from the wine vat, or from the store,
he will be content to suffer anything sooner than bow before the Most High with a
true confession of sin, and trust in the appointed Saviour with sincere, child-like
faith. (Ibid.) Faith and works reversed, or the plant upside down : — Some time
ago a lady showed me a small seedling acacia, remarking, '* I cannot make this
plant out ; it doesn't do well at all ; it doesn't grow a bit, though I water it well,
and attend to it carefully." I looked at the plant, and soon discovered the cause.
The little plant had a tap-root, as all seedlings have, and this tap-root should have
been inserted in the soil, where it would soon have struck oat its lateral rootlets ;
but, instead of this, the plant was upside down, the leading root being in the soil,
and the tap-root exposed to the sun and air. It was impossible that the plant could
grow or even live. It is thus with some people's religion. {Sword and Trowel.)
In what sense worship is voluntary : — The duties of worship ought to be voluntary,
as voluntary is opposed to constrained ; but they must not be voluntary, as volun-
tary is opposed to instituted or appointed. God doth no more approve of that
worship we give Him according to our will, than He doth approve of our neglect of
~ that which is according to His own will. (Burkitt.) Human tradition versus
}i Divine command : — The experience is a universal one, that God's conmiandments
; suffer from the competition of human rules. The great precepts of God have only
" an unseen God behind them, but behind the human rules there is generally a class
whose pride is gratified by their observance and incensed by their neglect. Accord-
ingly, whenever small rules of outward conduct begin to flourish, the great principles
of religion — faith, love, honour — fall into the background. It is so to-djay. The
Thug in India who confessed to having killed 320 people had no pangs of con-
science for killing them, but was somewhat distressed on account of having killed
a few of them after a hare had crossed his path or a bird whistled in a certain direc-
tion. Murder was no crime in his opinion, but the neglect of an omen from Bowany
was a grave one. In Hinduism, which is ceremonial throughout, a man may be a
Imost religious man, and yet very wicked. Many in our own country would un-
Uorupulously commit great crimes, and yet be very careful to avoid eating flesh on
^ood Friday. It seems as if we only had a certain amount of power of attention in
us, and, if it goes to little rules, there is none left for great principles. {R. Glover.)
Tradition and inspiration : — As with the man who attempts to serve two masters,
so with him who thinks to walk by two lights : if he would keep in the straight
path he must put out one of the two, and guide himself by the other. {Dr. Wylie.)
Laying aside the comma7idment of God : — ^A philosopher at Florence could not be
persuaded to look through one of Galileo's telescopes, lest he should see something
in the heavens that would disturb him in his belief f Aristotle's philosophy. Thus
it is with many who are afraid of examining God s Word, lest they should find
themselves condemned. {Buck.) The inejicacy o_, God's Word — how produced ;—
We make it of none effect when we — I. Fail to read and study it and to appropriate
its blessings. II. When we give precedence to any human authority or law. in.
When by our lives wo misrepresent it before the w rid. IV. When we fail to urge
its truths upon the anxious inquirer or careless sinner. (J. Gordon.) Ear* to
hear : — This rule must needs be of very great importance to Christians. For our
Great Master (1) calls all the people unto Him o purpose to tell them only this.
(3) He requires of them a particular attention. 3) He requires it of every one of
without exception. (4) H(» exhorts them to endeavour thoroughly to under.
. Tn.} ST. MARK, 275
•tand it. (5) He lets them know that in order to do it they have need of a
iingolar grace and a particular gift of understanding. It was for want of under-
standing this rule tiiat the Jews still remained Jews, adhering to a mere external
way of worship. It is for the very same reason that numbers of Christians, even to
this day, serve God more like Jews than Christians. (Questiel.)
Vers, 17-23. Do ye not perceive, that whatsoever thing from without entereth
Into the man. — The true source of defilement : — Having rebuked the scribes and
Pharisees, our Lord addressed the people, and laid down a great general principle
(ver. 16), which His disciples asked Him to explain more fully. We are taught —
L That mebb extebnal obsekvances do not affect or chanqb the moraii
STATE AND CHABACTEB OF MAN. 1. The Statement that nothing from without
defileth a man, must be taken in connection with what goes before, and then it
becomes a principle, of which the Jews had much need to be told. All require to
be told. 2. That mere outward observances cannot affect the moral nature, seems
a very simple truth. Reason teaches it. The body may be affected by them, but not
the soul; to influence the heart, means of a right class must be selected. Ex-
perience teaches it. Observation confirms it. 3. This principle reqmres in our
day to be loudly proclaimed. 4. The more nearly the soul can come to God,
irrespective of outward things, the better. II. That the moral state and
CHARA.CTER OF A MAN, IS AFFECTED BY THAT WHICH COMETH OUT OF HIS HEART. 1.
The fountain-head of all that enters into human history and character, is the
heart. Hence, the character of the moral law, the order of the Spirit's work, the
importance of the inspired precept, " Keep thine heart," <fec. 2. That which
naturally proceeds from the heart proves that it is wholly depraved. 3. By these
things, which proceed from the heart, is man defiled. Christ's blood and spirit,
alone can cleanse. {Expository Discourses.) Spiritual defilement: — I, The
0EBEM0NIAU8M OF THE Phabisees DENOUNCED. 1. The uudue importance they
attached to outward observances. 2. The additions they made to the require-
ments of the law of Moses. 8. The Saviour's discourse on this occasion was
evidently intended to prepare the minds of the people for the total aboUtinn of
all ceremonial rites. II. The iqnobance of the disciples bbpboved. ** Anu Ha
saith unto them. Are ye so without understanding also ? " 1. To us their dulnesa
of apprehension appears strange and unaccountable. 2. In their ignorance we see
the effect, not merely of inattention, but of prejudice and bigotry. III. The
DEPRAVITY OF HUMAN NATURE EXHIBITED. We are showD — 1. The souTco of evil.
It is in the heart. 2. The diversified streams of evil. " Adulteries, fornications,
thefts, murders, covetousness," &o. 8. The contaminating influence of evil.
These are the things by which men are defiled. {Expository Outlirus.) Things
from within : — It is well known that rotten wood and glowworms make a glorious
show in the night, and seem to be some excellent things ; but when the day
appears, they show what they are indeed — poor, despicable, and base creatures. Such
is the vanity and sinfulness of all haughty, proud, high-minded persons, who, though
now shining in the darkness of this world, through the greatness of their power, place,
and height of their honour, when the Sun of Righteousness shall appear and manifest
the secrets of all hearts, then they will be seen in their own proper colours. {Spencer.)
Out of the heBXt.-~The heart determines the life : — The bowl runs ajs the bias
inclines it ; the ship moves as the rudder steers it ; and the mind thinks according
to the predominancy of vice or virtue in it. The heart of man is like the spring
of the clock, which causes the wheels to move right or wrong, well or ill. If the
heart once set forward for God, all the members will follow after ; all the parts,
like dutiful handmaids, in theur places, will wait on their mistress. The heart
is the great workhouse where all sin is wrought before it is exposed to open view.
It is the mint where evil thoughts are coined, before they are current in our
words or actions. It is the forge where all our evil works as well as words are
hammered out. There is no sin but is dressed in the withdrawing room of the
heart, before it appears on the stage of life. It is vain to go about an holy hfe
till the heart be made holy. The pulse of the hand beats well or ill, according to
the state of the heart. If the chinks of the ship are unstopped, it will be to no
purpose to labour at the pump. When the water is foul at the bottom, no
wonder that scum and filth appear at the top. There is no way to stop the issue
of sin, but by drying up the matter that feeds it. {Swinnock.) Natural cor-
ruption of the heart .-—That which ^sop said to his master, when he came into
hii garden and saw so many weeds in it, is appUcabl to the heart. His master
f76 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chj*.
asked him what was the reason that the weeds grew np so last and the herbi
thrived not? He answered, "The ground is natural mother to the weeds, but a
stepmother to the herbs.'* So the heart o! man is natural mother to sin and cor-
ruption, but a stepmother to grace and goodness ; and further than it is watered
from heaven, and followed with a great deal of care and pains, it grows not.
(Goodwin.) The heart a storehouse of evil ;— Here is a piece of iron laid upon the
anvil. The hammers are plied upon it lustily. A thousand sparks are scattered
on every side. Suppose it possible to count each spark as it falls from the anvil ;
yet, who could guess the number of the unborn sparks that still lie latent and
hidden in the mass of iron ? Now, your sinful nature may be compared to that
heated bar of iron. Temptations are the hammers ; your sins are the sparks. If
you could count them (which you cannot do), yet who could tell the multitude of
unborn iniquities — eggs of sin that lie slumbering in your soul f You must know
this before you can know the sinfulness of your nature. Our open sins are like
the farmer's little sample which he brings to market. There are granaries full at
home. The iniquities that we see are like the weeds upon the surface soil, but I
have been told, and indeed have seen the truth of it, that if you dig six feet into
the earth and turn np fresh soil, there will be found in that soil six feet deep the
seeds of the weeds indigenous to the land. And so we are not to think merely of
the sins that grow on the surface, but if we could turn our heart up to its core
and centre, we should find it is fully permeated with sin as every piece of putridity
is with worms and rottenness. (C. E. Spurgeon.) An evil heart ;— -A certain
little boy in Kansas, only eleven years old, strove hard to be a Christian. Once he
stood watching Maggie paring the potatoes for dinner. Soon she pared an extra large
one, which was very white and very nice on the outside, but when cut into pieces
it showed itself to be hollow and black inside with dry rot. Instantly Willie
exclaimed, " Why, Maggie, that potatoe isn't a Christian." " What do you mean ? "
asked Maggie. *• Don't you see it has a bad heart ? *' was the child's reply. This
little Kansas boy had learned enough of the religion of Jesus to know that how*
ever fair the outside may be, the natural heart is corrupt. (Baptist Messenger.}
Evil passions tchen restrained only by custonit law, or public opinion, and net by
the grace and love of God, still merit condemnation : — If men were shut up in cells,
so that they could not commit that which their nature instigated them to do, yet,
as before the Lord, seeing they would have been such sinners outwardly if they
could have been, their hearts are judged to be no better than the hearts of those
who found opportunity to sin and used it. A vicious horse is none the better
tempered because the kicking straps prevent his dashing the carriage to atoms ;
and so a man is none the better really because the restraints of custom and
Providence may prevent his carrying out that which he would prefer. Poor fallen
human nature behind the bars of laws, and in the cage of fear of punishment, is
none the less a fearful creature ; should its master unlock the door we should
soon see what it would be and do. (C. H. Spurgeon.) No heart free from sin :—
Well-tempered spades turn up ill savoury soils even in vineyards. (Baily.)
The heart its own laboratory .-—We hear a great deal said in our day about the
doctrine of environment. "Circumstances," we are told, "make the man;"
"Life is a modification of matter;" "Thinking is matter in motion;" "The
brain secretes thought as the liver secretes bile;" "The difference between a
good man and a bad man is mainly a difference in molecular organization ; "
"The affections are of an eminently glandular nature;" "Not as a man
thinketh in his heart, but as he eateth, so is he;" "Character is the aggre-
gate of surroundings, the sum-total of parents, nurse, place, time, air, light, food,
&c." Now this doctrine of environment is in a certain sense entirely true. The
mind does not more certainly act on the body than the body on the mind. But
the doctrine of environment means, or at least tends to mean, more than this. It
tends to teach that sin is not so much a crime as a misfortune, not so much guilt
as disease. Not so did the Galilean Master teach, •• Hearken to Me, all of yon,
and understand: Nothing that goeth into a man from without can defile him;
but the things that come out of him are what defile a man." Here He is in direct
issue with the materialism of the day. For man is something more than matter,
or an organized group of molecules. Behind the visible of him there is the
invisible. The heart is its own laboratory. Friend, overtaken in a sin, do not
judge yourself too eharitably. Don't ascribe too much to outward circumstances.
Becall the first Adam : he was in a garden, where every outward circumstance
was for him ; yet he fell. Becall the second Adam : He was in a desert, where
cnuY. Tix.] ST, MARK, S77
•very outward oiroamstanoe was against Him ; yet He remained ereot : the Devfl
failed to eonqner Him, not beoanse He was Divine, bat beoaase He was sinless.
Don't exonse yourself then too maoh by year " environment." Man is not alto-
gether an imbecile. Tme, " circumstances do make the man." Bat they make
him only in the sense and degree that he permits them to make him. You will
find the most niggardly of men in the mansions of the rich, and the most generous
of men in the cabins of the poor ; the humblest of Christians in the palace, and
the proudest of Pharisees in the cottage ; saints in the dungeon, and villains in
the Church. It is not so much the outward that tinges the inward as the inward
that tinges the outward. It is for the man himself to say whether his own heart
shall be a temple or a kennel. The great problem then is this : How shall a man
use his "circumstances "? For just what he does with them — just what he doea
with his strength and time, and skill, and money, and imagination, and reason,
and afEections, just what the heart does with its opportunities — just this is the test
of him. Do these opportunities, after passing through the laboratory of his
heart, issue as blessings on the world ? Then his heart is pure, Do they issue
in moral blights ? Then his heart is defiled. Not that these bad issues do of
themselves defile the heart; but the heart being itself defiled, and sending forth issues
of evil thoughts and deeds, these issues take on the impurities of the source from
which they spring, marking its defilement, and aggravating its pollution by the
very act of outflowing. These are the unclean things, which, coming out from
within, defile the man. Keep thy heart, then, with all dihgence, for out of it are
th« issues of liie and of death. Friend, are you disheartened by my Master's
doctrine ? Don't seek to remedy your case by merely altering your circumstances,
or reforming your habits. You can't purify a fountain by purifying its streams. Jesua
Christ is the most radical of reformers. He does not say, "Change your circum-
stances, and you will change your character ; " but He does say, •' Change your heart,
snd you will be likely to change your circumstances." {George Dana Boardman, D.D.)
Evil Thoughts. — Source of evil tJioughts : — ^Notice how evil thoughts are by the
Saviour said to be the first of the evil things which coming out of the heart defile.
We should not, I think, have put evil thoughts amongst the things which come out
of the heart, because we suppose them to be in the heart. But is not what the
Saviour says true of that which He alone knows — the very nature and substance of
the soulr In its very centre, or close to its centre, the evil has its root or fountain.
The evil suggestion arises, and then the will or affection takes notice of it. If the
will is right with God, it immediately puts out the evil thing as if it were a loath-
some reptile, but if the will be not right with God, it harbours the first
suggestion of evil, it cogitates it, thinks it over and over, dwells upon it in imagina-
tion, chews the food of the evil fancy, desires to do the evil deed, resolves to do it,
and so has already done it in the heart. So that out of the heart, out of the
unseen and unthinkable depths within, proceed the evil thoughts which become
evil acts within before they are incarnated, as it were, in some evil deed without.
{M. F. Sadler t M.A.) Sinfulness of evil tlwughts: — Some please themselves in
thoughts of sinfid sports, or cheats, or unclean acts, and sit brooding on such
cockatrice-eggs with great delight. It is their meat and drink to roll these sugar-
plums under their tongues. Though they cannot sin outwardly, for want of
strength of body or a fit opportunity, yet they act sin inwardly with great love and
complacency. As players in a comedy, they act their parts in private, in order to a
more exact performance of them in public. (Swinnock.) Thoughts utually
indicate character : — Our thoughts are like the blossoms on a tree in the spring.
Yon may see a tree in the spring all covered with blossoms, so that nothing else of
it appears. Multitudes of them fall oft and come to nothing. Of ttimes where there
are most blossoms there is least fruit. But yet there is no fruit, be it of what sort
it will, good or bad, but it comes in and from some of those blossoms. The mind
of man is covered vdth thoughts as a tree with blossoms. Most of them fall off,
▼anish, and come to nothing, end in vanity ; and sometimes where the mind does
most abound with them there is the least fruit, the sap of the mind is wasted and
consumed in them. Howbeit there is no fruit which actually we bring forth, be it
good or bad, but it proceeds from some of these thoughts. Wherefore, ordinarily
these give the best and surest measure of the frame of men's minds. "As a
man thinks in his heart, so is he." In case of strong and violent temptations, the
real frame of a man's heart is not to be judged by the multiphcity of thoughts
about any object, for whether they are from Satan's suggestions, or from inward
darkness, trouble, and horror, they will impose such a continual sense of them-
278 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [obaf. ?n.
selves on the mind as Bhall engage all its thoughts abont them ; aa when a man li
in a storm at sea, the current of his thoughts runs quite another way than when
he is in safety about his occasions. But ordinarily voluntary thoughts are the best
measure and indication of the frame of our minds. As the nature of the soil is
judged by the grass which it brings forth, so may the disposition of the heart by
the predominancy of voluntary thoughts ; they are the original acting of the soul,
the way whereby the heart puts forth and empties the treasure that is in it, the
waters that first rise and flow from that fountain. (J. Owen,) Petrifying
influence of evil thoughts : — Any one who has visited limestone caves has noticed the
stalactite pillars, sometimes large and massive, by which they were adorned and
supported. They are nature's masonry of soUd rock, formed by her own slow,
silent, mysterious process. The little drop of water percolates through the roof of
the cave, and deposits its sediment, and another follows it, till the icicle of stone is
formed : and finally reaching to the rock beneath, it becomes a sohd pillar, a
marble monument, which can only be rent down by the most powerful forces. But
is there not going forward oftentimes in the caverns of the human heart a process
as eilent and effective, yet infinitely more momentous ? There in the darkness
that shrouds all from the \dew of the outward observer, each thought and feeling,
as light and inconsiderate, perhaps, as the little drop of water, sinks downward
into the soul, and deposits — ^yet in a form almost imperceptible — what we may call
its sediment. And then another and another follows, till the traces of all com-
bined become more manifest, and at length, if these thoughts and feelings are
charged with the sediment of worldliness and worldly passion, they have reared
within the spirit permanent and perhaps everlasting monuments of their effects.
All around the walls of this spiritual cave stand in massive proportions the pillars
of sinful inclinations and the props of iniquity, and only a convulsion like that
which rends the solid globe can rend them from their place and shake their hold.
Thus stealthily is the work done ; mere fancies and desires and lusts unsuspiciously
entertained, contribute silently but surely to the result. The heart is changed
into an impregnable fortress of sin. The roof of its iniquity is sustained by marble
pillars, and all the weight of reason and conscience and the Divine threatenings are
powerless to lay it low in the dust of humility. Such is the power of those light
fancies and imaginations and desires which enter the soul unobserved, and are
slighted for their insignificance. They attract no notice. They utter no note of
alarm. We might suppose that if left to themselves they would be absorbed in
obUvion, and leave no trace behind. But they form the pillars of character. They
sustain the soul under the pressure of all those solemn appeals to which it ought
to yield. How impressive, then, the admonition, '• Keep thy heart with all
diligence '* I Things which seem powerless and harmless may prove noxious
beyond expression. The power of inveterate sin is from the silent flow of thought.
Your habitual desires or fancies are shaping yotir eternal destiny. {American
National Preacher.) Evil thoughts Twt to be harboured : — ^The best Christian's
heart here is like Solomon's ships, which brought home not only gold and silver, but
also apes and peacocks ; it has not only spiritual and heavenly, but also vain and
foolish thoughts. But these latter are there as a disease or poison in the body, the
object of his grief and abhorrence, not of his love and complacency. Though we
cannot keep vain thoughts from knocking at the door of our hearts, nor from enter-
ing in sometimes, yet we may forbear bidding them welcome, or giving them
entertainment. *' How long shall vain thoughts lodge within thee t '* It is bad to
let them sit down with us, though but for an hour, but it is worse to let them lie or
lodge with us. It is better to receive the greatest thieves into our houses than vain
thoughts into our hearts. John Huss, seeking to reclaim a very profane wretch,
was told by him, that his giving way to wicked, wanton thoughts was the original
of all those hideous births of impiety which he was guilty of in his life. Kusa
answered him, that although he could not keep evil thoughts from courting him,
yet he might keep them from marrying him ; •• as," he added, " though I cannot
keep the birds from flying over my head, yet I can keep them from building their
nests in my hair." {Swinnock.) Importance of keeping the mind well employed: —
Man's heart is like a millstone : poor in com, and round it goes, bruising and
grinding, and converting it into flour ; whereas give it no com, and then indeed
the stone goes round, but only grinds itself away, and becomes ever thinner and
■mailer and narrower. Even as the heart of man requires to have always some-
thing to do; and happy is he who continually occupies it with good and holy
thoughts, otherwise it may soon consume and waste itself by useless anxieties oi
9KA9. mj] 8T. MARK. 279
wieked and carnal enggestions. When the millstones are not nicely adjaeted, grain
may indeed be poured in, bat comes away only half ground or not ground at alL
The same often happens with our heart when our devotion is not sufficiently
earnest. On such occasions we read the finest texts without knowing what we
have read, and pray without hearing our own prayers. The eye flits over the
sacred page, the mouth pours forth the words, and clappers like a mill, but the
heart meanwhile turns from one strange thought to another ; and such reading and
Buch prayer are more a useless form than a devotion acceptable to God. {Scriver.)'
Oood thoughts strangers: — The thoughts of spiritual things are with many as
guests that come into an inn, and not like children that dwell in the house. {Dr.
John Owen.) Cure for evil thoughts : — As the streams of a mighty river running
into the ocean, so are the thoughts of a natural man, and through self they run
into hell. It is a fond thing to set a dam before such a river to curb its streams.
For a little space there may be a stop made, but it will quickly break down all
obstacles, or overflow all its bounds. There is no way to divert its course, but only
by providing other channels for its waters, and turning them thereinto. The
mighty stream of the evil thoughts of men will admit of no bounds or dams to put
a stop unto them. There are but two ways of rehef from them ; the one respect-
ing their moral evil, the other their natural abundance. The first by throwing salt
into the spring, as Elisba cured the waters of Jericho ; that is, to get the heart and
mind seasoned with grace ; for the tree must be made good before the fruit will ue
so ; the other is, to turn their streams into new channels, putting new aims and
ends upon them, fixing them on new objects ; so shall we abound in spiritual
thoughts ; for abound in thought we shall, whether we will or no. (Ibid.) Evil
thoughts not trifles : — Notice this evil catalogue, this horrible list of words. It
begins with what is very lightly regarded among men— evil thoughts. Instead of
evil thoughts being less simple than evil acts, it may sometimes happen that in the
thought the man may be worse than in the act. Thoughts are the heads of words
and actions, and within the thoughts lie condensed all the villany and iniquity that
can be seen in the words or in the acts. If men did more carefully watch their
thoughts, they would not so readily fall into evil ways. Instead of fancying that evil
thoughts are mere trifles, let us imitate the Saviour, and put them first in the
catalogue of things to be condemned. Let us make a conscience of our thoughts.
In the words of the text the first point mentioned is evil thoughts, but the last is
foolishness. This is the way of sin, to begin with ^ proud conceit of our own
thoughts, ending with folly and stupidity. What a range there is between these
two points, what a variety of sin thus enumerated ! Sin is a contradictory thing ;
it takes men this way and that, but never in the right way. Virtue is one, as truth
is one ; holiness is one, but sin is ten thousand things conglomerated into a dread
confusion. When we look upon any man and only regard him with malignity, we
sin in all that — it is the sin of envy. There stands pride. One would have thought
that a man who commits these sins would not have been proud. When a man is
filled with a proud conceit of himself he is justifying his own iniquity. ( C. H.
Spurgeon.) Human depravity seen in the thoughts of man : — Consider the wild
mixtures of thought displayed both in the waking life and the dreams of mankind.
How grand ! how mean ! how sudden the leap from one to the other I how
inscrutable the succession I how defiant of orderly control ' It is as if the soul
were a thinking ruin, which it very likely is. The angel and the demon
life appear to be contending in it. The imagination revels in beauty exceeding
all the beauty of things, wails in images dire and monstrous, wallows in mur-
derous and base suggestions that shame our inward dignity. (H. Bushnell, D.D.)
Covetousness. Govetousness — its spirit : — The spirit of covetousness which leads to
an over-value and over-love of money, is independent of amount. A poor man may
make an idol of his little, just as much as the rich man makes an idol of his much.
We know ourLord showed how the poorest person may exceed in charity and liberality
the richest — by giving more than the wealthy in proportion to the whole amount
of his possessions. So in like manner, a poor man may be more covetous than a
wealthy man, because he may keep back from the treasury of God more in propor-
tion to his all than the rich man keeps back from his all. If the Christian
character is debased, and heaven is lost by such indulgence of covetousness as to
make a man an idolater of mammon, it is of little consequence whether the heart
be set on an idol of gold, or an idol of clay. {Dean Ramsay.) Covetousness
exchanges true riches for the false: — As the dug in ^sop's fable lost the real flesh
for the shadow of it, no the covetous man casts away the true riches for the love ol
280 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [oha». m.
the ehadowy. (T. Adanui.) Covetoxisne^s pines in plenty : — The covetous man
pines in plenty, like Tantalns up to the chin in water, and yet thirsty. {Ibid.)
Degradation of the covetous : — A young man once picked up a Bovereign lying in the
road. Ever afterwards, in walking along, he kept his eye fixed steadily upon the
ground in the hope of finding another. And in the course of a long life he did
pick up a good many gold and silver coins at different times. But all these years^
while he was looking for them, he saw not that the heavens were bright above him,
and nature beautiful around. He never once allowed his eyes to look up from the
mud and filth in which he sought his treasure ; and when he died — a rich old man
— he only knew this fair earth as a dirty road to pick up money as you walk along.
(Dr. Jefers.) Delusion of the covetous : — Some of us may remember a fable of a
covetous man, who chanced to find his way one moonlight night into a fairy's
palace. There he saw bars, apparently of solid gold, strewed on every side ; and
he was permitted to take away as many as he could carry. In the morning, when
the Bun rose on his imaginary treasure, borne home with so much toil, behold I
there was only a bundle of sticks, and invisible beings filled the air around >iiTn
with scornful laughter. Such will be the confusion of many a man who died in
this world with his thousands, and woke up in the next world not only miserable,
and poor, and naked, but in presence of a heap of fuel stored up against the great
Day of burning. {Anan.) Covetousness mental gluttony : — Covetousness is a
sort of mental gluttony, not confined to money, but craving honour and feeding on
selfishness. {CJiamfort.) Govetou£iuss manifested in insufficient expenditure : —
Whosoever, when a just occasion calls, either spends not at all, or not in some
proportion to God's blessing upon him, is covetous. The reason of the ground is
manifest, because wealth i< given to that end to supply our occasions. Now, if I
do not give everything its end, I abuse the creature ; I am false to my reason, which
should guide me ; I offend the Supreme Judge, in perverting that order which He
hath set both to those things and to reason. The application of the ground would
be infinite. But, in brief, a poor man is an occasion ; my friend is an occasion ;
my country ; my table ; my apparel. If in all these, and those more which concern
me, I either do nothing, or pinch and scrape and squeeze blood, indecently to the
station wherein God hath placed me, I am covetous. More particularly, and to
give one instance of all : if God have given me servants, and I either provide too
little for them, or that which is unwholesome, and so not competent nourishment*
I am covetous. Men usually think that servants for their money are as other things
that they buy, even as a piece of wood, which they may cut, or hack, or throw into the
fire ; and so that they pay them their wages, all is well. Nay, to descend yet more
particularly : if a man hath wherewithal to buy a spade, and yet he chooseth
rather to nse his neighbour's, and wear out that, he is covetous. Nevertheless,
few bring covetousness thus low or consider it so narrowly, which yet ought to be
done, since there is a justice in the least things, and for the least there shall be %
judgment. {George Herbert.) Frlde. — Pride : — Diogenes being at Olympia, saw
at the celebrated festival some young men of Ehodes, arrayed most magnificently.
Smiling scornfully, he exclaimed, "This is pride." Afterwards, meeting with some
Lacedsmonians in a mean and sordid dress, he said, "This is also pnde." Pride
is found at the same opposite extremes of dress at the present day. The folly of
pride : — Of all sins, pride is such a one as we may well wonder how it should grow,
for it hath no other root to sustain it, than what is found in man's dreaming fancy.
It grows, as sometimes we see a mushroom, or moss among stones, where there is
httle soil or none for its root to take hold of. {W. Gumall.) The test of purity : —
A gentleman was once extolling loudly the virtue of honesty, saying what a dignitj
it imparted to our nature, and how it recommended us to the favour of God. •• Sir,"
rephed his friend, " however excellent the virtue of honesty may be, I fear there
are very few men in the world who really possess it." ♦♦ You surprise me,'* said m
stranger. " Ignorant as I am of your character," was the reply, " I fancy it would
be no diflBcnlt matter to prove even you to be a dishonest man." *• I defy you."
"Will you give me leave, then, to ask you a question or two, and promise not to be
offended T" "Certainly." "Have you never met with an opportunity of getting
gain by unfair means f I don't say, have you taken advantage of it ; but, have you
ever met with such an opportunity ? I, for my part, have ; and I believe eveiy-
body else has." •• Very probably I may." " How did you feel your mind affected
on such an occasion ? Had you no secret desire, not the least inclination, to seise
the adTantage which offered t Tell me without any evasion, and oonsistently with
the eharaeier you admire." ** I must acknowledge, I have not always been absolutely
CKA». Tn.] ST. MARK, 281
free from every irregular inolmation ; but ." *• Hold I sir, none of your salvos ;
you have confessed enough. If you had the desire, though you never proceeded to
the act, you were dishonest in heart. This is what the Scriptures call concupiscence.
It defiles the soul ; it is a breach of that law which requireth truth in the inward
parts, and, unless you are pardoned through the Blood of Christ, it will be a just
ground for your oondemnation, when Qod shall judge the secrets of men.
Ver. 24. But He could not be hid. — He could not be hid:— There are some
persons in this world who cannot be hid : by birth, inheritance, or talent, they come
to the front. But this was not the case here. Christ was but the reputed son of a
village carpenter, a poor despised Nazarene. Yet He could not be hid. And no
wonder. He had come to seek and save that which was lost, to fulfil all prophecy,
to preach the everlasting gospel, to work such miracles as the world had never
seen ; therefore the fame of Him spread abroad. 1. The Lord Jesus is not hid.
He may be plainly seen by those who will use their eyes — in the works of creation,
in His Word, in the ejects of His grace. 2. He ought not to be hid. We must
renounce self to announce Christ. He is the only remedy for the yearning cry of
humanity. 3. He cannot be hid. The Christian sky may be clouded for a time,
but it will clear, and the Sun of Eighteousness burst forth in fresh power and glory.
All things are preparing for His coronation. He must reign. Over all man's resis-
tance, His purpose must prevail. 4. He will not be hid. A day is coming,
when every eye shall see Him, and self-deception will be no longer possible. (•/.
Fleming, B.D.) Why Christ cannot be hid : — Because — 1. Great need will seek
Him out. 2. True love will surely find Him. 3. Earnest faith will ever lead to
Him. 4. His own heart will betray Him. 5. His disciples jwill make Him known.
iA. Rowland^ B,A.) He could not be hid: — Tacitus saith of Brutus — ♦* The more
16 sought to secrete himself, the more he was noticed." The open secret of
character: — ^L Chbist desibed to be hid. He entered into a house, and would
have no man know it. We are sure this desire was not prompted by fear or shame,
that it did not spring from caprice or unworthy policy. One reason will be found —
1. In the modesty of high goodness. There is a religiousness which clamours for
recognition. Far removed from this stagey pietism is the goodness which does not
clamour for recognition. With all her magnificence, how modest is Nature. Christ's
character and life is the grandeur of the firmament — silent, simple, severe. He
enjoined upon His disciples constant sequestration, and Himself set the example.
Let us remember the modesty illustrated by the Master, enjoined by Him. He for
ever discarded the trumpet. " Let your light so shine." Have we been anxious
for distinction or applause ? Have we cared for the foreground ? Let us rise to a
more perfect life, and we shall think less of society, less of ourselves, and live mora
than content in the eye of God. 2. The sensitiveness of high goodness constrained
Christ to privacy. Wherever you find rare purity, you find this shrinking from the
corruptions of the times. We find the same desire to escape from the world's
wickedness in the Master Himself, and it is so shared by all His pure-hearted fol-
lowers. Monasticism had its origin, to a considerable extent, in this shrinking of
the saints from the corruptions of their age. H. Christ could not be hid. With
all His miracle working power. He could not accomplish this ; and all who are
thoroughly like their Master share this inability. High goodness desires to hide ;
it cannot be hid. 1. Christ could not be hid because of the manifestiveness of such
goodness. Goodness is self-reveaUng. This is true in large measure of genius, of
culture, and this is pre-eminently true of character. It " cannot be hid." That
Christ could not hide Himself is manifest from other passages than our text, e.g.,
when the disciples walked with Him to Emmaus. However carefully He might
shroud Himself, some rift in the cloud, some shifting of the darkness, would betray
the hidden glory. And, indeed, the course adopted of making Palestine the scene
of the Incarnate Life is itself the supreme illustration of the necessary manifesta-
tions of glorious character. It is ever thus with worthy lives— -Aidd«n, they are
revealed ; all the more impressively revealed for the attempt at retirement and sup-
pression. Christ could not be hid, because of humanity's felt need of what great
goodness has to give. Mark the event which drew Christ forth from His sequestra-
tion. How she knew of the power and presence of Jesus it boots little to con-
iectore. Misery has a swift instinct for a helper, and, as Lange observes, ** The
tuen sagacity with which need here scents out and finds her Saviour is of infinite,
quite indeterminable, magnitude.*' All ^s is true, in its measure, of those who are
Uke Christ. The world needs them, knows them, and denies them retirement and
282 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [ohA». m
leisnre. 8. Christ could not be hid, because of the self-sacrificing nature of His
perfect goodness. When the afflicted woman made herself and her sorrow known
to the Master, He did not refuse to come forth from His hiding-plaoe. Desiring to
be hid, we are half like Jesus Christ ; desiring to be hid, but forced by charity into
the light, we are like Christ altogether. Let us, in these days of manifold loxai^
and chronic self-indulgence, remember the adnionition of the Prophet (Amos yi.
4-6). {W. L. Watkinson.^ Pharisaie hypocrisy inflictive to the holy nature oj
Christ : — Culture of any kind is pained by contact with coarseness and imperfection.
An eye schooled to beauty is pained by a misshapen thing, an ear schooled to har-
mony is tortured by dissonance, and thus a high, delicate, moral nature is wounded
by the world's sin and shame. There is a goodness, maybe, which dwells with a
wicked generation contentedly enough, simply because it is so little ahead of the
generation ; but a deeply true and spiritually tender nature suffers in all the sin
and suffering of its neighbourhood. And this is the situation of Christ in the
instance before ns. He had seen the worst features of the age in the pbarisaio
party. All their lies and impurities were open to His eye, unutterably afflictive
to His holy nature, and He retired before the impure atmosphere as before
the breath of pestilence. They were defiled, hardened, blinded by sin, and
He shrank from them with horror. His pure soul was grieved by the com-
mon sinfulness, hoUowness, shamelessness ; and heart-sore, heart-sick, He sought
solitude and rest. (Ibid.) Hidden^ yet revealed: — The hidden violets pro*
claim their presence in every passing breeze ; the lark, hidden in the light,
fills all the landscape with music; and the vivid freshness of grass and flower
betrays all the secret windings of the coy meadow stream. Thus superiority of
mind and life all unconsciously reveals itself, makes itself everywhere known and
felt as a thing of beauty and blessing — all the more penetrating for its softness, aU
the more subduing for its silence, all the more renowned for its secrecy. The still,
small whisper shakes the world ; those are crowned who shun greatness ; the valley
of humility is the peak of fame. The man of royal soul cannot hide himself. In
his modesty he may draw a veil over his face, but the veil itself will share the*
transfiguration. Or, if constitutionally timid and retiring, the superiority of his
spirit and method will declare itself, and the *♦ unknown '* are the " well-known.*'
Or, he may be poor, illiterate, persecuted, yet will the innate grandeur shine through
all poverty, rudeness, or unpopularity, winning the suffrages of all beholders. And
as he cannot hide himself, neither can the world hide him. Never does the world
appear more foolish than when it attempts to extinguish a burning and shining Ught.
In the Indian legend, a mighty, wicked sorcerer seeks, with very poor success, to
keep the sun, moon, and stars in three separate chests; and those who have sought
to suppress God's servants have succeeded no better. John was banished to Pat-
mos ; but far from sinking out of view in the solitary sea, he stands before the world
amid sublimest illuminations, like his own ** angel standing in the sun." They
drove Luther into the Wartburg; but there, in translating the Scriptures into
German, he became the cynosure of all eyes. Bunyan's enemies consigned him to
Bedford gaol, and lo, he became known to the race, one of the foremost of the immor-
tals of Christendom. Eminent goodness will out — neither men nor devils can keep
it under a bushel. (Ibid.) The true disciple cannot be hid anymore than his
Master : — The Chinese have a wood which, buried some feet underground, fills the
air with fragrance ; and thus grand qualities, powers, graces, assert themselves
through all obstructions, filling the atmosphere of earth with the fragrance of
heaven. {Ibid.) Attraction at a distance : — Observers have stated that if flowers are
placed in a window, the window closed and the blinds drawn, the bees outside
are aware of the presence of flowers, and beat against the window-panes, evidently
anxious to reach them. This " action at a distance " is sufficiently wonderful ;
yet misery has a sense still more keen, faith a penetration yet more powerful.
Christ "entered into a house, and would have no man know it," and no doubt
took necessary measures to secure and preserve secrecy; but the sorrowfol
woman discovered His locality, apprehended His power and grace, and rested
not till she gained that Plant of Eenown whose leaves are "for the healing
of the nations." The world in its pbarisaical mood may spurn Christ and
drive Him away, but as the world realizes its misery it feels its absolaie
need of Him, and feels after Him, if haply it may find Him. (Ibid.) H*
could fwt be hid : — I. The purpos of God forbids that Christ should be hid. 11. The
innate glory of the Son of God is another reason why He could not be hid.
III. The desperate need of sinners rendered it impossible that He should bi
©BAP. TO.'] ST. MARK. 288
hid. IV. The bonndless compassion of the Son of God aooonnts for the fact
that He eonld not be hid. V. The deep and abiding gratitude of His followers
forbids that Christ should be hid. IW. O. Letou^ If a Christian abide
hidden, there i$ little to hide : — ^What does this prove in respeot to some of ns ?
We enter into a house and are hid — we are not inquired for, solicited, dragged
unwillingly into the light. We wish to be let alone, and are let alone. What
does all this reveal but the poverty of our nature f We are not sought out, for we
are not worth seeking. A needy heart is an infallible divining-rod to discern where the
gold is hidden in the social strata, and if none inquire for us, if none disturb our
•olitude, we may infer with certainty that there is little preciousness in our nature
either toward God or man. He who knows the deep things of God will be sought
out far and wide, as the Queen of Sheba came from the ends of the earth to hear
the wisdom of Solomon. A man of prayer will ever be importuned, and an interest
be sought in his sympathy and supplication. The good Samaritan is ^own
throughout the city, and his aid implored day and night If a Christian abides
hidden, there is little to hide. If we are greatly pure, sympathetic, wise, prayerful,
we are worth discovering, and shall soon and often be discovered. If there is in us
the sweetness of the Kose of Sharon, we shall not be permitted to waste our '* sweet,
ness on the desert air •' ; if there is in us the preciousness and beauty of (Jod's
jewels, we shall be fished from deepest caves to enrich the world. {W. L. Watkinson.)
The most beautiful characters the most unobtrusive: — Travellers tell that ^e
forests of South America are full of the gem-like hummiog-bird, yet vou may
sometimes ride for hours without seeing one. They are most difiSonlt to see
when perched among the branches, and almost indistinguishable flying among the
flowering trees ; it is only every now and then some accidental circumstance reveals
the swarm of bejewelled creatures, and they flash upon the vision in white, red,
green, blue, and purple. It is somewhat thus with society — the noblest, the most
beautiful characters, are not the obtrusive ones. Going through life carelessly,
one might think all the people common enough ; reading the newspapers, one
might suppose the world to contain only bad men ; but it may comfort us to re-
member the truly great and good shun observation and walk humbly with God.
The poorest and worst side of things is the most obvious. " It is the glory of
God to conceal a thing ; " and it is the glory of God's people to conceal themselves.
Nevertheless, the time comes for their revelation, and then we are delighted to find
how much silent, hidden goodness the world contains. The spectacle of want and woe
draws forth the excellent ones of the earth ; and however keen the trial of public life,
however repugnant contact with scenes of sin and shame and suffering, all is bravely,
cheerfully borne for the Saviour's sake and the world's betterment. When a true
soul hesitates between thecontemplative and active life, the example of Christ and love
of Christ determines to self -renouncing service. (Ibid.) The unhidden Saviout : —
I. The HUMANITY of Christ as revealing itself in the story. His fatigue was real :
Nature did not spare Him. When the soul is constantly going out towards the
objects of one's solicitude, the body may bear up bravely for a time ; but Nature
exacts her penalty. U. There is also in these words a glimpse into something
of A DiviKB PUBPOSB. It was part of the Divine plan that Christ's immediate
testimony should be conveyed to the Jews only ; this involved great self-restraint.
III. This desire to be quiet in those regions, gives a prophetic glimpse. All the
tenderness of God's heart will be disclosed when we are prepared for it. IV. Tmc
OVEBTURK TO A MASTER'S WORK MAY SEEM SOMETIMES LONG AND NEEDLESS. 1. " He
could not be hid." No, not even in these regions, where His ministry did not
especially lie. Marvellous that the world should have got almost to disbelieve in the
existence of a warm, generous heart. 2. How could Christ be hid ? If He were •
revelation, then He must be declared. There are great spring epochs in the working
out of Divine thoughts and purposes ; times when what had been concealed comes
out to view. Love must reveal itself ; so must life. If our inner life is to retain its
force and beauty, it must manifest itself. A spiritual recluse is a mistftke. {O. J,
Proctor.) Life must reveal itself: — Life must reveal itself, and it must reveal itself
after its own way. There is no need of parade and pomp to declare it. Christ-like
piety, which is so delightful in all its phases, is specially so in this ; while very
courageous it is very modest ; while gloriously strong it is very retiring. Parade
and pomp were the prominent features of the Pharisees' religion. Blow the trumpet!
Sound the alarm I Make way for virtue, temperance, zeal, and godliness ! Make
way indeed t But where is love, the soul of all life ? Love is modest. Have yon
forgotten her f Forgotten her ? Then never mind about the rest. Your virtue
IM THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap, vn.
it merely an aeddent of eirenmstanee or oonetitntion ; your temperanee only desire
worn ont; your zeal and godliness only eelf-importanoe dressed in sober garb,
undertaker's costnme. No need of a flonrish of trumpets and a beating of gonga
to declare the tme life. It most manifest itself, bat not simply on state oooa-
sions. It will oome to the light, but it would rather not have the lime light of a
merely popular applause thrown upon it. It cannot be hid, but it will not speak
of its own beauties. It will be self-assertiye, but after the Ghristly sort. The life
mast be the light of men. A revealer of Divine mysteries and a redeemer of
human sins and griefs could be no sealed fountain. (Ibid.)
Vers. 25-30. The woman was a Greek, a Syrophenlclan by nation : and ah
iMsought Him that He would oast forth the devil out of her daughter.— TA
Canaanitish mother : — Through her natural affections she had mounted up, as it
would seem, to higher and spiritual things ; for to a wonderful degree did she enter
into the secrets of His mysterious nature ; " she worshipped Him, saying, Lord,
help me ! " She pierced, as though by the intuition of some blessed instinct,
through the veil in which He was shrouded. Her faith laid its hold at once upon
His very Godhead, and on His true humanity. As God, she fell before Him — she
worshipped Him ; as man, she appealed to His feeling for the sorrows of man's
heart, crying to Him, " Lord, help me 1 " She reached on to that entire sympathy
which was to be the fruit of His being " perfected through suffering," " Tiiou
that art the Man of Sorrows ; by Thy man's heart, and by the covenant of Thy
suffering, help me in my woe." Twice more, we know, she seemed to be refused ;
and yet she persevered. He had but tried her faith, and perfected her patience.
There was in her heart a hidden treasure which was thus brought forth ; there was
in it the fine gold, to which this hour of agony had been as the refiner's fire. Her
importunity had won its answer ; for indeed it was itself His gift. The fire upon
the altar of her heart had been kindled by the beams of His own countenance ; her
cleaving to Him was His gift ; her love the reflection of His love to her ; He had
put the words into her mouth, and He had strengthened her to speak them. And
■o the end was sure: she had knocked, and the door had opened ; she had asked, and
■he received : *' O woman, great is thy faith : be it unto thee even as thou wilt.
And her daughter was made whole from that very hour." Such is the narrative ;
and in all it^ parts we may read that which concerns ouiselves most closely. For
what else are our lives, with all their varying accidents and issues, than, as it were,
the shadows cast forward into all time by these dealings of the Son of God with
man ? He has come nigh unto us ; yea. He stands amongst us — He, the Healer
of our spirits ; He, our heart's true centre — He is close beside us ; and we, have we
not each one our own deep need of Him ? Have we not each one our own burden T
— the "young daughter who liethat home grievously afflicted," whom He only can
heal ? And then, further, do not characters now divide off and part asunder even
as they did then ? Are there not those who, like the Jews, kno^ not the office of
tills Healer ; who hear all His words, and see all His signs, and languidly let Him
pass, or angrily murmur at Him, or blasphemously drive Him from them ; from
whom He passes, even to the coasts of Tyre and Sidon, to pour on others the bless-
ing they refuse ? But then there are also those who do seek Him with their whole
heart — unmarked, it may be, by any of the outward appearances which catch the
eye of man. I. There is the lesson taught us by the Jews, that He does pass away
from those who will not stay Him with them ; that He goes on and heals others :
and that they die unhealed, because they knew not " the time of their visitation."
And the root of this evil is here pointed out to us : it is a want of faith, and, from
this, a lack of the power of spiritual discernment. Such men are purbhnd : the
full light of heaven shines in vain for them. They do not intend to reject the
Christ, but they know Him not ; their gaze is too idle, too impassive, to discover
Him. They know not that they have deep needs which He only can satisfy. They
yet dream of slaking their thirst at other streams. II. But there is also here the
lesson of the woman of Canaan ; and this has many aspects ; of which the first,
perhaps, is this, that by every mark and token which the stricken soul can read,
He to whom she sought is the only Healer of humanity, the true portion and rest
of every heart ; that He would teach us this by all the discipline of outward things ;
that the ties of family life are meant thus to train up our weak affections till they
are fitted to lay hold on HLm ; that the eddies and sorrows of life are meant to
■weep us from its flowery banks, that in its deep strong currents we may cry to Him ;
that for this end He opens to us, by little and little, the mystery of trouble round
OiAF. Tn.} ST. MARK, :i85
as, the mystery of evil within as, that we may fly from others and onreelves to
Him. III. And, once more, there Ib this further lesson, that He will most surely
be found by those who do seek after Him. For here we see why it often happens
that really earnest and sincere men seem, for a time at least, to pray in vain ; why
their *• Lord, help me 1 " is not answered by a word. It is not that Christ is not
near ns ; it is not that His ear is heavy ; it is not that the tenderness of His sym-
pathy is blunted. It is a part of His plan of faithfulness and wisdom. He has a
doable purpose herein. He would bless by it both ns and all ELis Chorch. How
many a fainting soal has gathered strength for one more hour of patient supplica-
tion by thinking on this Ganaanitish mother ; on her seeming rejection, ovi her
blessed saecess at last 1 And for ourselves, too, there is a special mercy in these
long-delayed blessings. For it is only by degrees that the work within us can be
perfected ; it is only by steps, small and almost imperceptible as we are taking
them, yet one by one leading us to unknown heights, that we can mount up to the
golden gate before as. The ripening of these precious fruits must not be forced.
We have many lessons to learn, and we can learn them but one by one. And much
«re we taught by these delayed answers to our prayers. By them the treasure of
our hearts is cleared from dross, as in the fnmace-heat. He would but teach us to
oome to Him at once for all, and not to leave Him until we have won our suit. (Bishop
Samuel Wilberforee.) Faith triumphant over reftisal : — 1. Here is, first, the Saviour
leaving the usual scenes of His ministry, and passing into a land to which He bad
as yet no message. As soon as He reaches it, He makes it plain that He did not oome
there for purposes of public ministration. He came there, I think we may say, for
the sake of one soul. He would leave on record just one example of His care for
those who were not yet His own. Thus would He warn the Jews that God's bless-
ing might escape them altogether, if they gave not the more earnest heed. When
and as He will, such is the law of His working. And they who would find Him
must watch for Him. Into tbe coasts of Tyre and Sidon He comes but now and
then, or He comes but once. 2. Again, how many are the heart's sorrows I How
often are they connected with family life ? Happy they whose timily sorrows bring
them to the same place for healing — to the feet of Christ. 8. But at all events, if
the home be ever so bright, if the life be ever so oloadless, there is a want
deep down within, which is either keenly felt, or, if not felt, tenfold more
urgent. If not for a child whom Satan hath bound ; yet at least for ourselves
we have all need to approach Christ with the prayer, "Have mercy on me,
O Lord, Thou Son of David." In some of us ^ere is by habit a possession
of the evil one : in all of ns there is by nature a taint and an infection of
sin. 4. Thus then we have all of as occasion to approach Him who has turned
aside to visit our coasts. We have all a malady which needs healing, and for
which He alone, alone in heaven or in earth, even professes to have a remedy. The
less we feel, the more we need. My brethren, we do not believe that any real
prayer was ever cast out for the onworthiness of the asker. 6. And doubt not, but
earnestly believe, that as this miracle describes as in some of its parts, so shall it
describe as also in all. It was written to teach men this lesson — that refusals, even
if they were uttered in words from the heavenly places, are at the very worst only
trials of our faith. Will we, that is the question, pray on through them ? 6. And
assuredly, this morning, we may take the history before us as a strongly encouraging
call to Christ's holy Table. (C J, VaugJian^ D.D,) The Syrophenician woman : —
I. A COMMENDATION or TBI WOMAN'S FAITH. But uow what is it that Christ commends
and admires ? It is the greatness of the woman's faith. Now faith may be said to be
great either in respect had to the understanding, or to the will. For the act of faith
proceeds from them both ; and it may be said to increase and be great, either as
the understanding receives more light, or the will more warmth : as the one doth
more firmly assent, and the other more readily embrace. In the understanding it
it raised by certainty and assurance, and in the will by devotion and confidence.
This woman's faith was great in both respects. She most firmly believed Christ to
be the Lord, able to work a miracle on her daughter : and her devotion and confi-
dence was so strongly built, that neither silence or denial nor a reproach could
shake it. And because we are told that •' the greatness of virtue is best seen in the
effects;" as we best judge of a tree by the spreading of its branches, and of the
whole by the parts ; we will therefore contemplate this woman's faith in those
several ^its it brought forth, — in her patience, in her humility, in her persever-
ance *, which are those lesser stars that shine in the firmament of our souls, and
borrow their light from the lustre of faith, aa from their sun. 1. W« mast admire
S86 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chaj. ▼»,
her patience. She endnred maoh ; misery, reproach, repulse, silence, and the name
of a "dog." Her patience proves the greatness of her faith. 2. Next follows her
humility, a companion of patience. "She worshipped Him." Not a humility
which stays at home, but which ♦* comes out of her coasts " after Christ. She cries
after Him; He answers not. She falls on the ground; He calls her "dog." A
humility that is not silent, but helps Christ to accuse her. A humility, not at the
lower end, but under the table, content with the crumbs which fall to the dogs.
Thus doth the soul by true humility go out from God to meet BUm, and, beholding
His immense goodness, looks back unto herself, and dwells in the contemplation of
her own poverty; and, being conscious of her own emptiness and nihility, she
stands at gaze, and trembles at that unmeasurable goodness which filleth all things.
It is a good flight from Him which hiimility makes. For thus to go away from
God into the valley of our own imperfections, is to meet Him : we are then most
near Him when we place ourselves at such a distance ; as the best way to enjoy the
sun is not to live in his sphere. We must therefore learn by this woman here to
take heed how we grace ourselves. For nothing can make the heavens as brass unto
VLB, to deny their influence, but a high conceit of our own worth. If no beam of
the sun touch thee in the midst of a field at noonday, thou canst not but think
iome thick cloud is cast between thee and the light ; and if, amongst that myriad
of blessings which flow from the Fountain of light, none reach home to thee, it is
because thou art too full already, and hast shut out God by the conceit of thy own
bulk and greatness. Certainly, nothing can conquer majesty but humility, which
layeth her foundation low, but raiseth her building to heaven. This Canaanitess is
a dog ; Christ calls her " woman : " she deserves not a crumb ; He grants her the
whole loaf, and seals His grant with a Fiat tibi. It shall be to humiUty " even as
die will." 3. And now, in the third place, her humility ushers in her heat and
perseverance in prayer. Pride is as glass : " It makes the mind brittle and frail. "
Glitter she doth, and make a fair show ; but upon a touch or fall is broken
asunder. Not only a reproach, which is " a hlow," but silence, which can be but
•• a touch," dasheth her to pieces. Reproach pride, and she " swells into anger ; "
she is ready to return the " dog " upon Christ. But humility is " a wall of brass,"
and endnreth all the batteries of opposition. Is Christ silent ? she cries still, she
follows after, she falls on her knees. Calls her "dog?" she confesseth it. Our
Saviour Himself, when He negotiated our reconciliation, continued in supplications
•* with strong crying" (Heb. v. 7), and now, beholding as it were Himself in the
woman, and seeing, though not the same, yet the like, fervour and perseverance in
her, He approves it as a piece of His own coin, and sets His impress upon it. And
these three, patience, humility, perseverance, and an undaimted constancy in prayer,
measure out her faith. For faith is not great but by opposition. 4. I might add a
fourth, her prudence, but that I scarce know how to distinguish it from faith. For
faith indeed is our Christian prudence, which doth '• innoculate the soul," give her
ft clear and piercing eye, by which she discerns great blessings in little ones, a talent
in a mite, and a loaf in a crumb ; which sets up " a golden light," by which we spy
out all spiritual advantages, and learn to thrive in the merchandise of truth. We
may see a beam of this light in every passage of this woman ; but it is most resplen-
dent in her art of thrift, by which she can multiply a crumb. A crumb shall turn
this dog into a child of Abraham. To our eye a star appears not much bigger than
a candle ; but reason corrects our sense, and makes it greater than the globe
of the earth : so opportunities and occasions of good, and those many helps
to increase grace in us, are apprehended as atoms by a sensual eye ; but our Chris-
tian prudence beholds them in their just magnitude, and makes more use of a crumb
tiiat falls from the table, than folly doth of a sumptuous feast. " A little, " saith
the Psalmist, " which the righteous hath is more than great revenues of the wicked "
(Psa. xxxvii. 16). A little wealth, a little knowledge, nay, a little grace, may
be so husbanded and improved that the increase and harvest may be greatest
where there is least seed. It is strange, but yet we may observe it, many
men walk safer by starlight than others by day. Many times it falls out thai
ignorance is more holy than knowledge. 1. Shall we now take pains to measure
our faith by this woman's ? We may as well measure an inch by a pole, or an atom
by a mountain. We are impatient of afflictions and reproaches. 2. But next,
for humility: who vouchsafeth once to put on her mantle? 3. Lastly: For
our perseverance and fervour in devotion, we must not dare once to compare
them with this woman's. For, Lord! bow loath are we to begin our prayers^
and how willing to make an end ! Her devotion was on fire ; ours is congealed'
OBiP. yn.] 8T. MARK, 987
and botmd up with a frost. But yet, to come up close to our text, our Saviour
mentions not these, but passeth them by in silence, and commends her faith.
Not but that her patience was great ; her humility great, and her devotion
great: but because all these were seasoned with faith, and sprung from faith,
and because faith -^hb it which caused the miracle, He mentions faith alone, that
faith may have indeed the pre-eminence in all things. 1. Faith was the virtue
which Christ came to plant in His Church. 2. Besides, faith was the fountain from
whence these rivulets were cut, from whence those virtues did flow. For had she
not believed, she had not come, she had not cried, she had not been patient, she had
not humbled herself to obtain her desire, she had not persevered ; but having a firm
persuasion that Christ was able to work the miracle, no silence, no denial, no le-
proach, no wind could drive her away. 3. Lastly ; Faith is that virtue which sea-
sons all the rest, maketh them useful and protitable, which commends our patience
and humility and perseverance, and without which our patience were but like the
heathen's, imaginary, and paper-patience, begotten by some premeditation, by habit
of suflfering, by opinion of fatal necessity, or by a stoical abandoning of all affec-
tions. Without faith our humility were pride, and our prayers babbling. For
whereas in natural men there be many excellent things, yet without faith they are
all nothing worth, and are to them as the rainbow was before the flood, the same
perhaps in show, but of no use. It is strange to see what gifts of wisdom and tem-
perance, of moral and natural conscience, of justice and uprightness, did remain,
not only in the books, but in the lives, of many heathen men : but this could not
further them one foot for the purchase of eternal good, because they wanted the
faith which they derided, which gives the rest to (piKvpov, " a loveliness and beauty,"
and is alone of force to attract and draw the love and favour of God unto us. These
graces otherwise are but as the matter and body of a Christian man, a thing of itself
dead, without life : but the soul which seems to quicken this body, is faith. They
are indeed of the same brotherhood and kindred, and God is the common Father
unto them all : but without faith they And no entertainment at His hands. As
Joseph said unto his brethren, " You shall not see my face except your brother be
with you '* (Gen. xUii. 3) ; so, nor shall patience and humility and prayer bring us
to the blessed vision of God, unless they take faith in their company. You see,
our Saviour passeth by them all : but at the sight of faith He cries out in a kind of
astonishment, " O woman, great is thy faith ! " And for this faith he grants her
her request : " Be it unto thee even as thou wilt : " which is my next part, and
which I will touch but in a word. U. Fiat tibi is a grant ; and it follows close at
the heels of the commendation, and even commends that to. (A. Farindon, D.D.)
Suffering tends to Christ : — No wind so powerful to drive us from Tyre and Sidon to
Christ, from the coasts of sin to the land of the living, as calamity. {Ibid.) Light
drawn out of darkness : — Here is a cloud drawn over her ; yet her faith sees a star in
this cloud ; and by a strange kind of alchemy she draws light out of darkness, and
makes that sharp denial the foundation of a grant. (Ibid.) Prayer richly
answered : — •• Then Jesus answered and said unto her, 0 woman, great is thy faith :
be it unto thee even as thou wilt." Before, silence ; now, admiration : before, a re-
proof ; now, a commendation : before, a " dog ; ** now, a '* woman ; " before, not a
crumb : now, more bread than the children. She cried before, and Christ answered
not ; but now Christ answers, and not only gives her a crumb, but the whole table ;
answers her with "Be it unto thee even as thou wilt! " (Ibid.) Si^.a prayers
take long to answer: — If God's chastisements make you better, thank God for them.
Those unfeeling words, that cold look, and that indifferent way of Christ — what a
gush of feeling they brought out of this woman's soul I That pushing away — ^how
it brought the pleading hands out, as it were ! How it caused every tendril and
fibre of her heart to clasp and cling to the Saviour, and made her refuse to let Him
go I It was out of the apparent winter of His face that her summer came. It was
out of His repulsion that her blessing came. Any defiling that makes you better
inside is beneficial. And do not feel when God is dealing with you severely that He
has forgotten you. It takes a great while to answer some prayers. One day an acorn
looked up and saw an oak tree over it, and did not know that this tree was its father,
and pleaded with Nature, saying, ** Make me such a one as that." So the 6(iuirrel
took it, and raced off with it towards its nest ; and on the way he dropped it on a
ledge where there was a httle soil, and lost it. There it germinated, and its roots
Btruck down. And after a year the little whip cried, •' I did not pray to be a little
whip ; 1 prayed to be like that oak tree." But God did not hear. The next year it
grew and branched a little ; but it was not satisfied ; and in its discontent it said :
MS THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [OHir. tb.
** 0 Natare, I prayed that I might be like that yolmninoiia oak, and now see what
a contemptible little forked stick I am." Another year came, and the winter froze
it, and the summer storms beat on it, and it tugged away for its life, and ita roots
ran ont and twined themselves around rocks and whatever else it could get hold oft
and fed on the hillside. So it grew and grew till a hundred yea*D had passed over
it. Then behold how on the hillside it stands firm, and defies the winter storms
and tempests. Then behold how it spreads itself abroad, and stands an oak indeed,
tit to be the foundation of a prince's palace, or the keel of a ship that bears a
nation's thunder round the globe I You cannot be transformed in an instant. You
cannot be changed between twilight and sunrise. When, therefore, you pray that
God will regenerate your nature, will you not give Him time to do such a work 7
When you pray for the reconstruction of your character, will you not wait till God
can perform such an act of mercy ? If, looking at the interior. He sees that the work
can be expedited, He will expedite it ; but you must be patient. (H. W, Beecher.)
Great faith found amongst the Gentiles who toere to gain the most by it: — If it be
through the special virtue and dignity of the grace of faith that the new dispensa-
tion is enabled to make itself commensurate with the world, it seems peculiarly
appropriate, that the chief examples of that grace, which was thus to equalize the
claims of all the races of mankind, should have been selected from among those who
were to gain the advantage in this equalization. {W. A. Butler, M.A.) A gradual
transition from Jew to Gentile : — Nor, perhaps, is it altogether unworthy of notice
in this point of view, that when the Church was indeed to be declared a Church of
Gentile no less than Jew, the first believer — the common ancestor of the world of
evangelized heathen — was a man holding the same o£fice, and, it would appear,
similarly connected in habits and disposition with the Jews : for as it is said of
the Centurion of the Acts, that he was " one that feared God, and gave much alms
to the people, and prayed to God alway *' — so it is likewise said of the Centurion of
the Go?pel, that **he loved their nation, and had built them a synagogue." And I
may add that this respectful attachment to the ancient people of Jehovah is very
discernible in the language of our immediate subject, the believing Ganaanite ; for
she not only addressed her Eedeemer in her supplication as ** the Son of David " (a
title which could appear honourable only to one who sympathized with the feelings
and prepossessions of a Jew), but even acceded to the justness of our Lord's strong
expressions when He classed her nation as " dogs " in comparison with the long
adopted *• children " of God. However this may be, the choice of the previous
friends and reverers of Israel, as the special instances of Gentile faith in Christ,
may be considered in a view beyond this ; not merely as a striking exemplification
of that law of gradual transition which seems to pervade all the works of God,
spiritual no less than physical — the heathen being partially Judaized before he be-
comes wholly enlightened, but also as manifestly rendering these instances more
appropriate types of the entire work of Gentile conversion — externally, of the
preaching of the gospel to the heathen in all ages, which in all ages must include
so large a Jewish element, must build itself upon Jewish history, authenticate
itself by Jewish prophecy, and proclaim, its great Subject the fulfilment of Jewish
types ; internally of the parallel story of the gospel life in the soul, which, perhaps,
finds every man more or less a Jew in heart, in pride, self-reliance, spiritual ignor-
ance, and formality — before it conducts him into the humility, the faith, the illu-
mination, and the liberty of the gospel. {Ibid.) A prayer that involved an
argument : — " I am not sent but to Israel," said Jesus. ♦' She came," not with
an argument, but a prayer that involved an argument, " and worshipped Him, say-
ing, Lord, help me I " She no longer calls Him Son of David, for her object waste
rise from the Son of David to the Son of God, from the Messiah of the Jew to tlr\
Messiah of the world — to " the Lord " in the simple majesty of the name, yea, ta
"the mighty God, the Father of the everlasting age, the Prince of peace.' She,
therefore, designates Him by the vaster and ampler title, and adds to her designa-
tion " worship." She insinuated that " the Lord " had power above His commission ;
that this plenipotentiary of heaven could at will transcend the terms of His
instructions; and by that omnipotence which ruled the world it had created, she
invoked Him, " Lord, help me ! " But even this is ineffective. Faith must see
more than power ; and the Canaanite must pay a price for being the model of the
Church to come. Like Him she implored, she must be " made perfect through suf-
ferings." For, alas, omnipotence acts by mysterious and often exclusive laws;
though the agent be almighty, the object may be unfit for its operation ; the same
power that bade Garmel blossom left Sinai a desert. ** It is not meet to take th«
«BAP. VII.] 8T, MARK,
289
J il!"®??,^®.?^:"'**^ *'*^V*,^^*'^^» "^^* ^« children (St. Mark adds) first
be fiUed 1 But now for a bolder flight of the eagle-wing, and a keener glance of
the eagle eye of faith. She springs from the supreme control to the benevolent
equity of providence. She rises above the clouds of the Divine power, often
to us who can only see them from below, dark, disturbed, and stormy, into
the holy serenity beyond them. She sees the calm Sovereign of the universe, par.
tial, yet impartial too ; preferring some, yet forgetting none. She knows that "His
care 18 over all His works," and-deepest wonder of her heaven-sent enlightenment
--she can see that He loves her, and yet accord His unquestionable right to love, if
He please it, others more ; allows she can ask but Uttle, yet beUevingly dares to
pronounce that httle certain 1 She will permit (would to God we coiUd always
follow her in our speculations I) no mystery of dispensation to contradict the truth
of the Divme character "Truth, Lord," is her retort, for the calmness of her
settled convictions left her power to point her reply: " Truth, Lord 1 yet the dogs
eat of the crumbs which fall from their master's table. " Everything is here ^
Christianity IS concentrated in one happy sentence. She believes in her own 'lowU-
ness : she beheves m God's absolute supremacy ; she beheves in the secret propriety of
the apparent mequalities of His providence; she beheves that those inequamies can
never affect the true universahty of His love. God is all, yet she is something too for
she 18 God 8 creature. Men from deep places can see the stars at noon-day: and from
the utter depths of her self-abasement she catches the whole blessed mystery of
heaven : like St. Paul's Christian, "in having nothing, she possesses all things." (Ibid )
The power of faith shown in the woman of Canaan :-^We may learn from this
narrative— L That misfortunes and calamities, however severe and painful they may
appear, are the best, and often the only means of leading us to a sense of religious
duty. II. That no want of present success should ever lead us to despair IH
That the lowest station, and even the vilest in heart, are still within the reach of
the sanctifymg mercies of their Redeemer. This woman belonged to an outcast race
(ii. Farkm8on,B,D,) The woman of Canaan ;— 1. Her faith had a good founda-*
tion. She called Jesus "the Son of David.'» 2. Her faith made her very dUigent
to seek out Chnst, when she heard that He was m the country. (E. Bleneowe, M.A \
The Syrophemcian woman ;— " Jesus went thence. " The persons and places that
have been favoured with Christ's presence and instructions may not be always so-
havmg dehvered His message, and done His work, He will remove. The day is
Smg away, and night will succeed. Happy they who, while they have the light.
low how to use it ; and, having Jesus with them, make sure of an interest in Him
before He go from them. 1. The euppUant. 2. The title she speaks to our Lord
by-" O Lord. Thou Son of David." 3. The request. L Tra tbiaJ and difficulties
OTM suPMJANT'a FAITH MET WITH. 1. Though she cries, Christ is whoUy silent.
How great a tnal is this, to speak to the only Saviour, and have no return ; to cry
to a mereiftU Saviour, and meet no regard. Prayers may be heard, yet kept in
suspense. A bitter aggravation of affliction (Lam. iii. 8; Cant. v. 6 ; Psa. xxu 2
tox. 3, btxvu. 7, 8, 9). This a trial, considering the encouraging character under
which God 18 made known to His people (Psa. Ixv. 2, 1. 16 ; Isa. Ixv 24) 2
Chnst seems to intimate that He had nothing to do with her. He was able to savel
but salvation was not for her. 3. When her request was renewed, Christ seems to
answer it with reproach. H. Having spoken of the trial of this woman's faith, I
COMB TO CONSIDER HOW IT WAS DISCOVERED, AND WOEKED THROUGH ALL. 1 ThoUgh
Chnst was silent she did not drop, but continued her suit. The eternal Word woiSd
not speak to her, the wisdom of the Father would not answer her, the compassionate
Jesus would take no notice of her, the heavenly Physician would not yet help her-
but all thiB does not discourage or sink her. How does the earnestness of this
Heathen in crying after Christ reproach the ignorance and ingratitude of the Jews
who generally made hght of Him ; and invite all that hear it, to admire her faith
thus discovered, and the grace of God in general wherever it works. Faith enabled
her to read an argument in Christ's silence, and by it she continued her suit. The
same words that bid us pray, bid us wait too (Psa. xxvii. 14). 2. When Christ
speaks, and seems to exclude her out of His commission to give help and reUef
she passeth over the doubt she could not answer, and, instead of disputing, adorea
Him, and prays to Him still Two or three things are here implied, as what she
kept her eye upon, and by which she was quickened and helped on in praying to
Chnst wmdst so many discouragements, which otherwise would have been enough
to smk her. (1) Upon her deep necessity. It was a deplorable case her child was m.
being gnevouBly vexed with a devil, from subjection to which she eamesUy dedred
290 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [ohap. vn.
to Bed her set free. (2) Upon Christ's power, and His oompassioii joined with it,
that He and He only could, and, as she hoped, would relieve her. Her faith as to
this is manifested by her coming to Him, and by the title she gives Him, of
Lord — " Lord, help me." (3) Upon Him, as the Messiah promised of God, the
great Deliverer, and so worshipped Him, and cast herself upon £Um, with this strong
cry, uttered by a stronger faith, " Lord, help me." This was the discovery of this
supplicant's faith under trials. Now followeth — ^HI. The happt issue or this, in
her faith's triumph. " Then Jesus answered and said unto her, 0 woman, great is
thy faith ; be it unto thee even as thou wilt." To how blessed an issue is the struggle
brought 1 Christ's answer before was not so discooraging as this was comfortable.
What consolation is it fitted to convey, as it is the testimony of one that knew the
heart, and given after a manner most fit to revive it ? 1. Her faith was owned,
commended, and admired by the Author of it, whose words are always spoken
according to truth, most clearly and certainly. 2. The reward of her faith was ample,
as large as her desires were, to have it to be, " Be it unto thee even as thou wilt."
And how fast and far will a sinner's thoughts and desires fiy after good things ? What
a compass will they take ? Looking downward he will say, I desire to be delivered
from the bottomless pit, that my soul may not be gathered with sinners, nor my
portion be with them in their place of torment ; and Christ will say, " Be it unto
thee even as thou wilt." Looking inward, his language will be, O tiiat I may be
delivered from this body of death. Looking upward to the mansions of glory, the
believer cries, 0 that heaven may be mine. (I). Wilcox.) Power and efficacy oj
prayer ;— I. Pbateb in its opportunities. Some are more highly favoured with
opportunities of prayer than others. Many are early instructed in its nature, &c.,
others are destitute of such instruction : such was the case probably with the
Cauaanitish woman who so urgently presented her suit to our Lord. 1. Seasons oi
aiiliction furnish opportunities for prayer. 2. The special presence of Christ, either
at times of public worship, or in the influence of His Spirit in private, furnish
opportunity for prayer. It was the presence of the Saviour in the immediate
ntdghbourhood of the Cauaanitish woman that induced her to come to Him. H.
Prayer in its objects. 1. It ought to be personal. •• Lord, help me," is the
language of true prayer. 2. It ought to be intercessory. HI. Pbateb in its
discouragements. IV. Pbayeb in its success. Prayer to be successful — 1. Must
be persevering. 2. Must be offered in faith. *' O woman, great is thy faith." {Anon.)
This woman's nationality is emphasized by the Evangelists with a variety of expres-
sions. She is characterized vaguely as ** a Greek," not in the limited sense with
which we are most familiar, but as a genuine term for non- Jewish people, very much
as the Turks uxid Asiatics adopt the designation of ♦' Frank " for any European. Her
personal name has come down through tradition as Justa, and that of her daughter
as Bernice. She is called by St. Matthew *• a woman of Canaan " — an inhabitant
of the region into which those who escaped extermination had been shut up ; and
the title may have been selected to enhance the loving-kindness of the Lord, not
without reference to her inheritance of the ancient malediction, "Cursed be
Canaan." She is also called here a Syrophenician by descent, probably to dis-
tinguish her from those Libyo-Phenicians in the northern coasts of Africa, whom the
fame of Carthage had made so widely known. She was, no doubt, in religion a
heathen, but was possessed by principles which, when called into active exercise by
the Great Teacher, served her in better stead than the orthodox creed did not a few
of its professors. {H. M. Luckock, D.D.) She was a heathen in religion, an
ahen in race, a dweller in a city hardly surpassable for antiquity, enterprise,
wealth, or wickedness. She had been doubtless a worshipper of the Syrian goddess
whose worship covered the Levant ; the deity who personified the fulness of Divine
life which fills the world ; who was loved by the purest because they deemed her
the giver of their children ; and yet worshipped with loathsome devotion by the
vilest because she was supposed to sanction all action of human lust. A Hindoo
mother, worshipping Doorga, in her brighter aspect, reproduces exactly the sort of
feeling and devotion in which this woman had been reared. She was thus ill-placed,
for the favourite deity corrupted the morals of the people exactly in the degree they
worshipped her. Yet her faith receives a tribute of highest praise from her Saviour,
and she is, I suppose, the first heathen converted to the faith and the salvation of
the Son of God. {R, Glover.) The action of faith: — Faith is a great mystery.
To doubt, nothing is needed but weakness ; to believe, requires great energy or groat
necessity. Observe the creed which has grown in this woman and now shows itself.
1. She believes in miracles. The lukewarm, who are rich and increased in goods,
«HAP. vn.J ST. MARK. 231
are anbelieving ; for, needing nothing, they cannot believe in what they see no
need for. But the needy, whose case is desperate, have other thoughts. All the
afflicted tend to settle in this creed, that there must be somewhere a cure for every
trouble. So the miracle of healing a demoniac child seems quite possible to her.
2. She believes, in some measure, in the Divinity of Jesus — viz., that he can do
what mere man cannot do ; that He is omnipotent to save. 3. Sho believes in the
love of Christ. Her mother-love has given her a new idea of God's love. If she
were God, she thinks, she would succour the wretched and bind up the broken heart.
And she feels that Christ's heart must be full of love — even to a helpless heathen.
(Ibid.) The Syrophenician woman : — This story places before us a pattern of
meekness and perseverance rarely equalled. 1. How many, even with privileges of
teaching and education to which she was a stranger, would have taken offence at
the apparent insult of such a reception as she met with. But with all the forbear-
ance of the meek and quiet spirit, which disarms opposition, she discerned a smile
beneath His frown, and won her petition. 2. How many, if not offended and full
of resentment, would have turned away discouraged. To have hoped, as she had
done, against hope, and then to have heard that there was One who could give her
relief, and to have flung herself at His feet in the agony of supplication, and to be
flo received I Could we have been surprised if despair had taken possession of her,
and she had hurried from His presence ? 3. But faith triumphed over all disap-
pointment, and her desire was granted. Whether it was given to her to understand
it we cannot tell ; but the seeming harshness of her Saviour's conduct was bat a
new revelation of his unfailing love. The same love which, when faith was weak,
prompted Him to go forth to meet it, led Him to hold Himself back when faith
was strong, that it might be yet further purified and made perfect through trial
{H. M. Luckock, D.D.) The dogs : — She had often heard her people characterized
as " dogs." It was a title by which the Jews, whose first care it was to hate, to
mock, and to curse all besides themselves, disgraced the Gentiles. The noble
nature of the dog finds no recognition in the history of the Old or New Testaments.
Among Jews dogs were regarded as wild, savage, undomesticated animals, which
prowled about cities as the scavengers of the streets, with no masters and no homes.
But Jesus, by the use of a diminutive not to be expressed in English, softened not
a little the harshness of the comparison, implying that the dogs to which He
likened this woman were not excluded from the house. And the woman with the
instincts of a Gentile, with whom the dog was not only a favourite but an almost
necessary companion, having its place at the domestic hearth, turned it at once
into an argument in her favour, and replied, " Yes, Lord, I accept the position ;
for the dogs under the table eat of the children's crumbs." What she meant to
convey must have been something like this : '* I do not deny that the Jews are the
first object of your care and ministration. They are the true children, and I am
far from asking that they should ever be superseded in their rightful prerogative ;
but the very fact that you should speak of their being first fed seems to imply that
our turn will come after them, and your mitigation of the harsh unfeeling by-word
which the Jews adopt, encourages me to persevere in my petition. Let the full
board, then — the plentiful bread of grace — ^be reserved for the Jewish children ; but
only let me be as the dog under the table, to partake of the crumbs of mercy and
comfort that fall from it." (Ibid.) Faith improved by trial : — Compare with the
testing of the Syrophenician woman's faith, God's trial of Abraham (Gen. xxii.
1-19), and note the rich reward which triumphant faith won in both instances.
Pure gold loses nothing in the testing for alloys ; the diamond shines all the more
clearly for being rid of the rough surface which hid its hght. Dogs : — Duff, the
African missionary, was about to begin a gospel service in a Boer farmer's house,
when he noticed that none of the Kaffir servants were present. To his request that
they might be brought in, the Boer replied roughly: ''What have Kaffirs to do
with the gospel ? Kaffirs, sir, are dogs." Duff made no reply, but opened his
Bible, and read his text : " Yes, Lord ; yet the dogs under the table eat of the
children's crumbs." ** Stop," cried the farmer, ** you've broken my head. Let
the Kaffirs come in.**
Vers. 81-87. And they Xxring unto ^^^ one that was deaf; and had an Impediment
tnblB speech.— T^ pattern of service:— The " missionary spirit " is but one aspect
of the Christian life. We shall only strengthen the former as we invigorate the
latter. Harm has been done, both to ourselves and to this great canse, by seeking
to stimolate compassion and efforts for heathen lands by tne use of other excite-
298 TEE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [coat, m»
mcnts, which have tended to vitiate even the emotions they have aronsed, and are
apt to fail U8 when we need them most. It may therefore be profitable if we turn to
Christ's own manner of working, and His own emotions in His merciful deeds, aa
here set forth for our example. We have here set forth — I. The foundation and
CONDITION op all TKDB WORK FOB GoD, IN THE LoRD'S HKAVENWABD LOOK. That wist-
lul gaze to heaven means, and may be taken to symbolize, our Lord's conscious
direction of thought and spirit to God as He wrought His work of mercy. Such in-
tercourse is necessary for us too. It is the condition of all our power, and the
measure of all our success. Without it we may seem to realize the externals of
prosperity, but it will be an illusion. With it we may perchance seem to spend our
strength for naught ; but heaven has its surprises ; and those who toiled, nor left
their hold of their Lord in all their work, wiU have to say at last with wonder, as
they see the results of their poor efforts, " Who hath begotten me these ? behold, I
was left alone ; these, where had they been ? " The heavenward look is — 1. The
renewal of our own vision of the calm verities in which we trust. 2. It will guwrd
us from the temptations which surround all our service, and the distractions which
lay waste our lives. II. Pity for thb evils we would remove, by the Lord's sigh.
It is a sharp shock to turn from the free sweep of the heavens ; starry and radiant,
to the sights that meet us on earth. Thus habitual communion with God is the
root of the truest and purest compassion. He has looked into the heavens to little
purpose who has not learned how bad and how sad the world now is, and how God
bends over it in pitying love. And pity is meant to impel to help. Let us not be
content with painting sad and true pictures of men's woes, but remember that every
time our compassion is stirred and no action ensues, our hearts are in some measure
indurated, and the sincerity of our religion in some measure impaired. III. Lovino
contact with those whom we would help, in the Lord's touch. The would>be
helper must come down to the level of those whom he desires to aid. We must
seek to make ourselves one with those whom we would gather into Christ, by actual
familiarity with their condition, and by identification of ourselves in feeling with
them. Such contact with men will win their hearts, as well as soften ours. It will
lift us out of the enchanted circle which selfishness draws around us. It will
silently proclaim the Lord from Whom we have learnt it. The clasp of the hand
will be precious, even apart from the virtue that may flow from it, and may be to
many a soul burdened with a consciousness of corruption the dawning of belief in »
love that does not shrink even from its foulness. IV. The true healino power and
the consciousness of wieldino it, in the Lord's authoritative Word, That word
is almighty, whether spoken by Him, or of Him (John xiv. 12). We have everything
to assure us that we cannot fail. The work is done before we begin it. The word
entrusted to us is the Word of God, and we know that it liveth and abideth for ever.
Nothing can prevail against it. (A. Maclaren, D.D.) Ephphatha :—l. Tsachino
FOR THOSE WHO WOULD FOLLOW THE LoBD IN DoiNO GOOD. 1. Be Considerate. Deal
with each case according to its need. 2. Look up to heaven. It is the privilege ol
serving God to create correspondence with God. He who does good, enters into alli-
ance with heaven. 3. Sigh. *♦ Shall the heirs of suaful blood, seek joy unmixed in
charity ? " Doing good is lessening evils ; contact with evils makes us serious — sad.
Therefore many avoid it aU they can — avert eyes from realities around them, attend
only to what will please and amuse. Selfish creatures, children of world, who haVe
not the Spirit of Christ. Those who have will, in this, share His experience.
Sadness in sympathy : pain in disappointment. II. Admonition to all to whom
THE Word of God comes. Their case was before Christ's mind. The deepest cause
of His sigh and sorrow was that they were spiritually deaf, and therefore spiritually
dead. " Hear, and your soul shall live." (T. D. Bernard.) Deaf mutes .-—I.
Many cannot speak because they are deaf, so some souls are silent because they are
dull of hearing. IL Christ sighs over faculties misused or destroyed. HI. We need
this miracle in our souls — the opening of the ear, and the loosening of the tongue.
IV. When one was healed many sought healing (Matt. xv. 80), and found it, till the
half-heathen people summed up their experience in a word which describes all
Christ's action in miracles, providence, and grace — *' He hath done all things well.**
(R. OUwer.) He took him aside : — Thus it is that God's greatest works are per*
formed. Crowds may admire the full-blown rose, but in silence and secrecy ita
leaflets have been folded in the bud. The broad river bears navies on its bosom, but
amid the mosses and ferns of the lonely mountain it takes its rise. In this instance,
when the man and his Saviour were alone together, there was asmncb care bestowed
on him as if there were none else in the world. I. The obbatness of Ood's urn-
L] 8T, MARK. 393
How difflonlt to oonoeive that one indiyidnal can be of importance to its
Bnler. Hore we see each soal standing in His sight aside from all the rest ; (1)
Aside for responsibility ; (2) Aside for affection. 11. Ik ths wobk of spibitual
HXAUKO, Ghbist dsals IN THE 8AMB WAY STiLii. 1. lu childhood, by a mother's
▼oioe. 2. In after years, by books, sermons, friends, trials. The conscience is
touched ; we stand face to face with God. III. The healed nc body uioht oo back
TO THB MULTITUDE. The healed in soul must stay aside. In the world, but not of
it. His objects of life, tastes, aspirations, are different from those of the multitude.
He must be much alone with Cluist in prayer, communion, and study. Alone, but
not lonely. IV, The final taking aside. Death. Aside from the earthly multitude,
its toil, bustle, and sorrow : united with the great multitude whom no man can
number. (F. R. Wynne, M.A.) Healing the deaf and dumb man .-—Jesus speaks
to him in signs. (1) Takes him aside from the multitude — alone with Jesus ; (2) puts
His fingers into his ears — these are to be opened ; (3) touches his tongue with His
saliva—Christ's tongue is to heal his ; (4) looks up to heaven and sighs— God's help
in man's sorrow ; (6) speaks the word " Ephphatha " — and the man speaks plain.
(T. M. Lindsay^ D.D,) He took him aside : — Teaching us by this act — 1. To
avoid vainglory in all our works of mercy to others. 2. That the penitent must
separate himself from the crowd of worldly cares, tumultuous thoughts, and inordi-
nate affections, if he would find rest for his soul in God. 3. That he must tear
himself from the company of evil and frivolous companions, and from the bustle of
incessant occupation. 4. That Christ alone can heal the soul. He took from the
deaf and dumb man any trust that he might have had in those who stood by. 5.
He leaves also this lesson to His ministers, that if they would heal the sinner by
their reproof , they should do this when he is alone. (W. Denton^ M.A.) The
mccessive steps in the conversion of tlie sinner : — I. The departure from the multitude,
i.e., from evil companions, sinful desires, corrupt practices. 2. The favour which
comes from Christ, who gives us both the sight of our sins, and the knowledge of
God's will ; and then strengthens us to obey His commands. 3. The confession of
our sins which is given us when Christ touches our tongue with the wisdom which
is from above, and gives us grace to acknowledge God by word and deed. {Jhid.)
Meaning of Christ's action : — The whole action would seem to have been symbolical,
and accurately suited to the circumstances of the case. Translate the action into
words, and what have we but sayings such as these ? " I have taken thee aside from
the multitude, that thou mightest observe and remember Who it is to Whom thou
hast been brought. Thine organs are imperfect : here are members of thy body,
which are useless to the ends for which they were given, and I am about to aot on
them with a power which shall supply all defects. Yet I would have thee
know that this power is but a credential of My having come forth from God, and
should produce in thee belief of My prophetical character. Behold, therefore : I
lift My eyes unto heaven, whilst I utter the word which shall give thee hearing and
speech. {H. Melvill, B.D.) The abuses and uses of speech : — I. Why did Christ
SIGH ? For us Christians, as well as for that poor Jew ; because, when He looked
up to heaven, He looked up to His home as God, and as God He had before His
omniscience all the sins which, through ear and tongue, had brought, were bring-
ing, and would bring, misery to man. II. Is there not still a cause why
Chbistians should sigh with Chbist ? 1. For blasphemous words. 2. Unbeliev-
ing, sneering words, and flippant, irreverent words. 3. False words ; the hes of
society, of vanity, of business, of expediency, of ignorance. 4. Obscene, lascivious,
wanton words. 5. Bitter, slanderous, and railing words. Of what does our con-
versation too often consist? First, there are self-evident platitudes about the
weather (very often murmurings of discontent with that which comes so plainly
ftnd directly from God) ; then, the old Athenian craving either to tell or to hear
some new thing, and that new thing, how commonly I an evil report about our
neighbour. ** Thou satest at thine ease," deliberately, in your home, at the table
of your friend, in the railway carriage, in the news-room, in the office, "thou satest
and spakest against thy brother." Instead of •♦ every man shall give an account
of himself," it might have been written, " every man shall give account of his
neighbour unto God," so eager are we to detect and remember his infirmities, to ignore
and forget our own. It never seems to strike as that, while we are so busy in
spying and pointing out to others the thistles in our neighbours* fields, the tares
are choking our own wheat. Our neighbours' idleness, lust, drunkenness, pro-
fanity, debt, — these are our theme ; and we forget that there is such a thing as a
judgment to eome for our own misdeeds. IIL The cube or the disease. L Not
9M THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [ohap. tii.
mere seeolar " edooation ** : that is only the pioneer, who saps and mines, not th«
artillery which destroys the citadel. If the fountain is poisonons, the filter may
remove the dirt whioh disoolonrs, bat it will not make the water wholesome. No
mental, no moral education, can directly act upon the soul. You may teach men
to speak more correctly and politely, to think more cleverly, and to reason more
closely ; but this will not pur^Ey the heart. Lust and dishonesty are all the more
dangerous, when they quote poetry, and converse agreeably. 2. Education is but
a means to an end. It is the ambulance on which we may convey the wounded
man to the surgeon — the couch on which we bring the sick man to Jesus.
Eegarded thus, education is a most useful handmaid to religion. Christ is the sole
physician ; to Him, and to none else, the sin-sick soul must come. IV. Faith in
HlH, STBENOTHKl^ED BY THE HoLT 8pIBIT, LEADS UB TO C0N8BGBATB OTTB POWEB OF
SPEECH TO His globy and the good of His cbeatubes. Y. The final issue.
The use we make of the tongue will decide our future (Matt. xii. 37). It is said
that one who had not long been converted to Christianity, once came to an aged
teacher of the faith, and asked instruction. The old man opened his Psalter, and
began to read the Psalm which first met his eye, the thirty -ninth ; but when he
had finished the first verse, " I said, I will take heed to my ways, that I offend not
in my tongue," his hearer stopped him, saying, ** That is enough ; let me go home
and try to learn that lesson." Some time after, finding that he came no more, the
elder sent to enquire the reason, and the answer was, ** I have not yet learned the
lesson " ; and even when many years had passed, and the pupil became a teacher
as fuU of grace as .\ears, he confessed that, though he had been studying it all his
life, he had not mastered it yet. (Canon S. B. Hole.) Christ's sigh : — What did
that sigh mean? 1. Sympathy for the afflicted. The incarnation brings the
heart of Jesus close to our own, and we know that He feels for our sorrows.
2. Grief at the effects of sin. Man, made in God's image, had become through
sin the poor dumb creature on which Christ looked. The thought of Eden
with its sinless inhabitants, and the sad contrast presented by the sight before
Him, made Jesus sigh. 3. Apprehension for the future. What use would the man
make of his restored faculties ? Hitherto he had been unable to let any corrupt
communication proceed out of his mouth, and his ears had been sealed to the
cruel, false, impure words of the world. What evil he might now do with his
tongue ; what poisonous words might now enter into his ears. (H. J. Wilniot
Buxton, M.A.) Sighs : — It is by prayer, and the secret sighs of the heart, that
Christ applies His merits, and that the Church does it after His example. If the
conversion of a sinner cost Jesus Christ so many desires, prayers, and sighs ; is
it unreasonable that it should likewise cost the sinner himself some t Is it not
necessary that His servants, called and separated to this work, should be men of
desires, prayers, and sighs ? That which Christ does here is the pattern which a
minister of the Church ought to follow, who, in the exercise of his ministry, ought
to lift up his heart toward heaven, to groan and sigh in behalf of those under his
hand, and to expect everything from Him who is the sovereign Master of all hearts.
(QuesneL) The sigh of disappointed desire : — We may readily understand how,
on the instant of working a miracle, a glance towards heaven might cause Christ
to sigh. Wherefore had He descended from that bright abode if not to achieve
its being opened to the lost race of man f And wherefore did He work miracles,
if not to fix attention on Himself as the promised seed of the woman who, through
obedience and death, was to reinstate our lineage in the paradise from which they
had Jbeen exiled for sin ? There was a sufficiency in the satisfaction which He
was about to make, to remove the curse from every human being, and to place
all the children of Adam in a more glorious position than their common parent
had forfeited. But He knew too well that, in regard of multitudes, His endurances
would be fruitless ; fruitless, at least, in the sense of obtaining their salvation,
though they cannot be in that of vindicating the attributes of God, and leaving
the impenitent self-condemned at the judgment. Therefore, it may be, did Christ
sigh ; and that, too, immediately after looking up to heaven. I can read the sigh;
it is full of most pathetic speech. "Yonder," the Redeemer seems to say, "i*
the home of My Father, of the cherubim and seraphim, I would fain conduct t»>
that home the race which I have made one with Myself, by so assuming their nature
as to join it with the Divine. I am about to work another miracle — ^to make, that
is, another effort to induce the rebelUous to take Me as their leader to yon glorious
domain. But it will be fruitless ; I foresee, but too certainly, that I shall still b#
despised and rejected of men." Then who can wonder that a sigh was interposed
€HAP. vn.] ST. MARK.
between the looking up to heaven and the uttering the healing word? The eye of
the Redeemer saw further than our own. It pierced the vault which bounds our
vision, and beheld the radiant thrones which His agony would purchase for the
children of men. And that men — men whom He loved with a love of which that
agony alone gives the measure— should refuse these thrones, and thereby not only
put from them happiness, but incur wretchedness without limit or end — must not
this have been always a crushing thing to the Saviour ? and more especially
when, by glancing at the glories which might have been theirs. He had heightened
His thought of their madness and misery ? I am sure that were we striving to
prevail on some wretched being to enter an asylum where he would not only be
sheltered from imminent danger, but surrounded with all the material of happiness,
a look at that asylum, with its securities and comforts, would cause us to feel sorer
than ever at heart, as we turned to make one more endeavour, likely to be useless
as every preceding one, to overcome the obduracy which must end in destruction.
Therefore ought we readily to understand why the Redeemer, bent only on raising
to glory a race, of which He foresaw that myriads would voluntarily sink down
to diame, gave token of a distressed and disquieted spirit, between looking towards
heaven and working a miracle — as though the look had almost made Him reluctant
for the work. (H. Melvill^ B.D.) Christ the opener of locked doors: — The
Ephphatha of Gnrist was not spoken in Decapolis alone. It is heard also in
history. He sighed ** Ephphatha," and the conflict of His Church was revealed to
His evangelist. He sighed " Ephphatha," and the tongue of GalUeo and Kepler
told of the wondrous order of the heavens. He sighed "Ephphatha," and buried
monuments gave up their records of the past, and threw side-lights on higher
truths. He spoke " Ephphatha," and Caxton gave new powers to the world.
Knowledge stepped forth from her dust-covered shrine, and carried her rich
bounties into every city and house. History unlocked her long-hidden lore.
Science painted in noble colours the half- veiled face of Nature. The tongue of
Europe was loosed. But well might a sigh have been heaved as the Ephphatha
was spoken. It is not truth alone, or holiness alone, which has been unlocked.
It is not Chaucer's " well of English undefiled," the pure song of Spenser, the
heart-rousing vision of Dante, the chivalrous epic of Tasso, the stately and mag-
nanimous verse of Milton alone which have been given to the world. A fouler
current mingles with the bright, pure stream, and darkens the flood of knowledge —
the unredeemed filth of Boccaccio, the unbridled licentiousness of Scarron, the
stupid sensuality of Dancourt, the open indecency of Wycherley, the more fatal
BU^gestiveness of Sterne. The press became indeed the voice of nations ; but when
it was loosed a sigh drawn from the pure heart of Christ, wounded by the misuse
of a glorious opportunity, might have been heard by the Church of God. Yet
Christ did not withhold the boon. Freely, ungrudgingly, were His miracles of love
performed. To deny powers or privileges, or the free exercise of rights and
faculties, on the ground that they may be abused, is to act according to the dictates
of expediency, not of right. But there is a remedy for the evils which accompany
this freedom. It is by conferring an additional and guiding gift. There is another
"Ephphatha." He speaks, "Be opened," and the tongue is loosed ; but the ear
is unstopped also. While He bestows the faculty of speech, He bestows also the
opportunity of hearing those glad and soul-elevating principles of righteousness,
and forgiveness, and love, which will fill the loosened tongue with joy, and put a
new song of praise in that long-silent mouth. {Bishop Boyd Carpenter.) His
ears were opened: — Christ first opened the man's ears, then untied his tongue;
because we must hear well, before we can speak well. (Pontanus.) The heavy ear
and speech of faith : — There are diseases of the soul as well as the body, and a
man's spiritual nature often needs, in order to its perfection, as great and almost
as miraculous a change as the gifts of speech and hearing to the dumb and deaf.
What shall we say of those who have no ears to hear what our Father in heaven
is always revealing to the hearts of those who love Him ? There are sounds in
nature which often arrest our attention in spite of ourselves ; there are messages
of grace which often touch the conscience in the midst of an ungodly course. Can
the discontented churl walk abroad, on a fine morning in the early summer, and
not find the joyous singing of the birds around him in some sort a condemnation
and a solace of his unthankful spirit? Can the moments of solema thought
(though they be but moments) which are awakened by the heavy roll of thunder,
pass away without our remembering how small and insignificant we ourselves are
in the hands of Him who made all created nature ? Is it possible that the old, old
296 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTEATOB. [oaup. tn,
Btory of Jesus GhriBt, onr Brother and our God, can be repeated without stirring ap
some desire to be with Him ? Or is it possible for us, who have our organs &l
speech perfect, to use that speech for every worldly object of profit or interest, and
yet to have no voice, because we have no heart, to join in earnest prayer, or utter
our songs of praise ? Is it possible, in short, for a professing Christian to harden
his heart, and to be deaf to the spiritual invitations which he listens to in God's Word,
in God's providence, and in God's whispers to his soul ? Alas, we know such things are
possible ; but we know also that He who imparted the gift of speech and bearing
to the afflicted one near the lake of Galilee is waiting, by His Spirit, to impskrt a
greater gift to every one of us, however careless and unfaithful and earthly has
been our life. The Lord our Master is ready {to bestow the hearing ear and the
speech of faith. (Dean Bramston.) The sigh of Jesus : — In all our Saviour's
sorrows — I do not enter now into the mysteries of Gethsemane and Calvary — ^but
in all the sorrows of our Saviour's life among men, there are two features
characteristic, beautiful, and instructive. Our Saviour's recorded sadnesses were
all for others. They were either, as at Bethany, sympathy with others' griefs ; or
as when He wept over Jerusalem, or when He encountered the opposition of the
Sadducees, for our sins ; the selfirfi element was unknown. Again, His sorrow was
never an idle sentiment There is a great deal of useless, impassioned feeling in
the world. Thousands are pained by the wickedness and misery they see around ;
they descant upon it ; they can even weep when they speak of it — but it leads to
no action. There is no effort ; there is no eelf-sacrifice. It is almost poetry. It
is but little more than the luxury of a tragedy. How different Hisl We never
read of a sigh or tear of Jesus, but it immediately clothes itself into a benevolent
word, or a benevolent work. I question whether, if we were in a right state, there
wo aid ever be a sorrow which did not throw itself into an action. Some receive
affliction passively and meditatively. They go into seclusion. But others at once
go forth the more. They see in their trial a call to energy. The sigh of Jesus, as
He healed the deaf and dumb man in Decapolis, has been made to speak many
languages, according to the varied habits of mind of those who have interpreted it.
I \nll arrange them under four heads, and we may call them: — the Sigh of
Earnestness ; the Sigh of Beneficence ; the Sigh of Brotherhood ; and the Sigh of
Hohness. Let us note each : lest, by omitting one, we should miss our lesson.
1. Because it says that " looking up to heaven. He sighed," some connect the two
words, and account that the sigh is a part of the prayer — an expression of the
intensity of the workings of our Lord's heart when He was supplicating to the
Father. And if, brethren, if the Son of God sighed when He prayed, surely they
have most of the spirit of adoption — such a sense of what communion with God is —
who, in theii- Very eagerness, exhaust themselves ; till every tone and gesture speak
of the struggle and ardour they feel withiiu 2. But it has been said again, that
He who never gave us anything but what was bought by His own suffering — so
that every pleasure is a spoil purchased by His blood — did now by the sigh, and
under the feeling that He sighed, indicate that He purchased the privilege to restore
to that poor man the senses he had lost. 3. But furthermore, as I conceive of this,
that sigh was the Sigh of Fellowship— the Sigh of Brotherhood. 4. But fourthly.
All this still lay on the surface. Do you suppose that our Saviour's mind could
think of all the physical evil, and not go on to the deeper moral causes from which
it sprang? But, after all, what is worth sighing for, but sin? And observe, He
only sighed. He was not angry. He sighed. That is the way in which perfect
holiness looked on the sins of the universe. {J. Vaughan, M.A.) The sigh of
apprehension: — Who among us has not sighed to look on his speechless child in
its cradle, thinking what words those iimocent lips might one day form f Who
Las not sighed when he first sent his boy to school, remembering what other lessons
must enter into his ears besides those of the class-room? Jesus looked up to
heaven as He performed the miracle of healing. Surely this was to teach the dumb
man to look up also, and to learn that every gift comes from above. {H. J. Wilmot
Buxtouy M.A.) Why Jesus sighed f — 1. This is not the only record of the sighs,
and tears, and troubled heart of Jesus (Heb. v. 7 ; Mark viii. 12 ; John xi. 33).
Truly He was ♦* a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief." So, to some extent,
have all His saints and children been. You must not suppose that our blessed
Saviour had no bright and joyous hours on earth. This joy of Jesus — deep joy,
though noble and subdued — is not our subject to-day, but I touch on it for one
moment only, lest any of you should take a false view of the life of man, or fatally
imagine that in this world the children of the devU have a monopoly of happiness.
OBAP. m.] ST. MARK. 297
Happiness ?— they have none. Guilty happiness ? there is no such thing ! Guilty
pleasure for a moment there is ; — the sweetness of the cup whose draught is poison,
the glitter of the serpent whose bite is death. Guilty mirth there is — the laughter
of Ibols, which is as the crackling of thorns under a pot. But guilty happiness
there never has been in any life, nor ever can there be. True happiness, happiness
in the midst of even scorn and persecution, happiness even in the felon's prison
and in the martyr's flame, is the high prerogative of God's saints alone— of God's
saints, and therefore assuredly, even in His earthly life, of Him the King of
Saints ; since there is in misery but one intolerable sting, the sting of iniquity,
and He had none. 2. But you will not have failed to notice that on two of the
occasions on which we are told that Jesus sighed and wept, He was immediately
about to dispel the cause of the misery. He was about to heal the deaf. Why
then should He have sighed ? He was about to raise the dead. Why then did the
silent tears stream down His face ? The doing of good is not a work of unmixed
happiness, for good men can never do all the good that they desire. They have
wide thoughts and much feeling for the rest of the world as well as for themselves ;
and this sort of happiness brings much pain. 3. My friends, there was in truth
cause enough, and more than enough, why the Lord should sigh. In that poor
afflicted man He saw but one more sign of that vast crack and flaw which sin
causes in everything which God has made. When God had finished His work, He
saw that it was veiy good ; but since then tares have been sown amid His harvest ;
an alien element intruded into His world; a jangling discord clashed into His
music. Earth is no longer Eden. 4. And alas, it is not only the unintelligent
creation which groans and travails. We ourselves, which have the flrstfruits of
the Spirit, we ourselves also groan within ourselves, waiting for the adoption, to
wit the redemption of the body. We are apt to be very proud of ourselves and of
our marvellous discoveries and scientific achievements; but, after all, what a
feeble creature is man I what a little breed his race ! what shadows we are, and
what shadows we pursue 1 We fade as the grass, and are crushed before the moth.
If we knew no more than Nature can tell us, and had no help but what Science
can give to us, what sigh would be too deep for beings born to sorrow as the sparks
fly upward? {Canon F. W. Farrar, D.D.) L The nattjbe of the miracle. One
of the most wonderful ever wrought. It was both a physical and mental miracle,
reaching the mind as well as the organs of the body. It not only conferred the
wanting faculties of hearing and pronouncing words, but also supplied an acquain-
tanoe with the meaning and use of words. Long and laborious discipline of the
tongue, and inward effects of memory, and association of ideas with particular
inflections of sound, are still necessary to enable us to employ that language as a
medium of communication. Here, however, was the impartation at once of both
hearing, and understanding of what was heard. It has been compared to the work
of creation ; it had in it all the elements of creativeness, beneficence, and Divine
power, from which we may see the majesty of our Saviour. II. The attendant
CIRCUMSTANCES of this miracle. UI. The spibitual siqnifzcanoe of this miracle.
There are disabilities upon every soul by nature akin to the deficiences of him
whose ears were deaf, and whose tongue was tied. The Great Healer ii now
among us. He can help anywhere, on the highway. This Ephphatha is prophetic.
It tells of the ultimate consummation of Christ's mediatorial work. (J. A. Seiss,
D.D.) Impediment in speech : — Notice, too, that those who are spiritually deaf
have also an impediment in their speech. This is shown in many different ways.
When I find persons who will not speak out boldly for the honour of Jesus Christ,
who will not confess Him before the world, I know they have an impediment in
their speech. When I find persons in church silent throughout the service, making
no responses, singing no psalm, or chant, or hymn, I know they have an impedi-
ment in their speech : they will not put their tongue to its right use, which is to
praise God with the best member that we have. If I find a man saying what is
false, hesitating to give a plain, straightforward answer, I know that he has an
impediment in his speech, his stammeriug ' )ugue cannot utter the truth. If I
hear a man wild with passion, using bad language, I know that he has an impedi-
ment, he cannot shape good words with his tongue. And so with those who tell
impure stories, or retail cruel gossip about their neighbour's character, they are all
alike afflicted people, deaf to the voice of God, and with an impediment in their
speech. And now let us look at the means of cure. (H. J, Wilmot Btixton^ M.A.)
Bringing men to Jesus: — They brought the afflicted man to Jesus. That is the
first step. II we would find pardon and healing, we must be brought to Jesus.
298 TEE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap. TB.
The Holy Spirit leads the sinner hack in many different ways. It was the reading
of one text of Scripture which turned Augustine from his evil life. It was the
single word " Eternity *' printed in the tract which a man had torn scofl&ngly in two,
and which lay in a scrap of paper on his arm, that led him to repent. Sometimes
it is a word in a sermon, or a verse in a hymn ; sometimes it is the question of a
little child, or the sight of a dead face in a cofdn ; but whatever it is which brings
us back to Jesus, that must be the first step to finding pardon and healing. (Ibid.)
Love and Sorrow: — I. That sigh, then, was a pbayxb. Probably Jesus, when
on earth, never did any great work without prayer. And how much of the
real force of prayer was concentrated in this one sigh? Let us not measure
the power of prayer by the time it occupies, or by the noise it makes. II. But
while the sigh was a prayer, thk pbateb was a sigh. But what does the sigh
suggest to us? 1. Not that He felt Himself incompetent to perform the task
sought at His hands. 2. Not that He felt any reluctance to bestow the requested
boon. Jesus was no miser in mercy. 3. Not that He felt that the performance of
this miracle would be in any respect inconsistent with the principles and purposes
of His mission to our world. I. It EBVEAiiS to us thk reality and intenbitt
or the Savioub's love to iNi>rvn>UAi< sufferers, n. It shows the ebennbss
WITH which the Savioub felt the evil of sin. in. Mat not that sigh
SUGGEST THAT THE SaVIOUB FELT THAT THE BOON Hj! WAS ABOUT TO BESTOW WAS A
COMPARATIVELY TBiviAL ONE ? He is ouly oue of miUious of men, all of whom are
victims of some misery, and all of whose miseries spring from the one cause— sin.
What have I done towards the accomplishment of My work when I have cured this
man? IV. That sigh reminds us of the essential central principle of th«
PHILOSOPHY OF SALVATION. Christ nevcT relieves a man of any curse the misery of
which He does not appropriate to Himself. In all our afflictions He is afflicted.
This sigh was the price He paid for an opened ear and a loosened tongue. What
spiritual blessing have you and I which He has not paid for in the sorrow of His
own experience? V. That bigh may well suggest to us the holy badness of
DOING GOOD. {J. p. Bamett,) The Saviour's Sigh : — •• He sighed " when about to
unstop deaf ears. Sighed when on the verge of opening the door by which the
music of nature and the welcome sounds of the human voice would enter the
hitherto silent regions within. Sighed when He was prepared to give power to the
mute organ of speech. Why, we should rather have expected that He would have
smiled, and, ** looking up to heaven," rejoiced. We do not sigh when engaged in a
mission of mercy. Far from it. When we take loaves to the famishing, or money
to the wretched bankrupt, we feel a throb of sacred delight. As we mark the pallid
invalid get stronger and better, or as we visit asylums for the deaf and dumb in
order to witness the compensations offered by us for the defects of nature, we are
filled with grateful happiness. Why did the Master sigh ? I. The answer bbinos
BEFOBB us the most IMPBESBIVE AND TBAOICAL FEATUBE IN THE SaVI0UB*8
experience. His whole life was a sigh. So utterly was this the case that we find
Him mournful even when about to perform a miracle of great mercy 1 Just as
there are dark spots on the bright sun, so even when suffused with celestial glory
on the Mount of Transfiguration the awful cross made its appearance, for " they
spake of His decease." Hardly had the cheerful hosannahs of the multitude died
away when He ♦• beheld the city and wept over it." To quote from Jeremy Taylor,
' * This Jesus was like a rainbow ; half made of the glories of light, and half of the
moisture of a cloud." We speak often of Christ's sacrifice in a one-sided style.
Too often we mean by His sufferings the death He endured. We think of Calvary.
The accursed tree rises before our imaginations. All these were dreadful indeed,
albeit they were not the sum but the consummation of His trials. They were the
closing pages of a volume filled with like details. He looked *' up to heaven," and
what saw He there ? Crowns prepared for men who would not seek them ; thrones
made ready for such as cared not to occupy them. U. What ought we to leabn
FROM the Saviour's sigh? 1. A lesson of consolation. Intense trouble seeks
solitude. In great affliction men often wish to be alone. Even in inferior creatures
something of this kind appears. The wounded deer retreats from the herd into the
dark recesses of the forest. The whale, smitten by the harpoon, dives into the
lowest depths of the sea. Human beings frequently prefer isolation when in trial.
Peter •* went out," when he saw the truth of his Master's prediction, and •• wept
bitterly." Of Mary, bereaved so heavily, the friends near her said, ♦' She went
forth unto the grave to weep there." Was there anything akin to this in oni
Lord 7 There was. Even in minor matters of such an order He was made " in all
¥u.] 8T, MARK, S99
points like unto His bretbren." Wbere did He sigh ? In company f In a crowd?
No. We are distinctly informed He " took him aside from tbe mnltitade." No
one heard Him sigh, not even the afflicted man, for he was unable to do so. The
sigh was between the Son and the Father. ** Looking to heaven," not to earth,
*' He sighed." Let ns be comforted in sorrow. These incidents clearly show how
qualified the Great High Priest is to sympathize with His disciples. He was once
as we ar& 2. Is there not a lesson of stimulus f Jesus did more than sigh. He
said, ♦♦ Ephphatha," and thus restored sound and speech to the sufferer before
Him. We must act as well as feel. Sighing will never reform the world, re-
generate humanity. We must work. Our effort should be to bring men to Him
who can still heal and restore. 3. There is also a lesson of caution. Possibly
there were special reasons for sorrow on the part of Christ in reference to the man
whom He healed. Perhaps the Eedeemer foresaw that the bodily restoration
would not lead to spiritual restoration, &o. Do we never sin with the ear ? with
the tongue ? Alas, none is innocent herein. The golden rule has not yet brought
our words into subjection to it. " Keep the door of my Ups." The grand thing is
to have oar hearts right, then all will be well. (T. R. Stevenson.) The iigh of
JesuM : — L The general btudt of the stoby would furnish several very excellent
and edifying lessons suggested by our Lord's action in working this miracle upon
the shore of Deoapolis. 1. We might note, earliest, the wide reach of the Master's
zeal : ** And again, departing from the coasts of Tyre and Sidon, He came unto the
Sea of Galilee, through the midst of the coasts of Decapolis.'* Jesus had just come
from Tyre and Sidon, clear across in a heathen land ; He was now in the midst of
some Greek settlements on the eastern shore of the Sea of Tiberias. We see how
He appears thns going upon a foreign mission. 2. Then, next, we might dwell
upon the need of friendly olBces in apparently hopeless cases. '*And they bring
unto Him one that was deaf, and had an impediment in his speech ; and they
beseech Him to put His hand upon him." 3. We might also mention, just here,
the manipulations of our Saviour as illustrating the ingenuity of real sympathy.
'* And He took him aside from the multitude, and put His fingers into his ears,
and He spit, and touched his tongue." 4. Even better still is our next lesson : we
observe our Lord's respect for every one's private reserves of experience. •* And He
took him aside from the multitude privately." We shall surely do better always,
when we biing souls to the Saviour, if we respect the delicacy of their organization,
and take them aside. 5. Now we notice the naturalness of all great services of
good. ** And looking up to heaven. He sighed, and saith unto him, Ephphatha,
that is, Be opened." At the supremely majestic moments of His life our Lord
became simpler in utterance and behaviour than at any other time. He fell back
on the sweet and pathetic speech of His mother-tongue. 6. Again : we learu here
the risks of every high and new attainment, " And his ears were opened, and the
bond of his tongue was loosed, and he spake plain. And He charged them that they
should tell no man : but the more He charged them, so much the more a great deal
they published it. And they were beyond measure astonished, saying. He hath done
aU things well ; He maketh even the deaf to hear, and the dumb to speak." What
will the restored man do with his gifts? II. The singular pecdliabity op this
sxoBT, however, is what might be made the subject of more extended remark in a
homiletic treatment. Three things meet us in their turn. 1. A question stands at
the beginning : Why did our Lord sigh when He was looking up to heaven ? 2.
We are left in this case to conjecture. And, in a general way, perhaps it would be
enough to say that there was something like an ejaculatory prayer in this sigh of
Jesus' soul; but more likely there was in it the outbreaking of sad and weary
sympathy with the suffering of a fallen race like ours. It may be He sighed
because there was so much trouble in the world everywhere. It may be He sighed
because there were many who made such poor work in dealing with their trouble.
It may be He sighed because He could not altogether alleviate the trouble He
found. Some worries were quite beyond the reach of His power. He did not come
to change the course of human affairs. Men are free agents ; Jesus could not keep
drunkards from killing themselves with strong drink if they would do it. It was
not His errand on earth to crush in order to constrain. It may be He sighed
because the trouble He met always had its origin and its aggravation in sin. This
was the one thing which His adorable Father hated, and against which He was a
'* consuming fire." It may be He sighed because so few persons were willing to
forsake the sins which made the trouble. It may be He sighed because the
spectacle of a rained and rebellious world saddened Him. When the old prophet
300 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. G<jha». ti^
came back from oaptivitj and fonnd Jerasalem in fragments; when Marina
returned and sat down among the broken stones of Carthage, we are not surprised
to be told that they wept, though both were brave men. But these give but feeble
illustration of the passionate mourning of soul which most have swept over the
mind and heart of Jesus, who knew what this earth had been when it came forth
pux« from the creating hand of His Father. No wonder He walked heavily de-
pressed and mournful all through His career. 8. It is time to end conjecture, and
come at once now to the admonition we find here in the story. Christians need
more " sighs." Christians must follow sighs with more '* looking np to heaven."
Christians may cheer themselves with the prospect of a new Ufe in which
sighing shall be neither needed nor known. The Saviour shall then have seen
of the travail of His soul, and shall be satisfied. ((7. S. Robinson, D,D.) Sorrow
in healing : — He sighed, and said. Be opened. The sigh therefore arose from no
feeling of helplessness to remove the malady. The cure followed, as ever, that
word of power. And yet He sighed as He said, Be opened. 1. He sighed, we
cannot doubt, at the thought of that destructive agency of which He had before
Him one example. Here was one whom Satan had bound. Here was an illustra-
tion of that reign of sin unto death to wliich the whole world bears witness. This
deaf and dumb man reminded Christ of the corruption that had passed over God's
pure creation : and therefore, looking up to heaven. He sighed. And it will be no
light gain, my brethren, if this thought should teach yon to see with your Saviour's
eye even those bodily infirmities which yon perhaps are tempted to regard almost
with ridicule, but which are making life a burden and a weariness to so many of
our feUow creatures. Eemember whence these things come; from the power of
him who has entered into God's creation to torture and to ruin God's handiwork.
2. But there was more than this, as we all feel at once, in that sigh. That outward
bondage was but the token of an inward thraldom. Whether healed or not in this
life, no bodily infirmity can have more than a temporary duration. Death must
end it. But not so that spiritual corruption of which the other was but a sign.
That inward ear which is stopped against God's sununons ; that voice of the heart,
which refuses to utter His praise ; these things are of eternal consequence. And
while bodily infirmities and disorders are occasional and partial in their occur-
rence, spiritual disease is universal. It overspreads every heart. And, as a mere matter
uf docUiue, I suppose we all assent to this. Without God's grace, we all admit, we
can know^ nothing and do nothing. But oh, how different our view of aU this and
Christ's I First of all, we shut out from our anxiety every case but our own. No
one by nature feels the value of his brother's soul : it is well if he bestows a thought
upon his own. But how differently did Christ view these things, when He sighed
as He opened the deaf man's ears 1 Christ sees sin as it is ; sees it in its nature,
as a defiance of God ; sees it in its effects, as leaving behind it in each heart that
it enters defilement, and weakness, and hardness, and misery ; sees it in its conse-
quences, as bringing forth fruit unto death — a death not of annihilation, not of
blank unconsciousness, but a death of unspeakable and interminable wretchedness.
3. He sighed therefore, we may say further, from a sense of the disproportion in
actual extent between the ruin and the redemption. The ruin universal. All the
world guilty before God. And yet the great multitude refusing to be redeemed.
(C. J. Vaughan, D.D.) The deaf man cured: — I. Consider first thb mak's intbo-
DucTioN TO Jesus. Now, in contemplating a fellow-creature in sueh sad ease, the
thought may well occur how Uttle are we affected by our common mercies 1 How
little think we of such blessings as preserved senses, nnshattered reason, the links
unbroken which connect us with the outer world, and all the faculties unimpaired
which fit us for the activities of life. And, though of all such privations, the gift
of sight is perhaps the one we should least like to have taken away, yet blindnesi
even may be less to be deplored than loss of hearing and speech. For this calamity,
unalleviated, and existing from birth, shuts up the soul of the sufferer in a per-
petual prison-house. He has no outlet for communion with his kind ; he has no
medium for the interchange of sentiment or emotion, until wearied with treading for
ever the same cycle of never-extending and never- wearied thought, he sinks into •
condition of utter mindlessness— God's image on a dark cloud, s sad wreck of
humbled and defaced humanity. It has been among the glorious achievements of a
soientifio philanthropy in our own day to have discovered means for abating somewhat
Che deep misery of this infliction; but any such alleviation was unknown then. So
they bring him to Jesus. Brethren, is there not some light thrown by this fact
oo th» put whic^ our friends are permitted to perform for us in reference to
«BAP. Tn.] ST. MARK. 301
the more helpless and hopeless forms of spiritual malady f What does this prove
bat that there are no men whose case is so bad and hopeless as that we must not tr^
to convert them, but rather in exact proportion to the hopelessness of a man'i
moral condition, is the obligation to do all we can for him. We are to pray for none
BO earnestly as for those who through the inveteracy of their soul's malady cannot
pray for themselves. II. But I pass to our second portion, to observe some pecd-
LIABITIES CONNECTED WITH THE METHOD OF THIS ATTLICTED MAN'S CURB. " And He
took him aside from the multitude, and put His fingers into his ears, and He spit,
and touched his tongue ; and looking up to heaven. He sighed, and saith unto him,
Ephphatha, that is, Be opened." Why were the methods used by our Lord in
working his miracles so diverse one from another? The only account to be
given of these variations is, that they had reference either to something in the
moral circumstances of the su£ferer, or to some effect to be produced in the mind
of the bystanders, or it might be, to some lesson of practical instruction which
through these typical healings might be conveyed to believers to the end of time.
Especially are we to suppose that in each case of the wrought miracle there was in
the method chosen some express adaptation to the circumstances of the person
benefitted — the state of his affections towards God, and his susceptibihty to become
a subject of the spiritual kingdom. For to this end we are sure our Divine Lord
worked always. Indeed, the benefit had been no benefit otherwise. To what pur-
pose had been the recovery of sight to a man only to look on the face of this outer
world, while his soul was left to grope its way through mists of an everlasting
blindness ? The instances seem to suggest that there are some persons, who, in
order to their learning holy lessons must be withdrawn from the world for a
season. They cannot have their ears effectually opened in a crowd — not even in a
crowded church. They must be forced into retirement. Anything Jesus might
say to them while the bustle and stir of life was upon them, whilst its feverish
excitements were drawing them hither and thither, would make no impression. On
coining to some retired place, however, our Lord proceeds to the miracle, but still,
observe, by a gradual process. He puts His fingers into the man's ears, then spits,
and with tiie moistened finger touches his tongue. As to the reasons for the choice
of these means, in preference to any other, it does not seem necessary to go further
than the circumstances of the man himself. Questions he could not answer ; verbal
dueotions he could not understand ; it was only by visible and sensible applications
to the organs affected, that he could be made to perceive what was going on, or
ooold connect Jesus with the authorship of his cure. All that we gather is, that
the case was one in which it would not be well that the blessing to be bestowed
should be instantaneous— that it was needful that time should be given for con-
sideration of what all those processes were to lead to — that faith should be exer-
cised, disciplined, taught to look up, expecting to receive something, and that the
soul before coming into that which would be to it as a new world, should know
who that Being was to whom it must dedicate all its restored faculties and powers.
And it is certain, brethren, that the Great Healer has recourse to like protracted
methods now. The ears of the deaf must be anstopped before the tongue of the
dumb can sing. The heart must believe unto righteousness, before with the
mouth confession is made unto salvation. But, then, how shall they beheve in
Him whom they have not heard, and how shall they hear who are born deaf ? Deaf
to the calls of mercy ; deaf to the alarms of danger ; deaf to the warning of con-
science ; deaf to the voice of the Son of God. Must there not, I say, be an open-
ing of the ears first 7 Must not the finger of Jesus be put into them, making a
passage through, so that His word may reach the heart. Brethren, let us all pray
lor unstopped ears. It is for oar life the prophet tells us — "Hear, and yoiu souls
shall live. " Oh, how far is he on the way heavenward who has an ear ever opeti to the
whisperings of the Divine Spirit I " And looking up to heaven, He sighed, and
said, Ephphatha, that is. Be opened." He looked up to heaven : so at the grave
of Lazarus He lifted up His eyes. On the deep mystery of our Lord's prayers.
They were as much prayers as yonrs or mine are prayers — and in connection with
His miracles were petitions, not for Himself, that He might be able to work them,
bat for the people that they might be able to receive them, that the benefit might
not be lost to them through the want of those moral dispositions, faith and love,
withoat which He could not, according to the sti ulations of the everlasting cove-
Ban^ have performed any wonderful work. The same view gives a reality to His
eontinaed interoession for ns at the throne of God. Christ does not pray for any.
thing relating to Hii own work— for His bio d that it may eleanae, for His
80a THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. tix.
righteousness that it may justify, for His pardons and acquittals, that they may be
endorsed and owned of God — these are among heaven's immutable things. What
He does pray for is the removal of those hindrances in our hearts which prevent
the free flowing of His mercy towards us, for the triumphs of His grace over all
our unbelief and worldliness, for the unclosed ear that the voice of the charmer
may pierce through, for the loosened tongue that it may magnify the grace of God.
"And He sighed," Again our thoughts revert to Bethany, where, just before
working the miracle it is said, He " groaned in spirit and was troubled." We may
see many reasons for the distress of soul on the part of the Holy Saviour. He sighed
over the spectacle before Him as evidence of the suffering and sorrow of our race ;
He sighed over it as a mournful defacement and distortion of God's moral image ;
but He sighed most of all over the stubborn unbelief, that miserable infidelity of
the heart, the one solitary obstacle in the whole universe of God, to the instan-
taneous wiping of all tears from off all faces, and the saving of every soul of
man. Yes, brethren, this last it was that wrung theee bitter sorrows from the
Saviour's heart. He could bear the scourge, disregard the mockery, endure the
cross, despise the shame ; that which next to the hidden face of God, rent His soul
most was, to be obliged to say continually, " Ye will not come unto Me, that ye
might have life." "Ephphatha, Be opened." Here the Almighty power of God
speaks. The taking him aside, the touching of the ear, the spitting and moisten-
ing of the tongue, the eye raised heavenwards, and the deep sigh, were all the
human preparations; the man's heart was getting ready, the grace of Jesus making
way for the demonstration of His power, the Spirit of God was moving upon the
face of a dark soul before the irresistible word should go forth, " Let there be light ; "
and as irresistible was the word of Jesus to this poor sufferer, for it was the same
word; so that it was no sooner uttered than straightway the man's ears were
opened, and the string of his tongue was loosed, and he spake plain. Our
profit in the incidents we have been considering will be found in seeing how
entirely our soul's health and life are in the hands of Christ. (D. Moon, M.A.)
Alone with Je$us : — It is a great thing to be alone with nature ; to be alone with a
man of a noble heart ; a greater thing by far to be alone with Jesus, " Aside from
the multitude." I. That Hb might quickbn his sense op individuality. God has
made us persons ; we lose ourselves in the crowd ; trials depress, we lose hope and
become more like things. But Jesus awakens us. II. That He might awaken him
TO A TEUEB CONSCIOUSNESS OF HIS SPIRITUAL NEEDS. " Touched him." Where?
Ears and tongue. There was the evil, there the cure. Some are touched through
their fears, others through their hopes. III. That he might concentbate all hm
HOPES on Ghbist. IV. That He might bind him fob ever to Himself. {W. For-
tyth, M.A.) GlimpseB of Jesus .-—I. The upwabd look. 1. Devout faith in
heaven. 2. Conscious harmony with heaven. 3. Undoubting confidence in heaven.
II. The bigh. 1. Holy grief. 2. Brotherly sympathy. 8. Anxious solicitude.
III. The wobd. 1. A word of love. 2. A word of power. 8. A word of prophetic
meaning. An earnest of greater victories. Some sigh, but nothing mors. Idle
sentiment. Others sigh, but do not look up. No faith in (Jod. {Ibid.) Words
not Tucessary to prayer: — It is impossible fully to enter into the profound depths of
the •' sigh " which Jesus uttered on this occasion. We may learn from it, at least,
two things : — It teaches us that words are not absolutely indispensable to the offering
of prayer. This sigh doubtless contained a prayer, for in all things the Bedeemer
acknowledged tiie Father, saying : " I can of Mine own self do nothing." The sigh
of Jesus, l2te some of the mightiest forces of nature that are silent, was charged
with the power of God. Some of the sincerest, deepest, and most agonizing suppli-
cations that have ascended to the ear of God, have gone up with no more audible
sound than that of a "sigh." {O. Hunt Jackson.) The touch of Christ:— Uo^
exquisitely delicate is the touch of those highly-gifted musicians who can sweep
the keys or chords of their instrument and make it speak as with living voice, now
melting the audience to tears, now stirring their souls with lofty thoughts or mar-
tial enthusiasm 1 With equally magic power does the master painter evoke life
from the canvas, and impart to his creations those inimitable touches of form and
colour that delight the eye and captivate the imagination. The tender manipula-
tion of a wise and skilful surgeon or experienced nurse has almost a healing influence,
as it soothes the overstrung nerves and infuses confidence into the sufferer. A
friend's gentle pressure of the hand and touch of sympathy will often calm sorrow*
ful hearts more than the most kindly and fitly chosen words of condolence. If it
be thus with merely human beings, we might reasonably expect to find far more
csur. Tn.] 8T, MARK, 808
wonderful effects connected with the touch of Him, in Whom, while a partaker of
flesh and blood, dwelt all the fulness of the Godhead bodily. Such we know from
the Gospels to have been actually the case : His touch does hold an important place
in our Lord's miracles, as well as in His ordinary ministry. He touched, and was
touched, and through this medium there went forth blessings of various kinds. His
touch was healing, creative, life-giving, enlightening, comforting. The fact that it
was so during His life on earth will suggest the inquiry how far it may be so stilL
{The Quiver.) Leading our friends to Jesu^: — ^I. In view of the gbeat misebt
IN WHICH MAN FINDS HIMSELF WITHOUT Christ (versG 32). Miserable condition of the
dumb and deaf man. H. In view of the great blessedness into which he enters
THROUGH the Lobd. Especially since we thereby enter upon the greatest happiness
of earth (verse 33). The treatment of this deaf man is an illustration of how Jesus
treats those who are led to Him by friend or acquaintance. {Dr. Amdt.) Leading
our friends to Jesus: — ^During the exhibition of 1867 in Paris, a minister met with
an instance of direct labour for souls which he states he can never forget. In con-
versation with an engineer employed on one of the pleasure-boats which ply on the
Seine, the discovery was made that the man was a Christian, and on the inquiry
being put, by what means he was converted, he replied : *• My mate is a Christian,
and continually he told me of the great love of Jesus Christ, and His readiness to
save, and he never rested until I was a changed man. For it is a rule in our
church that when a brother is converted, he must go and bring another brother ;
and when a sister is converted, she must go and bring another sister ; and so more
than a hundred of us have been recovered from Popery to the simplicity which is in
Christ Jesus.'* This is the way in which the gospel is to spread through the whole
world. (Anon,)
Ver. 37. He hath done all things weXL— Excellency of Chris fs operations : — ^L
The excellency of Christ's operations. ** He hath done all things well ; " as is
apparent — 1. In the magnificence of His operations. Instance the sublime works
of His creative energy ; His infallible administration in the kingdom of providence ;
His stupendous miracles ; His mediatorial achievements (Psa. Ixxxvi. 8-10, ciii. 19 ;
Col. i. 16, 17» ii. 15 ; Matt. xi. 4). 2. In the completeness of His operations
(Deut. xzzii. 4). 3. In the harmony of His operations (Psa. civ. 24 ; cxlv. 10). 4.
In the benevolent design of His operations (Psa. xxxiii. 19 ; Dan. vi. 27). II. Thx
DEVOUT sentiments WITH WHICH THEY SHOULD BE CONTEMPLATED. 1. Devout ad-
miration (Psa. Ixxvii. 13-16). 2. Adoring gratitude (Psa. cxlviii. 13). 3. Zealous
attachment (Jer. 1. 1-5). Has Christ done oh things well ? Then — 1. How flagrant
the impiety of mankind I 2. How justly is Christ entitled to the worship of the
whole universe 1 3. Let Him be the subject of our song, and the object of our
supreme regard. (J. Burns^ LL.D.) Christ's excellent doings : — The text explains
itself — but the truth of it is of vastly wider scope. I. It has a grand significancy
in the creative works of Christ. II. In His Divine government of this and all worlds.
III. Its olimactaral glory belongs to redemption. He undertook the world's redemp-
tion, and effected it, by — 1. Obedience to the law. 2. Suffering the penalty for sin.
3. Conquering the powers of darkness. 4. Bringing life and immortality to light.
6. Obtaining the Holy Spirit. IV. In the salvation He obtained and bestows. An
entire salvation of the whole man — a free salvation of sovereign grace — a salvation
for the whole race — and a salvation to eternal glory. •♦ He does all things weU."
V. In the experience of His people. He sought and found them — He forgave and
healed them — He renews and sanctifies them — He keeps and upholds them, and
He glorifies them for ever. {Ibid.) He hath done all things well : — I. In Creation.
1. Order and regularity. 2. Adaptation. 3. Provision. 4. Happiness of creatures
designed. II. In Redemption. 1. In design — vicarious suffering. 2. Develop-
ment—Incarnation. 3. Application to individuals. 4. To Resurrection. III. In
Providence. 1. Afflictions. 2. Persecution, which only wafts the seed of truth to
distant lands. Conclusion : 1. Submit to Him. 2. Work with Him. {E. Har-
greaves.) The dumb to speak : — Dr. Carey found a man in Calcutta who had not
spoken a loud word for four years, having been under a vow of perpetual silence.
Nothing could open his mouth, till happening to meet with a religious tract, he read
it, and his tongue was loosed. He soon threw away his paras, and other badges of
puperstition, and became, as was believed, a partaker of the grace of God. Many a
nominal, and even professing Christian, who is as dumb on religious subjects as if
ouder a " vow of silence," would find a tongue to speak, if religion were really to
touch and warm his heart. {AnoTi.) On Christ's doing all things w«ZZ;— L
S04 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, lohap. jui,
CShrist's actions were good in themselves. In His general conduct, as a man, He
<tid all things well. U. Christ's actions were performed with good designs. III.
Christ's actions were performed in an amiable and graceful manner. Learn — 1. How
anjust was the treatment our Lord met with in the world. 2. How worthy is Christ
«A our admiration, reverence, and love. 3. How fit is it that we imitate this excel-
lent and lovely pattern. 4. Let it be our concern to do all things well. (J. Orton,)
All things well : — I. The fact. Creation announces it. Providence announces it.
Bedemption announces it. II. The testimony. Saints testify to it. Admirers
astonished at it. Critics confess it. HI. Thb conbequbnce. Those who oppose
Christ are sure to perish, for the right must prevail. They will stand self-con-
demned. The universe will say " Amen " to their condemnation, for they have con-
spired bgainst it. (L. Palmer,)
CHAPTEB VIII.
Yebs. 1-9. In those days the muIUtude being very great, and having nothing to
eat. — Christ knows and supplies our need : — A little lad, during the American war,
was his widowed mother's comfort and joy. One day, as the poor woman was trying
to scrape the fiour from the sides and bottom of the barrel to help oat the day's
supply, the lad cried, " Mother, we shall have some more very soon, I know ! "
Why do you say so, my boy ? " asked the mother. •* Why, because you've got to
scraping the barrel. I believe God always hears you scraping the barrel, and that's
a sign to Him you want another." And before the day was over the fresh
supply had come. Feeding the people : — I. Now we read that some of our fore-
most scientists — ^men of learning and research, and I am not here to say one word
against them or their noble labours — have, as it were, if not formally, tacitly
AGREED to BANISH GoD FROM His OWN CREATION. They Continually declare we have
nothing to do with God. He is the Unknown, and must remain for ever Unknow-
able ; we are Agnostics, we know nothing of Him. We summarise in a few words
the net results of the development theory as applied to the food of man. Within
the last ten years special investigations have been directed to the origin and growth
of com. I cannot now indicate the course and scope of these researches more than
to say that we have two ways of prosecuting the inquiry — by the records of history,
and by the deposits of geology. And their teachings in fine amount to this. Wheat
has never been found in a wild state in any country in the world, nor in any age.
It has no development, no descent. It has always been found imder the same con-
ditions as it is now — always under the care and cultivation of man — never existed
where man did not cultivate it. Moreover, it has never been found in a fossil state.
So, if we hearken to the teachings of geology, man existed long before his staff of
Ufe. The most minute investigations into the origin of wheat have failed to find it
under any conditions in the least different from what it is with us to-day. The
oldest grain of wheat in the world is in the British Museum, and this has been
microscopically examined and subjected to the most searching analysis, but it is
found to be in all respects exactly the same as the wheat you secured a fortnight
ago in this parish in the Vale of Clwyd. So there has been no development within
the records of history, and it has no existence in the deposits of geology. Again :
the power and the means of perpetuating its own existence have been given to every
living and growing thing, animal and vegetable, and this is carried on from age to
age, without any interference on the part of man. The only great exception to
this grand and beneficent law is the com — the food of man. A crop of wheat left
to itself, in any latitude or country, would, in the third or fourth year of its first
planting, entirely disappear. It has no power to master its surrounding difiiculties
so as to become self-perpetuating. Thus it does not come under the law of the
"survival of the fittest." And what is still more singular — we have never more
than a sufficient supply for some fourteen months or thereabouts, even after the
most bountiful harvest, and it has been calculated that we are often within a week
of universal starvation should one harvest totally fail. And how near this awful
catastrophe we may have been this year even, God only knows. A shade too much,
or a shade too little ; and oh how little, and it might have been I And science
informs us that the wheat has untold millions of enemies peculiar to itself. And
no wonder it is a matter of universal rejoicings when another harvest has been
«HAF. Tm.] ST. MARK.
605
jeonred, and the farmer's anxions labours have been crowned with euocess II
AUN MUST woBK. And this is nowhere more evident than in the harvest Man
must plough and harrow, and bow and reap, and bind and gather into bams, and
thresh and grind, and knead and bake, and the hundred and one other little things
allotted as his honourable share in this grand concern ; otherwise his body, with its
mysterious relations to earth and sky, to time and eternity, to matter and spirit
wul not receive the nourishment intended for its growth and work, though all the
cycles of immensity were kept to shed their benign influences on field and meadow
and homestead. And on the other hand, man may do all his part, and yet not one
single grain could he gather into bam or rick if our heavenly Father did not cause
the earth to revolve, the planets to move, the inconstant moon to wend its way
along the star-bespangled firmament, the river to roll on its pebbly bed, the myriad-
laughing ocean in its cradle to ebb and flow, the entrancing landscapes of the sun-
tmted clouds to sail in the balmy ah:, and the barriers of the dawn to be loosened
that the golden rays of the lord of day may dance on the petals of the flowering
wheat, and kiss the dew from the lips of the lily. Now sublimate this thought into
the domain of the gospel, and you will have our part— our bodily and mental
part, httle though it be— in the spiritual and eternal life. For instance, you have
power over your own limbs to come here to God's house, to bow the knee, to blend
your voice in psalm and litany, to kneel before the holy table and receive the
visible symbols of ffis Divine presence, and demean yourselves in bodily and mental
posture as men who feel that God is amongst you ; but after all you will go away
empty if the Holy Spirit be not here to carry the words from the Ups of the
preacher to the heart of the hearer, and your Holy Communion will be an ideal
ceremony if God's presence be not here to bless and satisfy the faithful worshipper
In one and the truest sense, aU is of God, but He wiU not take you to heaven in
spite of yourselves. •* Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling for
it is God which worketh in you both to will and to do of His good pleasure."
III. Thesk mieaoles aeb chabaoteristio of oub Lobd Himself, His life, His
WORK. Contrast this miracle of feeding the multitudes with our Lord's refusal at
Satan's bidding, to convert the stones of the desert into bread for His own sake
Our Lord's temptations and sufferings and death were all for the sake of others-^
of us— of me a sinner— of the human family. (D. Williams,) God*i food the
only satUfaction ."--y And they were fiUed." No true wealth except the harvest.
All the gold and silver are simply means of exchange : they have a purchasing
power; nothing is true wealth but the harvest The harvest alone enriches,
the harvest alone satisfies. If the harvest once failed, your gold and precious
stones would soon become only so much dross to be flung away. Riches
pleasure, fame, empires even, do not satisfy; these things only increase the
hunger of the soul, created to have its enjoyment and satisfaction in God alone.
The food m which God is present alone satisfies. If God be here you will not
go away empty. The Divine presence gives etemal satisfaction. "Labour not
for the meat which perisheth, but for that which endureth onto everlasting
life." {Ibid.) Fragment gatherers :— The apostles — the agents who were
chosen to distribute amongst the multitudes the food which Jesus blessed were
privileged to gather the fragments. Oh, what precious fragments all who help to
administer bread to the perishing souls receive back themselves I The preacher,
the teacher, the district visitor, if their own hearts be in the right place, what
lessons of encouragement, self-disoipline, and mutual lovel what precious frag,
ments in the respect, gratitude, and affection from those amongst whom they
minister, do they not receive ! Virtue is its own reward. Do good, and the basket
of fragments is yours. The less the material, the greater the number fed, the
more fragments. Strange arithmetic I But it is the rale of three and practice of
God, This is trae of all lives. Those who have large means, and do but little, have
no fragments to gather. (Ibid.) How many loaves have ye /- The miracle was
made less startling, less striking, by the actual manner of performing it. The
moment of its beginning was veiled. The first recipients took common bread.
The multiplication was imperceptible. It was only reflection which would convince.
The transition was so gradual from the natural to the supernatural, from the
common into the miraculous, that careless or superficial observers might rise from
the meal half unaware that a Divine hand had been working. In all this we see
much that is Christlike. As no man (Prophecy said) should hear His voice in the
streets, so no man should be forced to track His path in the self-manifestation of
His glory. There was nothing glaring or for effect, nothing (as we should now say)
806 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. vin.
sensational, even in His signs. Christ sought rather to show how alike, how con-
sistent, are all God's acts ; those which He does every day in Providence, and those
which He keeps commonly out of sight in grace. When that which began in
eating common bread changed imperceptibly into eating food multiplied by miracle,
that was a type of God's *' two worlds," the one seen, the other unseen, yet each
the counterpart and complement of the other, and separated each from each by the
thinnest possible veil of present mystery. Christ might have wrought this miracle
without asking for, without making use of, the seven loaves. But He did not. In
like manner, Christ might now, in His Church and in His world, dispense with
everything that is ours ; might begin afresh. Instead He asks for the seven loaves
that we have. The applications of this truth are many and various. I. Wb bbx
IT IN INSPIRATION. When it pleased God to give us a book of light, it was in Hia
power to have made it all His own. But the human element mixes with the
Divine. Bring forth all your gifts, such as they are, of understanding and culture
and knowledge and utterance ; bring them forth, all ye holy and humble men of
heart, Moses and Samuel, David and Isaiah, Ezra and Ezekiel, Paul and John,
Luke and Mark, Matthew and Peter ; and then Christ, taking them at your hands,
shall give them back to you blessed and blessing, to be to generations yet unborn
the light of their life and the consolation of their sleep and of their awakening.
n. That which is tbub op the Book is true also op the lipe. " How many
loaves have ye ? " Christ puts that question to the young man, whose course ia
not yet shaped definitely towards this profession or that, and who would fain so pass
through things temporal that he finally lose not the things eternal. Christ bida
him to ponder with himself each particular of his character and of his history ;
gifts of nature and of education, gifts of mind and body, gifts of habit and
inclination, gifts of connection and acquaintanceship, gifts of experience and
self-knowledge ; and to bring these, like a man — not standing idle because he has
not heard or felt himself hired: not excusing himself from obeying because hia
loaves are but seven, or because they are coarse or stale or mouldy^ — but to bring
them to Him who made and will bless. How many loaves have ye ? Nothing ?
Not a soul ? not a body ? not time ? not one friend, not one neighbour, not one
servant, to whom a kind word may be spoken, or a kind deed done, in the name,
for the love, of Jesus? Bring that — do that, say that — as what thou hast; very
small, very trivial, very worthless, if thou wilt : yet remember the saying, " She
hath done what she could." There are others but too confident in their gifts and
in their doings. It is not without its risk, even a life of charity, even a life of
ministry. Are you quite sure, that, bringing out your seven loaves, you brought
them to Christ for that blessing which alone gives increase ? Nothing works of
itself — ^nothing by human willing or human running — but only by the grace of Him
who giveth liberally, and who showeth mercy. Most of all, that which would
help Christ's own work — to seek and to save that which is lost. "How many
loaves have ye? '* The question is asked of the man — it is asked also of the oom-
monity. (C. J, Vaughan, D.D.) Wherever there is anything new, unusual, or
exciting going on, there the crowd is sure to collect. These people were in dis-
tressing bodUy want. It seems a little singular that this multitude should have so
forgotten themselves, as to hurry out thus unprovided into the empty wUdemesa.
We should never see half the distress we do, if people were only a little more con-
siderate and thoughtful. But it was to the credit of these people that the distress
they suffered was incurred by what was commendable. With a right appreciation
of Christ, it would be no unwisdom to perish in following after Him, rather than
to live in ease by forsaking Him. There was no relief for the multitude in the
common course of things. But man's extremity is God's opportunity. And what
a picture is thus given na of the tenderness and goodness of our Lord I Jesus
pities people in want of bread for the body, as well as those in want of food for
their souls. He enters into our temporal as well as spiritual needs. Nor was His
compassion a mere empty sentiment. It stimulated to action. It exhibited itseU
in deed. It set to relieve the distress that stirred it. It would not be right to
expect such interpositions as a common thing. God has His own ways for dealing
out to men their daily bread, which must be regarded ; but hia resources are not
limited. But there is method in this marvellous relief. **8o they did eat."
1. There were directions given which had to be obeyed. And so there are com<
mands to be observed in order to get the bread of life. There must be a coming
down, a sitting in the dust at Jesus' feet, a hu illation of self to His orders and
institiitat. S. He took what the people had, an added His power and blessing to
CHAP, vm.] ST. MARK. SOT
it, and thus furnished the requisite supplies. They had seven oakes and a few
small fishes. Grace was never meant to supersede nature, but to work upon it, to
help it, bless it, and alugment it. God is a frugal economist. He never ^tastes what
already exists. He is never prodigal in His creations. We have eyes, and ears, and
hearts, and understanding wills, which can be of good service in our salvation. All
that they need is to be brought to Christ, submitted to His handling, bathed in His
words of blessing, and filled with His power, to serve most effectually. 3. But the
food He furnished was given to these hungry ones only through second hands. The
bread and the fishes He " gave to His disciples to set before them, and they did set
them before the people." Christ has appointed a ministry — an office which is filled
by men, who, by His authority and command, are set apart and ordained to
officiate between Christ and their fellows. And where there has been no ministry,
there has been no salvation. The bread of life no man can have, until it is minis-
terially conveyed to him. Be it through the living voice, or the written page, or
the solemn sacrament, that voice implies a speaker, that page a writer, that sacra-
ment an administrator, who is God's appointed agent for the carrying of it to him
who gets it. {J. A. Seiss, I)D.) Faith in Christ helpful against hunger : — There
be those who make sport of the thought that faith in Christ can help against the
pangs of hunger, or the pinchings of bodily need. That a religious sentiment
should serve to put bread in the mouths of the destitute, is to them ridiculous.
And even unfledged apostles are often in such unfaith as to be in pei^plexity and
doubt if He who saves the soul can also feed the body. The world, in its wisdom, does
not know Christ, and so it doubts Him, and laughs at trust in Him. Well-meaning
peeple get wrong in their Christology, and it sets them wrong at every other point.
Let men learn that Jesus is the Saviour of bodies, as well as of souls ; that He is the
Lord of harvests and of bread, as well as of moral precepts and spiritual counsels;
that He lives not only in a system of doctrines and rehgious tenets, but also in
sovereign potency over all the products of land and sea, as well as over all the hidden
principles of production ; that He is not only a marvellous prophet of truth who lived
in the time long past, but also an enthroned king of the living present, swaying His
potent sceptre over all worlds, all nations, and all affairs, and dispensing His
comforts, blessings, and rebukes untrammelled by laws in nature or the economies of
earth ; and doubt will cease as to whether faith in Him may not bring bread to the
destitute, as well as pardon to the guilty, or hope of heaven to the dying. (Ibid.)
A picture of man*s life : — In the desert of this world he is in continual want, hun-
gering and thirsting in the midst of its transitory delights, and longing to be filled
with food. Sin offers itself, and the world tempts him with its barren show, but
these cannot satisfy. Only when he follows Christ, knowing that he is sick, and
owning that he is blind in soul, and maimed in will, and attesting by his stedfast-
ness in continuing with his Saviour the earnestness of his desire for the help which
comes from above, will Christ give him that water which whosoever drinketh
thereof shall never thirst, and that bread, even Himself, which came down from
heaven. In this miracle we are taught — 1. The promptness with which Christ
succours us. We see this in His providing bread before the multitude hungered,
and in His care lest afterwards they should faint by the way. 2. The motive
causes for all God's mercies to us, viz., our needs and our dangers. 3. The true
effects of God's mercy — what He gives us is that true food which really satisfies,
and which alone can satisfy, the whole nature of man. {W. Denton, M.A.) The
multitude fed : — Christ came into personal contact with human wants and woes.
1. Some characteristics of this miracle as contrasted with others. 1. The
desire to grant this blessing originated with Christ Himself. How comforting to
know that He does not mete out His mercies in the scant measure of our prayers.
2. A striking instance of prevention, rather than cure. From how many ills
unthought of, dangers unseen, woes unimagined, are we daily delivered by the
preventing grace of God. 3. Human intervention employed. Christ the source of
supply ; the disciples privileged to dispense His bounty. 4. Unbelief in the inner-
most circle of disciples. 5. A vast multitude were benefited. II. The mtraclk
itseu. 1. Illustrates Christ's care for the bodies of men. 2. The abundance ol
God's bounty. The more we feed upon Christ, the Bread of Life, the more there
is to feed upon. 3. The need of daily feeding on Christ. The miracle falls short
here. To feed once for all is not sufficient. It is because they think it is that so
many are spiritually sickly and weak. (JR W. Forrest, M.A.) On the encourage-
ment which the gospel affordt to active duty: — I. One singular feature in the
character of our Lord — His supsbiobity to all the selfish passions of oub natubk.
MS THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [oha». wtia.
This miracle demonstrated His power over nature, and taught those who witnessed
it that if His kingdom were of this world He possessed the power to maintain it.
They would naturally wish to assemble under such a Leader. It is at this moment*
when all the vulgar passions of hope and ambition were working in the minds of
the multitude, ** that He sends them away ; " to show them that His kingdom was
spiritual. II. The chakacteb of His religion. The systems of pretended revela-
tdon which prevail in the world encourage either superstition or enthusiasm, and
have often separated piety from morality. They have drawn men from the sphere
of social duty to unmeaning devotions. Christ assembles the multitude that He
may instruct them. III. We abe the multitdde descbibed in this passage of tbb
Gospel. We have heard that there was a great Prophet come into the world for
the purpose of spiritual improvement. He has spread before us, in the wildernest
of human life, that greater feast, of spirit and of mind, which may save us *• from
fainting on our way." The services we are called to perform in the cause of
humanity. " That they who had eaten were about four thousand." The number
who have this day approached the same Lord, and heard the same accents of sal-
vation, are countless millions of the family of God. {A. Alison, LL.B,) Satis-
faction for the food in the wilderness : — I. Satisfaction. Is not the Church tired
out, fainting ? Is not the world a wilderness to you ? Does not the Spirit of God
make you feel the nothingness of everything upon earth f Christ the only satis-
faction. II. The thing that satisfies a man. Bread. III. The place where these
individuals were to have that satisfaction. {J, J, West, M.A.) Second miracle
of feeding the multitude : — It could hardly have been without some special reason
that the same miracle should have been worked twice by Christ with scarcely any
variation of detail, and twice recorded with so very great attention to detail. Id
each case, too, Christ Himself drew from the miracle teaching of the highest
importance. Notice these points of similarity. I. In bach cask Jesus, beholding
THE multitude OF PEOPLE, HAS COMPASSION ON THEM. That is the Origin and source
of help for man. Because of His compassion — 1. He came from heaven to earth
to bring to famishing men the Bread of Life. 2. He sends to us His Church, by
and through the ministry of which He gives us all the means of grace. He takes
just what we have, water, bread, wine — all insufficient of themselves — and by His
power makes them more than sufficient for our needs. 3. He looks at us not in the
mass, but one by one. It is the individual soul which is the factor in the mind ol
God. II. In each case, befobe wobeing the mibacle. He dbaws fbom the disciples a
declabation of their inability to supply unassisted that which was needed. ih.
In each case He takes, nevertheless, that which they have, and makes it suffi-
cient. •• How many loaves have ye ? " " Seven." 1. The gift of baptismal grace — the
germ of all graces. 2. The sevenfold gifts of the Holy Spirit, bestowed in confirma-
tion. 3. The Holy Communion. 4. All the means of grace. The Word of God. Oppor-
tunities of public worship. 6. The power of repentance. 6. The gift of prayer.
7. The ministry of the Church. So that we have, after all, a great deal ; if we use
these gifts faithfully, by God's blessing they will more than suffice for the want»
of our souls. IV. In each case He commanded the multitude to bit down. We
must come to receive God's blessing obediently, quietly, calmly. Need of this
lesson in a busy, energetic age, so restless and so excited. We need more repose
ef mind and character. It is good to be " up and doing," but there are times when
it is well for us to sit still. The life most free from feverish excitement is the life
most likely to profit by God's gifts. 1. " Sit down '* before you say your prayers,
if you would really have them answered. Becall your thoughts, be patient and
quiet and humble, try to remember to Whom you are about to speak, and what it i»
you are going to ask, what you really need. 2. " Sit down " before your acts of
public worship. Let there be more restfulness about your worship, more repose
©f thought, more concentration of thought on what you are about to do. 3. " Sit
down " before each communion you make (1 Cor. xi. 28). (1) Let me calmly,
honestly, and thoughtfully look into my past life, especially examining that part
•f it that has been lived since my last communion. (2) Let me see where I am,
and what I am. |3) Let me try my best to see my sins as they really are, and a»
they are recorded m God's book. (4) Let me truly repent of past sins, and make
my humble confession to God, honestly purposing amendment of life. V. In bach
CASE, EITHEB at HiS COMMAND OB WITH HiS APPROVAL, THB FRAGMENTS ARE OATHBRED
BP. God's gifts, whether temporal or spiritual, are never to be wasted. He givea
with a splendid liberality, but only in order that His gifts may be used. Gathet
W9 — 1. Fragments of time. 2. Fragments of opportunities. 3. Fragments of
^■^♦▼ai.] 8T, MARK, SOf
poral goodg. 4. Fragments of prayer, repentance, worghip, grace. (Canon Ingram.)
Divine law o/ tncr«faj»« .-—Usually a single man needed three of these loaves for a
meal, and here were more than a thousand supplied by each loaf. Nobody can
tell how it was done, any more than we can understand how God began to make
the world when there was nothing anywhere. It may be objected that the Lord
does not feed us now in this way ; that, if we want bread, we must work for it.
But thmk about it, and you will see His power and kindness just as plainly in
gxvmg us food in reward for our labour. We plant single kernels of grain, and
God makes each one grow into a great many. What is this but another way of
multiplying the loaves T How hard and dead the seed looks when we put it into
the ground. The rain and the sun find it there, and the yearly wonder begins.
The seed swells and bursts ; a wee pale root cornea out and goes down into the
earth ; another shoots up to the surface. They look very tiny and weak, but a
microscope shows that the tender cells are protected by tough coverings, sometunes
even by particles of flint along the edges, so that they can push their way through
the earth. One acre of soil, three inches deep, weighs a million pounds, and all
that is stirred and lifted by these growing fibres. Up come the stalks, straight and
slender, yet so tough and elastic that when the wind blows they can bend clear to
the ground, and then spring back again, as the strongest tree can hardly do. Soon
a spike of tiny flowers appears on top, then a cluster of kernels, and at last the
whole gets yellow and ripe. Is not this work of God's stranger and more beautiful
than turning one piece of bread into a thousand just like it T (C. M. Southgate.)
So they did eat, and were filled .-—In the original it is, " They were fed to satisfac-
tion.*' That such a result followed, was the consequence of their being fed by Him
alone who satisfies the empty soul, and fiUeth the hungry soul with gladness.
There is need to be reminded of this in an age when men are pointed to other
sources of satisfaction— to education, to culture, and to refinement, and bidden to
find their highest enjoyment in these and such-like pursuits. If they bear no
reference to Him towards whom all that i« noblest and best in nature and art is
designed to lead us, they will turn out to be but broken cisterns that hold no water.
(£f. Af. Luekoek, D.D.) Help in extremity ;— May we not learn from this miracle
how Christ will exercise acts of special providence to help and succour those who
are following Him ? Dean Hook mentions a striking instance of this. There was
an individual who gave up a profitable employment, acting under advice, and not
from the mere caprice of his own judgment, because he thought, taking his tempta-
tions into acoonnt, he could not follow it without peril to his soul. And after many
reverses he was reduced to such a state of distress that the last morsel in the house
had been consumed, and he had not bread to give his children. His faith did not,
however, forsake him; and when his distress was at its height, he received a visit from
one who called to pay him a debt he had never hoped to recover, but the payment
of which enabled him to support his family until he again obtained employment.
Man's food-supply ;— The question of the disciples has been the natural question of
all thinkers at all times. The foremost difficulty to be encountered everywhere
is the difficulty of getting daily bread for self or others in this wilderness, this land
of tiiorns and thistles. We, indeed, raised above our fellows by centuries of
civilization, only partially feel the direct pressure of bodily hunger, only occa-
sionally realize the paramount necessity which governs the life of man — the
necessity of procuring food. But, in fact, a vast proportion of all human effort
and anxiety is directed to this one point ; whatever else is left undone, this must be
done : only if there is any time and vigour over when daily bread is secured can
it be spent on other things, on comforts and adornments for the body, on learning
and improvement for the mind. There is, perhaps, no animal that has to spend
BO large a part of his time in procuring the food he needs as man. And when he
has got it, it will not satisfy him as their daily food will satisfy the other creatures.
No sooner is he filled than he finds out that man cannot live by bread alone ; that
he cannot be satisfied from any earthly stores ; that he wants something more, and
has another kind of hanger. This is, of course, because God has made him with a
Bonl as well as a body, and has so made this soul and body that each requires its
own proper food. Indeed, we must acknowledge that we are the most dependent
•f all creatures ; we cannot go a few hours without suffering pangs of hanger,
whieh must be stilled at any cost or risk, or else we die; and when this craving is
appeased, then the hunger of the soul awakes, and it demands to be satisfied with
something-. it knowi not what, perhaps; for Qod has made as for Himself, made
oi to b« Mtiifled with nothing m than Himself, made as to b« entirely disHtiiiol
ait THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. wn.
and disoontented without Himself. {^R. Winterhotham, M.A.) This world a
wilderness: — Men often talk about this life as being a wilderness, and they are
right ; but do you know why, and in what sense ? What is the wilderness to which
•ur wrthlj life is like, the wilderness in which our Lord worked this and other
miracles ? Is it a great howling expanse of sand and rock, with nought but blazing
earth below and blazing sky above ? Is it the vast and terrible desert, where fiery
death pursues the steps of the unhappy traveller, where doleful creatures cry, and
whitening bones lie all about ? If this were the wilderness, then would our life be
very unlike one. . . , The wildernesses of Palestine, like " the bush " in
Australia, are not by any means always barren, or ugly, or desolate : often they
are very beautiful, and very productive ; only, their beauty and productiveness are
so uncertain, so unreliable, so disappointing, that no one can live there or make
his home there — unless, indeed, he receives his supplies from somewhere else.
Now, our hfe is just like the wilderness in this sense : very often it is full of
beauty, of grace, of life, of promise ; there are times when every element of hope
and contentment seems present in abundance. But all this beauty and promise
will not satisfy the soul of man, however much it may please his fancy and his
tastei Suppose you found yourself in the wilderness among the grasses and
flowers, could you feed on them ? Could you sustain life on them ? No ; however
lovely and luxuriant they might be, however grateful as elements in a landscape,
they would not appease your hunger ; your limbs would grow weak, your eyes
would fail, your head would swim, and you would fall and starve and die amongst
the dewy grasses and the many-coloured flowers. Even so would it be if you tried
to satisfy your immortal souls with the pleasures and beauties, and joys and riches,
of this hfe. We should be other than human if we did not like them, we should
be very ungrateful if we did not give thanks for them — but, all the same, we cannot
be satisfied with them ; the old craving would return — we should feel ourselves
discontented, miserable, perishing, amidst all the abundance of this world. (Ibid.)
God alone can satisfy : — It is easy enough to please people in the wilderness if
you go at the right time ; the beauly of the landscape, the buoyancy of the air, the
exhilarating sense of freedom and expanse — all these are delightful. It is easy to
amuse people in the wilderness, with so many new things to be looked at and
admired ; it is easy to lead them on further and further from home, into a region
where there are no barriers and few landmarks. But to satisfy them — that we
cannot do ; that can only be done, in the wilderness, by the Divine power of Christ.
He only can feed the myriads of famishing souls which, even in listening to Hia
words, have only felt their hunger growing keener. He can and will, and it makes
no difference to Him how many the people, how few the loaves, they shall all be
satisfied and go home in the strength of that food; He can and will, and it makes
no difference to Him how many millions of souls are waiting upon Him for
spiritual food — how feeble, apparently, and paltry the means of grace by which He
designs to feed them. (Ibid.) Scattering yet increasing : — Good husbandry
does not grind up all the year's wheat for loaves for one's own eating, but keeps
some of it for seed, to be scattered in the furrows. And if Christian men will deal
with the great love of God, the great work of Christ, the great message of the
gospel, as if it were bestowed on them for their own sakes only, they will
have only themselves to blame if holy desires die out in their hearts, and the
consciouBness of Christ's love becomes faint, and all the blessed words of truth
come to sound far off and mythical in their ears. The standing water gets green
scum on it. The close-shut barn breeds weevils and smut. Let the water run.
Fling the seed broadcast. Thou shalt find it after many days — bread for thy own
soul. (A. Maclareny D.D.) The conditions of increase : — The condition of
increase is diffusion. To impart to others is to gain for oneself. Every honest
effort to bring some other human heart into conscious possession of Christ's love
deepens my own sense of its preciousness. If you would learn, teach. You will
catch new gleams of His gracious heart in the very act of commending it to
others. Work for God if you would live with God. Give the bread to the hungry,
if you wotdd have it for the food of your own souls. (Ibid.)
Vers. 10-43. SeeUiig: of Elm a sign ttom heaven, tempting Elm. — Seeking a
aign: — I. The unbeasonableness op this bequest. 1. Injother matters the^ wer«
not scrupulous of evidence — tradition. 2. They had *the signs of tfietimes—
iBfiSTsting m a combinatidft (Jr~et6fit§"giving fulfilment to their own Scripturts,
J. They had His miracles — unquestioned. 4. They had even signs from heaven—
CHAP, vin.] ST. MARK. Bll
at His baptism. 5. It was not evidence that was wanting. 6. Neither is it bo yet.
IL The denial or theib bequest. 1. Not because such a request would, in other
circumstances, have been sinful. Gideon. Hezekiah. 2. But because it was
unnecessary, it would not have convinced them, it was asked out of malice.
3. Our request must be for necessary things, from right motives. III. Accobdino
TO THE OTHEB EVANGELISTS, ChBIST POINTED THEM TO THE SIGN OF THE PBOPHET
Jonas. 1. There are several points of resemblance between Christ and Jonas.
2. The point referred to by Christ was, no doubt. His resurrection. {Expository
Discourses.) The refusals of Christ : — We often speak of what He gave : we
might also speak of what He withheld. The words of the Old Testament are
applicable to Jesus Christ : *♦ No good thing will He withhold," &c. The refusals
of Jesus were governed by three considerations. 1. Keligious curiosity is not to be
mistaken for religious necessity. 2. Beligious confidence is not to be won by
irreligious ostentations. 3. Beligious appeals are not to be addressed to the eye,
but to the heart. In applying these points show what Christ gave in comparison
with what He refused. He gave bread, sight, hearing, speeph, health ; He gave
His life, yet He refused a^t^T'^ndefsfand that,' in some cases, not to give a sign
ia^'in'realily'ta givtrflle rnost solemn and dreadful of all signs. {Dr. J. Parker.)
Tempting God : — It is a wicked and sinful practice for any to tempt the Lord,
i.e., to make unlawful and needless proof of His Divine attributes, such as Power,
Providence, Justice, Mercy, &c. This sin is committed — 1. By limiting and
restraining God's actions to ordinary means and secondary causes : tying Him to
these, as if without them He could not or would not perform those things which
He has promised to the godly or threatened against the wicked. 2. By neglecting
the ordinary means appointed by God for the good and preservation of our souls
and bodies, and relying upon God's extraordinary power and providence to provide
for us. Apply this to such cases as — abandonment of earthly calling ; needlessly
exposing oneself to danger ; rejecting the means of grace. 3. By Uving and
going on in any sin contrary to the Word of God, thereby making proof of God's
patience, whether He will punish or wink at disobedience. {G. Fetter.) Modem
doubt: — I. First of all, we discover the same sycophancy of spibit among
sceptics now as was noticeable among the ancient Jews. The significant question
those people asked concerning Christ was, " Have any of the rulers believed on
Him ? " 1. One of the maxims of the Talmud was this : *• My son, give more heed
to the words of the rabbis than to the words of the law," Thus they pressed human
authority above inspiration, and exalted traditions above the revelation from God.
2. Our times are not much better. Little men appear to imagine their proportions
are vaster when they stand in the awe-inspiring shadow of big men. Hence we
find all the motley company of sceptics aping masterly leaders, and trying to make
the majesty of their intellects show most impressively. 3. Babbis (in this sense)
ought not to count for much with Christian people : " One is our Master, even
Christ" What God's children are examining is truth, and not men. It must be
remembered that there never was a system of even confessed error, no matter how
miserable or how vile, that did not for the time being have some able advocates.
We do not need to go back to Marcion's day, nor to Basilides' day, to illustrate
this. Gibbon was gifted, and Brigham Young was a man of power — and Satan
himself was one of the brightest of God's angels. 4. Meantime, the cry lifted as
to the supreme abihty of not a few of these leaders of modern scepticism might as
well be toned down to moderation. II. Next to this sycophancy of spirit, we dis-
cover that modern doubt has for its characteristic the same disposition to criticise
God's Wobd which prevailed in Herod's time. Our Saviour's charge was, *' making
the Word of God of none effect." 1. Those Pharisees and Sadducees had only the
Old Testament, but they kept picking at it. The general principle of interpretation
was very frankly avowed in those days : " The Bible is like water, the traditions
•re like wine ; but the commentaries are like wine which has been spiced." 2. The
modern attack is just like this. The combat with opposers is not now that of
theological philosophy, but of biblical criticism. 3. It is impossible to stop the
mouths of carpers. The apostles themselves had to deal with strong and inveterate
opposers. There w^ere persistent Pharisees and indefatigable Sadducees. Paul
himself even could not put down these disputants at will so completely that they
should not harangue the populace. He could refute every argument, and overturn
every position ; but when he had silenced sense they kept up the uproar. Thus
they made their sorry exhibition at Ephesus (see Acts xix. 32-34). III. In the
Ihird place, modem doubt is characterized, like the ancient scepticism Jesus re-
tU THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [cha?. jul
buked, by an aimless DBirxiMa into a series of continual disbeliefs. This was thi
ground for our Lord's most terrible denunciation : *• Woe onto you, scribes and
Pharisees, hypocrites I for ye compass sea and land to make one proselyte ; and
when he is made, ye make him twofold more the child of hell than yourselves.**
1. Those old sects seem all to have known this tendency to reckless wandering in
speculation, for they tried to force a system of checks at each exposed point
against free-thinking. 2. This generation of doubters in our time are as wandering
in their purposes, and quite as devoutly blind in their career. The moment one
begins to question, that moment he begins to travel. Yet is it seriously to be
doubted whether he is going ever to reach that portal of God's truth he talks of so
glibly. 3. There is no settled direction which modem scepticism chooses. II
there were, we might welcome the drift as perhaps being in the line of the truth,
and indicating progress. But it makes one think of the eddies over the meadows
tttter a freshet ; it is unsafe to try to sail because nobody knows the channel. A
thoughtful man would like to know beforehand where he is going. 4. It is best,
also, to settle the value of an argument drawn from an example. IV. This thought
will find a further illustration, when we go on to consider a fourth characteristic of
modem doubt : namely, the extreme malionanoy of temper with which those who
turn from the Christian faith afterwards attack its defenders. 1. Renegades are
always the most belligerent allies on the other side. 2. It is often to advantage to
read up the antecedents of some of our most prominent unbelievers. •• You know
who the critics are ? " asks a shrewd character in Lord Beaconsfield's story ; *• they
are the men who have failed in literature and art." Find an extremely ill-tempered
disputant anywhere nowadays, who begins with innuendo and continues with
abuse, and the explanation may be given almost instinctively : this man did not
succeed in the old life, and is angrily trying to retrieve his fortunes by attracting
attention in a new. 3. For the temper of unbelief is simple selfishness. 4. Hence,
there is no safety in yielding even just a Uttle. "A double-minded man is
unstable in all his ways." Behef will not suffer itself to be divided. ((7. 8.
Robinson, D.D.)
Vers. 14. Beware of the leaven of the Pharisees. The leaven of the Pharisees : —
Our Lord's warning against false doctrine. I. A suggestive figubb of speech.^
"Leaven." (1) A suggestive figure of the power of influence, good or bad.
(a) Aggressive, (b) Subtle in its aggressiveness, (c) Unless resisted, all-conquering
in its subtlety. (2) Our Lord's suggestive use of this figure, (a) To represent the
powerful influence of erroneous doctiine. (b) To represent the danger to which His
disciples were exposed from erroneous doctrines, notwithstanding their superior
advantages, arising from the instructions He gave them. II. A suggestivb
EXAMPLE OF THE EXEKCI8E OF BAD INFLUENCE. (1) Its ageucy. Phaiisees. (a) The
secret of their power, i. Their ecclesiastical, social, and political position, ii.
Their great pretensions to piety — in fasting and prayer. (2) Its method. Doctrine,
(a) Public teaching a great power for good or evil. (6) As the respect felt for the
Pharisees enhanced their power, so our respect for either the genius or supposed
sincerity of a public teacher enhances his power. (3) An imperative duty in view
of this fact. ♦• Prove all things : hold fast that which is good." (D. C. Hughes,
M.A.) The leaven of the Pharisees and the Sadducees ;— This caution was probably
suggested by His late interview with the Pharisees and the Sadducees. I. The
DOCTRINE OF THE PHARISEES chicfly hinged upon two tenets. 1. Acceptance with
God on the ground of legal performances. 2. The obhgation of the tradition of the
elders. These led to multipled observances of a legal kind, pride and boasting,
hvpocrisy, laxity of morals. IL The doctrines of the Sadducees, here called
the leaven of Herod, were opposed to these. Notice only three, as having a prac-
tical influence. They denied — 1. The separate existence of the soul. 2. The
resurrection of the dead. 8. The superintending providence of God. These led to
the removal of restraint to vicious indulgences. Sadduceeism characterized the
generation which has disappeared. Phariseeism the present. HI. Their doctrines
ARE compared TO LEAVEN. 1. They affect the whole character. 2. The whole mass
of society. '* Take heed," &o. The one, sanotimoniousness ; the other, licention»
uess. {Expository Discourses.)
Vers. 16-21. And they reasoned among themselTea. Nine sharp and pointed
questionsy turning the minds of the disciples hack upon their ovm experience : — Their
reasonings vexy plainly and painfully proved how very little real benefit thej had
▼m.] ST, MARK, 313
yet derived from intercourse with Christ. What a display of ignorance, forgetfnl-
oess, and anbelief I So it always has been in the history of God's dealings with
men. And so it is now, among ourselves, notwithstanding all the superior advan-
tages we enjoy. How often do all of us misunderstand *he meaning of our Master's
words ! How often do we distrust His Providence I And why is this ? The main
reason is that we are forgetful of the lessons of experience. Like the first disciples,
we do not thoughtfully and prayerfully ponder what He has taught us, and what He
has done for us. Consider the days of old. Bemember all the way which the Lord
thy God hath led thee. Gather up into the basket of memory all the fragments of
the past, carry them along with you, and make use of them day by day as occasion
may require. {A. Thomson.) Seeing, hearing, and understanding : — ♦• The first time
I went to a Christian missionary," said a Chinese evangelist, **Itook my eyes. I stared
at his hat, his umbrella, his coat, his shoes, the shape of his nose, and the colour of
his skin and hair ; but I heard not a word. The next time I took my ears as well
as my eyes, and was astonished to hear the foreigner talk Chinese. The third
time, with eyes and ears intent, God touched my /i«art, and I understood the gospel."
How Is It that ye do not understand? — Understanding prevented: — With the
disciples, as with the rich youth, it was things that prevented the Lord from being
understood. Because of possession the young man had not a suspicion
of the grandeur of the call with which Jesus honoured him. He thought he
was hardly dealt with to be offered a patent of heaven's nobility — he was so
very rich 1 Things filled his heart; things blocked up his windows; things
barricaded his door ; so that the very God could not enter. His soul was not
empty, swept, and garnished, but crowded with meanest idols, among which his
spirit crept about upon its knees, wasting on them the gazes that belonged to his
fellows and his Master. The disciples were a little further on than he ; they left all
and followed the Lord ; but neither had they yet got rid of things. The paltry solitari-
ness of a loaf was enough to hide the Lord from them, to make them unable to under-
stand Him. Why, having forgotten, could they not trust ? Surely if He had told
them that for His sake they must go all day without food, they would not have
minded 1 but they lost sight of God, and were as if either He did not see, or did
not care for them. In the former case it was the possession of wealth. In the
latter the not having more than a loaf, that rendered incapable of receiving the
Word of the Lord : the evil principle was precisely the same. If it be things that
slay you, what matter whether things you have, or things you have not? The
youth, not trusting in God, the source of his riches, cannot brook the word of His
Son, offering him better riches, more direct from the heart of the Father. The
disciples, forgetting who is Lord of the harvests of the earth, cannot understand His
Word, because filled with the feaj* of a day's hunger. He did not trust in God as
having given ; they did not trust in God as ready to give. We are like them when,
in any trouble, we do not trust Him. It is hard on God, when His children will not
let Him give ; when they carry themselves so that He must withhold His hand, lest
He harm them. To take no care that they acknowledge whence their help comes,
would be to leave them worshippers of idols, trusters in that which is not. {G.
Macdonaldf LL.D.) The lessons of trivial loss : — Let me suggest some possible
parellels between ourselves and the disciples, maundering over their one loaf — with
the Bread of Life at their side in the boat. We, too, dull our understandings with
trifles, fill the heavenly spaces with phantoms, waste the heavenly time with hurry.
To those who possess theii- souls in patience come the heavenly visions. When I
trouble myself over a trifle, even a trifle confessed — ^the loss of some little article,
say — spurring my memory, and hunting the house, not from immediate need, but
from dislike of loss ; when a book has been borrowed of me and not returned, and
I have forgotten the borrower, and fret over the missing volume, while there are
thousands on my shelves, from which the moments thus lost might gather
treasures, holding relation with neither moth, nor rust, nor thief ; am I not like
the disciples f Am I not a Ibol whenever loss troubles me more than recovery
would gladden ? God would have me wise, and smile at the trifle. Is it not time I
lost a few things when I care for them so unreasonably 7 This losing of things is
of the mercy of God ; it comes to teach us to let them go. Or have I forgotten a
thought that came to me, which seemed of the truth, and a revealment to my
heart t I wanted to keep it, to have it, to use it by and by, and it is gone 1 I keep
trying and trying to call it back, feeling a poor man till that thought be recovered
—to be far more lost, perhaps in a note-book, into which I shall never look again
te find it 1 I forget that it is live things God oaree about — ^live truths, not things
314 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [ohap. na
set down in a book, or in a memoiy, or embalmed in the joy of knowledge, bnt
things lifting up the heart, things active in an active wilL True, my lost thought
might have so worked ; but had I faith in God, the Maker of thought and memory,
I should know that, if the thought was a truth, and so alone worth anything, it
must come again ; for it is in God — so, like the dead, not beyond my reach ; kept
for me, I shall have it again. (Ibid.)
Vers. 22-26. And He cometb to Bethsalda; and they bring a blind man nnto
TTim — Blindness common in the East : — Blindness was and is more common in Egypt
and Syria than in any other part of the world. The glare of light, the dust which
is produced by a dry season, extending from May to November, in which rain rarely
falls, and the fruit of the newly-ripe fig, all tend to produce inflammation of the eyes,
and this, when severe or repeated, produces blindness. One-tenth of the population
of Joppa to-day are blind. In a neighbouring town, Lydda, a traveller, probably
exaggerating, said every other person was blind of one or both eyes. In Cairo, a
city of 250,000 inhabitants, there are 4,000 blind. Accordingly, this was one of the
commonest ills which the Saviour had to treat. {R. Glover.) Sight for the blind: —
I. A SYMBOL OF THE SPIBITUAli BLINDNESS OF HUMANITY. II, A SYMBOL OF SALVATION
BY Divine contact. III. A symbol of the pboqbessivb ohabacteb of spisitual
ENLIGHTENMENT. IV. A SYMBOL OF THE POWER OF ChRIST TO EFFECT COMPLETH
ILLUMINATION. (J. R. Tkomsou, M.A.) Christ's method of dealing with individttal
souls : — L He isolates from distubbino xntlubnces. First with Christ, that after-
wards he may be in Him. II. He encourages and confirms faith. Personal
contact and operation, and kindly words, evoking patient's inner freewill and power.
III. He exacts implicit obedience. The first use of the restored vision is to avoid
those upon whom the man had formerly depended — a hard task 1 The life Christ's
people are bidden to lead may not commend itself to their judgment or desire, but
it is best for their spiritual interests ; and if Christ is to be a complete Saviour, He
must be an absolute and unquestioned Lord. (A. F. Muir, M.A.) Curing spiritual
blindjiess : — I. Deliverance from blind guides. II. Transfer of confidence to the
true Guide. HI. Kevelation of the invisible power of God. IV. Exercising the
soul's newly acquired pow*s of spiritual vision. V. Giving spiritual direction for
the future. (Ibid.) Earnestness and knowledge the parents of faith: — The
only progressed cure recorded in the New Testament. Why was it not instan-
taneous like the rest ? Nothing our Lord did or left undone was without meaning ;
BO there must have been a reason for this. That reason cannot have been in Christ.
He was no respecter of persons ; His tender sympathy yearned over this sufferer as
tenderly as over the rest. It must be traced, then, to the man himself and his
fellow-citizens. If the tone of morality had been higher in Bethsaida, if publio
opinion had been more upright, if the collective example of the citizens had been
better, the probability is that the man would not have been so criminal. Now, what
was wrong? I. Want of faith. Why was there a lack of faith? 1. Because
there was a lack of earnestness. Distinct evidence of this. His friends bring him
to Chi it^t, and from the fact that he does not speak except to answer a question, we
infer that he was not particularly anxious to be brought. No such eagerness as in
the case of Bartimasus. 2. Because there was a want of knowledge. This man
was an inhabitant of Bethsaida Julius, which was within easy walking distance of
most of Christ's great works. The people hving there had heard His wonderful
words of life ; and surely if those who could see, and who therefore, were without
excuse, had realized their privileges and acted up to them they might have taught
this man ; but they had not done so. They had not rejoiced iu the good news from
God ; they had not reahzed that the promised Messiah had come ; they had not
hastened to be His witnesses to their neighbours. If they had done so, they would
have brought home to the mind of this poor blind man such a sense of the powei
find love of Jesus Christ, that he would not have hesitated for one moment to believe
that Christ was well able to restore him at once to perfect vision. And because they
were so unworthy Christ sends the man to his house, saying, " Neither go into the
town," &o. His fellow citizens were not worthy to hear the story of the great work
which God had wrought in him. We must not cast our pearls before swine, or give
that which is holy to the dogs. This man himself was the monument of their
spiritual shortcomings ; and if in the first hour of his faith in Christ and his own
personal experience of the power of Christ, he had returned to his cold-blooded,
indifferent, cynical neighbours, they might have quenched the little flame of grate-
iol love which was springing up i his heart. {Hugh Price Hughes.) Significant
au». Tin.] 8T. MARK. S15
metions : — The profonnd and saintly Bengel calls oar attention here to this touching
speotaole, that significant fact — that Christ did not command his friends to lead
him out of the town, but He led him out Himself. Oh, what a spectacle for men
and angels — the Divine Son of God tenderly taking the hand of this poor blind
beggar, and leading him out of the town Himself I And why did He lead him out
of the town, away from the noise and confusion and pre-occupation of town life ?
Surely it was because solitude and silence are great teachers of earnestness. He
needed to be alone with himself and with his great want. It has been well said by
a great teacher of our own time, that solitude in the sense of being often alone, is
essential to any depth of meditation and character ; and at present there is very
little meditation and depth of character in this man. It is necessary that he should
be alone awhile, that he might realize the meaning of these things — his great need
and the love of God. And then it is also very significant that, instead of speaking
a word to him as usual. He moistens His finger and places it upon the sightless
eyeball of the blind, in order that by palpable evidence He might brin- home to this
man that He is about to bestow upon him a supreme blessing. But, so far, the
efforts of Christ are not entirely successful ; for, after He had put His hands upon
him, He asked him if he could see, and he looked np, and said, " I see men as
trees " — I can see better than I ever saw before, but so vaguely, so dimly, the out-
line is so indistinct, that I confess I cannot distinguish between the men and the
trees at the side of the road, except by the fact that the men are moving. Now, you
will observe that Christ did not abandon His work when it was half done. Indeed,
He asked the man whether he could see, in order to bring home to him the fact that
he could see a little, and that so far hope might spring up within him ; but, at the
same time, that he might also bring home to him the fact that he could se« only
very little. And then Christ put His hands upon his eyes a second time, and after
that second touch he saw clearly. (Ibid.) Healing the blind : — Men arrive at
Christ by different processes : one is found by Christ Himself, another comes to
Him, another is borne of four, and this blind man is led. This matters little, so
long as we do oome to Him. The act of bringing men to Jesus is most commend-
able. 1. It proves kindly feeling. 2. It shows practical faith in the power ot
Jesus. 8. It is thus an act of true wisdom. 4. It is exceedingly acceptable to the
Lord ; and is sure to prove effectual when the person himself willingly comes. In
this case there was something faulty in the bringing, since there was a measure of
dictation as to the method in which the Lord should operate. (C H. Spurgeon.)
The Lord heals in His own way : — We must not attempt to dictate to Him how He
shall operate. While He honours faith, He does not defer to its weakness. 1. He
does not consent to work in the prescribed manner. 2. He touched, but no healing
came ; and thus He proved that the miracle was not attached to that special form of
operation. 3. He did nothing to the bhnd man before their eyes ; but led him out
of the town. He would not indulge their observation or curiosity. 4. He did not
heal him instantly, as they expected. 5. He used a means never suggested or
thought of by them — *• spit on his eyes," Ac. 6. When He did put His hands on
him. He did it twice, so that, even in comphance with their wish, He vindicated
His own freedom, (a) Thus He refused to foster the superstition which limited Hia
power, (b) Thus He used a method more suited to the case, (c) Thus He gave to
the people larger instruction, (d) Thus He displayed to the individual a more
personal care. (Ibid.) Man cannot chose his remedy : — Is the sick man
the doctor, that he should ehoose the remedy? {Madame Swetchine.) Symbolism
of touch : — In the touching of the eyes with spittle, and laying on of hands, there was
no inherent efficacy. They were means and channels of grace. Christ has estab-
lished a Church in the world, and an ordained ministry therein, and holy sacraments,
which only through Him become healing powers in the world. He could have spoken
a word to the blind man at Bethsaida and all would have been accomplished that
was sought for. He could save men's souls directly by fiats of omnipotent grace, but
He has chosen a Church to embody and set forth the fulness of His love toward a lost
world. He has used means. {E. N. Packard.) Analogy to spiritual cures :—
Doubtless we are inclined to press the analogy between the gradualness of this man's
onre and the gradualness of certain restorations to spiritual life ; but this seems quite
anauthorized. The cure was not an ideal type of all soul cures, but an instructive illus-
tration of oooasional Divine methods. The instant the bhnd eyes began to see, there
was a miraele practically accomplished. The instant we turn to God in repentance
and faith the new life begins ; and regeneration, whenever it occurs, is in8tantaneoa».
Tei, for all thnt, our capacity to receive the fulness of Christ is at fint but amaU,
816 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTBATOR. [^hjup. nn.
and the light must wax stronger and stronger as we walk in it day by day. (Ibid.)
The gradual miracle : — Variety is one mark of God's working, as order ia
another. There was a fertility of resource, and a diversity of administration,
which bespoke the agency of One who from the beginning was with God and was
God, the Doer of all God's acts and the Partner of all God's counsels. The
spiritual e>e is not utterly closed nor utterly darkened ; but its sight is confused, its
discernment of objects both misty and inaccurate. 1. It is so in reference to the
things of God. We can speak but for ourselves : but who has not known what it
is to say, I cannot make real to myself one single fact or one single doctrine of the
Bible ? I can say indeed — and I bless God even for that — ^Lord, to whom else can
I go ? where, save in the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ, is there either the hope
or the peradventure of healing for a case like mine? And therefore I can cling to
the Christian revelation with the tenacity of a shipwrecked sailor whose one
*' broken piece of the ship " is his only possibility of escape : I can just float upon
that fragment, knowing that, torn from it or washed off from it, I am lost : but if
the question is, whether I reaUy see ought ; whether I can discern with the mind's
eye the sacred and blessed forms of a Father and a Saviour and a Comforter who
are such to me ; whether, when I kneel down to pray, I can feel myself to be apart
with my God ; whether, when I approach Christ's Table, I feel myself to be His
guest ; whether, when I ask to be kept this day from all sin, I feel myself to be the
temple of a Holy Spirit whose indwelling is my safeguard and my chief joy ; then
I must answer that my hold upon all these things is precarious and most feeble ;
that seeing I see, but scarcely perceive ; that my God is too often to me like the
gods of the heathen, which can neither see, nor hear, nor reward, nor punish ; that I
too often conduct myself towards Him as though I thought wickedly that He was
even such an one as myself, equally short-sighted, equally fallible, equally vacil-
lating, equally impotent. More especially is this the case in reference to ti^e dis-
tinctive doctrines of Divine grace. How little do any of as grasp and handle and
use the revelation of an absolute forgiveness 1 What can we say more, in regard to
all these things, than that at best we see men as trees, walking f that we have a dim,
dull, floating impression of there being something in them, rather than a clear,
bold, strong apprehension of what and whom and why we have believed f 2. And
if tMs be so in the things of God, in matters of direct revelation and of Christian
faith ; it is scarcely les«s true in reference to the things of men ; to our views of life,
the present life and the future, and to the relations in which we stand to those
fellow-beings with whom the Providence of God brings us into contact. We all
profess as Christians to be ** kv)king for the resurrection of the dead, and the life
of the world to come." And yei, when w© examine our own hearts, or observe
(however remotely) the evident principles of others, we find that in reality the
world that is holds as all with a veiy firm gripe. We cannot appreciate the oom-
parative dimensions of things heavenly and things earthly. The subject appears
to suggest two words of application. First, to those who are truly in the position
which I have sought by the help of this miracle to indicate. To those who are
really under the healing hand of Christ, but upon whom as yet it has been laid
incompletely if not indecisively. Many persons think themselves quite healed,
when they are at best but half -healed. Many, having experienced a first awakening,
and sought with sincerity the gift of the Divine forgiveness, rest there, and coont
themselves to have apprehended. The importance of going forward in the process
of the healing. Secondly, and finally, a word of caution mast be added to those
who are too easily assuming that they are even half-healed. The hand is not laid
without our knowing it, nay, nor without our seeking it. Even the first act of
healing is a gift above gold and precious stone : despise it not 1 Power out of weak-
ness, peace out of warfare, light out of darkness, sight oat of dim, groping , creeping
blindness, this it is to be the subject of the first healing. (C. J. Vaughan^ D.D.)
The free agency of Christ: — I, It is a common weakkkss op faith to expect the
BLSssiNO IN A CERTAIN WAT. They bcsought Him to touch him. II. While oub
Loan HONOUBS vaith He does not DErsB to its weakness. He used a means never
suggested by them — *♦ spit on his eyes," Ac. lU. While oub Lobd eebukbs the
WEAKNESS or VAiTH, He HONOUBS FAITH XTSELF. Faith ovcr honouTS the Lord, and
therefore the Lord honours. tt. II faith were not thus rewarded, Jesus Himself
would suffer dishonour. He who has faith shall surely see ; he who demands signs
shall not be satisfied. Let as for ever have done with prescribing methods to our
Lord. (C. H, Spurgeon.) Seeing or not ieeing, or men tu tree* walking : — ^I. Pio>
TOU THE CABS. A pcTson with a darkened onderstanding, not a man who might
o«A». Yin.] ST, MARK, 817
be pictured by a person possessed with & devil. II. Notiob the ubans or curb.
EUs friends brought him to Jesus. He first received contact with Jesus. A solitary
position : Jesus led the man out of the town, He was brought under ordained but
despicable means. Jesus spit on his eyes. Jesus put His hands on Viim in the form
of heavenly benediction. III. Consioeb this hopeful btaob. The first joyful
word is — " I see." His eight was very indistinct. His sight was very exaggerating.
This exaggeration leads to alarm. There is to such people an utter loss of the
enjoyment which oomes from seeing beauty and loveliness. IV. Notiob the com-
pletion or THE CUBE. Jesus touched His patient again. The first person he saw
was Jesus. Jesus bade him " look up." At last he could see every man clearly.
W)id.) Seeing men at tree$ walking : — I. An improvement upon the past.
He was no longer blind — thus an immense change liad taken place. There is an
infinite distance between the lowest type of a Christian and the finest specimen of
an onconverted soul. The most subtle animal and the barbarous savage may seem
to resemble each other ; but a gulf which only God can bridge separates them.
Thus the most imperfect act of faith in Christ lifts a person out of the natural into
the spiritual realm. II. A state that is still unsatisfactory. ** Men as trees
walking." Whilst an imperfect faith will save the soul, yet it will not prevent in-
correct views of truth : exaggerated views ; and many heedless fears. Most of the
theological contentions are through imperfect conceptions of truth. Two men
with perfect sight would see an object alike — two with very dim sight would
each see it to be different. III. A ouabanteb of perfect vision. The blade
is a prophecy of the ear : the morning twilight of the noon-day splendonr :
the buds of spring of the fruit of autumn. He which hath begun a good work
within, will perfect it. He is the finisher as well as the author of our faith. How
strange if Christ had left the poor man thus. ** Now are we sons of Grod — there-
fore it doth not yet appear what we shall be." (L. Palmer.) Three viewt
of Christ's work : — I. Christ's work as a salvation. The restoring of sight was a
point on the brilliant line, the end of which was the salvation of mankind ; so was
every miracle of healing. II. Christ's work as a process. The good work was not
acoomphshed in this case, as in others, by a word ; it was done gradually. It is so
in spiritual enlightenment. All good men do not see God with equal quickness or
with equal clearness. III. Christ's work as a consummation. " He was restored,
and saw every man clearly." He will not leave His work antil it be finished, if so
be men beseech Him to go on to be gracious. {Dr, Parker,) The cure of a blind
man: — I. A blind man bbouqht to Chbist. Their faith. If those who are spiri-
tually blind will not pray, for themselves, let others pray for them. II. A bund man
LED BT Christ. He did not bid his friends lead him. Never had the blind man
saoh a leader before. UI. A blind man marvellously cubed. 1. Christ used a
sign. 2. The cure was wrought gradually, but — 3. It was soon completed. He took
this way because — 1. He would not be tied to any one method. 2. It should be to
the patient according to his faith, which at first was very weak. 8. He would show
how spiritual light shines " more and more to the perfect day." {M. Henry.)
Get hold of sinners by the hand if you mean to get hold of them by the heart : — Gk>ugh,
the temperance orator, tells of the thrill of Joe Stratton's hand laid lovingly upon
his shoulder, just at the time when he was reeling on the brink of hell ; and of
another gentleman of high respectability, who came to his shop when he was
desperately strugghng to disengage himself from the coils of the serpent, and almost
ready to sink down in despair ; and how he took him by the hand, expressed his
faith in him, and bade him play the man. Gough said, " I will : " and he did — as
everybody knows. T}ie gradual healing of the blind man : — L Herb wb have
Chbist ISOLATING the man whom He wasxrd to hbal. Christ never sought to dis-
play His miraculous working ; here He absolutely tries to hide it. This suggests
the true point of view from which to look at the subject of miracles. Instead of
being merely cold, logical proofs of His mission, they were all glowing with the
•amestnesB of a loviug sympathy, and came from Him at sight of sorrow as
naturally as rays from tbe sun. A lesson about Christ's character; His benevo-
lence was without ostentation. But Christ did not invest the miracle with any of
its peculiarities for His own sake only. All that is singular about it will, I think,
find its best explanation in the condition and character of the subject, the man on
whom it was wrought. What sort of a man was he ? Well, the narrative does not
tell as much, but if we use our historical imagination and our eyes we may learn
something about him. First, he was a GentUe ; the land in which the mirKcle was
wrought was the half -heathen country on the east side of the Sea ol Chdilee. In
818 THE BIBLICAL ILLU8TBAT0B. [tauur. no,
the second place, it was other people that brought him ; he does not come of his
own accord. Then again, it is their prayer that is mentioned, not his — he asks no-
thing. And suppose he is a man of that sort, with no expectation of anything from
this Babbi, how is Christ to get at him f His eyes are shut, bo cannot see the sym-
pathy beaming in His face. There is one thing possible — to lay hold of him by the
band ; and the touch, gentle, loving, firm, says this, at least ; "Here is a man that
has some interest in me, and whether He can do anything or not for me, He is going
to try something." Would not that kindle an expectation in him ? And is it not
in parable just exactly what Jesus Christ does for the whole world ? Is not the
mystery of the Incarnation and the meaning of it wrapped up as in a germ in that
little simple incident, " He put out His hand and touched him " f Is there not in
it too a lesson for all you good-hearted Christian men and women, in all your work?
We must be content to take the hands of beggars if we are to make the blind to
see. How he would feel more and more at each step, " I am at His mercy I What
is He going to do with me ? " And how thus there would be kindled in his heart
some beginnings of an expectation, as well as some surrendering of himself to
Christ's guidance ! These two things, the expectation and the surrender, have in
them, at all events, some faint beginnings and rude germs of the highest faith, to
lead up to which is the purpose of all that Christ here does. And is not that what
He does for us all ? Sometimes by sorrows, sometimes by sick-beds, sometimes by
shutting us out from chosen spheres of activity. Ah 1 brethren, here is a lesson
from all this — if you want Jesus Christ to give yon His highest gifts and to reveal
to you His fairest beauty, you must be alone with Him. He loves to deal with
single Bouls. " I was left alone, and I saw this great vision," is the law for
all true beholding. II. We have Chbist sxoopiMa to ▲ sensb-bounb natitbb
BY THE USE OF liATEBiAL HELPS. The hand laid upon the eyes, the finger possibly
moisteued with saliva touching the ball, the pausing to question, the repeated
application. They make a ladder by which his hope and confidence might climb
to the apprehension of the blessing. And that points to a general principle
of the Divine dealings. God stoops to a feeble faith, and gives to it outward
things by which it may rise to an apprehension of spiritual realities. Is not that
the meaning of the whole complicated system of Old Testament revelation ? Is not
that the meaning of His own Incarnation ? And still further, may we not say
that this is the inmost meaning and purpose of the whole frame of the material
universe ? It exists in order that, as a parable and a symbol, it may proclaim the
things that are unseen and eternal. So in regard of all the externals of Christianity,
forms of worship, ordinances, and so on — all these, in like manner, are provided in
condescension to our weakness, in order that by them we may be lifted above them-
selves ; for the purpose of the temple is to prepare for the time and place where the
seer '*saw no temple therein.". They are but the cups that carry the wine, the
flowers whose chalices bear the honey, the ladder by which the soul may climb to
God Himself, the rafts upon which the precious treasure may be floated into our
hearts. If Christ's touch and Christ's saliva healed, it was not because of anything
in them, but because He willed it go ; and He Himself is the source of all the healing
energy. III. Lastly, we have Chbist AccoMMODATma the face or His poweb to
THE SLOWNESS OF THE man's FAITH. He was healed slowly because he believed
slowly. His faith was a condition of his cure, and the measure of it determined
the measure of the restoration ; and the rate of the growth of his faith settled the
rate of the perfecting of Christ's work on him. As a rule, faith in His power to heal
was a condition of Christ's healing, and that mainly because our Lord would rather
have men believing than sound of body. "According to your faith be it unto you.**
And here, as a nurse or a mother might do. He keeps step with the little steps, and
goes slowly because the man goes slowly. Now, both the gradual process of illu-
mination and the rate of that process as determined by faith, are true for us. How
dim and partial a glimmer of light comes to many a soul at the outset of the Chris-
tian life I How little a new convert knows about God and self and the starry truth*
of His great revelation ! Christian progress does not consist in seeing new things,
but in seeing the old things more clearly : the same Christ, the same Cross, only
more distinctly and deeply apprehended, and more closely incorporated into my
very being. We do not grow away from Him, but we grow into knowledge of Him.
But then let me remind you that just in the measure in which you expect blessing
of any kind, illumination and purif ing and help of all sorts from Jesua Christ, just
in that measure will you get it. To can limit the working of Almighty power, and
can determine the rate at which it shall work on you. God fills the water-pots to
OHAF. Tm.] ST. MARK. 819
the brim, but not beyond the brim ; and if, like the woman in the Old Testament
story, we stop bringing vessels, the oil will stop flowing. It is an awful thing to
know that we have the power, as it were, to turn a stopcock, and so increase or
diminish, or cut off altogether the supply of God's mercy and Christ's healing and
cleansing love in our hearts. You will get as much of God as you want and no
more. The measure of your desire is the measure of your capacity, and the mea-
sure of your capacity is the measure of God's gift. ** Open thy mouth wide and I
wiU fiU it" {A, Maclaren, D.D.)
Vers. 27-30. Whom do men say that I am I^ThU conversation may be taken in
three points of view : — I. Jesus Chbist the subject of universal inquibt. He
appeals to all men. 1. By the variety of His works. 2. By the vitality of His
teaching. 8. As the " Son of Man." 11. Jesus Chbist DEUAMDiNa special testi-
MONT. His followers are called — 1. To knowledge. 2. To profession. 3. To
individuality of testimony. III. Jesus Christ is revealed by His works batheb
THAN BY VERBAL PBOFESsioN. {Dv. Parker.) Personal religion : — I. Christ put
TO the disciples themselves THE QUESTION, *• Whom Say ye that I am? " 1. Christ
would turn their thoughts from others to themselves. 2. He does not take for
gianted that because they externally follow Him, they know Him, B. He examines
them on the most important of all points. 4. He examines them through them-
selves. 6. He leads them to make a confession of their faith. 6. He puts them
in a different class from the multitude. II. To this question, Peteb replied for
ALL the disciples. Their answer was — 1. Prompt They had been convinced of His
Messiahship. 2. Unanimous. The creed was very short — of one article — all held it.
8. Correct. 4. The result of Divine teaching. 6. On this answer the Church was
to be built. UI. Christ prohibits them from publibhino what they knew of Him,
IN present circumstances. 1. He would deal with them Himself. 2. The proof of
His Messiahship was not complete. 3. The Jews were not prepared. 4. The apostles
were not qualified. {Expository Discourses.) Whom do men say that I am ? —
I. The opinions that men entertained respectino Christ were of the utmost
importance. 1. According to these, they would act, and be dealt with, in this the
day of their visitation. 2. Without a knowledge of Christ they could not rely on
Him for their own personal salvation. 3. Their opinions respecting Christ indi-
cated their own true state and character. What think ye of Christ ? U. Christ
WAS concerned fob the opinions op men respecting Himself. 1. Having sown, He
now looks for the fruit. 2. If He has not been a *' savour of life unto life," He has
been a *• savour of death unto death." 3. He has shown us ih&i we should not be
indifferent as to human opinion respecting ourselves. III. Christ held men
responsible fob their opinions respecting Him. As man's judge. He deals with
their belief. IV. Christ applies to His disciples for an account op the opinions
which men had of Him. 1. Not because He was ignorant, &o, 2. But He taught
the apostles that it was part of their duty to mark the state of their fellow-men.
3. We ought to look on the things of others, and especially their eternal interests.
{Expository Discourses.) The knowledge of Christ revealed by God : — The claim
of Jesns to be the Messiah should be examined. I. Such knowledge of Christ as the
true Messiah cannot be communicated by man to man. We may have an acquaint-
ance with ancient records of kingdoms and states that have passed away ; we may
acquire an intimate acquaintance with warriors, and heroes, and statesmen, and
early monarchs, and yet be utterly uninfluenced and unaffected by what we learn ;
we may read of much that is heroic, and noble, and heart-stirring, in the achieve-
ments of many master-minds of days that are gone by, and only have our minds
influenced, as by a bright and glowing dream. And so may it be with the Scripture
records. We may be delighted, not only with the detail of ancient history, as re-
corded in the Bible, but we may be touched with the poetry and the pathos with
which the Bible abounds, and we may acquire such an appetite for the Bible, in that
sense, as shall induce us to come to it, as affording the most pleasant, and delight-
ful, and intellectual study, and yet be unacquainted with Jesus, the Son of Man
and the Son of God, and the one Mediator between our sinful souls and God ; and
instances are to be found, and ever have been, in which the mind has been stored
with the truth, and the heart untouched by it It is because we have reason to fear
that this is too common, that we press upon you the fact that a merely intellec-
tual acquaintance with the Bible is not such an acquaintance with Christ as
will meet the necessity of your case. A speculative knowledge of Christ may be
acquired by the exercise of the natural faculties ; systems of theology may be con.
890 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [oba». fm.
oeived, magnifioent and strikmg views may be obtained ; and yet the heart of a
man, as a sinner, may be altogether unmoved. He may contemplate the wondrocu
plan of redemption, as centred in Christ, and as achieved by Christ, ** in the fulness
of time " : but he may never feel the want of redemption. He may read, and be
assured of the fact, that " God so loved the world that He gave His only-begotten
Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but hare everlasting life,**
and yet never be in fear of perishing for want of Christ. He may read, and be well
assured of the fact, that *' God hath given to us eternal life, and that this life is in
His Son '* ; he may go on, and read the next verse, in which it is affirmed, *• He
that hath the Son hath life, but he that hath not the Son hath not hfe,*' and yet
remain destitute of the ••life," which God has given in Christ, because he as yet
knows not that he is •• dead in trespasses and sins.'* He may know, and be ready
to declare, without fearing contradiction, that Christ hath •• abolished death, and
brought life and immortality to light by the gospel '* ; but he may not know (or if
he does, he is not influenced by the knowledge) that he is still subject to all the
consequences of sin which Jesus came to remove. He may read in another place,
that •• the gift of God is eternal life," and yet be ignorant that all his life he has
been earning ''the wages of sin," which ••is death." II. That revelation then,
must be first general; and secondly, particular. "Blessed art thou, Simon
Barjona ; for flesh and blood hath not revealed it unto thee, but My Father, which
IS IN HEAVEN." It is the prerogative of the Father in heaven to reveal His Son.
Angels cannot tell what Jesus is ; the highest intellect in heaven would fail to
reveal it. But the Father does reveal ii. But as we have seen that multitudes
remain ignorant, though God has opened the page of revelation, we need a par-
ticular revelation. The Bible is a revelation from God the Father to us ; but
we need a revelation of Christ in us. During all lives, God has revealed Christ
to as; but has He revealed Christ in us. It must be the result of an ex-
press revelation from God the Father, through His own blessed Spirit, to our
inward souls ; it must be the everlasting Spirit •• taking of the things of Christ,
and showing them to as.'* III. That blessed abb they who havb such a know-
LBnoE OF Christ, as a bbvelation from God. ** Blessed art thoa, Simon,*' &o.
There is no true state that can be deemed blessed, but that which results from *
saving knowledge of Christ. He who has this revelation is blessed. 1. In the
certainty of his knowledge. He hath the witness in himself. 2. In the reality of
the effects of the truth. •• The truth has made him free.'* He is ••an heir of God,
and a joint-heir with Christ." 8. In the final and eternal results which follow.
"Bye hath not seen," &o. {G. Fish, LL.B.) Who am i;— I. The populab
IMPRESSION OONOBRNIMO JeSUS. II. ThB APOSTOUO CONFESSION BBOABDINO JeSUS.
m. Thb acceptance by Jesus of this confession. 1. The immense importance of
the answer given to this question. 2. The utter inadequacy of any answer to this
question save one. 3. The complete satisfaction which the true answer affords.
(J. R, Thomson, M.A,) *• Whom $ay ye that lamf*' :— I. It is evident, from the
history, that oar Lord desired to awaken some sort of anxiety in the minds of His
followers, and to excite their feelings of loyalty to truth and to Himself, so that
they might be upon their guard against disaffection under any popular pressure,
or any wild popular perversions of His character or mission. U. This, then,
was the great confession of faith, which has come down to us through the ages.
1. First, it will follow from a story like this, that it is of vast consequence what
a man believes, and all the more if he be sincere in his creed. 2. We learn also
that it is not enough to admit the bare record, and so simply consent to an historio
Christ 3. Again, to a human soul, struggling for its immortal life, Jesus the
Saviour is everything at once, or He is nothing for ever. ((7. S, RobinMon^ DJ).)
Ver. 31, 83. That the Son of Man must enffer many things.— T^ rebuke of
love ;— Let us not overlook this loving rebuke ; for (1) it cures Peter's presumption ;
(2) sets him to learn a new lesson on the heavenliness of sacrifice ; (3) prevents
the greatness of his faith being spoiled by the earthliness of his hopes. Faithful
are the wounds of a friend : but the wounds which the Saviour inflicts are kindest
of all. From Peter's weakness let us learn how hard it is to see all truth at once.
From Christ's rebnke let us learn that the •• heavenly thing " is not to seek for
glory, but for usefulness, even if we can reach it only through a cross. {R. Qlover.)
Peter rebuked Chriit, and Ckriit rebuked Peter — an altercation of more than mere
wordt ;— It is charged with practical truths. 1. Man's shortsightodness. 2. Man's
gentimemt exaggerated. 8. Man's audacity to think he can help or save Christ. On
•HAP. Tin.] ST. MARK, 821
Christ's fflde : L He rebukes the oldest 2. He rebntes the wisest— it was Peter
who said, " Thou art the Christ." 3. He shows that men are only worthy of Him
in proportion as they enter into His spirit. {Dr. Parker.) Christ's intimation
of His sufferings : — I. What there is to mabk the time wmch our blessed Saviour
thus eeleoted, for giving prominence to a new and unwelcome subject of discourse.
In the third year of His public ministry. Up to this time our Lord left the great
truth of His Godhead to work its way into the minds of His apostles. Now they
had arrived at the conviction that He was none other than the ever.living
God. What inducement led to, and what instruction may be gathered from, the
recorded fact, that when Jesus had drawn from His disciples the acknow-
ledgment of His Divinity, then, and not before, " He began to teach them that
the Son of Man must suffer many thingfc, and be rejected of the elders, and of
the chief priests, and scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again."
Now the apostles could have had none but the most indistinct apprehensions
of the ofiBce and mission of our Lord, so long as they were ignorant of the
death which He had undertaken to die. This made it appear remarkable, that
our Lord should so long have withheld the express mention of His sufferings.
As much as to say, " It will be of no avail to speak to them of My death till they
are convinced of My Deity. So long as they oiUy know Me as the Son of Man, they
will not be prepared to hear of the cross ; when they shall also know Me as the Son
of the living God, then will be the time to tell of ignominy and death." " Oh,
how strange," you may exclaim, " that the moment of discovering a Divine person
in the form of a man should be the right moment for the being informed that this
person should be crucified I To discover a Divine person is to discover what death
cannot touch ; and yet Christ waited till this discovery in regard of Himself, that
He might then expressly mention His approaching dissolution." But do yon not
observe, my brethren, what a testimony our Lord hereby gives to the fact, that the
truth of His Godhead alone explains — alone gives meaning or worth to — His having
died on the cross ? He will say nothing of His death whilst only believed to be
man ; He speaks continually of His death, when once acknowledged as God. Are
we not taught by this, that they only who believe Christ Divine, can put the right
construction on the mystery of His death, or so survey it as to draw from it what
it was intended to teach ? Then we perceive, that He must have died as a sacrifice ;
then we understand that He must have died as an atonement to be the propitiation
for our sins, to reconcile the world unto God. He could not have died for such
ends had He been only man ; but being also God, such ends could be answered and
effected by His death, though nothing less, so far as we can tell, could have
sufficed. Therefore, again and again, we say, Christ's Divinity is the explanation
of Clu-iBt's death. We seem quite justified in gathering from the text, that hence-
forward car Lord made very frequent mention of His cross. If you examine, you
will find BO many as nine instances spoken of by the evangelists ; though it was a
topic which He had not before introduced. And what is very observable is, that it
seems to have been upon occasions when the disciples were likely to have been
puffed np and exalted, that ever after our Lord took special pains to impress upon
them tlutt He must be rejected and killed. Ah ! my brethren, ought we not to
learn from this keeping the cross out of sight till faith had grown strong and high
privilege been imparted, that it is the advanced Christian who has need of per-
secution ; and that grace, in place of exempting us from, is to fit us for trial ? The
disciples must have well known that if suffering were to be their Master's lot, it
would also be theirs. If, then and thence, Jesus spake of afflictions which should
befall Himself, He must have been understood as likewise speaking of afflictions
which would befall His apostles ; and He abstained, you see, from dwelling on the
tribulation which would be the path to His kingdom, till He found His followers
strong in belief of His actual Divinity. And then take one more lesson from the
peculiarity of the occasions on which, as we have shown you, Christ made a special
point of introducing the mention of His sufferings ; occasions on which the disciples
were in danger of being puffed up and exalted. Learn to expect, and be thankfol
for, something bitter in the cup, when faith has won the victory, and yon have
tasted, in no common measore, the powers of the invisible world. You may say,
however, that it militates against much that we have advanced, that in point of
fact, Christ's mentioning His sufferings at the time when He did, produced not on
the disciples the effect which our statement supposes. We have but too good proof,
that though oar Lord deferred so long as He did speaking of His rafferin^, the
apostles were itiU onprepazed for the saying, and could neither understand it nor
21
322 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOIL [cha». thl
receive it. Even St. Peter, who had jnst made the noble eonfession which proved
liim ready and willing to hear tidings from Christ, no sooner hears of his Saviour
being rejected and killed, than he begins presumptuously to rebuke Him ; saying,
" Be it far from Thee, Lord ; this shall not be unto Thee." Yet let it not be thought
that Gbrist chose an unseasonable time, or tried an unsuitable means. The medi-
cine may be what we want ; but we, alas ! may reject it, as not being what we like.
The case may be precisely such, that from that time forth, it is wholesome that we
be admonished of appointed tribulation. We may only the more prove how the
admonition is needed, by treating it with dislike, and trying to disbelieve it. When
we find that there was such repugnance in St. Peter and his brethren to the cross,
though Christ had waited so patiently for the fittest time to introduce it, we ought
to learn the difficulty of taking part with the suffering Saviour, and submitting
oarselves meekly, aud thankfully, to the scorn and the trial of sharing His afflic-
tions. And this lesson from man's aversion to, and how much more the bearing of,
tlie cross, should bring home to us with great force, our need of being continually
disciplined by the Spirit of God. And yet it is not to pure and unmingled sorrow,
that Christ would consign the more faithful in His Church. As St. Paul writes to
the Corinthians, " as the sufferings of Christ abound in us, so our consolation also
aboundeth by Christ." How beautiful is it in our text, that if Jesus then began to
tell His disciples how He should die. He then began also to tell them how He should
rise again from the dead. It is our unbelief, or our impatience, which makes us
overlook the one statement in our eagerness to get rid of the other. If God lead
you into the wilderness, it is, as He saith by the prophet Hosea, that there He may
" speak comfortably to you, giving you vineyards from thence, and the valley of
Achor for a door of hope." {H. Melville B.D.)
Ver. 34. Whosoever will come after Me, let him deny MmaelL^FoUowing
Christ : — Here Christ very distinctly sets before all men the conditions of disciple-
.hip in His school, and of citizenship in His kingdom. It is not a kingdom of earthly
. plendour. If any would come after Him, they must expect hardships, self-denial,
cross-bearing, and scorn. Their rest and reward were not yet. He was, indeed,
the Messiah ; but it was by a rough pathway that He would bring His followers to
glory. Nolice — I. The ukhesitatiko wat im which Jesus assumes to be our
RiOHTFUii Leadeb. Elscwhere He is man's Teacher, Master, Friend, Saviour. Here
He invites followers, and offers and claims to lead. 1. Man needs a Leader; life's
by-ways are many; the labyrinth is deep; its duration is short ; the stake is great.
Man's native tendency is not upward. 2. Jesus has a rightful claim to be our
Leader. He proves it by the greatness, and wisdom, and perfection of His person
and character. 11. The sobebino way in which Jesus announces the cost or
FOLLOWING Hm. ** Whosoever will " — this points to obstacles to be overcome, and
trials to be borne. To be a true follower of Christ one needs the courage of deep
conviction and strong desire. This may seem stem. So it is. But it is not
arbitrary or unfeeling. There are two reasons for denying self. 1. The •' self " in
us is to be denied, because it is wrong. Personal salvation, without the denial of
the old nature, the sinful self in us, would be a contradiction. 2. The new spirit
that is in us requires it. The follower of Christ has gone over to His side, and
become His servant and soldier. But his new work is not easy. It was not easy
to the Saviour, for it cost Him humili8.tion, and privations, and obloquy, and
pains. III. The cheebino way in which Jesus sets befobe us the bewabds of
fatthfully followino Him. While Christ was the greatest of all preachers of
self-sacrifice, He uniformly recommended it by pledges of future good. The
reward He promises is not of any lower or sensual kind. It is that of activity,
calling into right and glad exercise every power we possess. (H. M. Oroutf D.D.)
Following Christ: — I. Its essential coNnmoNs. 1. It must be absolutely a
voluntary choice — • * Whosoever will." (a) This is a condition universally recognized
in the New Testament. (6) It is a condition that underlies the whole plan of
salvation, (c) It is a condition from which there can be no deviation. 2. It must
be absolutely an entire surrender, (a) A surrender of every part of our being to
Christ as Master. (6) A surrender of every object which He requires to be given
up. II. Its xbsential pbinciples. 1. Holiness, suggested by the necessity of the
surrender of " self." 2. Implicit obedience is suggested by the necessity of taking
up the cross. 8. To love Christ, suggested by the necessity of being ready to lose
life for Christ's sake. 4. The avowal of Christ, suggested by the words of Jesus in
^er. 88. (D. C. Hughes, MU, The Master's summons to His disciples ;— Like
Tm.] ST, MARK. 121
« eommander addresring his soldiers. Fall of dear vision and resolve. I. Thb
Ant. To overcome spiritual error and Satanio influence, and establish God's
kingdom. II. Thb conditions of its attainment. These are open to all. 1.
Self-denial. 2. Cross-bearing. 3. Obedience and imitation. II. Inoentivbs, 1.
Christ's example and inspiration. He says not "go" but **come." He goes
before, and shows the way. 2. The endeavour to save the lower "self" will
expose to certain destruction the higher •' self " ; and the sacrifice of the lower
" self " and its earthly condition of satisfaction will be the salvation of the higher
** self." 3. The value of this higher life cannot be computed. 4. Becognition of
Christ on earth is the condition of His recognition of us hereafter. {A, F. Muir^
M.A.) Come after Me .'—There is a wonderful spell in such a call. All history,
profane as well as sacred, has shown us this. The great Boman general realized
its force when he called to his soldiers, who shrank from the hardships of the
Libyan desert, and promised to go before them, and to command them nothing
which he would not first do himself. Even so Christ designed to help His followers
by the assurance that He would first suffer that which they would be called to bear
(H. M. Luekock, D.D.) Conditions of discipleship .-—There was an eagerness
among many of the people to come after Him. The wistfulness of a considerable
proportion of the northern population had been awakened. They were ruminating
anxiously on Old Testament predictions, and filled with vague expectancy. They
saw that the Babbi of Nazareth was no common Babbi. He was a wonderful Being.
It is not strange, therefore, that they pictured out to themselves all sorts of
possibilities in connection with His career. To what was He advancing? Whither
was He bound 7 Was He on His way, or was He not, to the throne of the
kingdom? The Saviour by and by gives suflBciently explicit indications of the
ultimate witherhood of His career ; but meanwhile He brings into the foreground
the moral conditions of adherence to His person and His cause. " Whosoever will
come after Me, let him deny himself ,"— let him be prepared to say No to many of
the strongest cravings of his nature, in the direction more particularly of earthly
ease, comfort, dignity, and glory. (J. Morison^ D.D.) Following Christ : — I.
Th« matter whebkin we must follow Him. 1. His holy doctrine. 3. His holy
life. Some of His actions were not imitable. (1) His miraculous works. (2) His
mediatorial acts. The things wherein we must follow Christ. 1. In that He never
sought His own praise and glory, but the praise and glory of God that sent Him
(John vii. 18 ; 1 Cor. xvi. 31). 2. In that He contemned His own will for His
Father's (Matt. xxvi. 39). 3. In daily and frequent prayer to His Father (Mark i. 35).
4. In fervent zeal to His Father's house (John ii. 17). 5. In His faith and confi-
dence. 6. His charity and love of man, shown in many ways. II. The manneb wherein
WE must follow Chbist. 1. We must follow Him in faith. 2. In ardent affection.
3. Sincerely. 4. Wholly. 6. Constantly. HI. The beasons ob motives thereunto.
1. The equity of the precept. 2. Great is the danger of not following Christ onr
Leader. (1) If we look at ourselves. (2) At danger of false guides. (3) At the world as
a gnide. 3. Argue from the safety of following Christ our Guide. (T. Taylor^ D.D.)
Essence of self-denial : — In the parish where Mr. Hervey preached, when he in-
clined toloose sentiments, there resided a ploughman well-informed in religious
matters. Mr. Hervey being advised by his physician, for the benefit of his health,
to follow the plough in order to smell the fresh earth, frequently accompanied this
ploughman in his rural employment. Mr. Hervey, understanding the ploughman
was a serions person, said to him one morning, " Wliat do you think is the hardest
thing in religion ? " To which he replied, '• I am a poor illiterate man, and you,
sir, are a minister. I beg leave to return the question." " Then," said Mr. Hervey,
*' I think the hardest thing is to deny sinful self ; " and applauded, at some length,
his own example of self-denial. The ploughman replied, *• Mr. Hervey, you have
forgotten the greatest act of the grace of self-denial, which is, to deny ourselves of
a proud confidence in our own obedience." Mr. Hervey looked at the man in
amazement, thinking him an old fool ; but in after years, when relating the story,
he would add, "I have since clearly seen who was the fool: not the wise old
Christian, but the prond James Hervey." Self-denial vnay he manifested (1) in the
subjection of our own opinions in religious matters to the authoritative announce-
ments of Scripture. If we believe God only where we can see the truth and pro-
priety of what He states, we do Him no honour. (2) In the renunciation of worldly
and social advantages. If the Spirit dwelling in us be not mightier than that
which is in the world, we cannot be Christ's disoipl s. If we have the true prindpls
of Okristianity, it will rise within us in proportion to the demand upon it. (3) \m
324 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOIt. [OKAP.
foregoing the love of eftse and qniet and wealth. The ignorant mnst be tanghl;
the knowledge of Christian principles spread ; the wiles of the devil expos^ Li
the spiritual army, all must be warriors, if they would be victors. (4) In tht
abnegation of oar own honour. The end of all our actions and sufferings is, thai
every crown earned and won may be placed on the head of Him who wore for as
the crown of thorns. {J, Leifehild.) Incentives to self-denial:—!. Necessity
for salvation. Having become corrupt through apostasy, we must be wrought on •
different mould. 2. Grateful imitation and return. Christ's love draws out oars.
3. Spiritual and eternal recompense. Even this world's goods will be restored, if
God sees we would benefit by possessing them. But in most cases the reward is
wholly spiritual — the favour of heaven instead of the friendship of mortals — the
blessed experience of being on the side of God and right. (Ibid.) Self-
denial : — I. What is meant by " himself." 1. Things outwajd : things concerning
the outward man, yet so near him, as they are, after a sort, himself ; not only his
riches, but his name, his liberty, his life ; all of which must be denied rather than
Christ and His truth. 2. Things inward, which can hardly be distinguished from
himself. (1) He must deny the wisdom of the flesh, which is enmity to God.
(2) He must deny his own corrupt will, which is contrary to God's will (3) He
must deny all his carnal passions and affections, as carnal love, hatred, fear.
(4) He must deny all his own wicked inclinations. (5) He must deny all wicked
habits and sins. U. The difjicultt of this pbecept. 1. Consider the near-
ness of things to be denied. Were it only in things without us, as to part with
riches, it were difficult enough ; but when it leads us out of our own wisdom and
judgment, what a hard province proves it. 2. Natural pride and self-love is such,
that it is with as as with Solomon (Eccles. ii. 10). We are so far from crossing
ourselves, that we endure not any other should cross as ; Haman is sick on his bed
because Mordicai denies him obeisance ; if John deny Herod his Herodias, he will
die for it ; if Jonas his gourd, he will be angry to the death ; such impatience is in
our nature, if we be crossed in our wills. 3. Distrust in God, and trust in the
means, makes the precept yet more difficult : we see not easily how we can do well
without friends, wealth, liberty, favour, preferments. Wisdom is good with an
inheritance (Eccles. vii.). We cannot live by promises, something we would have in
hand. HI. Thb necessity of self-denial. 1. The context af&rms a twofold
necessity : in the words going before — without it a man cannot be a disciple of
Christ : and in the words following — no man can take up his cross who has not
denied himselt 2. The true wisdom cannot be embraced before the other be dis-
placed, no more than light can be manifest before darkness be chased away.
3. The gospel offers Christ as a Physician, man must therefore deny the means he
can devise to help himself, before he come to see what need he hath of Christ.
4. No obedience can be acceptably performed to God without self-denial, for many
commandments are hard and difbcult. 5. Whence is all the denial of Christ at
this day, but want of self-denial. IV. The aids to self-denial. The Lord has
not left us destitute of means, if we be not wanting to ourselves. 1. Strength to
overcome ourselves is not from ourselves, therefore, we must remember that the
Spirit is given to those who ask. 2. Consider what an advantage it will be to take
ourselves in hand before our lasts be grown strong in as, and how they are far more
easily denied in the first rising then when they have seated themselves with delight
in the affections and members, and are grown from motions to acts, from acts to
customs, from customs to habits, from habits to another nature. 3. As it most
be the first, io also the continued acts of a Christian to stand in the denial of
himself, seeing the enemy continually uses our own natural inclinations against as;
he ploughs with our own heifer. 4. And because they are not denied till the
contrary be practised, our care must be that the room of our hearts must be taken
up with good desires, and the lustings of the Spirit which will keep out the desires
of the flesh. 5. Whereas distrustfulness of heart rivetteth us with the world, labour
daily for the strengthening of faith in the providence of God, and bring thy heart
to lean upon that and not upon inferior means. 6. The motives to self-denial.
1. Look to Christ, He denied Himself for us, we cannot deny too much for Him.
2. Look to the world, it will leave and deny us. 3. Look to the examples of the
saints who have denied themselves. 4. Look to hypocrites forsaking much for
God's favour ; we have Baal's priests tormenting themselves to uphold their idolatry.
5. Look to the end of our self-denial ; there meets us God's promise with a full
hand ; all will then be made up with an infinite advantage. YI. The mabkb of
SELF-DENIAL. 1. One in regard to God ; it will cast a man wholly out of himself
fliAP. tul] 8T, mark. 326
(Pn. Ixxiii. 25). 9. The second in respeet of Christ, for Christ, he can want as
well as abound (Phil. iiL 8). 3. The third, in respect of the Word of God, it is
ready for all God's will. 4. The fouriJi, in respect to himself, he that hath denied
himself will desire no way of prosperity but God's own, and will ascribe it all to
God. 6. The fifth mark is, in respect to others ; he that hath denied himself lives
not to himself, but procures the good of others, and advances to his power every
man's good. He looks not on men as they are affected to himself, but as he ought
to be affected to them. 6. The last note of self-denial is the life of faith, beyond
and without all means of help. As nothing gives more glory to God than faith, so
nothing takes so much from man. (T. Taylor, D.D.) Self-denial : — Self-denial
is a Christian principle, and yet no new thing, since in some form it must form a
part of the lives of most men. Thus, when Garibaldi was going out to battle, he
told his troops what he wanted them to do, and they said, •• Well, general, what are
you going to give ns for all this ? " He replied, •• I don't know what also you will
gat, but you will get hunger, and cold, and wounds, perhaps death." They stood
awhile in silence, and then threw up their hands ; " We are the men I " Faith in
Christ puts in action, and strengthens a desire to conquer self, which seems inherent in
human nature. The disciple^s cross : — The world in general has got ready a cross for
each of Christ's disciples. So determined is it in its opposition, and so remorseless in
its hate. It has resolved that every Christian shall be crucified, in one way or another.
If the body cannot be got hold of and transfixed, the heart may. Every true Christian
must be willing to accept this treatment for Christ's sake. He must take up his
cross, and walk with it, as it were, to the place of execution, ready for the last ex-
tremity. It is the dark side of the case ; and the phase of representation under
which it is exhibited was no doubt suggested to our Lord by the clear view He had
of the termination of His own terrestrial career. "A Christian," says Luther, "is
a Crucian." The Saviour pictures to His hearers a procession. He Himself takes
the lead with His cross. He is the chief Crucian. All His disciples follow. Each
has his own particular cross. But the direction of the procession, wiien one looks
far enough, is toward the kingdom of heavenly glory. (•/. Morison, D.D.) The
cross to he expected : — Be prepared for afflictions. To this end would Christ have us
reckon upon the cross, that we may be forewarned. He that builds a house does
not take care that the rain should not descend upon it, or the storm should not beat
upon it, or the wind blow upon it ; there is no fencing agamst these things, they
cannot be prevented by any care of ours ; but that the house may be able to endure
all this without prejudice. And he that builds a ship, does not make this his work,
that it should never meet with waves and billows ; that is impossible ; but that it
may be light and staunch, and able to endure all weathers. A man who takes care
for his body does not care for this, that he meet with no change of weather,
hot and cold, but how his body may bear all this. Thus should Christians do ; not
BO much to care how to shift and avoid afflictions, but how to bear them with
an even quiet mind. As we cannot hinder the rain from falling upon the house, nor
the waves from beating upon the ship, nor change of weather and seasons from
affecting the body, so it is not in our power to hinder the falling out of afflictions
and tribulations : all that lies upon us, is to make provision for such an hour, that
we be not overwhelmed by it. (T. Manton, D.D.) Necessity of discipline : — When
God built this world. He did not build a palace complete with appointments. This
is a drill world. Men were not dropped down upon it like manna, fit to be gathered
and used as it fell ; but like seeds, to whom the plough is father, the furrow mother,
and on which iron and stone, sickle, flail, and mill must act, before they come to the
loaf. (fl. W. Beecher.) Affiiction, our present portion: — The Christian lives in
the midst of crosses, as the fish lives in the sea. (Vianney.) DifUcuUy not con-
fined to religion : — Is religion difficult ? and what is not so, that is good for anything f
Is not the law a difficult and crabbed study f Does it not require great labour and
perpetual drudging to excel in any kind of knowledge, to be master of any art or
profession? In a word, is there anything in the world worth having, that is to be
got without pains ? And is eternal life and glory the only slight and inconsiderable
thing that is not worth our care and industry? (Archbishop Tillotson.) The cross
it a reality : — The crusaders of old, it is said, used to carry painted crosses upon
their shoulders ; it is to be feared t at many among us take up crosses which sit
just as lightly ; things of omamen , passports to respectability, a cheap exchange
for a struggle we never made, and crown we never strove for. But let us not
deceive ours^ves. None ever yet entered into the kingdom of heaven without tribu-
lation; not, perhaps, the tribnlation of fire, or rebuke, or blasphemy, but the
816 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR* [chat. Tin.
tribtilatioxi of • bowed spirit and a humble heart ; of the flesh enioified to the spirit,
and oi hard oonfliet with the powers of darkness ; and, therefore, if oar religion be
of such a pliable and elastic form as to have cost as neither pains to acqaire, nor
self-denial to preserve, nor effort to advance, nor struggle to maintain hol^ and on-
defiled — we may be assured oar place among the ranks of the risen dead will be with
that prodigious multitude who were pure in their own eyes, and yet were not washed
from their filthiness. (D. Moored M.A.) Meaning of the cross : — Carrying a cross
after Christ means, for one thing, enduring suffering for Christ. " Cross " was the
name once given to the most fei^ul engine of agony for the body ; and the words
"cross," "crucial," "excruciate," &c., have come into our language from that
material cross, and they now point, in a general way, to what has to be suffered, not
in the body, but in the soul. To carry a cross for Christ means, for another thing,
having a great weight on the mind for Christ's sake. To carry a cross for Christ
means, for another thing, that this suffering and heavily- weighted condition should
be open, not secret ; for the cross-bearer is seen. It means, for another thing, that
the man who is wHling to carry the cross for Christ is willing to suffer scorn for
Christ. No one carried a cross in the old Roman days but one who was the very
refuse of society. To be willing to canry a cross for Christ means willingness to suffer
ignominy, willingness to " go forth without the camp, bearing His reproach." To
carry a cross for Christ has another meaning. It means that for Christ's sake the
person who does so takes up a trial that comes to him in the course of God's provi-
dence, and not through his own choice, or fault, or folly. A man does, from a
sublime motive, some evil thing that good may come. Then he suffers the penalty.
When he does so, that is not suffering a cross. When a man is a violator of the
Petrine law ; when he is a busybody and a meddler in other men's matters, and
suffers the proper penalty ; when a man does a right thing at a wrong time, or in a
wrong place, or in a wrong way, and suffers the penalty ; when a man tries to help
out the cleansing efi&cacy of Christ's blood by some nostrum of his own, as if the
great Lord of the universe had mistaken the proportions in which health and sick-
ness, light and darkness, fire and frost, ease and pain, should be distributed, and
suffers a complicated penalty thereby and therefrom, that penalty is not a cross in
any one instance. Penalty is penalty, and nothing else. Whatever the cause may
be in which you are acting or suffering, penalty is penalty, not a cross taken up for
Christ. But when, for the sake of principle, for the sake of profession, for the sake
and in the course of carrying out the laws of a Christian calling, any man has to
suffer something sharp, or to bear something galling, for Christ's sake, that is a
cross. {Charles Stanford, D,D.) Taking up the cross: — I. What is this cross?
By the cross is not meant any affliction wluch belongs to the common calamities of
nature ; but that suffering which is inflicted for the profession of Christ and His
truth. 1. From Him : His fan to sift and purge us. 2. For Him : endured for His
cause and glory. 3. His in His mystical body ; not natural. 4. Not in respect of
merit, but of sympathy. U. Why is rr called thb oboss ? 1. Because of the union
between Christ and the Christian, so it is a part of Christ's own cross : for as all the
members suffered with Christ on the cross, as their Surety ; so He suffers with them
as His members. 2. That we should never think of the troubles for Christ, but cast
our eyes also upon the cross of Christ, where we shall see Him sanctifying, sweeten-
ing, and conquering all our sorrows. 8. That in all our sufferings for Christ we
should support our faith and patience in beholding what was the end of Christ's
cross, and to expect the same happy end of our crosses for Christ — the crown. III.
What is it to take up the cross ? It is not to devise voluntary affliction for our-
selves. Neither is it to pull the cross upon our shoulders. For — 1. Christ did not
carry His cross till it was laid upon Him. 2. Our rule is to use all good means for
the preservation of our bodies, health, wealth, and comfort. 3. Every bearing of
affliction must be an obedience of faith, and as such based upon a commandment
of God. No soldier must of his own head raise war against his own peace, nor set
fire upon his own house ; this is not the part of a ood soldier, but of a mutinous
fellow. So no soldier of Christ must be superfluou in suffering. 4. We may not
tempt God by running before Him, but follow Him going before us. If without sin
and with good conscience we may escape danger, a d do not, we ran upon it, and it
becomes our own cross, and not Christ's. It is e ough to suffer wrong ; we must
not offer wrong to our ovm persons. We are not ound to seek the cross, nor make
it, but to bear and take it up. Nor to fill the oujp for ourselves, but to drink it when
God reaches it. To take up the cross, therefore, ' , when a cross meet us in our way,
which we cannot without sin escape, we must now take knowledge of God's will, God's
fflUF. rm.} ST, MARK. 827
hand, God's time, and God's roioe calling ns to snffer. Now God laying on the cross,
we mast not pull away the shoulder, nor hide ourselves from the cross under the covert
of sinful shifts, nor avoid it by any unlawful means, but take it up, and buckle to
the burden. IV. Thb necessity op the cross. 1. To the godly afflictions are often
as necessary as meat and drink ; for prosperity is as a dead sea (Prov. i. 32). Stand-
ing waters contract mud, and breed vermin; a still body fills with bad humours.
Fallow and imstirred grounds are fruitful in weeds ; therefore God in great wisdom
by trials shakes them out of security, and makes them more watchful of themselves ;
scouring makes metals brighter and more useful. 2. Another reason why the Lord
hath yoked the Christian to the cross is, because He will thence fetch a strong
argument to confound Satan (Job i. 9) ; He will have it appear that His servants
love Christ and religion for itself, not for wealth or ease. 3. Comfort to the saints
in their suffering. (1) In that they have such a partner. (2) In that we have
Christ Himself at the other end of the cross, helping and supporting us. He is of
power to carry the heavy end, and bear off the weight from us. (3) In that we have
all the saints our companions. How can we sink having so many shoulders under
our burden. V. What is required in taking up the cross ? 1. A continual ex-
pectation and a standing unfearfuUy in the station wherein God hath set us, with a
strong resolution not to be discouraged, though crosses come never so thick. Ex-
pected evils smart less. 2. A contentedness to abide under a great burden, as a man
stands under the burden he hath taken up. 3. Love of God, notwithstanding the
cross. 4. Humility and silence ; not disputing the matter with God. 5. Joy and
rejoicing, not in the smart of the cross, but in waiting the sweet fruit of it. IT.
Taylor, D.D,)
Yer. 35. For vhosoever will save his life shall lose it.— Bearing the eroa : — A
threefold inducement is here held out. I. Each man has two lives — A lower and
earthly, and a higher and heavenly. If any man thinks only of the former, and
makes everything bend to that, with all its temporal enjoyments and self-pleasing,
he will forfeit all right to the latter. If, however, he learns to sit loosely to that,
and is prepared to resign it whenever a strong sense of duty prompts the resignation,
he carries in his hand a passport into a higher and nobler existence. H. There is
▲ VAST disproportion BETWEEN THE TWO LIVES. 1. Hc pioturcs to His hearcrs a
man placed upon trial for his conduct, and condemned to forfeit all claim to eternal
life, because he has thought only of the present, and taken his fill of its pleasures ;
and then He weighs in the balance one against the other, what he has gained and
what he has lost, and the former flies up at once and kicks the beam, for it is
altogether lighter than vanity itself. 2. There are many things which may be re-
covered by ransom or won back by exchange ; but eternal life, once forfeited, is past
recovery ; at least no corruptible things, such as silver and gold, neither thousands
of rams nor ten thousands of rivers of oil, can effect a redemption or offer the least
compensation. HI. He appeals to the requital at the final judgment. {H. M,
Luckock, D.D.) Meaning of the term ♦♦ life " ; — The first thing for us to do is to
settle the meaning of the word "life." In this the Lord helps us. He calls it in
one place our •• life in this world " (John xii. 25). The term is the very same which
is used in Genesis, where it is said that " man became a living soul." Again, it is
a word which the Hebrews used as a synonym for happiness. A happy life in this
world ; perhaps that phrase might do by way of beginning our definition. But that
definition is not complete. A good Christian life is a happy life ; nay, it is the
happiest of all ; and it is led in this world ; so that one might lead a happy Life in
this world, and yet lose nothing in the world to come. Let us go on then to take
in other elements. " Life in this world " appears to mean life which has no refer-
ence to any other ; a worldly life only — no more ; a life which is regarded as a
complete and finished thing in itself ; which needs no rounding and filling out by
aught to come after it ; a life which has in its activities, in its aims, in its felt neces-
sities, no relation to any other : that seems to be the hfe here spoken of . . . God
Almighty, when He made man, made him at first the tenant of this natural world,
which was to him, for a time, a home, and, during that time, gave him all that the
natural man requires : nor was it till God proposed to him a supernatural end, and
an eternal life of glory and feUcity like that of God Himself, that the natural earthly
life sank away out of sight, and man, reaching forth towards the heavenly prize, lost
his relish for visible and temporal joys. This, then, is what we understand by that
•• life " which we are bidden not to love, nor save, nor find. It is this natural exist-
enee, this earthly state, this present life, alone and by itself, with nothing in it
828 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [ohaf. Tm.
prophetic of the world to come, with nothing in it to sanctify, hallow, bless ; a life,
perhaps of toil, perhaps of pleasure, yet marked by no holy signs, secular, social,
and domestic ; wherein all is for time and man, and nothing for God. That is our
natural state ; we began that way ; and there should we have remained, but for some
act on God's part calling us away ; as the scripture calls it, " electing " as ; giving
us a new birth unto another and wholly different condition ; and begetting us again
unto a lively hope which has its spring and centre in a supernatural region. {Morgan
I)ix, D.B.) Life saved, yet lost: — Let us force again upon our thoughts the danger
of getting back into the bondage from which the Lord has made us free. This com-
mon natural life of ours ; the life of those who are " conceived and born in sin ; " the
life which is so loaded down with divers kinds of trial and sorrow; the life which has,
no doubt, much that is bright and pleasant in it, but also much that is very hard
and bitter ; this life which can be abstracted from any practical relation to aught
that is to come hereafter, and made to look as if it came out of nothing and went
back into nothing ; why should we love it so dearly as to care for nothing else ? why
should we be so wrapped up in it as to feel almost as if it sufficed to our necessity ?
Men thus love it ; and a cold shudder passes through the soul when they think,
"After a little while, comes an end, and then what shall become of me?" And
some men are like persons seeking to find what is lost. You lose a piece of silver,
and you give your whole thought to searching for it. You mislay a book, or an im-
portant paper, and you give yourself no rest till you find it again. A name is gone
from your memory, or the details of an incident from your recollection, and you
think, and think, and try to get hold of the lost idea, the impression which you
cannot trace. So do some men search the world through, fix their whole thoughts on
their life, and try to get out of it the pleasure they miss, and of it to fill the void in
their hearts. And think what it is to save : the double sense that is here. You save
a thing from destruction : you rescue a drowning man, you run in haste to snatch
something from the flames. Or again, you save things by putting them away and
making no use of them. You hide things in dark closets or on top shelves, and
there they remain, unused, till the dust settles on them, and the moth or the worm
consume them. Or so might one hide grain away, instead of sowing it in the ground,
and what might have produced the bright green leaf and the rich full fruit in the
ear, lies there sterile and valueless. Thus do some men save their lives ; they never
will take any risk ; they never do one brave, unselfish thing ; they are always in
alarm for consequences, afraid of compromising themselves or their interest, afraid
of losing the earthly possession. Or they bury their talents and skill, their ideals
and ambitions, so that when they come to die no one can recollect one single thing
they ever did in all their lives, that others might be thankful for, or for which
society was the better. {Ibid.) Insecurity of this life: — Some years ago a
vessel lay becalmed on a smooth sea in the vicinity of an iceberg. In full view the
mountain mass of frozen splendour rose before the passengers of the vessel, its
towers and pinnacles glittering in the sunlight, and clothed in the enchanting and
varied colours of the rainbow. A party on board the vessel resolved to climb the
steep sides of the iceberg, and spend the day in a picnic on the summit. The novelty
and attraction of the hazardous enterprise blinded them to the danger, and they left
the vessel, ascended the steep mountain of ice, spread their table on the sununit,
and enjoyed their dance of pleasure on the surface of the frosty marble. Nothing
disturbed their security, or marred their enjoyment. Their sport was finished and
they made their way down to the water level and embarked. But scarcely had they
reached a safe distance before the loud crash of the crumbling mass was heard.
The scene of their gaiety was covered with the huge fragments of the falling pin-
nacles, and the giant iceberg rolled over with a shock that sent a thrill of awe and
terror to the breast of every spectator. Not one of that gay party could ever be
induced to try that rash experiment again. But what is this world with all its
brilliancy, its hopes, and its alluring pleasures, but a glittering iceberg, melting
slowly away P Its false splendour, enchanting to the eye, dissolves, and as drop
after drop trickles down its sides, or steals unseen through its hidden pores, its very
foundations are undermined, and the steady decay prepares for a sudden catastrophe.
Such is the world to many who dance over its surface, and in a false security forget
the treacherous footing on wh h they stand. But can any one who knows what it
is, avoid feeling that every moment is pregnant with danger, and that the final catas-
trophe is hastening on ? Is it in a merely fanciful alarm that we warn you to fle«
from the wrath to come, that we tell you that every moment of life is full of the
deepest solemnity, and that we ad onish yon of the treacherous character of hopef
emr. Tm.] 8T. MARE, 139
that glitter like the pinnacles of the iceberg in the sunlight, which a moment may
crumble to ruined fragments, strewn over your grave ? If it is solemn to die, is it
not solemn to live, when any moment may be the door through which yoa may past
into eternity ? What are all the objects upon whioh yon rely — ^heidth, strength,
youthful vigour — but the frozen marble beneath your feet, that may yield in an hour
when you <^eam not, and leave you to sink in a river which no plummet ean fathom?
Gonld you be so secure, so heedless of warning, if you realized your true condition f
{Homiletic Encyclopaedia.) The shroud of Saladin : — Who has not heard, or
rather read, of that famous Asiatic warrior, Saladin ? After subjugating Egypt, es-
tablishing himself as Sultan of Egypt and Syria, taking towns without number, and
retaking Jerusalem itself from the hands of the crusaders, this Moslem hero of the
Third Crusade, and beau ideal of mediaeval chivalry, had at length to yield to a still
mightier conqueror. A few moments before he breathed his last he ordered a herald
to suspend on the point of a lance the shroud in which he was to be buried, and to
cry as he raised it, " Look, here is all that Saladin the Great, the conqueror, the
emperor, bears away with him of all his glory." Thus all the honours and riches
of this world, all bodily pleasures and gratifications, aU earthly greatness, are
reduced by death to the shroud and the winding-sheet ; but the soul, immortal in iti
nature, and secure in its existence, " smiles at the drawn dagger " or other imple-
ment of death. Who, then, can estimate the untold yalue of the soul ? (J. J,
Given, M.A.) Men imrnfor goods, who will not for Christ : — ^Richard Denton, ft
blacksmith, was the means of converting the martyr, William Woolsey. When told
by that holy man that he wondered he had not followed him to prison, Denton
rcpUed that he could not bum in the cause of Christ. Not long c^er, hia house
being on fire, he ran in to save some of his goods, and was burnt to death 1 And
the gospeVs: — These words, peculiar to St. Mark, are written for those who in this
day cannot follow Christ personally, as the apostles did. They teach us that those
who now forsake the comforts of home and intellectual society, and the prospects of
preferment in a wealthy Church, to preach the gospel amongst uncivilized or savage
tribes, in so doing lose their lives, or all that worldly men esteem life worth liring
for, not only for the gospel, or for the Church's sake, but for Christ Himself. (M. F,
Sadler.) Life lost and saved : — It is a riddle to flesh t*,nd blood, that the same life
should be both saved and lost : For the resolving whereof we must know that
tViere is a two-fold tribunal, the court of the world, and the court of heaven}
and as he that saves himself in the common law, may be east in the Chancery ;
so he that saves himself here in the consistories of men, may elsewhere lose
himself, namely, in the court of heaven. (T. Tavlor^ D.D,) Loving Chritt
best: — I. If we look at Christ, He is to be loved best of all, and all thingg
must be accounted "dross and dung in comparison of Him** (Phil. iii. 7, 8).
Again, if we look on His merit and desert, he loved not His life nnto death for as,
but readily offered it up on our behalf (Luke xii. 60). How then should we hold
ourselves bound in way of thankfulness, if we had a thousand lives, to give them
up for Him? shall the Just for the unjust, and not the unjust for &e Just?
II. If we look to the truth and gospel, it is far more worthy than all we can
give in exchange for it ; it cost Christ dear : He thought it worthy of His life, and
bought with His precious blood, which was the blood of God (Acts xx. 28) ; and
should we think much to buy it with our last blood ? HI. If we look on ourselves :
1. We are soldiers under Christ's colours. A soldier in the field sells his life for
a base pay, and is ready for his king and country to endure blows, gashes, and
death itself. How much more ought the Christian soldier for the love of his Cap-
tain, and honour of his profession, contemn fears and perils, and think his life
\« ell sold in so honourable a quarrel and cause as Christ's is ? 2. This is indeed
rightly to love ourselves, when we can rightly hate ourselves. We must learn to
love ourselves by not loving ourselves. (Ibid.) Thought no test of love: — I
grant we have callings, and earthly affairs, which tie us ordinarily to speak and
think of such things ; but the special calling of a Christian must be ever subor-
dinate to the general, and in all earthly business a man must carry a heavenly
mind. God gives no leave to be earthly-minded, even while a man is earthly em-
ployed. Again, the speaking and thinking more of a thing upon necessity doth
not ever argue more love unto it, but the speaking and thinking of things out of
the valuation of judgment : for instance, a workman thinks more of his tools, and
an husbandman speaks more of his husbandry, than of his wife or children, because
these are the objects of his labour ; but it follows not he loves them better, because
he does not in his judgment esteem these better. Now let a Christian preserve in
.— -^
SaO THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [osjup. tin.
his jiidgment a better estimate of Christ and heavenly things, and his speeches in
things earthly will still prefer that, and run apon it. {Ibid.) Life saved by loHng
it : — And this is, if we believe onr Lord, to save and preserve oar life by thns oast*
ing It away. A man that will save his seed, and not oast it away into the ground,
loseth it by such saving ; but if he sow it, he reneweth it, and mmtiplieth it, some^
times an hundredfold. So to lose thyself for Christ, is to save thyself, and to reap
an hundredfold. For it is but sown to spring out unto the eternal harvest. Ever
remember that the right love of a man's self is in and for Christ. Objection.
Tou speak of nothing but hindrance and loss, and as if a Christian may not
have riches, friends, life and comforts of it.' Answer, 1. Yes, he may have them,
and must save them ; but not in Christ's cause when he is called from them. 2.
Divorce not the parts of the text: as there is loss in the text, so there is a
greater gain by it ; as the harvest makes him a gainer, who in seed-time seemed a
loser. (Ibid.)
Ters. 86, 37. For what shall it profit a manf^TAe worth and exeeUeney of the
soul : — The soul of man is of inestimable value. 1. In respect of its capacity of
understanding. 2. In respect of its capacity of moral perfection. 3. In respect
of its capacity of pleasure and delight. 4. The high price which God the Father,
Son, and Holy Ghost have set upon our souls. {Dr. Scott.) ^^he gain of the
world compared with the loss of the soul ;~L_^gfi.flAfl» snPM8gn.,(^LJ It ifum uncer-
tain gain — " If." 2^4^. is a difficult gain. 3. It is a trifling gam. (4p It is an
unsatisfactory gain. (6. tt is a temporary gain. n.TrairOss sustained. 1. The
.loss of heaven. 2. The loss of happiness. 3. The loss of hope. III. Thb xnquibt
PBOPOSBD. 1. Will the pleasures of sin compensate you for eternal pain ? 2. Will
any worldly gain compensate you for the loss of the soul ? 2. Christ shunned the
offer, you accept less. 4. Or will you ask, " What must I do to be saved? " {H. F,
Pickworth.) I. The manner ow pbopoundino this truth. The manner of pro-
pounding is by a continued interrogation, which not only carrieth in it more strength
than an ordinary negation, but stirreth up the hearer to ponder and well weigh the
matter, as if he were to give his judgment and answer ; as if the Lord had said in
larger speech, " Tell me out of your own judgments and best understanding, let
your own consciences be judges whether the whole world were a reasonable gain for
the loss of the soul, or whether the whole world could recover such a loss, or no."
2. In the manner note another point of wisdom, namely, in matters of much im-
portance, as is the losing of the soul ; or else of great danger, as is the winning of
the world, to use more than ordinary vehemence. 3. Our Saviour in the manner
teacheth how naturally we are all of us inclined to the world, to seek it with all
greediness, and so have need of many and strong back biasses. II. The matteb
Ai-FORos SUNDRY INSTRUCTIONS : — 1. The moTO a man is addicted to gain the world,
the greater is the danger of losing his soul. They that will be rich fall into many
temptations and snares. 2. Desire to be rich and gain the world stuffeth the soiu
with a thousand damnable lusts, every one able to sink it to hell. 3. Desire of gain
threatens danger and singular detriment to the soul ; because it brings it almost to
an impossibility of repentance and salvation; Matt. xix. 20: "It is easier for a
camel to pass through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to be saved."
4. As it keeps out grace in all the means of it, so it eats out and casteth it out of
the heart, as the lean kine ate up the fat, and were lean and ill-favoured still.
(T. Taylor J D,D.) Gaining the world : — What a man loses this side of the grave
by this unholy bargain. 1. A good conscience. 2. His communion with God
3. His hope in the future. Some are selling their souls — 1. For pleasure. 2. For
the world. 8. For business. 4. For fear of ridicule. (eT". Vaughan, M.A.) A
sum in gospeljorithmetic : — I |)ropose to estimate and compare the value of the two
rQpertieft.-^(l. The world is a very grand property. Its flowers are God's
oughts in bTdom. Its rocks are God's thoughts in stone. Its dew-drops are God's
thoughts in pearl. How beautiful the spring with bridal blossoms in her hair.
*• Oh," you say, •• take my soul ! give me that world." But look more minutely into
the value of this world. You will not buy property unless you can get a good titl*.
You cannot get a good title to the world. In five minutes after I give up my son]
for the world, I may have to part with it. There is only one way in which I can
hold an earthly possession, and that is through the senses : bH beautiful sights
through the eye, but the eye may be blotted out — all captivating sounds through the
ear, but my ear may be deafened — all lusciousness of fruits and viands through my
taste, but my taste may be destroyed — all appreciation of culture and of art throngb
Tm.] 8T, MARK, S81
my mind, but I may lose my mind. What a frail hold, then, I have upon any
earthly possession ! Now, in courts of law, if you want to get a man off a pro-
perty, yon must serve upon him a writ of ejectment, giving him a certain time to
vacate the premises ; but when death comes to us and serves a writ of ejectment,
he does not give ns one second of forewarning. He says, ** Off| of this place !
You have no right any longer to the possession." We might cry out, " I gave
a hundred thousand dollars for that property " — the plea would be of no avail.
We might say, ** We have a warrantee deed for that property " — the plea would be
of no avail. We might say, *' We have a lien on that storehouse " — the plea would
be of no avail. Death is blind, and he cannot see a seal, and cannot read an
indenture. So that first and last, I want to tell you that when you propose that
I give up my soul for the world, you cannot give me the first item of title. Having
examined the title of a property, your next question is about insurance. You would
not be silly enough to buy a large warehouse that could not possibly be insured.
You would not have anything to do with such a property. Now, I ask you what
assurance can you give me that this world is not going to be burned up ? Absolutely
none. Geologists tell us that it is already on fire, that the heart of the world is
one great living coal, that it is just like a ship on fire at sea, the flames not bursting
out because the hatches are kept down. And yet you propose to palm off on me, in
return for my soul, a world for which, in the first place, you give no title, and in the
second place, for which you can give no insurance. ** Oh," you say, " the water of
the oceans will wash over all the land and put out the fire." Oh no, there are
/ inflammable elements in the water— hydrogen and oxygen. Call off the hydrogen,
/ and then the Atlantic and the Pacific oceans would blaze like heaps of shavings,
y "—You want me to take this world for which you can give no possible insurance.
Astronomers have swept their telescopes through the sky, and have found out that
there have been thirteen worlds, in the last two centuries, that have disappeared .
At first, they looked just like other worlds. Then they got deeply red — they were
on fire. Then they got ashen, showing they were burned down. Then they dis-
appeared, showing that even the ashes were scattered. And if the geologist be
right in his prophecy, then our world is to go in the same way. And yet you want
me to exchange my soul for it. Ah no, it is a world that is burning now. Sup-
pose you brought an insurance agent to look at your property for the purpose of
I giving yon a policy upon it, and while he stood in front of the house, he would say.
V " That house is on fire now in the basement " — yon could not get any insurance
upon it. Yet you talk about this world as though it were a safe investment, as
though you could get some insurance upon it, when down in the basement it is on fire.
I remark, also, that this world is a property, with which everybody who has taken
it as a possession, has had trouble. Now, between my house and this church, there
is a reach of land which is not built on. I ask what is the matter, and they reply
that everybody who has had anything to do with that property got into trouble about
it. It is just so with this world ; everybody who has had anything to do with it, as
a possession, has been in perplexity. How was it with Lord Byron ? Did he not
sell his immortal soul for the purpose of getting the world? Was he satisfied with
the possession? Alas, alas, the poet graphically describes his case when he says :
" Drank every cup of joy, heard every trump
Of fame ; drank early, deeply drank ; drank draughts
Which common millions might have drank. Then died
Of thirst, because there was no more to drink.*'
/ Oh yes, he had trouble with it, and so did Napoleon. After conquering nations by
the force of the sword, he lies down to die, his entire possession the military boots
^ that he insisted on having upon his feet while he was dying. So it has been with
men who had better ambition. Thackeray, one of the most genial and lovable
souls, after he had won the applause of all intelligent lands through his wonderful
genius, sits down in a restaurant in Paris, looks to the other end of the room, and
wonders whose that forlorn and wretched face is ; rising up, after awhile, he finds
that it is Thackeray in the mirror. Oh yes, this world is a cheat. Talk about a
man gaining the world I Who^everj;ained half the world ? II. Now, let us look
AJ TBX OTHER PEOPEBTT — TjELfi swjlTv^ caimot make a bargain without seeing the
comparative value. The soul 1 How shall I estimate the value of it ? Well, by its
exquisite organization. It is the most wonderful piece of mechanism ever pat
; together. Machinery is of val e in proportion as it is mighty and silent at the
839 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. LOHap. vm.
same time. Ton look at the engine and the machinery in the Philadelphia Mint,
and as you see it performing its wonderful work, you will be surprised to find how
silently it goes. Machinery that roars and tears soon destroys itself; but silent
macHmery is often most effective. Now, so it is with the soul of man, with all its
tremendous faculties — it moves in silence. Judgment without any racket, lifting its
scales; memory without any noise, bringing down all its treasures; conscience
taking its judgment-seat without any excitement ; the understanding and the will
all doing their work. Velocity, majesty, might ; but silence — silence. You listen
at the door of your heart. You can hear no sound. The soul is all quiet. It is
so delicate an instrument, that no human hand can touch it. You break a bone,
and with splinters and bandages the surgeon sets it ; the eye becomes inflamed, the
apothecary's wash cools it ; but the soul ofi the track, unbalanced, no human power
can re-adjust it. With one sweep of its wing it circles the universe, and over- vaults
the throne of God. Why, in the hour of death the soul is so mighty, it throws
aside the body as though it were a toy. It drives back medical skill as impotent. It
breaks through the circle of loved ones who stand around the dying couch. With
one leap it springs beyond star, and moon, and sun, and chasms of immensity. Oh,
it is a soul superior to all material things. I calculate further the value of the
► soul by the price that has been paid for it. ;ln St. Petersburg, there is a diamond
"^ that Government paid two hundred thousand dollars for. *• Well,** you say, ** it
must have been very valuable, or the Government would not have paid two hundred
thousand dollars for it." I want to see what my soul is worth, and what your soul
is worth, by seeing what has been paid for it. For that immortal soul, the richest
blood that was ever shed, the deepest groan that was ever uttered, all the griefs of
earth compressed into one tear, all the sufferings of earth gathered into one rapier
of pain and struck through His holy heart. Does it not imply tremendous value ?
I argue also the value of the soul from the home that has been fitted up for it in
the future. One would have thought that a street of adamant would have done.
No, it is a street of gold. One would have thought that a wall of granite would
have done. No, it is the flame of sardonyx mingling with the green of emerald.
One would have thought that an occasional doxology would have done ? No, it is
a perpetual song. {Dr. Talmage.) ThfiMdef thing forgotten :— So short-sighted
and foolish is man 1 I once read of a woman whose house was on fire. She was
very active in removingher goods, but forgot her child, who was asleep in the cradle.
At last she thought of the poor babe, and ran, with earnest desire, to save it. But
it was now too late ; the flames prevented her from crossing the threshold. Judge of
the agony of mind which wrung from her the bitter exclamation : " Oh, my child !
niy child 1 I have saved my goods, but lost my child I *' So will it be with many a
poor sinner, who spent all his life in the occupations of the world, while the "one
thing needful '* was forgotten. What will it then avail for a man to say, " I secured
a good place, or a good trade, or profession, but I lost my soul? I made many
friends, but God is my enemy. I heaped up riches, but now they must all be left."
Profit and loss ;— What is the good of life to us if we do not live f what is the
profit of being a man in form and not a man in fact? what is the worth of existence
if its worth is all, or, for the most part, outside of us and not in us ? There are
two remarks which might be made in illustration of this question, in the sense
in which I take it. I. The gain here spoken of is nominal, imaginary. II.
The loss is real, and it is the greatest conceivable. I. I shall only have tirne
here to say a few words with regard to the latter point. As to the former I will
only say, that to lose the soul, not to live man's higher life, is really also to lose the
world, whether you mean by it the material world, or the activities and pleasures of
human life. It is only in an imaginary, entirely illusory way that any man who
loses his soul gains the world. We gain as much of the world as really enriches
us, really enters in the shape of thought and feeling into the ouiTent of our existence,
really affords ns unmixed and enduring satisfaction, and we gain no more of the
world than this. We have of the world not what we call our own, but what we are
able to enjoy and no more. It is not to gain the world, to gain riches which can
buy anything the world contains, nnless you can buy along with it the power to
enjoy it. Thus rich men gain the whole world and do not gain it at all. They
have no delight in books, no interest in public affairs, no lest for amusements.
They have gained the world, and do not possess it. Their world is almost the
potest conceivable. It does not enrich them. It does not occupy their affeo-
tiona, or fill up their idle hours ; it does not lend stir or variety or charm or
to their existence. Cultivate and expand the mind : in proportion a«
▼ni.] ST. MABK. 833
you do 80, though your fortunes remain stationary, you gain the world. On
the other hand, an educated man may be poor — the inhabitant of a garret or
of a cottage ; but the world which exists for him, in which he lives, is rich and
spacious. In the observation of nature, in the study of books, above all in
the study of man, he finds deep, unfailing delights. The seas which break on
the shores of other lands, the storms that sweep over them, the streams that
flow through them, the people who inhabit them, are all full of interest to him,
and possess him and are possessed by him. In comparison with that of a
man devoid of intellectual life, his world is one full of a thousand various pleasures,
and occupations, and possessions. Without something higher and better than even
intellect and mental culture and activity, you cannot gain the world, except in a
poor and illusory manner. Only if you have the soul to scorn delights and live
laborious days, not for fame but for the good of others, to spend riches and health
and intellect and life, not in ministering to selfish tastes, be they either fine or
coarse, but in doing good, helping others to be better and happier, in being to them
a minister of the things which God has given you, and a herald to them of the glad
tidings of God's love, and man's fellow-feeling and charity ; — only if you have such
a soul can you truly gain the world, enjoy its best, purest, most various, and
abundant pleasures and satisfactions, and also have the sting taken out of its worst
trials and afiQictions. The luxury of doing good in the love of goodness, of giving
rather than receiving, is the best and richest which the world affords. It was a
luxury to enjoy which the Son of Man advised one whom He loved well, one who
had gained the world and had large possessions, to sell all that he had and give it
to the poor, and come and follow Him. The gain here spoken of, then, is illusory.
in. The loss is rg^V §nd Jjnmsaag, 1. In the first place, the soul is lost by not being
exercised. Life which is hot effort, growth, increase, is not life at all ; it is life lost.
Souls are not in danger of being lost when they are without such light as we enjoy.
They are lost. There is no contingency in the matter. Where man's higher life
has not been called forth, the loss is not what may be, but what is — it is con-
demnation and death. Only compare a savage of any country with a Christian
of your own land, and see if the loss is nothing or little. I speak of the heathen
abroad, because what is to be said of them has its application at home. Use the body,
exercise your limbs, observe the laws which govern the use of your physical nature,
and you will thus best secure its health and soundness. In the same way it does
not save the soul to entertain, as many do, a constant and worrying anxiety as to
the soul. Use the soul, exercise your higher life, and you will thus save the soul,
thus promote your higher life. 2. 1 remark, in the second, place^ thatlhe soul is losl
wJben_itjs_Eeivfijct£dj9ilid_flOirupted. It is perverted and corrupted in the sphere of
tl^ lower life. In this sphere souls are doubly lost, as a citadel for which con-
tending armies strive for weeks and months is doubly lost when those who ought to
hold it are driven out and those who ought not to hold it enter in. They are lost
as a friend is lost who becomes a foe ; they are lost as guns are lost in battle when
they are turned upon their retreating owners. When, instead of a man having
passions and commanding them, passions possess the man and and command him,
all human life, all higher life is lost ; it is gradually or rapidly narrowed, curtailed,
darkened, debased, emptied of its worth and value. The Boui is perverted in the
sphere of the lower life. It is more important, perhaps, to remark that it is per-
verted and corrupted in its own sphere. It reminds us that souls are perverted in
their own sphere — perverted not only by passion but by religion. If the light that
is in you be darkness, how great is that darkness ! If your religion is false, where
can you be in contact with truth ? Souls lost through passion often keep a mysterious
reserve of goodness in which there is hope. It is not so where religion is not love,
but sect and party, selfishness, spiritual pride, bigotry ; where religion, instead of
demolishing every wall of partition between man and man, and between man and
God, erects new barriers and new divisions. Man's higher life of faith and good-
ness is here under a double curse — ^it is cut off at once from nature and from grace,
it is severed at once from the world and God, it has neither pagan health nor
Christian beauty, neither natural bloom nor spiritual glory. 3. It is easy, I remark in
conclusion, to exhaust the world and life in all directions bttf one. As for the great
mass of men, they are by their very condition denied all, or almost aU, that makes
life attractive, beautiful, enjoyable. Even much study itself is a weariness of the
fleah. As we think of all this, we are tempted to say— Surely every man walketh in
"x Vftin dhow ; they are disquieted in vain. Other life is vain — man's true life is
moi vanity, nor T«xatioii of spirit. For all men, rich and poor, learned and ignorant
134 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. (chap. Tin,
for the dmdge toiling in darkness in a mine, for those whose labours are in the
lofty fields of science, there is a life possible, not remote, far off, unnatural, but their
own life, man's true life, life of faith and goodness, Christ's life in the unseen
nnd eternal, from which vanity is remote, to which vexation cannot come, in which
the rich find the true use of riches, the learned and gifted of their gifts, the poor
an untold wealth in poverty, all men the grandeur, worth, sacredness of this
mortal existence. In the same way, I will add, is immortality brought to hght also.
Flesh and blood may turn again to clay, all human glory may fade ; but truth and
righteousness and love are Divine and cannot die. A life which is filled by
these is a part of the life of God, who inhabiteth eternity. (J. Service, D.D.)
Selling otu's tout : — I. Let us examine, in the first place, this fine human posses-
sToyTwhic^ ihe^devil wishes Joobtain, called^.by all of the evangelists who report
Jesus' words, a man's " own"soul." XTThink of this : Each^f u^ has? a whole soul
to himself. There is that within us which has measureless capacities. ' Thesre is
within us, too, that which has marvellous susceptibilities. ^ A human heart can
weep and sing, groan and laugh, shudder and shiver. There is, also, that within us
which has untold possibilities. Each birth begins a history, the pages of which are
not written out at once. It can be a Nero or a Paul, a Saul or a David, a Bunyan
or a Byron, a star or a shadow. 2^J3;hiak.o^4hi6 Be&t~;^Thifl son] is antirely^aach
ni^'s own. We might have expected such a thing, for all God's gifts and creations
are perfect. He gave each human creature one soul, and then he placed the indi-
vidual owner in dominion over it. Hence, He respects the property-title in all His
dealings with it. •* Behold, I stand at the door and knock " (see^ Rev. iii. 20).
Even the devil has no power to steal away a man's soul unawares. ("3.; Then think
of another thing : Gieat estimates have been set upon the vBXne.fS.ti human soul.
4. Then, again, think of'thTs :'If lost, this soul of ours is all lost at once. When a
soul is sold to the devil, it resembles real estate, in that it carries all improvements
with it. For the sale of soul transfers all the powers of it. The intellect enters
perdition unchanged. Moreover, this ruin carries with it aU the soul's sensibilities.
We can suffer here ; but no one can picture with language how the finally lost at
last learn to suffer. The sale of the soul, furthermore, carries with it all its
biographies. Our souls are our biographies incorporated in existence. Each fibre
of being is a thought, a word, or a feeling. He who sells his soul to the devil sella
his father's tenderness and his mother's tears, his chances of good, his resolutions
of reform, his remembrance of Sabbaths, his own fruitless remorses over sin, his
educations, his embellishments— his all. H. Now let us, in the second place, turn
«V to consider the devil's price for a soul, called, by the evangelists all alike, " the
^ whole world'.*'" "l.'CTbserve the rather fine show it makes. 2. But now, on the
other hand, it is just fair that men should note some delusive reserves concealed in
^ this luring price. For example, remember that the devil never offered the entire
/^^ world to anybody except Jesus Christ (see Matt. iv. 8, 9). He never said anything
\ like that to a common man. Let us give even Satan his due. One lie there is he
has not yet told upon this earth. He has offered no man the whole world. Nor
' has any one person ever had it. Nor does anybody keep what he gets. 3. StiU
further : observe as you contemplate this lure of the devil, which he calls his price,
the painful drawbacks one meets in the enjoyment of it after it is attained. The
world we get attracts jealousy the moment we have it in possession. Mere posses-
sion of " the world " brings satiety. One of the kings in Europe, it is recorded,
\ wearied and disgusted with luxurious pleasures, offered a vast reward just for the
j discovery of what he called " a.new_sensation." The princes of the earth are not
contented. Rasselas was restless even in the Happy Valley. The gain of this
world engenders a fresh craving for more. Poetic justice at least was that when
the Parthians rewarded Crassus for the infamy of his avarice by pouring melted
gold down his throat until he was full of it ; then he had enough, and died. Then
love is lost in the strife of desire. III. All that remains now to be considered, is
THB^-QBAND OFFER OF CHBigT, as He, attempts to arrest the ruinous bargain He sees
going rapidly on toward its consummation. I. First, What does the Saviour say?
The answer is found in the context. From this we learn that Christ's offer
for a man's soul, is the soul itself. It is as if He said, " Give Moyour soul, and I
will secure the everlasting possession of it to yourself ; if you will lose your life—
or soul— to Me, I will see that you shall save it." He will take nothing away in this
transfer but our imperfections an our sins. 9. Then what will the Savionr ask J
Only this : ** Come to Me ; repent of sin ; trust Me for an atonement ; enter apoa
My senrioe ; try to do good ; rest n My love ; perfect yourself for heaven." 8. (kn
. vm.] 8T. MARK, 83b
the Saviour be actually in earnest ? The Son of Ck)d became the Son of man in
order to make this offer for human souls. (C S. Robinsorij D.D.) Logs of
the soul — its extent : — I. It is an entire loss. When Francis I. lost the impor-
tant battle of Pavia, he described it by saying, " We have lost all but honour." But
there is nothing to qualify or mitigate the loss of the soul. It is the loss of losses,
the death of deaths — a catastrophe unequalled in extent, and unparalleled in its
amount through all the universe of God. II. A loss without compensation. The
great fire of London consumed six hundred streets, ttiirteenthousan3Twellings, and
ninety churches, and destroyed property to the amount of seven and a half millions of
pounds sterling. Yet that calamity was in some sort changed into a blessing ; for the
rebuilding of the city, in a superior style of architecture, and with more regard to
sanitary arrangements, banished for ever the fearful plague which had previously
made such havoc. But for the loss of the soul nothing can countervail so as to
make amends for it. Ill, Ibreparable. Other losses may be repaired. Lost
friendships maybe regained or replace! ; lost health may be restored ; lost property
recovered ; but the loss of the soul can never be retrieved. When Sir Isaac New-
ton had lost some most important and complicated calculations, the result of years
of patient thought and investigation, by the burning of his papers, the loss to him
was immense ; and yet, with patience equal to his genius, he could say to the
favourite animal that caused it, " Diamond, Diamond, thou little knowest the labour
thou hast cost me 1 " But what is the loss even of years of patient philosophic in-
vestigation and profound mathematical research, compared with the loss of a human
soul, capable of conducting, in some degree, similar investigations, and of repeating
and repairing them if lost ? IV. Cast away. The second death. {J.J. Given, M.A.)
How awful the charge of souls : — Ministers have taken even the care of immortal
souls, their education for eternity, their discipline for heaven! Have we ever
essayed, however vain the effort, to take the dimensions of a soul, to sound its
depths, and explore its vast capacities ? Look at the infant child that appears but
little raised above the level of mere vegetable life. Mark the gigantic strides by
which he rises in a few short years to such wonders of intelligence, that he dives
into the hidden mysteries of nature, calculates the distance of the stars, and, by the
magio of his telescope, sees world ascending above world, and system towering
above system, np to the footstool of the throne of God I Into what, then, may a soul
expand, when, free from the prison-house of flesh, it is let out to expatiate amidst
its native heavens 1 Or, what may such a nature be in its ruins, in a fall corres-
ponding to such a height ! These, then, are the mighty concerns with which we
have professedly engaged to intermeddle. For the perdition or salvation of beings
on so immense a scale, we shall have to render an account. {H. Woodward, M.A. )
All gain i$ loss when a man does not save his soul : — He who possesses all things
without God, has nothing. No man is so foolish as to be willing to purchase an
empire at the price of his life ; and yet the world is fuU of those pretenders to wis-
dom, who give up salvation and immortal life for a vain pleasure, a handful of
money, or an inch of land. How much are the greatest conquerors to be pitied, if,
whilst intoxicated with their victories and conquests, they ravage and lay waste the
earth, their own souls are laid waste by sin and passion, and destroyed to all eternity.
(Quesnel.) The price of the soul : — An appeal to the instincts of common sense,
which comes specially home to a commercial nation like the English. The selling
price — the market value of everything is challenged. All schemes and proposals —
whether in the realm of politics or of commerce — are met with this question. The
eager desire for profit carries men away tiU there is no room left for any other pur-
pose in life. For money men will almost dare to die. There are men who for
money's worth will sell others' lives — shipowners the lives of their sailors, mothers
the happiness of their daughters. But there are more precious treasures at stake
sometimes than even flesh and blood. Some will tamper, for money's worth, with
what involves the loss of the soul. This is a gain which it is dead loss to win ; a
price which it is suicidal to pay — selling for money that which no money can buy
again ; giving — like the foolish Glaucus — golden armour for brazen ; trading on
capital; embarking, with rotten securities, on a bubble scheme. No amount of
earthly gain can free the soul from death and judgment. The moral life once gone—
its vitality not destroyed but ruined and turned against itself — how shall it be re-
covered ? Even now there is a foretaste of this awful state. At times there is within
the heart a very hell of sin ; jealousy, covetousness, cruelty, selfishness, all com-
bining to make such a hell within the breast as a man would shrink from disclosing
aven to his most lenient friend. Plain sober reason, then, obliges ns to consider
886 TEE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [dKAP. tm.
Christ's question. {H. B. Ottley, M.A.) What »hall it profit . . . ?— To be good,
nay, to pursue goodness as our ruling aim, is to make, or gain our souls. To be bad,
or not to follow after that which is good, is to unmake or lose the soul. And hence,
whatever other aims we may lawfully, or even laudably, place before us, this should
stand first with us all. For what are we profited if we should achieve the highest
distinction — what are we profited should we become great poets or artists, great
scholars or statesmen, if we did not use our powers for good ends ? Or, to use the
Vsacred familiar words, " What is any man profited if he should gain the whole woJcVd
/only by the loss of his own soul ? " Nay, more ; what is the world profited if he
^ should lose that ? I often think of Sir Walter Scott kissing Lockhart, that bitter
man of the world, and saying to him with his dying breath, •* Be good, my dear, be
good." For Scott had gone far both to gain the world, and to lose it ; only to discover
at last — as sooner or later you will discover — that nothing but goodness is of any real
worth. To be good, to do our duty in a dutiful and loving spirit, is the crown and
top of all performance. And nothing short of this, nothing apart from this, will be
of much comfort to us through life or in death. For, whatever England may do, it
is very certain that God " expects every man to do his duty " — his duty to himself,
to God, and to his neighbour — lUot only on this exceptional day or that, but every
day. {S. Cox, D.D.) Losing the soul : — If you yield to temptation and fail in
the hour of trial, if you cease from the work and retire from the strife, whatever
else you may gain, you will be losing your soul — losing possession of it, losing com-
mand of it, losing hope for it. You will be adjudging yourself unworthy of the life
eternal, condemning yourself to live in the flesh and walk after the flesh, instead of
living and walking in the spirit. All that is noblest, purest, best in you will die for
-Trant of sustenance or want of exercise. All that is loftiest and noblest in thought,
m morality, in religion, in life, will lose its power over you, its charm for you, and
will fail any longer to quicken responses of love and desire within you. If you
would know to what depths you may sink should you relinquish your aim, you have
only to recall an experience which can hardly be strange to any man of mature
years who has kept his soul alive. For who has not met an early friend, after long
years of separation, only to find that by addicting himself to sensuous or selfish
aims, by cherishing a vulgar and worldly spirit — or, in a word, by walking after the
flesh — he has belied all the fair promise of his youth, and grown insensible to the
charm and power of all that you still hold to be fairest, noblest, best ? Speak to
hiT" of the open secrets of beauty, of purity, of truth, of love, and he stares at you
as one who listens to a forgotten dream ; or perhaps — as I once saw a poor fellow
do — bursts into tears, and exclaims, " No one has spoken to me like that for an
age 1 " If you would waken any real interest in him, elicit any frank response, your
whole talk must take a lower range ; you must come down to the level on which he
now lives and moves. What has the man been doing with himself all these years ?
He has been losing his soul, suffering it to " fust in him unused." He has ex-
changed his " immortal jewel," not for the whole world — though even that were a
losing bargain — but for a little of that which even the world confesses to be vile and
«ordid and base. To that base level even you may sink, if, amid all trials and temp-
tations and defeats, you do not steadfastly pursue the high spiritual aim which
Christ invites and commands you to cherish ; if you do not seek above all else to be
good, and do not therefore follow after whatsoever things are just, true, pure, fair. Hold
fast to that aim, then ; that by your constancy you may gain and possess your soul.
{Ibid.) Loss of the soul ;— And what is it to lose a soul ? It is to let weeds grow
there instead of flowers. It is to let selfishness grow, suspicious, curious tempers
grow, wantonness grow, until they have all the field to themselves. Set these in
full force within a being, and add, if you will, a whole universe of possession : it is
hell. You may think that these are only strong rhetorical words. It is just aft
simple literal fact as that two and two make four. I do not think that you will need
to look far around you in the world for the proof of it. (J. B. Broton, B.A.)
Monuments of soul ruin : — Often, when travelling among the Alps, one sees a small
black cross planted upon a rock, or on the brink of a torrent, or on the verge of a
highway, to mark the spot where men have met with sudden death by accident.
Solemn reminders these of our mortality 1 but they led our mind still further ; for,
we said within ns, if the places where men seal themselves for the second death
could be thus maidfestly indicated, what a scene would this world present 1 Here
the memorial of a soul undone by yielding to a foul temptation, there a conscience
Beared by the rejection of a final warning, and yonder a heart for ever turned into
• stone, bj resisting the last tender appeal of love. Our plaees of worship would
OHi*. Tin.] ST, MARK. 837
•oaroe hold the sorrowful monmnents which might be erected over spots where spirits
were for ever lost — spirits that date their ruin from sinning against the gospel while
under the sound of it. (C. H. Spurgeon.) Lost, in seeking for gain : — One summer
afternoon, a steamer crowded with passengers, many of them miners from California,
was speeding along the Mississippi. Striking suddenly and strongly against the
wreck of another vessel which, unknown to the captain, lay near the surface of the
water, her bow was stove in, and she began to fill rapidly. Her deck was a scene of
wild confusion. Her boats were launched, but did not suflBce to carry off one-fourth
of the terrified passengers. The rest, divesting themselves of their garments, cast
themselves into the river, •• some on boards, and some on broken pieces of the ship ;
and BO it came to pass that they escaped all safe to land." Some minutes after the
last of them had quitted the vessel, another man appeared on her deck. Seizing a
spar, he also leaped into the river, but instead of floating as the others had done,
he sank instantly as if he had been a stone. His body was afterwards recovered,
and it was found that he had employed the quarter of an hour, in which his fellow-
passengers had been striving to save their lives, in rifling the trunks of the miners.
All around his waist their bags of gold were fastened. In one short quarter of an
hour he had gained more gold than most men earn in their lifetime ; but was he
advantaged thereby, seeing that he lost himself ? And though you should gain power,
or rank, or fame, or learning, or great wealth ; though your life should be one pro-
longed triumphal procession, all men applauding you ; though all your days you should
drink unrestrained of the cup of the world's pleasures, and never reach its bitter
dregs ; yet what shall you be advantaged if, nevertheless, you lose yourself, and, at
last, instead of being received into heaven, are cast away? {R. A. Bertram.)
Great loss for momentary gratification : — When Lysimachus was engaged in a war
with the Getae, he was so tormented by thirst, that he offered his kingdom to his ene-
mies for permission to quench it. His exclamation, when he had drunk the water
they gave him, is striking. "Ah, wretched me, who for such a momentary gratifi-
cation have lost so great a kingdom I " What sJiall a man give in exchange for his
$oul ? — Think what a solemn question these words of our Lord Jesus Christ contain I
What a mighty sum they propound to us for calculation ! I. Eveby one of us has
AN UNDYING BOUL. This is Dot the only life we have to do with — we have every
one of as an undying soul. . . . There is a conscience in all mankind that is worth
a thousand metaphysical arguments. What though we cannot see it ? Are there
not millions of things which we cannot see, and of the existence of which we have
nevertheless no doubt ? I do ask you to realize the dignity and the responsibility of
having an immortal soul ; to realize that in your soul you have the greatest t^ent
that God has committed to your charge. Know that in your soul you have a pearl
above all price, the loss of which nothing can ever make up. H. Ajjy one mat losb i
HIS OWN SOUL. Weak as we are in all things that are good, we have a mighty power
to do ourselves harm. You cannot save that soul of yours, remember that. We are
all by nature in great peril of losing our souls. But some one may ask. How may a
man lose hia soul f The answers to that question are many. Just as there are many
diseases which assault and hurt the body, so there are many evils which assault and
hurt the soul. Numerous, however, as are the ways in which a man may lose his
own soul, they may be classed under these three heads. 1. You may murder your^
own soul by open sin, or serving lusts and pleasures. 2. You may poison your own
BOol by taking up some false religion. 9. You may starve your own soul to death
by trifling and indecision. But, does it take much trouble to ruin a soul ? Oh, no !
There's nothing you need do t You have only to sit still, <&o. But are there many,
you ask, who are losing their souls 7 Yes, indeed, there are I But, who is respon-
sible for the loss of your soul ? No one but yourself 1 But, where does your soul
go when it is lost ? There is but one place to which it can go. IH. The lobs of
ANY man's souii IS THE HEAVIEST LOSS HE CAN BUFFER. No man living cahsliiywihe
full extent of the loss of the soul, nor paint it in its true coloars. Nothing can ever
make up for the loss of the soul in the life that now is. The loss of property and
character are not always irreparable ; once lost the soul is lost for evermore. The
loss of his soul is irretrievable 1 Does any one of you wish to have some clear idea
of the value of a soul ? Then go and see what men think about the value of a soul
when they are dying. Go and read the sixteenth chapter of St. Luke. Measure it
by the price that was paid for it eighteen hundred yetirs ago. We shall all under-
stand the value of a soul one day. Seek to know its value now. Do not be like the
Egyptian queen, who, in foolish ostentation, took a pearl of great value, dissolved
it in Bome acid, and then drank it off. Do not, like her, cast away that precioni
22
SM THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap, txb,
jbal of yonrs, that pearl above all price, that God has oommitted to yoor charge.
\riy . Any man's sottl may be saved. I dare say the proclamation is startling to some ;
it was once startling to me. •♦ How can these things be ? " No wonder you ask that
question. This is the great knot the heathen philosophers could never untie — this
is the problem which sages of Greece and Rome could not solve — this is a question
which nothing can answer but the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ. 1. Because
Christ has died upon the cross to bear men's sins. 2. Because Christ still lives.
3. Because the promises of Christ's gospel are full, free, and unconditional.
Application : 1. T)o not neglect your own soul. 2. Come to Christ without delay.
3. To all who have sought to have their souls saved, and have ioond Jesus a
Saviour, •• cleave to the Lord with pmpose of heart," &c. {Bishop Jiyle.) The
soul : — The soul is excellent in its nature. It is a spiritual being, ♦• it is a kind
of angelical thing." The mind sparkles with knowledge, the will is crowned with
liberty, and all the affections are as stars shining in their orbs. How quick are the
motions of a spark 1 How swift the wings of cherubim ! So quick and agile are
the motions of the soul. What is quicker than thought ? How many miles can the
soul travel in an instant ? The soul being spiritual moves upward ; it has also a
self-moving power, and can subsist when the body is dead, as the mariner can
subsist when the ship is broken ; it is also immortal — a bud o£ eternity. {T. Wat-
ton.) Preciomness of the soul : — It is a misapplication of forces for the nobler to
spend itself upon the meaner. Men do not usually care to spend a pound in the
hope of getting back a groat and no more, and yet, when the soul is given up for
the sake of worldly gain, the loss is greater still, and not even the groat remains.
C. H, Spurgeon.) Soul a jewel : — The soul is a jewel, a diamond set in a ring of
clay ; the soul is a glass in which some rays of the divine glory shine ; it is a celes-
tial spark lighted by the breath of God. (T. Watson.) Winning the world: — I
do verily believe, that the winning of the whole world of power, is in itself so
f^light a gain, that it were fair to sti^e the balance, and say there is little left ; for
even Alexander himself envied the peasant in his cottage, and thought there was
more happiness on the plains among the shepherds than in his palace amongst his
_pld and silver. (C. H. Spurgeon.) A witness to the worth of the world : —
Alexander, I summon theel what thinkest thou: is it worth much to gain the
world ? Is its sceptre the wand of happiness ? Is its crown the security of joy ?
See Alexander's tears ! He weeps 1 Yes, he weeps for another world to conquer I
Ambition is insatiable! The gain of the whole world is not enough. (Ibid,)
Profit and loss: — I. What is a man pbofited if hb should gain thb wholb
^voRLD ? Power over extensive empires. Power over great riches. Treasures of
knowledge and pleasures. What will it profit him when he comes to die ? In the
day of judgment t when he gets to hell ? II. The losing the soul. Its intrinsic
value. Its capabihties. Where the soul must go to that is lost. lU. The pbao-
TiCAL LESSON. {Ibid.) Gaining the world pretty sport : — This world is like the
boy's butterfly — it is pretty sport to chase it; but bruise its wings by an over-
earnest grasp, and it is nothing but a disappointment. {Ibid.)
Yer. 87. Or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul 7 — The folly of setting
the heart on things below, and not on things above : — No ransom can purchase life.
Yon may remember, as I do, the dying hours of a monarch who emphatically lived
to pamper the flesh, to serve lusts and pleasures, but not for God or his fellow-men.
When he knew the fatal hour was approaching, he said to the medical men about
him, " Oh, I would give any sum you name, if you would but give me another year
of life." But it was of no use. They could not ; they could but shake their heads
and tell him that One only could give life, and when He saw fit He would take it
away — God, even God. There is nothing in this world that a man can find, which
will bribe death to stop away. Kings die, and their sceptre and crown roll in the
dust. Philosophers succumb, and all their busy chambers of the brain, which have
been occupied by deep researches, become occupied by the worms of the earth. The
young man, glorying in his beauty and strength, succumbs to death, and his sun
sets at noonday. And the pretty babe, which is just opening hke a bud in all
its infantine beauty — ah, how often does death lay its cold hand on that I There
is no conceivable thing capable of saving a man, woman, or child, whom God
has appointed to die. By the question in the text, our Lord means this ; and
He means more than this. He refers also to the life of the world to come. What
ransom shall a man give for that life? There is such a ransom. There is
One who has found a ransom. It is Jesus. He is the life of the world. He that
SHAT. vm.] 8T. MARK, 839
hath the Son hath life. Have yon found this ransom? {R. W. Dibdin, M.A.)
The iouVs ramom : — What is the world, but the means of having food and raiment
and ease, in greater variety and abundance than others have them — a distinction
which, if viewed narrowly, is not worth half the pains and labour by which only it can
be obtained. But what is the soul ? It is the immortal and everlasting principle of
all thought and feeling in man's nature — the subject in which abide all hope and
fear, all joy and sorrow, all happiness and all misery. It is that part of our intel-
lectual frame which cannot die, forget, cease to be conscious, or fly from itself ;
but which lives for ever, either beloved and cherished by its Almighty Creator, or
expelled from His presence in horror and despair. If threescore years and ten
were to bring it to an end, and make all its thoughts perish ; if, after death, there
were no judgment ; if the worm of remorse were to become extinct on the bed
where the last breath goes forth, and to cease its gnawings with the mortal pains of
the body, — then might we hesitate between the interests of the present and the
future, and adopt the maxim of the atheist, ♦' Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow
we die." But, as these things cannot be ; as the soul, which sinneth and repenteth
not, has to die a death which will never be completed, a death of horror and despair,
of which the sighs and agony and groaning ascend up perpetually ; the question which
should now interest us the most is, '• What shall we give in exchange for our souls ? '•
We must, in the first place, present before God, on the altar of faith, the Atonement
which He Himself has provided, the sole procuring cause of human salvation ; we
must offer up to Him a broken and contrite heart, weaned from the world, and
devoted to His service ; we must solicit His mercy with the tears of penitence and
vows of reformation, entreating that His grace may be sufficient for us, and His
strength made perfect in oar weakness ; — and these are the things which the Lord
will accept in exchange for our souls. {Bp. Russell.) Incomputable value of the
$oul : — What would a man not give ? If he had the whole world, would he not
willingly give it, provided he really knew, believed, or felt, that otherwise he would
be utterly lost ? King Eichard, in Shakespeare, says, " My kingdom for a horse 1 "
How many kingdoms would be surrendered — if man were not utterly infatuated —
for the safety of the soul ? The Saviour has gone forward in thought, and takes
His standpoint in eternity. It is from that standpoint that He pats His
question. It is implied that the time will oome, in ^e experience of the per-
sistently infatuated, when kingdom apon kingdom — ^were they available — ^would
be an insufficient exchange for the soul. {J. Morison^ D.D.) Nothing can
compensate for loss of soul : — *• I was called upon," says an American clergyman,
•* some years ago, to visit an individual, a part of whose face had been eaten away
fcy a most loathsome cancer. Fixing my eyes on this man in his agony, I said,
* Supposing that Almighty God were to give you your choice, which would yoa
prefer, your cancer, your pain, and your sufferings, with a certainty of death before
you, but of immortality hereafter ; or health, prosperity, long life in this world, and
the risk of losing your immortal soul ? ' * Ah, sir 1 ' said the man, • give me the
cancer and the pain, with the Bible and the hope of heaven, and others may take
the world, long life, and prosperity.' " Gain cannot satisfy the heart: — Mr. Jeremiah
Burroughs, a pious minister, mentions the case of a rich man who, when he lay on
his death-bed, called for his bags of money ; and, having laid a bag of gold to his
heart, after a little he bade them take it away, saying, " It will not do ; it will not
do." Exchange for his soul — Cost of an estate : — ♦• What is the value of this
estate ? " said a gentleman to another with whom he was nding, as they passed a
fine mansion surrounded by fair and fertile fields. " I don't know what it is valued
at ; I know what it cost its late possessor." " How much ? " " His soul. Early in
life, he professed faith in Christ, and obtained a subordinate position in a mercan-
tile establishment. He continued to maintain a reputable religious profession, till
he became a partner in the firm. Then he gave less attention to religion, and more
and more to business ; and the care of this world choked the Word. He became
exceedingly rich in money, but so poor and miserly in soul, that none would have
suspected he had ever been religious. At length he purchased this large estate,
built a costly mansion, and then sickened and died. Just before he died, he
remarked, " My prosperity has been my ruin I " No satisfaction from the world
at death .-—The dying tell us that earthly possessions cannot satisfy us in death,
Philip II. of Spain cried, •• O would God I had never reigned 1 O that I had lived
alone with God I What doth all my glory profit, but that I have so much the
more torment in death." Albert the Good said, " I am surrounded with wealth and
rank, but if I trusted only to them, I should be a miserable man." Salmasioi
Ma THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chaf. tnv
«teclared, " I hate lost a world of time. Oh, sire ! mind the world Ibu, •»* God
more." Bnnsen exclaimed, " My riches and experience is having known Jwoi
Christ. All the rest is nothing.**
Vers. 38. Whosoever therefore shaU be ashamed of He and of Hy words.—
Ashamed of Jesus :^l. Inquibk into thk natubb of thb crimb or bbino ashambd
OP Chbist, and oy His wobds. The duty opposed to the crime is expressed by
confessing Christ before men ; therefore to be ashamed of Christ and of His word,
is to deny or disown Christ and His doctrine before men. There have not wanted
some in all times to justify the prudence of concealing our religious sentiments,
and to encourage men to live well with the world in an outward compliance with its
customs, provided the heart be right with God. It is also added that to suppose
it necessary for men to own their religious sentiments at the peril of their Hves, is
making God a hard master. What does our confession avail Him who can see the
heart ? But yet these are but excuses, and founded in ignorance of the nature of
religion, and of the great ends to be served by it. Were we to estimate our religion
by the service or benefit done to God, we might part with it all at once. He gets no
more by the sincerity of our hearts than by our outward prof essions ; and therefore
upon this view we may bid adieu to both. If you think, however, that there is
something in inward sincerity that is agreeable in His sight, that renders men
acceptable to Him, I wonder, at the same time, you should not think hypocrisy and
dissimulation with the world odious in His sight, and such vices as will render us
detestable to Him. To suppose inward sincerity consistent with an external hypoo-
risy toward the world, is itself a very great absurdity. For what is hypocrisy?
But how comes it to be necessary for a man to say anything about his religion ? To
a clear resolution of this question we must consider the nature of rehgion, and the
ends to be served by it. The duties of rehgion respect God but also the well-being
of the world. Religion is a principle of obedience to God, as Governor of the world.
It cannot therefore possibly be a mere secret concern between God and every man's
conscience, since it respects Him in so pubHo a character, and must extend to
everything in which God, as Governor of the world, is supposed to be concerned.
For surely it is impossible to pay the proper respect and obedience which is due to
tJie Governor of the world, whilst we deny Him, in the face of the world, to be tha
Governor of it. But further : if any religious obedience be due to God as Governor
of the world, it must principally consist in promoting the great end of His govern-
ment. Again : if it be really, as it is, impossible for us to do God any private ser-
▼ice by which He may be the better, it is very absurd to imagine that religion can
consist, or be preserved by any secret beUef or opinion, how cordially soever em-
braced. What thanks can be due to you for silently beUeving God to be the
Governor of the world, whilst you openly deny it, and in your actions disclaim it f
Even this principle, which is the foimdation of all religion, has nothing of religion
in it, so long as it is inactive, and consists in speculation, without bringing forth
fruits agreeable to such a persuasion. Lastly : if it be any part of religion to pro-
mote religion and the knowledge of God's truth in the world, it cannot be consistent
with our duty to dissemble, or to deny our faith. The man who hides hii own
religion close in his heart, tempts others, who suspect not his hypocrisy, to throw
theirs quite out ; and whilst he rejoices in this sheet anchor of a pure inward faith,
he sees others who steer after hun make shipwreck of their faith and their salva-
tion. Under this head I have one thing more to observe to you, that there are in
this vice, as indeed in most others, very different degrees. While some were con-
tented to hide themselves, and dissemble their acquaintance with Christ, St. Peter
openly denied Him, and confirmed it with an oath, that he knew not the Man.
Thus some for fear in those days of persecution, denied their Lord ; and some
im these days, such is our unhappy case, are so vain and conceited, as to be ashamed
of the Lord who bought them. Among these, some openly blaspheme Him ; others
are content to make a sport of His religion ; whilst a third sort profess a pleasure
in such conversation, though their hearts ache for their iniquity, but they want the
courage to rebuke even by their silence the sin of the scomer. All these are in the
number of those who are ashamed of Christ. Secondly : to imquibb into tub
BBVBBAL TEUPTATIONS WHICH LEAD MEN TO THIS CBIUB OF BEINa ASHAMED OF ChBI«T
AND OP His wobds. The fountain from which these temptations spring is plaiiUy
enough described in the text, " This adulterous and sinful generation." And we
know full well, that there is not a natural fear lurking in the heart of man, but the
werld knows how to reach it ; not a passion, but it has an enchantment ready Urn
IX.J ST, MARK. S41
it ; no weakness, no vanity, but it knows how to lay hold of it : so that all oar
natural hopes and fears, our passions, onr infirmities, are liable to be drawn into
the conspiracy against Christ and His word. But the other kind of temptations
come upon our invitation : we make onr faith a sacrifice to the ^reat idol, the
world, when we part with it for honour, wealth, or pleasure. In this circumstance
men take pains to show how little they value their religion, and seek occasions to
display their hbertinism and infidelity, in order to make their way to the favour
of a corrupt and degenerate age. This behaviour admits of no excuse. But when-
ever infidelity grows into credit and repute, and the world has so vitiated a taste, as
to esteem the symptoms of irreligion as signs of a good understanding and sound
judgment ; that a man cannot appear to be in earnest concerned for his religion
without being thought a fool, or suspected to be a knave ; then there arises another
temptation to make men ashamed of Christ, and of His word. No man likes to
be despised by those about him. There is a contagion in ill company, and he who
dwells with the scomer shall not be guiltless. Had our Lord been merely a teacher
of good things, without any special commission or authority from the great Creator
and Governor of the world, it would have been highly absurd to assume to Himself
this great prerogative of being owned and acknowledged before men. When, there-
fore, we read that our Lord requires of us to confess Him before men, the true way
to know what we are to confess, is to reflect what He confessed Himself ; for it
cannot be supposed that He thought it reasonable for Himself to make one confes-
sion, and for His disciples and servants to make another. Look, then, into the
gospel, and see His own confession. He confessed Himself to be the only Son of
God, to come from the bosom of the Father to die for the sins of the world ; to have
all power given to Him in heaven and earth ; to be the Judge of the world. {TJie
Practical Pulpit. ) Our great work for Christ is to confess Him : — But this confession
of Christ — this not being ashamed of Him and of His words — is different in different
generations and different societies. In the earliest age of all, the offence was the
offence of the cross — that men should not he ashamed to confess that they believed
that He who was crucified was the Son of God, and that they hoped to be saved by
His very cross. Since then, this offence has ceased in outward form, but in reality
it has reappeared under different forms of religious cowardice. In licentious ages
and societies men have been ashamed of the self-denying words and example of the
Lord ; in superstitious ages, of upholding the purity of His religion ; in heretical
ages, of manfully contending for the faith of His true godhead ; in later periods of
our history men seem to have been ashamed of confessing that we are saved through
Christ alone ; and in this age, and in learned and scientific societies, are not men
ashamed of confessing those words of Christ, and of His servants, which assert the
supernatural in our holy religion ? {M. F. Sadler.) Ashamed of Jesus : — I. Th»
PXBSONS DEscBiBED. Those who, from shame— (1) Decline to assume a profession
of the gospel ; (2) Do not maintain a consistent profession of the gospel ; (3) Aban-
don the profession of the gospel. 11. Thx doom THaBATSNxn. It is certain, awful,
just. {Plans of Sermons.)
CHAPTER DL
YsBS. 1-10. And after six days Jesus taketh with Htm Peter.— Man't transfor-
wiation: — The transfiguration of our Lord admonishes us of a change which we
are to undergo in this life. We must be conformed in our souls and spirits, and
the nse of our bodies, to the image of the Son of God (Bom. viii. 29), while we are
here, so that we may be conformed to the body of His glory hereafter (Phil. iii. 21).
O, then, what a stake have we in our treatment of this body. We must keep it in
all holiness, even on its own account, and not only because it ministers to soul and
spirit. In this same body we are to meet the Lord, and upon the use of it depends
the condition in which we shall meet Him, in glory or contempt. We must serve
Him, and do His work in it now, if we hope to serve Him in it in His heavenly and
everlasting kingdom hereafter. But how can we serve Him in it, if we employ it in
the service of a different and contrary master? And how can we keep it pure and
nndefiled as His peculiar vessel, if we be not watchful against the advances of that
master, who has so many natural friends in its house? For has not Satan fast
friends in its corrupt affections and sinful passions ? Look at the man who has
clouded his reason, palsied his limbs, by strong drink. See the disgusting, degrading
84t TEE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOB. [chap. ix.
spectacle of his helplessness ; hear the revilings, the folly, the blasphemlngs of his
fanperfeot speech. Can such a one entertain any serious thoughts about the body that
shall be ? Can he be living in the hope of being glorified together with Jesus Christ ?
See another man. His body is seen anywhere else but in this place, where is the
assembling of the body of Christ in one body, one spirit, to give glory and worship
to our great Head, with one mind, with one mouth ; to stand before that throne
where sits ^e Son of Man at the right hand of God, in that body which suffered
and rose again. What can he care about the most precious privilege of the body
that shall be ; the standing face to face before his Saviour in a like body, amid the
company of His saints in glorified bodies ? In the same manner we may go on and
deal with sins less open and gross than these, and show how inconsistent they all
are with any hope of a joyful resurrection in a glorified body ; and how necessary
is the bath of tears of repentance to all who commit them, that so their sins may
be washed out for the sake of Jesus Christ, and they may be found of Him in peace,
without spot, and blameless. Now, therefore, while yet it is the season, let ub do
the things which concern the body that shall be. Our present body is the seed of
the body to come. It may be as unlike it, as the small black shapeless seed of the
tulip is to that beautiful flower. Still it is the seed, and according as we sow it, we
shall reap. If it go into the ground laden with sin, ignorant of God's service, the
mere corrupt remains of what has been expended in folly, in idleness, in unprofit-
ableness, in rebellion against the commandments of God, in neglect of duties, in
abuse of privileges, then it will come out of it a vile and noxious weed, which shaU
be cast into the everlasting fire. But if the sinner shall turn away from his sin,
and by a change of heart and life conform to the example of Christ ; if he wiU take
his body out of the service of sin, and conformity to the world, and use it in the
service of righteousness ; if he will thus, in this world, be transformed into the
hkeness of the body of Christ, in all temperance, in all purity, in aU deeds of holy
living, then he will have " sown to the Spirit " ; and of the Spirit he shall, through
the Lord and Giver of life, reap life everlasting. In a body, no longer of flesh and
blood (which cannot inherit the kingdom of heaven), in a spiritual body, compared
with the glory and powers of which the most beautiful body in the flesh is corrup-
tion, the strongest and most healthy is the impotence of death ; he shall stand on
the everlasting mount of heaven, transfigured from this mortal body in the raiment
of a body shining as the sun, white as no fuller on earth can white, and gathered
into the. company of the sons of God, such as Moses and Ellas, and beholding the
Son of God in eternal glory face to face, shall say with the joyful cry of the song
of the full sense of thankful blessedness, "Master, it is good for us to be
here." (R. W. Evans.) On the Holy Mount : — I. That beolusion is needed
FOB THE HIGHEST DEVOTION. II. ThAT A DEVOTIONAIi SPIBIT BEES NEW OLOBY IN
Cubist and in His Woed. III. That devotion is not the whole life. IV.
That devotion fubnishes suppobt fob the pebfobmancs of the duties and thb
endubance of the tbials of life. {W. M. Taylor^ DJ).) Christ the light of
the body : — There were other wonders in that glorious vision besides the coun-
tenance of our Lord. His raiment, too, was ddanged, and became all brilliant,
white as the light itself. Was not that a lesson to them ? Was it not as if our
Lord had said to them, " I am a king, and have put on glorious apparel, but whence
does the glory of My raiment come ? I have no need of fine linen, and purple, and
embroidery, the work of men's hands ; I have no need to send My subjects to miret
and caves to dig gold and jewels to adorn My crown : the earth is Mine, and the
fulness thereof. All this glorious earth, with its trees and its flowers, its sunbeams
and its storms, is Mine. I made it — ^I can do what I will with it. All the myste-
rious laws by which the light and the heat flow out for ever from God's throne, to
lighten the sun, and the moon, and the stars of heaven — they are Mine. I am the
light of the world — the light of men's bodies as well as of their souls ; and here is
My proof of it. Look at Me. I am He that ' decketh Himself with light as it were
with a garment, who layeth the beams of His chambers in the waters, and walketh
upon the wings of the wind.' " This was the message which Christ's glory brought
the apostles — a message which they could never forget. The spiritual glory of His
countenance had shown them that He was a spiritual king — that His strength lay
in the spirit of power, and wisdom, and beauty, and love, which God had given Him
without measure; and it showed them, too, that there was such a thing as a
spiritual body, such a body as each of us some day shall have if we be found in
Christ at the resurrection of the just — a body which shall not hide a man's spirit
when it becomes subject to the wear and tear of life, and disease, and decay ; but a
8HAI. n.] 8T. MARK. 313
spiritual body— a body which shall be filled with our spirits, which shall be perfe^^tly
obedient to our spirits — a body through which the glory of our spirits shall shinti
out, as the glory of Christ's Spirit shone out through His body at the transfigura-
Hon. •• Brethren, we know not yet what we shall be, but this we do know, that
when He shall appear, we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is "
(1 John iii. 3). {C. KingsUy, M.A.) The influence of heaven here below : — The
spirits, good and bad, are all about us. There are no communications from the
spirits, but they are here and interested in our affairs. The angels are here. " Are
they not all ministering spirits, sent forth to minister for them who shall be heirs
of salvation ?" And the fallen spirits are here as well. Who dare say that there
are not demoniac possessions to-day? They are not common in Christian lands,
but I cannot regard them impossible. Men sometimes become satanically ugly
from no other apparent cause than that they give loose rein to their passions,
gratify them without restraint, and so lose, in time, all power of controlling their
passions by any consideration of self-interest. The assassin Guiteau was such a
man, and there is little doubt that Guiteau was possessed of devils. We are told
that our ♦' adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he
may devour." No doubt that the unseen world enwraps us, while we must guard
ourselves most sedulously from the superstition and deception too often connected
with the truth. (A. P. Foster.) Ecstasy cannot be continued: — Be patient in the
darkness ; you cannot have the light all the time. Peter would have three taber-
nacles. No, no 1 it was not best. We can have no continuing ecstasy. It would
rack' the soul to pieces. Many have glimpses, but no eye can look steadily on the
sun. We must console ourselves with memories and anticipations. These supreme
moments which come to us occasionally in the Christian life are foretastes of the
heavenly bliss. (Ibid.) A vision of home .-—Years ago, after a weary climb up
the flank of a high mountain, a friend led me by a path through the woods to the
head of a gorge. On either side, to right and left, stood the huge mountain, while
before us, at the end of a mighty gulf, was an enchanting vista. Five or six miles
away a village was full in sight, nestling among the hills, surrounded with lovely
green, and encircled with glories such as only a setting sun can paint on the western
sky. There was our home. Now, beyond doubt, the vision on Tabor was to the
wearied disciples, whose feet already had begun to tread a dark and dangerous
road, far more wonderful and delightful. It was to them a glimpse of home.
Far off, indeed, it seemed, and yet there at the end were glories ineffable. The
transfiguration and its teachings: — God leaves not His people in the midst of
many and sore trials, without vouchsafing to them occasional periods of spiritual
refreshment. The sight then given to them of the King in His beauty left a
heavenly savour upon the souls of the disciples, which abode with them to their
dying day. I. The glimpses of Christ obtained, and the foretastes of olort
EXPERIENCED, IN THE SANCTUARY. Between that holy mountain and a Christian
sanctuary many points of resemblance are discoverable. 1. The mountain summit
is a secluded spot, removed from the din and turmoil of the earth ; the house of
God is a spot from which worldly affairs and associations are excluded ; where the
things of time and sense fall into the background. 2. The holy hill was made by
Jesus a place of prayer. God's house is a house of prayer. It is chiefly in the
holy converse with God which is there carried on that the furrows of care and
sorrow are obliterated from his brow, the earthliness of his spirit is worn away, and
its features made to glow with a tinge of heavenly lustre. 3. The holy hill was a
mountain of testimony. A twofold testimony was here borne to Jesus, Jesus alone
remained : a token that He fulfilled the Law and Prophets. Also, " This is My
beloved Son." In the preached word in the sanctuary man bears his testimony to
Christ : a suffering Kedeemer should be presented to the mind of the people in God's
house of prayer. Also the Holy Spirit glorifies Christ — "He shall testify of Me."
4. In both places alike slumberers are awakened — ' ' Peter and they that were with
BUm were heavy with sleep, and when they were awake they saw His glory " : a
beautifrd emblem of the Word of God reaching down to the sinner's heart through
the joints of a harness of insensibility, and rousing him from the death-like trance
of sin to an apprehension of spiritual truth. When such an one is awakened, his
attention is first engaged with the Saviour's glory. The Light of the World is the
central object on which his eye fastens. But after the soul has once apprehended
the beauty and excellency of Christ, its views of Him in all His offices are con-
tinually enlarged. Fresh glimpses of the King's beauty are vouchsafed to it from
time to time in the sanctuary. II. The debion with which such oumpsks of
844 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [ohaf. Q,
Chkist and fobetastes op glory are vouchsafed. 1. One main design of th*
transfiguration in reference to the apostles was to strengthen their faith in their
Master's Divinity. 2. Another design was, doubtless, to nerve and prepare the
apostles for endurance in the cause of Christ. III. The temporary and tran-
sient CHARACTER OF THESE GLIMPSES OP ChRIST AND FORETASTES OF GLORY WHICH
THE PEOPLE OF GoD EXPERIENCE HERE BELOW. 1. Much as we could wish to re-
tain that enjoyable sense of God's presence, yet it is God's will that after we have
refreshed our spirits by these foretastes of glory, we should, " in the strength of
that meat," descend once again to the plain and encounter, for a few years more,
the buffetings of the world. The soul cannot always be in its pleasant places, not,
while this life lasts, does God intend that it should. There is a daily round of duty
which it is the Lord's will that we shall execute as His appointed task. Genuine
apprehensions of Christ's love are incentives to exertion, not to sloth and self-indul-
gence. 2. The questioning which, when our Lord approached the multitude, was
being carried on between the scribes and His disciples. The first sounds which
greeted His Divine ear on reaching the plain were sounds of debate. Nothing grates
^vith more harshness on the ear of one accustomed to hold communion with God,
and to live much in a spiritual atmosphere, than religious controversy. Those who
are called to controversy should be much in the sanctuary, and submit a willing
ear to the testimony of Jesus. {Det^n Goulburn.) The transfiguration of
Christ : — I. What the disciples saw — " He was transfigured before them." 1.
The unveiled glory of Christ. 2. The glorified attendants from the world of
spirits. 3. The bright cloud of the Divine Presence. Not a dark cloud as under the
old dispensation, but a cloud of light. II. What the disciples heard. 1. An
affecting conversation. 2. An approving testimony. 3. An authoritative command.
III. What the disciples felt. 1. The blessedness of heavenly society. 2. A
solemn awe — "sore afraid." 3. The Saviour's touch. IV. Practical instbuo-
TioNS. 1. This manifestation was given to disciples. 2. This communication was
given whilst they were praying. 3. To prepare them for future trials. {W. J.
Brock^ B.A-) Transfiguration of Christ: — 1. One design of the transfiguration,
undoubtedly, was to give the disciples some idea of Christ's future appearance, when
He should come in His kingdom. 2. But, again, another purpose of the transfigu-
ration was probably to honour Christ and His gospel. 3. But, again, we have in
this narrative, in strong contrast with the glories of the transfiguration, the weak-
ness of poor humanity. 4. But why, let us again ask, has our Church selected such
a portion of Scripture as this to be read at this season ? It seems, at first view,
very inappropriate. What have we to do in Lent with the glories of the transfigu-
ration ? Why, when we are called to humble ourselves in prayer and confession of
sin, are we directed to such a portion of God's Word as this ? Because the most
remarkable feature in this transaction was, that amid the splendours of that trans-
figuration, the death of Christ has the most prominent place. (W. H. Lewis, D.D.j
The use of religious excitement : — ^Vivid emotions are, by the law of their being,
transient. They cannot last. Possibly, their very intensity is, roughly speaking,
the measure of their evanescence. Souls cannot Hve and work on day by day wi^
the emotions at high pressure. Now, what is to be said of these occasional times of
excited feeling? I. That no man must take belioious feeling fob bblioiom.
But after that, what ? That all such excited feelings are false, and hollow, and
perilous, and must, therefore, be at once suppressed ? That plain, simple obedience
to God's wiU is all in all, and, therefore, all deep emotions are evil and to be avoided f
Surely, no. Surely, the true thing to be said is this, that God gives these periods
of strong feeling as mighty helps to our weak and wavering courage ; that they are
a spur to the halting obedience, and a goad to the reluctant will. True, these feel-
ings must be guided and regulated and led into practical channels, else, of course,
they will run to waste, and leave behind them X)nly the barrenness of a field, over
which the flood has rushed headlong in its devastating course. I am not speaking
of ungovemed and fanatical excitement, but of deep and powerful religious emotion,
when I say that God gives it to carry us by its force over the earlier difficulties of
the new and converted life, or to nerve us to resolutions and set us upon courses of
action, which would, probably, be impossible to the calculating calmness of dispas-
sionate reason. But I think, my brethren, these times of unusual religious fervour
have another use. They open to the soul visions of a state of love, and joy, and
heavenly mindedness, which, if afterwards thev torn into nothing bat regret anci
longing, nevertheless, leave behind them a blessing. It is good for Hae weary
toiler. consoiooB of hiiB cold, shallow heartedness, the poverty of his faith, and love»
n.] 8T. MARK,
345
•nd hope, to be able to say, though sighing as he Bays it :— "I have known the
blessedness of a bright, triumphant faith. I have understood what it is to pray with
holy fervour." Can it be well to say, •♦ I have known," when it were so much better
to be able to say, " I know " ? Yes, I think it is well ; for, if he be wise who says
it, he will know that these higher, deeper, keener feelings cannot be always with
him. He will gather up the truths and the duties they have brought to him, as we
gather up the bright shells and gem-like pebbles on the sea-shore when the spring
tide has ebbed. Those will be kept, when the surging waves that bore them to our
feet have retired. He will regard the swelling of his emotions, when the sun of
Ood's grace has melted the snow of his chilled heart as the overflow of a river ; and
he will no more expect the flow of his religious feeling to maintain the fulness and
force to which it has at times risen, than he would expect a river to be always at the
flood. Let us once realize that these more vivid religious emotions are occasional
helps and not permanent states, that they reveal to us what might be, but for the
weakness and earthliness of our nature, and are in themselves no proofs of high
attainments of grace, and then we may thank God for them, and not be afraid or
ashamed to say, " I have known," when we dare not say, " I know." H. How
FAB IS RELIGIOUS EMOTION TO FORM ANT PART OF OUB DAILT RELIGIOUS LITB ; OB, IN
OTHEB WORDS, HOW FAB ARE THE FEELINGS TO BE BEGULABLY EMPLOYED IN THE
gBBvicE OF God t What shall we say as to ordinary religious emotion ? Is it a
good thing or a bad thing ? Assuredly, as I repeat, our feelings were not given us
for the purpose of being crushed out. Our religion is not one of mere dry duty,
f he very fact that love holds so prominent a place in it is a proof that, at least,
lome amount of religious feeling is necessary for a true religious life. But I would
ask this : If we read our Bibles candidly, does it not seem that a greater amount of
religious emotion is expected to find place in the daily life of Christian men than is
commonly felt or commonly supposed ? St. Paul was a most thoroughly practical
man, eminently a man of action, always up and domg. He surely was one who
would scorn to let feeling take the place of obedience, or to suffer the simple daily
however
Joy» peace — a life of obedience, in other
words, without emotion, would utterly fail to satisfy him. Has, in a word, even
excitement no work to do, no end to answer, in the daily Christian life ? Take any
keen, eager, impulsive, excitable person, may I not believe that God gave such
person the power of quick impulse and eager aspiration for some worthy end ?
What is that end, my brethren ? Is it to enjoy a ball, or a novel, or a sport ? One
would really think so when one hears of so many people who, themselves keenly
enjoying all manner of worldly amusements, and throwing themselves into them
heart and soul, as we say, when they see others as keenly and engrossingly giving
themselves to religious occupations, settle the matter with a self-satisfied smile by
saying, " Oh, it is all excitement ! " Might it not be a better way of looking at it
if they should think and say, " I don't know how such an one can enjoy so much
religion. I only know I don't and can't. I wish I could. I wish I could take delight
in high and holy things. {Bishop Wahham How.) The lessons of the transfigura-
tion : — The practical question for as to consider is this — How does the transfigura-
tion fit into our lives? What should be its effect on us? I. It confibms oub
FAITH IN ChBIST AS THE TBUE BeDEEMBB OF MEN. II. It SHOULD ANIMATB US TO
FOLLOW Christ in the way of the cross. Our Lord, after announcing that He
must needs die, taught His disciples that they must die with Him and like Him ;
that they, too, must deny themselves and take up the cross ; that they must lose
their life in order to save it ; that to gain the whole world and lose their own souls
would be but a sorry exchange ; and that, if they were afraid or ashamed thus to
follow Him, He would be ashamed of them when He came in the glory of His
Father ani of the holy angels (St. Matt. xvi. 21-28 ; St. Mark viii. 31-88 ; St.
Luke ix. 21-26). Self-sacrifice is the law of the highest life ; we can only rise into
the life of love as we deny and crucify the self in us ; we must die to the flesh if
we would live and walk in the spirit ; the body must die before we can rise into a
sinless and perfect life. In one word, religion must be a life-long effort, a life-long
sacrifice. Not in mere enjoyment, even though it be an enjoyment of worship, of
prowth in knowledge, or of qniok spiritual response to fine thoughts and pure
mipulses, but by toil, by self-denial, by really spending ourselves in the service of
God and maB, by a constant reaching forth after still higher and nobler aims, do
we rise into the life and follow the example of Christ Jesus our Lord. Try your-
346 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [CHA». n.
selves by this test, then. Ask yoarselves whether your religion has yet become a
=acred and inspiring reality to you, making toil, pain, sacrifice, death itself, welcome to
you, if you may thus win Christ and be found in Him. {S. Cox^ D.D.) Elias
with Moaes : — Eeasons are not far to find why these two should be brought back
together from the other world to take part in the scene. I. They wkbb thb be.
PKESENTATrvES OF THE QUICK AND DEAD. Moscs had died ; Elijah had ascended
alive into heaven. They were types of the two great divisions which shall appear
before the same Lord when He comes in the glory of which that was a glimpse and
foretaste, the dead and the living both standing before the judgment-seat of Christ.
II. Both had passed from earth in mysteby : the first buried by the hand of God
in some unfrequented valley apart from his countrymen ; the other not dying, but
vanishing instantaneously in the midst of life. Both had disappeared, no more to
be seen by mortal eye till, in far-distant times, the same Hand that had carried
them away should bring them back on the Mount of Transfiguration. It suggests
the mighty truth, that, however we are taken, whether lost to men in the depth of
the sea, or consumed by the devouring fire, it matters nothing to the Great Keeper
of His people. Who will bring all back again at the last day. III. But the chief
motive, no doubt, was to unite together the representatives of the three great
dispensations of Divine government — the Law, the Prophets, and the Gospel,
(if. M. Lxickock, D.D.) The transfiguration gives us a pledge and earnest oj oar
personal identity in the risen state : — And doubtless one reason for the preservation
of our identity is for mutual recognition — that we may know hereafter those whom
we have known in the flesh. It puts before us a powerful incentive to make friends
on earth with whom we may spend not only the life here, but the eternal life in
heaven. Again, the scene opens up a further field of thought, when we recall the
fact that St. Peter was able to recognize Moses and Elijah, though he had never
seen them in the flesh. Shall we, then, recognize the great saints in the world to
come, whom we have learnt by the study of their lives and work to know as though
we had seen them face to face ? There was clearly something — ^it may have been
some lingerings of the splendour which illumined his face after communing with
God, which painters have tried to express by the familiar •• horns of light " — we
cannot tell what it was, but it satisfied the apostle that the form was none other
than that of Moses. Will there be nothing by which, in like manner, we shall re-
cognize the Baptist, or the Beloved Disciple, or the Blessed Virgin, or Mary
of Magdala ? Will the student of theology, who has read the mind of St. Augus-
tine, or pictured the fiery Athanase, with his feeble frame but lion heart, confronting
the world for the great mystery of the Blessed Trinity, find no means of identifying
them when they meet hereafter ? Will there be nothing to mark painters like Fra
Angelico or Raphael, or poets such as Dante, or Tasso, or Milton ? It must surely
be that marks of recognition, in all who have witnessed for God and moulded the
minds of men by tbeir words or works, will not be wanting. (Ibid.) It is good
lor us to be here : — If any earthly place or condition might have given warrant to
Peter's motion, this was it. 1. Here was a hill — the emblem of heaven. 2. Here
were two saints — the epitome of heaven. 3. Here was Christ — the Qt)d of heaven.
{Bishop Hall.) Peter and his fellows were so taken with the sight of the felicity
they saw, that they desired to abide on the mount with Jesus and the saints. What
moved them shows what will delight us when this transient world is over, and God
will gather His people to Himself. 1. Here was but Hermon ; and there will be
heaven. 2. Here were but two saints ; there, the mighty multitude no man can
number. 3. Here was but Christ transfigured ; there. He will sit at the right hand
of God, enthroned in the majesty of heaven. 4. Here was a representation for a
brief interval; there, a gift and permanent possession of blessedness. {T. M.
Lindsay, D.D.) The transfiguration teaches us that (1) Special manifestations
of favour attend entire submission to the Divine will ; (2) outward splendour is the
proper accompaniment of inward excellence ; (3) Christ is attested to men as the ob-
ject of Divine approval and delight ; (4) therefore they should love and trust, honour
and obey Him ; (5) first lessons are to be retained, that further may be received ;
(6) prophecy teaches that suffering belongs to the present service of God. (J. H. God-
win.) The transfiguration : — The Saviour was strengthened for conflict. Moses and
Elias talked with Him, not concerning the dark aspects of His death, but its wonder-
ful effects. I. The transfiguration was a preparation for the disciples. They
saw some manifestation of their Master's glory. How greatly this would strengthen
them. Was a source of comfort in after times. II. The transfiguration has its
PBACTiCAii liEssoNS FOB US. 1. The mountain of prayer is always the mountain ol
asAJt. n.] 8T. MARK, 847
transfiguration. If we would hare onr trials and sorrows transfigured, we must
get up into the mount of converse with God. Here we see them in their dark
aspect, only there can we learn how to glory in tribulation. 2. The hour of prayer
is often a foretaste of future joy. 3. Let us always remember the decease which
Jesus accomplished at Jerusalem. Christ's death is our one all-powerful argument
with God. All blessing to the world, and to us, comes through that precious death.
In heaven much of our converse will be of "the decease," &c. (7. W. Boulding.)
The glorified saint : — Every faculty, thought, and emotion shall reflect His holi-
ness, truth, and love. The leafless tree, trembling in the cold blast of the winter
windK^ is the image of what we now are ; the same tree covered with foliage,
blossoms, and fruit, is the symbol of what the sanctified soul shall be. The dark
sorrowful cloud hanging heavily in the atmosphere represents our present state ;
that cloud penetrated by the rays of the morning light, fringed with gold, made
luminous and beautiful by the splendour of the rising sun, is the expression of the
glory that shall be revealed in the spirits of redeemed men. The mind shaU be
illumined with the pure hght of knowledge unmingled with error ; the heart shall
be filled with all the emotions which constitute perfect bliss ; the imagination shall
soar to the highest regions and present nothing to the soul but visions of truth and
beauty. The whole nature shall be in harmony with itself, with God, with the holy
intelligences of the spirit-world, and with all the circumstances in which it shall
for ever exist. {Thomas Jones.) Dust of gold gathered from a variety of autliors : —
The decease was the keystone of the arch of glory. (J. Morison, D.D.) In the
interior of Christ's being there must have been an infinite fulness of heavenliness,
of all that constitutes the essential glory of heaven. (Ibid.) " Hear ye Him,"
for His words embody the very thoughts, desires, and determinations of the Divine
Mind. (Ibid.) The name of the mountain is not mentioned, and thereby super-
stition is prevented. (Bengel.) The cloud shows that human nature cannot bear
the glory of God without admixture or interposition. (Ibid.) Ah 1 bright mani-
festations in this vale of tears are always departing manifestations. {Dr. Brown.)
How can we hope ever to be transfigured from a lump of corrupt fiesh if we do not
ascend and pray? {HaU.) Exceptional hours in life : — There are exceptional hours
in human history, when men utter words which attest the grandeur of the human
mind, when the countenance burns with the fire of intelligent enthusiasm, and
the voice reaches a tone of purer music than is bom of earth ; and in those excep-
tional hours we see somewhat of the dignity of human nature. Multiply this by
infinitude, and we shall know something of what the disciples saw when Christ's
*' face did shine as the sun, and His raiment was white as the light." (eT*. Parker^ D.D.)
The hiding of the higher life : — The hiding of the higher life will oe in proportion
to its compass and elevation. The young Christian talks more of his experience
than the old Christian, just as a rill may make more noise than a river. An
ordinary mother talks much of her child ; but the mother of Christ " kept aU these
things, and pondered them in her heart." {Ibid.) Secrecy enjoined till the Son
of Man be risen from the dead : — I. Christ's lifb not to be told in fragments.
II. Th« parts of Christ's lifk are mutually explanatory. HI. The resurrection
of Christ, the great reconcilino and all-explaining fact in His ministry. His
profoundest words would have had no meaning had He not known that He would
rise again from the dead. {Ibid.) Moses and Eliat talking with Jesm : — I. De-
parted MEN ARE still LIVING. II. DSATH DOES NOT DESTROY THE INDIVIDUALITY OF
MEN. III. The GREATEST OF DEPARTED MEN ARE INTERESTED IN THE WORK OF ChRIST.
IV. Immediate personal communication between departed spirits and men yet in
the FLESH IS POSSIBLE. {Ibid.) The transfiguration of Christ: — To what may we
compare this wonderful change ? Suppose you have before you the bulbous root of the
lily plant. You look at it carefully, but there is nothing attractive about it. How
rough and unsightly it appears ! You close your eyes upon it for a brief space. You
open them again. But what a change has taken place I That plain, homely-looking
bulb has disappeared, and in its place there stands before you the lily plant. It has
reached its mature growth. Its flower is fully developed, and blooming in all its
matchless beantv ! What a marvellous change that would be ! And yet it would
be but a feeble illustration of the more wonderful change that took place in our
Saviour at His transfiguration. Here is another illustration. Suppose we are look-
ing at the western sky, towards the close of day. Great masses of dark clouds are
covering all that part of the hea ens. They are but common clouds. There is
nothing attractive or interesting about them. We do not care to take a second look
at them. We turn from them for a little while, and then look at them again. Is
548 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap, nu
the meantime the setting eon has thrown his glorious beams upon them. How
changed they now appear I All that was commonplace and nnattractive about them
is gone. How they glow and sparkle ! Gk)ld, and purple, and all the colours of
the rainbow are blending, how beautifully, there 1 Are these the same dull clouds
that we looked upon a few moments before ? Yes ; but they have been transfigured.
A wonderful change has come over them. And here we have an illustration of our
Lord's Transfiguration. The first wonder about this incident in His life is the
wonderful change which took place in His appearance then. {Dr. Newton.) How
we know there is a heaven :~Il Sunday-school teacher was talking to one of her
scholars about heaven, and the glory we shall have when we reach that blessed
place. He was a bright boy, about nine or ten years old, named Charlie. After
listening to her for a while, he said: *' But you have never been there, Miss D., and
how do you know there really is any such place? " " Charlie," said the teacher,
" you have never been to London ; how do you know there is such a city ? " " O,
I know that very well," said CharHe, " because my father is there ; and he has sent
me a letter, teUing me all about it." ♦♦ And God, my Father, is in the heavenly city,"
said Miss D,, *♦ and He has sent me a letter, telling me about the glory of heaven, and
about the way to get there. The Bible is God's letter." "Yes, I see," said Charlie,
after thinking awhile, "there must be a heaven, if you have got such a nice long
letter from there." The lesson of hope is the first lesson taught us by the transfigura-
tion. (Ibid.) The decease at Jerusalem; or, the power of the cross : — ^A heathen
ruler had heard the story of the cross, and desired to know its power. When he
was sick, and near his end, he told his servants to make him a large wooden cross,
and lay it down in his chamber. When this was done, he said : " Take me now and
lay me on the cross, and let me die there." As he lay there dying, he looked in faith
to the blood of Christ that was shed upon the cross, and said : *• It lifts me up : it
lifts me. Jesus saves me ! " and thus he died. It was not that wooden cross that
saved him ; but the death of Christ, on the cross to which He was nailed — the
death of which Closes and Elias talked with Him, that saved this heathen man.
They knew what a blessing His death would be to the world, and this was why they
talked about this death. {Ibid.)
Ver. 7. This Is My Beloved Son: hear Bim.— Hearing Christ:— I. We should
hear the Lord Jesus with resolution. ♦* I will go." Nothing shall prevent me ;
no employments, no pleasures ; no solicitations, no difi&culties. The Son of God
calls me, and I must go. Thus we ought all to feel. II. We must hear Him with
srnsMissiON. Not the pride of the world only, but our own pride, is to be resisted.
We have no right to say how much or what part of His message we will receive, or
when or where we will follow Him. III. We must hear Him with attention, with
serious and concentrated heed. IV. We must hear Him not so much from the
principle of fear, as of deep and eabnest affection. He came to speak to
us because He loved us. V. We must hear Him with sinolbnbss of mind, placing
no other instruction on a footing with His, far less yielding them the precedence.
{F. W. P. Greenwood, D.D.) The ministry of Jesus : — I. Christ is God's messengbb
TO MAN. He came forth and proceeded from the Father. Grace and truth came by
Jesus Christ. He had (1) a Divine commission ; (2) a Divine message ; (3) Divine
credentials, divinely authenticated. He spake with authority. He revealed
mysteries. H. Man's duty to God's Messbngeb. Hear Him — 1. Because His
ministry is the super cesser of the ministries of Moses and Elias. 2. Because this
ministry contains matters of universal importance. 3. Because the rejection of this
ministry leaves no moral instructor available, Christ is the truth of God, through
whom the Father's latest will is made known to man. Hear Christ's words, catch
Christ's spirit, obey Christ's law, and you shall inherit Christ's promises. {J. F.
Porter.) Hear Him : — I. Christ's authobity is Divinb. II. Christ's authobitt
IS UNDIVIDED. III. Men abb to BB heard only so FAB AB THEY BBPBAT ChBIST'S
WORDS. {J. Parker, D, D.)
Yer. 8. Save Jesus only. — Jenu only : — ^I. When the workman is tempted to waste
his employer's substance, or the time which is his property, and says to himself,
" There is nobody to see ; nobody will know," he would be checked if he remem-
bered and realized that in absolute fact he owes his duty to no man, save to Jesus
only, Jesus who for thirty years shared the workman's lot, and put dignity for ever
upon honest handiwork. II. But not alone for this world's business and behavour,
and temperament, is this tiiought true : in the matter of the soul's salvation
. nt.] ST, MARK, 34S
blessed are they who see no man save Jesus only. 1. There la danger for the young
in letting their religion be based on mere love or regard for a minister or a religious
friend. 2. Others there are who allow their religion to be unduly influenced by
particular places and circumstances. 3. In the days when we feel burdened with a
sense of our sin, may we then look to no man, save to Jesus only. 4. In the hour
of death you will have the one Friend to go with you, when all others must leave
you. (Canon Erskine Clarke.) Jesug only in death : — When Bishop Beveredge
was on his death-bed, his memory so failed that he did not know even his nearest
relative. His chaplain said, " Do you know me ? " " Who are you ? " was the
answer. His own wife asked him, " Do you know me ? " " Who are you ? " was
the only answer. On being told that it was his wife he said that he did not know
her. Then one standing by said, " Do you know Jesus Christ? " " Jesus Christ,"
he replied, reviving as if the name acted on him like a cordial, " yes, I have known
Him these forty years : He is my only hope." Brethren, when our time cometh to
depart to the place of peace, may we in like manner see no man, save Jesus only.
But if the presence of Jesus is to abide with us when flesh and heart and mind are
failing, it must be cherished in the days of health and strength and vigour. Nove
misted ifJesiu be present : — Love brings to the Saviour a flaming heart ; obedience
comes on willing feet ; patience bows down to receive its load : while faith stretches
out an empty hand, to be filled with His free gifts. A faithful Sunday-school
teacher lay dying. The light of heaven was in his eye, and seraphic smiles played
apon his thin hps, as he thought of his mighty Redeemer. Just before he sank
away, he turned to his daughter, who was trying to anticipate his every wish by
her loving care, and said, " Bring — " More he could not say, for strength was too
far gone. " What shall I bring, dear father ? " asked the anxious child. •• Bring — "
** Dear, precious father, do tell me what to bring I " The dying man rallied for a
last effort, and feebly murmured —
" Bring forth the royal diadem,
And crown Him Lord of all ! **
If, in the dosing hour of life, the Saviour is as near to ns, we cannot eomplain of
the lack of other comforters. We shall be sure to awake at last to His likeness, and
shall shine forth as the son, in onr Father's kingdom. (J. H. Norton.) ManU
abiding Friend: — Whoever and whatever vanishes, Jesna remains with £Qs
disciples. I. Though phtbxcal health depabts, He abzdbs. When heart and
flesh faO, He is present to succour and strengthen the soul, and to bear it to one of
the many mansions He has prepared. U. Though wobldlt possessions dzsappsab,
He beuaims. Secular wealu, rightly used, is an incalculable blessing ; it not only
serves to relieve from all worldly anxieties, and minister to bodily comfort and
intellectual enjoyment, but also gives ns power to help onr fellowmen both
temporally and spiritually. But how often do riches take wings and fly away !
But Christ is the tme riches : He is of more value than untold gold ; and nothing
can deprive ns of Him. UI. Though deabest vbiends dbpabt, He abides.
Good men are constantly losing from their social sphere those who have charmed
them with their presence, and inspired them with their talk. When listening to
them either in the sanctuary, the club, or on the domestic hearth, they have felt
it good to be there. But one by one they vanish ; the time comes when the best is
gone, and all is social desolation ; and like the disciples, they look around, and sec
no man any more, save Jesus only, with themselves. He is the abiding Friend.
and having Him we have all. (D. Thomas^ D.D.) Jesus only with themselves : —
L It was a symbolical intimation that whsn He that is pebpeot and etebnal
HAD come, all that WAS IMPEBPECT AMD PBEPABATOBT SHOULD VANISH AWAT. And
that this latter was the character botii of the Law and the Prophets is obvious.
Moses had Christ constantly in view, and the entire scheme of Levitical worship
which he was inspired to draw up, looked forward to Him. So, too, the prophets in
various ways predicted an age of surpassing glory, which should culminate at the
Messiah's coming. II. Not only was all prophecy fulfilled in Christ, but the
PBOPHSTIO OHABAOTBB ALSO BKCBIVEO ITS PEBFKCT DEVELOPMENT IN HlM. He
not only announced, He was, the Word of God. The lesson of this mysterious
scene was this : that Moses and Elias and Christ were three no longer, no more
separated, but made one by God. Legislator and prophet both were summoned to
the scene of the transfiguration, and both symbolically (by vanishing away,
leaTing Jesns only with the disciples) consigned their finished work into Christ's
350 TEE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [cHA». IX.
hands, knowing that henceforth there was but one dispensation, one tabernacle,
one gospel. (H. M. Ltickock, D.D.)
Ver. 10. What the rising from the dead should mean.— T^c Resurrection: it§
moral meanings: — Men heard them gladly, because they preached the resurrection;
and because the truth was so purely human as well as purely Divine, it overran
and mastered the world. I. It seems to EXPiiAiN man's place in the creation.
Mp.n's position at the head of this creation places him on the threshold of a higher
creation, in which the true sphere of his royalty lies. Such a world as this is too
small, too poor, to be the home and the realm of his manhood ; its true function is
to train him for hi8 royalty beyond. The risen man, by rising, enlarged quite
infinitely the field of man's vision, activity, interest, and hope. The risen man
explained every propulsive movement and yearning in man's nature — all his kinglike
form and instinct : while the weakness, the poverty, the pain, the dread, belonged to
his mortal and transitory sphere. Men heard the doctrine gladly, for they saw the
true form and stature of the human in the man Christ Jesus ; in the risen Christ
God's idea of humanity was for evermore unveiled. II. It seemed to unfold
THE MEANING OF THE MYSTERY OP MATTER — THE MORTAL BODY IN WHICH THE SODIt
FINDS ITSET^F ENSHRINED, OR, AS IT IS CEASELESSLY TEMPTED TO CRY, ENTOMBED.
The mystery of embodiment is the essential mystery which perplexes and bewilders
the world. Men found it hard to see how there could be fair room for the
flesh in any scheme of the world which should include the rule of a wise,
righteous, and beneficent Lord. The gospel of Jesus and the resurrection
flashes at once a flood of light on man and on his constitution. There is One, a man,
" bone of our bone, flesh of our flesh," who has borne the body through death,
who took it again joyfully when death had slain its mortality, and bore it with Him
to the spiritual and eternal world. The revelation of a glorified human body in
the world behind the veil was the sanctification, not of the body only, but also of
all material things on this side the veil ; it was the sign from heaven that they
were originally and essentially not of the devil, but of God. We cannot in these
days measure the range of that emancipation — man freed from the tormenting
thought that he bore a devilish part about with him, a body which could never be
tamed to a true subjection, never trained to a Divine use. III. It seemed to cast
LIGHT ON THE STILL DEEPER AND DARKER MYSTERY OF EVIL *, IT EXPLAINED THB
MEANING BY UNVEIlInG THE END OF MAN'S MORAL DISCIPLINE. It proclaimed, aS
nothing else that we can conceive of could proclaim, God's mastery over all that
was dark and malign in nature and in life. Thenceforth man could fight the
battle in hope, and was saved. It was the flashing out of a victorious force over
sin and death, which lit up the world and made it radiant with hope, when the
apostles preached through Jesus the resurrection from the dead. {J. B.
Brown, B.A.) Questionings concerning the resurrection set at rest: — I see the
force of all this; I admit that the death and burial of a seed, while it
suggests the bare possibility of man surviving that dissolution which we
call death, by no means raises the presumption that it is so to the height
of a proof. All we can say is that there are certain analogies for it from
plant life, and other analogies against it from animal life; and who can
tell which way it will ultimately turn ? It is at this stage of the argument that
tlie resun-ection of Jesus Christ comes in to decide our wavering minds. Until
Easter-day we stand with the disciples, questioning what the resurrection of the
dead should mean ; but now we question no longer. In this respect we are as the
contemporaries of Columbus were when he boldly set sail from Palos in August,
1492, and in less than three months set at rest the problem of ages. His return
from the voyage to the Bahamas turned presumption into proof. It was no longer
a question on which sides might be taken. In a sense it was now set at rest. It
admitted no further argument. Those who continued obstinate, and held out for
the old opinion, as some of Columbus' contemporaries did, in spite of evidence to
ihe contrary, could only be left to their own obstinacy. (J, B. Heard, M.A.)
Vers. 14-29. And when He came to His disciples, He saw a great mnltltud*
about them. — The evil spirit cast out : — Learn from this narrative — I. The omni-
potence OF TBUB FAITH IN GoD. It is uot SO much the amount of one's faith aa
the kind, and the fact that one really has it (Matt. zvii. 20). II. The powbblbsb-
NESS of Christians without tbde faith. III. The disorbditablsnebs ov
Christian inefficienct, leading to questionings and discussions that do uotm
CHAP, n.] ST. MARK. 85]
BABM THAN GOOD. IV. ThB INBrPICIENOY OF CHRISTIANS THEIR OWN FAULT. In
Christ they may be complete (Col. ii. 10). V. The duty of ever livino near t<>
Christ, rblyino on Him always and everywhere. {Aiwn.) The secret of power :—
Christ's reply taught the disciples that — 1. Miracles needed force to work them. 2.
Soul forces are the highest class of forces, and faith force is the highest of all soul
forces. 3. Faith force needs cherishing (1) by consecration watchfully kept up, i.e.,
fasting ; (2) by communion vnth God carefully maintained, i.e. , prayer. Indulgence
of the body enfeebles the soul ; living apart from God is living apart from omni-
potence. 4. Earnest love is the secret of all miracles. Had they made this
sorrow their own — fasted as for their own trouble, prayed as for their own mercy —
their love would have ♦♦believed all things," and been triumphant in its faith. {E.
Glover.) The afflicted child : — This miracle stands inseparably connected with the
transfiguration. I. The Christian is the repkesentativb of Christ. The
father came to consult Christ, but in His absence appealed to His disciples. It
should have been a safe appeal. So, everywhere and always, the Christian
represents Christ. He holds in his hands the great trust of Christianity. Coming
to him should be equivalent in the healing, saving result to coming to Christ. II.
The failure of the disciple is charged as the failure of Christlinitt.
"We do not claim the continuance of the power of miraculous healing, but we do
claim the presence of Divine power in the Church. The Christian is entrusted
with it. He should be always in possession of it. Let oar ideas be clear,
our claims carefully scriptural, but let it concern us when Christianity is
without manifested power. Men wiU be turned astray and led to question and
despise religion. lU. Christ always manifests Himself to protect His Church
AND to assert His powbb. It may be after delay. But He comes. He cannot
fail. IV. If one fails with a disciple, let him go directly to Jesus. The
petitioner who fails with the captain, goes to the colonel. If he fails again, an
earnest petitioner will not stop until he has appealed, if necessary, at headquarters,
to the commander-in-chief. V. Parents should unow the condition of their
children. Make the moral nature of your child as careful a study as his physical
nature. Do not assume too readily that, because young, he is innocent, and good,
and harmless. VI. The difficulty in the way of healing is not want of power
IN God, but want of faith in man. Faith all must have who would receive
benefits from Christ. The blessing given is in proportion to the degree of faith.
No faith, no blessing ; little faith, partial blessing ; great faith, great blessing.
(G. R. Ltavitt.) The disciples nonplussed: — Like some mighty general who, having
been absent from the field of battle, finds that his lieutenants have rashly engaged
in action and have been defeated, the left wing is broken, the right has fled, and the
centre begins to fail ; he lifts his standard in the midst of his troops, and bids
them rally around him ; they gather ; they dash upon the ail-but triumphant foe-
men, and soon they turn the balance of victory, and make the late victors turn
their ignominious backs to the flight. Brethren, here is a lesson for us. What
we want for conquest is the shout of a King in the midst of us. The presence of
Christ is victory to His Church : the absence of the Lord Jesus entails disgraceful
defeat. O armies of the living God, count not on your numbers, rely not on your
strength; reckon not upon the ability of your ministers; vaunt not in human
might ; nor on the other hand be discouraged because ye are feeble ; if He be with
you, more are they that are for you than all they that are against you. If Christ
be in your midst, there are horses of fire and chariots of fire round about you.
{G. H. Spurgeon.) The afflicted son : — I. The man's affliction. 1. It was not
personal : not in himself, but through his child. 2. It was the consequence of
affection. Our love is the source of joy ; it is also the cause of pain. Our relation-
ships are a blessing ; they often become a curse. 3. It was very terrible. A son
not only imbecile, but who could do nothing for his own support. II. Thb man's
ADVANTAGE. Affliction is not an unmixed evil. On the contrary, God often makes
it a means of the greatest blessings. In this particular case it led to two great
mercies. (1) It led to the lad himself being brought to Christ, and (2) it led to the
father going as well. How often are parents led to Christ through the suflerings
and death of their children. III. The man's mistake. Instead of going to the
Master at once, he went to the servants. They tried to afford relief, but they tried
in vain. This course is very natural to mankind. 1. Our pride induces it.
Kaaman was too proud to simply obey the Divine command ; he wanted the
prophet to come and touch him with adulation and respect. 2. Our carnality
causes it. We are of the earth earthy. We do not appreb.end spiritual things, and
362 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [cha». a.
will have nothing of them. 8. Our faithlessness prodnoes it. We don't beUeve in
the power of an unseen God, It is a painful tendency of the human mind to make
gods of men, a tendency which in ancient times developed into idolatry. lY. His
APPLICATION. Finding no other help, the man was obliged to go at last to
Christ. We may see here, however — 1. His persistency. Although not relieved
by the disciples, he was not deterred by their failure; and probably the
disciples, when they failed, did as they ought to do — pointed him to their
Master. 2. His small amount of faith. Apparently he was so disheartened
that he did not know what to do. Faith differs in degree. How strong
was that of the centurion — •• Speak but the word, and my servant shall be
healed." 3. The training of his understanding. Christ first tebuked him — " O
faithless generation," &c. — and then encouraged him — " All things are possible to
him that believeth." V. His developing faith. 1. He acknowledges his convic-
tion. He began to realize the truth of what the Master said. The germs of belief
had existed before ; otherwise he would not have approached at all. 2. He con-
fesses his imperfection — " Help my unbelief." There are degrees in everything
— in growth, health, wealth. 6. He regrets his weakness — "He said, with tears."
4. He applied for succour. We may bring all our weakness to the Saviour. VL
His success. Jesus saved the son. There is help for the weakest. (B. L.)
Sinful men may be looked upon as possessed of the devil: — In a hundred ways he
tears them, and throws them down; he stops their intelligent speech, and sen is
them wallowing and foaming in sin. None but Jesus can do helpless sinners
good. Even disciples fail. No priest can ofifer suflScient sacrifice ; no man can
redeem his brother. " Bring him unto Me I " Faith is in every case of instru-
mental usefulness positively indispensable. There are times when Christ Himself
will do no mighty works because of unbelief. ** 0 faithless generation I " How
quickly this explains the coldness and backwardness of the churches. When faith
is feeble, what faith there is may well be employed in securing more faith. " Help
mine unbelief." Pray to the '♦ Lord," even if the word be not in this verse; and
pray " with tears " too 1 (C7. S. Robinson, D.D.) The dumb ma.n possessed with a
devil : — I. The case of this man. 1. This does not appear to be an ordinary case
of dumbness. 2. It was not due to mental ecstasy, such as occasionally produced
a temporary suspension of speech. The father of Baptist. 3. The man is
described in simple and instructive language as having "a dumb spirit." (1)
There is the dumbness of a careless heart. (2) The dumbness of formalism.
(3) The dumbness of shame and disappointment. (4) The dumbness of despair.
II. The intervention of the man's friends. III. Thb poweb or Jbsos. 1.
absolute supremacy. 2. The manner of the exercise. 3. The mystery of its
power. (L. H. Wiseman, M.A.) L The application itself. 1. It was made
by an afflicted parent. The child mentally afflicted in mind and hody — " Oft-
times the evil spirit." Every sinner is so far under the power of the devil. 2. It
was made by a party that deeply felt the circumstances in which he himself and
his suffering chUd were placed 3. That the person who made it stood ready to
do whatever our Lord should direct. For this readiness to obey a truly humble heart
prepares us, softened by grace. 4. He despaired of help from any other quarter.
He was on the verge of despair previous to our Saviour's administering help. Our
minds must be brought off from every other dependence. 6. The party before us
had a Httle faith, and was pleading for more. II. Thb becbption which this
APPLICATION TO OUR Savioub MET WITH. 1. Jcsus administers reproof to His
disciples and to all around Him. Christ often has to reprove us ; we deserve it. 2.
Jesus directs the sufferer to be brought to Him. 3. Jesus proceeds to correct the
views, and inform the mind of the suppliant. Light is given with grace. 4. Jesus
gives the party before us the warrant or authority for that faith which He called
him to exercise. 5. He strengthens the confidence of the party, whom He thus
authorizes to draw near to Him for the blessing requested. 6. The earnestness
with which we should draw near to the Great Physician for spiritual help. 7. In
some cases of healing special means «re to be employed — ** Prayer and fasting."
{Joseph Taylor.)
Ver. 19. OtaltbleaBeen&ta.tlQn.— CkrisVs lament over faithlessneu:—!. The first
thing that seems to be in these words is not anger, indeed, but a very distinct and very
pathetic expression of Christ's infinitb pain, becausb of man's faithlbssnbss. The
element of personal sorrow is most obvious here. It is not only that He is sad for their
sakes, that they are so onreoeptive, bat He feels for Himself, just as we do in oat
IS*] ST. MARK. 855
hmnble measure, the chUling effect of an atmosphere where there is no sympathy.
There never was such a lonely soul on this earth as His, just because there never was
another go pure and loving. The plain felt soul-chilling after the blessed com-
munion of the mountain. For once the pain He felt broke the bounds of restraint,
and shaped for itself this pathetic utterance, " How long shall I be with you ? " I do
oot know that there is one in which the title of " The man of sorrows " is to all
deeper thinking more pathetically vindicated than in this— the solitude of the
imcomprehended and the unaccepted Christ— His pain at His disciples' faithlessness.
And then do not let us forget that in this short sharp cry of anguish— for it is that—
there may be detected by the listening ear not only the tone of personal hurt, but
the tone of disappointed and thwarted love. Because of their unbelief He knew
that they could not receive what He desired to give them. We find Him more than
once in His life hemmed in, hindered of His purpose— simply because there was
nobody with a heart open to receive the rich treasure He was ready to pour out.
Here I would remark, too, before I go to another point, that these two elements-l
that of personal sorrow and that of disappointed love and baulked purposes— con-
tinue still, and are represented as in some measure felt by Him now. It was to
disciples that He said, •« O faithless generation 1 " He did not mean to charge
them with the entire absence of all confidence, but He did mean to declare that
their poor, feeble faith, such as it was, was not worth naming in comparison with
the abounding mass of their unbelief. There was one light spark in them, and
there was also a great heap of green wood that had not caught the flame, and only
smoked instead of blazing. And so He said to them, *♦ O faithless generation 1 "
Do not we know that the purer our love, and the more it has purified us, the more
sensitive it becomes, even while the less suspicious it becomes? Is not the purest,
most unselfish, highest love, that in which the least failure in response is felt most
painfully t Though there be no anger, and no change in the love, still there is a
pang where there is an inadequate perception, or an unworthy reception, of it.
And Scripture seems to countenance the belief that Divine Love, too, may know
something, in some mysterious fashion, like that feeling, when it warns us, ♦• Grieve
not the Holy Spirit of God, whereby ye are sealed unto the day of redemption."
So we may venture to say. Grieve not the Christ of God, who redeems us ; and
remember that we grieve Him most when we will not let Hun pour His love upon
ns, but turn a sullen, unresponsive unbelief towards His pleading grace, as some
glacier shuts out the sunshine from the mountain-side with its thick-ribbed ice.
n. Another thought, which seems to me to be expressed in this wonderful exclama-
tion of our Lord's, is— that theib faithlessness bound Chbist to earth, and kept
Him here. As there is not anger, but only pain, so there is also, I think, not
exactly impatience, but a desire to depart, coupled with the feeling that He cannot
leave them till they have grown stronger in faith. And that feeling is increased by
the experience of their utter helplessness and shameful discomfiture during His
brief absence. That had shown that they were not fit to be trusted alone. He had ,
been away for a day up in the mountain there, and though they did not build an
altar to any golden calf, like their ancestors, when their leader was absent, still
when He comes back He finds things all gone wrong because of the few hours of
His absence. They were not ready for Him to leave them ; the full-grown tree was
not strong enough for the props to be removed. Again, here we get a glimpse into
the depth of Christ's patient forbearance. We might read these other words of
our text, " How long shall I suffer you ? " with such an intonation as to make them
almost a threat that the limits of forbearance would soon be reached, and that He
was not going to suffer them much longer. But I fail to catch the tone of indigna-
tion here. It sounds rather like a pledge that as long as they need forbearance they
will get it ; but at tne same time, a question of " How long that is to be ? " It
impUes the inexhaustible riches and resources of His patient mercy. There is
rebuke in His question, but how tender a rebuke it is 1 He rebukes without anger.
Plainly He names the fault. He shows distinctly His sorrow, and does not hide
the strain on His forbearance. That is His way of cure for His servants' faithless-
ness. It was His way on earth. It is His way in heaven. To us, too, comes the
loving rebuke of this question, •* How long shall I suffer you 7 '* Thank God that
car answer may be cast into the words of His own promise : " I say not unto thee,
antil seven times ; but until seventy times seven." Bear with me till thou hast
perfected me ; and then bear me to Thyself, that I may be with Thee for ever, and
grieve Thy love no more. So may it be, for with Him is plenteous redemption, and
His forbearing " mercy endureth for ever." (A. Maclaren, D.D.)
23
354 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. ▼in.
Ver. 23. If thou canst believe, all tilings are possible to Mm that belleveth. —
Omnipotence of faith : — I. The nature of faith. " Taking God at His Word," is
perhaps one of the best definitions ever given. The truths connected with salva-
tion, which require to be cordially believed, may be stated in the following manner.
1. That all have sinned. 2. I am a guilty sinner, and exposed to the just punish-
ment of sin. 3. That Jesus having died for all, is the Saviour of all that truly
believe on Him. II. The provisions for faith. You are authorized to believe.
God has made rich provision that you might believe. That you cannot believe in
Christ without being saved is evident — 1. From the character of God. 2. From
the Word of God. 3. From the assurance God has given to attest His word. 4.
From the promises of God. 5. From the covenant of God (Heb. vi. 13, 18). 6.
From the experience of His people in all ages. III. The exercise of faith.
Includes — 1. Attention to the great objects of faith. 2. Knowledge (Matt. xiii. 16 ;
Acts xxvii. 27). 3. Eeason. 4 Memory (1 Cor. xv. 1, 4). 5. The affections. 6.
The will — the determined exercise of the affections, aided by the imderstanding.
What shall hinder the exercise of faith? Answer objections. IV. The mighty
POWER of faith. Examples — Abraham, three Hebrew children, Daniel, the man
with the withered hand, the dying thief, &c. 1. Let every impenitent sinner
believe that he is on the very brink of ruin, &c. 2. Let every penitent believe the
record God has given of His Son, and apply it to himself. 3. Let every child of God
in distress, &c., " trust, not be afraid." 4. Let the Christian who is seeking full
salvation, believe, " The blood of Jesus Christ His Son, cleanseth from all sin."
Be it unto thee according to thy faith. Believe now. Continue to believe. {A.
Weston.) I. All real goodness is to be attained by the exercise op faith in
Christ. This implies the absence of (1) distrust ; (2) presumption ; (3) indiffer-
ence. II. Faith must always be limited by the promises of God. IH. Faith
must have reference to the particular blessing sought. We must therefore be
well versed in (1) the particular promises God has given, and in (2) the method in
which God bestows them. {B. Noel.) All things possible to faith: — I. You will
OBSERVE THE EXPRESSION, " If thou canst bclievo I " — not, if thou dost believe; — " If
thou canst believe." Cannot, then, everyone believe? Is or is not a man respon-
sible for the character of his faith, and its degree? I want to examine that a little
carefully. I lay down two broad first principles. Every man — at least, every
man who has not, by his own wilfulness, destroyed it — every man who has not
made himself lower than a man, and so lost the position of our common humanity
— every man has some faith. And secondly, every man who uses the faith he has,
will increase its power, and acquire more. If you deny either of those two premises,
I do not see how a man can be brought in accountable for his faith. But admit
them, and observe what follows. Can every one, at every moment, believe every
thing which he ought to believe ? I think not ; I think not at any moment. But
then, had that man lived altogether as he ought to have lived, then he would, at
that moment, have been able to believe a great deal more than he can believe now.
The faith would have been in a stronger and clearer exercise. Probably, he would
have been able to believe everything which at that particular time he was called
upon to believe. And now, if that man will be true to his convictions, his faith
will be sure to rise up to the level of believing what at that time he is unable to
believe. For faith is progressive : faith must go to school, as patience must, or
holiness must. Our Lord's words imply attainment — the difficulty of the attainment
— and they sympathize with the dilficulty of the attainment. But the power of
believing is a moral thing, which a man holds in his own hands. We all know
indeed, that there cannot be a believing thought, nor one true conception, or any
spiritual thing, without the inworking of the Holy Ghost. But then, the Holy
Ghost is always inworking. All that is contingent is our reception of the Holy
Ghost. II. The outside boundary-link of the province of faith, pboperly so
CALLED, IB PROMISES. Faith is laying hold : I do not say of what God is, for God may
be and is much which we cannot understand enough even to believe — but it is
laying hold of what God has covenanted Himself to us — what God is to His
people. The promises are what God is to His Church — therefore faith confines
itself to promises. III. I must not, and I need not, stop now, to show that within
THAT CIRCUMFEBENCS, THE RANGE OF God'S UNDERTAKINGS FOB UB, 18 LEFT ENOUGH,
BECAUSE IT 18 LKFT STILL iNFiNiTB. But how to get this faith ? What is the road
to it r First, be sure that you are living a good, moral life. Secondly, do God'a
will, whatever, in yoar conscience, you feel God's will is. Thirdly, cherish oonvie-
fcions, and obey the ** still small voices." Fourth, act out the faith yon haye, an4
CHAP. IX.] ST. MARK. 355
let it be a constant prayer, " More faith, Lord ; more faith." Fifth, go np and
down among the promises, and be conversant with the character and the attributes
of God. Sixth, wrestle with some one promise in spirit every day, till you get it.
Seventh, take large, loving views of Jesus, make experiments of His love, — and
always sit and wait, with an open heart, to take in aU that He most assuredly waits
to give. {J. Vaughan, M.A.) Faith omnipotent: — I. Some of the achievements of
VAiTH. 1. We will consider faith in its relationship to guilt. 2. Let us also
observe faith in the midst of those constant attacks of which the heir of heaven
is the subject. 3. The obtaining of eminence in grace. 4. The power of faith
in the- service of God. II. Where lies, then, the secret strength of faith ?
It lies in the food it feeds on ; for faith studies what the promise is — an emanation
of Divine grace, an overflowing of the great heart of God, Faith thinketh who gave
this promise. She remembereth why the promise was given. She also considers the
amazing work of Christ. She then looks back upon the past. She remembers that
God never has failed her. (C. H. Spurgeon. ) The power of faith : — Faith is not only
a grace of itself, but is steward and purveyor of all other graces, and its office is to make
provision for them, while they are working ; and therefore as a man's faith grows
either stronger or weaker, so his work goes on more or less vigorously. There is no
grace, nor supply, nor mercy, laid up in the Lord Jesus Christ, but it is all in the hands
of a believer's faith ; and he may take from thence whatsoever he needs, to supply
the present wants and necessities of his soul. {Bishop Hopkins.) The sphere of
/aith^s power : — The expression does not mean, in this connection, " It is possible
for the believer to do all things," but " It is possible for the believer to get all
things." Omnipotence is, in a sense, at his disposal. But the univereality of
things contemplated by our Lord was not, as the nature of the case makes evident,
the most absolute conceivable. We must descend in thought to the limited univer-
sality of things that would be of benefit to the believer. We must, indeed, descend
Btill farther. We must consider the benefit of the believer not absolutely, or
unconditionally, but relatively to his circumstances, thus relatively to the circum-
stances of the other beings with whom he is connected. With these limitations —
inherent in the nature of the case — " all things " are possible for him that
believeth. But why only for him that believeth? Because faith in the fact of
Christ's Divine power or authority, or, at all events, in the propitiousness which is
involved in that fact, is, in the nature of things, absolutely necessary to the enjoy-
ment of the highest spiritual blessings. By making it a pre-requisite for the
obtaining of material blessings, Christ made His visible life a parable of high
invisible realities, and flashed light on the inner by the reflective power of the
cater. It was the perfection of symbolism. {J, Morisan^ D.D,)
Ver. 24. Lord, I believe ; help Thou my xaiXteliet— Faith unto salvation : — This
incident will show as what believing presupposes and consists in. I. The text
shows A MAN that IS IN EARNEST. He cricd out with tears. They were tears that
told how his heart was moved. II. We look at this man, and we find that there
is more than a general earnestness about him. We see the tokens of a special and
active desire to have the blessings which faith was to secure for him. So he who
is awakened to flee from the wrath to come. 1. He seeks forgiveness. Sin is not
a light thing in his eyes. 2. He longs for healing of the disease of his soul. 3. To
say all in a word, his desire is set upon salvation. IIL The operation of this
desire. It is an active desire. 1. It makes a man pray and cry to God. It is a time
of felt need. 2. It may cast into an agony, which may evince itself in tears.
There is a melting power in strong desires that agitate the soul. 3. The desire for
salvation will cause you to seek for faith. We are justified by faith ; no holiness
without it. 4. There will be an effort to believe. It is not God that believes ; we
have to believe. He would not command you to believe, if it were idle for you to
try. IV. He feels his need of grace for the exercise of faith — '* Help mine
unbelief." My own resources are not sufficient for it. A true sense of the need of
grace to believe is a great step towards the act of believing. V. The man betakes
himself to Christ. I need grace and I look to Thee for it. So is it with all those
that are about to believe. •• Thou hast destroyed thyself, but in Me is thy help."
The fulness of Christ is unlimited, VL The man has a distinct conception of
THE GRAND OBSTACLE WHICH GRACE MUST REMOVE — " Unbelief." Why is it that
unbelief has so great an ascendancy f Because it possesses the heart. YII. Ws
FIND THAT THE MAN DOES BELIEVE — '* Lord, I belie ve." ** I must believe" is the
first step. The next, '• I can beHeve." The third, " I will believe." The last
866 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. (cha».
Btep, "I do believe." {Andrew Gray,) Worki of faith .'—V^e have often heard
of George Miiller, of BristoL There stands, in the form of those magnificent
orphan houses, full of orphans, supported without committees, without secretaries,
supported only by that man's prayer and faith, there stands in solid brick and
mortar, a testimony to the fact that God hears prayer. But, do you know that Mr.
Miiller's case is but one among many. Remember the work of Francke at Halle.
Look at the Rough House just out of Hamburg, where Dr. Wicbem, commencing
with a few reprobate boys of Hamburg, only waiting upon God's help and
goodness, has now a whole village full of boys and girls, reclaimed and saved, and
is sending out on the right hand and on the left, brethren to occupy posts of useful-
ness in every land. Remember the brother Gossner, of Berlin, and how mightily
God has helped him to send out not less than two hundred missionaries throughout
the length and the breadth of the earth, preaching Christ, while he has for their
support nothing but the bare promise of God, and the faith which has learned to
reach the hand of God, and take from it all it needs. (C. H. Spurgeon.) ^ Dealing
directly with God : — Pastor Harms, in Hermannsburg, desired to send missionaries
to the Gallas tribe in Africa, and in his life he is reported to have said : Then I
knocked diligently on the dear Lord in prayer ; and since the praying man dare
not sit with his bands in his lap, I sought among the shipping agents, but came to
no speed ; and I turned to Bishop Gobat in Jerusalem, but had no answer ; and then
I wrote to the Missionary Krapf, in Mornbaz, but the letter was lost. Then one
of the sailors who remained said, " Why not build a ship, and you can send out M
many and as often as you will." The proposal was good ; but, the money 1 That
was a time of great conflict, and I wTestled with God. For no one encouraged me,
btit the reverse ; and even the truest friends and brethren hinted that I was not
quite in my senses. When Duke George of Saxony lay on his death-bed, and
was yet in doubt to whom he should flee with his soul, whether to the Lord Christ
and His dear merits, or to the pope and his good works, there spoke a trusty
courtier to him : " Your grace, straight forward makes the best runner." That word
has lain fast in my soul. I had knocked at men's doors and found them shut ;
and yet the plan was manifestly good, and for the glory of God. What was to be
done? *» Straight forward makes the best nmner." I prayed fervently to the
Lord, laid the matter in His hand, and as I rose up at mi^ight from my knees, I
said, with a voice that almost startled me in the quiet room, ** forward now in God's
name 1 " From that moment there never came a thought of doubt into my mind I
Weak faith clinging to a mighty object:— -There was once a good woman who was
well known among her circle for her simple faith, and her great calmness in the
midst of many trials. Another woman, living at a distance, hearing of her,
said, "I must go and see that woman, and learn the secret of her holy,
happy life." She went ; and accosting the woman, said, •• Are you the woman
with the great faith ? " •' No," replied she, " I am not the woman with the
great faith ; but I am the woman with a little faith in the great God." (Milman,)
Lord, I believe ; help Thou mine unbelief: — I. Faith may be weak and partial in a
REAL BELiBVER. Howcvcr much some persons may talk of our religious faith being
the result of inquiry and evidence, and depending solely on the power of the intellect,
or on its feebleness, we know well that passion and prejudice, not only in religious
matters, but in all other matters where our interests or our passions are involved,
have a powerful influence on the formation of our opinions ; and wherever prejudice
or excited passion exists, a much stronger degree of evidence is required to fix our
belief of a thing, than were our minds perfectly calm. So in religion. II. To
BECOME STEONO IN FAITH, WE MUST PERSEVERE IN PRAYER. Increase of faith does not
come by argument or evidence, but by direct influence on the heart, sweeping
away prejudice and calming the impetuous passions. He who gave can alone
increase our faith. Let us ask of Him who is so willing to bestow. (B. Noel.)
The balance and the preponderance : — L It was so with the suppliant of this text.
There was in him this co-existence op faith and credulity. It was not so much
a suspended or a divided feeling, as of one who was postponing the great decision,
or in whom some third thing, neither belief nor disbehef , was shaping itself ; as
we hear now of persons who can accept this and that in Jesus Christ, but who also
refuse this and that, so that they come to have a religion of their own, of which Ht
is one ingredient, but not the one or principal one. This man's state was not one
of mixture or compromise ; it was the conflict of two definite antagonists — faith and
unbelief — competing within. He was not a half- believer. He was a believer and
an unbeliever, in one mind. The •• father" of this story saw before him a Person
ORAF. n.] ST. MARK. 85)
who was evidently man, and yet to whom he was applying for the exercise of Deity.
Brethren, il we can succeed in making the condition clear, there is a great lesson
and moral in it. Many men in this age, like the well-known Indian teacher,
are framing for themselves, without for a moment intending to be anything
bnt Christians at last, a Christianity with the supernatural left out of it —
miracle, prophecy, incarnation, resurrection, the God-man Himself, ehminated;
and it is much to be feared that this kind of compromise is likely to be the Chris-
tianity of the educated Englishman in so much of the twentieth century as the
world may be spared to live through. It will be a Christianity very rational, very
intelligent, certainly very intelligible. But it will have parted with much that has
made our Christianity a discipline; it will have got rid of that combination of
opposite but not contrary and certainly not contradictory elements, which has been
the trial yet also the triumph of the Divine Revelation which has transformed, by
training and schooling, mind, heart, and soul. It will have done with that charac-
teristic feature of the old gospel which made men suffer in living it ; which made
a man kneel before Jesus Christ as a Saviour to be wondered at as well as adored,
with the prayer on his hps, "Lord, I believe — help Thou mine unbelief." II.
There is a second thing to be noticed in the condition of this suppUant. He was
one who knew and felt that, in all matters, whether of opinion or of practice, ths
SOUND MIND ACTS UPON A PRiNCiPLK OF PREPONDERANCE. He believed and he dis-
beheved. He did not conceal from himself the difficulties of beheving ; the many
things that might be urged against it. He was not one of those rash and fanatical
people, who, having jumped or rushed to a certain conclusion, are incapable of
estimating or even recognizing an argument against it — who bring to their delibera-
tions upon matters of everlasting importance minds thoroughly made up, and count
all men first fools, and then knaves, who differ from them. No ; the father of this
demoniac boy saw two sides of this anxious question, and could not pretend to call
its decision indisputable, whichever way it might go. He himself believed and
disbelieved. But he was aware that, as nothing in the realm of thought and action
is literally self-evident— nothing so certain, that to taka into account its alternative
would be idiotcy or madness — a man who must have an opinion one way or the
other, a man who must act one way or the other, is bound, as a reasonable being, to
think and to act on the preponderance, *♦ if the scale do turn but in the estimation
of a hair," of one alternative over the other. This man was obliged to form an
opinion, in order that he might accordingly shape his conduct, on the mighty
question. What was he to think of Christ ? But he had a more personal, or at
least a more urgent, motive still. In the agony of a tortured and possessed
home, he could lose no chance presented to him of obtaining help and deliver-
ance. If Jesus of Nazareth was what he heard of Him there was help, there
was healing, in Him. The father's heart beat warmly in his bosom, and it
would have been unnatural, it would have been imfeeling, it would have been
impossible, to leave such a chance untried. Action was required, and before
action opinion. Therefore he only asked himself one question. Which way for
me, which way at this moment, does the balance of probability incUne ? There
is on the one side the known virtue, the proved wisdom, the experienced benevo-
lence, the attested power — so much on the side of faith. There is on the other
side the possibility of deception, the absence of a parallel, the antecedent impro-
bability of an incarnation. III. There is yet one more thought in the text, which
must be just recognized before we conclude. This father tested truth by pravino.
He was not satisfied with saying, "I believe and I disbelieve." It was not enough
for him even to carry his divided state to Christ, and say, **Lord, I believe and I
disbelieve." No ; he turned the conflict into direct prayer — " Lord, I believe — help
Thou mine unbelief I " Many persons imagine that, until they have full and
uiidoubting faith, they have no right and no power to pray. Yet here again the
principle dwelt upon has a just application. If faith preponderates in you but by
the weight of one grain over unbelief, that small or smallest preponderance binds
you, not only to an opinion of believing, and not only to a life of obeying, but also,
and quite definitely, to a habit of praying. Faith brings unbelief with it to the
throne of grace, and prays for help against it to Him whom, on the balance and on
the preponderance, it thinks to be Divine. "Lord, I believe — help Thou mine
unbelief." It is the prayer for the man who is formulating his faith, and has not
yet arranged or modelled it to his satisfaction. It is the prayer for the man who is
shaping his life, and has not yet exactly adjusted the principles which shall guide
it. It is the prayer for the man in great trouble— who cannot see the chastening
358 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap, ul
for the afflicting— who feels the blow so severe that he cannot yet discern the
Father's hand dealing it. {Dean Vaughan.) The only help for unbelief:—!, Th»
NECESSITY OF A FULL BEUEr IN THE Savioue. 1. It is nscessary as the foundation
of all our Christian privileges and blessings. Our Lord continually laid it down aa
the condition of bestowing His favour ; His apostles insisted upon the same holy
doctrine. 2. It is clear in the very nature of things : we can do nothing of our-
selves, by any independent effort, for our own salvation ; we are estranged from
God without the means of reconciliation. II. Oub natural inability to attain
THAT BELIEF, AND THE METHOD BY WHICH IT IS CEBTAINLT ATTAINABLE. If It required
nothing more than the assent of the understanding, it would be clearly within
own reach ; it implies a disposition to receive all the doctrines of revealed truth,
a submission to the law and love of God. It is idle to beseech of God a living
faith, when we have no intention to imbibe those principles, to form that character,
which a true faith implies. Look at the case of this man : there were no earthly
prejudices which he resolved to keep ; no earthly hindrances which he desired to
set up; all he wanted was further light in his understanding, and a complete
conviction in his heart ; hence he honestly prayed his prayer to Him, in whose hand
was the bestowal of these blessings. III. The effect and triumph of it, when
ATTAINED. It is the only means by which the enemies of our peace can be
vanquished, and we prepared for our crown of rejoicing (1 John v. 4). (J, Slade,
M.A.) The spirit of faith amid uncertainties: — Let us take comfort in thia
wonderful saying. Never fear; whatever thoughts may from time to time move
through the listening spirit. Deal firmly and bravely with your intellectual and
spiritual tempters ; repel them ; cast yourself on God. Assert, in terms, the
principle of faith. Say, " I believe." Thus, at length, all shall be well. For the
hour is at hand when doubt shall end for ever, and when the Eternal Truth shall
stand out clear before our eyes. Doubt and uncertainty belong to this life ; at the
end of the world they will sink to long burial, while the world also sinks away, and
then we shall see all things plainly in the " deep dawn beyond the tomb." In this
dim life we see spiritual things imperfectly, yet ever draw we on to full, clear
knowledge. Even so, a man might be led, step by step, through darkness, till he
came out and stood on a narrow line of sandy beach hemming the border of the
immeasurable deep, whose depth and majesty were hidden from his eyes by the
cold veil of fog. But once let the winds arise and blow, and the dull, grey
curtain, swaying awhile, shall be gathered into folds, and as a vesture shall it be
laid aside ; while, where it hung, now rolls the sea, clear, smooth, and vast, each
wave reflecting the sunbeam in many-twinkling laughter ; the broad surface sweep-
ing back, to where the far horizon hue is drawn across, firm and straight from one
side of the world to the other. Faith sees already what we are to see for ourselves
by-and-by, when God's time is come. And, meanwhile, though we be here, on this
narrow border of the world beyond, and though we cannot see far, and though the
fog do sometimes chill, yet let us be men and shake ourselves, and move about ;
yea, let us build a fire as best we may on the wild shore, to keep off the cold and
to keep us all in heart ; and let us believe and trust, where we can neither see nor
prove, and let us encourage one another and call to God. (Morgan Dix, D.D.)
The struggle and victory of faith : — I. Faith and unbeuef are often found in the
SAME heart. The picture which Milton gives of Eve sleeping in the garden is true
•* of us all. There is the toad-like spirit whispering evil dreams into the heart, and
the angel is standing by to keep watch on the tempter. So the two worlds of faith
and unbelief are close to the soul of man. When he is in the dark, gleams from
the light will shoot in as if to allure him ; and when he is in the light, vapours
from the dark will roll in to perplex and tempt him. H. Whenever faith and
unbelief meet in an earnest heart there will be war. The question raised by
faith and unbelief presses on the whole nature, and will not be silenced until settled
one way or the other. IH. We can tell how the war will go, by the bide a
man's heart takes. When a ship is making for the harbour, there is a set in the
tide which may carry it straight for the entrance, or to the treacherous quicksands,
or to the boiling surf. Such a set of the tide there is in a man's own heart. It
is acted on by his will, therefore he is responsible for it. A man cannot use_ his
will directly, so as to cause himself to believe or not to believe, but he can use it in
" those things which accompany salvation." We cannot reverse the tide, but we
can employ the sails and helm, so as to act upon it. Let us seek to have (1) A
sense of revereuce proportioned to the momentous character of the issue at stake.
The weight of thp soul must be felt if we are to decide rightly on its intereatfc
nt.] ST. MARK. 359
(2) A sense of need : a care for the sonl, leading ns to look ont, and np, and cry for
help. (3) A sense of sinfulness, a conviotion of the gulf between what we should
be and what we are. The way to God begins in what is most profound in our own
souls, and when we have been led by God's own hand to make discoveries of our
weakness and want and sin, it is not doubtful how the war will go. lY. Thk way
TO DB soBE OF THE VICTORY OF FAITH IS TO cAiiL IK Chbist's HELP. Full deliverance
from doubt and sin is only to be procured by personal contact with the Saviour's
person and life. So long as we turn our back on Him, we are toward darkness ;
as soon as we look to Him, we are lightened. If there are any who have lost their
faith, or fear they are losing it, while they deplore the loss, let them cry toward
that quarter of the heavens where they once felt as if light were shining for them,
and an answer will in due time come. Christ is there, whether they see Him or
not ; and He will hear their prayer, though it has a sore battle with doubt. This
short prayer of a doubting heart comes far down like the Lord Jesus Himself,
stretches out a hand of help to the feeblest, and secures at last an answer to all
other prayers. If men will use it truly, it will give power to the faint, and to them
that have no might it will increase strength, till it issues in the full confidence of
perfect faith. {John Ker, D.D.) This act of his, in putting forth his faith to
believe as he could, was the way to believe as he would. {John Trapp.) Faith
and unbelief: — Take these words as — I. The voice of one seeking salvation.
Give Christ your whole confidence. Don't lose time in excuses, or lamentations,
or in seeking fuller conviction. Cast yourself at once on the Bock of Ages — " Lord,
I believe." But you say, "I seem to slip off the Rock again." Well, that is
surely a sign that you are on, if you are afraid of slipping otf. Then add, " Help
Thou mine unbelief," i.e., " Hold me on the Rock ; do Thou keep me from rolling
off." No man is quite a stranger to the Lord, or an utter unbeliever, who with
tears entreats Christ to put away his unbelief. II. The voice op the Chbistian in
SOAIB anguish of SPIRIT. In adversity, when your faith is slipping away, bow
before Jesus, saying — " Lord, I believe ; I cling to Thee ; I hang on Thee. Though
He slay me, yet will I trust in Him." What did I say ? Who am I, to utter such
mighty words of confidence ? And yet, at such an hour, I take them not back ; but
with tears I haste to add, *• Lord, help Thou mine unbelief." III. The words of
the believer in view of duty, or of some holy PRIVILEGE. IV. Thb voice of the
WHOLE Church on earth, anxious for the salvation of her children. (D. Fraser,
D.D.) Mine unbelief: — Unbelief is an alarming and criminal thing; for it ^
doubts — (1) The power of Omnipotence; (2) the value of the promise of God;
(3) the efi&cacy of Christ's biood; (4) the prevalence of His plea; (5) the
almightiness of the Spirit; (6) the truth of the gospel. In fact, unbelief robs
God of His glory in every way ; and therefore it cannot receive a blessing from the
Lord (Heb. xi. 6). (C. H. Spurgeon.) The strife of faith and doubt in the soul : —
This was the cry of a soul in distress; it was a frank, honest exclamation,
showing what was in the man ; it was spoken to God. It was a cry of agony : the
agony of hope, of love, of fear, all pouring out and upward, trembling and expecting :
the cry of a solitary soul indeed, yet, substantially, a cry from all humanity
summed up together. Nor did it meet rebuke ; no fault was found with it ; but in
the granting of the prayer, assent and approval were implied ; assent to the descrip-
tion, acceptance of the state of mind it disclosed. L Doubt and faith can co-bxist
IN THB HEART, AND ACTUALLY DO. Natural to believB ; we cannot but cling to God ;
cannot live without Him. Yet natural to doubt ; because we are fallen ; the mind ^
is disordered, Uke the body : Divine truth is not yet made known to us in fulness. •
So it follows that the mere existence of doubts in intellect or heart is not sinful,
nor need it disquiet the faithful. The sin begins where the responsibility begins,
via., in the exercise of the will. II. The will has power to choose between thb
TWO. This is the sheet-anchor of moral and intellectual Ufe. No man need be
passive, or is compelled to be all his life long subject to bondage under the spirit
of doubt. The will can control and shape the thoughts, throwing its weight en one
side or the other when the battle rages in the soul. Because it can do this, we
are responsible for the strength or weakness of our faith. IH. If we choose to
BELIEVB, God will help. Lift thy poor hand upward, and another Hand is coming
through the darkness to meet it. {Morgan Dix, D.D.) Lord, I believe ; fielp 1 nou
mine unbelief: — If a man can say this sincerely, he need never be discouraged ; let
him hope in the Lord. Little grace can trust in Christ, and great grace can do no
more. God brings not a pair of scales to weigh our graces, and if they be too light
refuseth them ; but he brings a touchstone to try them ; and if they be pure gold.
380 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [ohaf. »
though never bo little of it, it will pass corrent with Him ; though it be bnt smoke,
not flame — though it be but as a wick in the socket — likelier to die and go out
than continue, which we use to throw away ; yet He will not quench it, but accept
it. (Anon.) We give a beggar an alms (says Manton), " though he receives it
with a trembling palsied hand ; and if he lets it fall, we let him stoop for it." So
doth the Lord give even to our weak faith, and in His great tenderness permits as
afterward to enjoy what at first we could not grasp. The trembling hand is part
of the poor beggar's distress, and the weakness of our faith is a part of our spiritual
poverty; therefore it moves the Divine compassion, and is an argument with
heavenly pity. As a sin, unbelief grieves the Spirit ; but, as a weakness, mourned
and confessed, it secures His help. "Lord, I believe," is a confession of faith
which loses none of its acceptablenesa when it is followed by the prayer, " help
Thou mine unbelief." (C. H. Spurgeon.) Weakness of faith no sin : — A friend
complained to Gotthold of the weakness of his faith, and the distress this gave him.
Gotthold pointed to a vine, which had twined itself round a pole, and was hanging
loaded with beautiful clusters, and said, " Frail is that plant; but what harm is
done to it by its frailty, especially as the Creator has been pleased to make it what
it is? As little will it prejudice your faith that it is weak, provided only it be
sincere and unfeigned. Faith is the work of God, and He bestows it in such
measure as He wills and judges right. Let the measure of it which He has given
you be deemed sufficient by you. Take for pole and prop the cross of the Savioor
and the Word of God ; twine around these with all the power which God vouchsafes.
A heart sensible of its weakness, and prostrating itself continually at the feet of
the Divine mercy, is more acceptable than that which presumes upon the strength
of its faith, and falls into false security and pride." Weak faith may he effectual ;—
The act of faith is to apply Christ to the soul ; and this the weakest faith can do
as well as the strongest, if it be true. A child can hold a staff as well, though not
so strongly, as a man. The prisoner through a hole sees the sun, though not ai
perfectly as they in the open air. They that saw the brazen serpent, though a
great way off, yet were healed. The poor man's " I believe," saved him ; though
he was fain to add, •♦ Lord, help mine unbelief." So that we may say of faith, as
the poet did of death, that it m:^es lords and slaves, apostles and common persons,
all alike acceptable to God, if they have it. (r. Adams.) Prayer is the cure for
unbelief: — One said to me, " I have not the faculty of belief or faith in God, or in
' a book-revelation." Answer : " Have you prayed with your whole heart and
strength— as for dear life— for light and faith ? " He said, " I cannot ; for a man
who does that already half believes." Answer: " No ; for a man might be rescued
from a shipwreck, and be watching the attempt to save that which was dearest to
him — dearer than life— which had been swept from his side : putting aside conscious
prayer, his whole being, his very heart and soul would go out into the wish and
the hope that his treasure might be saved : yet it would not involve any belief that
the rescue would be accomplished. Many a time an agony like that has been
followed by the bringing in of the lifeless body. But after a true heart-agony of
prayer for light, no lifeless soul has ever been brought in. {Vita.) Faith without
comfort : — The soul's grasp of Jesus saves even when it does not comfort. If we
touch the hem of His garment we are healed of our deadly disease, though our
heart may still be full of trembling. We may be in consternation, but we cannot
be under condemnation if we have believed in Jesus. Safety is one thing, and
assurance of it is another. (C7. H. Spurgeon.) Faith without assurance : — As a
man falling into a river espieth a bough of a tree, and catches at it with all his
might, and as soon as he hath fast hold of it he is safe, though troubles and fears
do not presently vanish out of his mind; so the soul, espying Christ as the only
means to save him, and reaching out the hand to Him, is safe, though it be not
presently quieted and pacified. (T. Manton.) Faith only in Ood : — He did not
believe in the disciples ; he had once trusted in them and failed. He did not believe
in himself ; he knew his own impotence to drive out the evil spirit from his child :
He believed no longer in any medicines or men ; but he believed the man of the
shining countenance who had just come down from the mountain. {C. H. Spurgeon.)
Faith under difficulty : — Happy is the man who can not only believe when the
waves softly ripple to the music of peace, but continues to trust in Him who if
almighty to save when the hurricane is let loose in its fury, and the Atlantie
breakers follow each other, eager to swallow up the barque of the mariner. Surely
Christ Jesus is fit to be believed at all times, for like the pole star. He abides in Hit
faithfulness, let storms rage as they may. (Ibid.) Faith's dawn and its clouds :—
X.] 8T. MARK, 361
I. Thxbb is tbub vaith. It was faith in the Person of Christ. It was faith
about the matter in hand. It was faith which triumphed oyer difficulties, (a)
Case of long standing. (6) Considered to be hopeless, (c) Disciples had failed.
{d) The ohOd was at that moment passing through a horrible stage of pain and
misery. II. Tkbbs is qbbvious unbelief. Many true believers are tried with
unbelief because they have a sense of their past sins. Some stagger through a
consciousness of their present feebleness. Others are made to shiver with unbelief
on account of fears for the future. The freeness and greatness of God's mercy
sometimes excites unbelief. A sacred desire to be right produces it in some. It
may also arise through a most proper reverence for Christ, and a high esteem
for all that belongs to Him. III. The conflict between the two. He regards it
as a sin and confesses it. He prays against it. He looks to the right Person for
deliverance. {Ibid.) Feeble faith appealing to a strong Saviour : — I. The sus-
pected difficulty. The father may have thought it lay with the disciples. He
probably thought the case itself was well-nigh hopeless. He half hinted that the
difficulty might lie with the Master. "If Thou." II. The tearful discovery.
Jesus cast the "if" back upon the father — then — 1. His little faith discovered his
unbelief. 2. This unbelief alarmed him. 3. It was now, not "help my child,"
but " help my unbelief." III. The intelligent appeal. He bases the appeal upon
faith — "I believe." He mingles with it confession — "help my unbelief." He
appeals to One who is able to help — " Lord." To One who is Himself the remedy
for unbelief — ♦* Thou." (Ibid.) Unbelief : — ^Nothing is so provoking to God as
onbelief, and yet there is nothing to which we are more prone. He has spoken to
as in His Word ; He has spoken plainly ; He has repeated His promises again
And again ; He has confirmed them all by the blood of His own dear Son ; and yet
we do not believe Him. Is not this provoking ? What would provoke a master
like a servant refusing to believe him ? Or, what would provoke a father like a
child refusing to believe him ? The man of honour feels himself insulted if his
professed friend refuses to believe his solemn protestation ; and yet this is the way
in which we daily treat our God. He says: "Confess, and I will pardon you."
But we doubt it. He says: "Gall upon Me, and I will deliver you." But we
doubt it. He says : " I will supply all your needs." But we doubt it. He says :
" I will never leave thee nor forsake thee." But who has not questioned it? Let
OS seriously think of His own words : " He that believeth not God hath made Him
a liar"; and His question, "How long will this people provoke Me?" Lord,
forgive, and preserve us from it in future. {James Smith,)
Vers. 28, 29. But toyprayw and fasting'. — Fa«ttn^;— -** Whyeoold not we oast
him out? " — " because of your unbeUef." *'A11 things are possible to him that
beUeveth." But how is such faith to be attained ? It is God's gift. God gives by
means — by means of prayer. Whatever tends to increase the fervour of prayer
tends to increase the energy of faith. Fasting also has this effect. In the Christian
way are many hindrances ; arising both from the agency of fallen spirits, and from
the inveteracy of besetting sins. It appears from this narrative, that some spirits
are more difficult to oast out of men than others — " this kind ; " and it is certain,
as a matter of fact, that some sins are more tenacious, more stubborn ; and that
(or their expulsion, a more active and energetic exercise of faith is required, than
for the subduing of other sins. " This kind goeth not forth but by prayer and
fasting. " He will conclude, therefore, that these things were intended to strengthen
faith — that by these means he should assail his unbelief, in order that by changing
his unbelief into faith, he may get rid of this cleaving stain that distresses his soul.
He will therefore be exceedingly anxious to ascertain what " fasting " means. He
ascertains what "prayer" is — public, private, social; he will be as anxious to
ascertain with the same distinctness what " fasting " means ; to see what in his
particular case it means. I suppose the case of a man, whose tendency before he
was converted was to luxurious ^peding. This is not confined to the rich, as is
oommonly supposed, who can afford to multiply varieties and pamper their appetites.
It is found in all classes, though variously indulged. There is a sort of animal
delight which men take in their food, and even in the anticipation of their food.
There are men, not a few, who dine more than once a day, by indulging an eager,
fleshly avidity in anticipation ; and when the reality comes, they yield themselves
to reddess animal excitement, even without any check of reason ; and they persevere
nntil animal repletion demands a pause. It is descriptive of such, and it is not too
mooh to say, that instead of eating to live, they seem to hve to eat Now this is a
362 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. ix.
disease. We suppose a man of this description converted. By his conversion th»
disease is not then and there — at one stroke — eradicated ; but a counteracting power
is supplied to him. This counteracting power is to be brought to bear on this
disease ; and certainly this is a case in which the action of this counteracting power
might well take the direction of abstinence from food. Here he would directly
mortify the deed of the old body ; for that was its tendency, that was its snare, thai
was its disease. But now I suppose the case of another sort of man. There are
such people in this world as misers. I do not refer to that love of money, which,
in a greater or less degree, is common to every man — but tJPS'drsease, a sort of
mania, an idolatry for the hoarded heap. There are some men who so idolize their
savings, that they absolutely deny themselves the common necessaries of daily
animal support. Now suppose such a man converted ; this disease is not entirely
cured by his conversion ; but a counteracting power is supplied to him. And how
is it to be exercised? How is that man to fast? To abstain from food? No ; he
has been doing that already, in the service of his idol. That is a part of his disease.
What, then, in this ease, would occupy the scriptural place of fasting ? Let him
take from the store ; let him draw out the pound, or the hundred, from the fostered
heap ; let him take his check book, and order something to clothe the naked and
feed the hungry. That would be fasting. " Is not this the fast that I have chosen f
saith the Lord ; to clothe the naked and to feed the hungry ? " Now, suppose
another case, of a man or a woman of a highly imaginative turn of mind, and of ft
romantic tone of affection. She has indulged in reading works of fiction; so that
all her imaginations are drawn o£E from the realities of life, and engaged in the
luxuries of fictitious scenes of pleasure or of pain. What is fasting, in her casef
Not abstaining from food. What then? Putting away her novels, burning her
romances, and turning to the practical walks of life ; ♦• drawing out her soul to the
hungry ; " instead of weeping, in the luxury of ease, in her armchair, over a fancied
sick person, to visit a real sick person, and carry something with her ; go to the
stem reality of cellars and garrets, instead of luxuriating over the pages of a novel.
This is a fast, in her case ; aud by this, she will help her prayers, and increase her
faith, and so advance in overcoming the besetting sin. These illustrations will, I
hope, help to show you the true scriptural nature of this duty, varying with various
cases because of the object in view. We are called "by the spirit to mortify the
deeds of the body," not to mortify the body. This is the mistake that has been
made. We are nowhere called on to mortify the body for the sake of the mortifi-
cation, but to mortify the deeds of the body for the sake of the sanctification. And
then, what is the object of our Church in such fasting? That you will learn by her
collect for the first Sunday in Lent. '♦ Give us grace to use such abstinence, that
our flesh being subdued to the spirit, we may ever obey Thy godly motions, in
righteousness and true holiness, to Thy honour and glory, who livest and reignest
with the Father and the Holy Ghost, one God, world without end." The object is
sanctification. (JET. McNeile, M.A.) Prayer and fasting: — Staying at Hastings
a few months since I was much interested in watching the building of a breakwater
just opposite my lodgings. It was done by driving massive piles of wood into the
shingle. They were driven by a huge mass of metal being let fall upon them from
a great height. True, the blows were not very quick one upon another, for it took
some time to raise the weight to the necessary elevation ; but when it did fall it
accomplished something. Now suppose an on-looker had suggested that time was
being wasted in hauhng the herculean hammer up, and had offered to tap the iron-
bound pile with a child's spade, saying he could give a hundred taps to the one
blow, what would have been thought of his suggestion ? It would have been laughed
to scorn, and he would have been told that one of their blows would do more than
a whole century of his tapping ; that there was no waste of time in raising the iron
thunderbolt, for the power of its blow was in proportion to the height from whi< h
it fell. So, believer, your power and mine to affect men is in exact proportion to
the elevation of our soul-life, and this elevation can only be obtained by secret
communion with God, and abstinence from all that panders to the flesh and hindei-s
the spirit's fellowship. Oh for a higher ambition to be made meet for the Master's
use ; a more intense longing for that secret power with God in private, that shall
make us more than conquerors over hell in public. {A. Q, Brown.) Union of
faith and prayer : — I am thankful that these words concerning prayer have stood
the ordeal of the late Eevision. One seems to crave a reference to prayer after a
lesson on the importance of faith. Prayer seems to be the voice by which faith
must express itself ; it is almost, or even quite, impossible to conceive of faitk
CHAP. IX.3 ST. MARK.
coming into action except in connection with and bj means of the utterance of
prayer. {Bishop Harvey Goodwin.)
Vera. 80-32. And they departed thence, and passed through Oalilee.—C^mf
teaching His disciples : — I. Hs explained to them His Present state. He was
about to be delivered by a traitorous disciple, &c. II. He told them the parties
INTO WHOSE POWER Hb HAD BEEN GIVEN. 1. To be delivered into the hands of men,
is to be put into their power — to do to Him, and with Him, as they chose. 2. They
could have this power only by special permission — from the Father, and Himself.
3. It is marvellous that He should have been so delivered, God in humanity I It
brought out their desperate wickedness, proved the voluntariness of His obedience,
showed how blind sin is in its supposed triumphs, &c. III. He told them what
MUST BEFALL HiM AT THE HANDS OF MEN. 1. That Christ was to die, was not now
foretold for the first time, predicted, &c. 2. This death of Christ was necessary, &c.
IV. He FURTHER REVEALED TO THEM THE FUTURE, BY TELLINQ THEM OF HiS RESUR-
RECTION. The result of an agency, neither human nor satanic, but Divine ; pro-
phecy, &o., called for it. Conclusion : 1. Christ had His sufferings ever in view
(Luke xii. 50 ; John xii. 27). 2. In His sufferings and resurrection He saw His
people. 8. He unveiled the future to His disciples. They were contending for
honour— on the brink of sufferings — understood not the warning of Christ {Ex-
pository Discourses.) The complete truth : — About this announcement there are
two things remarkable — Christ's care in preparing His disciples for the cross, and
the confidence with which Christ affirms His own resurrection. To have spoken of
the betrayal alone, would have been to have put before His disciples a fragmentary
truth ; over the darkness of death Christ sheds the light of resurrection. The
revelation of Christ's purposes can occasion grief only when it is incompletely
apprehended ; sorrow attaches to some of the intermediate points, but never to the
issue ; " the Lamb slain " is a part of the process ; the Lamb slain, but seated in
the midst of the throne, is the sublime consummation. {J. Parker, D.D.) The
utility of truth not understood : — It is not to no purpose, to speak things that are
not immediately xmderstood. Seed, though it lies in the ground awhile unseen, is
not lost or thrown away, but will bring forth fruit. If you confine your teacher,
you hinder your learning ; if you limit his discourses to your present apprehensions,
how shall he raise your understandings ? If he accommodate all things to your
present weakness, you will never be the wiser, than you are now ; you wiU be always
in swaddling clothes. {Dr. Whichcote.) Understood not : — When I was a little
girl I had a sovereign given to me. If it had been a shilling I might have put it in
my own little purse, and spent it at once ; but, being a sovereign, my dear father
took care of it for me, and I expect I forgot all about it. But one day when I was
quite grown up, he called me into his study and gave me the sovereign, reminding
me how it had been given me when I was about as high as the back of a chair.
And I was very glad to have it then, for I understood how much it was worth, and
knew very well what to do with it. Now, when you come to some saying of the
Lord Jesus that you do not understand or see how to make any use of yourself, do
not think it of no consequence whether you read it or not. When you are older you
will find that it is just like my sovereign, coming back to you when you want it and
are able to make use of it {Frances Ridley Havergal.)
Ver. 83-37. What was It that ye disputed among yourselves by the way T — The
true child our pattern : — What is the true child like ? L He is unconscious o»
HIMSELF ; self -dissection or analysis is unknown to him. II. Ha lives in thb
PRESENT. 1. He never worries or is anxious about the future ; sufficient to the
day, for him, is the evil thereof. 2. So also, though always aspiring, he is never
discontented in the ungrateful or peevish sense ; sufficient likewise for the day is
the good thereof ; he would not have it otherwise. III. His pleasures are simple,
pure, natural, fresh from the hand of God. The least of His gifts, even a cup of
cold water, has value in his eyes, so that he wastes not wilfully. IV. He looks
FORWARD WITH BOUNDLESS HOPE TO A GREATER, MORE COMPLETE LIFE {i.e., tO be
*• grown up"). V. He knows not how to sneer or be cynical: but instinctively
shrinks from a sneer as from a blow or a sting. VI. His aversions and dreads arb
TRUE AND SYMBOLICAL (uutil, hko his tastcs and likings, made artificial by example
and training). E.g. — (1) Darkness and all that is black ; (2) bitterness, sourness,
all that is acrid or sickening ; (3) all that wounds and kills. VIL His obkdiencb
IS KOT RELUCTAKT, BUT VAITHFUL. VIU. HiS HEART RESPONDS TO XHB TOUCH OV
364 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [OTA*, ix,
TBUTH, if honestly and faithfully appealed to. (Ft to.) The lesson of humility : —
Children are patterns of humility in these respects. 1. They are not bo pn£Eed np
as older people with conceit of themselves, or of their own good parts and gifts ;
they do not think the better of themselves because they possess these advantages,
nor do they boast of them. 2. They do not disdain or despise others, but think
as well of them as of themselves, even if inferiors. 8. They are not ambitious in
seeking after vain -glory. 4. They are not given to strife and contention, but are
of a quiet and peaceable disposition. 6. They do not envy the good fortune of
others, but rejoice in each other's prosperity. 6. They are tractable to admonition
and reproof, ready to submit to it, and easily reclaimed from a fault. {O. Fetter.)
Lesson against pride: — I. The humility and trustfulness of children should be
preserved by men. II. They who have most power should render most service.
in. They who descend most in love will rise most in honour. IV. God is served
by obedience to Christ, and Christ by kindness to the least and lowest who belong
to Him. {J. H, Godwin.) Disciples disputing: — I. Those whosb conduct is
BEFOBE us ABB THE FOLLOWERS OF CHRIST. Externally, really and spiritually ; hence,
this spectacle is one within the bosom of the Church. II. They disputed amono
THEMSELVES BY THE WAY. How fitly did the College of Apostles foreshadow the
state of the Church in after ages. III. The cause of disagreement amono them —
«• Who should be the greatest." Worldly ambition was the root of bitterness. The
secret of most of the contentions of seeming Christians. lY. Christ did not
INTEBFBBB TO PREVENT THESE CONTENDINGS. V. ChRIST, THOUGH He SUFFERED THEM
TO END THEIR CONTEST, CALLED THEM TO ACCOUNT. Divisious are most offensive to
Him. He will call the sowers of division to account. VI. To the inquiry or
Christ as to the grounds of their disputb, they madb at first no answer.
VIL Christ takes advantage of what had occurred, in order to inculcate trb
DUTY AND RECOMMEND THE GRACE OF HUMILITY. Bewarc of disputes, Bud therefore
of pride. Cultivate true Christian greatness— Christ's example. {Expository
Discourse*,) ^mftttron ;— I. What is it ? II. Proof that it is evil. Ul. Means
OF CUBE. I. Ambition is to be distinguishbd fbom thb desire of excellence.
II. That ambition ib evil in its nature, and therefore degrading in its
influence, is evident. 1. Because it is inconsistent with our relation to God
as creatures. 2. It is inconsistent with our relation to God as sinners. 3. Because
Christ always reproved this desire of pre-eminence. 4. This trait of character did
not belong to Christ. 6, We always approve of the opposite temper whenever we
see it manifested. 6. It is inconsistent with our being governed by right motives and
affections. III. Means of cube. 1. Cultivating a sense of our insignificance and
unworthiness. 2. Having our hearts filled with Christ. 3. By constantly refusing to
yield to this evil desire ; refusing to cherish it or to obey its dictates. By uniformly
avoiding to seek the honour which comes from men. {Chas. Hodge^ DJ).) Who
i» the greatest : — ^I. The wobld's opinion. The world's great men are nsually great
conquerors, or great philosophers, poets, Ac. Many of them small men, viewed in
their moral relations. Alexander wept for another world to conquer. " Greater is
he that ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a city." See the world's great ones
described (Matt. xx. 25, 26). Haman was one such, yet a very little man. It is
said there are three classes of great men. 1. Those who are bom great.
2. Those who have greatness thrust upon them. 8. Those who achieve
greatness. The world sees no greatness in lowliness. II. The disciples' wish.
Eveu they wished to be great. Not, indeed, after the world's fashion, but each
one wanted to be above the rest. Each one might think he deserved to be first,
or had qualities that fitted him for pre-eminence. III. The Master's lesson. Note-
1. The kindness of His manner. " Speak the truth in love." 2. The simplicity
and clearness of illustration. Might have argued, bat took a little child in
His arms. 3. The nature of the lesson. Goodness is greatness. Learn : 1. Not
to be deceived by the world's notionB of greatness. 2. Not to give place to
ambitious desires. 8. To aim after goodness, and let the greatness follow if it
may. (<7. C Qray.) A child for a text: — I. Let as begin with the mistake
sometimes made, which will certainly need correction. Our Lord does not
teach by any implication that children are sinless little creatures. 1. For the
argument and illustration of the discourse He gave are all against such a supposi-
tion. According to the authorized version, Christ says that thejr are ** lost," that
the Son of Man needed to come to ** save " them, and without the will of the
Father they would "perish" (Matt, xviii. 11-14). 2. The story oflerB no proof
•f any innooenoe even in the child He chose. Ecclesiastical tradition, not rsliabiU*,
ix.] ST. MARK. 365
states that this boy became afterwards the martyr Ignatius, and was in the
enbseqaent persecntions thrown to the wild beasts at Borne. That is the best
which could be said of him, and we do not know even so much to be true. Surely,
he was never offered as a model child, and we do not suppose he was born unlike
others. II. So now let us inquire what is thb true spiritual doctbinb of thb
PASSAGE. It is evident that our Lord was rebuking His disciples for a foolish
dispute they had had " by the way." And he did this by commending to them a
child-like disposition. 1. A child is remarkable for his considerateness of others.
It is the hardest thing we ever try to do to teach our children to be aristocratic
and keep up *' style." They are instinctive in their fondness for what is agreeably
human. It was asked of the good Cecil's daughter what made everybody love her ?
She thought a moment with a curious sort of surprise, then answered with her own
kind of logic, "Because I love everybody." 2. A child is remarkable for his
obedience to rightful authority. His subjection is instinctive as his charity is. He
accepts the parental will as law. So his fidelity is spontaneous ; he does not
recognize any merit in it. He does the exact thing he was set to do. When the
young girl in the class heard the teacher say, " How is the will of God done in
heaven ? " she answered, •* It is done without anybody's asking any questions."
3. A child is remarkable for his contentment in the home circle. There is only
one mother in the world, and where that mother is, there is home. Disturb him,
wound him, frighten him, maltreat him, and his earliest wish is, " Please let me go
home." 4. A child is remarkable for his persistency of trust. Children are the
most logical creatures in the world. A lady asked the small daughter of the
missionary Judson, "Were you not afraid to journey so far over the ocean?"
And the reply was, •* Why, no, madam: father prayed for us when we started I "
Do a boy a real kindness, and nothing on earth can keep him from insisting to all
the others that you are a kind man. Help him once, and he will keep coming with
a pathetic sort of confidence that you like to help him. For one, having stumbled
around a good deal in this muddle of a world, in which nobody seems to stick to
anything, I am ready to say I know nothing more beautiful than the sweet forgive-
ness, and renewal of confidence, which a child shows when, having met a rebuff
once and been turned away, it sits wondering and waiting, as if sure you would
come round by and by and be good again. UI. Thus, now, having studied the real
meaning of this incident, let us try to find out rrs practical sEABiNa. 1. In the
first place, consider how it would modify our estimates of human greatness. Here
is the point at which our Lord meant His instruction should be felt earliest. These
disciples had been contending about pre-eminence. Perhaps Peter began the
jealous dispute, reminding them that he kept the house where Jesus was enter-
tained. Perhaps John asked him to remember the place Jesus usually gave him at
the table. Perhaps Andrew suggested that Simon might as well bear in mind that
he had led him to Jesus down in Bethabara. Perhaps Matthew hushed them
imperiously, declaring that none of them were business men as he had been. And
perhaps James insisted that age and experience had some rights in the reckoning
of precedence. Thus they worked themselves up into a passion. All this
petulance was met by the spectacle of a tranquil little boy, who possibly wondered
how he came to be put into show : and while they were looking curiously at him,
Jesus said, calmly : " Whosoever therefore shall humble himseli as this Httle child,
the same is greatest in the kingdom of heaven." 2. Next, let as consider how this
teaching would modify our aims for attainment. We need more of this child-spirit
in our hearts. Does any one ask how it may be attained ? In the old fable which
the Hebrews used to teach their children about the fallen angels, they said that the
angels of knowledge, proud and wilful, were cast down hopelessly into hell ; but the
angels of love, humble and tearful, crept back once more into the blessed light, and
were welcomed home. 8. Again, let us consider how these words of Christ would
modify our intellectual processes of study. Yes : but the Bible says do this thing
like a child. Study with your faith rather than your intellect. A man needs
conversion, not conviction. Our Lord here reverses human terms of counsel. We
say to a child, " Be a man," but Jesus says to a man, '♦ Be a child." That is the
way to enter the kingdom. 4. Once more : let us consider how this doctrine will
modify our formulas of belief. There is something for the great divines to learn
also. Do we never force our theories beyond the confines of the gospel t A child's
theology is frequently wiser for real human need than a man's. It often comes to
pass that when a mature intellect has been worrying itself into most discouraging
confusion, it it startled by the keen penetration and almost oracular deliverance of
566 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chaf. vl
an infant tmst. Ask one of our young girls, " What is God ? " Perhaps she will
give answer, ♦• God is a Spirit, infinite, eternal, and unchangeable in His being,
wisdom, power, holiness, justice, goodness, and truth." And perhaps she wiU
reply, " God is my father in heaven." For all availableness to deep experience oi
need, some of us think that, little as this seems to say, really it says more than
the other does. Faith cannot climb up on the north side of a doctrine in the
shade. She took her notion out of the prayer, and not out of the catechism ; that
is all. These great formulas ought to be explained in the very warmth and light
of the figures and relationships of the gospel. 5. Let us consider likf^wise how
Christ's teaching would modify our advice to inquirers. Some of those who claim
to be honest seekers after truth completely invert the order of relation between
belief and duty. Much of the difficulty they profess to find in the gospel ia
irrelevant in the matter of obligation, and entirely illogical in the matter of faith.
Any sensible child is aware that its father's relationship by marriage, social stand-
ing in the community, form of daily occupation, political influence in the party, or
citizenship by naturalization, has nothing to do with the question of its own
obedience to his just commands. To reckon how much money he owes or owns,
does not come before minding what he says. But inquirers will often insist on
having tie Trinity made clear, before they will take up repentance. They say they
are stumbled about praying, because they cannot understand the Incarnation. Now
the child-spirit knows that taking the yoke comes even before learning of Christ
(see Matt. xi. 29). Jesus says. Do My will (John vii. 17). 6. Finally, let us
consider how this teaching will modify our tests of experience in grace. It is only
a strange perversity which makes us seem to prefer the more subtle evidences of a
change of heart. Here a plain test is proposed. The last result, the positively
completed picture, of regeneration, is found, in a child's temper and disposition.
Any one ought to know whether he possesses that or not. He can find out. His
life will answer his questions, when possibly he cannot exactly find out about
so mysterious a thing as his heart. Nobody is going to be excluded from heaven
because he cannot find out his election or his regeneration, if he is holy, and truly
believes in Christ, "as this little child." {C. S. Robinson, D.D.) The desire to
be first : — If any man desire to be first, the same shall be last (v. 35). There is no
way in which men are surer to outwit themselves than in looking out for themselves
over everybody else. The poorest servant in the world is the one who always puts
himself before his employer. The poorest place to buy anything is where the
dealer never regards the interest of his customers. He is less than nothing as a
friend who gives his friend the second place in his plans and coarse. No politician
can be a leader while it appears that he cares only for his own advancement, and
nothing for the voters. What would a soldier be worth whose aim was to look out
for his own safety and comfort in times of service and battle ? And if this principle
be applicable in other fields, how much more does it apply to Christian service !
He who is intent on what he can gain out of his religion, will be behind the poorest
servant of Christ who is a servant in truth as well as in name. Self-seeking is self-
destroying in the kingdom of God. {H. Clay Trumbull.) In My name : — This
means, for My sake, and it includes (1) because they belong to Christian parents ;
(2) because they partake of the nature which Christ took upon Him ; (3) because
they belong to the race which Christ redeemed ; (4) because, like Christ, they are
poor ; (5) because Christ may be honoured in their after-life. Such children are
received in Christ's Name, not only in orphanages or in Sunday schools, but by
many of the Christ-loving poor, who have children of their own, and yet taie into
their homes some poor waif or stray, and cherish it as their own flesh and blood,
for no reward except the Lord's approval. {M. F. Sadler.) Receiveth Me : — The
grace of this promise seems almost incredible. What an honour would any
Christian have esteemed it, if he had been permitted to receive Christ under his
roof for a single hour, and yet that receiving might have been external and
transitory ; but the Lord here undoubtedly promises that to receive a little one in
His Name is to receive Him effectually. (Ibid,)
Vers. 8S-40. And we forbade him. — Chrittian toleration:—!. That powxb to
DO OOOn IB NOT MONOPOLIZED BY ONB CLASS OF BELIEVXB8 Of GhBIST. We Oan OUfy
conjecture, bat there is strong reason for supposing, as many have done, that thu
man who was encountered in his work by our Lord's disciples, was a disciple of
John Baptist. It is not unlikely t at he may have been but partially enlightenad
tm to the mission of our Lord ; or have fully believed in Him as the Messiah, Irat
CHAP, vni.] ST, MARK. »67
have preferred an independent conrse of action for himself. We have seen, and wfe
see to-day, similar deeds of helpful charity being performed by men not of our party,
who do not worship at the church or chapel which we are accustomed to attend.
The essentials of a good deed are alike in both oases. These neighbours of ours
are engaged in casting out the demons of ignorance, vicious habits, vile passions,
and despairing poverty. Some of them have confronted difficulties which we have
not dared to face, and solved problems which we had pronounced impossible of solu-
tion. All Christian parties and all Christian men can bear testimony to the uni-
versal existence of this fact. II. Wk bbmabk that the conduct of the disciples
18 not sinoulab fob its intolebangb. The clannish feeling was very strong amongst
these men. There is something really good at the bottom of this feeling. It implies
and involves a binding principle of fealty, which is one of the truest feelings of
noble natures. But unless it is checked in some of its tendencies, and regulated by
judicious reflections, it becomes exclusive and illiberal. We can hardly imagine
the meek, gentle, and tender-spirited John joining in the exclusive conduct of this
severe proceeding. It is difficult to conceive of the censure which he could pass
upon a man who was doing good. But the meekest men become severe where privi-
leges of a certain order are concerned. III. We obsebve the tolebant spibit op
Chbist. " Forbid him not ! ** Let him alone ; leave him to his work I " Forbid
him not ! *' for two reasons : first, because " there is no man which shall do a
miracle in My name that can lightly (or ♦ easily,* • quickly,' readily ') speak evil of
Me." Secondly, " He that is not against ns is on our part." He that cannot
speak against me may be regarded as my friend. In a matter like this the absence
of opposition may be accepted as a proof of support. Tacit approval of our work
mast be welcomed as next in importance, if no more, to definite co-operation. Do
we not wait for men to join our ranks before we acknowledge them as followers of
Christ ? We have devoted too much of the energy and earnestness of our life to
the little matters that absorb as as denominations rather than to the grander and
mightier subjects that concern ns as Christians. Between as and those from whom
we stand aloof there may exist no real barrier to a happy and hearty recognition of
our common interest in the same dear and blessed Lord. Everything which tends
to rend away the veil that separates the follower of Jesns Christ from his brother
is to be hailed with devout and fervent gratitude, and every spirit should yearn to
join the prayer of that great heart while yet npon the earth, ** Thai they all may be
one." IW. Dorling.) The line of conduct toe should adopt Urwardg those who follow
not with us: — I would remark — I. That it becomes us oabefullt to obsebve
THEIB 8ENTIMXNT8, PBOFESSIONS, OHABACTEBS, AND OONDUOT. ** They follow not
with OS ; " therefore, says one, they must be wrong. Let them alone, says another.
We have sufficient to do to mind our own concerns, repHes a third. Am I my
brother's keeper ? observes a fourth. Truth and charity require that we should
ascertain the sentiments and practices of those who follow not with us, before we
forbid them ; and that we should ascertain those sentiments from authorized and
acknowledged statements and records, as far as we can obtain access to them. II.
Such inqnires naturally lead to a second remark ; namely, that where we have not
opportnnity of thus precisely ascertaining the sentiments and conduct of those who
follow not with us ; and where it is necessary, notwithstanding, to give some advice
with respect to them, that advice should be given in as favoubable a vanneb as
the OXBCUMSTANCES with which we ABE ACQUAINTED WILL ALLOW. They folloW UOt
with as ; but are they casting oat Satan in the name of Christ ? — They follow not
with as. Now, we are convinced of being right, and this affords a legitimate pre-
sumption that those who differ from us are in some respects wrong ; bat, at the
same time, it is not a necessary conclusion. The presumption, therefore, of crimi-
nality being disposed of, the next inquiry is. Do they cast out Satan in the name of
Christ ? or, in plainer terms, Are they, on Christian principles, endeavouring to
diminish the sum of crime and misery — to promote the cause of peace and purity,
to lead men from sin to holiness ? and if so, the answer must be—" Forbid them
not." Observe — It must be in the name of Christ. Men come continually with
this and that ingenioas device and philosophical contrivance ; the cant of liberalism,
the yirtaes of universal suffrage, the abolition of the poor laws — this panacea for all
that is wrong, and the patent for the production of all that is right. I say not, there
is nothing in these things ; I say not that politicians and legislators may not do well
to oonsider such topics ; but, as a Christian man and a Christian minister, I say All
these are mere trifles. The ph osopher may say— With this machine, and this
■tanding-pUoe, I will move the world. True, says his opponent ; in Uie longeet
358 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap. ix.
Bpaoe of hnman life ^on will moye the world Bome thoasandth part of an inch — and
what then ? Saoh is the whole valne of the labonrs of manj. It must be in the
name of Christ, the dignity of His character, the power, the mercy, the atonement,
the intercession, the grace of Christ. All other means, brethren, of casting out
devils, of overcoming sin, of producing holiness, are utterly in vain ; the evil spirit
will return. He will say — Jesus I know, and Paul I know — but who are ye ? Even
moral precepts, moral suasion, the terrors of the law, the solemnities of death, the
eternal consequences of judgment, are found ineffectual to break the bondage of
iniquity. (T. Webster, M.A.) The degrees of Christianity : — I. The deorbb ow
SKRVICB. "He that is not against us is on our part." That man of whom St.
John tells us in our text that he had oast out devils in Jesus's name, was mightily
stimulated by the appearance of Jesus and His wonderful works. He was no dis-
ciple, for how could he else have taken his own way, if in his heart he truly be-
longed to Jesus. His heart was far from Jesus, but his understanding perceived
the importance of Jesns, and he believed in the power of His name which he had
often experienced. Thus he was a servant, though not a child, of God ; in Jesus's
service, but not in His commission. The name of Jesus exercises an overwhelming
authority even upon those who in heart are far from Him, even on the things of
natural human life, law, science, art, &c. These are not Christianized in the
proper sense of that word, and yet we call them Christian ; they are in the service
of the cause of Jesus. Christians ought not to disparage outward Christianity, or
call it hypocrisy ; it acknowledges the name of Christ and is serving His cause.
When the point in question is our adoption and salvation, then we must be for
Him. But he already serves Him who is not exactly against Bttm and His cause.
That is the first degree, the degree of serving His cause. But saving His believing
people has a higher value. *' Whosoever shall give you a cup of cold water," &o.
However, nobody has au eye for this hidden beauty, but he who in the spirit per-
ceives the beauty of Jesus, and nobody has a hearty love for the poor saints of Jesus
but he who in love has shut up the Lord Jesus in his heart. " For whosoever shall give
you a cup of water to drink in My name, because ye belong to Christ, verily I say
unto you, he shall not lose his reward." The Lord does not speak of friendly ser-
vices such as man renders to man from natural sympathy, but of the service
rendered to His disciples, and rendered to them because they are His disciples.
'* Whosoever shall give you a cup of water to drink in My name, because ye belong
to Christ." Such a serving of the saints is not without communion with Jesus in
faith and love. II. That is the other degree. The deobee of communion, of
COMMUNION of heabt. For communion of the heart with Jesus is that, and that
only, which constitutes the disciple of Jesus the Christian. My beloved brethren,
there are many things which we find and win in Jesus — wisdom, holiness, glory —
but what we have to seek in Him, in the first place, is the pardon of our sins ; what
we have to see in Him is the Lamb of God which takes away our sins. Then all
other things will be added to us ; that is the communion with Jesus, the following
of Jesus, as St. John narrates it of himself, for our example and stimulation. That
is his meaning when he tells Jesus of one " who folio weth not us." But that is not
all. That man of whom St. John speaks exercised an activity which had a certain
resemblance to the working of the apostles. Thus St. John did not only recognize
an imitation of Jesus Christ in faith and love, but also in good works, not only a
communion of the heart, but also of the life. He thought of this not less when he
spoke that word. And though we be no apostles, and though we are not all
ministers of the gospel, we yet have all a share in the one great work of helping to
build up and hasten the full glory of the kingdom of Christ. But our entering into
that communion of working with Jesus is only effected by prayer, by His prayer &iji
ours. In the communion of the love of the Father and the Son in the Holy Spirii
begins every prayer, and we carry it out in the words of our lips. That prayer
sends down upon us the fulness of the Spirit while our prayer plunges us into the
depth of the Divine spiritual life, that we may emerge from it filled with the powers
of a higher world. Therein the communion with Jesus Christ is finished. (C. L,
E, Lutliardt.) The fellowship of tlie apostles : — It is argued that fu the apostles
were not allowed to forbid this stranger, neither may the Church forbid strange
preachers ; that all have a right to preach, whether they follow the Church or no,
so that they do but preach in the name of Jesus. Such is the objection, and I pro-
pose now to consider it. 1. First, then, this man was not preaching ; he was
easting out devils. This is a great diiference — he was doing a miracle. *• There is
which shall do a miracle in My name," <&o. Man cannot overcome the
GHAP. n.] ST. MARE. 369
devil, Christ only overcomes him. U » mau oh^ab oat a devu, ue nas power from
Christ ; and if he has power from Christ, he must have a commission from Christ ;
and who shall forbid one, to whom God gives commission to do miracles, from doing
them f That would be fighting against God. But, on the other hand, many a man
may preach without being sent from God and having power from Him ; for Christ
expressly warns us against false prophets. 2. But it may be said, ♦• The effects of
preaching are a miracle. A good preacher converts persons ; he casts out devils
from the hearts of those whom he changes from sin to holiness. This he could not
do without power from God. But what seems good, is often not good. 3.
But, again, even if sinners are converted upon such a one's preaching, this would
not show that he did the work, or, at least, that he had more than a share in it.
The miracle might after all belong to the Church, not to him. They are but the
occasion of the miracle, not the instrument of it. Persons who take up with strange
preachers often grant that they gained their first impressions in the Church. To
proceed, (l) It should be observed, then, that if our Saviour says on this occasion,
" He that is not against us is on our part " ; yet elsewhere He says, " He that is
not with Me is against Me." The truth is, while a system is making way against
an existing state of things, help of any kind advances it ; but when it is established,
the same kind of professed help tells against it. It was at a time when there was
no church ; we have no warrant for saying that because men might work in Christ's
name, without following the apostles, before He had built up His Church, and had
made them the foundations of it, therefore such persons may do go lawfully since.
He did not set up BLis Church till after the resurrection. Accordingly, when the
Christians at Corinth went into parties, and set up forms of doctrine of their own,
St. Paul forbade them. •• What I " he said, " came the Word of God out from
yon ? " (1 Cor. xiv. 86). That Church made you what you are, as far as you are
Christian, and has a right to bid you follow her. And for what we know, the very
man in the text was one of St. John's disciples ; who might lawfully remain as he
was without joining the apostles till the apostles received the gift of the Holy
Ghost, then he was bound to join them. (2) And here, too, we have light thrown
upon an expression in the text, " In My name." Merely to use the name of Jesus
is not enough ; we must look for that name where He has lodged it. He has not
lodged it in the world at large, but in a secure dwelling-place, and we have that
name engraven on us only when we are in that dwelling-place (Exod. xxiii. 20, 21).
Thus the stranger in the text might use the name of Jesus without following the
apostles, because they had not yet had the name of Christ named upon them.
Nothing can be inferred from the text in favour of those who set up against the
Church, or who interfere with it. On the whole, then, I would say this ; when
strangers to the Church preach great Christian truths, and do not oppose the
Church, then, though we may not follow them, though we may not join them, yet
we are not allowed to forbid them ; but in proportion as they preach what is in itself
untrue, and do actively oppose God's great Ordinance, so far they are not like the man
whom our Lord told His apostles not to forbid. But in all cases, whether they preach
true doctrine or not, or whether they oppose us or not, so much we learn, viz., that we
must overcome them, not so much by refuting them, as by preaching the truth.
Let us be far more set upon alluring souls into the right way than on forbidding
them the wrong. Let us be like racers in a course, who do not impede, but try to
outstrip each other by love. {J. H. Newman, B.D.) Party spirit : — I. Attestd
TO A FEW GENERAL OBSERVATIONS ON THE PASSAGE. 1. On the introduction of a
new dispensation the power of working miracles was necessary, in order to establish
its Divine authority; and this power consequently attended the first ages of Chris-
tianity. 2. Some who profess a sacred regard for the name of Jesus, and the doc-
trines of the gospel, may nevertheless not follow Him in all things as we do. or as
they themselves ought to do. This may arise from ignorance, indolence, and inad-
vertence. 3. In the conduct of the disiciples we may see our own aptness to
imagine that those do not follow Christ at all who do not follow Him with us. IL
INQUIBE into the causes of that UNCHARITABIiE JUDGMENT, WHICH PROFESSED
Christians abb disposed to pass upon one another. 1. An immoderate degree
of self-love. 2. Bigotry and party spirit are another source of uncharitable judg-
ment, 8. An idle and pragmatic temper is another of these causes. 4. A liberty
taken to censuie and condemn others, is often vindicated by the appearance of a
similar disposition on the other side. Let us not judge of men's thoughts and
Intentions when there is nothing reprehensible in their conduct. (B. Beddonie, M^.)
The tgirit of intolerance and sectarianism : — ^Note the " us." Although no exegetioal
24
870 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap, k
emphasis is lying on it, jet it is well to read it with some doctrinal intonation. It
is the point at which the principle of ezclusiveness crops np — tbat spirit of intoler.
ance which so easily develops itself into fagot and fire. It was rife in the Jewish
nation. It had been rife among other peoples. And although it was nipped in the
bud by the Saviour the moment it sprang up among His disciples, yet by and by it
lose again within the circle of Christendom, and grew into a upas tree that spread
its branches, and distilled its blight, almost as far as the name of Christ was named.
The tree still stands, alas — though many a noble hatchet has been raised to cut it
down. It stands ; but the hatchets have not been plied in vain. It is moribund.
And here and there some of its larger boughs have been lopped off, so that the
sweet air of heaven is getting in upon hundreds of thousands of the more favoured
of those who were sitting in the shadow of death. (J. Marison^ D.D.) Working
with Christ outside the apostolate : — The complaint brought by the disciples against
the man was, " he followeth not us," — us, the apostles ; the complaint says nothing
about following Christ. There was a spirit of envy and selfishness in this remark,
which would have restrained Christ's favours to the persons of the apostles and their
immediate adherents. But our Lord reminds the complainants that the man
wrought miracles in their Master's name, as they themselves had owned ; <.«., he
wrought miracles in conformity to Christ's will, and for the promotion of Christ's
glory — i.e., in union with Christ — and not for any private end ; therefore the man
was with Christ, though he did not personally follow in the company of the apostles,
just as John Baptist was with Christ, though not in person ; and as all the apostles
preaching the gospel and administering the sacraments of Christ in Christ's name in
all parts of the world were with one another and with Christ, after He had ascended
into heaven. The man was not neuter in the cause, and therefore was not
against them ; and their Master had authorized him openly by enabling him to work
in His name ; and therefore the man was with Him, and consequently with His
apostles, in heart and spirit, though not in person and presence, and was not to be
forbidden or discouraged by them. Thus our Lord delivered a warning against that
sectarian spirit which is eager for its own ends rather than for Christ's ; and would
limit Christ's graces to personal communion with itself, instead of inquiring whether
those whom it would exclude from grace are not working in Christ's name — that is,
in obedience to His laws, and for the promotion of His glory ; and in the unity of
His Church, and in the full and free administration of His Word and Sacraments,
and so in communion with Him. Besides — even if the man was separated from
their communion, and worked miracles in separation (which does not appear to
have been the case, for he worked in the name of Christ), what they ought to have
forbidden was the being in separation, and not the working miracles. If a man,
separated from Christ and His Church, preaches Christ, then Christ approves Hia
own Word, preached by one in separation ; but He does not approve the separation
itself, any more than God approved the sins of Balaam, Saul, and Caiaphas, and
Judas, when He prophesied and preached by their mouths. {Bishop Christopher
Wordsworth.) Intolerance rebuked: — There lived in Berlin a shoemaker who had
a habit of speaking harshly and uncharitably of all his neighbours who did not
think quite as he did about religion. The old pastor of the parish in which the
shoemaker lived heard of this, and felt that he must try to teach him a lesson of
toleration. He did it in this way. Sending for the shoemaker one morning, he
said to him, "John, take my measure for a pair of boots." " With pleasure, your
reverence," replied the shoemaker, " please take off your boot." The clergyman
did BO, and the shoemaker measured his foot from toe to heei, and over the instep,
noted all down in his pocket-book ; and then prepared to leave the room. But, as
he was putting up the measure, the pastor said to him, " John, my son also requires
a pair of boots." " I will make them with pleasure, your reverence. Can I take the
young gentleman's measure this morning? " '* Oh, that is unnecessary," said the
pastor ; "the lad is fourteen, but you can make my boots and his from the same last."
" Your reverence, that will never do," said the shoemaker, with a smile of surprise.
" I tell you, John, to make my boots and those for my son, on the same last. "
*• No, your reverence, I cannot do it." " It must be done — on the same last, re-
member." " But, your reverence, it is not possible, if the boots are to fit," said the
shoemaker, thinking to himself that the old pastor's wits must be leaving him.
** Ah, then, master shoemaker," said the clergyman, " every pair of boots must be
made on their own last, if they are to fit, and yet you think that God is to form all
Christians exactly according to your own last, of the same measure and growth in
religion as yourself. That will not do, either." The shoemaker was abashed. Then
*JHAP. IX.] ST. MARK.
S71
he said, " I thank your reverence for this sermon, and I will try to rememher it, and
to judge my neighboura less harshly in the future.*'
Ver. 41. A cup of water to drink in My jmme.— The smnllMt gift and the large*t
reward :—l. IteE description which is here given of the disciples of Christ, is exceed-
mgly interesting and instructive. They «' belong " to Christ ; they are peculiarly
and emphatically His ; speaking of them, he calls them " My sheep," " My people,"
•' My disciples ; " and addressing His heavenly Father respecting them, He says,
" All Mine are Thine, and Thine are Mine ; and I am glorified in them." And the
Scnptures, which thus represent Christians as the property of Christ, teach us also
the way in which they become so entirely His. It is evident from Christ's own lan-
guage, that His disciples belong to Him primarily by the gift of His Father '• Thine
they were," says He, •• and Thou gavest them Me. My Father which gave them to
Me, 18 greater than all. All that the Father hath given to Me shall come to Me."
^d if they thug belong to Christ by His reception of them from the Father, and by
His redemption of them by His blood, they are also His by their own voluntary
dedication of themselves to Him, as the result of His electing and redeeming mercy.
II. Thi out which Jesus Christ asks on behalf of these His disciples, is a cup of
water. When we consider believers as belonging so peculiarly to Christ, we might
suppose that He would solicit for them the most costly and munificent donations
that the most wealthy could bestow ; but it is a remarkable and an interesting fact,
that He never either sought great things for Himself, or led His disciples to expect
great things from others. An impostor, or a mere enthusiast, would in all proba-
bihty have acted diflerently, and have said to his disciples, " Whosoever shall give
vou thousands of gold and silver ; whosoever shall exalt yon to worldly dignity and
honour ; and whosoever shall clothe you in purple and fine linen, and cause you to
fare sumptuously every day ; "—but His language was, " Whosoever shall give you a
cup of water to drink." And let not such a gift, small as it is, be despised. In our
circumstances, we are mercifully unable to estimate its worth ; but a man may be
brought into such a situation that even a cup of water would be the most valuable
and acceptable present that he could receive. When Samson had slain, single-
handed, a thousand of his Philistine foes, he cried unto the Lord and said, " I die
for thirst." But when a little water was procured, •' his spirit came again, and he
revived." The smallness of the gift which Christ solicits in our text, may, however
suitably admonish His disciples to be satisfied with little. III. Thb motfte by which
you should be influenced in the bestowment of this gift, seems to include both love
to Christ and to His disciples ; for, says He, " whosoever shall give you a cup of
water to drink in My name, and because ye belong to Christ." Such is the deceit-
fulness and desperate wickedness of the human heart, that an action productive of
good to others may be done merely for the purpose of thereby accomplishing some
selfish and unhallowed object, merely because they are following with you, and adher-
ing to the sect or party to which you belong. But, to return to the consideration of the
naotives by which our gifts are to be influenced— the greatest and the purest is love to
Christ. To Him we are laid under unspeakable obligations for the love with which Ke
loved us, when He died for our sins, and to secure the complete and eternal salvation
of our Boulg. Love to Christ cannot exist, however, without love to Christians, who
belong to Christ, and who bear His image ; «• for every one that loveth Him that
begat, loveth them also that are begotten of Him." IV. The reward by which the
bestower of this gift will be honoured and enriched is secured to him by the Saviour's
faithful promise, " Verily I say unto you, he shall not lose his reward." 1. He shall
be rewarded by the pleasurable feelings which the exercise of benevolence and kind-
ness to others never fails to produce. 2. He shall be rewarded with the prayers, and
blessings, and sympathy of the disciple on whom he has bestowed the gift. 3. He
ahaU be rewarded with the approbation and blessing of Christ Himself. (J. Alexander.)
A cup of water .-—There is something very economical about the generosity of
kindness ; ft little goes a long way. (Faber.) A right motive:— li ia 6&id th&i
when Andrew Fuller went into his native town to collect for the cause of missions,
one of his old acquaintances said, " Well, Andrew, I'll give five pounds, seeing it's
you.*' *• No," said Mr. Fuller, •' I can take nothing for this cause, seeing it's nu " :—
and handed the money back. The man felt reproved, but in a moment he said,
"Andrew, you are right. Here are ten pounds, seeing it is for the Lord Jesua
Christ" An act, a motive, and a reward: — Here is an act, a motive, and a
reward, calling for thought. As to the act, it is both suggestive and comprehensive.
A mmn may live without food for many days ; but h cannot exist without water for
ITS THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [caup. n.
the body's cooling and circulating fluids. So there is a moral life that is kept up by
the interchange of little acts ; the kind salutation, the smile, the " kiss of charity,**
the word " fitly spoken and in season," which cost nothing to the giver, but are
invaluable to the receiver. So the little acts of giving, the " mites ** of poor widows^
the full carrjing out of Paul's universal appointment, " let every one of you lay by
him in store as the Lord hath prospered him " — it is these gathered drops that
fill the exhaustless reservoirs of world-wide Christian charities. The motive, too,
like that which sees in a child the lineaments of an esteemed parent, that recog-
nizes iu the livery the servant of a liege-lord, it is this recognition of Christ in Hi»
disciple that at once honours the Master, and which permits Him to honour the
service. The reward, too, is in keeping with the act and its motive. The little
badge a prince bestows is more than a life-estate. To find true what Jesus declares
shortly after (Matt, xxv.), that the rewards of the final judgment turn on these
little acts and their motive, that Jesus will say of forgotten trifles, " Ye did it to
Me." the realization of this fact, so as to make it the rule of every-day life— this ia
to learn the lesson of giving a " cup of cold water " in the name of Christ. (G.
W. Samson, D.D.) Give in ChrisVs "name — humanity not ChHstianity : — " That
man has given more to the poor than any man in the town ; now that's what I call
being a noble Christian," is the remark that a friend made a few days ago. This
is also a sample of the opinion of quite a large class of people ; they hold that
because a man is benevolent he must naturally be a Christian ; but this does not
necessarily follow. A man may love the poor, sympathize with those in distress,
and in the fulness of his heart relieve the wants of the pauper, and yet not be a
Christian. He gives for humanity's sake, while the Christian gives only for Christ's
sake. Humanity must not be mistaken for Christianity. Many noted highway-
men have given largely to the poor out of what they robbed from the rich. Thai
tliey possessed humanity no one will doubt, but there was not a particle of Chris-
tianity about them. The virtue in humanity's gift lies in the amount given, but
the test in Christianity's gift lies in the amount that's left behind ; and while
humanity rejoices in having given so much, Christianity will weep because she has no
more to give. The gift for humanity's sake is good, but to give for Christ's sake ia
better. The Pharisee who ostentatiously cast in of his abundance pales into
insignificance before the poor widow who cast in her all. Says Christ : " For the
poor always ye have with you ; but Me ye have not always." Christ first, the
poor afterward. Had Mary given the money to the poor, she would have done weU,
but in that she gave it to Christ she did better. Had she given for humanity's
sake, three hundred souls would each have the temporal satisfaction of a penny-
worth of bread ; but in that she did it for Christ's sake millions have been cheered
and encouraged while reading of her devotion and tenderness of Christ. This i»
all expressed by Paul in a single sentence : " Though I bestow all my goods to feed
the poor . . . and have not charity, I am nothing." To feed the poor is humanity,
but charity is Christianity. Humanity is transitory and passes away. Christianity
ia eternal, and, like a river, is continually fed by countless tiny tributaries that,
however small and powerless in themselves, all combine to form one golden current
that flows into a tar more exceeding and eternal sea of glory. {Frank Hope.}
Wliose am I.-— "Ye belong to Christ." These thoughts are suggested by this
phrase. I. Proprietorship. There is a sense in which it may be said that all
men belong to Christ. 1. This claim to us is based primarily on His Creatorship.
2. All are His by redemption. 3. Baptism is a confirmation of all this. 4. But
believers belong to Christ in a more peculiar sense by an act of personal consecra-
tion. In the case of many this act of consecration has been repeatedly renewed.
5. Believers are Christ's by adoption. The soul surrendered aU its powers to-
Christ, and He graciously accepted the offering, and smiled upon the oblation,
n. To BELONG TO Christ IMPLIES PRiviLEOB. 1. Special care. 2. Identity
of interests. If I am Christ's my joys are His joys, my sorrows are His
Borrowa, (1) Things done against the saints, Christ regards as done against Himselt
(2) Things done for the saints Christ regards as done to Himself. The act of
doing pood to you will add to the felicity of the doer for ever. 3. Dignity. IIL
Belongiug to Christ involves Responsibility. 1. We are to live for Christ.
2. We are to live like Christ. 3. We are to confess Christ. (R. Roberts.) Be-
longing to Christ: — I. The connection which Christ claims with His pbopui.
1. They belong to Him by separation and surrender. 2. They possess some spiritual
worth. There are in Scripture some hints respecting the Divine estimate of men,
8. They are appointed to high and sacred ministries. 4. They engage the interest
sO ST, MARK. 87t
of Christ in their improvement. 6. They enjoy the hononr of spiritnal association.
II. Practical bdooestions from thb subject. 1. The difficulty of holding this
truth firmly is seen. 2. It should encourage consistency of Christian life. 8. It
invites us to consider the personal signs of connection with Christ. {J. S, Bright.)
Ver. 43. And if thy hand offend thee, cut it oS.-^Stamhling-hJockn :~After
stating the fearful punishment in store for those who impede the spiritual progress
of others, our Lord proceeds to warn men not to place stumbling-blocks in their
own way. He selects the chief instruments of sin — the hand, the foot, the eye^
and counsels their immediate destruction, if need be, rather than allow them to
work the threatened mischief. It is the hand which men lift up to do violence, as
Cain did to his brother ; or to appropriate what does not belong to them, like
A.chan. It is the feet which hurry us into forbidden paths, as they hurried Gehazi,
or the old man of God whom the lion slew for his transgression. It is the eye
which excites the lust to desire, in the spirit of Eve, something which God has
seen fit to withhold. To hurt, to trespass, and to covet : what a common triple
cord of sin it isl (H. M. Luckock, D.D.) The price of salvation: — The gentle-
ness of the gospel is not toward sm, but only to win from it. It is love that lays
down life for enemies, which makes these demands on friends. Jesus continually
pui before those who heard Him the price of salvation. It is a pearl, bought by
selling all we have ; the call which requires us to leave — hate in comparison —
houses, lands, and dearest friends. It brings a sword to divide, a cross for us to
bear. To lose a foot will make you walk slow and painful, to lose a hand will
halve your power for gain or usefulness, to lose an eye is darkness and disfigure-
ment. Precious are they, part of ourselves ; bloody and anguishing the cutting off
and plucking out. But it must be, it should be. Beckon it with our worldly
arithmetic, and eternal life is cheap at any price. A career, however marred and
maimed, which ends in heaven, is better than a painless and brilliant passage to the
tire that shall never be quenched. Are things most sweet and necessary occasions
of sin? Be rid of them at any cost. Spare not thyself, and God shall spare thee.
Cripple thyself for holiness' sake, and everlasting life shall make thee whole. Fling
away ecstatic delights to embrace purifying pains, for God has infinite stores of
blessings, and eternity in which to give them. It is a wondrous thing to know that
the pains and chastisements of this life are fitting us to bear the awful test of God's
devouring fire, that the light which flashes from the face of God shall strike our
souls, and the flames not kindle upon us. Compared with this, there are no joys,
no sorrows ; all other experiences get character from their power to affect this
consummation. {G. M, Southgate. ) Excision of offending members : — The hands,
the feet, the eyes, are set forth in God's Word as the instruments of the soul in
compassing the gratification of certain distinct evil lusts : the hand is the instru-
ment of covetous grasping and of violence; the feet are the means of evil
companionship, and running into the ways of temptation and sin ; through the
eyes the soul covets what is not her own, and lusts after what is forbidden and
polluting ; through the eyes also the soul envies and hates, and the Lord classes
" an evil eye " amongst the things that defile. But it may be asked, seeing that
the members are but the instruments of the evil will, why does not the Lord
denounce that, and that only? So He does when occasion serves; but in this
instance He is setting forth the all-important truth that the evil will is mortified
and slain, not by arguing with it, but by starving it ; i.e., by forbidding the mem-
bers to yield themselves to its gratification. When the Lord bids a soul, for the
sake of eternity, mortify its members, its outward members. He necessarily speaks
to one who has two wills, an evil will belonging to the old man, and a better and
holier belonging to the new. The evil will would gratify its lusts through its
members, but the better will can forbid the members to lend themselves to the
evil within, and can call to its aid the Spirit of God by prayer, and can mortify the
flesh, and use in faith the means of grace. {M. F. Sadler.) Personal maiming : —
There are many persons who are ready to cut off other people's offending hands
and feet, forgetting that the command is to cut off their own. At all costs save the
life I Hands, feet, eyes may be cast away, but let the soul be held in godly disci-
pline. {J. Parker, D.D.) Mortification of sin a reasonable duty: — ^I. The nun
HEBE ENJonnsn. " If thy hand or thy foot offend thee," Ac. To offend, in the
language of Scripture, frequently means to put anything in the way of a person,
which may cause him to fall or stumble (Rom. zii. 21 ; Matt. xi. 6, xvi. 23).
Even servicable things must be removed if an occasion of evil. II. Thb AROtnniiri
S74 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTBATOB. [chap. z&
BT WHICH He ENF0BCE8 IT. It is shortly this : that it is better for ns to do what He
enjoin!^. Why better t Becanse not to do it will certainly bring on us greater evila
hereafter. It is better to suffer a present evil, however great, than by avoiding it to
incur a gieater evil in the end. Thus men reason in common things. They endure
present loss in hope of future gain ; they lose a limb to save a life. To feel the force
of this argument we must see what these consequences are. 1. We shall be shut oat
from heaven. "It is better to enter into life maimed," Ac. Without mortifying
sin now we can never be admitted there (Gal. v. 21 ; Kev. xxi. 27 ; Heb. xii. 14). 2. What
it is to be cast into hell. 3. I remind you that if you seriously desire to set about the
work, there is a powerful Friend who is ready to assist you with all needful strength
aud health. It is only "through the Spirit '* that you can mortify the deeds of the
body. (£. Cooper.) Mutilation or fire : — The mutilation of the body ordered by
Jesus Christ. As Lord of the body He has the right to issue such requirements ;
common sense tells us that they cannot be meant to be without exception. His
" if " prefacing each instance is enough to prove that He does not make them
binding on everybody who enters His army. The soldier in the battle, having on
the whole armour of God, does not need to be told to mutilate himself. He is not
obi-tructed by wrongful occupation with any of the prominent members of his body.
I. A due consideration of the threefold repetition will show that all or vb abb
SOMEHOW AFFECTED. Jcsus mcaus to siuglc out evcry person who feels reluctant to
give his all up to Him as Lord and Saviour. II. That these orders caknot
REQUIRE MUTILATION OF THE BODILY FRAME. The hand, thc foot, End the eye are
nothing, except as they are the instruments of a person. What benefit could there
be in cutting oli, in plucking out, merely a member of the body ? He would be
utterly unfit to be a judge who sentenced the umbrella, which thrust out a man's
eye, to six months' imprisonment, and let the man who pushed the umbrella go
free ! He would be counted more idiotic than an idiot who found fault with the
door of the cellar down whose steps he had fallen, and not with the careless servant
who had left the door open. When you had cut off a hand, you might still wish
to do the unworthy action which your hand would have carried out. When you had
plucked out an eye, your imagination might still revel amid the unholy things
which the eye would have gloated on. III. The Lord backs up His appeal for our
energetic action with an exhibition of the awful law under which oub nature is
CONSTITUTED. The word, which is translated " hell-fire " is Gehenna. It was the
name given to a narrow valley close to Jerusalem. Offal and filth were usually
thrown into it, and fires were lighted in it to bum all the sorts of refuse which were
consumable. So the sinner is separated from the society of Jerusalem, and cast
into corruption ; he is exposed to burning now, and if not converted from the error
of his ways, wiU go into corruption and fijre hereafter. (D. O. Watt^ M.A.)
Desire sacrificed to duty : — Soldiers have dislodged their enemy from a town. They
scatter themselves about its streets; some dashing into shops, and some into
houses, seizing any valuable thing which the lust of their eyes prompts them to
seize. Suddenly their bugles sound an alarm. The enemy is returning in force ;
and, whatever else the sound may suggest, it suggests this — that they must throw
everything out of their hands, no matter how valuable, no matter how eagerly they
long to retain it. Otherwise it would be an obstruction ; they would not be free to
handle their rifles, and be driven out instead of driving their foe back again. With
like purpose does the Lord Jesus give forth those orders, which seem to many of us
BO unnecessarily harsh and stringent. {Ibid.) Hell-fire in the present life : — At
any rate multitudes have come to regard hell as a place to be afraid of, not because
of its wickedness, but because of its suffering. Theirs is a bitter mistake. It is a
grotesque and misleading interpretation of that state of which Jesus tells the
nature. His words assuredly point to the conclusion that a man may be in hell
here as well as yonder ; may be gnawed by its worm and burned by its fire now ae
well as hereafter. You do not lack proofs of this present truth in human life,
perhaps within the range of your observation, if not of your own experience. It
may be that no more striking illustration can be supplied than that of Lady
Macbeth, as painted by our great dramatist. After the murder of Banquo she
cannot rest. She rises from her bed and walks about. She rubs, and rubs, as if
washing her hands, and continues it for a quarter of an hour. She fancies she
sees a spot of blood on them. She cannot take it out ; her hands will not be clean,
and she cries, " Here's the smell of the blood stiU ; all the perfumes of Arabia will
not sweeten this little hand. Oh ! oh ! oh t " That sigh and cry show how " surel;
her heart is charged." Yet there is no repenta ce in her anguish. She argues in
CHAP, ix.l ST. MARK. 375
defence of the evil deed still. She is snffering mentally ; she is in agony — not for
the vileness of the crime she has urged on, but for its interference with her comfort
and peace. Thus her case affords an instance of how a soul may be weeping, and
wailing, and gnashing tbe teeth before it goes, with the uncleansed spots of sin,
into the shadow of death. {Ibid.) The members of the body reported in their
deeds : — " Do you know," said a young lady to her brother, •• there is a reporter to
be at the ball to which we are going to-morrow, and a full account wiU be given in
the newspapers of everybody who is there ? " Ah ! yes, there was a Reporter there
whom she little thought of — a Reporter who is in every place to which you can go,
whether it be to the house of feasting or the house of mourning, to the resort which
defiles you or which purifies you, to the place of cursing or the place of prayer ; and
the day is coming when that Reporter shall publish, before the myriads amid whom
you shall stand at the judgment seat of God, what " every one has done in his body,
according to that he has done, whether it be good or bad." What will be disclosed
as to the paths on which your feet have been made to go f Will you expect to hear
that you have never been, in thought or purpose, in any place but where Christ's
footprints were known to be before you ? {Ibid.) What the hands can do : — Just
glance at what may be operated by the hands. Would you care to hold out your
hands, before any number of your acquaintances, and say, *♦ These hands have
never been soiled by touching an unholy thing. They have not once written a
deceiving figure or an unbecoming word. They have never held any instrument in
order to accomplish a selfish and impure object." No neighbour might shrug his
shoulders at your assertion ; no voice might call ont, " I saw you use the shaking
glass of drunkenness, the cards of gambling, the jemmy of burglary I " But would
their inabihty to accuse you be a satisfactory acquittal ? Would you not, as brave
and honest souls, even if no human being could say that your hands were offensive
to the holy God, would you not confess they are or were ? Your tongue would not
utter boastful things. Why ? Because you are well aware that, though you have
never been a drunkard, a gambler, or a burglar, you have put aside a service of
self-denial, or you have grasped in your heart at an evil enjoyment. Knowing, as
you do, that wishing and planning to escape from any Christ-like duty must be a
grief to the Saviour, you would not like to hear His voice announce His sentence
as to all your failures ; you would not like to receive the due award of what your
hands have done or been thought capable of doing ! (Ibid.) Stumbling -blocks : —
1. The STXJMBLINO-BLOCKS HERB MENTIONED. II. WhETHEB A CLASSIFICATION OF
STUMBLING-BLOCKS BE SUGGESTED OB NOT, IMPOBTANT LESSONS, A8 TO THE CAUSES Of
FALLING, ABE HEBE TAUGHT. 1. May be part of ouTselvcs — personal appearance, &c.
2. May be in our occupation — sinful, engrossing, <feo. 8. May be in that which
delights as — conversation, music, &c. 4. May be in persons and society sought after
by us. 6. May be in useful and lawful things. 6. Every one must judge for him-
self. III. The command of Christ. 1. Most peremptory. The cause must be
removed — however valuable, painful, <fec. 2. Most pressing and weighty reasons
are assigned. Such conduct is indispensable to life. To act otherwise is to perish.
At how dear a price sinners purchase their pleasures ! {Expository Discourses.)
Maiming and life : — The New Testament revisers have rightly substituted the words
** cause to stumble," for •' offend ; " for the popular conception of offend is mis-
leading. It means that which is annoying or distasteful to another, but not
necessarily hurtful. But the word in the New Testament habitually means some-
thing dangerous. That which offends in the gospel sense may be neither annoying
nor distasteful; but agreeable and seductive. St. Paul speaks of "meat" as an
offence to a brother. In these hard words about cutting off, our Lord is not speaking
of things that are simply troublesome, for in God's moral economy a good many
troublesome things are retained as permanent factors of life. Self-sacrifice, hard
duty, are troublesome things, yet they enter into every genuine Christian life; while
many agreeable things are of the character of stumbling-blocks. The truth here
stated by Christ appears a cruel one. It is simply that maiming enters into
the development of hfe, and is a part of the process through which one attains
eternal life. We shall find that this law is not so cruel after all. There is an
aspect in which we all recognize this truth ; namely, on the side where it is related
to our ordinary life. No life is developed into perfection without cutting off some-
thing. The natural tendencies of the boy are to play and eat and sleep. Left to
themselves, those things will fill np the space allotted to thought and culture, so
that they must be controlled and restricted. The law indeed holds, from a point
below hmnan life, that every higher thing costs ; that it is won by the abridgment
876 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [cha>. nu
or suppresBion of something lower. The com of wheat must die in order to bring
forth fruit. The seed-life and the seed-form must go, so that the *' full com in the
ear" may come. This fact of limitation goes along with the entire process of
human education. The man who aims at eminence in any one department of life
must close the gates which open into other departments. In order to be a success-
ful merchant, he must abridge the pleasures of literary culture. He may have
equally strong affinities for medicine and for law, but he cannot become a successful
iawyer without cutting off the studies and the associations which go to make a suc-
cessful doctor. And success in any sphere necessitates his cutting off a large section
of self-indulgence. He must sacrifice pleasant leisure and pleasant society, and
needful rest and recreation. Moreover, it is true that men love life so much that
they will have it at the expense of maiming. A man will leap from a third story
of a burning house, and will take the chance of going through life with a crippled
limb or a distorted face, rather than stay and be burned or suffocated. "AH that
a man hath will he give for his life." Meecenas, the prime minister of the first
Roman emperor, said that he preferred life with the anguish of crucifixion to death.
Where is the man who will not lie down on the surgeon's table, and have his right
hand cut off or his right eye plucked out rather than die? The most helpless
cripple, the blind man, the mutilated and disfigured man, will say, *• It is better for
us to live maimed than to die." So that, on one side at least, the truth is not bo
unfamiliar or so cruel, after all. It represents, not an arbitrary decree, but a free
choice. Now, our Lord leads us up into the region of spiritual and eternal life, and
confronts us with the same alternative. Cut off anything, sacrifice anything, be
maimed and crippled so far as this life is concerned, rather than forfeit eternal life.
Life in God's kingdom, like life in the kingdom of nature and sense, involves a pro-
cess of education and discipline. A part of this disciphne is wrought through the
agency of the man himself ; that is, by the force of his own renewed will. A part
of it is brought to bear on him from without, through no agency of his own« And
here, as elsewhere, development implies limitation, suppression, cutting off. Have
you never known a woman on whom the door of her father's house was closed from
the moment that she went out of it with the husband of her choice, and who gave
herself to him, knowing that, in taking his part, she was cutting oft and casting
from her parental sympathy and aU tbe dear associations of childhood ? In our
great civil war, was it not true that many a man, by taking a side, became an out-
cast to those whom he had loved best ? Has it not been so in all the great issues of
history? In Christ's own day, and much more in the early days of the Church, that
happened again and again which Christ's words had foreshadowed. He who went
after the despised Galilean or His apostles, must forfeit home and friends and
social standing, and be called an ingrate and a traitor. He could not keep father
and mother and old associates who hated his Master. They would be only stumbling-
blocks to him ; and he must therefore cut them off, and go after Christ maimed on
that side of his life. This text tells us that this cutting off and casting away must
be our own act. " If thy hand cause thee to stumble, cut it off," — thou thyself.
We are not to presume on God's taking away from us whatever is hurtful. Our
spiritual discipline does not consist in merely lying still and being pruned. That
must do for a vine or a tree, but not for a living will. The surrender of that must
be a self-surrender. The forced surrender of a will is no surrender. The necessary
abridgement or limitation must enhst the active co-operation of the man who is
limited. ** Te are God's husbandry," says Paul ; but, almost in the same breathy
he says, •* Ye are God's fellow- workers." There are, however, two aspects in which
this self-cutting is to be viewed. On the one hand, there is, as just noted, something
which the man is to do by his own will and act. On the other hand, there is a cer-
tain amount of limitation apphed directly by God, without the man's agency. In
this latter case, the man makes the cutting off his own act by cheerful acceptance
of his limitations. Let us look at each of these two aspects in turn. In Christian
experience, one soon discovers certain sides on which it is necessary to limit him-
self ; certain things which he must renounce. The things are not the same for all
men. They are not necessarily evil things in themselves, but a sensitive and well-
disciplined conscience soon detects certain matters which it is best to lay violent
hands upon. Another conscience may not fix upon the same points ; but to thit
conscience they are stumbling-blocks, hindrances to spiritual growth, inconsistent
inth entire devotion to Christ. It is enough that they are so in this particular case.
It is right to have hands and feet and eyes, and to nse them. But in certain oasM
there if an antagonism between these and eternal life. The whole question eentret
flHAP. IX.J ST. MARK, 377
there. Whatever interferes with the attainment of eternal life must go. Tliua
much for the self-applied limitations, for oonscioas hindrances in the march to
eternal life. But there is another class of limitations, the need of which we do not
perceive. They belong in the higher and deeper regions of character, and are
linked with facts and tendencies which our self-knowledge does not cover. Such
limitations we cannot apply to ourselves : they are applied to us by God : and all
that our will has to do is to concur with the limitations and meekly to accept them.
In this region the discipline is more painful. God outs off and takes away where
we can see no reason for it ; but on the contrary, where we think we see every reason
against it. There are multitudes of Christian people who are going through life
maimed on one side or another. There is a man with the making of a statesman,
ruler, painter, or poet. He is maimed by no opportunity of culture. But every
true disciple of Christ enters His school with absolute self-surrender, and will
trust that God will cut o£f nothing that makes for eternal life. We could not win
eternal life as well with these gifts as without them. And so it will be better if we
can but enter into life. Better, far better, to go mumed all the way than to lose
eternal life. It matters little that those stately masts had to be out down in the
raging gale. No one thinks what splendid timbers were thrown overboard, on that
day when the ship, battered and mastless, and with torn sails and tangled cordage,
forges into the land-locked port with every soul on board safe. Better maimed than
lost. (M. B. Vincent, D.D.)
Vers. 44, 46, 48. Whero their worm dieth not. — The punishment of the wicked^
dreadful and interminable : — Some will say that this doctrine has no tendency to
do good ; it is idle to think of frightening men into religion. It is my duty not to
decide what doctrines are likely to do good, but to preach such as I find in the Scrip-
tures. I dare not pretend to be either more wise or more compassionate than our
Saviour ; and He thought it consistent, both with wisdom and compassion, to utter
the words of our text. These expressions allude to the manner in which the Jews
disposed of the bodies of the dead ; placed in tombs they were consumed by worms ;
or on a funeral pile it was consumed by fire. Ton have seen this, but there is
another death, of the soul. Those who die this death shall be preyed upon by
worms which will never die, and become the fuel of a fire that will never be
quenched. The language is indeed figurative, but not on that account less full of
meaning. I. In dilating upon these truths, I shall bay LrrTLE or thb cobpobeal
SUrFEBINOS WHIOH AWAIT IMPENITEKT SINNEBS BEYOND THE GRAVE. Such
sufferings will certainly compose a part of the punishment ; for their bodies shall
come forth to the resurrection of damnation ; as it is the servant of the soul, its
tempter to many sins, and its instrument in committing them, there seems to be
a manifest propriety in making them companions in punishment. But to the
Bufferings of the soul, the Scriptures chiefly refer. The clause — " where their worm
dieth not " — intimates that the soul will suffer miseries, analagous to those which
would be inflicted on a living body, by a multitude of reptiles constantly preying
upon it ; that as a dead body appears to produce the worms which consume it, so
the soul dead in trespasses and sins, really produces the causes of its own misery.
What are those causes, what is the gnawing worm? 1. Its own passions and
desires. That these are capable of preying upon the soul, and occasioning acute
suffering, even in this life, need not be proved. Look at a man who is habitually
peevish, fretful, and disappointed. Has he not gnawing worms already at his heart ?
Look at the envious, covetous, ambitious, proud ; these passions make men miserable
here ; even while in this world there are many things calculated to soothe or divert
men's passions. Sometimes they meet with success, and this produces a transient
calm ; at another time, the objects which excite their passions are absent, and this
al!ow8 quietness. Men have not always the leisure to indulge their passions ; they
are under the operations of causes which tend to restrain them, such as sleep. But
suppose all these removed, deprived of sleep, success, and the objects which excite
his strongest passions constantly before him, and all restraints gone. Would not
such a man be miserable? Nothing inflames the passions of men more than
suffering. 9. The gnawing worm includes the consciences of sinners. Conscience
has inflicted terrible agony, as in the case of Judas. Here she speaks only at
intervals; there without intermission. Here she may be stifled by scenes of
business or amusement, sophistical arguments ; but there will be no means of
eileneing her ; she will see everything in the clear light of eternity. What a God
she has offended, Savioor neglected, heaven lost. WeU may thia be eompared to a
378 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap. n.
gnawing worm. II. Onr Saviour speaks not only of a gnawing worm, but of am
uNQUKNCHABiiK FiBE. So far as the soul is concerned, this refers to a keen and
constant sense of God's presence and righteous displeasure. He says of Himself, " I
am a consuming fire." III. We learn from the passage before us, that thobb
SUFFERINGS WILL BE ENDLESS. Their worm dieth not. and the fire is not quenched.
The passions and consciences of sinners endure as long as the soul of which they are
a part. God lives for ever, He must for ever be displeased with sinners. " It is
impossible that I should deserve it." You know nothing of your sins, or of what sin
deserves. As well might a man, who should put vipers into his bosom, complain
of God because they stung him. Christ died to save them from their misery. {E.
Paysouy D.D.) Preserving fire : — Preserving fire, or salting with fire. Decay is a
species of burning ; and only those things that have been burnt, or cannot be burnt,
will not decay. I. Temptation is a preserving fire. The boy who has been
sheltered at home is honest ; but his integrity is not as firm as that of the honest
merchant. The clay (Isa. Ixiv. 8) is soft and plastic ; but after it has been burnt
in the furnace it will break before it vnll bend. All must pass through the fire of
temptation. If you are to be a vessel of honour fit for the heavenly palace, the Lord
must be your potter. IL Affliction is a preserving fibe. The metal comes
forth from the furnace more useful (Mai. iii. 3). III. The day ow judgment is also
COMPARED TO A FIRE (1 Cor. iii. 13). Fire is a searching test. All paint, enamel,
pretence of every kind, will melt before it. Its results are enduring. All must pass
through the fiery ordeal. Only such works can stand as proceed from gospel love.
lY. ibfOTHER PRESERVING FIRE IS THE FiBB OF HELL. The misety of hell is two-
fold : sin and its punishment. {J. B. Converse), Their worm dieth not — Conscience
in hell : — It has been discovered that there are worms which eat and live upon
stone. Many such have been found in a freestone wall in Normandy. So there is a
worm in hell — conscience — which lives upon the stony heart of the condemned
sinner, which gnaws with remorse all whom grace has not softened.
Ver. 49. For every one shall be salted with ILn.—The salt and the fire :^The
Lord's people are represented as being themselves ofl!ered up to Him, as His spiritual
sacrifices, both by Isaiah and St. Paul. It was a custom ordained of God in the
Levitical code (Lev. u.l3) that " Every oblation of thy meat-offering shalt thou season
with salt." Collecting, then, the points to which we have adverted, we have seen that
believers are represented as the Lord's sacrifices : that His sacrifices were anciently
purified by the typical salt ; that the object of the salt, or grace, is to preserve them
from the corruption of the worm of indwelling sin and the fire of ultimate judgment ;
and that in the whole chamber of imagery is inculcated the duty of sacrificing the
lusts of the flesh in order to our being edified in the spirit, and promoting the edifi-
cation of others. We recognize in the text a force and a beauty not discernible to
the superficial student, in the declaration of the gracious effect of those sanctifying
trials and mortifications in which all believers have their share ; " for every one
shall be salted with fire, and every sacrifice shall be salted with salt." Let os,
therefore, consider the teaching of the Spirit in this text to imply, first, an awful
denunciation on the man of unmortified lusts — " Every " such " one shall be salted
with fire ; " secondly, the gracious result of fleshly mortification — " every sacrifice
shall be waited with salt ; " that is, every believer who •' presents his body a living
sacrifice," " shall be salted with salt '* — that is, not with fire to consume, but with
salt to preserve. This is the contrast : on the one hand penal destruction ; on the
other, gracious preservation. I. The career of unmortified lust entails a
FEARFUL penalty. This declaration of Scripture is continually receiving fearful
illustrations in the premonitory dealings of Providence. Days of indulgence are
succeeded by nights of pain ; a youth of profligacy, if not prematurely out short,
entails a feeble, diseased, and miserable old age. Sin receives judgment by instal-
ments ; the salting fire of the Divine displeasure falls upon the wretched sinner, in
many a striking instance, even in this life, presenting, like the shock before the
earthquake, prelusive warning of the catastrophe about to follow. It is admitted
that the expression in the text is figurative. Bat the figures of Scripture never
exaggerate the facts of reality. The lost, unransomed soul, exposed to the searching
and protracted agonies of a fire that salts, that is, perpetuates the anguish of ite
miserable victims, exhibits the torments of the unbelieving in a broad glare of
horror, as if the letters were illuminated by the reflection of ** the lake that
burneUi.*' II. Thx obaoxous bffscts of fleshly mortifioatiom. The believef
is to be also salted, but with constraining love, with preserving grace, with saooti
OBAP. n.] 8T. MARK. 379
fying trial. The grace of mortification is that to the soul which salt is to the body ;
it preserves it from patrefaotion, and renders it savoury. Inferences : 1. That there
is in every believer some lust to be subdued — for " every sacrifice shall be salted
with salt." We do not apply salt except to those things which have a natural ten-
dency to corruption. If behevers must have *• salt in themselves," it follows that
there is in them the principle of corruption. One man is attacked through the
medium of his ambition ; the lust of secular distinction desolates his heart of all
piety. Another man is drawn aside by his avarice. Another man is seduced by his
animal lusts, and the unchecked vagrancy of the eye. Another man is tempted
through the medium of temper, and his ebullitions of frightful rage shock the ears
of his household. Another man is led astray by his pride. Lastly, the figure sug-
gests the doclrine, that the spiritual health of the believer is to be promoted and
attained by fleshly mortification. It is by this means that the soul is to be clarified
from sin and preserved in grace. {J. B. Owelty M.A.) A double salting^ either
with fire or with salt : — Every man that lives in the world must be a sacrifice to God.
The wicked are a sacrifice to God's justice ; but the godly are a sacrifice dedicated
and offered to Him, that they may be capable of His mercy. The first are a sacri-
fice against their wills, but the godly are a free-will offering, a sacrifice not taken
but offered. The grace of mortification is very necessary for all those who are
devoted to God. I. That thb tbue notion of a Ghbistiam is that he is a
8ACBIFICE, OB A THANK- oFTBBiNO TO GoD (Rom. xii. 1). Under the law, beasts were
offered to God, but in the gospel men are offered to Him ; not as beasts were, to be
destroyed, slain, and burnt in the fire, but to be preserved for God's use and service.
In offering anything to God, two things were of consideration. 1. There is a separa-
tion of ourselves from a common use. The beast was separated from the flock «r
herd for this special purpose (2 Cor. v. 15). 2. There is a dedicating ourselves to
God, to serve, please, honour, and glorify Him. We must be sincere in this — 1,
Because the truth of our dedication will be known by our use ; many give up them-
selves to God, but in the use of themselves there is no such matter ; they carry it
as though their tongues were their own (Psa. xii. 4). 2. Because God will one day
call us to account. 3. Because we are under the eye and inspection of God. II.
That the obacb or uobtificatiom ib the tbue salt wherewith this offebino
AND 8ACBIFICE SHOULD BE SEASONED. 1. Salt prcscrves flcsh from putrefaction by
consuming that superfluous and excrementitious moisture, which otherwise would
soon corrupt : and so the salt of the covenant doth prevent and subdue those lusts
which would cause us to deal nnfaithfuUy with God. Alas I meat is not so apt to
be tainted as we are to be corrupted and weakened in our resolutions to God, with-
out the mortifying grace of the Spirit. 2. Salt hath an acrimony, and doth
macerate things and pierce into them ; and so the grace of mortification is painful
and troublesome to the carnal nature. We either must suffer the pains of hell or
the pains of mortification ; we must be salted with fire or salted with salt. It is
better to pass to heaven with difficulty and austerity, than to avoid these difficulties
and run into sin, and so be in danger of eternal fire. The strictness of Christianity
is nothing so grievous as the punishment of sin. 8. Salt makes things savoury,
so grace makes us savoury, which may be interpreted with respect either to God or
man. We must be seasoned by the grace of Christ, and so become acceptable in the
sight of God ; the more we are salted and mortified, the more we shall do good to
others. IH. Thebe is a necessitt of this salt in all those that have entered
WTO covenant with God, and have dedicated and devoted themselves to Him.
1. By our covenant vow we are bound to the strictest duties, and that upon the
highest penalties. The duty to which we are bound is very strict. 2. The abun-
dance of sin that yet remains in us, and the marvellous activity of it in our souls.
We cannot get rid of this cursed inmate till our tabernacle be dissolved, and this
house of clay tumbled into the dust. Well, then, since sin is not nullified, it must
be mortified. 3. Consider the sad consequences of letting sin alone, both either aa
to further sin or punishment. If lust be not mortified, it grows outrageous. Sins
prove mortal if they be not mortified. The unmortified person spares the sin and
destroys his own soul ; the sin ves, but he dies. Now to make application. L For
the reproof of those that canno abide to hear of mortification. The unwillingness
and impatience of this doctrine may arise from several causes. 1. From sottish
atheism and unbelief. 2. It m y come from libertinism. And these harden their
hearts in sinning by a mistaking the gospel. (1) Some vainly imagine aa if God by
Jesus Christ were made more reconcilable to sin, that it needs not so much to be
rftood upon, nor need we to be a exact, to keep such ado to mortify and subdue
380 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. 'ouAf. a
the inclinaUons that lead to it They altogether run to the eomforts of the gospel
and neglect the daties thereof. Christ died for sinners, therefore we need not to bA
troubled aboat it. (2) Another sort think such discourses may be well spared
among a company of oelievers, and they need not this watchfulness and holy oare,
especially against grievoos sins ; that they have such good command of themselves
that tbey can keep within compass well enough. (3) A third sort are such as think
believers are not to be scared with threatenings, but only oUed with grace. 8. It
may arise from another cause, the passionateness of carnal affections. There is
no hope ; it is an evil and I must bear it. Consider the doleful condition of those
that indulge their carnal affections ; and that either threatened by God, or executed
upon the wicked. (1) Consider it as it is threatened by God. If God threaten so
great a misery, it is for our profit, that we may take heed and escape it. There is
mercy in the severest threatenings, that we may avoid the bait when we see the
hook, that we may digest the strictness of a holy life, rather than venture upon
such dreadful evils. (2) Consider which trouble is most intolerable—to be salted
with salt, or to be salted with fire ; with unpleasing mortification, or the pains of
hell ; the trouble of physio, or the danger of a mortal disease. Surely to preserve
the life of the body, men will endure the bitterest pill, take the most loathsome
potion. Better be macerated by repentance, than broken in hell by torments.
Which is worse, discipline or execution ? Here the question is put : you must be
troubled first or last. Would you have a sorrow mixed with love and hope, or else
mixed with desperation ? Would you have a drop or an ocean ? Would you have
your souls cured or tormented f Would you have trouble in the short moment of
this life, or have it eternal in the world to come ? (J. Manton, D.D.) The church
the salt of the earth: — The first expression demanding our attention is "salt."
Salt is an object of external nature, endued with certain properties. It possesses
the property of penetration into the masses of animal matter, to which it shall be
appUed in sufficient abundance and with sufficient perseverance; and it possesses
the property of extending a preserving savour as it pervades the mass. Here is the
basis of its suitability to represent Christ's church on the earth. A characteristic
of the population of this fallen world is, moral corruption. The men of this world,
even those who are most advanced in morals and in respectability amongst their
fellows, are nevertheless described in the Word of God as being corrupt according to
their deceitful lusts and defilements. Selfishness, ostentation, envy, jealousy, taint
their boasted morals ; and as surely as a mass of animal matter left to its natural
tendencies in our atmosphere would proceed from one degree of corruption to
another, until it reached the putrefaction of dissolution, so surely would the popu-
lation of this world, left to its own natural tendency, make progress from one degree
of m»ral corruption to another, until they all reached the putrefaction of damnation.
Christ's church is the salt of the earth ; it is the Lord's preserve and the Lord's
preservative. This brings us to the next word here, which is ** fire." Fire is another
object of external nature possessing certain properties. It possesses the properties
of penetrating and melting, and separating the dross from the pure ore ; and so in
this respect it becomes suitable as an emblem of sanctified affliction, which separates
a man from the common and downward course of a heedless and worldly popula-
tion, and causes him to pause and meditate, and take himself to task, and look around
and look before him, and to fall upon his knees and cry to God to have mercy upon
him. I have said sanctified affiiction ; because affliction itself, considered apart
from the special use made of it by the Spirit of God, has no such power over a man's
character. '« The sorrow of this world worketh death ; " mere trouble considered
in its natural operation upon man, however it may subdue him for a season, however
it may make him pause in his course, does not change him. But this is not all,
the Lord says in our text. " Every one " — not every Christian only, but — " every
one shall be salted with fire." This leads us to remark, that fire possesses other
properties, the power of consuming the stubble and all the rubbish ; and it is thereby
suitable to express those tremendous judgments, which shall overwhelm the adver-
saries at the second glorious appearing of the Lord Jesus, when, as the apostle
sublimely tells as, ** The Lord shall be revealed from heaven in flames of fire,
taking vengeance on them that know not God and that obey not the gospel of our
Lord Jesus Christ, who shall be punished with everlasting destruction from the
presence of the Lord, and from the glory of His power." Every ungodly man shall,
as it were, be salted with fire — shall be seasoned with fire — rendered unconsumabla
in the fire that bumeth — preserved in burning. Salted with fire 1 This is a tremen-
dous saying, a dreadful thought. Immortalised in endurance 1 preserved from
OTAP. IX.] ST. MARK, 881
burning out ! Salted with fire I Well, well might He call upon them to out off right
hands, pluck out right eyes, to separate themselves from the dearest lust, from the
most fostered and cherished indulgence, rather than be cast into that eternal fire.
But how shall this exhortation be obeyed ? There is no native power in man,
whereby be can rescue himself from what he loves. He must love something; and
except he be supplied with something better to love, he must go on to follow what
he now loves. It is only the power of something he loves better, that can separate
him from what he loves well. What can induce him to part with his sin, which is
as precious to his corrupt heart as his eyes are to the enjoyment of his body ? What
«an induce him to do it ? Every one then, both he that believeth and he that
believeth not, shall be salted with fire. He that believeth shall be purified by
affliction, and he that believeth not sball be immortalized in the endurance of
agony. ** And every sacrifice shall be salted with fire." Here is another figure,
not derived from external nature, but derived from the Mosaic ritual — a sacrifice.
A sacrifice is an offering devoted to God. Hence a sacrifice is suitable to repre-
sent a member of Christ's Church. He is not separated from the common
actions and lawful actions of the world, for that would be to take him out
ol the world; but he is separated from the common state of mind in which
those actions are performed. Instead of withdrawing from the duties of life, it
engages him in them for conscience' sake, as well as for convenience or reputation
or gain. It makes every action of his life religious ; it invests the very drudgeries
of the lowest grade of life with a sanctity, as being done in the service of God. So
then, a believer becomes a sacrifice, and so the Apostle Paul having enlarged upon
the glorious blessings of the gospel, whereby men are so separated, improves the
statement thus : " I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye
present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your
reasonable service ; and be not conformed to this world, but be ye transformed by
the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good and acceptable and
perfect will of God." All the sacrifices of the Jewish ritual were seasoned with
salt. In the second chapter of the book of Leviticus and at the thiri;eenth verse
you will find the commandment, ** And every oblation of thy meat-offering shalt
thou season with salt ; neither shalt thou suffer the salt of the covenant of tiiy God
to be lacking from thy meat-offering : with all thy offerings thou shaJt offer salt."
*' Every sacrifice," every true believer, *• shall be salted with salt." Now what is
the force of this expression, " salted with salt " ? We have seen that to be salted
with fire signifies to be personally purified ; to be salted with salt signifies to be
made relatively a blessing. The Christian is salted with fire for his own personal
purification, and he is salted with salt for his extended usefulness among others.
" He shall be blessed and he shall be a blessing," as was said of the father of the
faithful, Abraham. We inherit this blessing of Abraham, to be salted with fire and to
he salted with salt. To this our Lord dearly refers, when He calls His church ** the
salt of the earth. " (H. McNeile^ M.A.) How is the body^ it may be said, to become
a sacrifice f — Let the eye look upon no evil thing, and it has become a sacrifice ;
let the tongue speak nothing filthy, and it has become an offering ; let thy hand do
no lawless deed, and it has become a whole burnt-offering. Or, rather, this is not
enough, but we must have good works also. Let the hand do alms, the mouth
bless them that curse one ; and the hearing find leisure evermore for the lections
of Scripture. For sacrifice allows of no unclean thing. Sacrifice is a firstfruit of
the other actions. Let us then from our hands, and feet, and mouth, and all other
members, yield a firstfruit unto God. (Chnjsostom.) Preservation from corrup-
tion:— Christ is not, in either of these terms (salted, fire), referring to the Uteral
realities. It is salting and fire, metaphorically viewed, of which He speaks.
Among the various uses of salt, two are popularly outstanding — seasoning and
preserving from corruption. The reference here is to the latter. In hot countries,
in particular, killed meat hastens to a tainted condition, and could not be preserved
from spoiling, for any appreciable length of time, were it not for salting. It is on
this antiseptic propei-ty of salt that Christ's representation is founded. Every one
ol His disciples shall be preserved from corruption by fire. The fire referred to,
however, is not penal, like the inextinguishable fire of Gehenna. It is intentionally
purificatory. But, though not penal, it is painful. It scorches, and pierces to the
■quick. What, then, is this fire f It is the unsparing spirit of self-sacrifice — the
spirit that parts, for righteousness' sake, with a hand, a foot, an eye. Every dis-
ciple of Christ is preserved from corruption, and consequent everlasting destruction,
fcy unsparing self-sacrifice. (-7. Morison, D.D.)
382 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [oha». n.
Ver. 50. Salt Is good. — Have salt in yourselves: — This is only another form of
exhorting Christians to have strength of character as Christians. Bat since ft
strong character, in the spiritual as in the natural man, is apt to come into collision
with others equally strong, our Lord cautions His disciples against any breach of
the law of love. Staunch they must be in their adherence to principle ; but they
may not be quarrelsome. " Have peace one with another." 1. The salt of self-
denial. 2. The salt of energy. 3. The salt of truthfulness. {Dean Goulbum.)
Salt : — I. Look at what is heke so EXPRESsrvELY symbolized. Salt is necessary to
sacrifice. 1. Christ is the symbol of the covenant of everlasting mercy, but of ever-
lasting mercy as the basis of a sinner's new life. 2. Salt symbolizes not only God's
covenant of mercy with man, but man's covenant with God. The liie of the animal was
devoted and offered with salt to signify — not only the Divine fact of atonement, but the
human fact of self-surrendfr : and the worshipper said, " I have given the life of the
animal to Thee to signify that henceforth my own life is for ever Thine." 3. Salt is
also the principle of counteractive grace — " Have salt in yourselves." 4. Salt signifies
the preventive, corrective, life-nourishing power of the Christian society in the
world — " Ye are the salt of the earth." 6. Salt is also the principle of peace.
It destroys the unbenevolent passions. II. The Saviour's lesson concerning
the deterioration of the salt. 1. The possibility of deterioration — " If the salt have
lost its savour." 2. Christ marks here three things as characteristic of men in
this state. (1) They are useless. (2) They are contemptible. (3) They are
rejected with disdain. {Preacher's Monthly.) True, yet tender — Tender, yet
true: — The two principal terms are salt and peace. I. The meaning of bach.
Salt as a metaphor applied to human character in the New Testament, signifies in
general the grace of God sanctifying the whole nature, and in particular the sterner
virtues — faithfulness, boldness, righteousness, truth, purity. The term indicates
holiness on its harder side ; and holiness has a hard side, for it must needs be
strong. In this use of the analogy the preserving power of salt is the predomin-
ating idea. Salt appears here as the stem, sharp antagonist of all corruption.
Christians baptized into the Spirit of Christ act as salt in a tainted world. In
union with the virtue that preserves, there is a pungency that pains. You may
observe, however, that salt does not irritate whole skin. Apply it to an open sore,
and the patient winces ; but a healthy member of a living body does not shrink
from its touch. A similar distinction obtains in the moral region. Stringent
faithfulness in the conduct of his neighbour will not offend a just man : but those
who do not give justice do not like to get it. Purity in contact with impurity makes
the impure miserable. Peace. Surely it is not necessary to explain what this word
means. You may comprehend it without the aid of critical analysis. It is like the
shining sun or the sweet breath of early summer ; it is its own expositor. Wherever
it is, it makes its presence and its nature known. As the traveller who has missed
his way thinks more of the light, and understands it better, while he is groping in
the dark than he did in the blaze of noon ; so those best understand and value
peace who suffer the horrors of war. You know the worth of it when you know the
want of it. The greatest peace is, peace with the Greatest ; the greatest peace is,
peace with God. The Mediator who makes it is the greatest Peacemaker. Peace
— including all the characteristics of a Christian which make for peace — is holiness
on its softer side ; and holiness has a soft side, that it may win the world. II. Thk
RECIPROCAL RELATION BETWEEN SALT IN OURSELVES AND PEACE WITH ONE ANOTHER.
To a certain extent these two are opposites ; peace maintained with your neighbour
is antagonist to the vigour of salt in yourselves. Accordingly error appears in two
opposite directions. One man has so much salt in himself that he cannot maintain
peace with his neighbours ; another man is so soft and peaceable towards all that
he manifests scarcely any of the faithfulness which is indicated by salt. It is in-
structive to examine the limits and extent of this antagonism. Faithfulness does
sometimes disturb peace ; and peace is sometimes obtained at the expense of faith-
fulness. It is not inherent in the nature, but is introduced by sin. When Christ
has made an end of sin the contradiction will disappear from the new world. In
heaven all are peaceful and yet pure : pure and yet peaceful. There the salt does
not disturb, because there is no corruption ; peace does not degenerate into indiffer-
ence, for there is no vile appetite to be indulged. Meanwhile, that which comes as
a curse is, under the arrangements of Providence, converted into a blessing. As
toil to keep down thorns and thistles is a useful exercise for physical health, so
effort to maintain faithfulness without breaking peace keeps the spirit healthfo}
and fits for heaven. Every effort made by the disciple of Christ to soften his ow»
CHAP, nc.] ST. MARK. S83
faithfulness and invigorate his own tenderness goes to increase the treasures which
he shall enjoy at God's right hand. Watch on the right side, and on the left. 1.
On the side of peace. There cannot be too much gentle peace-making in the
character and conduct of a man. But if the folds of our peace are so large, and
thick, and warm, as to overlay and smother our faithfulness, the peacemakers are
not blest by God, and are not blessings to the world. 2. On the side of truth and
faithfulness. There cannot be too much of faithfulness in the character of a
Christian ; but even faithfulness to truth may become hurtful, if it is dissociated
from the gentleness of Christ. Similar antagonisms in the system of nature consti-
tute at once the exercise and the evidence of the Creator's skill. Results are
frequently obtained through the union of antagonist forces neutralizing each other.
A familiar example is supplied by the centripetal and centrifugal forces, which
insure the stability of the solar system. Take another case, equally instructive,
though not so obvious. In the structure of a bird, with a view to the discharge of
its fimctions, two qualites, in a great measure reciprocally antagonistic, must be
united ; these are strength and Ughtness. As a general rule, strength is incom-
patible with lightness, and lightness incompatible with strength. You cannot
increase the one without proportionally diminishing the other. The body of the
bird must float in the air, therefore it must be proportionally lighter than quad-
rupeds or fishes ; but the creature must sustain itself for long periods in the atmos-
phere, and perform journeys of vast length, therefore its members must be strong.
The structure of a bird, accordingly, exhibits a marvellous contrivance for the
combination of the utmost possible Ughtness. Every one is familiar with the
structure of the feathers that compose the wing. The quill barrel gives you an
example of a minimum of material so disposed as to produce a maximum of
strength. The bones of birds are formed on the same plan. They are greater in
circumference than the corresponding bones of other animals, but they are hollower
in the heart.^ In iron castings we repeat the process which we have learned from
nature. This union of antagonists for the production of a common beneficent
result is like the labour of a Christian life. Let the timid and retiring nature stir
np his soul to a greater measure of truthful courage, without letting any of his
gentleness go. Let the vine of his tenderness cUng to an oak of stern faithfulness ;
it will thus bear more fruit than if it were allowed to trail on the ground. The arms
that impart strength to the chair only hurt the occupant if they lack the cushion
that ought to cover them. For strength, there should be an iron hand in the velvet
glove ; but for softness, a velvet glove should be on the iron hand when it grasps
the flesh of a brother. Self-love, hke a huge lump of iron concealed under the
deck right below the ship's compass, draws the magnet aside ; thus the life takes a
wrong direction, and the soul is shipwrecked. Self-love draws the life now to the
right and now to the left ; the errors lie not all on one side. One man, soft from
selfishness, basely sacrifices truth and duty for ease ; another, hard from selfish-
ness, bristles all over with sharp points, like thorns that tear the flesh of the
passenger, and when he has kindled discord among brethren, calls his own bad
temper faithfulness to truth. There is no limit to the abberration of a human
judgment under the bias of self-interest. It will not scruple to dispute the dis-
tinction between black and white, if it can thereby hope to gain its selfish end. Oh,
how precious are these words of our Lord, " Watch and pray, that ye enter not into
temptation." It is easier to explore the sources of the Nile, than to discover the
true motives whence our own actions spring ; and easier to turn the Nile from his
track, than to turn the volume of thoughts and purposes which issue from a
human heart and constitute the body of a human life. We cheat ourselves and oar
neighbours as to the character of our motives and the meaning of our acts. Some
people mistake acid for salt; their own passions for godly zeal. Jehn drives
furiously forward to purify the administration of the kingdom ; but it is a cruel,
selfish ambition that spurs him on. When such a man scatters a shower of acid
from his tongue, and sees that his neighbours are hurt by the biting drops, he
points to their contortions, and exclaims. See how pungent my salt is 1 The true
savour is in my salt ; for see how these people smart under its sting 1 Ah, the acid,
in common with salt, makes a tender place smart in a brother ; but it possesses not,
in common with salt, the faculty of warding off corruption. Itself corrupts and
undermines ; it corrodes and destroys all that it drops upon. " Get thee behind
me, Satan: for thou savourest not the things that be of God." (W. Amot.)
8aUU$$ $alt : — In the Valley of Salt, which is about four hours from Aleppo, there
ia a kind of drj onut of salt, which sounds, when the horses go apon it, like frosea
884 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap. ix.
snow when it is walked upon. Along on one side of the valley, via., that towards
Gibul, there is a small precipice about two men's lengths, occasioned by the con'
tinual taking away the salt ; and in this yoa may see how the veins of it lie. I
broke a piece of it, of which the part that was exposed to the rain, snn, and air,
though it had the sparks and particles of salt, yet it had perfectly lost its savour.
The inner part, which was connected with the rock, retained its savour, as I found
by proof. (Maundrell.) Seasoning cJiaracters : — Whatever may be the case with
literal salt, Christ is referring to spiritual salt, which undoubtedly, in so far as it
consiBts of a phase of character, may be metamorphosed into its negative or contra-
dictory. Such metamorphic changes of character are possible in two directions.
They may be realized upwardly, in bad beings becoming good ; or downwardly, in
good beings becoming bad. Hatred may be transformed into love, or love into hatred.
In either case there is "conversion" from contrary to contrary. (J. Morison, D.D.)
Salt is good : — Every Christian requires as a sacrifice the salt of fire ; the salt of
fiery trial, the salt of searching, fiery self-restraint, refusing sin, breaking off from
evil, cutting off the right hand, plucking out the right eye, preferring the fire of
self-denial on earth to the terrible fire reserved for impenitent sinners in hell. Such
salt, such searching, pungent, self -purifying salt is good ; but, if it have lost its
saltness, wherewith will ye season it ? If those who are bound in covenant with
God to refrain from sin, and offer themselves holy sacrifices to Him, yield instead
of resisting, there is no acceptableness in them, God will not receive them ;
shunning the earthly fires of self-government and self-denial, there is nothing for
them to look forward to but that awful hell fire which is prepared for the devil and
his angels. This seems to be the true and just method of paraphrasing our Lord's
words about salt, with their context, as they occur in the ninth chapter of St.
Mark. IG. Moberly, D.C.L.) The victory of fiolinets : — Do they not show that
to be a Christian, a Christian such as God approves and will accept, there needs
heroism ? Yes, not less than a true heroism of spirit, maintaining a visible or
secret strife against evil, and conquering it, even to the loss of hand, foot, or eye,
even to the destruction of friendship, if so be, the loss of love, the relinquishment
even of life. Does it not show that this heroism of spirit, this clear, bright, searching
salt of hearts, is required of all ? (Ibid.) A bargain of salt : — ^I. That an inward
SEASONING WITH BELIOION AND OBACB IS SUCH A THING AS AUi THB DISCIPLES OF
Cbfjst Jesus must endeavoub for. 1. Teaching disciples, ministers must be well
seasoned within with the power of godliness. (1) A teacher who is himself well
seasoned is the most fit to season others. There is ever most Ufe in that man's
teaching who teaches from experience. (2) An unseasoned minister cannot choose
but break forth into some outward scandal. His inward rottenness cannot possibly
be so smothered or tempered, but it will make his course to be unsavoury. 2. The
same is to be endeavoured for by every Christian, that is, every Christian must
labour so as to have a name and a show of godliness without, so that he feels the
power of godliness within. (1) Until this holy salt has fretted out the evil from the
heart the Lord can have no pleasure therein ; until this is done a man does not
know what true religion means ; there can be no constancy in religion where this
wants. It is not possible for a man to hold out his profession unless he is well
seasoned. (2) These duties, required of each Christian, admonishing, comfuting,
<&c., can never be practised aright but by a man who is able and willing to do them
out of personal feeling. That which is in itself unsavoury can never make another
thing to be sweet. {Samuel Hieron.) The salting process in the soul : — For thine
own particular, learn of the housewife ; if there be anything in the house needs
seasoning, she falls to work with the salt forthwith. Look into thyself, see what
oorrupt a^ections there be in t'nee, what careless desires, what inordinate motions,
what crookedness of will, what barrenness of spiritual grace, a thousand to one if
the salt were good which thou broughtest home, it will do thee service for the
bringing of those oorrupt humours to a better temper ; cliiefly take note of this.
I am nut ashamed to use this household kitchen similitude still. She that
powdereth meat to keep it sweet, look what places are most bloody and moisty ;
there she ever puts in most salt, such parts are most apt to putrify. So do thou,
consider with tibyself what is thy chiefest sin, thy most prevailing fault, thy most
strong corruption, that which thoumayest call by David's phrase, "My wickedness ";
thou shalt soon know it by the strength of the affection to it, and thy imwillingness
to forego it. Oh, clap in, put on store of salt there; rub it in hard. If thou hast
heard of any judgment, or reproof, thrust it on close, it may be it may smart a
little ; it is no matter, better so than ever ache, this will soak out the rank humours.
CHAF. EL] 8T. MARK. il86
and make thee become a sweet Imnp before the Lord. It is ft teolt many times,
men sprinkle a little salt of doctrine npon themselves here and there snperficially,
they consider not what be their master, their bloody, their reigning sins, they search
not within and without to see where salt needs especially, and so they become
loathsome through the lack of an effectual powdering. Neither is this all required
in the use of this salt for one's own particular, but there is also a more general
and an universal use to be made thereof. What day is there in the family, wherein
there is no ose of common salt? Truth is, there is neither day in the life of a
Christian, nor action in that day, wherein this spiritual salt can justly be thought
superfluous. Every sacrifice must be salted with salt, it was a rule of the ancient
law. (Ibid.) Home talting : — Good it were if masters of families would think
themselves bound to carry home some of this salt, and bestow it on those that are
of their household charge. (Ibid.) That amongst the disciples of Christ there must
be mutual peace : — Our God is the God of Peace. Our Saviour is the Prince of
Peace. The gospel which is preached amongst us, is the gospel of peace. The
substance of it is glad tidings of peace. Our calling is in peace. They which are
the Lord's are called the sons of peace ; bo we ought all to endeavour to keep *• the
unity of the spirit in the bond of peace "; and to live in peace. Christians must
follow peace with all men ; and if it be possible have peace with all men ; and
therefore among themselves they must seek it, and ensue it much more. I must
open this as the former doctrine by distinguishing upon Christ's disciples. Some
are preachers of peace, some are professors of peace. Let me show you how this
doctrine reacheth unto both. The teachen of peace must have peace one towards
another : — Their agreement, their peace, their consent, is a great motive to the
people to entertain their doctrine. Hereupon was that use of Paul's, to prefix the
names of others with his own, as "Paul, and our brother Sostenes;" "Paul, and our
brother Timotheus;" "Paul, and all the brethren that are with me ;" " Paul, and Sil-
▼anus and Timotheus." The case stands in the building of the spiritual body, as it
did in the typical body, in fighting the Lord's battle, by those whose ofl&ce it is to
fight the good fight of faith, as in the fighting for Israel against Ammon. The agree*
ment of the builders will advance the building both with speed and beauty ; the
joint proceeding of the leaders will undoubtedly prevail against the common enemy.
Solomon's temple wasbuilded without noise ; neither hammer, nor axe, nor any tool
of iron was heard in the house while it was in building; a type, I doubt not, of the
stillness in respect of freedom from mutual contentions which ought to be amongst
pastors. Again, the want of this agreement and peace will be a great prejudice to
the growth of the truth. The means used in God'a wisdom to hinder Babel's
bnilding was a strife of tongues among the builders ; so when those whidi are the
builders of the spiritual House of God, the Church, are rent asunder in affection,
the work cannot go forward as it should. The shepherds being divided, the sheep
must needs be scattered. This to prove that the teachers of peace must have peace
one towards another. God hath sent us pradicare, not praliari, to work and not to
wrangle ; while we strive the devil works for himself : atheism, popery, do advan-
tage themselves by our dissentions. There must be mutual peace among the pro-
fessors of peace, the places which I first named in the beginning of the doctrine do
enjoin it This is the mark by which they are known. "By this shall all men know
that ye be my disciples, if ye have love one to another." To love one another, and to
have peace one towards another, are all one. Be wise and learn how to judge and
what to think in this point of ministerial consent and peace, that you may not
easily stumble through mistaking. Here, therefore, in order, I pray heartily observe
these particulars. First, that consent and agreement of teachers is no certain
mark of truth in that wherein they consent ; Aaron and all the other Levites con-
sented to the making of the golden calf, four hundred prophets joined together to
persuade good success to Ahab, yet that was false which they persuaded. Our
Saviour was condemned by a common consent of elders and priests. Secondly,
that it is possible for some dissention to fall out sometimes even amongst the best
men, A controversy betwixt Peter and Paul, betwixt Peter and the other Apostles
and brethren at Jerusalem. The difference between Paul and Barnabas was very
eaqer. Dissentions in Corinth. Great and vehement quarrels betwixt Austen and
Elierome, Cyril and Theodoret, Chrysostome and Theophilact, as histories acd their
own writings testify. It is so ; first, by the cunning of the devil, who, to stop the
course of the gospel, laboureth to sow the seeds of dissention. Secondly, by reason
of the remainders of corruption which are in all ; there is much ignorance and self-
love even in the best, and these things cause differences, while men either see act
25
886 TEE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [ohat. x.
the truth. That among professors and preachers of religion there is, or may be, a
threefold oonsent. First, in one faith and doctrine ; namely, a consent of judgment
Secondly, in affection. Thirdly, in speech ; namely, when their teaching and
manner of holding and defending of points of doctrines is the same. {Ibid). (hie
^sseiUial : — " Salt is good, but if the salt have lost its saltness wherewith will ye
(■eason it r " In every good thing there is one supreme essential, besides much that
is of minor importance. Let that one element be lacking, and all the rest is a
mockery. If sugar be not sweet, if fruit have no flavour, if meat be without nutri-
ment, what folly to give it commendation for any other quality 1 If a man lack
manliness, if a woman lack womanliness, if a child lack childlikeness, praise for any
other characteristic is little else than censure or a sneer. What is home without
affection? What is friendship without mutual confidence? What is character
without sincerity? What is salt without saltness ? If you are a disciple of Christ
the real question is. How much of Christian discipleship is there in you ? Every-
thing else — all your popularity, all your supposed usefulness, all your zeal in good
vv'orks— is something outside of the only that is really worth taking into aocount in
an estimate of your worth as a disciple of Christ.
CHAPTEB Z.
Yeb. 1. He taught them again. — He taught them again: — How thick and dose
does this Heavenly Sower scatter His seed I Every line is a new lesson, and every
lesson a rule of perfection. Oh, the magnificent bounty of our God I He gives
not barely the measure we give others ; but *' pressed down, and shaken together,
and running over into our bosoms." Why are we then so slow and dull to learn
these Divine instructions ? Why so remiss to practise them ? Are they not sweet
and excellent in themselves ? Are they not infinitely profitable to us ? Oh, make
us greedy to learn what Thy love makes Thee so eager to teach ! (W. Austin.)
Vers. 2-12. Is it lawful for a man to put away his viMqI— The family relation:^
One of the most pathetic incidents found in the narrative of one of the arctic
explorations, is that of the attempt made to induce a native of that terribly inhos-
pitable region to journey away with the returning navigators to a more sunny clime.
Won by the enthusiastic descriptions of a land of orchards and meadows, of purling
brooks and singing birds, he did indeed surrender himself to go. But hardly were
they on the way out from among those mountain bergs of ice and dismal fields of
snow, directing their course towards the latitudes where the blue tops of distant
hills told of freshening verdure, before they missed their simple-hearted comrade.
He had gone back clandestinely to the cheerless scenes of his former life. Cold and
uninviting to a stranger, those northern soUtudes were welcome to him because they
had been his home ever since he was bom. We smile at his simplicity, but how
quickly, after all, do we give him our sympathy in the feeling 1 We love our homes
unaffectedly and almost illogically at times; not because they in every case are
better than others, but because they are ours. I. The family is a Divinb institution.
We are not left to look upon it as a chance arrangement of individuals of the human
species ; it is a definitely fixed form of association. 1. It was ordained by the
Creator himself when the race began (see Mark x. 6 ; Gen. ii. 18-25). This order
therefore cannot be changed irreverently, nor disturbed without peril. 2. It has
been recognized all along the ages by the providence of God. When David (Psa.
Ixviii. 6) says : " God setteth the solitary in families," a more literal and more
pertinent translation would give us this : " God maketh the lonely to dwell in a
home." The all-wise Creator has provided in the wide adaptations of nature for an
abode of its own sort for every creature of His hand. He has set the coney in the
rock, the ant in the sand, the fish in the river, and the whale in the sea ; but to no
one of them all has He given a home but to man. 8. It has been sanctioned by
God in His Word (see Mark x. 7-9). 4. It has bee symbolized and spiritualized in
the Church (see Eph. iii. 16). And the relation etween Christ and His people is
like that between a husband and wife (see Eph. v. 22-32). John saw the Church,
"the bride, the Lamb's wife," descending out of heaven, "having the glory of God"
(Bev. zxi. 9, 10). U. The family is k Bsuaions institutiom. That is to say, it has
z.] iSrr. MARK, 887
ft distinot and valaable purpose to serve in aiding men to glorify Gh>d and enjoy Him
for ever as their chief end, 1. It is designed to perfeot Christian character. The
relations of a believer to his Saviour are essentially filial. The saints are the
«hildren of God. The Almighty Father, takiug upon Himself the three obligations
of a parent — government, education, and support — calls upon each Christian for
the three duties of a son — subordination, studiousness, and grateful love. Hence,
aU our celestial connections with God are most perfectly and easily taught through
cor earthly connections with each other in a well-ordered home. 2. Again : the
family relation is designed to concentrate Christian power. For it is the earliest
outflow into practical use of the principle that in union there is strength. 8. In the
third place, the family relation is designed to cultivate the Christian spirit. There
ought to be in all organizations which are worth anything what the French people
call esprit de corps ; a peculiar, pervading tone of pubUo sentiment and opinion, full
of a generous confidence and pride, running through all its members. Each soldier
feels his connection with the company to which he owes allegiance, thence with the
regiment, and so with the entire corps. He is jealous of its honour, he is zealous
for its name. 4. Once more : the family relation is designed to increase the
Christian census. Children belong to the kingdom of God (see Mark z. 14). (C.
8, Bobinsouj D.D.) The law of marriage : — I. Thk nature of this contbact.
It is for life, and dissoluble only for one sin. It is subject to Divine laws. It is
mutual. It must be based upon affection. It implies the surrender of various
rights, but not of all, i.e. conscience. In case of difference of opinion, and within
proper limits, the authority is with the husband. II. Thb duties imposed by this
BBLATiON. Upon both is imposed chastity. Likewise mutual affection. Also the
duty of mutual assistance. The husband made by Scripture and by law the head
of the domestic society; hence the duty of submission. Virtue and dignity of
submission. {Dr. Way land.) God's law greater than man's : — We are here taught
that marriage, being an institution of God, is subject to His laws alone, and not to
the laws of man. Hence the civil law is binding upon the conscience only in so far
as it corresponds to the law of God. (Ibid.) Influence of a Christian wife : —
There was a company of rough men together at one o'clock one night, and a man
says : '* My wife is a Christian, and if I should go home at this hour, and order her
to get as an entertainment, she would get it with good cheer, and without one word
of censure." They laughed at him, and said she would not. They laid a wager,
and started for his home, and they knocked at one or two o'clock in the morning.
The Christian wife came to the door, and her husband said : " Get us something to
eat 1 get it right away 1 " She said : " What shall I get ? " And he^ ordered the
bill of fare, and it was provided without one word of censure. After his roystering
companions had gone out of the house, he knelt down and said : ** Oh 1 forgive me I
I am wicked 1 I am most wicked ! Get down and pray for me ! " and before the
morning dawned on the earth, the pardon of Christ had dawned on that man.
Why ? His wife was a thorough Christian. He could not resist the power of her
Christian influence. {Br. Talmage.) Marriage: — The special duties belonging
to marriage are love and affection. Love is the marriage of the affections. ^ There
is, as it were, but one heart in two bodies. Love lines the yoke and makes it easy ;
it perfumes the marriage relation. Like two poisons in one stomach, one is ever
Bi(^ of the other. In marriage there is mutual promise of living together faithfully
according to God's holy ordinance. Among the Romans, on the day of marriage,
the woman presented to her husband fire and water : signifying, that as fire refines.
and water cleanses, she would Uve with her husband in chastity and sincerity.
{Thomas Watson.) A cure for divorces: — A gentlemen who did not Live very
happily with his wife decided to procure a divorce, and took advice on the subject
from an intimate friend — a man of high social standing. ♦ ' Go home and court your
wife for a year," said this wise adviser, " and then tell me the result." They bowed
in prayer, and separated. When a year passed away, the once-complaining husband
called again to see his friend, and said : " I have called to thank you for the good
advice you gave me, and to tell you that my wife and I are as happy as when first
we were married. I cannot be grateful enough for your good counsel." *' I am glad
to hear it, dear sir," said the other, "and I hope you will continue to court your wife
as long as you live." The marriage tie and the married life : — The sacred institu-
tion of marriage has been fiercely assailed. The attempt is to shake off the authority
of the great God who made and rules all things. Thus with regard to marriage, men
tell us it is simply an agreement between two persons, which the State takes notice of
only for the sake of public convenience, like it does of the lease of % house. This
388 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chaf. x.
leaves ont of view the most powerful part of matrimony — ^the religions. Tme» ii
is a legal engagement ; but it is also a solemn engagement before Ood. ** Whom
God hath joined together," Ac See, the golden links of matrimony are of heavenly
temper. What hand can be so impious as to try to burst them asunder t The law
of God has been transgressed of late years by the doctrine of polygamy so boldly
proclaimed by the Mormon blasphemy. Everywhere Christ and His apostles speiJb
of one wife ; as the great God only created one man and one woman. It is a solemn
moment when two immortal beings venture out on life's stormy sea in the bark of
matrimony, with no aid but their own to help them. A mistake iu matrimony is a
nnstake for life. Do not Christians find it important to avoid the friendship of the
irreligious; what then is likely to be the effect of marriage with the ungodly f
Married life is a detector of the real character. After marriage, faults are dis-
covered, perhaps, to be greater than was expected, and excellences less. Disap-
pointment springs up ; contempt follows. Do you find much yon did not expect f
Kemember you also are showing much that was not expected, and as you do not like
in consequence of your faults to cease to be loved, so also do not let the faults yoo
see kill your own love. Do not gloomily meditate on each other's failings, for that
will make them seem greater than they are. If you would see your life partner's
faults amended, you should set the example by amending your own. Gentleness,
firmness, forbearance, cheerfulness, openness, must be the chains with which husband
and wife try to keep marriage love from escaping. 1. The want of experience is
often a great hindrance to the happiness of married life ; hence it frequently happens
that the first years of married life are not the happiest. 2. The married life is
often disturbed by the extravagance and folly of the husband or wife ; for difificulties
arise therefrom, and much bitterness is likely to spring up. Love is the universal
law of marriage. Love will not easily find fault or rashly give offence. Poverty
cannot quench it. The Christian rule for all applies doubly to man and wife — "weep
with them that weep, and rejoice with them that rejoice." Different dispositions
and tastes may sometimes make mutual sympathy difficult. The sympathy of love
and the sympathy of taste are distinct things. A source of unhappiness in married
life is the habit of dwelling on individual right instead of remembering that love
should not measure the service it bestows, nor that it receives. If difference of
opinion does arise, the Christian duty is for the wife to yield. The marriage life
was intended to promote human happiness ; but it brings with it peculiar duties,
and the happiness marriage was intended to impart will be wanting, if the duties of
the married life are neglected. {A. Bibhy^ M.A.)
Vers. 13-16. And they brought young: children to Bim.—Bringing children to
Jesus .'-feWe know what it was to bring a little child to Jesus when He wfts on
earth; we may ask what it is now, and wherein the difference consists. Qf^^lN
REOABD TO THE CHILDBEN THEMSELVES. It is a commou expression on the hps of
good people to bid children to •• come to Jesus." This cannot mean exactly the
same as when Jesus was sitting in the house. The child saw Jesus with his bodily
eye, might mark the kindly light in it, and be encouraged by the kindly smile that
played around His Hps. There could not be in the children on that day anything
hke what we now call a spiritual feeling, any doubts or difficulties as to what was
raeaht by coming to Jesus. In more advanced years the notion of what is spiritual
may be gradually developed in the mind, but in the tender time of childhood,
religious ideas shonld be presented to children in forms that are true and natural
to them. Let them feel that they are the children of the great unseen Father ;
that they have a Saviour and Friend; but beware how you mix up with that
religious teaching a philosophy of human invention.^ Children are patterns of
simplicity ; do not reverse this picture. II. What is the diffebrncb between
BRINGING A CHILD IN ChBIST'b DAY TO JeSUS AND BBINGINO HIM NOW 7 What is the
difference to the child himself, and what to the parents ? ^ At that time the parents
saw whether the child was accepted ; saw Christ bless the child ; it was a matter
ef sight, not of faith. Now it is matter of faith.j^ One would like to know the
ground of the rebuke administered by the disciples. Perhaps the parents were
interrupting the teaching of Christ, or the disciples thought that the placing of
Christ's hands on the children could do them no good. The objections of modem
disciples are of the same nature. The action of Christ, as well as His words, is
a rebuke to such. He does not say, " Take these children hence, they can get no
good from Me. Bring them to Me when they can express assent to My teaching.**
His words tell as that before the age of understanding God can do the child good.
1.] ST. MARK.
What is meant by " receiving the kingdom of Ctod as a little child " ? There are
elements of a child's life which cannot be continued in the life of manhood ; but
there are outstanding characteristics of childhood which must be seen in those who
receive the kingdom of God. 1. He refers to naturalness, truthfulness, or single^
mindedness, as opposed to the spirit of artifice or duplicity. The child's nature
comes out, unmindful of pain or pleasure to others, he speaks what is in him.
His mind is a perfect mirror, throwing back all that falls on it, and he is utterly
unconscious of any wish to give an undue colouring to his feelings or desires. He
does not pretend to like what he hates ; to beUeve what he does not believe ; he is
true to himself. Whosoever would receive the kingdom of God as a little child
must be true to nature, the new nature, and be simple and sincere. How much
more straightforward would the path be to the kingdom, and in the kingdom, if
men would only renounce the crooked policy which they learn in the world. 2. The
element of trust. {A. Watson, D.D.) Children welcomed to Christ : — 1. The
danger of sin standing in the way of children coming to Christ. Few persons are
aware of the extent to which children, even very young children's minds, are
capable of being affected, prejudiced, distorted, by the conversation which they
hear. Children cannot balance and dismiss a subject as you do. It has fallen with
fearful impression. But some cast obstacles less offensively, but perhaps more
dangerously. They render religion repulsive to children. Where is that cheerful-
ness which a child loves, and in which real religion always consists ? What ought
to come as a pleasure you force as a duty ; you are seveia when you ought to be
encouraging ; abstract when you should be practical. ^Xl) Thb dutt of bbinoino
CHILDREN TO Ghbist. Impressions made in childhood are sure to creep out in after
life. Let them feel that at any point of life they have to do with Jesus. Your
clijld has told a lie. Tell him, '* Jesus is Truth." This is leading him to Christ.
(XII^ ' Wk oubselves must bk like little ohildbbn. Be quite a child, and you will
soon be quite a saint. {J. Vaughan, M.A.) The Saviour's invitation to little
children :—Yfhy does the Saviour show such tender affection for children?
1. Because they have a confiding trust in God. 2. Because they have a holy fear
of God. 3. Because they have no false shame. 4. Because they have the spirit
of humihty. 6. Because they have the spirit of love. {J. H. Norton, D.D.)
The child's gospel : — ** O mother," said a little girl, on returning from church, and
running into her mother's sick room, ** I have heard the child's gospel to-day 1 "
It was the very part which I am now preaching about. Another, about seven years
old, heard the same passage read when she was near death, and, as her sister
closed the book, the little sick one said, *' How kind 1 I shall soon go to Jesus. He
will take me up in His arms, and bless me, too I " The sister tenderly kissed her,
and asked, *' Do you love me, dearest?" **Yes," she answered, "but, don't be
angry, I love Jesus more." {Ibid.) Parental love: — The poet Lamartine, in
alluding to his father and mother, says, " I remember once to have seen the
branch of a willow, which had been torn by the tempest's hands from the parent
trunk, floating in the morning light upon the angry surges of the overflowing
Saone. On it a female nightingale covered her nest, as it drifted down the foaming
stream ; and the male on the wing followed the wreck which was bearing away the
object of his love." Beautiful illustration, indeed, of the tender affection of
parents for their children. ^Much, however, as father and mother love their
offspring, there is One whose feelings towards them are inflnitely stronger and
more enduring. ^ I hardly need explain that I refer to our adorable Saviour. (Ibid.)
The sin of keeping back children from Christ : — I: It should be noted carefully that
the parties who objected to the bringing Uttle children to Christ were not Scribes
and Pharisees, the unbelieving Jews who recognized nothing Divine in the mission
of our Lord, but actually His disctples. They perhaps considered it entailing
unnecessary fatigue on their Master, that He should have to receive the young as
well as the old ; or that no suf&cient end was to be answered by bringing little
children to Christ. They would have understood the use of bringing a lame child
to Him, though too young to exercise faith ; but they had no idea of a child in
bodily health deriving any advantage from contact with Christ. The parents
judged better than the disciples, knowing that by God's express command th*
rite of circumcision was administered to infants, they concluded, as we may
snppose, that infancy of itself was no disqualiflcation for a religious privilege, and
that if there was anything spiritual in the mission of Christ, it might be com-
municated to the young as well as the old. If we delay religious instruction, under
the idea that it ia too dif&colt or too abBtmse for a very young mind, are we not
890 THR BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. x.
acting in mnoh the same way as the disciples r In after life there is no greater
impediment to religion than the want of proper habits of self-discipline and
control. It may therefore be justly considered, that whatever tends to the forming
such habits facilitates the coming to our Lord for His blessing. Then, what want
of faith is there in the education of children. Parents are actually suspicions of
the Bible, even when desirous of instilling its truths into their children. ^ They run
to good books to make the Bible easy and amusing, whose business it is to dilute
and simplify the Word, ridding it of mysteries, and adapting it to juvenile under-
standings. But this is virtually withholding the children from Christ. Eemember
that for the most part what is mystery to a child is to a man. If I strive to make
intelligible what ought to be left mysterious, I do but nourish in the child the
notion of his being competent to understand all truth, and prepare him for being
disgusted if he finds himself in riper years called upon to submit reason to faith.
Do not let it seem to you a harsh accusation— consider it well, and you will have to
confess it grounded upon truth — that whensoever there is dilatoriness in com-
mencing the correction of tempers, which too plainly prove the corruption of
nature, or the substitution of other modes of instruction for the Bible itself, or any
indication, more or less direct, of a feeling that there must be something
intermediate, that children are not yet ready for the being brought actually to the
Saviour, we identify your case with that of our Lord's disciples, who, when some
sought for infants the benediction of Christ, rashly and wrongfully " rebuked those
that brought them." U. But now let us mark more particularly oitb blesbeo
Lord's conduct, in begabd to the childeen and those who would have kept them
from Him. When he observed the endeavour of the disciples to prevent the
children being brought, you read that "He was much displeased." The origin^
word marks great indignation. It is used on one or two other occasions in the
New Testament, when very strong feelings were excited. For example, " When the
chief priests and scribes saw the wonderful things that He did, and the children
crying in tiie temple, and saying, Hosanna, to the Son of David, they were tore
di$pUased : " it is the same Greek word. Again : on the occasion of the woman's
pouring on Christ's head an alabaster box of very precious ointment, ** when His
disciples saw it, they had indignation " — the same word — " saying. To what
purpose is tiiis waste ? " These instances show you that the word denotes a very
high degree of dissatisfaction, anger being more excited than sorrow, as though the
thing done were specially offensive and criminal. It is never again used in connec-
tion with Christ ; Christ is never again said to have been •' much " or " sorely
displeased." On the occasion of having little children kept from Him, but on no
other occasion, did Christ show Himself *' sorely displeased." What an indication
of His wiUingness to receive little children I Wbat a declaration as to the duty of
bringing to Him little children ; and the sinfulness, in any measure or on any
account, of withholding them from Him I And, perhaps, many children would go
to Christ, il they were but suffered to go. Christ draws their young hearts ; but
how often are serious thoughts discouraged in children ! How little advantage is
taken of indications of youthful piety 1 Then, again, what inconsistencies they
perceive in those around theml and who quicker than children in detecting
inconsistencies ? They are as sharp-sighted in their discernment of the faults of
their superiors, as if they had been bom critics, or bred up for censors. But
inconsistencies will stop them, just when they might be determining on taking the
first step towards Christ ; and we do not ** suffer " them to go, if by anything in
our example we interfere with their going, putting some sort of hindrance — and it
need not be a high one for young feet to stumble at. Yea, and we may actually
** forbid them." This is our Lord's next expression ; and it indicates more active
opposition than when He only requires us to suffer. Evidently the worldly-minded
parent or instructor forbids the children from coming to Christ, when he discoun-
tenances any religious tendency ; when he manifests his fear of a young person
becoming too serious, too fond of reading the Bible, too disposed to avoid gay
amusements, and cultivate the society of such as care for the soul. This is the
more open sort of forbidding. Not but what there is a yet more open: when
children or young persons are actually prevented from what they are inclined to do
in the matter of religion, and forced into scenes and associations which they feel
to be wrong. It is not thus, however, that " disciples" — any who may be parallel
with those to whom our Lord addressed His remonstrance — are likely to prevent
little children. But are there no other ways of forbidding t Indeed, a young mind
is very easily discouraged ; more espeoiaJly in snoh a thing as xehgion, toiwdf
. z.] 8T, MARK, 391
which it needs every possible help, and from which it may be said to have a natural
swerving. A look will be enough ; the slightest hint ; nay, even silence will have
the force of a prohibition. There may be needed a stem command to withhold
from an indulgence, but a mere glance of the eye may withhold from a duty. Not
to encourage, may be virtually^ to forbid. The child soon catches this ; he soon
detects the superior anxiety which the parent exhibits for his progress in what is
called learning, the comparative coldness as to his progress in piety. He quickly
becomes aware of the eye being lit up with greater pleasure at an indication of
talent, than at a sign of devotion. And thus the child is practically ** forbidden '*
to come to Christ. He is practically told that there is something preferable to his
coming to Christ. (H. Melvill, B.D.) Ofsttch U the kingdom of God : — Perhaps
God does with His heavenly garden as we do with our own. He may chiefly stock
it from nurseries, and select for transplanting what is yet in its young and tender
age — flowers before they have bloomed, the trees ere they begin to bear. (T. Guthrie^
D.D.) The conversion of little children: — 1. Because they are not too young
to do wrong. 2. Because the regeneration of children or adults is the work of the
Holy Spirit. 3. Because piety is a matter of the heart, rather than of the
intellect. 4. Special examples found in God's Word. 5. It is a pleasing confirma-
tion of our faith in very early piety to observe the many instances within our own
observation of the conversion of young children, and of their teachable spirit with
reference to religion. IS. S. Portwin.) The love of Christ to children: — I. It is
very old. II. It is all-embracing. IH. It is all-sufficing. {Anon.) Teachers
warned against impeding children's salvation: — The impediments which teachers
throw in the way of children coming to Jesus. I. Inadequate feett. U. Incom-
petent ENOWLEDOE of the gospcl. 1. YouT knowledge must spring from faith.
2. It must be derived from scripture. III. Injudicious modes of instbuction.
1. Loading the memory with scripture without explanation. 2. Lengthened
addresses in which children take no part. IV. An impbopeb spibit. 1. Impatience.
2. Pride. 3. Selfishness. V. Inconsistent conduct. 1. Want of punctuality.
2. Gossiping. {J. Sherman.) Jesus and children: — 1. The text teaches that
Jesus is attractive to children. 2. That Christ takes a deep interest in children.
8. Jesus prays for children. 4. Jesus wishes children to be happy, and they could
not be that without pardon. 5. There are a great many children in heaven.
{Dr. McAuslane.) ( Jesus and children: — There was one thing about Jesus which
no one could fail to notice — His great popularity with children. A certain fulness
of humanity always seems to attract children. In Jesus this constituted an
irresistible attraction. They ran after Him — they clung to Him — they shouted for
Him. His must have been a joyous presence. Different from your sour-faced
Puritan (who has his merits notwithstanding) : your dried-up theologian (who is
needful, too, in season) : your emaciated ascetic (whose protest against sensuality
is sometimes necessary and even noble). I thmk this power of attracting and
interesting the little ones is one of the haU-marks of good men. The children's
unspoiled natures seem to cling to unspoiled souls — as like cleaves to like.l " They
brought young children to Christ." Ah 1 there was no need of that, for they cam^
to Him of their own accord — nor did He ever repulse them. How shall we bring
the children to Christ — how shall we win them to love and follow Him t The best
way of bringing our children to Christ is by being Christ-Hke ourselves. Let them
see in us nothing but His kindness, wisdom, strength, tenderness, and sympathy,
and they will learn to love their religion, and grow close to Jesus, as in the days
when " He took them up in His arms, laid His hands upon them, and blessed
them." {H. R. Haweis, M.A.) Christ's sympathy for childhood : —Jesus was the
first great teacher of men who showed a genuine sympathy for childhood — perhaps
the only teacher of antiquity who cared for childhood as such. Plato treats of
children and their games, but he treats them from the standpoint of apubUcist.
They are elements not to be left out in constructing society. Children, in Plato's
eyes, are not to be neglected, because children wUl inevitably come to be men and
women. But Jesus was the first who loved childhood for its own sake. In the
earlier stages of civilization it is the main endeavour of men to get away from
childhood. It represents immaturity of body and mind, ignorance and folly. The
ancients esteemed it their first duty to put away childish things. It was Jesus
who, seeking to bring about a new and higher development of character, perceived
that there were elements in childhood to be preserved in the highest manhood ;
that a man must, indeed, set back again towards the innocence and simplicity of
childhood if he would be truly a man. Until Jesus Christ, the world had no place
8M THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOB, [chap. X.
for childhood in its thoughts. When He said, " Of snoh is the kingdom of God,*
it was a revelation. (Eggleston.) ( Bring the children to the Saviour: — In •
Chinese Christian family at Amoy, a little boy, the youngest of the three children,
on asking his father to aUow him to be baptized, was told that he was too yonng;
that he might return to heathenism, if he made a profession of religion when he
was only a little boy. To this he made the following touching reply : — " Jesus has
promised to carry the lambs in His arms. I am only a little boy ; it will be easier
for Jesus to carry me." This was too much for the father ; he took him with him,
and the dear child was ere long baptized.) The whole family, of which this child is
the youngest member, belong now to the mission church at Amoy. The
Saviour's love for children reciprocated: — A little girl, between six and seven years
of age, when on her death-bed, seeing her eldest sister with a Bible in her hand,
asked her to read this passage respecting Christ's blessing little children. The
passage having been read, and the book closed, the child said, " How kind 1 I
shall soon go to Jesus ; He will soon take me up in His arms, bless me, too ; no
disciple shall keep me away." Her sister kissed her, and said, " Do you love me? *'
•* Yes, dear," she replied, " but you mustn't mind that I love Jesus better." (Care
in training children: — What if God should place in your hand a diamond, and tell
you to inscribe on it a sentence which should be read at the last day, and shown
there as an index of your thoughts and feelings ! What care, what caution, would
yon exercise in the selection 1 Now this is what God has done. He has placed
before you immoiial minds, more imperishable than the diamond, on which yon
are about to inscribe every day and every hour, by your instructions, by your spirit,
or by your example, something which wUl remain and be exhibited for or against
.vou at the judgment day/ (Dr. Payaon.) Children need to be brought to
Christ : — The apostles' rebuke of the children arose in a measure from ignorance
of the children's need. If any mother in that throng had said, " I must bring my
child to the Master, for he is sore afflicted with a devil," neither Peter, nor James,
nor John would have demurred for a moment, but would have assisted in bringing
the possessed child to the Saviour. Or suppose another mother had said, "My
child has a pining sickness upon it, it is wasted to skin and bone ; permit me to
bring my darling, that Jesus rnay lay His hands upon her," the disciples would aU
have said, •• Make way for this woman and her sorrowful burden." But these little
ones with bright eyes, and prattling tongues, and leaping limbs, why should they
come to Jesus ? Ah, friends 1 they forgot that in those children, with all their joy,
their health, and their apparent innocence, there was a great and grievous need
for the blessing of a Saviour's grace. (C. H. Spurgeon.) The sin of keeping
children from coming to Christ : — It must be a very great sin indeed to hinder any-
body from coming to Christ. He is the only way of salvation from the wrath of
God, salvation from the terrible judgment that is due to sin— who would dare to
keep the perishing from that way ? To alter the sign-posts on the way to the city
of refuge, or to dig a trench across the road, would have been an inhuman act,
deserving the sternest condemnation. He who holds back a soul from Jesus is the
servant of Satan, and is doing the most diabolical of all the devil's work. We are
all agreed about this. I wonder whether any of us are quite innocent in this
respect. May we not have hindered others from repentance and faith 7 It is a sad
suspicion ; but I am afraid that many of us have done so. Certainly you who have
never believed in Jesus yourselves have done sadly much to prevent others believing.
The force of example, whether for good or bad, is very powerful, and especially is
it so with parents upon their children, superiors upon their imderlings, and
teachers upon their pupils, {Ibid.) Children the pastor's chief care: — Dr.
Tyng, senior, of New York, said that in aU his ministry he had never hesitated,
when the choice must be made between one child and two adults, to take the child.
••It seems to me," he says, "that the devil would never ask anything more of a
minister than to have him look upon his mission as chiefly to the grown-np
members of his congregation, while somebody else was to look after the children.
I can see the devil standing at the door, and saying to the minister, * Now you just
Are away at the old folks ; and I'll stand here, and steal away the little ones as the
Indians catch ducks, swimming under them, catching them by the legs, and pulling
them under.' " Children to be brought into the Church at earliest age: — ^Now let ni
Bee how this theory works. I nnot show its evil e£Fects better than by taking tat
illustration from the first book I ever read— *• ^sop's Fables." It is long since I
saw the book, but its pages are vividly impressed on my memory, especially the
pictures, and here ia one of them. A fisherman is sitting on the btuik of a stream.
X.] ST. MARK.
He has thrown in his bait, and brought out a very little fish. He has the fish in
his hand, and is just about to put it into his basket, when the fish begins to talk.
He is sitting up in the man's hand, and addressing himself to the fisherman,
speaks on this wise : " You see I am a very little fish. It is not worth your while
to put me into the basket. Throw me back into the stream, and I shall become a
bigger fish, and much better worth catching." But the fisherman says : *• No ; if
I throw you into the stream, it is most likely that I shall never see you again. I
wUl keep you whilst I have got you." And so he puts the fish into the basket.
The wrong theory is the theory of the fish, the right one that of the fisherman.
Now I ask you to consider this. In the present day we have vast multitudes of
children under Christian teaching and influence. A careful estimate gives the
present number of scholars in the Sunday schools of England and Wales as over
4,000,000 ; and there are very many children well taught in Christian homes who
are not in the Sunday schools. There is also provision made in our elementary
day schools for over 4,000,000 scholars. Now these children are, so to speak, yet in
the basket of the Church, and we should use our utmost efforts to prevent them
from ever getting out of it. According to the great Teacher the little ones belong to
the kingdom of God in their earliest days. Why should they ever leave it ? But,
alas t instead of acting in accordance with the true theory, we too often act as if
the wrong theory were true. We are not so anxious as we ought to be to
bring our children at the earliest possible moment into the enjoyment of peace
with God through faith in our Lord Jesus Christ. We are not so careful as we
ought to be to provide that before a child leaves school and his parents' home he
shall be fortified against the temptations of life by established faith in Christ.
On the salvation of all dying before the age of accountability : — I. The conduct of
THB PARENTS WAS VEBY NATURAL AND COMMENDABLE. " They brought youug chUdren
to Jesus," &0. Just as Joseph brought his sons to Jacob, that he might lay his
hands upon them and bless them. His blessing would be sure to make rich
in one way or another. These parents did not send their children to Jesus, but
brought them ; example better than precept. Let us not stop short of the Saviour.
Morality good : but they must be born again. II. The spirit and demeanour of
THB disciples WERE VERY REPULSIVE — " They rcbukod those that brought them. "
What if the parents had judged of the Master by the spirit of His servants ? There
is love in His heart infinitely transcending all that exists in the hearts of His most
devoted people. HI. The conduct op Jesus Christ was a perpect contrast to that
OP His disciples. " He was much displeased." Christ may be angry with His own
people, even when they think they are doing Him service. It is not enough to mean
well. Is it any wonder that Christ should feel an interest in little children when He
voluntarily became a little child Himself ? " Of such " — in years — " is the kingdom
of heaven." All infants go to heaven. The lost will go away into *' everlasting
punishment," but an infant cannot be punished, for that would imply personal
criminahty and conscious guilt : but an infant can neither do good nor evil. But
may they not be annihilated ? This passage kindles light in their little sepulchre
and says, *• Of such is the kingdom of heaven." They Uve unto God. The only
difference between the salvation of an infant and others, is this — the infant is
saved without faith, by the direct agency of the Holy Spirit, in consequence of the
finished work of Christ ; others are saved by believing the gospel, and being sancti-
fied through the truth. See the condescension of Christ. We cannot bless them as
He did ; we can plead for the Divine blessing upon them. {R, Bayne.) The
talvation of infants : — Infants are all saved. 1. Our remarks apply exclusively to
ehildren who are not yet arrived at years of accountability ; that is, who are not yet
capable of employing the appointed means of salvation. 2. It is not said that the
children of believers and of unbelievers are in all respects in the same case ; on the
contrary the relative holiness of the children of believers is an important blessing ;
their circumstances are more favourable to the formation of a religious character ;
their means of salvation are more direct. But the child of a believer has no other
claim on the mercy of God than that may be put in by any infant. I. Statb the
ABeuMSNT IN FAVOUR OP INPANT SALVATION. Considerations which may suggest this
hope. 1. They are not accountable. They are incapable of moral obligation,
hence are not condemned : free from personal guilt. Does it comport with the
Divine Justice or mercy, to suppose that such are not saved whose only guilt is their
unavoidable connection with a broken covenant ? The benevolence of the Divine
character suggests the hope of their salvation ; and embraces infants in the redeem-
ing purpose. The rectitude of the Divine (government suggests their salvation ;
394 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. x.
they cannot be healed according to their deeds who have neither done good nor eviL
There are many general expressions of Divine favour towards infants ; God contem*
plates their advantage in the blessings He confers on mankind (Psa. Ixxviii. 6, 6 ;
Deut. xii. 28 ; Jer. xix. 3, 9). He spared Nineveh for their sake (Jonah iv. 11).
2. There are gracious declarations of the Word of God which imply this trutli
(Matt, xviii. 1, 14). That infants are capable of receiving the principle of faith is
plain ; Jeremiah and John Baptist have been sanctified from the womb. The
Jewish children were accounted worshippers of the true God, even from their
infancy (Deut. xxix. 10, 13 ; v. 3 ; 2 Chron. xx. 18 ; Joel ii. 15, 16). And so under
the Christian dispensation children are viewed as believers, because visibly connected
with the dispensation, and continue to be so accounted till they renounce it as their
religion. Christ would not recognize as subjects of His kingdom here, those whom
He did not regard as heirs of His kingdom hereafter. *• Of such i$ the kingdom of
God." Romans v. 12, 19 appears to involve this truth. It places in contrast the
dispensations under which God has governed man ; one at creation, the other at
redemption. The curse of the broken covenant included the children ; the saving
benefit provided by Christ extends to them. ** As in Adam all die, even so in Christ
shall all be made alive again." 3. There are some recorded instances of faith in thii
truth, which support the conclusion (2 Sam. xii. 22, 23 ; 2 Kings iv). II. Examine
SOME OF THB DimCULTIES WHICH APPEAB TO LIB IN THE WAY OF ADOPTING THIS CON-
CLUSION. 1. The imputation of Adam's sin. The doctrine of infant salvation doea
not deny this, but declares that the grace of God frees from the curse, and bestows
the capacity for celestial happiness, through the mediation of Christ. 2. The
temporal si^erings and death of infants. Because they suffer some of the effects ol
the curse it by no means follows that they suffer all. Actual believers suffer in this
world. 8. The destruction of the children of the ungodly along with their parents.
The case of Eorah. 4. The declared necessity of faith in order to salvation. A new
heart is the qualification for heaven, and may as easily be given to an infant as to
an adult. 5. The early indications of sinfulness in infants. It is not easy^ to
determine bow far these are the result of animal propensities or deliberate choice.
It is not said that infants are free from tendency to evil, or even apparent acts ol
sin ; but are saved through Christ whose sacrifice puts away sin. 6. The silence of
scripture. III. The practical intluencb of this tbuth. 1. Let it be viewed
generally in its aspect on the moral government of God. (1) It relieves the diffi-
culty connected with the permission of sin. (2) It reflects the glory of Divine graoe.
(3) It illustrates the declared importance of the mediation of Christ. 2. Let this
truth be viewed in its aspect on tiie religious education of children. No excuse for
the neglect of it. 3. Let this doctrine be viewed in its aspect on the seriousness of
bereaved parents. {J. Jefferson.) The death of babes : — The whole case of the
death of babes seems at the first thought to be indeed a marvel ; yet what is there
in life which is not a marvel ? How few things there are which we can regard in
any other light than that of unintelligent, though not unreasonable, wonder. StUl,
few things seem more marvellous in the rough aspect than that a little child should
be allowed to suffer pain and die. Here is a little bud, a tender nursling of the
spring, in the fairest way for flower, fragrance, and fruit, nipped by that bitter
envious frost before a single leaf unfolds itself. Here is a little barque, freighted
with costly wares for the markets of earth and heaven, bound for eternity, launched
into life and wrecked at the very harbour-mouth. A work nobly simple, yet beauti-
fully complex, with God's fresh breath of life inspiring its every look, and the power
of the sweetest nature swaying its every movement ; lo 1 it drops from His hand, as
it might seem, in the very act of His holding it np to show its beauty to the world.
It falls to pieces in an hour. The high art of its creation is negatived in a moment ;
its lovely mechanism siles off into dust ; aU its myriad contrivances for life — no one
of which any man since the world began can imitate with the slightest effect, no,
nor even rightly understand — in a few days are crumbled into mould, and as 11
they never had been at all. In fine, a work designed for duties of seventy or eighty,
or perhaps a hundred vears, capable of beautiful deeds, and of fiUing happy places
in the house, the neighbourhood, the State, and all along in the family of the
Church, is destroyed, as it might seem, by some slight accident, before any one
of those duties has been met ; and, to outward view, annihilated as though it
had never been meant for anything whatsoever in the world. (FT. B. Philpott M,A»)
Ver. 16. Am a Uttto tibn&,^InteUeetual submistUm :— " Chrysostom,'* nji
Manton, '* has the following comparison : * A smith that takes up his red-hot iros
X.] ST. MARK,
with his hands, and not with his tongs, what can he expect but to bum his fingers ?*
So we destroy our souls, when we judge of the mysteries of faith by the laws of com-
mon reason." Common enough is this error. Men must needs comprehend
when their main business is to apprehend. That which God reveals to us is, to a
large extent, beyond the reach of understanding ; and therefore, in refusing to
believe until we can understand, we are doing ourselves and the truth a grievous
wrong. Our wisdom lies as much in taking heed how we receive, as in being care-
ful wJuit we receive. Spiritual truth must be received by a spiritual faculty, viz.,
by faith. As well hope to grasp a star by the hand as Divine truth by reason.
Faith is well likened to the golden tongs, with which we may carry live coals ; and
carnal reason is the burned hand, which lets fall the glowing mass, which it is
not capable of carrying. Let it not, however, be thought that faith is contrary to
reason. No : it is not unreasonable for a little child to believe its father's state-
ments, though it is quite incapable of perceiving all their bearings. It is quite
reasonable that a pupil should accept his master's principles at the beginning of
his studies ; he will get but little from his discipleship if he begins by disputing
with his teacher. How are we to learn anything if we will not believe ? In the
gloriously sublime truths of Godhead, incarnation, atonement, regeneration, and so
forth, we must believe, or be for ever ignorant : these masses of the molten metal
of eternal truth must be handled by faith, or let alone. {C. H. Spurgeon.)
Necessity of humility : — A high-caste Brahmin came to receive Holy Baptism. He
approached the font wearing the sacred thread which, amongst his Hindoo co-
religionists, was the badge of his being amongst the •* twice-born," entitling him to
little short of religious worship from those of a lower caste. But at the moment
when he answered, " I renounce them all," he stripped off the sign of idolatrous pre-
eminence and trampled it under his feet. Childlike trust in prayer: — People say,
" What a wonderful thing it is that God hears George Miiller's prayers 1 " But is
it not a sad thing that we should think it wonderful for God to hear prayer ? We
are come to a pretty pass certainly when we think it wonderful that God is true !
^Much better faith was that of a little boy in one of the schools at Edinburgh, who
had attended the prayer meetings, and at last said to his teacher who conducted the
meeting, " Teacher, I wish my sister could be got to read the Bible ; she never
reads it." " Why, Johnny, should your sister read the Bible ? " " Because if she
should once read it, I am sure it would do her good, and she would be converted and
be saved." ** Do you think so, Johnny? " " Yes, I do, sir ; and I wish the next
time there's a prayer meeting, you would ask the people to pray for my sister, that
she may begin to read the Bible." " Well, well, it shall be done, John." So the
teacher gave out that a little boy was very anxious that prayers should be offered
that his sister should begin to read the Bible. John was observed to get up and go
out. The teacher thought it very unkind of the boy to disturb the people in a
crowded room and go out like that, and so the next day when the lad came, he
said, " John, I thought that was very rude of you to get up in the prayer meeting,
and go out. You ought not to have done it." " Oh, sir," said the boy, " I did not
mean to be rude, but I thought I should just like to go home and see my sister
reading her Bible for the first time." That is how we ought to believe, and wait
with expectation to see the answer to prayer. The girl was Heading the Bible when
the boy went home. God had been pleased to hear the prayer ; and if we could
but trust God after that fashion we should often see simUar things accomplished.)
(C. H. Spurgeon.^ A dying blessing ; — A few days previous to his death, Dr.
Belfrage, of Falkirk, hearing his infant son's voice in an adjoining room, desired
that he should be brought to him. When the child was lifted into the bed the dying
father placed his hands upon his head, and said, in the language of Jacob, " The
God before whom my fathers did walk, the God who fed me all my life long to this
day, the Angel who redeemed me from all evil, bless the lad.*' When the boy was
removed he added : " Remember and tell John Henry of this ; tell him of these
prayers, and how earnest I w s that he might become early acquainted with his
father's Qod." Happy are th who have their parents' prayers.
Vers. 17-22.— <}ood Master, what shall I do that I may Inherit eternal lift f
The great refusal: — I. We have here an inquirkb. There are many things about
him which awaken interest. H was young, thoughtful, an inquirer after the most
momentoos matter that can engage the attention of a man ; not after methods of
worldly sucoess, speculative or ntiquarian subjects. II. How Jesus dealt witb
TBI TOUMo MAH. Christ "knew what was in man." He yaried His treatment of
896 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. >
inquirers so as to meet the character, history, and disposition of each. He touched
the conscience always in the quick. To Nicodemus : woman at the well. This young
man had a narrow view of the commandments; he did not love God with all his heart.
Christ put before him the same alternative which, in many different forms, He puts
before some of His people yet in the dispensation of His providence. The one thing
needful is always entire self-surrender to God. IH. The conversational comment
OF THE Saviour on the youno man's decision. "How hardly shall they that
have riches," <fec. He does not mean to say that wealth is a bad thing. Intrin-
sically riches have no moral character ; all depends upon the use. Our Lord does
not mean to say that it is an absolutely easy thing for a man that has no riches to
enter the kingdom of God. Poverty has spirittial perils. It is not the amount of a
man's possessions, but the view which he entertains regarding them, that deter-
mines whether he will, or not, enter the kingdom of God. Salvation is a super-
natural work. "With God all things are possible." 1. That the whole battle of
conversion has to be fought over that which is dearest to the heart. 2. We may
see here how an experience like this youth's takes the attraction even out of that
which the heart prefers to Christ. " He went away grieved." He had discovered
his slavery, and such gladness as he had formerly known even in his possessions
dropped in a large measure out of his heart. In that one interview with Christ he
had seen, as never before, the world's power over him ; and even while he yielded to
it, he loathed it His property had a fascination for him, yet it seemed, even aa
he clung to it, the very price for which he had sold eternal life ; and he could
neither give it up, nor regard it with as much complacency as before. Just as the
drunkard in his inmost soul loathes his slavery, even while he is draining the bottle
to its dregs, and has no more such enjoyment in its stimulus as he had at first,
because that which was then a delight has now become a bondage ; so this youth,
now that he saw that his property owned him, rather than he his property, had no
longer the same delight in it as of yore. {W. M. Taylor, D.D.) Character tests: —
The chemical analyst has different tests for different poisons. If he suspect the
presence of arsenic, he will use one thing to detect that ; if he is looking for anti-
mony, he will take another to discover that ; if he is trying for strychnine, he will
employ quite another to bring that to light. The test that will reveal one poison
may altogether fail to make manifest another. Now it is quite similar with the
moral poisons which destroy the soul. Each has its own appropriate test, and that
which would reveal the presence of one would be impotent to detect another.
Hence, like a skilful analyst as He was, the Lord in dealing with this young man
used those means which He knew would be most effectual in revealing him to him-
sell He did not need to use any measures for the purpose of satisfying Himself.
He wanted rather to do for the youth what the woman at the well said He had done
for her when she affirmed «• He told me all things that ever I did." (Ibid.) Life
eternal : — What was the idea of eternal life which this young man had ? Some
understand heaven ; to others it means a particular kind of life, which even now
tills the soul. In order to know what a man means by the words yon require to
know more about him and his modes of thinking. Which of these was the yoong
man thinking of ? What was the view of eternal life which Jesus Christ had in
mind ? The eternal life was the life that was in Him. You gather an idea of the
life which is spoken of, in any case, from the specimen of it which is adduced. Tou
speak of the life of poetry as seen in one man, of the life of science as seen in
another, of the practical life of industry or benevolence as seen in a third ; and
when you read of the eternal life in Christ, you must consider His history and see
what His life was. It was not a life of ease or quiet, or one free from trouble and
suffering and care. But it was a life always manifested ; a life visible in defeat as
well as in power, in weakness as really as in honour ; a life of absolute submission
to the will of His Father ; and a life which was full of wisdom, purity, gentleness,
truth. Whatever was in the mind of Christ, the thoughts of the young ruler had
not been quite so high as this. Possibly he could not have explained the thought
to himself. Christ shows him his deficiency like a skilful physician. He has come
op to the yeiy gate of heaven, but cannot take the last step. There was a Uke crisis
in the life of St. Paul. He was in search of etema life, questioning what good
thing he should do. He learned that it could not be won by good works. " Sell
that thou hast, and give to the poor." Must not explain these words away; nor
most we apply to every case alike, or make the gosp 1, what it if not, a system of
eofwinnnism, or of pnrohase wit^ certain outlays. To lose eyerything is a calamity
whieh thousands have borne with courage. " The L rd gave, and Uie Lord hath
x.] ST. MARK, 897
taken away." They have entered the kingdom through losses and stifFerings, not ot
property only, but of possession more precious. What is that state of mind which
riches may injure. A comparatively poor man may be hurt by his wealth because
of the place it has in his mind. We dare not direct men to outward acts in order
to obtain eternal life, or to give up their property to religious uses. You may gain
In material results, but lose in spiritual. Fellowship and sympathy with God,
ihe mind that was in Christ — this is the highest possession. And if there is a
hindrance to this— avarice or anything else — let us part with it at once, rather than
obstruct the growth of our souls. {A. Watson, D.D.) The disease pointed out : —
" What lack I yet? " he said, sincerely wishing to know wherein he might approach
nearer to the standard of perfection, and thus attain the eternal life of which he
was in search. And the answer of Christ shows that He discerns at once where
the fault lies. It reminds one of a skilful physician who listens to the complaint
of a patient telling him of some weakness and want of proper energy, but not know-
ing from what it springs ; and at once the physician touches some muscle, puts
his finger on a tender spot which had been unsuspected, presses it, and says,
"Tour disease is there." The patient starts : he had never felt pain there — never
antil it was touched by that hand ; but at once he knows that the physician is
right, that he has all along been living in ignorance of the nature of his malady,
and perhaps by his habits he has been feeding it. So this young ruler feels at
once that Christ is right, but he cannot all at once make up his mind to the conse-
quences. He has power to do much — power to part with much, power to restrain
his hand and his heart from much ; but here is a tenderness he had never dreamt
of, a diseased organ which hinders the current of his life, and he cannot suffer it to
be removed. He has come up to the very gate of the kingdom, but he cannot take
the last step and enter in. {Ihid.) Eternal life a gift : — There was a strange
inconsistency in this young man's question, •♦ What shall I do to inherit eternal
life ? " Inheritances are not earned by services. They are gifts, not wages. I
have read somewhere the story of a poor woman who looked longingly at the
flowers which grew in the king's garden, wishing to buy some for her sick daughter.
The king's gardener angrily repelled her. " The king's flowers are not for sale,"
he said, rudely. But the king, chancing to come by, plucked a bouquet and gave it
to the wistful woman, remarking at the same time, " It is true the king does not
sell his flowers, but he gives them away." So, too, the Great King does not sell
eternal life. He gives it. {Lyman Abbot, D.D.) The splendid young man : —
♦* One thing thou lackest." 1. The element of happiness. Happiness does not
depend upon physical conditions. Some of the happiest people I have known have
been those who have been wrapped in consumption. There is no happiness outside
Christ ; there is joy in His service. You lack — 2. The element of usefulness. You have
not yet commenced the real service of life. You lack — 3. The element of personal
safety. There is only safety in religion. {Dr. Talmage.) A defective character : — I.
In AIiL Gbn's DEAIiINO with MBN, there is one element of BELIOIOnS CHABACTER
FOB WHICH He invariably looks. Men are influenced by a showy exterior;
God sees the heart (see 1 Sam. xvi. 6, 7). 1. What is this element ? A comparison
of the different parts of this story will answer the question. *' A little child " has
a single peculiarity as its controlling characteristic : it loves, trusts, and obeys its
parent. Its motive of life is sincere affection for him, above anything else. This
is what God demands of His children : a fuU, filial regard for Has honour. His
commandments, and His affectionate approval (Mai. i. 6). 2. How do we know
the young ruler did not possess this ? He certainly seems like a thoughtful, amiable,
virtuous person. But he owned that he still lacked something (see Matt. xix. 20).
n. Let us take np a second lesson : no other qualitt of MiNn and heart, no other
charaotbristio, no other oroupino of klements of character, can atone fob the
LACK OF JUST THIS ONE. 1. Piety is the significant disposition which registers the
value of everything else. Take any amount of ciphers, and arrange them carefully
in a line ; they will represent nothing, till you place a numeral figure at their head.
We call that a '• significant" figure ; it gives reckoning of value to all the others.
Now, with it at the head, each one of the ciphers increases it tenfold, while without
it ten times as many ciphers would go for naught. The wiser a man is, the more
distinguished a man is, the more wealthy a man is, the more lovely a man is — pro-
Tided the consecration of his entire heart is rendered — the more helpful and useful
he 18 as a Christian. But, the moment this consecration disappears, all these ad-
vantages are turned suddenly into dangers, for they work on the adverse side.
Satan's gifts helped him to be a worse devil. 2. We recognize the same principle
896 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [cha». i,
in ordinary life. Suppose a joameyman, wilful and self-satisfied, comes to one of
us, and asks for employment. We go to a master-mechanic seeking work for him
in his poverty. Each one in turn says he is well acquainted with the man, but will
have nothing to do with him. Now we begin to expostulate : " Is he not skilful f
is he not industrious ; is he not honest f is he no ia kind neighbour ? is he not
sober?** All this is true, comes the reply: "but the man will not obey orders.**
The prime quality of a workman is gone ; that lack vitiates all the rest ; he breeds
insubordination wherever he goes. His excellences simply render him dangerous.
3. The worst is, that God Himself gives all these characteristics on which moral
men pride themselves, and they wickedly turn them against Him. It has hap-
pened that one man has interfered sometimes to reconcile another man with his
disinherited son. For many years under the home roof he was unfilial, abusive,
alienated from all who loved him there. The father admits that he has rejected
him at last. The neighbour inquires, "Is he not educated, so as to be an honour
to you ? is he not a most agreeable companion ? are not his manners gentlemanly ?
is he not the very likeness of yourself in form and mien ? how can you keep hun
away from your heart? '* And the father answers in sad sincerity of pity and love :
All that you say is true ; and it was myself who gave him these accomplishments :
I educated my boys all alike, but this one turned against me ; I love him, but he
hates me ; no matter how courteous he is to strangers, he vilifies me here before
the others : till he changes from a prodigal to a son, he is only a peril and a dis-
turbance in the house : he is all the worse, in that he knows so well how to be better.'*
III. So we reach, as our third lesson this : such a dkfbctive ohabacteb as is hebb
PICTUBED HAS TO BE BECKONED ACCOBDINO TO ITS DEFECT, TO THE EXCLUSION OF ITS
EXCELLENCES. 1. There may be a very showy morality without any true religion.
Here was a man of great prominence and promise. He said he had kept the law
(Mark z. 18-20). 2. There may be a very splendid manhood without any tme
religion. 8. There may be an unquestionable orthodoxy without any tme religion.
4. There may be deep conviction of need in the soul without any true religion.
Never forget the errand of this young man, nor the manner in which he discharged
it (Mark x. 17). See his zeal : he came to Jesus. See his haste : he came nmning,
See his courage : he was out in the highway conspicuous to all. See his humility :
he kneeled at Jesus* feet. See his anxiety : he waited for no circumlocution, bat
pushed his qoestion straight towards the "eternal life'* he longed for. (C. S.
Robinsorif D.D.) The rich young man's question and carriage : — I. The opinion
OF qainino btebnal life by the outwabd obsebvance of the law, will appbab vbbt
unsatisfactobt to an inquisitive consoibnck. This young man had not any full
satisfaction in his own conscience, &o. He comes to Christ to receive instructions
for the piecing up whatever was defective. Whosoever will consider the nature
of God, and the relation of a creature cannot with reason think that eternal
life was of itself due from God as a recompense to Adam, had he continued in a
state of innocence. Who can think so great a reward due for having performed
that which a creature in that relation was obliged to do ? And if it were not to be
expected in the integrity of nature, but only from the goodness of God, how can it
be expected since the revolt of man, and the universal deluge of natural corruption ?
God owes nothing to the holiest creature ; what He gives is a present from His
bounty, not the reward of the creature's merit (Bom. xi. 35). II. It is the disease
OF HUMAN NATUBE, SINCE ITS COBBUPTION, TO HOPE FOB ETEBNAL LIFE BY THE TENOB
OF THE COVENANT OF woBKS (vcr. 17). Cain thought to be accepted for the sake of
his sacrifice. All men set too high a value upon their own services (Luke xix. 12 ;
Phil. iii. 7). The whole nation of the Jews aiffected it, compassing sea and land to
make out a righteousness of their own, as the Pharisees did to make proselytes.
Man foolishly thinks he hath enough to set np himself after he hath proved bank-
rupt, and lost all his estate. lU. How insufficient abe some assents to Divine
TRUTH, AND SOME EXPBE8SI0NS OF AFFECTION TO ChRIST, WITHOUT THE PBAOTICB OF
Christian precepts. IV. Wb should neveb admit anything to be ascbibed to
US, WHICH IS PROPBB TO GoD. If yoQ do Dot acknowledge Me God, ascribe
not to Me the title of good, &o. God is jealous of His own honour; He will
not have the creature share with Him in His royal titles. (<Sf. Chamocke^ B.D.)
Gain though loi$ : — A great gain was offered him, but a great loss was its condition,
(r. T. Lynch. Qlad though grieved : — ^As thou once camest glad and wentest away
grieved, didst thou ever come grieved and go away glad ? {Ibid.) Privilege a
trial : — Have compassion on the privileged ; for their advantage is their trial, and
may be their ruin. (Ibid.) No heaven without merit : — ^And if we cannot merit
(SAP. X.] ST, MARK. 899
heaven, we cannot have heaven without merit. (IMi.) Ebh and ^/lood;— The
ebb of this man's wealth would have been the flood of his prosperity. (Ibid.)
The beauty of an amiable character: — ^Why did He love him ? Because He saw him
as he was — pure, enthusiastic, unspoiled though unproved. It is a false and
forlorn view to take of man, that there is nothing beautiful in him before he
becomes saintly. The very attractiveness of an unredeemed soul makes us the
more keenly desirous to redeem it. But often, as a cultured tree knows nothing of
the husbandries which beautified the stock from which it sprang, and thus caused
its beauty, so youths know nothing of the spiritual husbandries of past days, to
which they are indebted for the moral attractiveness they have to others, and the
moral strength which they themselves deem sufficient. The children of Christians,
not yet Christian themselves, have by nature an advantage. Often they are more
loveable than others. But they must not trust a "nature** in themselves that
would never have been so lovely but for the *• grace** that was in their parents.
There is much in common, and even in perverted, men that has a rude native grace.
There is yet more in the sons and daughters of the sincerely pious that has a
natural hopeful bloom about it. God loves this, and so may we. But God may
love a man whom He cannot yet trust ; He may love a man who does not yet truly
know, and cannot yet deeply love. Himself. ^Ibid.) Virtue dependent upon
wealth: — He hardly knew how much of his happiness as a virtuous man depended
upon his being a rich one. People are often happy in their religion because they
are happy in their circumstances. They do well because they are well to do.
These are good people, but they are not the best sort of good people. They do
honour to religion as their very good master, and to themselves as his very good
scholars ; but they are but dry pools when the rain ceases, for no inner fountain
feeds them. They know not how much Christ can do for them without the world,
but how much he can do with the world, to help Him. All such goodness is only
hopefully good as it learns that, without trial, it cannot know that it is lastingly
good. (Ibid.) Commandment keeping : — ^Life is enjoyed in keeping the command-
ments, in doing as God would have us His creatures do. But they can only be kept
as we attain the living ability to keep them. Thus, an adult man's privileges are
enjoyed by doing as an adult man does : but a child cannot enjoy these privileges
because his abUity is not mature ; nor an invalided adult because, though fully
grown, he has not the powers of maturity. So an uneducated, uncivilized man
cannot have the life of culture, because the " commandments," the ordinances of
that life, though suitable to him as a man, are beyond his ability as such a man.
The way to keep God's commandments in future is, first of all, to learn that you
have never folly kept them yet. This young man really had kept God's law accor-
ding to his understanding of it ; and he could only be blessed as his comprehension
of tiie law and his disposition to fulfil it were advanced. But in him there was no
capacity to become a chief example of obedience to the chief laws, as there was in
Christ. (Ibid.) On characters of imperfect goodness : — I. Pebsons of this descbiptign
▲BX NOT QUALIFIEn FOB DISCHABOIMa ABIOHT MANY DUTIBS TO WHICH THEIB SITUATION
IN LiFB HAT CALL THEM. MUdness and gentleness alone are not sufficient. This is but
plastic clay to be shaped either for good or bad. U. These pebsons abb also ill-fitted
FOB BEsisTiNO THE COMMON TEMPTATIONS TO VICE. A oonstaut dcsire to pIcBsc is a
poor bulwark against the persuasions of wicked men. HI. Thet abb also unpbe-
PABED FOB SUSTAINING THE mSTBESSES TO WHICH OUB STATE 18 LIABLE. Lcam : 1.
That fair appearances alone are not to be trusted. 2. Piety is the only safe foun-
dation of character. 3. Discipline must also be practised. 4. Watchfulness is also
needed. (Hugh Blair, D.D.) "All these have I observed from my youth" : — L
Consider his profession. He had not only made the law of God his study, but
practice. 1. His obedience was early—" From my youth up.** 2. His obedience
was universal — " All these.'* 3. It was constant and persevering. Here we remark —
1. How much the conduct of this young man condemns that of the generality of
mankind, who, so far from having anything of trne religion, have not even the
shadow of it S. Those who have been preserved from such evils, and have
attained a high degree of moral excellence, are apt to think better of their case than
it really deserves. H. His inquiby — " What lack I yet?'* 1. He lacked the true
grace of God, or an inward principle of faith and holiness. He was like a spread-
ing tree without a root. 2. He was deficient in the knowledge of himself and of
that misery in which sin had involved him. 3. He lacked a justifying righteousness
in which to appear before God. 4. With all his professions he was not weaned
from earthly objects. Conclude : L We see that though grace puts sinners on the
400 THB BIBLICAL ILLUSTBATOB, (ohat. t.
inqmry abont salvatioii, yet all inqnirers are not truly gnoionB; many ask the way
to Zion whose faces are not thitherward. 2. Mistakes with respect to the spiritual
state of men are more common than most people imagine. 8. We here see what
is tiie right use of the Divine law : by it is the knowledge of sin. {B, Beddome^
M.A,) The goodness of God : — The words are part of a reply of our Saviour to
the young man's petition to Him. 1. God only is originally good, good of Himself.
All created goodness is an outlet from this fountain, but Divine goodness hath no
spring ; Ood depends upon no other for His goodness : He hath it in, and of, Him.
self. 2. God only is infinitely good — a boundless goodness that knows no limits. 8.
God only is perfectly good because only infinitely good. He is good without indigence,
because He hath the whole nature of goodness, not only some beams that may
admit of increase of degree. 4. God only is immutably good. There is not such a
perpetual light in the sun as there is a fulness of goodness in God (Jas. i. 17). 5.
All nations have acknowledged God good. 6. The notion of goodness is inseparable
from the notion of a God (Rom. i. 20 ; Psa. oxlv. 6, 7). I. What this goodness is.
1. We mean not the goodness of His essence, or the perfection of His nature. God
is thus good because His nature is infinitely perfect. 2. Nor is it the same with the
blessedness of God, but something flowing from His blessedness. 3. Nor is it the
same with the holiness of God. 4. Or with the mercy of God. 6. By goodness is
meant the bounty of God — His inclination to deal well and bountifully with His
creatures. This is the most pleasant perfection of the Divine nature. 6. Compre-
hends all His attributes. All the acts of God are nothing else but the effluxes of
His goodness, distinguished by several names, according to the object it is exercised
about. As the sea, though it be one mass of water, yet we distinguish it by several
names, according to the shores it washeth and beats upon (Exod. xxxiii. 19, xxxiv. 6 ;
Psa. cxlv. 7, 8). n. Some propositions to explain the natdbe of this goodness. 1.
He is good by His own essence — not by participation from another. Not a quality in
Him, but a nature ; not a habit added to His essence, but His essence itself. 2. God is
the prime and chief goodness to whom all goodness whatsoever must be referred, as
the final cause of all good. 3. His goodness is communicative, diffusive, without
which He would cease to be good (Psa. cxix. 68.) God is more prone to communi-
cate Himself tiian the sun to spread its beams, or the earth to mount up its fruits,
or the water to multiply living creatures. 4. God is necessarily good — inseparable
from His nature as holiness. 5. God is freely good. The necessity of the goodness
of His nature hinders not the liberty of His actions : the matter of His acting is not
at all necessary, but the manner of His acting in a good and bountiful way is neces-
sary as well as free. 6. Communicative with the greatest pleasure. What God
gives out of goodness He gives with joy and gladness. He is as much deUghted
with petitions for His liberality in bestowing His best goodness as princes are weary
of the craving of their subjects. 7. Its display was the motive and end of all His
works of creation and providence. III. God is good. 1. The more excellent anything
is in nature the more of goodness and kindness it hath. 2. He is the cause of all
created goodness. (1) Is not impaired by suffering sin to enter into the world, and
man to fall thereby. It is rather a testimony of God's goodness, that He gave man
an ability to be happy, than any charge against His goodness, that He settled man
in a capacity to be evil. God was first a benefactor to man before man could be a
rebel against God. (2) Is not prejudiced by not making all things the equal
subjects of it. Is any creature destitute of the open marks of His goodness, though
all are not enriched with those signal characters which He vouchsaies to
others (Gen. i. 4, 10, 12, 18, 21, 26, 31)? (3) Is not violated by the severe
punishment of offenders, and the inflictions He inflicts upon His servants, (a) God's
justice is part of the goodness of His nature. Is it not a part of the goodness
of God to make laws and annex threatenings ? and shall it be an impeachment of His
goodness to support them? Not to punish evil would be a want of goodness.
{b) Sometimes God afflicts men for the temporal and eternal good (1 Cor.
xi. 32; Psa. Ixxxix. 33; Heb. xii. 10). IV. The manifestation of His good-
ness. 1. In creation of man — his being and nature ; the conveniences He
provided for, and gave to man ; the world was made and furnished for man ;
the laws He hath given to man — fitted to his nature and happiness. 2. In
redemption. (1) Goodness was its spring. He was under no obligation to pity our
misery, Ac. (2) Exceeds His goodness in creation : in regard to the difficulty of
effecting it ; its cost ; man's desert of the contrary. Greater goodness than was
expressed towards the angels — standing or fallen. Greater than was for a time
aanifested to Christ Himselt He $o loved the world that He seemed for a time
«B^- xj 8T, MARK. 401
not to love His Son in comparison of it, or equal with it (Jno. iii. 16). The first
resolution to redeem, and the means appointed for redemption, could have no other
inducement but Divine goodness. In God's giving Christ to be our Redeemer, He
gave the highest gift that it was possible for Divine goodness to bestow— greater than
worlds or all things purchased by Him : greater because it was His Own Son, not an
angel ; and this Son given to rescue us by His death. (3) This goodness is enhanced
by considering the state of man in the first transgression, and since : nothing in fallen
man to allure God to the expression of His goodness ; man was reduced to the lowest
condition ; every age multiplied provocations ; man was utterly impotent ; the high
advancement of our nature, after it had so highly offended ; the covenant of grace
made with us, whereby we are freed from the rigour of that of works — its nature
and tenor, its confirmation (Heb. vi. 17, 18), its easy, reasonable, and necessary
condition ; His affectionate method cf treating with man to embrace this
covenant ; the sacraments He hath affixed to this covenant, especially in
the Lord's Supper. (4) By this redemption God restores us to a more excel-
lent condition than Adam had in innocence (Jno. x. 10). 3. In His govern-
ment— in preserving all things ; in the preservation of human society ; prescribing
rules for it, restraining the passions of men, &c. ; in providing Scripture as a rule
to guide US, and continuing it in the world ; in the conversion of men ; in answer-
ing prayers ; in bearing with the infirmities of His people ; in afflictions and perse-
cutions (Psa. cxix. 71); in temptations. V. Use. 1. Of instruction. If God
be so good— (1) How unworthy is the contempt or abuse of His goodness. (2) It
is a certain argument that man is fallen from his original state. (3) There can be
no just complaint against God, if men be punished for abusing His goodnesss. (4)
Here is a certain argument, both for God's fitness to govern the world, and His
actual government of it. (5) The ground of all religion is this perfection of good-
ness. (6) Renders God amiable— to Himself, to us. (7) Renders Him a fit object
of trust and confidence. (8) Renders God worthy to be obeyed and honoured. 2.
Of comfort. (1) In our addresses to Him. (2) In afflictions. (3) Ground of
assurance of happiness. (4) Of comfort in the midst of public dangers. 3. Of
exhortation. (1) How should we endeavour after the enjoyment of a God so good I (2)
Often meditate on the goodness of God. (3) Be thankful for. (4) Imitate— in relieving
and assisting others in distress, &o. {Stephen Charnocke, B.D.) I shall show what
was commendable in this young man. First — The question asked — ^What shall I do
to inherit eternal life ? I. It is not a question about another man, but himself.
Many do not look inward, and are busy about the concernments of others ; but here
it is not, What shall they do, or what shall others do ? but. Good Master, what is my
duty ? What shall I do to be saved ? II. It is not a curious question, or the pro-
posal of some intricate doubt and nice debate (Titus iii. 9— "Avoid foolish
questions "). HI. It is not about the body, but the soul. IV. About his soul. And
certainly such a question as this discovers a good spirit. 1, That he was no
Sadducee, for he inquires after eternal life, which they denied. 2. It discovers
some thoughtf ulness about it ; his thoughts were more upon the kingdom of heaven
than upon a temporal reign. 3. It discovered that he was very sensible of the
connection that is between the end and the means, that something must be done
in order to eternal life. There are some men who would have heaven and
happiness, but are loathe to be at the cost. 4. This question so put discovers that
he was sensible that a slight thing would not serve the turn, not a little saying and
outward profession. 6. This was the errand and great thing that brought him to
Christ to find the way to heaven and true happiness. V. This question was
seriously put : he did not ask it in jest, but in the greatest earnest. Secondly.
Let Qs consider the person by whom it was put. I. We find him to be a young
man. God demands His right of the young man, that his heart be seasoned betimes
with grace. 1. Consider how convenient and reasonable it is that God should have
our first and best. The flower and best of our days is due to God, who is the best
of beings. Under the law the first fruits were God's ; the sacrifices were all offered
young, and in their strength (Lev. ii. 14). When wit is dulled, ears heavy, body
weak, affections spent, is this a fit sacrifice for God ? If a man has a great way to
go, it is good rising early in the morning ; many set out too late, never any too
soon. And for the convenience of it, young men are most capable of doing God
service ; the faculties of their souls are most vigorous, and ^e members of their
bodies most active. It is not fit to lay the greatest load on the weakest horse ; the
weak shoulders of old men are not fit for the burden of religion. 2. Consider how
necessary it is, because the lusts of youth being boiling hot need the oorreotion of a
401 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [oha». x.
more severe discipline. As the boiling pot sendeth up most steam, so in the
fervours of youth there are the strongest inclinations to intemperance and unclean-
ness. 3. Consider the profit of it. (1) The work is more easy the sooner it is
taken in hand : whereas the longer it is delayed, the more difficult. A twig is easily
bowed, but when it is grown into a tree it is not moved. When the disease groweth
inveterate, medicines do little good. (2) You hereby provide for the comfort of old
age. K you serve God in your good days, He will help you the better over those
evil days wherein there is no pleasure. It will then be no grief of heart to you
when old that you were acquainted with God young : whereas, on the other side, the
vanities of youth will be the burden of age. (3) Our great work, that must be once
done, is put out of hazard when we think of heaven seriously while we are young.
Life is most uncertain, and such a weighty business as this should not be left at
peradventures. II. This man was a rich man, one who had great possessions.
This man, though he had enough to live happily in the present world, yet he thinks
of the world to come. This is a question rarely moved by men of that sort. They
think heaven is a fit notion to entertain the fancies of the poor and afflicted withal,
a pleasant thought wherewith to comfort and relieve their sorrows ; but this rich
man, though he had great possessions, yet he hath his trouble upon him about his
salvation. III. He was a ruler, not a vulgar and obscure plebeian, but a man of
eminence and authority, a nobleman (to speak in the English language), or the
chief of his family. Thirdly. Here is the manner of his address, and thenop you
may observe — 1. The voluntariness of it. 2. The earnestness and fervour of his
coming — " He came running." 3. Consider his humility and reverence to Christ :
he kneeled to him, in token of civil honour and reverence to Him, as an eminent
teacher and prophet. I. But where was his defect ? 1. His fault was that he asked
in the Pharisee's sense, what good thing he should do. Now the Pharisee's error
was double ; he thought that men should be saved by their own works, and that
those works were in their own power. They were confident of their own merit and
strength. II. His next fault was his love of riches and worldly things, which is a
dangerous obstruction and a let to salvation. First : This may serve to humble us.
It were a blessed thing for the world if all men went so far as this young man, so
as — 1. To have their thoughts taken up about eternal life. The most part of the
world never consider whence they are nor whither they go, nor what shall become
of them to all eternity. Should a man's thoughts be taken up about furnishing his
inn where he tarries but a night and neglect his home ? 2. To be sensible, it is
no slight matter to have an interest in the world to come. Most men think they
shall do well enough for heaven ; a small matter will serve the turn for that. 3.
To have such a sense as to choose fit means. Many keep up teachers to please their
own lusts. 4. To be so concerned as to be in earnest in the means. " Be swift to
hear " (St. James i. 19). But we are cold, slack, and negligent. Secondly : To
caution us : do not rest in a common work. 1. In a desire of heaven is your only
happiness. 2. Do not rest barely in a desire that moveth us \o the use of some
means, unless it bring us to a perfect resignation to God. This man had a good
mind to heaven ; he cheapens it, but is not willing to go through with the price. 3.
If we would not rest in a common work, there are two things we must take care of,
which are opposite to the double defect of this young man — brokenness of heart,
and unbounded resignation of ourselves to the will of God ; bring yourselves to that,
and the thing is done. (1) Brokenness of heart. (2) Resignation of yourselves to
God's wiU. He that starves as well as he that surfeits hath his difficulties in the
way to heaven. Every man hath a tender part of soul, some carnal afifection that
he doth allow, reserve, and is loath should be touched ; therefore, till there be an
unbounded resignation, and we fully throw ourselves at Christ's feet, it is impossible
ever we should come to the kingdom of heaven. No ; we should be ^lad to accept
of mercy on any terms, and take heaven at God's price. 1. This unbounded reso-
lution must be seriously made (St. Luke xiv. 26). 2. It must be faithfully
performed. There are four points of great weight and moment, which should ever
be remembered by them that would make out their gospel qualifications or new
covenant plea of sincerity. (1) That any allowed evil habit of soul or reigning sin
is inconsistent with that faith that worketh by love, and only maketh us capable of
the great privileges of the gospel. (2) That the usual bait of reigning sin is the
world. The great difficulty of salvation lies in a man's addictedness to worldly things
of temporal satisfaction. (3) That our inclinations to worldly things is various,
according to our temper and constitution of men — '* As the channel is oat so the
rivor roiu *' (Isa. liii. 6). (4) That many times, when pretences are fair, there is a
X.] ST. MARK. 403
secret reserve in onr hearts. The devil seeketh to deceive men with a sriperficial
change and half reformation, and moveth them to take on the profession of religion,
and yet secure their fleshly and worldly interest. (T. Manton, D.D.) We have
seen tihe young man's question : here is Christ's answer ; in wliich observe two
things. 1. Hi^ expostulation with him — " Why callest thou Me good ? " 2. His
instruction of him—" There is none good but One, that is God." First : For the
expostulation. He doth not simply blame him for giving Him this title, but
argueth with him about it. 1. To show He loves no compliment or fair words
which proceed not from sound faith and love to Him. As elsewhere (St. Luke vi.
46) — " Why call me Lord, Lord, and do not the things which I say ? " It is a
mockery to give titles to any one when we do not answer it with suitable endeavours.
2. He takes occasion to draw him from his error of conceiving Him as a mere man.
The attribute of good belongeth truly and properly to none but God. 3. Our Lord
would teach us by His own example to cast all the honour we receive upon God.
This is a common sin, that when God doth any good by His creatures the minds of
men stick in the creatures, and never look up to God ; and from thence comes
idolatry. 4. I suppose the chief reason was to beat down this pharisaical conceit.
Secondly : I come to Christ's instruction of him. There is none good but God. And
there you have two propositions. 1. That in some sense there is no man good. 2.
That God only is good. Doctrine 1 : There is no mere man that is absolutely and
perfectly good. I shall explain this negatively and affirmatively. First : For the
negative part. 1. It is not to be so understood as if in no sense man were good, for
it is said in St. Luke vi. 45, ♦• A good man out of the good treasure of his heart " ;
and it is said of St. Barnabas (Acts xi. 24) and of Joseph of Aramathea (St. Luke
xxiii. 50). 2. This is not so to be understood as if there were no distinction
between men, but they were all equal in sin. 3. It is not so to be understood as if
it were unlawful wholly to acknowledge that goodness that is in others. Secondly :
Positively. How is it then true that no man is good? 1. No man is of himself
good, but only by participation of God's goodness. As all the stars derive their
ught from the sun, so do we derive our poor weak ray wherewith we shine from the
Father of lights (St. James i. 17). All the tribute we pay Him we have oat of His
own exchequer. 2. No man is good, that is, absolutely and perfectly good. 3. No
man is good in comparison with God. The consideration of God's holiness and
dignity obscureth all the glory and praise of the creature. As when the sun is up
the lustre of the stars is no more to be seen than if they were not, so when God
is thought on, and we are compared with Him, there are none good, no, not one.
1. This should ever keep us humble, for all the good that is in us, natural and
spiritual, is not of ourselves but God (1 Cor. iv. 7). 2. This should keep us in a
self-loathing frame and posture of heart, because the good that is in us is so imper-
fect and mingled with so much evil of sin. 3. This instructeth us, since none is
good, where our happiness lieth, not in the plea of innocenoy, but in the pardon of
sin (Psa. xxxii. 1, 2). Doctrine 2 : That God only is good. First, the absolute per-
fection of His nature and being, which is such as nothing is wanting to it or
defective in it, and nothing can be added to it to make it better. In short, God is
good, and only good four ways— originally, essentially, infinitely, and immutably.
1. Originally. He is avrayaQog, good of Himself. 2. He is essentially good.
The goodness of God and the goodness of a creature differs, as a thing whose sub-
stance is gold differs from ^at which is gilded and overlaid with gold. A
vessel of pure gold, the matter itself, gives lustre to it ; but in a gilded
vessel, the outward lustre is one thing, and the substance is another. The
essence and being of an angel is one thing, and its holiness another. The holiness
may be separated from the essence, for the essence and being of the angels was
continued when their perfection aud goodness was lost; so man's substance is one
thing, his holiness another, but in God His holiness is His being. 3. God is
infinitely good. God is an ocean without banks or bottom; the goodness of a
creature is but a drop from the ocean, or as a nutshell filled with the water of the
sea. 4. God is immutably good: it cannot be diminished or augmented, for in
infiniteness there are no degrees — it can never be more than it is or less than it is ;
(or God hath actually all possible perfection. Use 1. To humble us in our con-
verse with God. Use 2. To make us thankful. Use 3. If we would have good
wrought in us, let us look up to God. Use 4. Let us love God, and love Him above
all things, for He only is good. He is the chiefest good. Other things are good in
subordination to Him. All the goodness that is in the creature is but a spark of
that good which is in God. If we find any good there, it is not to detain our affeo-
404 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap.
tions, but to lead us to a greater good ; not to hold ub from Him, but to lead ob ta
Him, as the streams lead ua to the fountain, and the steps of a ladder are not to
stand still upon, but to lead us higher. If the prince should woo us by messengers,
and we should leave him and cleave to the messengers, this were extreme folly, and
a great abuse and wrong to the prince. By the goodness of the creatures God's end
is to draw us to Himself as the chief est good. Here is goodness in the creature, but it
is mixed with imperfection ; the goodness is to draw us to God, the imperfection to
drive us from the creatures. Many a fair stream is drawn dry or runneth low by being
dispersed into several channels, but that which is infinite cannot be lessened. {Ibid.)
Question 1. Why Christ refers the young man to the commandments 7 To convince
him of his impotency, to humble him in the sense of his guilt, to drive him out of
himself, and to draw him to seek salvation by a better covenant, or if not, to leave
him without excuse. 1. Christ used the same method that God did in giving the
law upon Mount Sinai. Why did God give it then but to break a stiff-necked people,
trusting to their own strength, by this exact yoke of duty, which neither they nor
their fathers were able to bear? (Rom. v. 20, 21 ; Gal. iii. 19.) 2. Practical con-
viction is best, and men never see their unworthiness so much as when they are
held to their own covenant, and we are so far to condescend to the humours of men
as to convince them and condemn them in their own way. As a presumptuous sick
man, that is strongly conceited he is able to leave his bed and walk up and down,
the best way to confute him is by trial. 3. It was a truth Christ spake. If thou
wilt enter into life, keep the commandments ; but we must consider his intention.
Though men's trusting in their own works is displeasing to God, yet good works are
not displeasing to Him. Question 2. Why the conunandments of the second table
are only mentioned ? 1. In these the Pharisees conceived themselves to be most
perfect, and yet these were a sufficient touchstone whereby to try and discover their
unfruitfulness and their imperfection. Certainly if they be defective here, there is
no standing by the law. If a man cannot go, surely he cannot run ; if he cannot
spell, surely he cannot read ; if men be defective in the duties of the second table,
certainly they are not able to keep the law. 2. These are most plain and easy to
be understood, and the sins committed against them are most evident and apparent.
3. In the externals of the first table the Jews seemed very zealous, but negligent
they were of the second ; and herein they commonly fail who hypocritically make
fair shows of devotion and outward respect to God in worship (Isa. i. 11). Doct. :
The true way to prepare men for Christ is to cause them to see their misery and
impotency by the law. Because every man is apt to flatter himself with a spurious
covenant of works of his own making, which is the main let and hindrance to keep
him from Christ and salvation. It must be a powerful instrument to prepare men
for Christ, because this covenant shuts up a siimer without any hope of reUef, unless
Christ and grace open the door to him. Let us then see how this law shuts men
up. 1. The duty is impossible (Rom. viii. 3). 2. The penalty is intolerable (Gal.
iii. 10). There is none passeth into the new covenant till he be driven by the old;
and therefore certainly this is the way to prepare a man for Christ, to have some
eense and feehng of it in our heart, and we see we are cursed and undone creatures,
and so lie at God's feet with brokenness of heart (Rom. viii. 15). To instruct us,
if we would be prepared for Christ, what we must do. 1. We must be able to under-
stand the law. 2. Meditate often thereupon (Psa. i. 6). 3. Judge yourselves by it-
look into thy bill, what owest thou ? 4. Beg the light of the Spirit to show thee thy sin
and misery (Rom. vii. 9) . Without the Spirit we guess confusedly concerning things,
as the man that saw men like trees walking, and have but general, cursory, confused
thoughts. {Ibid.) A good answer, if true:— The young man's answer was good
if it were true. First. It is good in the first respect, as an universality of obedience
is pretended; and I drop this note — Doct. : They that would keep the commandments
must observe not only one but all. It is true of the law of God, as it belongeth to
the covenant of works, or to the covenant of grace. 1. As it belongeth to the
covenant of works (Gal. iii. 10; James ii. 10]. As one condition not observed
forfeits the whole lease, therefore it concerns this legalist to make good his plea and
conceit of perfection by the law, to say, " all these things have I done." 2. But is
not the covenant of grace more favourable ? No ; it gives not allowance to the
least failings, but binds us to make conscience of all as well as of some. (1) Because
the authority is the same (Exod. xx. 1). " God spake," not one ortwo, but " all these
words." (2) The heart can never be sincere when we can dispense with anything
which God hath commanded; and you cannot have the testimony of a good
conscience approving your sincerity when you allow yourselves in the least failing
. X.] 8T, MARK, 4Q6
(Pea. oxiz. 6 ; Luke i. 6 ; Psa. Ixvi. 18). (8) God giveth grace to all. Wherever
ae renews and sanctifies is thronghont. He fills the soul with the seeds of all grace,
80 as to dispose and incline us to every duty, whether to God or man, the world or
cur fellow-creatures (2 Peter i. 7). Use. To reprove those that would keep some
commandments, but not alL There is such an union betwixt all the parts of the
law of God, that one cannot be violated without a breach of all the rest ; therefore
take heed of obeying God by halves. Secondly : There is another thing that is good
in the reply the young man maketh, that is his early beginning — " I have kept all
from my youth." 1. Because it will be a help to us all our lives afterwards, before
affections are forestalled and pre-engaged, to begin with God, and to have the
inclinations of youth set right by a good education, to be restrained from our own
will, and to be trained up in a way of abstinence from bodily pleasures. When men
are well principled and seasoned in youth, it sticketh by them ; the vessel is seasoned
already. 2. While parents and governors are careful to season those tender vessels,
the Lord is pleased many times to replenish them with grace from above, and to
give us His blessing upon their education, and many have been converted that way.
You will bewail any natural defect of your children, and seek to cure it while they
are young, if they have a stammering tongue, a deai ear, or a lame leg ; certainly
you ought much more bewail the want of grace. Dye the cloth in the wool, and not
in the web, and the colour is more durable. God works strangely in children, and
many notable things have been found in them beyond expectation. 3. It prevents
many sins which afterwards would be a trouble to us when we are old. The sins
of youth trouble many a conscience in age ; witness David (Psa. xxv. 7 ; Job xiii. 26).
New afflictions may awaken the sense of old sins, as old bruises may trouble us long
after, upon every change of weather. Alas 1 we cannot say " all these have we kept
from our youth," but when we come to look to the commands of God, we may say
" all these have we broken from our youth." But was it true ? 1. It was true in
regard of outward conformity. If there be light in the lantern, it will shine forth.
If there be grace in the heart, it will appear. 2. It was not true in regard of that
perfect obedience which the law requireth, and so he ignorantly and falsely supposed
that he had kept the law well enough, and done those things from his youth. The
falsity and presumption of this answer will appear by considering — (1) What the
Scripture saith of the state of man by nature (Gen. viii. 21). (2) The falsity of it
appears by the sense of the commandment produced. (3) The falsity of it will
appear by comparing "^jm with other holy men of God ; now differently do they
express themselves from this man that was so fuU of confidence. Compare him
first with Josiah, who, when he heard the law read, rent his clothes (2 Kings xxii.
11). A tender conscience is all in an agony when it hears the law, and will smite
for the least failing, as David's heart smote him for cutting off the lap of Saul's
garment. But what is the cause that men are so apt to overrate their own
righteousness and goodness before God? First. Ignorance. 1. Ignorant of the
spiritual meaning of the law. A man that keeps the law only outwardly can no
more be said to keep the law than he that hath undertaken to carry a tree, and only
taken up a little piece of the bark. 2. They are ignorant of gospel righteousness,
which consists in the remission of sins, and imputation of Christ's righteousness
applied by true faith. Ignorance, then, is one great cause of this disposition in men
to justify themselves, ignorance of the legal and gospel covenant ; they are ignorant
of the nature, merit, and influence of sin, and of the severity of God's justice.
Secondly. Another cause is error. 1. That they live in good order and are of a
civil, harmless life, and are better than others, or better than themselves have been
heretofore, and therefore are in good condition before God, and yet a man may be
carnal for all this. A man may not be as bad as others, and yet not as good as God
requireth (Gal. vi. 4). What is short of regeneration is short of salvation. 2. Here
is another of their errors : they are bom and bred up in the bosom of the Church,
and true religion ; and because they are baptized, and profess the faith of Christ,
therefore they think they ever had faith and a good heart towards God, and do not
see why or from what they should be converted. 8. They know no difference
between a state of nature and a state of grace ; they know no such thing as
passing from death to life, and therefore are never troubled about it. As if all
were of one lump, and all should fare alike, and therefore think themselves aa
good as the best. 4. That those that are blameless before men, and well spoken of
in the world, need not doubt of their acceptance with God. 5. Another sottish
maxim is, that petty sins are not to bo stood upon. Thirdly : Self-love is the reason
of it (Prov. xvi. 2). A man is very blind and partial in his own cause, and wiU
406 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. x.
not own any opinion and conceit against himself. Fonrthly. Negligence and want
of searching, and taking the course whereby we may be undeceived. Fifthly.
Security. As they will not search, so they will not know themselves when they are
searched, and cannot endure thoroughly to be discovered to themselves. 1. They
cannot endure to be searched by the Word (St. John iii. 20). 2. When God
searcheth them by affliction j when they do not judge themselves, they are judged
by the Lord. And that yen may not be besotted with a dream of your own
righteousness, consider — 1. How light every one of us shall be found when we are
put in the balance of the sanctuary (Prov. xvi. 2). 2. CJonsider how different the
judgment of God and men will be (St. Luke xvi. 15). 3. Consider that self is an
incompetent judge in its own case ; and therefore you, that are to endure God's
judgment, should not stand merely to the judgment of self. (Ibid.)
Ver. 21. Then Jesus beholding him, loved him. — The young rulers whom
Jesus loved : — I. Let us inquire into the natubk of oub Lord's beqabb fob the
YOUNG BULEB. "Then Jesus, beholding him, loved him." There are those
who think that ardent love for an unconverted friend is a misplaced affection ;
that we should only love what God loves. But the love of God must be different
from the love of the creature. When God loves He loves the whole man, not
for his moral qualities, but in spite of them. The love of man is partial in
its object, for we can admire one part of a man's character whilst we dislike
another. Our attachments also in their present form must be of limited duration.
What is implied in this love .' 1. There is a sincere desire for such a person's
welfare and an anxious wish to do him good. 2. There is a feeling of mournful
pity, that one endowed with such high and hopeful qualities should fall short
of heaven at last. II. What webe the qualities which kindled oub Lobd's
REGARD FOB THE YOUNG BULEB f 1. A real concom OH the part of the young man
for the safety of his soul. 2. Our Lord would be pleased with the young man's
desire for rehgious knowledge. 3. The excellence of his moral character. HI.
Having seen the nature of our Lord's regard, and the qualities of the young man
which seem most likely to have kindled it, let us conclude with a few practical reflec-
tions on THE SAD COMPATABILITY OF BOTH WITH THE FINAL LOSS OF HEAVEN. 1. HoW
many amiable qualities are here spoiled at once by the love of this world. 2. What
is the precise value of any combination of amiable quaUties towards the securing
of this rich inheritance ? However the world may applaud noble qualities, they
will not save in the day of judgment. There must be repentance and faith.
(D. Moore, M.A.) Amiable qualities in the unregenerate : — Doctrine I. — There
may be some amiable and good qualities in unregenerate men. 1. AH are created
with some inclination to good, though not to good spiritual, yet to good, natural
and moral. In our decayed condition there are some remainders of right reason,
some impressions of equity, some principles of common honesty, still left and pre-
served in us, though as to spiritual endowments, "we are altogether become
filthy and abominable " (Psa. xiv. 2). As in a rifled palace, though the rich
furniture be gone, the plate and the jewels, and though the fashion of it be much
spoiled, yet some of the fabric is left still standing to show what a magnificent
Btructuie it once was. 2. For the good of mankind. God is the patron of human
society, and delights in the welfare and preservation of it. Now there would be
no such thing as human society, if there were not sweetness of nature and moral
dispositions yet left in us. 3. There are other things besides renewing grace that
might cause these amiable qualities. (1) Bodily temper may incline men to some
good. (2) The increase of one sin may cause others to decrease, as a wen that
grows big and monstrous defrauds other parts of their nourishment. Though all
sin be kindly to a natural heart, yet some sins are more apt to take the throne, and
other lusts are starved to feed that. ... A prodigal man is not covetous, and so
more prone to be liberal and free-hearted. . . . Thus as weeds destroy one another,
so do many vices ; so many vices occasion something that is amiable. Ambition
makes men diligent, sober, and vigilant to improve their opportunities. (3) It may
be occasioned partly by discipline and strict education, or else the miseries and
calamities of the present life ; for these things, hough they do not mortify sin,
yet they may much weaken and hinder the discovery of it. (4) By politic govern-
ment and laws, which keep men within the bound of their duty, so that they are
orderly by constraint, and for fear of penalty, w ich, if they should follow their
pleasure in sinning, liiey would be exposed to. Austin compares laws to brooms,
which, though they cannot make corn of weeds or of chaff, yet they serve to sweep
CHAP. X.) ST. MARK. 407
in the com and keep it within the floor. Laws may make men good subjects,
though not good men. (5) Unregenerate men may be translated from the grammar
school of nature to the university of grace ; and though they never commence
there, and took the degree of true sanctification, yet they may come very near to it
by common grace, and may not be far from the kingdom of God. Use I. It
shows as how inexcusable they are in the sight of God, and how just their
condemnation will be, that have nothing lovely in them. Use 2. If there may be
amiable qualities in unregenerate men, then do not rest in these things
(St. Matt. v. 46). A good nature without grace makes a fair show with the
world, but it is of little respect with God as to your salvation. All this may be
from temper and awe of men. How may a man mistake a still nature for meek-
ness, firmness and height of spirits for zeal, want of affection to holy things for
discretion, stupidity for patience, obstinacy for constancy I But God knows how
to distinguish. Will complexion and temper ever pass for grace in God's account ?
And usually if a natural man hath one good quality, he hath another bad one
to match it. Nay, a good nature once corrupted doth prove the worst of all others,
as the sweetest wine makes the tartest vinegar — all their parts and excellences are
but like a sword in a cutler's shop, as ready for the thief as the true man to purchase.
Doctrine 2. That in some respect Christ loves tbose that are orderly and civil, and
do but outwardly carry themselves according to God's commands. 1. The thing ia
good in itself, though the resting in it makes it useless as to the salvation of the
person that goes no further (Micah vi. 8). 2. Because our Lord Jesus Christ is
willing and ready to own the least good in us, that He might draw us on to more
(St. Matt. xii. 20). 3. Because these things tend to the profit of mankind, and
Jesus Christ's heart is much set upon the good of mankind. Use. Now let us see
what use we may make of this. I. Negatively. 1. We cannot make this use of it
as if Christ did love moral virtues as meritorious of grace ; they are not such things
upon which God hath bound Himself to give the grace of conversion. 2. We must
not so take this as that He doth love good qualities so as to make them equal with
Christian virtues or the graces of the Spirit. Morality is good, but we must not
lift it up beyond its place. There is something better, and that is grace (Heb. vi. 9).
Loose professors dishonour their religion, but the sound grapes in the cluster must
not be judged of by the rotten ones, nor is the beauty of a street to be measured by
the filthiness of the sink and kennel. Those that are the sink and disgrace of
Christianity are unfit to show forth the virtue of it. So that if you compare these
things, their morality is but like a field flower to a garden flower, or wild fruits to
orchard fruits ; it is a wild thing in comparison of grace, and not in any way comes
up to the height of it. 3. We must not from hence make this use, that we should
think ourselves to be in a good condition because of moral qualifications. Men
may be viceless, but yet if they be Christlesa and graceless, and never brought to
brokenness of heart (for certainly that is necessary to prepare men for faith, and
for pardon of sins) they may perish for evermore. II. Positively. What use may
we make of this, that Jesus loved this young man ? 1. If Christ did love civility,
much more will He love true grace in any of His, though mingled with much weak-
ness. Certainly He that delights in the obscure shadow of His image will much
more delight in the lively picture and impression of it upon the souls of His people,
though we have our weaknesses. 2. We learn by Christ's example to honour
others for their common gifts. 3. Thus we may learn children, young men, and
others, all may know how to get Christ's love if they be tractable. By the rule of
contraries, if He loves conformity to the law of God in externals, He hates those
that walk contrary to His laws. 4. It condemns those that will pretend to the
peculiar love of Christ, when they are not moral, but forward, undutiful in their
relations, unconscionable in their dealing, and have not learned to be sober, to
possess their vessels in sanctification and honour. What I do you talk of being
Christians, when you are not as good as heathens ? Object : What love doth Christ
show now upon earth to those that are moral? 1. Moral virtues will at least pro-
cure a temporal reward. 2. There will be some serenity of mind resulting from the
rectitude of your actions. 3. It is some advantage to grace ; it is like the priming the
post, that mVketh it receptive of better colours. 4. As to their eternal state, it will
be more tolerable for such than for others. (T. Manton, D.D.) On discerning good
in others ;— It is only St. Mark who informs us that our Lord, beholding him, loved
him. There were many imperfections in this young man, who was far too well satisfied
with himself ; yet our Lord loved him. Thus when we see much in people to lament
and condemn, we should try to discern something in them to love We are often
408 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chaf. X
tempted to dweH on the worst side of our neighbour's charactei We shall neyet
help him much unless we love him. Let us go on looking till the ungraceful quali-
ties disappear from view, and we discover his better self. There is some such view
taken of the departed. Sometimes while a man is alive we are keenly alive to hia
bad points ; when the man dies we find there is another side to his character which
we never suspected. We often do not know the value of persons till we have lost
them. We should not wait for death to remove men before we appreciate them.
Try to think not so much of what the man is as what he was meant to be. Recon-
struct in imagination the pattern after which he was created. He was meant to be
something better than he has yet become. God meant him simply to be courageous.
He is now rash. He is now lavish — he was intended to be generous. His very
faults are perhaps perversions of good qualities. What you think insincerity
arises from a desire not to wound feelings. What you thijik abruptness is a dis-
torted form of straightforwardness. Not that we should confound moral distinc-
tions. The man is a drunkard — we need not justify intemperance, but we may yet
think God meant him for something better. God drew the plan for each. I will
consider what by grace they may yet become. The Saviour loves you still, beholding
you with all your blemishes. {H. W, Burrows.) One thing thou lackest. —
The defective amiabilities of the young : — There may be much exceedingly fair and
interesting in youth, and yet one thing of essential importance lacking. 1. Cor-
poreal beauty — comeliness of feature, freshness of complexion, symmetry of form,
gracefulness of movement ; but how terrible if united with depraved and deformed
Boul, if no Divine light within, no love of God reigning in the heart 2. Tender
sensibilities, ever apt to awake at sight of distress. And yet in same heart there
may be no sense of sin, no repentance toward God, no regard for Christ, no graces
of the Spirit. 3. Mental ability — strong memory, ready judgment, shrewd observa-
tion, Hvely fancy ; and yet an understanding blind in reference to the things of
God, e.g.y Balaam, Ahitophel. 4. Docihty — readiness to devote energies to this or
that pursuit, but neglecting the greatest study of all. He who has been learning aU
other sciences, but will not learn of Jesus, has left out of his study that very science
which alone can " enlighten him with the light of the living." 6. Religious as-
siduity— attention to outward rites. It is possible to know the truth and not love
it ; to hear the gospel and not believe it. 6. Active benevolence. Eondness may
be done from motives of self-interest. They may also proceed merely from natural
instinct, and not from love to God. 7. Ardent friendship, without any concern
about the Friend who sticketh closer than a brother. {John MitcTuU, D.D.) A
special precept, given as a test: — In the ruler's mind there was an ideal goodness ;
would he act up to its requirements ? Riches and poverty in themselves are of
little moment ; our views of them constitute their most important feature. The
point is. Are we trusting in them ? If so, they must be given up, for they are a
Bnare to us. 1. This test is much needed ; for, although so dangerous, riches are
not avoided like a haunted house. Very few fancy that they are rich, therefore the
warning passes by them unheeded. But, whether we possess much or little, we
may be clinging to what we have, and that is the danger. 2. If there remains one
thing wanting, we cannot know satisfaction. No matter what our earthly posses-
sions may be, still we shall be disappointed. The desires of an immortal spirit can
be satisfied with nothing less than immortality. 3. Christ alone can satisfy all our
wants. If we take up our cross and follow Him, we shall discover treasure laid
up for us in heaven. With Christ as our guide and our hope, we shall be able
to despise the riches of this world as so much glittering dross. Our course will be
forward, our hope consistent, and heaven's pure treasures our everlasting portion.
(G. C. Tomlinson.) One thing thou lackest : — ^A barren and a fruitful vine are grow-
ing side by side in the garden ; and the barren vine says to the fruitful one, " Is not
my root as good as yours ? " " Yes," replies the vine ; " it is just as good as mine.**
" And are not my lower leaves as broad and spreading ? And is not my stem M
large and my bark as shaggy ? " " Yes," says the vine. " And are not my leaves
as green, and have I not as many bugs creeping up and down ? And am I not taller
than you?" "Yes; it is quite true," replies the vine; "but I have blossoms.**
" Oh, blossoms are of no use." "But I bear fruit." "What I those clusters?
Those are onlv a trouble to a vine." Such is the opinion of the fruitless vine ; but
what thinks the vintner ? He passes by the barren vine ; but the other, filling the
air with its odour in spring, and drooping with purple clusters in autimm, is
his pride and joy ; and he lingers near it, and prunes it, that it may become yet
more luxuriant and fruitful. &o the moralist and the Christian. {U. W. Betchtr^
CHAP. X.) ST, MARK. 40\t
Whole-hearted allegiance necessary : — What, then, did this young man lack ?
Not right desires : he wished to inherit eternal life. Not a good moral character :
aU the moral law he had kept from his youth up ; he had been an honouring sou.
an honoured citizen, a pure man. Not earnestness : he came running to Christ
Not reverence : he kneeled before Him. Not humility : he made willing and public
confession of his desire and his faith before the multitude in the open roadway.
Not an orthodox belief : if words are creeds, no creed could be more orthodox than
that which he compacted into the two words, " Good Master." Not a humane and
tender spirit : for Christ looking on him loved him. But he lacked absolute and
nnquestioning allegiance ; entire and implicit consecration ; the spirit of the soldier
who only asks what the marching orders are ; the spirit of the Master Himself,
whose prayer was ever, •* Thy will, not Mine, be done." And, lacking this, he
lacked everything, and went away sorrowful. {Lyman Abbot, D.D.) Importance
of the one thing lacking : — The lack of one thing may make void the presence of all
things else. Lacking its mainspring — which is but one thing — a watch with jewels,
wheels, pinions, and beautiful mechanism, the finest watch indeed that ever was
made, is of no more use than a stone. A sun-dial without its gnomon, as it is
called. Time's iron finger that throws its shadow on the circling hours — but one
thing also — is as useless in broad day as in the blackest night. A ship may be
built of the strongest oak, with masts of the stoutest pine, and manned by the best
officers and crew ; but I sail not in her if she lacks one thing — that trembling
needle which a child running about the deck might fancy a toy ; on that plaything,
as it looks, the safety of all on board depends — lacking that, but one thing, the
ship shaU be their coffin, and the deep sea their grave. It is thus with true piety,
with hving faith. That one thing wanting, the greatest works, the costliest sacri-
fices, and the purest life, are of no value in the sight of God. Still further, to im-
press you with the valuelessness of everything without true piety, and to show how
its presence imparts such worth to a believer's life and labours as to make his mites
weigh more than other men's millions, and his cup of cold water more precious
than their cups of gold — let me borrow an illustration from arithmetic. Write
down a line of ciphers. You may add thousands, multiplying them till the sheets
they fill cover the face of earth and heaven ; yet they express nothing, and are
worth nothing. Now take the smallest number of the ten, the smallest digit, and
place that at their head — magic never wrought such a change I What before
amounted to nothing rises instantly by the addition of one figure, one stroke of the
pen, into thousands, or millions, as the case may be ; and whether they represent
pounds or pearls, how great is the sum of them ! Such power resides in true faith
— in genuine piety. It may be the lowest piety, but one degree above zero ; it may
be the love of smoking flax, the hope of a bruised reed, the faith of a mustard seed,
the hesitating, fluttering confidence of him who cried, ** Lord, I believe ; help Thou
mine unbelief." Still, so soon as it is inwrought by the Spirit of God, it changes
the whole aspect of a man's Ufe, and the whole prospect of his eternity. It is that
one thing wanting which, however amiable, moral, and even apparently religious
we may be, our Lord addresses us, as He did the young ruler, saying, ♦* One thing
thou lackest." (T. Guthrie, D,D.) One habitual fault may vitiate the whole life : —
When a clock is out of order, we take it to pieces, and search where the fault lies,
knowing that one wheel amiss may hinder the going of the whole clock. Our
hearts are every day out of order ; our work must be to take them to pieces by
examination, and to see where the great fault is. (G. Stoinnoek.) One thing
thou lackest : — The celebrated preacher, George Whitfield, made it a custom where-
ever he went to speak to the people in whose houses he stayed concerning their souls.
He used to travel throughout the country preaching the gospel, and was brought
into communication with vast numbers. At one time he was staying in the house
of a kind and amiable man, General E , who was a great admirer of his preaching.
The family was so extremely hospitable and kind that, though he saw no evidence
of vital godliness among them, Whitfield's lips seemed sealed to all but the genial
courtesies of society, and he omitted his ordinary custom on such occasions. But
when he went up-stairs to bed the Spirit of the Lord said to him, " O, man of God,
how shalt thou be clear of their blood if thou dost not warn them ? " His own
feelings would have led him to be dlent ; and the tempter suggested, ** They are so
amiable and good ; how can yon speak to them aboat sin ? Besides, you have
preached the gospel to-day in their hearing ; surely that is enough." There was a
struggle in his mind, which he would fain have decided by continuing silent,
especially as so much kindness had been received. Bat God would not let him
410 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap, x,
sleep that night. The voice of conscience said, " This very kindness should appeal
to your gratitude not to be silent. It is your duty to speak — to warn them.*' Early
in the morning, before going away, Whitfield took his diamond ring from his finger,
and wrote on the pane in the window these words : *• One thing thou lackest." He
was no sooner gone than the master of the house said, " I will go up and look into
the room where this holy man slept," for he had an almost superstitious reverence
for him. The first thing that caught his attention when entering the room was the
writing on the glass. Its meaning flashed across his mind. He stood and wept.
He then went to the door and caUed his wife. On looking at the writing she burst
into tears, and said : ♦' I thought he was unhappy. There seemed to be something
■ in his mind. I knew he was in trouble about us, that we were not converted. I
had been hoping he would speak to us." The husband said, " By God's grace, then,
^xe will seek that ' one thing ' we lack." He called his famUy together, three
aanghters and a grown-up son. The text was pointed out. The Spirit of the Lord
blessed it to their souls. The whole family knelt in prayer, confessed their sins,
and found joy and peace in believing. The narrator of this incident says: ''I
luiow the story to be a fact, a friend of mine in New York having in his congrega-
lion a young woman, the daughter of one of the three daughters who knelt with her
family in Whitfield's room, and she treasures up the pane of glass as a precious
relic." {Christian Globe.) A good natural cJiaracter without religion :— The
dahlia would surely be a very empress among flowers if it had but perfume equal
to its beauty, even the rose might need to look to her sovereignty. Florists have
tried all their arts to scent this lovely child of autumn, but in vain, no fragance can
be developed or produced ; God has denied the boon, and human skill cannot devise
it. The reflecting mind will be reminded of those admirable characters which are
occasionally met with, in which everything of good repute and comely aspect may
be seen, but true religion, that sweet ethereal perfume of grace, is wanting ; if they
had but love to God, what lovely beings they would be, the best of the saints would
not excel them, and yet that fragrant grace they do not seek, and after every effort
we make for their conversion, they remain content without the one thing which is
needful for their perfection. Oh, that the Lord would impart to them the mystic
sweetness of His grace by the Holy Spirit I (C. H. Spurgeon.) One thing lacking ;—
I. That no outward respect, however exact, or however long, to God's law, can give
us a title to eternal life. 1. It is not enough that there should be wishes after
heaven : and even a willingness to do many things, so that we may obtain the
crown and the glory which are there laid up. 2. It is not enough either that our
hearts should be tender, and our temper amiable. For after all, delightful as is this
frame of mind to those among whom we live, and on whom it sends forth a per-
petual sunshine, it is the gift of God to us. It is not our own, but His, and, in
many cases, we can no more help this sweetness of disposition, than the flowers of
the field can help being fragrant and beautiful. It is their nature to be sweet, and
ours, perhaps, to be amiable. But is it any excuse for not loving God, that we love
everything and everybody else ? 3. It is a mere wilful murdering of our own souls,
to whisper to ourselves that the greatness of a sacrifice will plead before God in
excuse for our not making it. Had the young man in the text prayed to God to
help him in his strait, to conquer his carnal weakness, to support his fainting
courage, and to gird up his soul with a triumphant faith, he would have prevailed ;
and so shall we. Faith, faith, faith— here is the want I {J. Garbett.) Sermon
to the young : — 1. What is thebb in the scAiiB that is rAVOUBABLs to you 7 1.
There are many of the qualities of youth which are favourable to religion, and as
such Christ regards them. Courage, warm affections, retentive memory. These
favourable to piety. 2. There are words in Scripture that are peculiarly favourable
to you, and should inspire your hope. " They that seek Me early shall find Me."
3. So the works of God— His works of grace— confirm those things that are said,
so earnestly, to encourage you. Perhaps not one in forty is convinced after the age
of forty. II. What is there in the scale that is against you ? " One thing thou
lackest," &c. 1. All that is merely amiable and hopeful in nature is not grace, nor is
it at all really valuable in God's sight. It is not holiness. 2. All those things that
may appear amiable and lovely, if they are not sanctified by religion, wiU become
hostile. The readiness of mind that receives a report may render your mind the store-
house of all impurity. 3. That if the grace of God prevent not, all the promises of
youth may perish in everlasting despair. Now let me entreat you to take the fol-
lowing counsels. 1. Never think you are too young to be converted, and forgiven,
and saved. 2, Never take up with anything shoit of true religion. 3. Never be
CHAF. X.1 ST, MARK, 411
satisfied with having religion — seek to abound in it. 4. Let me remind you that
for this purpose you should study your own easily besetting sin, especially the sins
of your youth. 6. For this purpose form a rule, lay down a plan for life, laying out
every day as it ought to be spent, and as you will wish you had spent it when you come
to die ; for this purpose read daily the Holy Scriptures — consult aged and experienced
Christians, and ask them how they would advise you to conduct yourself before God.
6. Lastly, seek to live not for yourselves, but to live usefully as well as safely. {J.
Bennettf D.D.) ChrisVi answer : — Now we come to Christ's answer, and there take
notice. First : Of the admonition of his defect : " Jesus said unto him, One thing
thou lackest." 1. Because it would have been tedious to convince him of all his
defects, Christ would take the more compendious way, and insist but upon onetbing,
which was enough to show that he was not perfect, as he vainly dreamed. If a man
brag that he is able to pay one hundred pounds, you convince him of his penury
when you press him to pay one penny, and he cannot. 2. This one thing was sure,
and would strike home ; for our Lord knew his heart, and therefore was resolved to
touch his privy sore, and doth propose such a precept as would cross his darling
sin ; and therefore he would only come with one thing, which would try him to th^?
purpose. 8. That one thing which he lacked was the main thing, the principal
thing of the law, which was loving God above all things ; the sum of the law is
to love God above all, and our neighbours as ourselves. 4. JBecause the young man
erred out of ignorance, Christ would not deal roughly with him, or by way of
sharp reproof; He doth not rate him. (1) We learn — That proud shiners
must not be soothed up in their self-conceit, but convinced of their defects. (2)
That the way to convince them is by representing their principal and chief faults,
some one sin ; as Christ dealt with this young man : and so He deals with the
woman of Samaria, convincing her of her sin. (3) The more our failings strike
deep upon the main articles of our obedience to God, the greater our conviction,
and the more sense we should have of our condition before God. Secondly :
We come to Christ's precept, command, and injunction. First: "Go thy way,
sell whatsoever thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure
in heaven." Not applicable to all, in all circumstances. But yet still in some
cases we are to forsake all. 1. When God by His providence reduceth us to a
poor condition. 2. When we cannot obey any particular precept of God without
danger of being undone by it. The reasons why we must do so. (1) God hath an
absolute right to all that we have by His own eminency and prerogative. (2) Be-
cause it is impossible we should be Christians, if we come not to Christ with this
mind and resolution to forsake all for our duty to Him (Luke xiv. 33). (T. Manton,
D.D.) One defect fatal: — But is it right to make such destinies turn upon a
single point ? That depends on the point. In other relations one thing may bring
ruin. At a crisis in worldly interests, one wrong step may lead to remediless
disaster. One error in trade may make you bankrupt ; one medicine in sickness
may give the turn to your life ; for the lack of one anchor a vessel is lost. In
religion, how may *♦ one thing " keep a soul from heaven ? If there is a deter-
mined, persistent unwillingness to be saved, that would seem suflficient, would it
not ? Well, that is the " one thing " referred to by Christ. And, furthermore, it
is some "one thing ** which makes the unwillingness. The ruler loved his great
possessions more than he loved his soul. But the "one thing" may take many
forms. It may be one appetite, one ambition, one companionship, one pleasure.
Every one is called to choose between one set of influences that helps religion,
and some other set which hinders. {T, J, Holmes.) Sell whatsoever thou
hast. A severe test: — It is not raw recruits and beardless boys that hold
the front of battle. These are not the stormers they throw into the fiery
breach. Where the bullets fly the thickest, and the carnage is the fiercest, the
ground is held by veterans, men inured to war, the flash of steel and the roar of
cannon ; on whose grim faces calm determination sits, with scars and medals on
their breasts. The post of danger is assigned to veterans. Heavy burdens are
laid on the backs, not of boys, but of grown men. It were little else than murder
to bid a youth, who had just left his mother's side, nor ever had his foot before on
a deck, climb the shrouds and reef the topsails in a storm, when the mast bends to
the breaking, and the ship reels in the trough of the sea. That were not common-
sense ; and what man, who loved his son, and had either sense or consideration,
would put a tender youth to bo terrible a trial ? It is said here, " Jesus, beholding
him, loved him " ; and if He loved this young ruler, why did Ho put him to a trial
that, I venture to say, would test the faith, not of a young Christian, but of the
412 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. x.
oldest and most mature Christian here ? Why did He, so to speak, send this boy
to the Tery front of the battle, the thickest of the fight ? Doing so, I confess that,
for myself, I am not much astonished at the result. At first sight, at least, I
wonder less at this youth shrinking back, than I wonder at our Lord bidding him
go forward. Let the best Christian here put himself for a moment in this youth's
circumstances. Think how you would feel now, were you called upon to-day to
give np all the earnings of a lifetime, to part with some ancestral property — the
dear old house, and the old trees, and the scenes of your boyhood, your possession,
fortune, estate, rank — to leave all, to become a beggar, and follow the fortunes
of a man so poor Himself that He often had not where to lay His head. I doubt
that would be a burden under which the oldest Christian would stagger. I suspect
that would try the faith of the best man here. And if any of yon are disposed to
look with scorn rather than sympathy on this poor young man, I am not of
your number ; and I would ask you to think how you would have done, and how
erect yon would have stood, under the same trial. The question occurs, then.
Why did our Lord put this youth to such a trial ? Was it done to repel him ? No ;
it was done to draw him. It was not done to quench the smoking flax; but to blow
it, as it were, by what seemed an adverse wind, into a burning flame. It was done
Idndly, discreetly, mercifully. By this step Christ intended to make that man
know what he was ; to make him see that he was not what he seemed to others
and to himself. This test was apphed to convince him practically of what it was
not possible, perhaps, to convince him theoretically — that there was one thing
he lacked, and that (so to say) the one thing needful. {T. Guthriey D.D.)
I. Christ-following involves self-abnegation. Ton cannot have a little of Christ,
and a little of self. All or none. II. Christ-following must be the expression of
the soul's supreme love. You must not make Christ a mere convenience. IH.
Christ-following means self-giving. Christ was the Giver, and men are like Him
in proportion as they give. Giving is not yet understood as a test of discipleship.
Giving is understood as a patronage, but not as a self-sacrifice. Giving means
different things to different people. There are men who give a thousand guineas at
once, yet is their gift without value. If certain rich merchants, whose purses are
always accessible, would but utter two sentences distinctly in favour of Christ as
their personal Saviour, that would be worth more to the Christian cause than all
the gold they lavish on it. {J» Parker^ D.D.) Consecration of all to Christ : —
Commentators stumble over the difi&culty of this command. But it came to others,
and they stood the test. It came to Peter, and James, and John, and Andrew,
when Christ bade them leave all to follow Him, to become fishers of men. It
came to Paul when Christ bade him crucify his pride, and go into Damascus, and
take his instructions from one of the despised and persecuted Christians, who would
tell him what he should do. It came to Luther when Christ bade him forsake the
church of his fathers and of his childhood; to Coligny, when Christ bade him
abandon wife, and home, and peace ; to William of Orange ; to the Puritans ; to
John Howard ; to David Livingstone. In one form or another it comes to every
Christian; for to every would-be Christian the Master says, "Give up your property,
your home, your life itself, and take them back as Mine, and use them for Me in
nsing them for your fellowmen." He who cannot—does not — do this, is no
Christian. He can do nought but go away sorrowful : in this hfe, if he is keen of
conscience ; in the life to come, if a false education has lulled his conscience into
nneasy slumber, but slumber so deep that only the judgment day can awaken it.
{Lyman Abbots D.D.) How to treat wealth: — When King Henry asked the Duke
of Alva if he had observed the eclipses happening that year, he replied, " I have so
much business upon earth, that I have no leisure to look up to heaven." So it is
with those who entangle themselves with the riches and pleasures of this world.
There is only one way in which we can make them helps instead of hindrances.
As an old writer remarks, " If we place a chest of gold or treasures upon our backs,
it weighs us down to the earth ; but if we stand upon it, we are raised higher. So
if our possessions are placed above us, they will surely keep our souls grovelling
earthward ; but if we place them under our feet, they will hft us nearer to God
and heaven." {Anon.) Apostolic poverty : — ♦• Once I was staying as a boy in a
bishop's house, and there was dug up the brass plate from the tomb of one of hia
predecessors, and I have never forgotten the inscription that was on it. It was
this : ♦ Stay, passer by 1 See and smile at the palace of a bishop. The grave is
the palace they must aU dwell in soon.' Some of the best bishops who ever lived
have been housed in log huts, and lived in apostolic poverty, and on hard fare. S«
X.] ST, MARK, 413
did St. Augostihe, the sainted Bishop of Hippo. * Do not give me rich robes,' he
said to his people ; ' they do not become & humble bishop. When a rich robe is
given to me I feel myself obliged to sell it to help the poor.' In former centuries
the first thing a bishop did, as a rule, was to part with all his earthly possessions ;
And, while the heathen historian of the fourth century praises them, he speaks
with angry scorn of the pompous and worldly prelates of other sees." {Archdeacon
Farrar.) Giving to the poor: — The Dry Goods Chronicle says that the late Mr.
Nathaniel Fwipley Cobb, of Boston, was generous-liearted and conscientious in the
highest degree. In November, 1821, he drew up the following document : — " By
the grace of God, I will never be worth more than 50,000 dollars. By the grace of
God, I will give one-fourth of the net profits of my business to charitable and
religious uses. If I am ever worth 20,000 dollars, I will give one-half my net profits,
and if I am ever worth 30,000 dollars, I will give three-fourths, and the whole after
my fiftieth thousand. So help me God, or give to a more faithful steward and set
me aside. November, 1821." He adhered to this covenant, it is stated, with the
strictest fidelity. Give God thy Jieart, and He will reward thee with heaven: —
From the circumstances of the case, then, to which the text particularly refers, ii
is evident this precept implies that religion requires the renunciation of every
object that engrosses the mind to the exclusion of God and duty. Nothing short
of a complete sacrifice can fulfil the design of the gospel. This is a sublime view
of the spirit and design of religion. It is not enough to submit to some privations,
and endure some trials in performing its duties ; religion is so authoritative and
dogmatic, that it must govern the will. The precept of the text requires the
avaricious to sacrifice their wealth ; but their wealth is to be applied to useful and
charitable purposes. The sacrifice is enjoined as an indispensable proof of sincerity.
Keligion casts contempt on all sublunary things ; still it commands its disciples to
make the world's goods subservient to generous uses ; it does not mortify one vice
to afford scope for another. The wealth which the rich man in the text possessed,
was to be distributed among the poor ; and nothing can illustrate more strikingly
the kind and charitable spirit of the gospel than the importance which is thus
given to the claims of the destitute. In thus illustrating the benevolent spirit of
the gospel, it is necessary to remark, that the text furnishes no argument for profuse
and in^scriminate charity. There is a danger that our charity should not only
be indiscriminate, but profuse. In enjoining these arduous and important duties,
religion proposes a rich and splendid reward. The figurative language of the text
was evidently suggested by the nature of the precept it contains. The individual
to whom the text was addressed was commanded to renounce his wealth ; and the
reward promised to his obedience was a treasure hereafter, infinitely more valuable
than all the treastu'es of the earth. We are accustomed to say of any object on
which we set a high value, that it is a treasure. We say of knowledge, that it is a
treasure ; we say of fame, that it is a treasure ; we say of affection, that it is a
treasure — a rich, inestimable treasure ; and in all these cases, the phrase expresses
the importance we attach to the object to which it is applied. In its application
to the reward which religion reveals, it is comparatively weak. Nothing that men
value on earth can convey any adequate idea of the splendour and value of that
reward ; for it includes in it all of dignity, enjoyment, and purity, of which our
nature is capable — the greatest honour, the most exquisite happiness, and the most
exalted virtue. It is a treasure of knowledge ; for there all Divine truth will be
revealed to the soul; doubts, errors, and prejudices, will be dispelled. It is a
treasure of affection; for there all distrust, jealousy, and fear, will be removed;
God's generous, unchanging love, will enrich and soothe the glorified spirit ; a pure
and glowing sympathy will unite soul to soul ; the sweetest thoughts, and the most
confiding tenderness, will be cherished and enjoyed ; no suspicions will ever darken
or chill file current of love, as it flows deep and warm from the rich fountains of
the soul ; and in communion with God, in the society of angels, and amidst the
bright company of the redeemed, all the delights of lofty devoted affection will
yield perpetual ravishment. It is a treasure of joy; for there every hope will be
realized, and every promise fulfilled ; care, trouble, and grief, will be for ever gone;
all the meanness, sufferings, and bereavements of hfe, will have passed away; bright
scenes will call up the fairest images, and awaken into life the most animating
thoughts ; and exercises of lofty meditation, and the purest devotion, will fill the
soul with transporting ecstasy. It is a treasure of glory ; for there the soul will be
raised to its native rank, adorned with unfading righteousness, invested with the
honour of a mighty triumph, associated with angels, and welcomed by Christ ; then
414 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [cha».
the white robes will be pnt on, the crown and victory's palm ; then the song of
praise will smile from the innumerable host ; all the glory of God, all the glory of
angels, and all the glory of the redeemed, will meet in one resplendent blaze, and
fill the vast heaven with its inconceivable brightness. Oh, what a treasure! valuable
as the soul, lasting as eternity I Riches will decay and perish ; tbe proud palace will
crumble into ruins, and its stately chambers be lonely and silent ; the charms of beauty
will fade, the trophies of ambition moulder into dust; and all the gaiety, pomp, and
Rjilendour of life, will vanish like a dream, and leave not a wrack behind. (A. Bennie.)
Take up the cross. — TJie Christian taking up his cross : — I. The Christian's cross
— What is it? It is something painful and humiliating. No death inflicted by the
Eomans was so agonizing as crucifixion ; no death so ignominious. The Christian's
cross is that portion of pain and humiliation and suffering which the wisdom of
God may allot to him in the way to heaven. It comes on us in different forms ;
the world's hatred ; domestic sickness ; in himself. One man's cross is visible — all
can see it ; another man's may be secret. Our crosses may be changed ; my
neighbour's to-day may be mine to-morrow. II. But we ark to take up oub
CROSS. What is meant by this ? 1. There are some things it seems to forbid. We
are not to make crosses for ourselves ; this is to invade God's province. He will
order our auctions for us. We are to take those He lays down, not to aggravate
or increase them. Not to wish to choose what crosses the Lord shall make for us.
We often want other men's crosses just as we want their comforts. We must let
the Physician prescribe for our disease. The cross sent is that from which we
would most like to be exempt ; the man of strong affections is wounded in his
affections. The text forbids stepping out of the way to avoid our cross ; this is
choosing sin rather than affliction. God can meet us with crosses in sinful ways as well
as in righteous, heavier than those turned from. 2. We have seen what this taking
up of the cross forbids : let us now see what it enjoins. To take our cross as Christ
did His. We are to carry it patiently — voluntarily — cheerfully. III. Look now at
THE COMMAND OUR LoRD GIVES US TO DO THIS. " Comc, take up the cross, and follow
Me." Be careful not to mistake. Suffering cannot expiate sin. Christ has done this
completely. What will you say when you lay your cross down at the gate of heaven T
(C. Bradley, M.A.) Following Christ : — There are many special reasons why Christ
should be propounded to us as our pattern and example whom we should f oUow and imi~
tate. 1. Because He is a pattern of holiness set up in our nature. 2. Because there are
many advantages by this pattern in our nature ; as (1) our pattern is more complete
than if God had been our pattern. There are some graces wherein we cannot be
said to resemble God, and therefore we must look for a pattern elsewhere, as
humility, faith, fear, hope, reverence, obedience ; none of these things are in God,
for He hath no superior, and these things imply inferiority and subjection. (2) It
is an engaging pattern. We are engaged by the rule of our obedience, but much more
by Christ's example. (3) It is an encouraging pattern, partly as there is an efficacy
in this pattern ; as with the gospel or law of Christ, there goeth along the minis-
tration of the Spirit, so also with the consideration of His example. Use. To
persuade us to follow Christ. 1. Our general profession of being Christians doth
oblige us to be hke Him ; head and members should be all of one piece — oh 1 what
an affront is it to Christ to put His name to the picture and image of the devil. 2.
We shall never be like Him in glory unless we be hke Him in grace also (Eomans
viii. 29). But wherein should we follow Christ? 1. In His self-denial (2 Cor. viii. 9).
2. In Hig humility (St. Matt. xx. 28). 3, In His love to the saints (St. Johnxiii. 34).
4. In His usefulness and profi ableness, and of this the whole Gospel is a narrative
and history. 6. In His piety towards God. 6. In His spirituality and heavenly-
mindedness. 7. In His obedience to His mean earthly parents. 8. In the sweet-
ness and beauty of His conversation, and yet in a strict and winning way. 9. In
the holiness and purity of His life. 10. In His wonderful patience and meekness.
11. In love to His enemies (Rom. v. 10). (T. Manton, D.D.) And went away
grieved. — Christ left sorrowfully : — I. Hb went awat from Christ, though good.
Alas that the moral should eve be separate from the holy. II. Hb thought so
HIGHLY OP Christ, and yet wb t away from Him. III. He had pure and lofty
aspirations, and yet he went away. Contentment in good is a sign of a poor aim,
rather than a great achievement. His aspiration was weak, though pure. He was
only partially prepared to do *' t e good thing." He had imagined performance
rather than sacrifice. He looked to receive a lesson, not to enter a school. Like
one who would gladly gain healt and soundness at any cost, and then shrinks
from the medicine and the knife- like one who feels quite strong and vigorous ob
CHAP. X.] ST. MARK. 415
the couch, and falls when he attempts to walk. Men may be dissatisfied with their
Bpiritual condition. This comes to naught. They want instruction to go on ; they
receive instructions to begin anew. Instead of being improved, they have to he
detected. IV. He went away, though Jesus loved him. Jesus always is pleased
with justice, goodness, truth ; as far as they go, they are like Himself, and give Him
joy. Jesus loved him : but He loved something more. Jesus may love you, and
yet you may not attain to His righteousness and blessing. There is a point beyond
which He cannot go with sinners, beyond which it would not be saving men, but
forcing machines. V. He went away, AiiTHOUOH he did it bobbowfully. The
sadness of loss — of disappointment — of self-conviction. " Ah I He is right." The
Badness of shame. *• He has seen through me — I have left Him.** But the sorrow did
not prevent his going. Jesus may but baptize you for the dead. You may die and
yet mourn the loss of heaven. There are special times when we may be said to
leave Christ. Such a time is that of deep religious conviction; when we are
obliged by outward circumstances to take a stand. In leaving Christ we leave aU.
Let those who are following Him " cleave to Him vrith full purpose of heart." {A, J,
Morris.) Man good in the lower relationships of life^ lacking in the higher relation-
ships : — So is it often still. Man is in ruins ; but, as you often see in old religioua
houses, the part devoted to godly deeds has gone to utter decay, while that em.
ployed in providing for the lower needs of man is yet in good repair — though the
spirit is wholly lost to God, the meaner but worthy offices of life are well discharged ;
and while the saint cannot be found, the man of the family, the place of business,
and the social circle, are all that could be wished. Christ approved this ruler in the
lower relations of social morality, while He pronounced him essentially defective in
the higher ; and ♦• he went away " from Him in whom all morality might find ita
supplement and stimulus, its truest end and source. {Ibid.)
Vers. 23-27. How hardly shall they that have riches enter into the kingdom of
Qod! — Wealth a fearful snare to the soul: — The Scriptures represent wealth, when
used aright, as a distinguished blessing. It may, and ought to, lead men nearer
to God, instead of driving them far from Him. I. The pride of life. The
Scriptures speak of this as one of the most operative causes of human destruction.
An inordinate and unreasonable self-esteem excludes God from the heart. II. A
STBONO iMPBEssioN OF THEiB PEBSONAL INDEPENDENCE. Though men are abso-
lutely dependent on God, and to a great extent on one another, there is in all ft
natural feeling of independence. Nor will it be denied that wealth is very apt to
foster this unseemly self-rehance, and this haughty contempt of God. III. Thsib
ATTACHMENT TO THIS WORLD. There is DO Toom in the heart for God where it is
pre-occupied by the world. IV. Theib cases and peeplexities. Wherever you
find the greatest amount of secular care and solicitude, there, rest assured, is the
greatest danger of losing the soul. V. The best means of oeace abe babblt
used with the bich and affluent. God has formed no purpose to save any
man irrespective of the appointed means. From these views several reflections
may naturally arise. 1. What melancholy evidence does this subject furnish of
the strange depravity of the human heart. 2. Do not envy the rich. 3. Our
subject then admonishes us to take care how we heap up riches. 4. Our subject
affectionately addresses itself to the rich. Of all those who have hope towards
God, the rich are most in danger of losing the savour and usefulness of piety, and
of being *♦ scarcely saved." And that your riches may prove a blessing, and not
a curse, " set not your hearts upon them," " be not conformed to this world,"
'•use this world as not abusing it, for the fashion of this world passeth away."
You are God's stewards, and must give an account of your stewardship. And to
the rich who are not pious, let me say, is there not fearful reason to apprehend
that you will never enter the kingdom of God ? Everything is leagued against
you. ' 5. Let me say to all, while you envy not the affluent study to do them good.
{Gardiner Spring, D.D.) Use and abuse of riches ;— Kiches neither further nor
hinder salvation in themselves, but as they are used : as a cipher by itself is
nothing, but a figure being set before it, it inoreaseth the sum. Wealth, if well
used, is an ornament, an encouragement to duty, and an instrument of much good.
All the danger lies in loving these things. Have them we may, and use them too,
as a traveller doth his staff, to help him the sooner to his journey's end ; but
when we pass away our hearts to them, they become a mischief. . . . Let not,
therefore, the bramble be king : let not earthly things bear rule over thy affections ;
•• fire will arise out of them, that will consume thy cedars," and emasculate all the
il« THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. x.
powers of thy soul, as they did Solomon's, whose wealth did him more hurt than
his wisdom good. How many have we nowadays who, when poor, could read,
pray, &c., but who, now they have grown rich, resemble the moon, which, grown
full, gets farthest off from the sun, never suffers eclipse but then, and that by
earth's interposition 1 Let rich men therefore take heed how they handle their
thorns: let them gird up the loins of their minds, lest their long garments
hinder them in the way to heaven ; let them see to it, that they be not tied to their
abundance, as little Lentulus was said to have been to his long sword ; that they
be not held prisoners in those golden fetters, as the king of Armenia was by
Anthony, and so sent by him as a present to Cleopatra ; lest at length they send
their mammon of unrighteousness, as Croesus did his fetters, for a present to the
devil, who had deluded him with false hopes of victoi^. {John Trapp.) Wealth
not always desirable : — How many can form any estimate as to whether it is best
for them to be prosperous or not? If I should consult the wheat growing in
spring in the field as to what was best for it, the wheat would say, •* Let me alone.
Let the rain feed me. Let the winds gently strengthen me. Let me grow to my
full height and size." But ah 1 the land on which that wheat is sown is over-rich ;
and if the wheat grows to its full height and size, it will be so fat and heavy that it
will break, and fall down, and be lost. So the farmer turns in his cattle, and
they browse the wheat. They eat it down to the ground. And by and by, later,
when it is allowed to grow, it has been so weakened by this cruel pasturage that it
will not become so rank as to break down, but will stand erect, and carry its head
up, and ripen its grain. Many men will bear browsing. They get too fat, and
cannot carry themselves upright and firm, and they break and fall down ; and the
best of them lies in the ^rt ; and all that stands up is straw and stubble. . . .
Who knows what is best for him ? Some men can endure prosperity, and some
cannot ; but who can discriminate between them ? {H. W. Beecher.) ^ Wealth
genden pride : — Who almost is there whose heart does not swell with his bags ?
and whose thoughts do not follow the proportions of his condition? What
difference has been seen in the same man poor and preferred ? his mind, like a
mushroom, has shot up in a night ; his business is first to forget himself, and then
his friends. When the smi shines, then the peacock displays his train. (R.
Souths D.D.) The rich should grow more humble: — When flowers are full of
heaven-descended dews, they always hang their heads ; but men hold theirs the
Iiigher, the more they receive— getting proud as they get full, (H. W. Beecher.)
Riches often debase the character .-—See yonder lake I The bigger the stream that
runs into it — lying so beautiful and peaceful in the bosom of the shaggy mountain
—the bigger the stream it discharges to water the plains, and, like the path of a
Christian, wend its bright and blissful way on to its parent sea. But, in sad con-
trast with that, the more money some men gain, the less they give ; in proportion
aa their wealth increases, their charities diminish. Have we not met it, monmed
over it, and seen how a man, setting his heart on gold, and hasting to be hob,
came to resemble a vessel with a narrow, contracted neck, out of which water
iiows less freely when it is full than when it is nearly empty? As there is
is a law in physics to explain that fact, there is a law in morals to explain
this. So long as a man has no hope of becoming rich ; so long as he has enough of
bread to eat, of raiment to put on, of health and strength to do his work and fight
his honest way on in the world, he has all man really needs — having that, he doeg
not set his heart on riches ; he is a noble, unselfish, generous, large-hearted, and,
for his circumstances, an open-handed man. But by success in business or other-
wise, let a fortune come within his reach, and he clutches at it — grasps it. Then
what a change 1 His eye, and ear, and hand close ; his sympathies grow dull and
blunt ; his heart contracts and petrifies. Strange to say, plenty in such cases feeds
not poverty but penuriousness ; and the ambition of riches opens a door to the
meanest avarice (T. Quthrie, D.D.) Uncertainty of riches ;— How often have
I thought of riches, when, intruding on their lone domain, I have seen a covey of
wild fowl, from the reeds of the lake or the heather of the hill-side, rise clamorons
on the wing, and fly away I Has not many a man who hasted to be rich, and
made gold his god, hved to become a bankrupt, and die a beggar 1 — buried among
the ruins of his ambitious schemes. {Ibid.) Wealth involves danger : — It was
as much as we could do to keep our feet upon the splendid mosaic floor of the
Palace Giovanelli, at Venice ; we found no such difficulty in the cottage of the
poor glass-blower in the rear. Is it one of the advantages of wealth to have one's
abode polished till all comfort vani^es, and the very floor is as smooth and
. Z.J 8T, MARK. 417
dangerous as a sheet of ice, or is this merely an accidental oiromnstanoe typical
of the dangers of abundance ? Observation shows us that there is a fascination
in wealth which renders it extremely di£&cult for the possessors of it to maintain
their eqnihbrium ; and this is more especially the case where money is suddenly
acquired ; then, unless grace prevents, pride, affectation, and other mean vices
stupify the brain with their sickening fumes, and he who was respectable in poverty,
becomes despicable in prosperity. Pride may lurk under a tlureadbare cloak, but
it prefers the comely broadcloth of the merchant's coat : moths will eat any of our
garments, but they seem to fly first to the costly furs. It is so much the easier for
m&n to fall when walking on wealth's sea of glass, because all men aid them to do
so. Flatterers haunt not cottages : the poor may hear an honest word from his
neighbour, but etiquette forbids that the rich man should enjoy the like privilege ;
for is it not a maxim in Babylon, that rich men have no faults, or only such as their
money, like charity, covereth with a mantle ? What man can help slipping when
everybody is intent upon greasing his ways, so that the smallest chance of standing
may be denied him ? The world's proverb is, *♦ God help the poor, for the rich can
help themselves " ; but to our mind, it is just the rich who have most need of
heaven's help. Dives in scarlet is worse oU than Lazarus in rags, unless Divine
love shall uphold him. (C, H. Spurgeon.) Riches are perilous to the soul : —
Christ does not speak of an impossibility, but of the difficulty of it and the rare-
ness of it. Job unfolded the riddle, and got through the needle's eye with three
thousand camels. But it is hard to be wealthy, and not wanton : too often are
riches, like bird-lime, hindering the soul in its flight towards heaven. {G.Swinnock.)
The snares of afflttence : — I. The snabss of affluencb. 1. It begets on inordinate
love of pleasure. 2. It banishes from the memory all considerations of God and
religion. 8. It produces an insensibility to the attractions of the gospel II. The
PBACTXCAXi BSFLECTIONS THAT ABB SUGGESTBD BT THE SNABES OF AFFLUBMCE. 1.
Affluence is not a proof of a state of grace. 2. The loss of wealth may be a
spiritual gain. 8. Both religion and happiness abound most in the middle region,
between extreme wealth and extreme poverty. 4. The hope of heaven should
reconcile us to present hardship. {Plans of Sermom.) Ruined by riches: — Do
not be over-anxious about riches. Get as much of true wisdom and goodness as
yon can, but be satisfied with a very moderate portion of this world's good. Biches
may prove a curse as well as a blessing. I was walking through an orchard,
looking about me, when I saw a low tree laden more heavily with fruit thtkn
the rest. On a nearer examination, it appeared that the tree had been dragged to
the very earth, and broken by the weight of its treasures. ♦• Oh 1 " said I, gazing
on the tree, " here lies one who has been ruined by his riches." In another part of
my walk I came up with a shepherd, who was lamenting the loss of a sheep that
lay mangled and dead at his feet. On inquiry about the matter, he told me that
a strange dog had attacked the flock ; that the rest of tiie sheep had got away
through a hole in the hedge, but that the ram now dead had more wool on his
back than the rest, and the thorns of the hedge held him fast till the dog had
worried him. " Here is another," said I, '♦ ruined by his riches." At the close ol
my ramble I met a man hobbling along on two wooden legs, leaning on two sticks.
" Tell me," said I, *• my poor fellow, how you came to lose your legs? " •* Why,
sir," said he, '* in my younger days I was a soldier. With a few comrades I at-
tached a party of the enemy, and overcame them, and we began to load ourselves
with spoil. My comrades were satisfied with little, but I burdened myself with as
much as I could carry. We were pursued ; my companions escaped, but I was
overtaken and so cruelly wounded that I only sived my life afterwards by losing my
legs. It was a bad affair, sir; but it is too late to repent it now." "Ah, friend,"
thought I, " like the fruit tree and the mangled sheep, you may date your down-
.fall to your possessions. It was your riches that ruined yoo." When I see so
many rich people, as I do, oaring so much for their bodies and so little for their
souls, I pity them from the bottom of my heart, and sometimes think there are as
many ruined by riches as by poverty. " They that will be rich fall into temptation
and a snare, and into many foolish and hurtful lusts, which drown men in destruc-
tion and perdition " (1 Timothy vi. 9). The prayer will suit you, perhaps, as well
as it does me, " Give me neither poverty nor riches ; feed me with food convenient
for me : lest I be full, and deny Thee, and say, Who is the Lord ? or lest I be poor,
and steal, and take the name of my God in vain " (Prov. xxx. 8, 9). (Old Humphrey.)
A man of the world : — The Interpreter takes them apart again, and nas them first in
a room where was a man that could look no way but downwards, with a muok^raka
27
418 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap, x,
in his hand. There stood also One over his head, with a celestial crown in Hia
hand, and proffered to give him that crown for his muck-rake ; but the man did
neither look up nor regard, but raked to himself the straws, the small sticks, and
the dust of the floor. Then said Christiana, '♦ I persuade myself that I know some-
what the meaning of this ; for this is a figure of a man of this world ; is it not,
good sir?" "Thou hast said the right," said the Interpreter; ''and his muck-
rake doth show his carnal mind. And whereas thou seest him rather give heed to
rake up straws and sticks, and the dust of the floor, than to what He says that
calls to him from above, with the celestial crown in His hand, it is to show that
heaven is but as a fable to some, and that things here are counted the only things
substantial. Now, whereas it was also showed thee that the man could look no
way but downwards, it is to let thee know that earthly things, when they are with
power upon men's mind, quite carry their hearts away from God." Then said
Christiana, '* Oh, deliver me from this muck-rake I *' "That prayer," said the
Interpreter, " has lain by till it is almost rusty. ♦ Give me not riches * (Pro v. xxx.
8) is scarce the prayer of one of ten thousand. Straws and sticks and dust, with
most, are the great things now looked after." {John Bunyan.) A man in danger
through riches : — As a Christian man was passing out of church he met an old
acquaintance whom he had not seen for several years. In the brief interview he
seriously said to him, " I understand that you are in great danger." The remark
was heard with surprise. The friend addressed was not aware of any danger, and
eagerly inquired what was meant. The answer was, " I have been informed that
you are getting rich. " Men of this class are not accustomed to suspect danger
from such a cause. They see none, and they see no reason why others shoidd.
And yet they are in peril ; they are in great peril. They are in danger of making
a god of mammon instead of the living God. They are in danger of seeking to lay
up their treasures on the earth instead of in heaven, as the Saviour exhorts them
to do. To His disciples He said, " Verily, I say unto you, that a rich man shall
hardly enter into the kingdom of God." And Paul thus wrote: " They that will
be rich fall into temptation and a snare, and into many foolish and hurtful lusts,
which drown men in destruction and perdition." Engrossed in worldly cares : —
We keep ourselves in such a continual hurry and crowd of cares, thoughts, and
employments about the things of the body, that we can find little time to be alone,
communing with our own hearts about our great concernments in eternity. It is
with many of us as it was with Archimedes, who was so intent upon drawing his
mathematical schemes, that though all the city was in alarm, the enemy had
taken it by storm, the streets filled with dead bodies, the soldiers come into his
particular house, nay, entered his very study, and plucked him by the sleeve,
before he took any notice of it. Even so, many men's hearts are so profoundly
immersed and drowned in earthly cares, thoughts, projects, or pleasures, that death
must come to their very houses, yea, and pull them by the sleeve, and tell them
its errand, before they will begin to awake, and come to a serious consideration of
things more important. (Flavel.) Sanctified wealth is a blessing, not a hindrance,
to its possessor : — Two men have recently passed away, whose history, as one turns
from their graves to sum it up, is at once a poem and a benediction. They were
both men of large wealth and of inherited culture. They were both men with an
intense love of life, and most human enjoyment of its pleasures. There have not
lived in our generation two men who were more thoroughly alive, to their very
finger ends, or who were more conspicuously exposed to the manifold dangers of
thepossession of great wealth. And yet who, in thinking of them, ever thought of
their money ? And when they died the other day, bereaving the two chief cities of
our land with a sense of personal loss, who asked concerning either of them so
beggarly a question as, ** What did he leave ? " What did they leave P They left
«aoh of them the fragrance of a good name, which is as ointment poured out.
They left their image stamped in the hearts of thousands of men, women, and
children, whose lives they had brightened and ennobled and blessed. Above all,
they left a lesson to you and me of what men can be and do who say to wealth
and the world, " Ton are my servant, not my master ! 1 will not be slothful in
business ; I wUl be fervent in spirit, but it shall be always • serving the Lord.' "
They have taught two great communities that it is possible to be rich and not
•elfish, to have wealth and not be enslaved by it, to use the world as not abusing
it. And to-day, William Welsh, in the Indian wigwam in Niobrara, among the
boys of Girard College with whom he spent a part of every Sunday of his life, in
the homes of the working men of Frankf ord whom he taught to love him as a
. X.] ST. MARK. 419
brother-man; — and Theodore Roosevelt in the newsboy's lodging-honse, in the
cripple's hospital, in the heart of the little ItaUan flower-girl who brought hex
offering of grateful love to his door the day he died, have left behind them monu-
ments the like of which mere wealth could never rear, and the proudest achieve-
ments of human genius never hope to win. They will be remembered when the
men of great fortune who have filled the brief hour with the fame of their millions
shall have vanished into merited oblivion. They may have been poorer than these,
but the world is richer because they were in it, and the influence of their large-
hearted and unselfish lives will be owned and honoured when the mere hoarders
of the day have ceased to have any slightest interest or influence among men, save
as subjects of the somewhat curious and somewhat contemptuous study of the moral
anatomist {Bishop H. C, Potter.) Eight use of wealth .-—Wealth is dangerous;
and the worshipper of mammon, whether he dwell in a palace or a hovel, will find
it equally hard to secure an entrance into the kingdom of God. But wealth, like
other dangerous powers, may be subjected to a wise discipline and a resolute
control. Lightning is dangerous, but men have mastered it and made it do their
bidding. Master your meaner lust for gain, and then make it do your bidding in the
service of your heavenly Master. It is not how many bonds you have in a bank vault,
or how much plate on your side-board, that God looks to see, but how miiny lives
have been brightened and how many sorrows have been healed by the gifts of your
love. The cause of Christ, the cause of truth, the cause of humanity, need your
gifts. But none of them need them half as much as you yourself need the blessed and
ennobling education of being permitted to give them. {Ibid.) Christians ladened
with toealth: — Crossing the Col D'Obbia, the mule laden with our luggage sank in
the snow, nor could it be recovered, until its load was removed ; then, but not till
then, it scrambled out of tlie hole it had made, and pursued its journey. It
reminded us of mariners casting out the lading into the sea to save the vessel, and
we were led to meditate on the dangers of Christians heavily laden with earthly
possessions, and the wise way in which the gracious Father unloads them by their
losses, that they may be enabled to pursue their journey to heaven, and no
longer sink in the snow of camal-mindedness. {G. H. Spurgeon.) In an
interesting article in the Expositor (1st series, iii. 375), Canon Farrar mentions
that some modem travellers in the East state that houses are sometimes pro-
vided with smaller gates in or by the side of larger ones, and tiiat the former are
ealled Es tumm el kayHt, the hole, or eye, of the needle. He also gives the following
extract from the letter of a correspondent :—** In the summer of 1835, when
travelling in the western part of Africa ^orocco), I took up my abode for a time
in the house of a Jew named Bendelak. The house was built quadrangular, having
an open court, in which beautiful plants were flourishing, and where the family eat
in the heat of the day beneath a large awning. High double gates faced the
streets, not unlike our coach-house doors, in one of which was a smaller door
which served as an entrance to the court. Being seated one day in a balcony of
the upper chamber, I suddenly heard the exclamation, * Shut the needle's eye ; shut
the eye.' Looking down, I saw a stray camel trying to push through the little
open doorway. Shortly afterwards I questioned the master of tiie house (a man
whom I can never recall to mind without feelings of the utmost respect), and
learnt from him that the double doors were always called * the needle,' and the
little door * the needle's eye,' which explanation, of course, reminded me forcibly
of the well-known passage in St. Matthew. Bendelak assured me that no camel
would push through *the eye' unless driven by stick or hunger, and always
without any back-load. If the allusion of Christ be to this, it forcibly teaches
the lesson that a rich man must strive and humble himself, must be willing to
leave behind the load of his riches, must hunger for the bread of heaven, or
he can never pass through the narrow way that leadeth unto Ufe eternal."
TJie danger of riches: — 1. In the first place comes, very naturally, the idea of the
young, that riches, in and of themselves, create happiness. A man's happlDcss
depends upon what he is. If his feelings are right, and he is capable of beiug
h&PP7i riches will make him happy ; but if these conditions do not exist, then
riches will not make him happy. 2. Then comes the idea that riches are a
•abstitute for character in the eyes of men. There is an impression, if a man
is only rich, he can do what he has a mind to, and that the world will accept his
riches in lien of excellence. 8. Passing to another great peril, riches and the
it of them are apt to absorb the life and time f men to a degr e that shall
them to mere external things, so that they have yexy little leisure and less
pnrraiti
nani68s
420 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [obay. X.
disposition for Belf-cnltore. 4. Biches are apt to lift a mac away from sympathy
with common humanity ; and that is always a sign of, and a step toward, deteriora-
tion. 6. Then there is a great tendency in riches to pamper a man's pride. (H. W,
Beecher.) Riches do not of themselves create happiness : — ^Now, it is very tme
that riches are a power which, if rightly appUed or used, may create happiness ;
bnt it is not true that riches, in and of themselves, ever do make men happy ; and
this indiscriminate notion, as an ideal on which they base their life, will be fatal to
iheir happiness. If a man is prepared for happiness riches can make him happy.
A man is an organ. I do not care if Beethoven is put before an organ that has
not a pipe, and whose bellows is split, I do not care who plays on such an instru-
ment as that, you will not get any music. And if the organ were perfect, and there
was nobody that knew how to play, you would not get any music either. Where
you get music you must have two things : a good instrument and a good performer
on it. Now happiness, conducted on a great scale in life, requires that there should
be a performer — and riches are the performer ; but what does it play on T An empty
case, a wind-bag, a leathern pocket, an old iron chest, a rusty old miser. Do riches
bring out anything in the way of happiness ? Of themselves, no, they do not.
The rich are not the happy folks in the world, as a rule. A great many of them
are the most happy people on the globe; a man who has riches, and is otherwise
rightly attuned, certainly can command as much happiness as any other man on
the face of the earth ; nobody can be any happier than he has the capacity of being.
A man is happy according as he can generate sensibility of brain and nerve. Some
men generate only five pounds, some generate fifteen pounds, and some generate
twenty-five pounds. So some men can be happy a little bit, while others can be
happy a great deal. Some men are not bigger than a daisy, and they can have only so
much sunlight as can get into their disc. A man cannot be happy in one spot and
miserable everywhere else, any more than he can have the toothache and
feel well everywhere else but in his tooth. Happiness must have harmony
in it. Where there is not harmony there is no happiness. If two-thirds of
a man's nature is morbid and wrong, the other third is not going to rule
them down, and compel happiness. I think that when a man has good
manners, and is a gentleman, good clothes are very becoming and comfortable to
him, and pleasant to everybody else ; but good clothes do not make a gentleman,
any more than riches make a man happy. (Ibid.) Man more than money: — I
do not object to a man's having a good deal of property ; I do not object to his
having beautiful grounds, and making them shine Uke a garden of Eden, if he
can ; I do not object to his building himself a magnificent mansion, and storing it
with whatever art can give ; I admire the grounds, I admire the house, I admire
tlie furniture, and I justify them. But now let me see the man. When a man has
risen in wealth so that he can have fine grounds, a fine house and fine furniture, he
ought to have something even grander in himself ; and yet how many men are
there that are like a monkey in an oriental palace, men that are ignorant, empty,
narrow, conceited, poverty-stricken inside, but that outside glow like a rainbow!
How m any men there are that make the power of money in their hands simply
picturesque, grotesque ! (Ibid). Who then can be saved 7 — The disciples wonder-
ing at the difficulties of salvation : — Salvation 1 What so desirable and necessary?
Why so difficult to obtain. I. You know what salvation is. Deliverence from
condemnation, and placing us, pure and happy, in God's kingdom. We must take
care that we do not mistake as to where the difficulty lies. It is not in God, not in
Ch:ist; willing and able "to save to the uttermost." 1. There is the difficulty
arising out of the pride of our hearts — the difficulty of falling in with God's way
of saving us. Salvation of grace troubles us. 2. There is the difficulty of com-
plying with God's terms of salvation. We trace this to unbelief. The tidings of
the gospel seem too good to be credited. 3. The difficulty of our seeking, or even
accepting, such a salvation as God offers. It is a deliverance from the love and
power of sin. We are by nature unholy, salvation crucifies all that nature dehghts
in ; hence difficulty. II. What the disciples felt at the prospect of thbsb
niFFicDLTiBS, 1. Wouder. " They were astonished out of measure." There was
a time when we considered salvation easy ; God was regarded as merciful. No
sooner did the Holy Spirit make us alive to our spiritual welfare, than wonder
came as described in the text. They wondered at the patience of God, at His
amazing grace, and the mountain of difficulties which lies between them and
heaven. 2. The other feeling we discover in these men is despair — •* Who then can
be saved ? " We must learn to look beyond our spiritual difficulties, if ever wt
OBA». X.] 8T. MARK, 4S1
would be oarried over them. HI. Oub Lobd's jxtdoment ooNOBBNiNa thm mattbb.
** You are right," He says, " up to a certain ^oint ; beyond that you are altogether
wrong." 1. They were partially right. It is difficult for a man to overcome the
difficulties between him and heaven. He is weak as well as sinful ; must despair of his
own power to attain salvation. Self-sufficiency, like self -righteousness, insurmount.
able obstacle in our journey heavenwards. 2. But these disciples were also wrong.
He tells them that salvation was never intended to be man's work ; but God's.
What omnipotence undertakes can be carried through. 3. How compassionately
He says this — ♦* You have felt My power, difficulties have vanished." Apply : 1.
Some of you know nothing at all of the difficulties of salvation. 3. Others of
you, like those disciples, have just begun to see the difficulties that lie before you.
3. A few of you have been long accustomed to spiritual difficulties. (C. Bradley.)
The difficuUie» of salvation: — I. Let us notice more particularly some or thb
DnncDLTiBs IN thb way of salvation. 1. The truths to be believed are some of
them very mysterious. 2. The sacrifices to be made are also in some degree pain-
ful. 3. The dispositions to be exercised are such as are contrary to the natural
bias of our depraved hearts. 4. The duties to be performed. 5. The trouble and
danger to which religion exposes its professors. U. Attempt to answeb the
inquiby — " Who then can be saved? " Certainly not those who neglect the means
of salvation ; nor those who prefer other things before it ; nor those who think to
attain it in any other way than God has appointed. 1. Such shall be saved as are
appointed to it. 2. Those shall be saved who are truly desirous of it. 3. Those
who come to Christ for salvation shall be sure to obtain it. 4. Such as endure to
the end shall be saved. (B. Beddome^ M.A,)
Vers. 28-31. Lo, we have left all, and followed Thee. — Sacrifice and reward : —
Clirist had pity for this young man. He saw his soul visited by the dream of a more
perfect life ; then the dissolving of the dream and the return to commonplace. It
were impossible not to pity his after life, for he could never be the same again.
*' How hardly shall they that have riches enter into the Kingdom of God." The disci-
ples felt the difficulty. Then Peter said, " We have left all," &c. " It was very ill done
of them," we say, " very selfishly thought, and no good could come of it." That is
the hard way in which we speak, but we forget, when we ask this fine spirituality from
men who are beginning the higher life, that we are asking more than human nature
can bear. We are asking of the student the self-denial of the scholar. Christ did not
ask this ; He was tender to spiritual childhood. He was satisfied with the seeds of
affection. He knew that if love was there it would grow, and that as their mind
advanced and their love changed to higher love, the reward desired would also
change. I. The sacbifice aseed fob hebe was to give up the whole wobld
AND its goods ; TO GIVE THEM TO THE POOB AND TO FOLLOW ChEIST. Is HO OHO a
Christian who does not utterly make it ? Christ always asked for sacrifice of life, of
self, for God. That is the principle. In this case a special form of the life was
asked for, and for a special reason. The sacrifice of wealth was the special form.
The special reason was this. Christ was the founder of a new method of religion ;
He wanted missionaries to propagate it. No one could think of Paul or Xavier or
Henry Martyn with great possessions, without a smile at the incongruity. Apostolio
work could not be done by a man with ten thousand a year. The special form of
the demand was motived by special circumstances. Such a demand was not made
of all rich men ; it would be contrary to the universal character of His religion,
which was to enter into the life of all classes, rich and poor, as a spirit. It
would shut out all rich men from Christianity; it would upturn society for no
good. In fifty years all the industrious and intelligent would be rich again. It would
be wrong ; for wealth has its duties, its own ideal of life. The wealthy are bound
to keep their wealth, and to use it, but in obedience to the spirit of sacrifice. IL
All this kind of tale comes fbom persons being foolish enough to bind a spiri-
tual IDEA INTO ONE SPECIAL FORM. The Spirit of Sacrifice may express itself in a
thousand -different ways, even in opposite ways in different men, It may be the
giving up of wealth in one man, the taking up its duties in another. One man may
sacrifice by leaving those whom he loves, another by remaining at home. Take the
principle ; do not limit it to one meaning. That is one characteristic of the idea of
sacrifice. It cannot be specialized. In one point the special demand made on the
rich man is in accord with the whole idea of sacrifice ; it is in its absoluteness. It
asks us to give up all our selfish life. " It is an impossible demand," say these
persons. It was original, and Christ knew it. It did not say, like the moral law — this
4M TEE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. x.
4o and yon shall live, and yon can do it. It did say ** This ideal life I set before yon
is far beyond mere oonformity with law. It is perfection. You shall not live by
doing it completely, but by loving it and labouring towards it. It will transcend
eternal endeavour, and thus secure eternal progress. The morality of the law is
measurable, it stops at a certain point. The righteousness I put before you is
immeasurable, infinite as God." It was a higher method than that of the moralist.
It is orUy by loving and following illimitable ideas that man grows great. Their
impossibility is Uieir highest virtue, and awakens the highest virtue ; they kindle
unfading aspiration. It is better for man to live by than the standard of im-
morality. I now turn to the question of reward as illustrated by the answer of
Christ. It is the custom now to say that we are to live the high life without a
•ingle hope of future reward ; to hope for it is to set religion on a selfish basis.
But there is no selfishness in the doctrine of rewards offered by Christ. His
rewards are naturally connected with the acts, following from them and contained
in them, as a flower follows from, and is contained in, the seed. The word fruits is
better than the word rewards. The fruits are multiplied results. To live,
hoping for the reward of a more unselfish life, and becoming more unselfish
M one hopes and acts for such a life — is it not too ludicrous to call that a selfish
motive ? The man who gave up lands, houses, (&c., received them tenfold ; but not in
ja way which could serve his selfishness ; on the contrary, in a way which increased
f%e spirit of a larger love. It lifted above the narrow circle of an isolated family
into union with mankind. Eternal life is another reward promised by Christ. " He
that beheveth on Me hath everlasting life." It may co-exist with what the world
eaUs misery — " with persecutions." It cannot be material ease. So far, the element
of ease or happitfess is excluded. Love doubles itself by loving. Truth in us in-
creases by being true. Mercy, purity, faith, hope, bring forth themselves in multi-
plied abxmdance. The sum of them all is a life with God and in God, and that is
eternal life, a state of the soul. It cannot be selfish, it puts before man as his highest
aim, onion with God. {S. A. Brooke, M.A.) Love consistent with reward : — And
the heart, do you believe that it can reconcile itself to your cold doctrine, and always
love without hoping for return ? It does not calculate, doubtless, but it believes
that its flights do not disappear in a void. What is more disinterested than the
love of a mo^er ? Does she love her infant in order to be recompensed ? Ah !
though one should come and tell her that she must die before that infant can
respond to her affection and reward her by a word, will she love it less, will she use
the less on its behalf all that remains to her of energy and of life ? Are there not
•very day and in aU classes those martyrs of maternal love 7 And yet will you
accuse a mother of loving less because, looking towards the future, she dreams with
tremors of joy of the day when her infant's look will respond to her look, when its
heart will understand her, and when she will find in it her strength and her
recompense? Her recompense, I have said. . . . Well, be consistent. Call her
mercenary, accuse her of devoting herself to her task through self-interest, drag
her to the tribunal of the human conscience, and, if she comes away from it con-
demned, you shall drag there the Christian who seeks his joy and his wages in the
love of God, who finds his true Hfe there, and who thirsts for immortality, because
he thirsts for an eternal love. {E. Bersier^ D,D.) Following Christ : — I. What
ZB INVOLVED IN BBiMO A TRUE FOLLOWEB OF Ghbist ? 1. Partaking of His spiritual
nature — being bom again. 2. Besting upon the infinite merit of His atonement as
the only ground of acceptance with God. 8. Sitting at His feet as a humble learner.
n. What abb the distinguishino chabacteeistics of the followeb of Chbist ? 1.
Willingne.'s. 2. Humility. 3. Constancy, 4. Intimacy. Not as Peter, who
followed afar off. 6. Eiclusiveness— Jesus only. III. What abe the bewabds of
THE FOiiLowEB OF Ghbist 7 1. Souship. 2. Constant access to God. 3. The
presence of Christ. 4. Protection in danger. 6. Light in darkness. 6. Salvation
here and glory hereafter. {Anon.) Go<Vs mode of recompensing telf-sacrifice : —
The man who renounces temporal advantages for Christ's sake, is rewarded in kind
as follows. 1. He has communion with God and His consolations, which are better
than all he has given up ; as Caleacius, that Italian marquis who left all for Christ,
avowed them ; and as Paulinus Nolanus, when his city was taken by the barbariaus,
prayed thus to God, *' Lord, let me not be troubled at the loss of my gold and silver,
for Thou art all in all to me." Communion wit Jesus Christ is heaven before-
hand, the anticipation of glory, 2. God often gives His suffering servants here such
supplies of their outward losses, in raising them u other friends and means, as do
abundantly outweigh what they have parted with. David was driven from his wife \
. z.] ST. MARK. 439
but gained, in Jonathan, a friend whose love was beyond that of women. So
thoagh Naomi lost her hnsband and children, Boaz, Buth, and Obed became to her
instead of all. The apostles left their houses and household stuff to follow Christ,
but then they had the houses of all godly people open to them, and free for them,
and happy was that Ljdia who could entertain them ; so that, haying nothing, they
yet possessed all things. They left a few friends, but they found far more where-
ever they came. 3. God commonly exalts His people to the contrary good to that
evil they suffer for Him ; as Joseph, from being a slave became a ruler ; as Christ,
who was judged by men, is Judge of all. The first thing that Caius did, after he
came to the empire, was to prefer Agrippa, who had been imprisoned for wishing
him emperor. The king of Poland sent Zelislaus, his general, who had lost hia
hand in war, a golden hand instead of it. God is far more liberal to those who
serve and suffer for Him. Can any son of Jesse do for us as He can P {John Trapp.)
The Lord's reply to Peter shows: — 1. That he does not need man's work in the
sense that He must pay wages for it. There is no comparison between what is
given ; an hundredfold will be returned. 2. That Christian work must be done in
the spirit of devotion, not of calculation. Many of the first may work in a wrong
spirit, and become last. 3. The reward may not come in this life ; the work is
spiritual, as are the wages. (T. M. Lindsay, D.D.) Reward of self-sacrifice : —
Jesus, knowing out of the depth of His own experience how great is the joy of self-
sacrifice, how transcendently superior to anything else, assures them that they will
have their reward both here and hereafter. Here, in a vastly intensified apprecia-
tion of earthly enjoyments, finding new homes and new friends wherever they go,
and seeing new beauty in the commonest things — in earth and air, and sky and sea.
It was true they would meet with persecutions, but these would not mar their
happiness, for by a mysterious law, understood by those alone who experi-
enced them, they were accompanied by a joy unspeakable and full of glory.
And hereafter they would receive the fullest compensation, an eternal weight of
glory in the life everlasting. {H. M. Luckock, D.D.) **My Father's wiW: —
A pious old man was one day walking to the sanctuary with a New Testament in
his hand, when a friend who met him said, " Good-morning, neighbour." •♦ Ah !
Good-morning," repUed he ; " I am reading my Father's will as I walk along. "
•• Well, what has He left you ? " said his friend. "Why, He has bequeathed me a
hundredfold more in this life, and, in the world to come, life everlasting." It was
a word in season ; his Christian friend was in circumstances of affliction, but he
went home comforted. Things to come are yours : — Had Queen EUzabeth fore-
known, whilst she was in prison, what a glorious reign she would have for forty-four
years, she would never have wished herself a milk-maid. So, did but the saints
understand what great things abide them botii here and hereafter, they would bear
anything cheerfully. {John Trapp,)
Ver. 32-34. And they were In the way going up to Jemsalem. — Christ on the
road to the cross : — Full of calm resolve Christ comes forth to die. Behold the
little company on the steep rocky mountain road that leads up from Jericho to
Jerusalem ; our Lord far in advance of His followers, with a fixed purpose stamped
upon His face, and something of haste in His stride, and that in EUs whole
demeanour which shed a strange astonishment and awe over the group of silent
and uncomprehending disciples. I. Wb have herb what, roB want of a betteb
NAME, I WOULD CALL THE HEBoio Chbist. The Ideal Man unites in Himself what
men are in the habit, somewhat superciliously, of calling the masculine virtues, as
well as those which they somewhat contemptuously designate the feminine. He
reads to us the lesson, that we must resist and persist, whatever stands between us
and our goal. The most tenacious steel is the most flexible, and he who has the
most fixed and definite resolve may be the one whose heart is most open to aU
human sympathies, and is strong with the almightincss of gentleness. U. The
BEL»-8ACRiriciNG Chbist. Hastening to His cross ; surrendering Himself to death.
His self-sacrifice was not the flinging away of the life which He ought to have
preserved, nor carelessness, nor the fanaticism of a martyr, nor the enthusiasm of
a hero and champion ; but the voluntary death of Him who of His own will became
in His death the oblation and satisfaction for the sins of the whole world. III. The
BHBiNEiNO Christ. May not part of the reason for His haste have been that
instinct which we all have, when some inevitable grief or pain lies before us, to get
it over soon, and to abbreviate the moments that He between us and it ? (See Luke
xii. 50 ; John xiii. 27.) In Christ this natural instinct never became a desire ox
iU THE BIBLICAL ILLVSTBATOR. [cha». I.
pnrpoBe. It had bo mnch power over Him as to make Him march a little faster ta
the cross, bnt it never made Him turn from it. IV. Thk lonely Ghbist. X7n-
appreciated aims ; unshared purposes ; misunderstood sorrow ; solitude of death —
all this He bore, that no human soul, living or dying, might ever be lonely any
more. (-4. Maclaren, D.D.) The Saviour** alacrity to reach the end of Hi*
course : — A lowly band of travellers journeying towards Jerusalem. Already they
are within sight of the hills that encompass the capital. One of the company oat-
strips the rest. His countenance is lit up with joyous expression, like that which
glows on the face of one who, after long absence, is again drawing near to hi»
father's house. It is Christ ; and He is going up to Jerusalem to expiate a world's
guilt by the sacrifice of Himself. Sorrows such as have never yet filled the breast
of man await Him there ; and least of all is it ignorance of what is before Him,
which makes Him in haste to press forward. What was it that prompted Him to
such eagerness? He designed to teach by action (1) a doctrine for His disciples to
learn, viz., the necessity of His suffering, and suffering alone. In the work on
which He was now entering, no man could be associated with Him. He must go
before. (2) An example for them to follow. If He goes first, they come next. By
His alacrity He would teach them how noble a thing it is to suffer in a good cause.
They would think of this afterwards, and take courage. They would recollect the
insignificance of all their sufferings as contrasted with His ; and as they remem-
bered this, the thought how bravely the Saviour went forward in the path of triba>
lation would nerve them to endurance, and make them almost impervious to fear. Arm
yourselves with the like mind, and blush at the very thought of cowardice or retreat
when summoned to suffer for the Bedeemer's sake, remembering how eagerly He
*• went before." (JR. Bichersteth) Christ** life founded on a plan: — There was
no uncertainty or experiment about that life ; every detail was foreseen from the
beginning. Every man's life may be planned by Divine wisdom, but the man him-
seU is ignorant of his own course, unable to foresee the next hour. 2. That Jesus
Christ knew all the developments of His plan of Bfe. The sorrow of the first day,
the sleep of the second, the triumph of the third, were all before Him, as conditions
of His daily labour. 3. That though He knew the result. He patiently fulfilled the
whole process. There was no precipitancy ; there was no f retf ulness ; every case of
need was attended to as though it were the only case in the world. The Christian
knows that heaven will be his portion at last ; let him be stimulated to constant
activity, as though human want demanded his whole attention. 4. That Jews and
Gentiles were alike engaged in carrying on a work which was for the highest benefit
of the whole world. How unconsciously we work 1 We may be pulling down in
the very act of setting up. 6. That the assured triumph of the right is a source
of strength to the good man. Jesus Christ spoke not of the crucifixion, but ol
" the third day." The picture was not all gloomy. Light broke through the
very centre of the darkness. How hopeless, but for "the third day," is the lot of
suffering men. The third day may suggest (a) the brevity of bad influence ; (6)
the impossibility of destroying that which is good, and (c) the transference of power
from a temporary despotism to an eternal and beneficent sovereignty. Brief and
frail is the tenure of all malign powers. (F. Wagstaff.) The cross, the object of
desire. I. That the cboss should havb been an object of desibb and or intbnbb
LONGING TO ODB SaVIOUB'S HEABl IS A STATEMENT TOO BEMABKABLB TO BE BABELT
ASSERTED. Such a death was abhorred by all mankind. It was a death of
ignominy, agony, and shame. Yet, contrary to the universal sentiment, Christ
desired it. That the cross was a token of desire rather than fear will be seen by
the way oui Lord checked every hindrance or suggestion raised against it, and by
His words and deportment as He approached it (Matt. xvi. 23). He desired the
cross, and wanted to communicate that desire to others. On one occasion He
reveals His desire in most remarkable language (Luke xii. 60). When He entered
the Samaritan village, we are told *' His face was as though He would go to
Jerusalem " (Luke ix. 53). The text discloses the same zeal — •' Behold we go up to
Jerusalem " ; a sentence which sounds the key-note of triumph. His eager gait
betokened the onward desire of His soul. II. We would consideb the beasons
FOB THIS DEsiBE. The cross could not be in itself an object of desire. It was not
hke the joy set before Him at the Father's right hand ; if desired at all, it mast be
because of its results. These were in two directions— one in relation to God, the
other to man. The glory of God and the salvation of man were the ruling motives
of Christ's conduct. We can all str've to be like Him in His inward life, though only
martyrs are completely like Him i His outward hfe. His great motive was the
. X.] 8T, MARK. 42S
glorifying of the Father (John v. 30). God was glorified on Calvary (John xvii. 1).
The oroBB was the Divine way of repairing the honour of God, which had been
outraged by sin. The heart of Jesus was consumed with this desire of a reparatior
which was in His power. We know what it is to bum with indignation, when one
who is loved, is offended and unjustly injured; how then must the true perception
of sin have kindled the flame of desire for the cross in the Man Christ Jesus. Also
the cross was to be the means of glorifying God by manifesting the Divine character
— harmonizing mercy and justice ; it was to be the witness of love — removing such
misconceptions of the Deity, as may have arisen from the misery of sin. Thus
viewed in relation to God, the cross was to Christ an object of desire. His love for
us made it an object of desire on the human side. The cross was necessary ac-
cording to the predestination of God as a means for imparting life to others
(John xii. 24). Thus an object of desire ; for to restore the creature must redound
to the glory of the Creator. HI. The qbbatnkss of that desirb. Its greatness
lies in its intensity and purity — ''Jesus went before them." It was not a mere im-
pulse which prompted this onward movement, as the hero is carried forward in the
excitement of battle. All impulse in Jesus was regulated by His calm mind and
Sirfect will, therefore vehemency of action betokened the ardour of His sov"
oreover, our desires are in proportion to the strength of our inward facultiw:.
Their intensity will depend upon the vigour of our wills and the reach of our minds.
The mind must present the object sought. The perfection of Christ's mind will
show the strength of His desires. He saw the cross with all its detail of suffering.
He saw all the effects of the cross. He looked beyond it and traced all its powers;
all the powers of grace and supernatural beauty which would result from the merit
of His passion ; He saw the saints enjoying countless ages of happiness in heaven.
Hence the intensity of His desire for the cross. 2. This desire may be measured
by the natural fear which it overpowered. As man, Christ feared death and suffer-
ing. Pure human nature shrinks from torture. S. The greatness of this desire of
Christ for the cross, consists in its purity as well as intensity. With all the
vehemency of our Saviour's zeal, there was calmness of spirit and an obedient will.
The purity of desire lies also in the nature of the cross Ho had to bear, of shame
and desolation. The hiding of the Father's face separates His cross from that of
the martyr. It was comfortless suffering. The cross, too, was a punishment viewed
with contempt. Some desire to suffer great things, because their greatness brings
renown. Pride will support much bodily mortification ; the cross had at that time
only tiie aspect of humiliation. Christ took His disciples aside that He might
impart to them His desire. He wanted to cast out of that fountain of fire which
glowed within His own soul some sparks which might inflame them also — " Behold
we go up." He suffers not only instead of us, but also to purchase for us power
and grace to suffer with Him and for Him. He has not removed the necessity of
suffering by His suffering, any more than He has removed the necessity of temp-
tation by His being tempted. The same cross whereby we are redeemed promul-
gates, as the condition of emancipation, the law of mortification. The desire of the
cross Christ communicates to His members. St. Paul prays "that I may know Him,
and the fellowship of His sufferings." It must begin with the mortification of our
lower nature (Gal. y. 24). It is a high pitch of nature to desire to suffer as a means
of closer union with our Lord ; we must first learn to bear crosses without murmur-
ing ; then to accept them with resignation ; and, lastly, to meet them with desire
and joy. {W. H. HutcUngs, M.A.) As they followed they were afraid.
Following Jenu fearingly : — See the union of two apparently contradictory things.
The fear was not enough to stop the following, nor the following sufficient to arrest
the fear. That walk up to Jerusalem illustrative of the pa^ to heaven. You
follow Christ, you love Him too much not to follow Him. But your religion is an
amazement ; it creates fear. Certainly, if you were not a follower, you would not
be a fearer. I never knew any one begin to fear till God had begun to love him,
and he had begun to love God. The fear is an index that you ore on the road.
Fear 1 ought we not to be beyond it ; ought not to be the motive. How is it that
a real follower may be a real fearer ? I. Thet had not adequate idkas or Htm
WBOM THEY FOLLOWED. They did not know what exceeding care He takes of His
own. If you knew the character and work of Christ you would get rid of fear.
II. Thouoh the disciples loved Christ, they did not love Hiu as Hk dbskbved.
If they had, the love would have absorbed the fear ; they would have rejoiced to
die with Him. lU. They had not, what the Master had, one great, fixkd, sus-
tAXHixa AIM. This will lift above the petty shafts of little disturbanoea ; obovt
426 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [ohap. X.
yonrself. lY. Thk disoiples had thbib veabs undefimbd. It was the indefinite
which terrified them. Take these four rales. 1. Yon that follow and are afraid,
fortify yourself in the thought of what Christ is — His Person, work, covenant ; and
what He is to you. 2. Love Him very much, and realize your union with Him.
3. Set a high mark, and carry your life in your hand, so you may reach that mark,
and do something for God. 4. Often stop and say deliberately to yourself, ** Why
art thou cast down, 0 my soul." Many increase their fears by thinking so much
about them. The onward going will gradually overcome the inward fear. (<7^.
Vaughan, 3I.A.) Following and fearing : — Experience ought to teach us that
our fears are seldom fulfilled. I. " As they followed " ; then even the olobioub abmi
OF MARTYRS WERE AFRAID. For "they" iucludes Si Peter. Fears disheartened
them. Never let us think that the greatest souls are heroic right through, ever and
always. The battle with the fiesh was keen in them. Besides, some fears have
their moral uses. It is well to be afraid of ourselves, if our dependence on Christ
is strengthened. Then, what courage may not fear afterwards merge intol U.
" As they followed " : them fear did mot himdeb their progress. If there was
fear in their hearts, there was fidelity in their steps. HI. " As they followed" ; them
we need not doubt our discipleship because wb are afbaid. It is indifference
that is to be dreaded, and presumptuous self-confidence. Forgiveness is needed
for others, not for them. IV. ♦' As they followed " : then the departure of soioi
FEARS DOES NOT DO AWAY WITH THEM ALL. They did not fear poverty, they had left
all to follow Christ ; they did not fear change in Jesus, they found His word of promise
sure. We shall never lose all fears here ; this discipline is wise for us. V. " As they
followed " ; then let none turn back. Even when the intellectual beliefs are
burdened with difficulty, never be afraid. Follow on. Be faithful unto death.
{W. M. Statham.) As they followed, they were afraid : — The disciples* conduct.
Up to the very period of Christ's death and resurrection, the disciples looked for-
ward to His manifestation as a prince who should release their nation from bondage,
and advance it to an hitherto unattained height of glory and dominion. All along
they had been staggered at the meanness of their Master's outward appearance ;
and now they were amazed to find that the expected Deliverer of mankind was
on His way to suffering. They could not understand it. They were amazed, too,
at His readiness to suffer. He was advancing to the cross, like a victor to his
crown. We must note here that (1) they followed. This is to their praise. They
knew He was going on to death, yet they did not desert Him. They had true faith.
But it was also weak faith, for (2) they were afraid. Strange, that while with Him
they should fear. They thus missed much of the comfort they might have derived
from His companionship. Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea are instances of the
same — a true but weak faith — a faith which does not fill its possessor with peace.
Let us not rest in a timorous faith. Let us be vaUant for the truth. We have not
the same excuse for fear that they had. They had not then experienced the
Eesurrection, the Ascension, the gift of the Comforter. When once the Spirit was
given, they no longer knew fear. Shame on us, if with all our superior knowledge
and privilege, we cast not aside the fear of man, and follow Jesus, with diligence
to do, and with readiness to suffer, whatever He is pleased to prescribe or appoint.
(E. Biekersteth.)
Vers. 35-45. Master, we would that Thou shouldest do for ns what80«yer m
shall desire. — Christ's last journey to Jerusalem: — I. Self-seekino. It is a
plausible maxim of this world which says : *' Every man for himself." Prominent
places are secured by those who seek them diligently, with shrewd management and
artful manoeuvring. Why should not this principle be extended into the next world,
and our prudence take merely a little longer range in looking out for the main chance?
Many people seem to have convinced themselves that in striving to outdo one
another they are simply obeying a necessary law — the law of emulation ; and have
much to say about the wholesomeness of competition. In this narrative we see
what effect self-seeking had on the disciples. 1. It blinded their eyes to the glory of
the Son of God. Men seeking conspicuous places cannot understand the mind which
was in Christ Jesus, who made Himself of no reputation, and humbled Himself to
the cross. What oould they know of His going up to Jerusalem ? They saw only
thrones and kingdoms. A self-seeking spirit cannot enter into the kingdom of God.
2. It plunged the disciples into a quarrel on the eve of a great occasion. It con-
Terts the world into a place of violence. 3. It put the disciples into a false attitud*
of presumption, undertaking more than they were able to. " Ihey say unto Him, Wf
OHAP. X.] ST. MARK, 437
are able." In a strength greater than their own they were indeed to drink of Wm
cup ; but only after learning their own weakness. 4. The spirit of self-aeekina
confused their notions of dominion. They had adopted the maxima of tS
Gentiles, and were in danger of beheving that a man was great simply because he
exercised authority. Position does not make the man. II. Sblf-saobificb—
" Whosoever wiU be great among you," &o. 1. The courage of self-saorifice— •• We
go up to Jerusalem." It shrinks from no danger. 2. The universality of self-
sacrifice. Each man is to become like the Man Christ Jesus. 3. The reward of
self-sacrifice. 4. The kingdom of self-saorifice. Power to bless and rule
(E. B. Mason.) The greatness of service .—It is clear that the whole passage
we are to study to-day arranges itself easily around these three particulars:
the fact of which they were aware, the counsel which He wished to add to
It, and the argument from the one with which He proposed to enforce the other
(see also Matt. xx. 25-28). I. What they knew was this : in all the forms of
government around them, ecclesiastical or political, with which they were
acquamted, the principle of «♦ lordship " held sway. 1. In those times the pro-
minent matter of notice was a tremendous hierarchy in the Jewish Church, and a
domineering aristocracy in the Eoman government. The ancient people of God had
travestied His word, and perverted His ordinances, and forfeited His favour. The
♦• rulers" usurped authority everywhere in matters of faith and conscience. They
destroyed the revelation from heaven by overlaying of human traditions. And as
they continued to grow unrighteous, they began to grow oppressive. And surely,
those Jewish disciples needed only to be reminded of the hateful superciliousness
of the Boman empire that was holding their nation in captivity. They did indeed
know that their "great ones exercised authority upon them." 2. In our times
the picture is quite like the old one in every point. Leave men to themselves, and
the systems they are sure to construct will be centralized and monarchical. The
common people will be dominated by lords, and the lords will have dukes, and the
dukes will be put under » king. The one principle of organization is, that
each one will try to monopolize position and power, and, by crowding down
aJl he can beneath him, will seek to elevate himself mto rule over the masses.
Louis of France only uttered the universal sentiment when he gave his word to
history : he was reminded that there was a State which ought to be considered :
" L'6tat ! o'est moi I " was his answer : ♦« The State 1 1 am the State I '» Look at the
Papal Church, or the Greek Church. There are the poor worshippers that pray
and pay and obey their leaders. Over these are the priests, then the prelates, then
the archbishops, and ecclesiastics without number, narrowing in and rising up till
they reach the patriarch or the pope. And even the tiara has its triple crown,
running straight up to one point. 3. In all tunes this is almost inevitably the
same. For unregenerate human nature is selfish and domineering. This is what
"ye know." The best figure of this is a pyramid. Builders construct these
masses of solid stone out of blocks. They place the lowest layer on abnost a half-
acre of land. After a base is made, they draw in a step on every side, then rise
for a new layer ; then narrow in, and rise again. So the structure lifts itself aloft
till the apex crowns it with a single stone. The people are at the bottom ; the
artisans, the paupers, the slaves, the great wrestling toilers, whom everybody pro-
poses to live upon and domineer over, if he can. Then there come landholders
and monopolists and capitalists. After this, we expect to find some aristocrats,
with titles, and entails of primogeniture. So we reach what are called nobles ; and
6o on indefinitely, all working towards a pinnacle at the top. II. This, Christ
says, " ye know ; " and now He adds to it a counsel of His own : " so it shall not
be among you" (v. 43). 1. He surprised His followers by relinquishing the
•• lordship " and disclaiming the "authority." We must be careful to notice that
He did not forbid ambition as a motive ; He sought only to direct it into a new
exercise (v. 44). He did not say it was wrong to wish to be " chiefest," but told them
that a Christian should desire to be chief servant to all. 2. He suggested that the
humblest service constituted the highest dignity (v. 44). 8. Thus He completely
reverses the whole notion of those who looked for lordship. Let us come back to
the figure which we just left. The " chief " should be at the base, thw " servant "
of all those above. III. Now we are ready to notice the argument with which Jesus
enforces His extraordinary counsel : He offers Himself as an example for absolute
imitation (v. 45). Consider the plain fact in this case. Let us turn to a passage in
one of Paul's Epistles (2 Cor. viii. 9). [G. S. Eobinson, D.D.) A religion which
develops the fit and the twe/wi .•— This was Christ's eternal principle, "the truest
428 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [ohap. :^
supremacy is the most faithful semoe to men." The view of Christianity
which looks upon religion as an excellent way of "getting something," is, wa
trust, fast dying out. Christ removed the question of getting to the level of
enduring and doing. The most irresistible power in the world is the power of on-
selfishness. Is self-sacrifice possible, when self-sacrifice is, in reality, self-gain f
These two disciples proved to be, although they little expected it, perfect types of
that of which our Lord was speaking. James was the first apostle to receive the
crown of martyrdom. John's mart3'rdom was that of living ; he was the last of the
apostles to die. Learn the divineness of a life of service. '' Whosoever of you will
be the chief est shall be servant of all." The natural idea of the untutored mind is
that a man in supreme power would rule and please himself. Qualifications for
serving are becoming to be the badge of governing. What a world of thought
we suddenly reach, when we strike the flint of one text with the steel of another
text, and a Divine spark is emitted, which lights up our system with the Christ-like
principle of the divinity of eternal usefulness 1 Is it not a part of that stupendous
truth, that nothing can live eternally except that which is useful and good 7 All
nature is teaching us this lesson ; plants, and animals, and men, and nations,
are disappearing and dying out unless they can give a favourable answer to
the searching question, "Art thou useful? Art thou of any service to God
or to man t " What a magnificent view this gives of man's magnificent share
in the universe! The worlds are hastening along in their prescribed courses
— suns are forming — spheres are whirling in ordered procession through space :
in what we call the chaos of nature there is no ohaos: seas, and continents,
and air, and clouds, are daily growing up and evolving; every star, every
leaf, every creature that lives is busy, and is helping to roU the Great Universe
along — and nature, if asked, "Art thou useful?" must reply, "Yea, every grain
and every molecule, every breath and every atom, all are contributing to the
order and the usefulness of God's system 1 " What is nature 7 Nature is an
aggregation and a development of the eternally fit and useful. So also man's test
must be this test of fitness too, and we may even go farther, and declare our belief
that prospective material rewards are sometimes misleading in the way they are
usuaUy interpreted. Man's highest reward must be perfect oo-operation with, union
with, and knowledge of the eternal God. When God's purposes become man's pur-
poses, God's aims man's aims, God's spirit and essence man's spirit and essence ;
then we shall not find men clamouring for seats upon golden thrones, but we shall
bear them ask, " How can I combine with God to further the purposes of man and
of God ? " for both these are identical. Or, to use our Saviour's phrase, we shall
hear men ask, "How can I drink of the oup which Christ drank of?'* The
eternally useful need not, of course, be the eternally assertive or prominent. Many
careers of usefulness there are, which are perhaps more of enduring than of acting.
To endure, in many circumstances, is, in a sense, to act. {A. H, Powell^ M.A.)
Christ a Servant :— I. " Thk Son oi* Man cams not to be ministbrbd unto." This
should teach us — 1. The emptiness of earthly greatness. 2. Contentment in our
situation. II. The Son of Man came " to mimisteb." From this we learn — 1. To
be diligent in doing good. 2. To condescend to the meanest acts of kindness.
III. The Son of Man came '*to oivb His lcte a banbou roa uant." It teaches —
1. The deplorable condition of sinners. 2. The amazing compassion of the
Saviour. 3. The subject encourages our application to Him, and dependence on
Him as the Saviour. 4. The subject stimulates us to seek diligently the salvation
of others. {T. Kidd.) Servant of all: — A minister having accepted a cordial
invitation to the pastorate of a Church, was visited by a lady, who said, " Sir, this
Church, of which you are now unhappily the minister, is composed of such materials
that you must either be its tyrant or its slave ; which office will you select ? " He
answered, " Its servant, for Jesus Christ's sake." Not rendering service to please
this one or the other, not giving forth dull tones to soothe the slumbering souls of
those that love to sleep, not selecting dainty sentences of polite speech (polished
swords that will not out), hoping to win the admiration and commendation of
those that sit in the well-cushioned pews ; but a servant, and the servant of the
Choroh for Jesus Christ's sake. Our highest relationship to God is a relationship
of service ; it ranks above sonship, because it is the fruit of adoption ; love in
action. The servant of all : — Men of the world would prefer to say. " I am among
yon, not as one who serves, but as one who rules. I live quite independent of the
authority of any superior." There is a natural revolt against dependence on
emother as something derogatory to the dignity of manhood. This revolt against
1.] ST. MARK,
mle, this ohafing against the idea of interdependence, is founded on an ntter mis-
apprehension. If God is Creator, and we creatures, we are forced to concede the
whole question at issue. There can be but one independent existence ; man's
ignorance renders inter-dependence impossible. Again, he is a servant, and not a
roler, because of the physical laws which environ him. Man is equally impotent
to resist the operation of moral law. The servant of these laws secures his highest
" ' ' "" ... . ^^^ world.
" Whom
the truth of the
text : " He came not to be ministered unto." There was but one way in which He
ooold derive new glory, and that was by service and sacrifice. All crowns were
already His, save one, and that one was the crown of thorns. After this who will
venture to call service derogatory to the dignity of manhood, when even the glory
of Godhead derives new lustre from this matchless display of condescending grace ?
The spectacle of the great Lord of All shrinking from no ofl&ce, however menial,
whereby humanity might be cleansed and elevated and ennobled, has given a new
ideal to the world. A new form of beauty rises on the vision of mankind. A new
standard of greatness is established by the authority of the Highest. " He that
would be chief among you, let him be the servant of all." These are creative words.
Out of them have come the philanthropies, the benevolent enterprises which the
pious ingenuity of the Church has devised for the relief of suffering humanity, the
sweet charities which minister to the physical and spiritual wants of the world.
They are revolutionary words. They have reversed the judgments of men, and re-
constructed public opinion as to what constitutes true greatness. {M. Z>. Hoge, D.D.)
Greatness realized in humble service : — Dr. Chalmers was great when he presided
over the General Assembly of his church, and when he lectured in the Divinity
Hall from his professor's chair, and when he electrified vast audiences by his power
in the pulpit all over Scotland, but never did he attract more reverential admira-
tion or loving regard than when he was seen walking through the dark "closes "
and filthy lanes of Edinburgh, with ragged children clinging to his fingers and to
his skirts, as he led them oat and gathered them into the schools he had organized
for their benefit. (Ibid.)
Ver. 88. Ye know not what ye ask.— Pray«r» qfered in ignoranee answered in
love :— 1. They did ask. Whatever be thy desire, go to Him. 2. These brothers
had a definite purpose in coming to Him. Our prayers are often vague and in-
definite. 3. These brothers were honest and sincere in their request. What, then,
was there to be blamed in the matter? They had a f^se conception of Christ's
glory; also as to the things which were involved in the granting their request.
Holiness is a character which is formed within a man ; it is not a gift conferred
from without. He is the highest in the peerage who has served his Master best.
By the cross Christ was elevated to the throne. The text means, •• Ye do not know
what is implied in the terms you employ in making your request, or what is involved
in granting it to yon.** We may have a definite object in view, we may think it
good and desirable ; but we cannot trace it through all its bearings ; we cannot see
how it would affect us if bestowed ; nor can we tell what may be required from us
before it can be granted. The omniscient One alone can discern what is involved
in our petitions. He will answer our prayers, if not in the letter, yet in the spirit.
You ask for success in life, having in mind external prosperity. But God's view of
success is a very different affair; in His estimation, success consists in what a man
is, not in what he has ; and He gives you that success by denying you the other.
You ask for forgiveness, and expect it in joy. God answers by showing you more
thoroughly your sins. We pray for holiness ; it comes through sore trial. Thus
God answers the prayer for purity. {W. M. Taylor, D.D. ) Ignorance in prayers : —
A beautiful instance of this in the life of the great Church father, Augustine, has
often given both consolation and light. He wished to leave Carthage, where he had
become deeply entangled in the snares of sin, and o visit Rome, then the metropolis
of the world ; but his pious mother, Monica, restrained him with her tears, and
would not let him go, being afraid that he would encounter still more dangerous
snares in the great city. He promised to her to remain ; but, forgetful of his duty,
he embarked in a vessel under the cloud of night, nd in that very Italy to which her
affection was afraid to let him go, he found salvat on and was converted. Pondering
in his mind how the Eternal Love had conduct d him to where he himself had
thought of going only in the forwardness of his heart, he says, in his *' Confessions,'*
430 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [oha». x.
"But thou, my God, listening in Thy high and heavenly counsels to what was the
scope of my mother's wishes, refused her what she prayed for, at that time, that
Thou mightest grant her what was at all times the subject of her prayers." (Ibid,)
Mistaken prayer : — A. tradition current in Wales is a striking illustration of these
words. It is said that an old woman, who was very ungodly, was once travelling
from CardifiE to a neighbouring town, some twelve miles distant, for the purpose of
selling her vegetables. It was a winter's day, the east wind was blowing, and drove
the hail and ^eet right in her face, causing her to give vent to sundry curses and
evil exclamations. When she was nearing the end of her journey, she began in a
most irreverent manner to pray that the wind might turn to her back. Extra-
ordinary to relate, the wind did turn, and for about five minutes she had the
comfort of a tolerably easy journey. But, alas, poor short-sighted creature I she
fini/hed the sale of her goods, and at almost dark started to return home ; but the
wind, which she had been so anxious should change, had done so, and was there-
fore again in her face. She had forgotten, when she prayed in the morning that
it might turn, that to go home she would have to turn too, and then be exposed to
its violence during the cold and dark night. The storm, too, had increased in fury,
and it was not till the next morning that the old woman reached her native town.
ChristU Clip of suffering : — We cannot drink Christ's cup of suffering so — I. Wil-
lingly. II. Intelligently. III. With such bitter ingredients. IV. So capacions.
V. Deadly. (Plans of Sermons.) Can ye drink of tJie cup that I drink of f — L
Consider the cup pbesented to oub Saviocb, and the makneb in which He dbauk
IT. David speaks of a cup of joy (Psa. zxiii. 6 ; cxvi. 18) ; but there is a cnp of
affliction (Isa. li. 17 ; Jer. xzv. 15). 1. It was a bitter cup, consisting of the bitter
ingredients of sin and wrath. 2. It was deep and large, and contained much like
that which was presented to Jndah in her captivity (Ezek. xziii. 32). 8. It was a
cup without mixture, it had torment without ease. In what manner did our
Saviour drink this bitter cup? (1) He did it not ignorantly, but knowingly. (2)
He did it not reluctantly, but freely. (8) He drank it not partially, but entirely.
II. The shabb which believebs take in tee suffebinqs or Chbist. ** Can ye
drink," &o, 1. As no one can do what Christ did, so no one can suffer what He
suffered. 2. Though no one can suffer what Christ suffered, yet His people must
have some fellowship with Him in His sufferings, and be conformable to His death.
8. The people of God must expect trials. (B, Beddome^ M.A.)
Yer. 46-62. Blind yBartlmeos. — Observation* on the narrative of blind Bar-
timeus : — I. Observe how singulably is the pbovidentiai. goodness ov God dis-
PliAVED in the DIBECTION OF THE EVENTS LEADING TO THIS INTEBVIEW. The blind man
takes his place by the road-side, not to meet with Jesus or any one else who might
restore his sight, but merely to procure from the uncertain compassion of travellers a
small pittance that should serve to prolong his weary existence. Just at this juncture
Jesus, having left Jericho on His way to Jemsalem, passes that way. Many travel-
lers came and returned, but he knew them not. In this instance the rush of a
multitude attracts his notice. That God who has denied him the use of sight can
convey His blessings through another organ. It is affecting to think on what a
trifle appear to hinge the most important relations and destinies of our existence.
II. The NOTICE Babtimeus takes of the infobmation conveyed to him. It is
with him no idle aipeculation. He did not fix on mere circumstantials, or on a topic
of interest to others ; he contemplated the matter in direct and prompt reference to
his own case. Go at once to Christ, and cry so as to be heard through the crowd.
The petition of Bartimeus deserves notice not less for the terms in which it is
expressed than for the urgency with which it is preferred — " Jesus, Thou Son of
David, have mercy on me." It contains a full and prompt confession of Christ
in that character, in which of all others He demanded the recognition of mankind,
and of that age and nation in particular, and in which He was most obnoxious to
the malice of His enemies. Kor is this testimony to Christ as the Son of David less
valuable as an indication of gr at faith in the covenant mercies of God as set forth
in prophecy (Isa. Iv. 8 ; Psa Ixxii. 12). lU. The oolo and chilling bxpulsx
which hb met with, not from Jesus but from the bystanders, perhaps even the
disciples, for they had not yet learnt much of the spirit of the Master. Some
nndervidae accessions to the kingdom of Christ from the ranks of the poor. Indif-
ference and snspicion often hinder rehgious inquiry. IV. The gonduot OF Bam-
tiubus. When tihwarted in your approach to the Saviour how has it operated? ^ It
has grieved yon ; but has it driven you back r Like the tide pent op,
z.] 8T. MARK. 431
barsting every barrier, mshea with aoonmolated force, Bariimeas is prompted by
this ungracious repulse to cry so much the more. Go thou and do Ukewise. V.
Jesus stood still, and commanded him to bs bbouoht. Of what importance is
it, in the career of the great mass of individuals, when they move along or
when they stop? There are men whose movements are eyed with anxious
care. The steps of a Grasar, an Alexander, or a Napoleon, have borne hope
or dread with them ; the incidental halting of each characters has been identified
with the fate of a city or a province. It is only of such as preach the gospel of
peace that we can say, •♦ How beautiful are their feet upon the mountains." The
cry of one poor man was of sufficient importance to arrest Christ in His progress.
YI. Thk commands abb obbtxd with alaohitt. YII. Thb samb pbomptitudb and
DETEBMINATION WHICH BaRTIMBUS BEFORE MANIFESTED GUIDES HIM IN THIS NBW ASPECT
OF AFFAIRS. His tattered cloak is cast away as a hindrance. He has an all-
absorbing object before him. The sinner rejects as idle encumbrances his self-
righteousness and self-indulgence, which have clung to him as his second self, and
rushes alone into the arms of a compassionate Saviour. VIII. The scene now
increases in interest. Thb man is healed in the way of inquibt, ** What wilt thou
that I shall do unto thee? " This is the way disconsolate sinners are encouraged
to tell their own tale. IX. What beplt is madb to this inquiby t " Lord, that
I might receive my sight." He came by the shortest step to the matter in hand ;
in prayer we should have a specific object in view. X. How it succeeded in thb
CASE BEFOBB US? " Go thy way." {A. O. Fuller.) Sightless sinners: — ^L We
look closely at Bartimeus on this occasion. It is true that Jesus is the centre of the
picture, as He always is. But this miracle is peculiar in that the details of it are
more than usually brilliant as an illustration of simple human nature in the
one who receives the advantage of it. 1. The state of this poor creature is
given at a stroke of the pen. It would be difficult to crowd more biography
into one verse than we find in here. He was sightless. He had come to
be called by that name, "Blind Bartimeus.'* He was a pauper. **Beggiiig'*
was his business. He was a professional mendicant. We do not look upon
him as one who had got behind-hand for a little, and so was out on the street
for a day or two, until he could get into employment. He " sat by the highway
side begging.*' He was helpless. There is no evidence that he had any trienda
who cared for him ; they would have made themselves conspicuous after his core,
if there had been many of them. He was hopeless. It was impossible for him to
do anything ; he could not see to learn a trade. He was onpopular. Anybody had
a right to snub him, the moment he said a word (see Luke xviii. 39). He was
uneaiey, and fiercely on the alert to better his condition. 2. Now notice his action.
Here we need the verse which has just been quoted from Luke's Gospel, for a link
between the two apparently disjointed verses of Mark's (see Mark x. 47). The way
in which this man " heard that it was Jesns of Nazareth " is shown there ; the
multitude told him. Bartimeus sought information. He was not too proud to
acknowledge he did not know. Does any one suppose this poor beggar got offended
because some one insisted that he was sightless? If a neighbour had showed him-
self a httle friendly, and proposed to lead him up for a core, would Bartimeus
simply spite him for being impertinent about other people's concerns? Then, next,
this blind man began to ask for help (see Luke xviii. 38, 39). His request was
singularly comprehensive and intelligent. His ciy was personal and direct : ** have
mercy on me." He wastes no time in graceful opening or becoming close ; what
he wanted he tells. His prayer was courageous and importunate (see Mark x. 48).
Bartimeus then " rose, and came to Jesus." It would have been the height of toUj
for him to say to himself, " If it is the will of this rabbi to open my eyes, he can
do it from a distance just as well as if I were there." Then, also, this blind man
put away the hindrance which it was likely would delay him in going for his cure
(Mark x. 50). A simple garment, no doubt, but almost indispensable to him. Still,
if it interfered with the restoration of his eyesight, it could well be spared. 8.
Notice, in the next place, Bartimeus' s full surrender (see v. 51). Two things are to
be noted in this remarkable speech. We shall not understand either of them
unless we keep in mind the most singular question which Jesus puts to the man, tht
moment he comes within hearing. It was not because He did not know this beg-
gar's condition, that our Lord asked him so abruptly what he would have Him to
do. It must have been because He desired to fasten his faith upon one chief
object of supreme desire. There was no end to the needs of Bartimeus : he wanted
food, friends, clothing, home, everything that anybody demands in order to maka ■
iza THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTHATOB. (oHtf. t,
mendicant a man. Bnt, more than all besides, he wanted eyesight ; and he found
that out when he went in upon his own sonl to make inquiry. This explains hia
reply. He speaks with a declaration, " Lord." This address, most inadequately
rendered here in Mark's Gospel, means far more than mere respect. The word in
Luke is different from this ; here it is actually the same as that Mary Magdalene
uses when she discovers that one she thought was the gardener is Jesus : ** Bab-
boni I " There is concentrated in just a single word, a whole burst of generous and
affectionate feehng : "My Master I" Faith, reverence, love unspeakable, adoring
wonder, were in that word. He speaks with an ellipsis. As, before, we found more
in his utterance than we expected, so now we find less. Bartimeus does not reply
directly to our Lord's question. He cannot : how could he know what a miracle-
worker should do ? All he knew was what he himself wanted to be done. So his
answer would read in full : " I do not understand what Thou wilt do, nor even what
I would have thee to do — oh, do anything, any thing — that I might receive my sight I "
4. Once more, notice Bartimeus's cure (v. 52). It was instantaneous — "imme-
diately." It was perfect — "whole." It was sovereign — "go thy way." It was
complete, including salvation — " thy faith hath saved thee " (see Luke xviii. 42).
5. Lastly, notice the man's experience (Luke xviii. 43). He was full of joy ; a new
world had been suddenly opened upon him. He was obedient : he followed Jesus
as a disciple. He was grateful : he glorified God. He was zealous. We may be
sure he left not so much as one blind man in all Jerioho without the knowledge of
Jesus of Nazareth. " Oh that all the blind but knew Him, and would be advised
by me I Surely would they hasten to Him, He would cause them all to see." II.
So much then, concerning this miracle as a wonder ; let us now study its lessons
as a parable. It very beautifully pictures the steps of a sinner coming for spiritual
relief to Jesus; the state, the action, the surrender, the cure, the experience.
Indeed, this was a real part of the story that day. 1. Sightlessness is the symbol of
sin. Not darkness now, for Christ has come (see John viii. 12). The trouble is in
the heart (see Eph. iii. 18). Who did this ? (see 3 Cor. iv. 4). How deep is it f
(see Rev. iii. 18). 2. Sin destroys the whole nature. We do not say Bartimeus
was injured in any of his senses except his eyes. But his blindness made him a
beggar. His touch, hearing, and taste may have been perfect: indeed, they
may have been rendered sensitive, sharp, and alert more than usual. But
he walked as a blind man, he reasoned as a blind man, he thought as a blind
man, and he went to his regular stand as a blind man, and then begged. 3.
Awakening of sinners is often due to Christian fidelity. 4. In the salvation of
his soul the sinner has a work to do. It is of no use to fall back on one's
blindness; the first step is to confess blindness, and go to Christ for help.
6. Frayer is indispensable in every case. No one can be saved who will not ask for
salvation. The petition might well become a " cry." And whatever hinders, let
the man continue to pray, and pray " the more a great deal." 6. All hindrances
must be put away if one is in earnest to be saved. Many a man has seemed to
start well, but has been tangled in the running by his garments of respectability,
fame, fortune, social standing, literary eminence, or pleasant companionship. One
may obtain the •* whole world," and lose " his own soul." 7. Jesus is always ready
to save any one who cries to Him. Oh, most impressive moment is that when the
Lord of Glory pauses in the way, and commands a soul ''to be called "I 8. Un-
qualified acceptance of Christ in all His offices is the essential condition of accep-
tance by Him. The sinner must say " Lord," " Jesus of Nazareth," •* Son of David,"
and " Rabboni." 9. Experience of salvation is the instrument to use in our efforts
to save others. (C S. Robinson, D.D.) How to procure blessing from God : — I.
Cry aloud. " What is the noise ? " asks this blind man. " Who is it ? " " Jesus,"
they say. And at once he cries, " Son of David, have mercy on me." ** Hush," say
some ; " hush," — not liking the loudness of the cry, nor the shrill, sad tone of it.
But Bartimeus only cries the louder. Misery often makes a great noise in the world,
a great and displeasing noise, if it can but get opportunity to make its want and its
woe known. Surely, happy people should be ready to bear with the disturbance
a little time ; for misery has perhaps had to bear its sorrow for a long time.
n. Be in babnest. It has always needed an effort to come at Jesus. You must not
be discouraged by hindrances. III. Cast git xnoumbrances. The blind man throws
aside his garment, lest it should hamper him, in his eagerness to get at Christ.
Give him his sight, and he will not care even to look for this soiled and tattered
garment any more, but will find a better. People that have their eyes opened wiU
at the very least get their clothes washed. A neat, decent dress is often an early
CHAP. X.] ST. MARK, 433
Bign that a man is becoming careful who has hitherto been reckless. And new talk,
new tempers, new estimates of things, are garments of the spuritual man, that show
he has become a new man. {T. T. Lynch.) Tlu blind beggar of Jericho:— Th^s
man is a picture of what we would fain have every seeker of Christ to become. In
his lonely darkness, and deep poverty, he thought and became persuaded that Jesus
was the Son of David. Though he had no sight, he made good use of his hearmg.
If we have not all gifts, let us use those we have. I. He sought the Lobd undbb
DI8C0UBAGEMENT8. 1. No One prompted his seekmg. 2. Many opposed his attempts.
3. For awhile he was unheeded by Christ Himself. 4. He was but a blmd beggar,
and this alone might have checked some pleaders. II. He bbceivbd bncoubaob-
UEMT. This came from Christ's commanding him to be called. There are several
kindaof calls which come to men at the bidding of Christ. 1. Universal call (John
iii 14 15). 2. Character call (Matt. xi. 28 ; Acts ii. 38. 39). 3. Ministerial call
(Acts xiii. 26, 38, 39 ; xvi. 31). 4. Effectual call (Rom. viii. 30). III. But encouraoe-
MENT DID NOT CONTENT HIM : he Still sought Jcsus. To stop short of Jesus and
heaUng would have been folly indeed. 1. He arose. Hopefully, resolutely, he
quitted his begging posture. In order to salvation we must be on the alert, and m
earnest. 2. He cast away his garment, and every hindrance. 3. He came to Jesus.
4. He stated his case. 5. He received salvation. Jesus said unto him, " Thy faitii
hath made thee whole." He obtained perfect eyesight: complete health. IV.
Havino rouND Jesus he kept to Him. 1. He used his sight to see the Lord. 2. He
became His avowed disciple. 3. He went with Jesus on His way to the cross, and
to the crown. 4. He remained a well-known disciple, whose father s name is given.
IC. H. Spurgeon.) This man came out of cursed Jericha :— Are there not some to
come from our slums and degraded districts ? This man at least was a beggar, but
the Lord Jesus did not disdam his company. He was a standing glory to the Lord,
for every one would know him as the blind man whose eyes had been opened. Let
seeking souls persevere under all drawbacks. Do not mind those who would keep
you back. Let none hinder you from finding Christ and salvation. Though blmd,
and poor, and miserable, you shall yet see, and smile, and sing, and follow Jesus.
(Ibid ) Blind Bartimeus ;— I. We take those points which speak to us of odb
Lord. We are struck by the obvious fact that though attended by a wondermg
joyful crowd. He has an ear, grace, gifts, for the one ; so to the one miserable man.
We are apt to think the Lord of all has so many dependent upon Him, our distress
may be overlooked by Him ; and this fear is strongest when we are weakest. "Lord,
that I may receive my sight." " Eeceive thy sight " responds Christ. Chnst gives
us iust as much as we can take— as much as we really ask for. IL Let us now
OLANCB AT BABTIMBU8 AND HIS FAITH. It is to his faith that out Lord attributes his
healing ; therefore our attention is specially called to it. It was surpnsmgly great.
There was pertinacity in his faith. Those who stand near Chnst may rebuke the
cry for mercy. The doctrinal rebuke. The philosophical rebuke. (S. Cox, D.D.)
The gate of the city .-—The gate of the city was, in the East, the favourite resort of
the mendicant class ; for there, not only must all travellers, and caravans, and
peasants bringing their wares to market, pass them by, but the broad side-arches of
the gate, with their cool recesses and divans, were the justice-halls m which smts
and quarrels were adjusted, and the lounging-place in which.when the labours of
the day were over, the citizens gathered to discuss their local pohtics or to en]oy
then: neighbourly gossip. The very reason, therefore, which draws the beggars of
Italy to the fountains or the steps of churches, and the beggars of Ireland to the
doors of hotels, or to the spots haunted by tourists, and the beggars of England to
the crowded thoroughfares and market-places, drew the beggars of the East, and
still draws them, to the gates of the cities. There men most congregate, ana there
they are most Ukely to meet some response to their appeals for pity and help. (Ibid.)
Prayer of a solitary individual heard ;— You have seen a mother laughing and
making merry with happy friends. Suddenly she pauses, listens, and leaves the noisy
room. She has heard a tiny wail of distress which you could not hear, and she
cannot be content till the cry of her babe be hushed, its wants satisfied. And shall
God, who made the mother's heart, be less tender, less pitiful, than the creature
He has made ? I tell you. Nay ; but " as one whom his mother comforteth, so will
God comfort all the distressed who cry to Him. (Ibid.) The blind beggar ;—
I. The ORIGIN OF this poor blind man's FAITH. II. Its quickness IN OBASPINO T^
OBACIOUS OPPOBTUNITY. HI. LiSTEN TO THIS FAITH WHILST IT CBIES AND BEGS. IV.
ObSEBVI how BAOEBLY it OBEYED THE CALL. V. LlSTBN TO THIS FAITH DE8CBIBINO
ms OABB. Hb TOLD IT AX ONCB. (C. H. Spurgeov.) The blind man s earnest
28
454 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. x.
erie»: — "Wherever Jesus Christ is found, His presence is marvellously mighty.
Providence at all times co-works with grace in the salvation of the chosen people.
I. The blind man's eabnestness as a contrast to thb behavioub of many hsasbbi
or THB WoBD. By a very short sermon he was led to prayer. Instead of praying
over sermons, a great many disport themselves with them. Some are anxious for
others, whilst this man cried for himself. IL Notice this man's intense desibb as
AN absorbing passion. Some plead the excuse of poverty, and demands of business ;
and these are the two obstacles that Bartimeus overcame. Passover : and the passover
time when roads crowded with pilgrims, was his harvest. III. His vehemence was a
most reasonable zeal. He knew the misery of blindness. He was a beggar, and
had learned the weakness of man. He knew that Jesus Christ was near. He felt
it was now or never. IV. He experienced checks in his pbateb. V. BEis impob-
tunity at last became so mighty, that rebuffs became arguments with him, (Ibid.)
A great number of people. — Christ and His many followers: — I. That the fol-
lowers OF Christ are not necessarily His friends or true disciples. " He
went out of Jericho with His disciples, and a great number of people." 1. In the
multitudes who accompanied Jesus out of Jericho, some, doubtless, followed Him
out of mere curiosity. 2. Some followed because it was just then fashionable to do
so. 3. Some followed with a view to future worldly advantage. 4. Such following
is generally useless, deceptive, and mischievous, being of no real or permanent ad-
vantage to any one. (1) It confers no substantial benefit on any Christian country.
(2) It is of no real advantage to those followers themselves. II. The text suggests
to us THAT AMONG A MULTITUDE OF ChRIST's FOLLOWERS YOU MAY GENERALLY EXPECT
TO FIND SOME FRIENDS. "With'His disciples." Out of those who follow from
curiosity Christ is drawing many real followers. 1. This should encourage us to
persevere in our own following. 2. This should encourage us in relation to other
followers. (J. Morgan.) Christ and the true friends : — I. That the trxtb friends
OF Christ should follow Him constantly, closely, and collectively. But why
should we be anxious to follow Christ thus ? 1. Because it would gratify and glorify
Christ. 2. Because it would bring great blessings to our own souls. 3. Because
such following would exert a blessed influence over our fellow creatures. H. But
while the friends of Christ should thus follow Him constantly, closely, and ooUeo-
tively, THEY SHOULD ALSO PREACH HiM SIMPLY, DIRECTLY, AND LOVINOLT. " JeSUB
of Nazareth passeth by." 1. The sermon was a very simple one. 2. It was a very
evangelical one. 3. It was a very sympathetic or loving one. (Ibid.) A great
number of people: — There he sits hoping for mere worldly gain. He has not come
to meet Christ. It was not in all his thoughts to get his eyes opened. How many
like him are before me — dying sinners on whom God's curse is resting, who yet did
not come to secure the great salvation. God grant a further parallel ; that you may
get what yon did not come for, even a solemn meeting and saving closing of your
souls with Jesus Christ. A multitude with Jesus I a multitude of followers I How
can He then complain, I have laboured in vain, I have spent My strength for nought f
Simply because He had many followers, but few friends. A multitude with Jesus I
But it is not all following that blesses. A multitude with Jesus ! Tea, when ELis
march is at all triumphal — when as He goes He invests His progress with the splen-
dour of miracles, there will be no want of a crowd to gape after Him. A multitude
with Jesus! Take care, then, ye members of the Church. Examine yourselves
closely. Profession of religion is easy now. Numbers give power, respectability,
fashion, even enthusiasm. A multitude with Jesus I Blessed be God, in that
multitude some true disciples may be found ; some who, though weak and sinning,
forward, like Peter, when they should be backward, and then backward, of course,
when they should be forward ; ambitious, hke Zebedee's children, or doubting, like
Thomas, are still true friends of Jesus, living for Him, suffering for Him, growing
like Him day by day, and dying for Him without a murmur, if He so appoint
Among the professed people of God there have always been real people of God.
** And hearing the multitude." Oh, what a blessing is that I His ears are open
though his eyes are shut. Thus God remembers to be gracious. Where He takes
one mercy He leaves another. My text shall be my guide. The roadside was the
church, the multitude preached, and Bartimeus was the hearer. And now for the
sermon — " And they told him, Jesus of Nazareth passeth by 1'* "Jesus of Naza-
reth passeth by ! " So you see it was a powerful sermon. It went to the heart and
took complete possession of it. It was a very simple sermon. Who cannot preach
it? " Jesus of Nazareth passeth by." There is no follower of Jesus who cannot
tell poor blind souls this. A good preacher tries to make all truth simple. He is a
X.] 8T, MARK. 435
bad shepherd, eay the old writers, who holds the hay too high for the sheep. Accord-
ing to Lord Baoon, little minds love to inflate plain things into marvels, while
great minds love to reduce marvels to plain things. " The very essence of truth,'*
Bays Milton, ** is plainness and brightness ; the darkness and crookedness are our
own." *• Better the grammarian should reprehend," says Jenkyn, " than the people
not understand. Pithy plainness is the beauty of preaching. What good doth a
golden key that openB not f *' An old lady once walked a great way to hear the
celebrated Adam Clarke preach. She had heard he was " such a scholar," as indeed
he was. But she was bitterly disappointed, "because," said she, *'! understood
everything he said." And I knew a man who left the church one morning quite
indignant, because the preacher had one thing in his sermon he knew before 1 It
was a little explanation meant for the children ; dear little things — they are always
coming on, and I love to see their bright little faces among the older people. We
used to need and prize these simple explanations, and why shouldn't they have them
in their turn? But, best of all, this sermon was about Christ. He is mentioned
alone. " The excellency of a sermon," says Flavel, " lies in the plainest discoveries
and liveliest applications of Jesus Christ." He passeth by 1 Now is your time ; make
haste to secure your salvation. How near He is I He passeth by in the light of every
Sabbath sun, in every church built to His name, in every reading of His Word, in every
gospel sermon, in sacraments and prayers and psalms, but most of all in every move-
ment of His Spirit on the heart. But He " passeth by I " He will not always tarry. The
day of grace is not for ever. Its sun wiU go down, and the night that follows is eternal
despair. Christ never passed that way again ; He may never pass your way again. That
was His last visit to Jericho ; this call may be His last visit to you. This was Barti-
meus* only opportunity ; to-day maybe your only opportunity. {Prof. W. J, Hoge.)
Blind Baxtimeus. — Three kinds of blindness: — The eye of the body may be out, and
we have no name for the result but blindness. The eye of the intellect may be out,
and we name the result idiocy. We say the man is a fooL The eye of the soul
may be out, and God names the result wickedness. He calls the man a sinner.
Thmk of Bartimeus. He rose this morning, and his wife blessed him, his children
climbed his knees and kissed him. They ministered to his wants. They led him a
little way by the hand. But he did not see them. He knew of them, but he could
not behold them. Their smiles or beauty were nothing to him — ^he was blind.
Think of yourself, 0 sinner 1 You rose this morning, and the eye of your heavenly
Father looked upon you. His hand led you, His power guarded you, His goodness
blessed you. But your soul did not see Him. A vague idea that God had done it
all may have occurred to you, but it had no vividness. He was no blessed reality to
you. You saw not the lineaments of a father — the loving eye, the benignant smile.
You saw nothing — your soul was blind. Think again of Bartimeus. He went
abroad, and the rich valley of the Jordan spread out before him. The stately palms
rose toward heaven, and waved their feathery tops in the early breeze. The gardens
of balsam were clothed in their deUcate spring verdure, and Jericho sat in the midst
of these vernal glories, deserving its name— Jericho, the place of fragrance, deserving
its frequent description among the ancient writers — the City of Palms. And high
above all was the blue sky, bending over as if to embrace and bless so much loveliness
of earth ; and the great sun, filling earth and sky and balmy air with glory. But
what was all this to Bartimeus ? It might have been narrow and black for aught he
could tell. It was an utter blank, a dreadful gloom to him. All was night, black,
black night, with no star. Why was it so to him, when to others it was splendour
and joy ? Ah 1 he was blind. Unregenerate man, think again of yourself. You
went abroad this morning, on an earth once cursed, as of old Jericho had been, but
spared and blessed by redeeming mercy, even as Jericho was that day blessed by the
presence and healing grace of Jesus. Around you, too, was spread a world of
spiritual beauty. The walls and bulwarks and stately palaces of the city of our God
were before you. The rose of Sharon, the lily of the valley, the vine, the palm, the
olive, and the fig-tree all stood about you in the garden of the Lord. Through them
flowed the river of life, reflecting skies more high and clear than the azure of sum-
mer mornings ever imagined, and lit to its measureless depth by a sun moreglorioua
than ever poured splendour even upon Eden, in our poor world's ancient prime.
You walked forth amid all this beauty, and many saw it — none perfectly, yet some
very blessedly — but you saw nothingi You see othing now. Nay, you cannot see
it. Strain your blind soul as you will, you can t see it. I see a beautiful mother
gaze anxiously on her babe. She is trying a fearful experiment. She stretches out
her arms to it, beseeches it with lofing looks, olds out sparkling jewel? to it, and
436 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [OHA». x.
flashes them before its eyes in the very sunshine at the open window. Bat the littW
eyes move not, or move aimlessly, and turn vacantly away. And she cries out in
anguish, •• Oh, my poor child is blind 1 " And now I understand why even tender
children turn away from Christ, seeing no beauty in Him that they should desire
Hirn, and caring nothing for all His smiles or tears, or offers of the rich jewehry of
heaven. They see nothing of it all. They are blind, born blind. (Ibid.) ^ The
danger of the blind : — I once saw a man walk along the edge of a precipice as if
it were a plain. For anything he knew, it was a plain, and safe. He was calm and
fearless, not because there was no danger, but because he was blind. And who can-
not now understand how men so wise, so cautious in most things, can go so securely,
so carelessly, even so gaily on, as if eveiything were safe for eternity, while snares
and pitfalls are all about them, and death may be just at hand, and the next step
may send them down the infinite abyss ! Oh, we see it, we see it — they are blind !
A blind man is more taken up with what he holds in his hand, than with mountains^
ocean, sun, or stars. He feels this ; but those he can neither touch nor see. And
now it is plain why unconverted .men undervalue doctrine, saying, that " it is no
matter what a man believes, so his heart is right ; " that " one doctrine is at
good as another, and for that matter, no doctrines are good for much ; " and that
" they don't believe in doctrinal preaching at any rate." They, forsooth, they I
blind worms, pronouncing contemptuously of the stupendous heights and glories of
God's revelation, where alone we learn what we are to beheve concerning Him, and
what duty He requires of us. It is plain, too, why they see no preciousness in the
promises, no glory in Christ, no beauty in holiness, no grandeur in the work of re-
demption ; why they make a mock at sin, despise God's threatenings, brave His
wrath, make light of the blood of Christ, jest at death, and rush headlong on certain
perdition. They are blind. {Ibid.) Light no remedy for blindness : — " But we
want to see them. If they are real, they are our concern as well as youra Oh, that
some preacher would come, who had power to make us see them I " Poor souls,
there is no such preacher, and you need not wait for him. Let him gather God's
Ught as he will, he can but pour it on blind eyes. A burning-glass will condense
sunbeams into a focus of brightness ; and if a blind eye be put there, not a whit will
it see, though it be consumed. Light is the remedy for darkness, not blindness.
(Ibid.) Blindness disqualifies the critic : — ^Let the people of God no more wonder
then at the clamours of infidels against the Scriptures. Would you heed a blind
man criticising pictures, or raving against your summer skies ? If he denies that
the sun has brightness, or the mountains grandeur, will you believe him ? And if a
hundred blind men should all declare that they cannot see the stars, and argue
learnedly that there can be no stars, and then grow witty and laugh at you as star-
gazers, would the midnight heavens be less glorious to you ? When these men had
thus satisfactorily demonstrated their blindness, would not the mighty works ol
God still prove their bright reality to your rejoicing vision ? Would they not still
declare His glory and show His handiwork 7 And shall the spiritually blind be
more trusted ? (Ibid.) The blind man happy : — In a journal of a tour through
Scotland, by the Eev. C. Simeon, of Cambridge, we have the following passage : —
" Went to see Lady Boss's grounds. Here also I saw blind men weaving. May I
never forget the following fact. One of the blind men, on being interrogated with
respect to his knowledge of spiritual things, answered, 'I never saw till I was blind:
nor did I ever know contentment when I had my eyesight, as I do now that I have
lost it : I can truly affirm, though few know how to credit me, that I would on no
account change my present situation and circumstances with any that I ever enjoyed
before I was blind.* He had enjoyed eyesight tiU twenty-five, and had been blind
now about three years. My soul," Mr. Simeon adds, "was much affected
and comforted with his declaration. Surely there is reality in religion."
Begging. — When may a man be called poor: — Is wealth for the body alone r Has
the heart no riches? May not a mind be impoverished, a soul be bankrupt?
Ah ! yes, there are riches besides money, wealth to which gold and rubies are
as nothing. A man is poor when his need is not supplied. The higher the
wants, the deeper the kind of poverty, the more the want, the deeper its degree.
A man with neither food nor shelter is poorer than he who lacks shelter only.
And is not the man without love or hope poorer than he who has merely no fire
nor bread ? Who shall deny the name of poor to him whose soul is unfurnished f
What is the chaff to the wheat, the body to the soul f Are not the soul's desires
larger and more insatiable than those of the flesh ? Does not the heart hunger ? Is
there no such thing as " a famine of truth and love " t Do desolate spirits never
s.] 8T. MARK. i87
oower and shiver and freeze, like houseless wretches in stormy winter nights ? Night
and winter and storm — are they not also for the soul f And when it has no home
in its desolations, no refuge from its foes, no shelter from the blast, no food for its
hnnger, no consolation in its sorrows, is it not poor ? poor in the deepest poverty,
which almost alone deserves the name of poverty 7 How much of such poverty is
there, dwelling in princely halls, clothed in purple and fine linen, and faring sump-
tuously eveiy day I How often does it walk in royal processions, and flash with
jewels, and handle uncounted gold, {Ibid.) Every tinner is a beggar: — How can
it be otherwise? Can such poverty be independent? In outward poverty, a well-
furnished mind, a wealthy soul may be an inward solace. But when it is the soul
that is bankrupt, there is no region still within, where it may retire and comfort
itself. It will seek for happiness, and it must look without— it is forced to beg.
And thus I see poor, guilty, blinded souls begging — begging of earth and sky, and
air and sea, of every passing event, of one another, of all but the great and merciful
God, who would supply all their need through Jesus Christ. They must beg. The
vast desires of the soul, which God gave that they might be filled from Himself, and
which nothing but His own fulness can satisfy ; the noble powers degraded to work
with trifles ; the aspirations which thrill only as they mount heavenward, but now
struggle and pant like an eagle with broken wing, and his breast in the dust ; the
deathless conscience, filled with guilt and touched with unappeasable wrath, drugged
indeed, and often sleeping heavily, but waking surely, and then lashing the soul
inexorably — all these compel it to be a beggar. (Ibid.) Begging begins in child-
hood:— ^We beg then with eager hope. We are sure we shall not be disappointed.
Games, holidays, sight-seeing, all promise much, and childhood begs them to make
it blessed. Vexed, wearied, sent empty away again and again, the boy sees, further
on, tile youth, pursuing his great hopes, and hastens to join him, confident that in
higher excitements and larger hberty, in new aspirations and tenderer love, his soul's
thirst shall be slaked. Deluded once more, he grows sober and wise and firm. He
is older. He is a man. He lays deep plans now, puts on a bolder face, and begs
with sterner importunity. He can take no denial. He must have happiness ; he
vnil be blessed. Fame, wealth, power — these have the hidden treasure he has sought
so long. He knows now where it is, and they must give it up. Years are passing,
his time will soon be gone, and now he begs indeed 1 How these idols lead his soul
captive ! How he toils, cringes, grovels, sacrifices for their favour ! Fame, wealth,
power— deceitful gods I — still promise that to-morrow the long-sought good shall be
given. But how many to-morrows come and go, and leave him still trusting to the
next ! Now he forsakes the pleasures he might have, dries up the fountains of his
early love, sweeps all sentiment from his heart, crushes his dearest affections, tasks
every power to the utmost, wrings out his heart's blood, and lays all his soul before
his idol's feet — and is disappointed ! Disappointed alike in failure and success I
If he wins the prize, this is not what he coveted, and worshipped, and bargained
away bis soul for, and he curses it for a cheat. If he fails, he still believes that the
true good was there, and he was near it ; and he curses the chance, or envy, or
hate which snatched it from his grasp. But who shall describe the base arts of this
beggary 7 The disguises, the pretences, the fawnings — all the low tricks of street-
beggars — are adopted and eclipsed by those who will be rich, will be great, will have
fame. And what are the profits of thus begging the world for what God alone can
give ? Observe a street-beggar for a while. How many go by and give nothing,
where one drops even a penny in the hat ! So many of the passing things of time
refuse altogether to give the soul the good it asks. See again. Do you mark the
impudent leer of that mean boy ? He knows the beggar is blind, and so he comes
up pretending sympathy, and puts a pebble, a chip in that trembling hand. So a
thousand times have you seen the world do for a begging soul. But there comes a
still meaner boy ; he puts that which, when the grateful old man's hand closes on
it pierces or stings it, and, laughing loudly in the blind, bevnldered face, he runa
away. And thus have I seen the gay, pohshed world put a sparkling crap to the
young man's lips ; but when at last it bit him like a serpent and stung him like an
adder, the pohshed world jeered his imprudence, and turned him from its door.
His excesses and agony and death must not be seen there I And when the beggar's
gains for the day are fairly counted, what are they ? A few oopper coins, foul with
gangrene, and Uttle bits of silver, rarely, — enough to buy a scanty meal and a
poor lodging, and to-morrow all is to begin again. And thus the world gives — few
pleasures, low pleasures, brief pleasures. They stay the soul's hunger for a while,
bat never satisfy it, so that straightway we must go out and beg again. The world
438 TEE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. Ioha». «.
never raised a man's soul above beggaiy. It is both too selfish and too poor. It
gives but little of what it has, and if it gave all, gave itself, that woold not fill and
bless an immortal soul. These things make me think how sadly all this begging
from the world ends. The hour comes when the world can do no more. It is a
bitter hoar — an hoar of pain and angoish, of weakness and despair — the hoar of
death. The world is roaring away as ever, in basiness and mirth, all onoonsciooa
that the poor man who loved and worshipped it so, is dying. Bat oh, the begging
of God which now begins 1 Bitter crying to Him whose gracious heart has been
waiting to bless these many years, waiting in vain for one sigh of contrition, one
prayer of faith to His infinite grace 1 Bat it is too late. His patient, insalted
Spirit has been grieved at length. He has departed. (Ibid.) And when he heard. —
And when he heard : — Eternal salvation depends on right hearing. There are just
two kinds of hearing, not three. There is a hearing anto Hfe, and another hearing
unto death ; but there is no hearing between — none to indifference. You may try
to hear merely that you may hear, and let that be the end of it — ^bat that will not
be the end of it. The end of it will be life or death 1 Yoa may resolve that the
preaching shall make no difference in you ; but it will make a difference in you, and
the difference will be salvation or perdition 1 The gospel leaves no man where it
lound him. If it be not wings to bear him to heaven, it will be a mill-stone to sink
him to hell. Some of you think it the lightest of pastimes to come to choroh and
bear a sermon. I. His hearing led him to action. His very soul seemed to be
roused, and be began to do something. Oh, for a pulse of hfe in those frozen hearts 1
A flush of blood, even though it were angry blood, in those pale cheeks I •' I came
to break your head," said a man once to Whitefield, ''but by the grace of God
you have broken my heart." That was a vile purpose to go to church with, but if
he had gone in a complacent frame, and quietly slept or coolly criticised the preacher,
it would have been far worse. He would not have carried away that priceless
treasure — a broken heart. If what we say is true, why do you not act upon it ? II
false, how can you bear to be charged with it f If our charges are false, they are
also insulting and outrageous. If you believe them to be false, your conduct, in
hearing them so calmly, and coming back to hear them again, and even sometimes
applauding us for the vehement way in which we assail and denoonce you, is per-
fectly astonishing. Or if you say you beUeve these things to be trne, your conduct
is still more amazing. If true, they should concern you infinitely : yet you are not
concerned at all. You will call Bartimeus a fool if he does not try to get his eyes
opened this very day. But what name will you reserve for yourselves, if, while
I this day, as one of these ambassadors of God, offer you pardon and healing
and eternal life through Jesus Christ, who now passes by to bestow them,
you once more refuse the Saviour, and go on as before toward perdition?
II. This reveals to us the second mark of right hearing — It fills ▲ mam with
EABNESTNEss. If he has heard such truth as he ought, he not only acts, but acta
with energy. Thus Bartimeus acted. ^'When he heard he cried out." So it
must be with you, 0 sinners. If you would enter heaven you must be in earnest
about it. Let UB now see how this earnestness found expression. So shall we have
another mark of true hearing. III. When the gospel is heard aright, it leads to
PRATKB. This was the first thing Bartimeus did, when he was told that Jesus was
passing by — he prayed. And this is always the first thing for a lost sinner who
hears of Christ — let him pray. A soul truly in earnest after salvation will cry for
belp. Self-preservation is the first law of nature, and when our strength fails,
prayer is nature's messenger for helpers. And when did nature fail to pray in her
need ? Hunger wUl beg and pain cry out. Though the fever have caused madness,
the sufferer will still ciy for water. None need teach the babe to clamour for its
nurture. Birds can plead for tiieir young, and the dog entreat you, with all the
power of speech, to follow him to the forest, where his master lies robbed and
bleeding. And has the soul no voice in its sickness unto death ? Is the instinct
of the brute a sure guide, and do the reason and conscience of men slumber or lie f
Or are they quicksighted and honest about bodily wants and earthly things, only to
show themselves utterly besotted, when glory, honour, and immortality are at stake ?
When your souls are in jeopardy, must you be phed with such urgency before you
will cry for help? If the voice of grace, sometimes warning, sometimes inviting, cannot
wake you and bring you to your knees, God will try the voice of unmixed vengeance.
IV. And do it at once. Pbohptness is another mark of a good hearer of the gospeL
It is found in Bartimeus. ♦♦ And when he heard," that is, as soon as he beard, ♦* ha
began to cry out." But what need of such haste? "Jesus is going slowly," h«
CHAP. X.J ST. MARK, 439
might say, "and some little while must pass before He is gone. Be sure I will be
in time " •* Or if He does get a little out of sight," Bartimeus might say, " while I
am attending to some little matters, I will run after Him and call Him." *♦ But I
only want a little time, and that for most important business," Bartimeus might
plead. But if Bartimeus choose to attend to his alms instead of his eyes, see if he
has not a still stronger reason. Begging is not only his business, but this happens
to be a very " busy season," as we say in the city, or ♦' harvest-time," as they say in
the country. A multitude was passing I He might go home almost rich — might
almost retire from business 1 And after all has not Providence given him this op-
portunity, and would it be exactly right to throw it away ? So have I heard pro-
fessors of religion and non-professors reason. So do they put earth's business
above all the calls of God. V. and VI. Two other marks of a good hearer of the
gospel are found in Bartimeus. He heard with faith and humility. He trusted
in Jesus and was lowly in heart. His faith even outran the word of the multitude.
They spoke of " Jesus of Nazareth," — Nazareth of Galilee — a despised town of a
despised province : but he could call Him " Son of David," and " Lord." And how
deep was his humility ! He hid nothing, pretended nothing. He came as he was.
Blind, he came as blind. Poor, he came as poor. A beggar, he came as a beggar.
And so it is always. Faith and humility meet in the sinner's experience, not as
occasional companions only ; they ever walk lovingly together as sisters. They
cannot separate. Like the Siamese twins they hve in each other's presence
alone; should they part, they would die. A sinner cannot believe in Jesus and
not be humble; he cannot be truly humble without believing in Jesus. (Ibid.)
That he should hold his peace. That he should hold hia peace : — There is never a
knock at heaven's gate but it sounds through hell, and devils come out to silence
it. The ungodly world bids anxious souls to hold their peace. It cannot bear the
sinner's distress. If his conscience is disturbed its own is not quite easy. There-
fore the world sets itself to make an end of these convictions. For this it has
innumerable devices. It will flatter or curse. For some it has persecutions, for
others promotions. But I pause not on any of these. I wish now to address the
professed people of God. I say, then, plainly : you are in great danger every day
of rebuking anxious souls, and charging them to hold their peace. I. By injudi-
cious CBiTicisM OF SERMONS you may stifle convictions and drive sinners away from
Christ. I cannot better illustrate this caution than by a true narrative from ♦* The
Central Presbyterian." " A pious lady once left a church in this city (Kichmond),
in company with her husband, who was not a professor of religion. She was a
woman of unusual vivacity, with a keen perception of the ludicrous, and often
playfully sarcastic. As they walked along toward home, she began to make some
amusing and spicy comments on the sermon, which a stranger, a man of very
ordinary talents and awkward manner, had preached that morning in the absence
of the pastor. After running on in this vein of sportive criticism for some time,
surprised at the profound silence of her husband, she turned and looked np in his
face.* He was in tears. That sermon had sent an arrow of conviction to his
heart 1 What must have been the anguish of the conscience-stricken wife, thus
arrested in the act of ridiculing a discourse which had been the means of awakening
the anxiety of her unconverted husband 1" II. Beware also of unseasonablb
LEVITY AFTBB SOLEMN APPEALS. III. This briugs to mind another way by which
you may bid sinners hold their peace — by blindness to any beginning conceen.
Would you see how you should watch ? Come with me to the chamber where a
babe lies dying. A breathless messenger has gone for the physician, but still he
comes not. How the worn mother gazes on her little sufferer in an agony of fond-
ness and fear ; how she sinks in anguish before the mercy-seat, and pleads like the
Syrophenician woman at the feet of Jesus ; how she rises wildly, and watches at
the window for the physician ; how at every sound of wheels she flushes with
eagerness, and then grows sick at heart as they turn the comer, and the sound
dies away ; how she springs to the door as his well-known etep is heard on the
stair ; and then, as he searches every symptom, how she waits on his every look,
living on a gleam of hope, ready to die if his face is darkened by a cloud I IV.
Nor is this the worst. Professing parents often lay plans fob theib chudben
dzbectly opposed to the Spirit's wore. {Ibid.) Pertinacity successful in the end : —
Success in this world comes only to those who exhibit determination. Can we
hope for salvation unless our mind is truly set upon it ? Grace makes a man to
be as resolved to be saved as this beggar was to get to Jesus, and gain his sight.
** I must see him," said an applicant at the door of a public person. *' Yon caimol
;40 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [cha». &
ee him," said the servant ; but the man waited at the door. A friend went out to
'lira, and said, *' You cannot see the master, but I can give you an answer." "No,"
ae replied; •• I will stay all night on the doorstep, but I will see the man himselL
de alone will serve my turn." You do not wonder that, after many rebuffs, he
altimately gained his point ; it would be infinitely greater wonder if an importunate
jinner did not obtain an audience from the Lord Jesus. If you must have grace, you
jhall have it. If you will not be put off, you shall not be put off. Whether thing»
ook favourable or unfavourable, press you on till you find Jesus, and you shall find
Him. (C. H. Spurgeon.) And Jesus stood still. Arresting Christ : — When Jesus
thus ♦' stood still," He was on His way for the last time to Jerusalem. His " hour"
^as drawing nigh, and He was hastening to meet it. Can He be arrested in
ihis journey? Where is the event mighty enough to stay His course? What
iestiny of man or empire is worthy even of a thought from Him now?
' He stood still." Let us also stand and admire. Here let us learn the grace
»f our Redeemer, and lay up in our hearts the blessed teaching. Then
nay we learn how unreasonable and how unnatural is a favourite clamour of
nfidels against the gospel. They say they carmot believe that the Son of God
came to this world and died for its redemption. This world is too small and mean
•n the great scale'of the universe, to allow them to think that the Creator of countless
oaillions of glorious suns and systems, could have stooped to love and care and
iuffer and die for the poor creatures of a day, who live on this insignificant planet.
To a narrow vision a structure may seem unsightly from its vastness, while in
miniature the same eye might find the proportions exquisite. And have we not, in
this standing still of Jesus, amidst tna urgencies of such a journey, at the call of a
beggar, a miniature of the very things by which some are confounded or repelled,
in the immense transactions of the Atonement ? It was worthy of the illustrious
Stranger — nay, it was beautiful, it was sublime — to stay for the relief of the un-
happy beggar, though His own mind was burdened with the weight of the infinite
sacrifice He was about to offer. Then who shall so vilify the redemption of men
by the Gross, as to pronounce it unworthy of the Sovereign of a universe to which
our earth is but an atom ? Shall an astronomer be so lost in God's glory declared
by the heavens, in their measureless and bright immensity, as to scorn the thought
of His upholding and blessing each sun and star ? Then, if these philosophers
gaze on the luminous, illimitable fields of creation, until their dazzled minds turn
back with contempt to the world on which they dwell, and find no worth nor
grandeur in the Cross which redeems it, though it saves numbers without number
from perdition, and glorifies them in the light of God, and displays His Attributes
before an admiring universe, let us hold up the confessed truthfulness and beauty
of this simple incident, till, " like a mirror of diamond, it pierce .their misty eye*
ball " and lead them on to the acknowledgment of the truth. " Jesus stood still,"
and when did He ever refuse to stay at the call of the distressed sinner ? Nay, if
He stayed then, when can He refuse ? Is He not the same yesterday, to-day, and
for ever ? The fires of eternal vengeance stood still over Sodom till Lot was gone
out. The waves stood still, and the depths were congealed in the heart of the sea
till the children of Israel passed over. The down-rushing waters of swollen Jordan
stood still, as the feet of the priests touched their brim, and rose up as a wall till
the chosen tribes had gained their inheritance. At the cry of Joshua, the sun
stood still in the midst of the heavens, and the moon in the valley of Ajalon, until
the Lord's hosts had avenged themselves upon their enemies. So we may look
upon His call, and the gracious call of every sinner who becomes a saint, in its
Divine origin, its gentle instruments, and its effectual aids. I. " He called."
Our vocation is of God. He hath called us out of darkness into His marvellous
light. " He called." This word of Matthew contains, as in the seed, the ex-
pressions of Mark and Luke. All the agencies, by which the soul is persuaded and
enabled to embrace Jesus Christ freely offered to us in the gospel, are hidden in
this. His loving call, as the leaves and flowers and golden fruit are all folded in the
germ. Many providences, many scriptures, many ordinances, many movements of
the Spirit may lay hold on a soul to draw it to Christ ; but they are all so many
threads which Christ holds in His own hand. They have all their power from
His drawing. Then let us use this truth for holy fear. If you resist the appeals
of God's ministers, you resist God. " He called." In Jesus Christ we behold the
best of preachers — the Divine Exemplar after whom all should copy. II. "He
commanded him to be called." Th Lord gave the word ; great was the company
of them that published it. Let him that heareth, say, Come 1 Then all the called
enAF. X.] 8T, MARK, 441
may themselves become callers. III. And now what a word of good oheer the
third evangelist speaks — ** He oommanded him to be brought unto Him ! '* Admire
the Lord's grace to the blind man. He will not leave him to grope his dark way
alone. Some shall lead him by tha hand. In whatever way, he shall have all thd
aid he needs to come into the Saviour's very presence. Blessed thought 1 that we
j^ho are but men may have some share in this dear work of guiding blind souls to
Jesus. But here I rather choose to think of the higher than human aid, which Christ
sends with His word to the souls of His chosen. The energy of Almighty power accom-
panies the preaching of the truth, i The Spirit and the Bride say, Come I {Prof. W.
J. Hoge.) A gospel sermon to outsiders : — I. Many persons who are really seeking the
Saviour greatly want comforting. There is a sort of undefined fear that these good
things are not for them. They are cast down because they think they have been
seeking in vain. They are sad because many round about them discourage them.
Their sadness also rise from their spiritual ignorance. They regard conversion as
something very terrible. II. This comfort is to be found in the text. The general
gospel call ought to yield great comfort to any seeking soul. But there is also an
effectual call. III. This comfort should lead to immediate action. The exhorta-
tion to rise means instant decision. It means also resolution. You are also to
cast away everything that would hinder you from finding salvation. {C, H. Spurgeon.)
He calleth thee. The analogy would be perfect, if those who were sent to Barti-
meus had themselves been blind, until their eyes had been opened by Christ. And
who can say that it was not so with some of them ? Then with what generous
indignation must they have heard the cruel rebukes of the multitude 1 Then, too,
with what alarmed sympathy would these men, once blind, now seeing, have
regarded Bartimeus, if he had wavered in his earnestness after Christ I And with
what alacrity would these messengers of Christ have hastened to bear His words of
welcome to the blind man I Joy beyond expression would have inspired them. I
have heard of a caravan which had lost its way in the desert. For days they could
find no water. The suffering was sore, and many were perishing. Men were out
in all directions searching for the water that was to be indeed water of life. At
last, faint and ready to die, one man lighted on a spring. Cool and clear the
stream gushed from the rock. Almost frantic with thirst, he rushed forward and
drank, drank. Oh, how deep was the bliss of that draught I Is it strange that for
one moment he thought only of himself ? But suddenly the perishing multitude
came before his mind, and he leaped up, and ran shouting, •♦ Water 1 water I
Enough for all ! Come and drink ! " And so from rank to rank of that scattered
host he sped, until he had told them all, and was himself thirsty again. But when
he saw the eager crowds rushing to the fountain, when he beheld the refreshment
and gladness of all hearts and faces, and then stooped once more himself to drink
the hberal stream, was not his second draught full of deeper bliss than even the
first? Had he ever tasted such water as that? O blessed souls who have drank
of the river of life, lift up your voice upon the mountains, and let your feet be
swift upon the plains, publishing the good tidings of salvation. This brings to
view the joyfulness of the gospel. It is not a message of gloom, a thing to be
whispered in darkness as a dreadful secret. We dishonour the gospel when we
would recommend it by a melancholy visage. Such is the spirit of the tidings
these messengers bring to Bartimeus, in this, his second gospel sermon. The first
told him simply that Jesus was passing by. Now he hears these heart-reviving
words, •• Be of good comfort ; rise ; He calleth thee." '* Be of good comfort." On
thy long night, without moon or star, or even a dim candle in thy dwelling, the
Day-star is dawning. Thine eyes have never been used but for weeping ; they
seemed only made for tears. But now they shall serve thee for seeing. Sinners,
poor, wretched, and blind, but crying for the Saviour, be not disconsolate. " Be of
good comfort." After your night of weeping, your morning of joy has come.
" Bise 1 " say the preachers to Bartimeus, and so we cry. There is salvation for the
sinner, none for the sluggard. Bise, then, ye unpardoned. Away with your fears
and doubts. They are unreasonable and wicked. Break off your indifference. It
is a noiseless chain, indeed, but be not deceived ; the chain that does not clank is
the tightest. Let me take the trumpet of the Holy Ghost, and may He fill it wiUi
a sound that shall pierce your heart ; — Awake thou that sleepest, and arise from
the dead, and Christ shall give thee light ! " He alleth thee." What more canst
thou want, Bartimeus ? If He calls thee. He will cure thee. If He calls, who can
forbid ? Thy call is thy warrant. The call of Christ is warrant enough for any
sinner. He may use it against the Law and Satan and his own evil oonscieuce*
H2 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [0HA». &
For example, Satan comes to him and says — " What, wretch I art thon going to
Christ f" "Ay, that I am, with all my heart." "Bat will He receive thee?"
" Ay, that He will, with all His heart." " Truly, thou art a brave talker I Who
taught thee this lofty speech ? " •* Nay, my speech is lowly, and I learned it of my
Lord." But where is thy warrant ? None can go to Christ without a warrant."
"He calleth me — be that my warrant!" ''But where is thy fitness?" sayi
Satan, shifting his ground. " Be my warrant my fitness — ^He calleth me," answen
the sinner, keeping his ground, his only ground. " But listen, soul 1 Thou art
going before a King. He cannot look upon iniquity " (for you see Satan can
quote Scripture), " and thou art but a mass of iniquity " (here the devil affects a
great horror of it, to fill the sinner with fear^. " The heavens are not clean in Hia
sight ; how then shall thy filthiness appear oefore Him f Look at thy rags, if thy
blind eyes will let thee, and say, what a dress is this to take into His presence I "
" It is all true," says the contrite sinner, " still I will go, for He calleth me. I will
bind this call about me and it shall be my dress, till He give me another. I will
hold up this call, written with His own hand, and signed with His own name,
and sealed with His own blood, and it shall be my defence and plea. Miserable
and unworthy as I am, and deserving, I know, to die, with this I have boldness and
access with confidence, saying only, like httle Samuel, Here am I, for Thou didsl
call me 1 " Bartimeus needed no more. " Casting away his garment, he rose and
came to Jesus." It could not be otherwise. True earnestness does not wait.
Conscious wretchedness in the presence of a trusted Saviour cannot delay. Only
half-convictions can procrastinate. The ancient heathen had this saying : " Tht
feet of the avenging deities are shod with wool." Shod with wool 1 Yes, they
crept with noiseless steps, that the touch that aroused might be the blow that de>
etroyed. It is not so with our merciful God. He sounds an alarm that we may
seek a refuge. His thunder rolls along the distant horizon, that we may take in
sail and be ready for the storm, the storm which would have burst upon ns no lesi
surely without this gracious warning. As Bartimeus rose to hasten to Jesus,
he " cast away his garment," his loose upper robe. He would sufifer no hin.
drance. He may have thrown it aside unconsciously, but it was the action of
nature— nature in earnest for some great end. Let us take the lesson. If we
would win Christ, we must lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily
besets ns — ^the sin we have daily wrapped about us like our garment. (Prof.
W. J, Hoge,) What wUt thon? OurufaTOs imut be expressed :—U we would
conmiune with Christ, we must draw near to Him. If we would hear Hia
voice, we must fall down before Him. It is only there that heaven and
earth may meet in peace. "What wilt thon that I should do unto thee? "
A goodly word, indeed I What would not a soul, struggling in the depths and
entanglements of sin, give once to hear it from his Lord? Let us admire
— L The FXJLKXss of thb gbacb. The tender love of Christ to lost souls is a
great deep, without bottom and without shore. The wing of no angel can bear
him BO high that he can look over all its extent. The guilt of no sinner has
been able to sound all its depth. King Ahasuerus said unto Queen Esther at
the banquet of wine, What is thy petition ? and it shall be granted thee : and
what is thy request? even to the half of my kingdom shall it be performed.
And so the monarchs of the East delighted to speak. But their utmost promisa
was half the kingdom, and their kingdoms were earthly, bounded and unsubstantial,
and their pompous generosity often but the flourishing rhetoric of lust, pride, an4
wine. But Jesus puts no limit to His offers. Ask, it shall be given you. Ask,
and ye shall receive, that your joy may be full. Whatsoever ye shall ask in Mv
name, that will I do. In Him are all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge. AU
power is given unto Him in heaven and in earth. IL Let us also admire ths
FBEENEss 07 Chbist's OFFERS TO LOST siNNEBS. The freonass of the offer springa
from the fulness of the grace. " What wilt thou ? " Choose for thyself, Bartimeus.
If thou dost not carry away a noble gift, it is thine own fault. I do not set bounds
to thy desires. The treasure is infinite, and thou hast it all to choose from. The
Spirit of the Lord is not straitened, and if we are, it is in ourselves. (Jod's graoa
is always larger than man's desire, and freer than his faith. If we take httle
pitchers to the well, we shall carry little water away. Though the golden bowl ba
full of golden oil, the lamp will bum dim, if the golden pipe be narrow or ohokad.
The ocean itself can pour but a scanty stream through a slender channel. UI. Sn
HOW Chbibx'b obacb ookdescends to bvebt soul's pkculiab need. He will suit
His grantilg to our asking. To e ery soul He says, " What wilt thou ? " IV. Tbia
z.] ST. MARK,
question teaches that, thongh Ghbxbt shows w:iat we want and what Hb will
DO, Hs WILL BATS US EXPRESS ouB WANTS. Through all the oold, dark night the
petals of the flower were shut. So the sun found it and poured his rays upon it, till its
heart felt the warmth. Then it yearned to be filled with these pleasant beams, and
opened its bosom to drink them in. And so it is with man's prayer and God's
grace. How pointless are the prayers we often hear. They scatter weakly over
the whole ground. They have no aim and do no execution. If we would pray
well, we must have something to pray for, something we really crave, we must
know our wants, feel our wants, express our wants. We must have " an errand
at the Throne." I learned that expression from a pious old slave. He was
asked the secret of the fervour and spirit with which he always prayed. ** Oh,"
said he, "I have always an errand at the Throne, and then I just tell the Lord
what I come for, and wait for an answer." Thus, too, shall we wait for an
answer. Even the sportsman, who cares not for his game, follows the arrow
with his eye, till he sees it strike. But how many never oast a second glance
after a prayer which has left their lips I (I&td.) What wilt thou t : — Did the
omniscient Redeemer not know what was the calamity under which this man
groaned ? He did. It was evident to all the world. Was He not aware of the
desire of Bartimens' heart 7 and that what he sought was not an ordinary alms?
Undoubtedly, and He had already resolved to restore his sight. Why then did He
put this question ? It was that He might more fully manifest His Father's glory ;
that He might awaken the man to a deeper consciousness of his misery; call
forth his faith into liveliest exercise ; and, especially, teach him and all of us the
nature and necessity of fervent prayer. 1. God has appointed a definite way in
which we are to obtain His aid and deHveranoe. If we would have we must ask.
Prayer is the means He has prescribed. Why ? We could not enjoy the blessing of
God without it. It is indispensable as a preparation of our hearts. 2. Our prayers
must be definite and precise. Beware of vague, general, pointless prayers. State at
once the evil you would have removed, the want you would have supplied, the pro-
mise you would have fulfilled. 3. He who asks the question in the text, can answer it.
Jesus has all things at His disposal. There is no limit either to His resources or His
readiness to help. Be not afraid to ask much, to expect much, and much you shall
obtain. He imposes no conditions, no price, no merit. {A. Thomson.) Immediately
he received his sight. Blindnets removed: — ^I. What, then, does this healing stand
for in the higher spiritual world f Surely, nothing less than regeneration — the new
birth of the soul. Of the many images employed by the Holy Ghost to set forth
our natural state, perhaps none is more frequent than blindness. Darkness is ever
the chosen symbol of the kingdom of Satan, and light of the kingdom of God. 1.
That the new birth is from God. If the harp be broken, the hand of the maker
may repair it, and wake the chords again to their old power and sweetness. There
is hope of a tree, if it be cut down, that it will sprout again, and that the tender
branch thereof will not cease. Though the root thereof wax old in the earth, and
the stock thereof die in the ground, yet through the scent of water it will bud and
bring forth boughs like a plant. But who can restore the shattered crystal, so that
the sunbeams shall stream through it without finding a flaw, and flash, once more,
as of old, in the ever-changing play of their splendour ? And who can open the
eyes of the blind ? Who can restore to that most lustrous and precious of gems,
its expression and power, when distorted and blotted by disease or violence ? Who
shall open again those delicate pathways for the light of two worlds — the outer
world shining in and filling the soul with images of beauty, and that inner world
shining out in joy, love, and thankfulness? Surely none bat the Maker of this
curious frame, who, when sin had so cruelly marred it, came in compassion as
infinite as His might, to be Bedeemer and Restorer where He had already been
Creator. Only He can open the eyes of the bUnd. The power of God is in that
work. But if a man die shall he live again f Oh, if the soul be dead, dead in guilt
and corruption and the ourse of Almighty God, can it revive ? Yes, thanks be to
God ! by reason of the working of His mighty power, which He wrought in Christ,
when He raised Him from the dead (after He had been delivered for our offences),
we also may be quickened, who were dead in trespasses and sins, and children of
wrath, we may be quickened together with Christ ; for we are His workmanship,
created in Christ Jesus unto good works. 2. In the light of this miracle we also
learn that, whatever activities the sinner may put forth before and after his
regeneration, in the great change he is passive. ^1 the agonies of the blind man,
all his tears and cries, all his rolling and straining his sightless balls, had jost
144 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [cha». x.
nothing at all to do with the act of restoration. That was Christ's alone. And so
in the new birth — ** bom of God," tells it all. It is the ** unparticipated work " of
the Holy Ghost In this, regeneration is distinguished from conversion. God torna
the man, but the man, so moved, turns with his whole heart. It is the day of God's
great "power," but also of the sinner's great *' willingness." The fire which the
sun has kindled mounts toward it at once. The kindling of the heavenly flame is
regeneration ; its upward motion, conversion. Begeneration is the Divine cause ;
conversion, the sure effect. Where there is the grace of life, there will be a life of
grace. 3. Light did not open Bartimeus' eyes, nor does truth alone regenerate the
sinner. Pouring light on blind eyes will not heal them. Flashing truth, even
God's glorious truth, on the sinner's mind will not regenerate him. Bartimeus was
as blind at noon as at midnight. The sinner is as blind under the blaze of the
gospel as amid the glooms of heathenism. II. Let me now speak of the greatness
and glory of this change. III. As " Bartimeus immediately received his sight,"
so, in regeneration, the great change is instantaneous. There is some one moment
when the vision of the blind man, and the new life of the sinner begins. It may
be feeble, but it has begun, and for the faintest beginning the creative act is needed.
The main thing for every sinner is, to be able on good ground to say. Whereas I
was bliud, now I see. If he can say this, and have the witness of the Spirit to its
truth, it matters httle whether he is able to add. On such a day, in such a place, by
such and such means, my eyes were opened. A good ship has been broken by the
tempest. Mast and rudder and compass, all are gone. The storm is over, but the
wreck is drifting away blindly through night and fog. At length all is still, and the
wondering sailors wait for the day. Tardily and uncertainly it dawns, and as the
heavy mists slowly dissolve, all eyes are busy trying to discover where they are.
At length one descries a cliff which seems familiar, another a pier in which he can
hardly be mistaken, a third the old church spire, under whose shadow his mother
is Bleeping, and now, as the sun breaks forth, they all cry out in joyful assurance,
that they are in the desired haven ! Mysteriously and without their aid, the Buler
of wind and wave has brought them there, and all are exulting in the great
deliverance. Nay, shall we say not all ? Can you imagine one poor melancholy
man refusing to rejoice, and even doubting these evidences, because he cannot teU
the hour and angle of his arrival, nor whether he was borne chiefly by currents of
air or ocean ? IV. On the blessedness of this change in Bartimeus — image of the
spiritual blessedness of him who is first tasting that the Lord is gracious — I
can hardly bring myself to comment. When after long imprisonment in the
chamber of suffering, we go forth again, leaning, perhaps, on the arm of a con-
genial friend, to breathe once more the fresh air, and rejoice in the measureless
freedom of nature, she seems to have clothed her green fields and forests, her blue
skies and waters, in a brighter pomp of " summer bravery " than ever before, and
the strange beauty fills and almost oppresses the soul. In what affecting terms
does Dr. Kane describe the almost adoring rapture with which the return of the
first sunshine was hailed, after the long horror of an Arctic night — the froaen black-
ness of months' duration, when he eagerly climbed the icy hills "to get the luxury
of basking in its brightness," and made the grateful record, " To-day, blessed be the
Great Author of light 1 I have once more looked upon the sun ; " while his poor
men, sick, mutilated, broken- hearted, and ready to die, crawled painfully from their
dark berths to look upon his healing beams ; when " everything seemed superlative
lustre and unsurpassable glory," when they could not refrain ; they " oversaw the
light." But what was this, what were all these, to the wonder and joy of Barti-
meus* first vision of the mighty works of God? They already had the sense of
sight, and had enjoyed many pleasurable exercises of it. To him the very sense is
new, nnimagined before. And now, at the word of Christ, the glorious element
comes streaming, suddenly and for the first time, and in its fulness, with thrills of
inconceivable bliss, upon the sense and soul buried from birth in utter darkness.
And what did he see first ? Jesus, his best friend, his Saviour 1 Jesus, chief est of
ten thousand and altogether lovely ; O enviable lot ! The first image which the
light of heaven formed in his soul was the image of that dear face ; 0 rich recom-
pense for the long psuns of blindness ! The first employment of his eyes was in
beholding Him that opened them ; O blessed consecration of his new powers and
pleasures ! Gaze on, old man I Thou canst not look too ardently or too long. But
IS the joy which attends spiritual illumination answerable to this f Not always (we
have seen) as the immediate result. But it is attainable, and very soon the behever
ought to have it, and, unless through ignorance, error, or guilt, will have it, and
. X.] 8T. MARK. 445
that abundantly. Moreover, the Bible is the Bole Bevealer of a conception of joy,
in comparison with which every other idea of it, wherever found, is poor, earthly.
and already darkened with the taint of death. It is a conception in which ever^
best element of every earthly delight, by whatever name known — all the serenity of
peace, all the exhilaration of hope, all the satisfaction of fruition, all the liveliness
and sparkle of joy, all the mellower radiance of gladness, all the flush and bound
of exaltation, all the thrill and movement of rapture, are wrought into one sur-
passing combination, which, chastened by holiness, softened by charity, dignified
by immortality and transfused by the beams of the all-encircling glory of the God-
head, ia Blessedness. It elevates the soul to know of such a state as possible for
itself ; it purifies it to hope for it ; strengthens it to strive after it. What, then,
must it be to taste it, as we may on earth, and drink it to the full, as we shall for ever
in heaven! The Lord's answer: — An echo from within the Veil I "Lord,
that I might receive my sight I " cried the suppliant without. " Receive thy
sight I " answers the Sovereign within. And so, if Christ suits BUs granting to
oar asking, it is because the Spirit has first shaped our asking to His granting. The
porpose of grace is the foundation of the prayer of faith. Eternal grace is the
mould into which faith is cast. Therefore there is harmony between faith and
grace. " Grace crowns what grace begins." And so *• faith saves " and grace saves ;
faith as the instrument, and grace as the Divine efficiency ; faith the channel, and
grace the heavenly stream ; faith the finger that touches the garment's fringe, and
grace the virtue that pours from the Saviour's heart. Faith cannot scale the dreadful
precipice from which nature has fallen, but it can lay hold on the rope which grace
haa let down even into its hands from the top, and which it will draw ap again with
all the burden faith can bind to it. And this is all the mystery of faith's saving.
Christ reaches down from heaven, and faith reaches ap from earth, and each hand
grasps the other ; one in weakness, the other in power. Yea, the hand of faith is
often but a poor, benumbed hand, stretched out in anguish from the dark flood where
the soul is sinking. Followed Jesus in the wslj.— Attachment to ChrUt .'—Who-
ever has looked unto Jesus as the Author of his faith, will look unto Him as the
Finisher. If the eyes be opened truly to see Him, the heart will be opened truly to
love Him ; and when the heart is thus enlarged, like David, we will run in the way
of His commandments. This is the test of discipleship : *' If any man serve Me,
let him follow Me." 0 friends, let tu follow Him whithersoever He goeth. Let us
follow Him "in the way" — the way laid down in Bib Word, the way opened
by His Providence, the way of which the Spirit whispers, " This is the way,
walk ye in it." Sometimes His way is in the sea, and His path in the great
waters, and His footsteps are not known. The path of many of us may lie
much in the Valley of Humiliation — a life of obscurity, poverty, and lowly toil.
We may be Christ's hidden ones all our days. So thy way, believer, must
lie by the cross and the grave. But beyond the grave is the resurrection, and
then the crown of hfe for ever. Christ revealed to the needy : — The loss of sight
is spiritually the most significant of all privations. The loss of Eden was perhaps
truly a loss of sight — a great shadow, as of an eclipse, fell over all the beauty and
splendour of the world, as the sinner's eye grew dun. Sin is privative. It works
on us by limiting and finally destroying our powers. But this blind beggar had
learned in, perhaps through, his bHnduess, more than Scribes and Pharisees knew.
None of them have an eye for the Son of David, whom he saw in his blindness.
Christ is revealed to those who need Him most. The man's importunity. He cast
aside his garment and came to Jesus. It means impetuosity, and carelessness about
external things. He came in the naked simplicity of his need. I. To see spiritually
is to see Christ, the Light of the world, and to be penetrated with the sense of the
beauty and fulness which are in Him. II. A soul fully enlightened sees that in
Jesus is all its salvation and all its hope. (J. B. Browne B.A.) ChrisVs recognition
of faith : — I. The application. 1. He applies in h» right quarter. 2. In the right
spirit. 3. At the right time. U. The bbcept n. 1. Most gracious. 2. Most
satisfactory. UI. The effect of thb cube. He followed Jesus in the way up to
Jerusalem. The love of Christ constrained him Thus gifts from the hands of
Jesus attach us to His Person. They form a link between us and Him. They are
as a magnet to draw us. {H. Bonar, D.D.) Christ and the blind: — I. Christ
eame to open the eyes of the blind, and to be the Light of the world. U. He did not
disregard the meanest, and was ever ready to d good. III. Some wait long in
darkness before obtaining the help desired. IV. Faith perseveres, reeeives en-
eoungement, and attains its end. (J. ff. Godwin,)
4M THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap.
CHAPTEB XL
Vebs. 1-11.— And when they came nigh to Jernsalem, nnto Bethpha«:e and
Bethany, at the Mount of Olives. — The triumphal entry : — I. The occasion or this
HOMAGE. II. The scene of this homage. Scene of — 1. His ministry. 2. His
martyrdom. IIL The offerers of this homaqe. IV. By what actions this homage
WAS expressed, v. The language in which this homage was uttered. (J. R,
Thomson.) Christ entering Jerusalem: — The story presents to view Christ's sovb-
REiGNTT OVER ALL MEN. II. This story also Bxhibits Christ's foreknowledge of all
ORDINARY EVENTS. He tells the disciples, as they set forth to do this errand, just what
will happen. III. Then again, this story discloses Christ's power over all the brute
CREATION (Luke xix. 35). No other instance of Jesus' riding upon an animal of any
sort has been recorded in His history ; and of all, this must have been a beast most
difficult to employ in a confused pageant. IV. Once more : this story illustrates
Christ's majesty as the Messiah of God. Two of the evangelists quote at this point
the Old Testament prophecy concerning this triumphal entry into Jerusalem (Zech. ix.
8, 9). (C. S. Robinson, D.D,) Christ entering Jerusalem : — ^What is the meaning ol
the day? What was the purpose of the demonstration ? The suggestions that Jesus lost
control of either Himself or of the people, so as to be carried away by their enthusiasm,
are unworthy of His former history and of His subsequent teachings. I. The day
IS MEMORABLE FOR ITS SURPRISES AND REVERSALS OF JUDGMENT. JeSUS Only judged
rightly ; next to Him the children in the temple. The hopes and visions of the
people and disciples were wide of the mark and doomed to disappointment. This
day to them promised a throne, but hastened the cross and a tomb. The fears and
hates of the Pharisees and rulers were surprised and reversed. Jesus made no
attempt at temporal power and offered no resistance. II. This day emphasizes
SPIRITUALITY AS THE ONLY KEY TO A BIGHT UNDERSTANDING OF PERSONS AND PROVI-
denceb. Christ was revealed as a king, but not of this world. After the gift of the
Spirit the apostles clearly perceived the prediction of prophecy, the prediction ol
providence, in the songs of praise. HI. What the day teaches of the child-
like SPIRIT should not ESCAPE. IV. We SHALL NOT BE TOO BOLD IN PBONOUNOING
this day MEMORABLE AS A PROPHECY. The meaning of it was projected into the
future. It is prophetic of the entrance into the heavenly Jerusalem, when, indeed,
souls shall give Him homage. That triumphal entry into the city of David was
followed by crucifixion. This triumphal entry into the city of God shall be con-
summated in coronation. (J. R. Danford.) " Who is this f " — I. Let us investi-
gate THE DIFFERENT FEELINGS WHICH GAVE BIRTH TO THIS INQUIRY. 1. With many
it was a feeling of thoughtless wonder. 2. Angry jealousy prompted the question
in some. 3. There was yet another class of questioners, whose state of mind may
properly be described as that of irresolute doubt. IL The true answer to the
QUESTION. 1. Go to the multitude by whom Jesus is surrounded, and ask, " Who is
this ? " 2. Go to the ancient prophets and ask, " Who is this ? " (Zecji. ix- 9). 3.
Go to the apostles after they were enlightened by the Holy Spirit. 4. Go to the
experienced believer. (J. Jowett, M.A.) Honouring Christ: — I. Consideb the
MEANING OF THE INCIDENT ITSELF, THE SPIRIT AND TRUTH WHICH IT EXPRESSES. It
was, in fact, an expressive illustration of His claims as the Messiah. It was a
spontaneous heart-offering. It indicates Christ's influence on His own age. The
truth does get honoured at times, even in its own time. The prophet is not
without his reward. A noble life will touch the hearts of the people. II. Consideb
SOME OF THE LESSONS WHICH ARE TO BE DRAWN FBOM THE CONDUCT OF THE MULTI-
TUDE. The reputation of Christ was great. The multitude was lashed into enthu-
siasm. But then came disappointment. He assumed no royal dignity. "Crucify
Him I " It was the fickle element that helps to constitute public opinion. We
should, therefore, consider the grounds and motives from which we honour Christ.
He demands more than our fickle, transient homage. He is not truly honoured by
mere emotions. Men get glimpses of Christ's beauty and power. EQs sacrifice in
its incidents moves to tears ; but the real spirit and significance of it all are missed.
Christ needs more than good resolutions under the influence of emotional excite-
ment. We have to honour Him by our perfect self-surrender and trust ; and by
our actions amid the mire, and toil, and dust of daily traffic. Beal honour must be
faithfiU and persistent, like that of the loving women who, when Peter meanly
shrank, stood at the last hour by His cross, and were, on the first dawn ol
Easter Day, at His sepulchre. There will necessarily be variationa in religions
CHAP, n.] ST, MARK, *47
moods. But uplifting moments should leave us higher when they pass. Christ
asks more than public honours. Professional respectabilities not enough. He
wants individual honour and homage. The true heart's sacrifice more than the
hosannas of the thoughtless hollow crowd. III. Considkb the significance op
THIS TRANSACTION IN ITS BELATioNS TO Chbist Himself. It reveals His true glory.
He despised the earthly crown. Outward glory was not His object. He manifested
the internal, spiritual, eternal. The kind of triumph here symbolized. ^ That was
one to be reached through sorrow, agony, death ; a triumph of self-sacrificing love.
It was not the coronation of sorrow, but victory through death. There is no real
victory which does not partake of the qualities of the Lord's. Obedient, submissive,
self-sacrificing love is in our appointed path to the upward heights of glory. You
may share Christ's victory. Then honour Him in a kindred spirit of sympathy and
self-renunciation. My Lord and my God I Let every heart honour Him ! (E, H.
Chapin, D.D.)
Vers. 8—6. Say ye that the Lord hath Med of him.—" TJie Lord hath need of
you " ; — I. He wants you fob Himself. Jesus loves you ; you are to be the com-
pensation to Him for all He suffered. Christ feels incomplete without you. II. He
WANTS YOU FOR His Chubch. The Church is a building ; you can never tell what
stone the Great Master Builder may require next. It is a family — ^you complete
the circle. III. He wants you fob His work. IV. Hb wants you for His glory.
When the Lord wants anything you will let Him have it. 1. Your money. If He
takes it you will know that He had need of it. 2. Death. He has need of those
dear to us. There is great comfort in the fact that when Christ sent to appropriate
what was indeed His own, He sent also the constraining power of His own grace
to overrule that it might consent to the surrender. (J, Vanghant M.d.). On obeying
Christ :— The two disciples, without any questioning, proceeded upon their Master's
mission. L The pbinciple we have stated applies to all new undertakings in
which wb engage as servants of oub Saviour, acting under His mRECTioN.
It was a new thing He asked them to do when He sent them to bring to Him the
colt. Our Lord often asks us to do unlikely and unexpected things. God told
Moses to go to Egypt. God asked Jonah to do a new thing. If God asks us to
take a new departure. His hand will guide us. II. The principle illustbated
HEBE applies TO UNDEBTAKING8 WHICH ABB DIFFICULT AND MYSTEBIOUS, TO
WHICH OUB LoBD CALLS U8. What right had they to the colt ? There was a touch
of mystery — ^why such a beast of burden ? God often calls His people to diflBcult
and mysterious duties. Try to do it and all is well ordered. III. The pbinoiple
HEBE ILLUSTBATED APPLIES TO ALL UNDEBTAKINGS IN WHICH ChBIST'S BBBVAMTS
XNaAOS DiBECTLY FOB Hi8 BASE. **The Lord hath need ol him." (A, Scott.)
Vers. 8-10. And they spread their garments in the way.— E«K^i<n« excitement :—
How are we to deal with religious emotions when they are awakened in a more
than ordinary degree ? 1. We should make them subservient to the promotion of the
rectitude of our nature and of our life. With the kindhng of our religious emotions
there comes strength for action, and our care should be to use that strength for
right action. 2. It is not always safe to act under the impulse of strong feelings ;
therefore we need, at such seasons, to be more than ordinarily prayerful ; and at
such times conscience ought to be more than ever consulted. 3. If a man, under
the influence of religious excitement, does not do what conscience and God's law
clearly require of him, there is little reason to expect that he will do so when the excite-
ment shall have passed away. There are certain lessons taught us by this subject.
(1) That religious excitement has its sphere of usefulness in the development of
religious life ; (2) but it is a grievous mistake to regard emotional excitement as
the very essence and substance of religion. {F. Wagstaff.)
Vers. 13-14. And seeing a fig-tree afar off having leaves.- Nothing hut leaves :—
1. There webb biany trees with leaves only upon them, and yet none of
THESE WEBB CURSED BY THE Savioub, SAVE ONLY THIS FiG-TBEB. Here are some
of the characters who have leaves but no fruit. 1. Those who follow the sign and
know nothing of the substance. 2. Those who have opinion but not faith, creed
but not credence. 3. Those who have talk without feeling. 4. Those who have
regrets without repentance. 6. Those who have resolves without action. II.
ThXBE WEBB OTHEB TBEES WITH NEITHER LEAVES NOR FRUIT, AND NONB OF THESB
wbbb ctbssd. There are many characters who are destitute of both religion and
448 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [ghap. n.
profession. IH. Wb havb bbfobb its ▲ special oabs. To begin with the ezpltto*-
tion of this special case. 1. In a fig-tree fruit comes before leaves. 2. Where we
see the leaves we have a right to expect the fmit. 8. Our Lord hungers for fmit.
4. There are some who make unusual profession and yet disappoint the Saviour
in His just expectations. IV. Such a tbbe iiiaHT well bb withebed. Decep-
tion is abhorred of God. It is deceptive to man. It committed sacrilege upon
Christ. It condemned itself. (0. H. Spurgeon.) Je»u$ a Judge: — As if to show
that Jesus the Saviour is also Jesus the Judge, one gleam of justice must dart
forth. Where shall mercy direct its fall ? The curse, if we may call it a curse at
all, did not fall on man or beast, or even the smallest insect ; its bolt faUs harm-
lessly upon a fig-tree by the way-side. It bore upon itself the signs of barrenness,
and perhaps was no one's property ; little, therefore, was the loss which any man
sustained by the withering of ihfti rerdant mockery, while instruction more
precious than a thousand acres of fig-trees has been left for the benefit of all
ages. {Ibid.) Doctrine without practice: — I am sick of those cries of "the
truth," •♦ the truth," *' the truth," from men of rotten lives and unholy tempers.
There is an orthodox as well as a heterodox road to hell, and the devil knows how to
handle Galvlnists quite as well as Armenians. No pale of any Church can insure
salvation, no form of doctrine can guarantee to us eternal life. "Ye must be
born again." " Ye must bring forth fruits meet for repentance." (Ibid.) Leaves
without fruit: — When Christ came it was not the time of figs. The time for
great holiness was after the coming of Christ, and the pouring out of the Spirit.
All the other nations were without leaves. Greece, Bome, all these showed no
signs of progress ; but there was the Jewish nation covered with leaves. You
know the curse that fell on Israel. {Ibid), Profession without possession: — Like
Jezebel with her paint, which made her all the uglier, they would seem to be what
they are not. As old Adam says, " They are candles with big wicks but no tallow,
and when they go out they make a foul and nauseous smell," "and they have
summer sweating on their brow, and winter freezing in their hearts." You would
think them the land of Goshen, but prove them the wilderness of sin. (Ibid.)
Nothing but leaves : — Most readers of the Pilgrim's Progress will remember that
the Interpreter took Christiana and her family into his "significant rooms," and
showed them the wonders he had formerly exhibited to Christian ; and then the
story runs on thus : " When he had done, he takes them out into his garden again
and had them to a tree whose inside was all rotten and gone, and yet it grew and had
leaves. Then said Mercy, "What means this?" **This tree," said he, " whose
outside is fair, and whose inside is all rotten, is that to which many may be compared
that are in the garden of God ; who with their mouths speak high in behalf of
God, but indeed will do nothing for Him ; whose leaves are fair, but their heart good
for nothing but to be tinder for the devil's tinder-box." This was John Bunya.n'8
way of putting into an allegory what he had preached in his famous sermon on the
*' Barren Fig-tree." It shows the force with which the narrative now coming under
our study fastens itself in the popular imagination. L Let us begin with the
observation that God cherishes a beasonable expectation op fbuitfui^ness pbom
ALii His cbeatubes . Christ once told His disciples that He had chosen them and
ordained them that they should go and bring forth fruit, and that their fruit should
remain (John xv. 16). 1. This story teaches that what the Almighty expects is
only what is befitting nd appropriate to the nature of the being He has made and
endowed with a soul. 2. Then, next to this, the story suggests that . hat God
expects is that every individual shall bring forth his own fruit. It is not v. eyards
that bear clusters, but vines. It is not orchards that produce figs, but trees. The
all-wise One does not anticipate that one man or one woman, or that a few women
and a few men, shall do the whole work in each community or in each parish. For
there is nothing clearer in the Scripture than the declaration that every Christian
is held accountable pe sonally, and cannot be lost in a crowd. 3. The story also
teaches tbat God expects a proportionate quantity oi fruit from each person. And
this would have to be eckoned according to circumstances. Suppose one fig-tree
is standing a little better in the sunshine than another; suppose one receives
somewhat more of refreshing moisture than another ; suppose one has deeper soil
for its roots than another ; the rule will be, — the higher the favour, the riche^ must
be the fruit. The principle of the gospel is all in a single formula : " Unto whom-
soever much is given, of him shall be much required." Superior advantages
extend the measure of our responsibility for usefulness. 4. Once more : the story
teaches that the Master looks for fruit in the proper time for fruit. In the case tt
tmAT. n.] BT. MARK. 449
this tree, " the time was not yet." Figs come before leaves on that kind of tree.
So the appearance of leaves assumed the presence of fruit underneath them ; but none
was there. For some phenomenal reason this fig-tree was a hypocrite. Hence,
Jesus caught it for a parable with which to teach His disciples, and warn them off
from mere profession without performance. God does not in any case come pre-
cipitously demanding fruit, as soon as trees are planted ; He seems to respect the
laws of growth and ripening. He never hurries any creature of His hand. But
He gives help to the end He proposes. He certainly puts realities before shows ;
figs previous to leaves. And He has no patience or complacency for those who are
always making ready, and preparing, and getting started, and setting about things,
without ai y accomplishments or successes. H. This leads to a second observation
suggested by an analysis of the narrative: God ib sometimes mockbd by thb
PROFFER OF MERE PROFESSIONS INSTEAD OF FRUITFULNSSS. Ho COmeS for figS, but
He finds " leaves only " (Matt. xxi. 19). 1. II is possible to pat all one's religious
experience into mere show. That is to saj, it is possible to feign, or to imitate, or to
counterfeit, all the common tokens of a genuine Christian life, and yet possess no reali-
ties imderneath the pretence. Men may be traitors, heady, high-minded, lovers of
pleasures more than lovers of God ; having a form of godliness, but denying the
power thereof. All this is predicted of these latter times (2 Tim. iii. 1-7). Pro-
fessors of religion may appear to love the Church of the Redeemer, and be nothing
but sectarians. They may pray lengthily for a pretence, and devour widows*
houses meanwhile. They may ♦• repent " like King Saul, and " believe " like
Simon Magus. They may speak " with the tongues of men and angels," and be no
better in charity than a cymbal that tinkles. They may cry " Lord, Lord," and
yet not do a single thing which the Lord has commanded. And with all this
•mount of loathsome hypocrisy in the world, the patient God forbears. 3. The
sin of fruitlessness is always aggravated by the bold imposture of hypocritical
cant. The Scriptures startle a timid student sometimes with their daring demand
for clear issues, no matter where they will lead. Christ Himself is represented as
saying, "I woula thou wert cold or hot" (Rev. iii. 15-16). Elijah cries out, **If
Baal be God, follow him " (1 Kings xviii. 21). It is the temporizing, compro-
mising spirit of Naaman which destroys the historic picture of him (2 Kings ▼.
17-18). And the higher up into conspicuous assumption of sainthood one rises,
when his heart is bad, the more offensive are his character and publio professions
in the sight of a trath-loving God.
**Por sweetest things torn sourest by their deed;
Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.'*
m. Thvs we reach our third observation : God will in thb Bin> assxbt Hihsilf,
AND TXSZT on ALL FALSB PROFESSORS A FITTINa RETRIBUTION (Mark zl. 211. At
last the retribution is sure to come. The settled, calm, solemn decision is pro-
nounced, from which there is no appeal. (C. S. Robinson, D.D.) Thefruitlets life : —
The verdict against the tren is, ** nothing but leaves." 1. It is a remarkable descrip-
tion. It is the least offensive way of describing barrenness. Nothing but words,
forms, profession. 3. It is an expression of disappointment. Leaves are promises.
Christian profession is a promise to God and man. 3. It is a declaration of
nselessness. There is (1) nothing to do eredit to any one — to the garden, owner,
soil, root ; (2) nothing to be of nse to any one. 4. It is a sentence of doom.
** Nothing but leaves." 1. Then our creed is vain. 2. Our religion is vain. 8.
Oar Bible-reading is vain. 4. Our churchmanship is vain. 5. Our faith and hop«
are vain. 6. Our life is vain. {H. Bonar^ D.D.) The barren Jig-tree : — The
incident is full of instruction. I. As to oub Lord's Bbino. It reminds as of
the inseparable union between His humanity and His Divinitjr. 1. He was
hungry, and came looking for something which did not exist ; it bespeaks His
liability to that which was common to man. 3. He cursed the tree by the fiat of
an irresistible will, and nature was arrested, and the fountain of Ufe dried ap.
It marks the possession of a power which is shared by no mortal creature, but
is the sole prerogative of Almighty God. II. As to thb Jbwish nation. Jesos
had often taught by word. Here He arrests attention by a parable in action. It
was the sequel of the parable of the barren fig-tree (St. Luke xiii. 6); a rehearsal,
as it were, of the execution of the judgment then denoanced upon the Jewish
nation if they continued to bear no fruit. This tree had been refreshed by the
daws of heaven; the sunshine had warmed it with genial rays; the shelterinfl
29
450 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [<wi». n.
hill, perhaps, had warded off the chilling blasts, and all the seasonable inflaeneea
of Providence had ministered to its growth, but only to bring forth an ostentationa
show of unproductive leaves. And, as with that hapless tree, so with the nation.
All the care and culture of the Great Vine-dresser had been bestowed in vain; there
was nothing but a deceptive and pretentious display ; they were for ever giving
promise of fruit, but yielding none ; there was no return for unremitting attention ;
they cambered the soil, their end was to be burned, they were nigh to cursing.
(H. M. Luckock, D.D.) The penalty of barren professions .-—Yesterday Christ
wept over the fate of Israel, to-day He will warn them of it. And at once accord-
ingly He utters His warning on barrenness. It takes the form of a parabolic
action. Deeds speak louder than words, and, therefore, for the sake of a greater
impression, Christ places before every one's eyes the penalty of barrenness,
especially of barrenness concealed by hypocritical profession. He pronounces a
curse on the tree, which at once, in all its greenness and glory, begins to wither
away. 1. Barrenness is a very common and grievous sin. ^ It is very common,
because we think there is no particular harm in it. If we avoid committing actual
wrong, we think it no great matter if we neglect the discharge of duty. Accord-
ingly, many who would be shocked at being " sinful " are quite unconcerned at being
useless. There may, however, be the greatest guilt in uselessness. " Ye gave Me
no meat," ** ye gave Me no drink," " ye took Me not in," are words which accuse of
nothing but neglect, yet are followed by the doom, '• Depart from Me, ye cursed."
Sins of commission slay their thousands, but sins of omission their tens of
thousands. 2. The sin of barrenness is often accompanied and orbatlt
AGGRAVATED BY GREAT PROFESSIONS. Performance and profession are apt to be in
the inverse ratio of each other, for performance comes from a high standard, and a
high standard never permits complacency or boasting ; while a low standard permits
poor performance, and sanctions complacency along with it. In human trees the
combination is very frequent of pretentious foliage and poor fruitage. 3. Ali>
BARRENNESS LEADS TO DESTRUCTION. Nothing is permitted to exist except on condi*
tion that it employs its powers. Unused faculties decay ; and unemployed oppor.
timities are withdrawn. 4. The penalty of wilful barrenness is judicial
BARRENNESS. The punishment of uselessness which is voluntary, is such with
drawal of grace as makes it fixed and absolute. Wrong is wrong's penalty. Going
further astray is the penal result of going astray. {R. Glover.) The fruitiest
fig-tree : — I. Its bymbolio significancb. 1. Keasons for regarding it in a symbolic
sense. (1) Neither its fruitlessness nor its leafiness was a thing of its own volition,
therefore the tree was not blameworthy. (2) But as a symbol it was full of instruc-
tion, (a) As a correct representation of the heirarchical party in Jerusalem,
adorned with the leaves of a pretentious piety, but utterly barren of the real fruit
of a holy life, or reverence for God's Son. (6) As a correct representation of all
pretension to piety. U. Beasons fob begabdino its doom symbolic. 1. There
was neither conscience nor heart in the tree to be hurt by its withering. 2. FnU of
significance, however, as the type of the doom that awaits all those whom its fruit*
lessness represented. lU. Beasons for regarding its symbolic doom just. 1.
As a fig-tree in good situation and covered with leaves, fruit was reasonably expected.
(1) So with the Jewish people, as taught in the parable of the wicked husbandmen.
(2) The fruitlessness of those whom the tree represented was blameworthy, and
their guilt enhanced by their pretension. (D. C. Hughes, M.A.) He found
nothing but leaves: a fruitless life: — Christ's miracles were unspoken sermons.
Here He sees a fig-tree growing by the wayside, and full of leaves ; He draws near
looking for fruit, but finds none — only leaves. It was not indeed the time for figs,
but neither was it the time for leaves. The tree was making a false pretence. Jesus
cursed the fruitless tree, and it withered away. It was a symbolic act. I. A lesson
FOB the Jews. They were full of the leaves of profession : proud of their religious
ordinances, frequent fasts, long prayers, sacrifices ; but they bore no fruit of holi-
ness, meekness, gentleness, love. Nothing but leaves. II. A lesson fob all,
WARNING UB OF THE DOOM OF A FRUITLESS LiFB. Our blcssings — what havc we
done to deserve them ? We aU remember what we have done for ourselves, how we
have made our way in the world ; but what have we done for God ? Our religious
professions — are they sincere, or are they kept for Sunday use only ? Our talents —
how are we employing them ? Our time, intell ct, bodily strength, wealth, infln-
«noe? (H. J. Wilmot Buxton, M.A.) The time of figs was not y<f;— Trees havf
their seasons at certain times of the year, when they bring forth fruit ; but a Chris-
tuax is for all seasons — like the tree of life, which bringeth forth fruit every monUi
OBAP. X1.J ST. MARK. 451
Christ looked for fruit on the fig-tree when the time of fruit was not jet. Whv ?
Did He not know the season for fruit? or, did He it " altogether for our sakes ? "
For our sakes, no doubt, He did it, to teach us that Christians must always be
fruitful ; the whole time of our life is the season for fruitfulness. {Bp. Brownrig.)
Warnings of Scripture : — Cowper, speaking of his distressing convictions, says,
" One moment I thought myself shut out from mercy by one chapter, and the next
by another. The sword of the Spirit seemed to guard the tree of life ^om my touch,
and to flame against me in every avenue by which I attempted to approach it. I
particularly remember that the parable of the barren fig-tree was to me an incon-
ceivable source of angmsh ; and I applied it to myself, with a strong persuasion in
my mind, that when our Saviour pronounced a curse upon it, He had me in His eye,
and pointed that curse directly at me."
Vers. 15-18. And Jesus went Into the Temple, and began to cast ont them that
told. — TJie Temple cleansed : or^ Christ the punjier of religion : — When we are
told that this took place " in the temple " we are not to suppose that the Holiest of
all is meant, but the Court of the Gentiles. It was this portion of the sacred
enclosure that was converted into a market. It was doubtless a convenient arrange-
ment, and a profitable one ; but it was a bold offence, and drew down the severe
condemnation of Christ. Men may buy and sell in the temple, so to speak, without the
presence of the articles and actual proceedings of commerce. How many of you are
busy, in God's house, with the secularities of every-day life 1 Many do in spirit
what these men did in fact. There is no need to call in the aid of miracle to
account for the consequences of Christ's interference. Holy will is strong, espe-
cially when dealing with sinful consciences which are weak. Wrong felt the
presence of Divine right, and departed. Strange to say, this action of Christ has
been objected to. There are periods when logical arguments and gentle persuasions
are out of place, and reason and righteousness assume their right of direct appeal,
in word and act, to the inmost sense and conscience of men. Christ was thus severe
only with corruption : He had nothing but tenderness for simply evil ; He poured
His hot displeasure only on the hardened wretches that covered their real sin with
seeming sanctity. We see an under meaning in this incident : Christ standing in the
temple of oniversal humanity, and by His word of power redeeming it from the
desecrations of sinful corruption and abuse, rescuing it to the honour of its slighted
Lord. I. The tsmple of God is desecxuted and defiled. 1. Look at the heathen
world ; behold there the strength of the corruption. The religious sentiment strong
amongst them is abused; at least it operates through fear, distrust, and hate, instead
of love, hope, and faith ; at worst it is the tool of craft and lust. Thus the highest
endowments bring about the lowest degradation. 2. Thus has it been with every
mode of revealed religion. Thus it was with Judaism. The life-giving spirit had
perished ; its very form had become corrupt Does Christianity present an excep-
tion to this desecration ? What is the religion of many of you but a buying and
selling in the temple 1 Self-interest has its office in religion, but it is not an
element of religion itself. Indeed, there is no juster distinction between true and
false religion than this : In true religion, self-interest is made the means of what
is spiritual ; in false religion, what is spiritual is made the means of self-interest.
When religion appears as a ladder set up between heaven and earth for all God's
angels to descend and minister to man, but not for aspirations and holy com-
munions to ascend from man to God ; when Christianity is contemplated as a
scheme of political economy, and the Lord of all is regarded chiefly as the most
nseful being in existence, we make our hearts the scenes of degrading traffic. 11.
This desecbation and defilement of the temple of God should create holy and
VEHEMENT INDIGNATION. What is there in the scene we have surveyed to call for
holy wrath? 1. It involves the abuse of what is best and highest — '• My house," <fco.
His Father's house was polluted. The highest view to take of sin is always that it
dishonours God ; the man who dishonours God also dishonours himself. When is God
more dishonoured than when tiie many gifts by which He may be felt, known,
served, frustrate His purposes and misrepresent His being ? As when faculties,
whose sphere is spirit, feed and flatter tiie flesh. 2. It involves the promotion
of the worst and lowest things — " A den of thieves." They who rob God can
scarcely be expected to be very scrupulous in their dealings with men. The best
things when abused become the worse ; there is no devil like a fallen angeL The
reasons are not far to seek. The best things are the strongest. The best thingt
when abased have a natural tendency to exceed in eviL SUll farther, good when
452 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTBAFOR. [chip. xi.
it is abnged hardens the moral feeling. III. Jesus Chbist afpea.bs Bsroue ns am
XHE CLEAMBBB OT THB TEMPLE OF GoD. How does He effect it ? 1. He oomes inta
the temple of Ck)d as ttie living representative of Divine things. He appears as the
Son of God in His "Father's house." 2. He makes an effective appeal to men on
the true character and design of Divine things — " Is it not written, My house shall
be called," &o. He draws attention to the nature and object of the sacred place.
He forbids what is auxiliary to the condemned abuse. He " would not suffer that
any man should carry any ressel through the temple." The purification of humanity
is slow, but sure. [A. J. Morris,) Pickpockets in the synagogue : — Our Paris
correspondent telegraphs : — Complaints having been made to the police that the
synagogue of the Eue de la Yictoire had become a house of call for pickpockets,
several detectives were set there on watch, who last Saturday caught a man in the
act of stealing a purse from one of the congregation. Henceforth a couple of
inspectors will be on duty during the service, and it is to be hoped will render
personal property secure in the synagogue. The name of the man arrested is Jule»
Henrilien. He refuses to name his accomplices. {Daily News.) The expulsion
of the money changers from the temple : — It would appear from a comparison of the
different evangelists, that there were two occasions upon which Christ displayed
His indignation at the traffic by which His Father's house was defiled. Those who
yielded to the supernatural power with which our Lord acted, returned to their
unlawful practices when that power was withdrawn. It was one thing to drive the
wicked from the temple, but quite another to drive wickedness from their heart.
This was a miracle upon mind. I. The place whbbb the market was held. It
was not the temple properly so called ; the Jews were scrupulous about their temple.
"Where, then, was the market ? We will endeavour to explain this to you. In the
time of our Saviour, the temple, properly so called, had three courts, each sur-
rounding one another. These courts, with the building they encompassed, made up
what was known under the general name of the temple. In the first of these cource
stood the altar of burnt-offering, and to this came none but the priests and Levites.
The second, surrounding that of the priests, was the great hall which, though
the Jews assembled to worship, was also open to those proselytes who had been
circumcised, and had thus taken upon themselves the whole ritual of Moses. But the
outer court of the three was called the court of the Gentiles, and was appropriated
to such proselytes as had renounced idolatry, but who, not having been circumcised,
were still accounted unclean by the Jews. The two first of these courts were
accounted holy, but no sanctity appears to have been attached to the third ; it was
considered a part of the temple, but had no share in that sacredness which belonged
to all the rest. And in this outer court — the court of the Gentiles— it was, that the
sheep, and oxen, and doves were sold, and the money changers had their tables.
As the Jews did not regard this court as possessing any legal sanctity, they per-
mitted to be used as a market the temple of those who came thither to worship. 11
you have followed me in this there is good reason for supposing that it was on
purpose to show their contempt for the Gentiles, that the Jews allowed the traffic
which Christ interrupted. When Christ entered the court of the Gentiles, and
found in place of the solemnity which should have pervaded a scene dedicated to
worship, all the noise and tumult of a market. He had before Him the most striking
exhibition of that fatal resolve on the part of His countrymen, and which His
apostles strove in vain to counteract — the resolve of considering themselves as
God's peculiar people, to the exclusion of all besides ; and the refusing to unite
themselves with converts from heathenism in the formation of one visible Church.
Was not this, then, an occasion upon which to exercise the prophetic ofiiice ? Was
there not here an opportunity of inculcating a truth which, however unpalatable to
the Jews, required, of all others, to be set forth with clearness, and maintained
with constancy — the truth, that though God for a time had seemed neglectful of the
great body of men, and bestowed all His carefulness upon a solitary tribe ; yet were
the Gentiles watched over by Him in their long aUenation, and about to be gathered
within the borders of His Church. And this truth we suppose it to have been which
Christ set Himself to teach by the significant act of driving from the court of tht
Gentiles the merchants with their merchandise. He declared, as emphatically aa
He could have done in words, that the place where the strangers worshipped was to
be accounted as sacred as that in which the Israelites assembled, and that what
would have been held as a profanation of the one, was to be held a profanation <A
the other. By thus vindicating the sanctity of the spot appropriated to the Gtontilee,
M worthy of m much veneration as that appropriated to the Jews, whea
OHAP. n.] ST. MARK, 458
He expelled the merohants and money changers, He went far towards pnt-
ting Jew and Oentile on the same level, and announcing the abolition of cere-
monial distinctions. The Jews had allowed the desecration of the court of the
Gentiles, because they regarded the Gentiles as immeasurably inferior to themseWes,
and defiled through the want of circumcision ; and, therefore, unable to offer to
God any acceptable worship. What, then, was meant by the resistance, on Christ's
part, to this desecration of the court of the Gentiles, except that the Jews had fallen
into the grossest of errors, in so supposing that the Gentile had been overlooked
by God, or excluded from His mercies ? The ground on which he stood to pray was
as hallowed as that on which the sanctuary rose, and, therefore, he might himself
be as much approved and accepted as any one of that family which seemed for
centuries to engross the notice of heaven. And when this has been determined, it
is scarcely possible but to feel that the prophecy may glance on to future occur-
rences. We need not point out to you how little progress has yet been made,
notwithstanding the struggles and the advancings of Christianity, towards the
announced consummation that God's " house shall be a house of prayer for all
people." " All people " have not yet flocked to its courts ; but, on the contrary,
the great mass of the human population bow down in the temple of idols. True,
indeed, that the doors of the sanctuary have been thrown open, and the men of
every land been invited to enter ; but the prophecies in question speak of more than
a universal offer of admission ; they speak of what shall yet take place — the general
acceptance of the offer ; the pressing of all nations into the Church of the Kedeemer.
Consider, then, whether the expulsion of the buyers and sellers, as figuring the
first accomplishment of the prophecy, when the Gentiles were admitted into the
visible Church, may not also be significative of what shall occur at the close of the
dispensation when Christianity shall be diffused throughout the earth. We have
succeeded to the place of the Jews ; for Christians are now the peculiar people of
God, and what the (Gentiles were to the Jews, that are the heathen to us — a race
divided from us by external privileges, and not admitted into the same covenant
with the Almighty. And what is it that Christian nations have done and are
doing for the heathen ? In our intercourse with lands where idolatry and super-
stition still hold the ascendency, has it been our main endeavour to introduce the
pure gospel of Christ ? or have we striven, where there was no room for direct
assault upon the fabric of error, to exhibit Christianity in its purity,
and beauty, and majesty ? Alas, might it not be said, we have planted
our markets rather than our churches in the court of the Gentiles ;
that we have crowded that court with our merchandise, but taken little
pains to gain room within its area for the solemnities of truth ; that even
when the voice of the preacher has been heard, it has been overborne by the din
of conunerce, or contradicted by the lives of those professing Christianity?
Indeed, we much think that putting, as we are bound to do, the Christian into the
place of the Jew, there is little or no difference between the present aspect of the
court of the Gentiles, and that which it wore when Christ was on earth — the same,
at least, in a great degree ; for what portion do our efforts bear either to our ability
or the urgency of the case ? The same inattention to those not bom to our privi-
leges ; the same persecution ; the same neglect or disregard of the interests of
religion ; the same superciUous notion of superiority in the midst of the non-
improvement of our many advantages ; and if Christ were now to return to the
earth, as we believe He shall at the close of the dispensation, what measure conld
Christendom expect at His hands but that awarded to the Jews f It is in exact
accordance with those delineations of Scripture which relate to the second coming
of Christ, that we should consider the expulsion of the trafl&ckers from the temple
figurative of what will be done with the great mass of nominal Christians. We
could almost think that in this, and other respects, the transaction represented how
Christ would proceed in cleansing the temple of the heart. He comes into the
courts of this temple — the heart of any amongst ourselves whom He desires to con-
secrate to Himself ; and He finds it occupied by worldly things — carnal passions,
ambitious projects, the affections all fastening on the creature, to the exdusion d
the Creator. And there must be an expulsion from the temple of whatsoever
defiles it, that it may indeed become a sanctuary fit for the indwelling of the Lord
of the whole earth. But the purifying process is gradual. Nothing unclean can be
suffered to remain ; but it is not all at once that what pollutes is removed. The
first assault, as it were, is on the oxen, and the sheep, and the tables of the money
changsn, as the more prominent of the occasions and causes of profanation.
IM THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap. xx.
And with these He is vehement »nd forcible. Sensuality, covetousness, pride—
these are for the scourge and the indignant expostulation ; and no qaarter can be
allowed, no, not for an instant. But it is not only the oxen, and the sheep, and the
tables of the money changers, which desecrate the temple of the heart. There are
the doves — the gentler and Idndlier affectionB of onr nature ; and these — even these —
contaminate when God is not their first object, but their fervonr and their freshness
given to the creatare. Bat it is in gentleness, rather than in harshness, that the Lord of
the temple proceeds with us in effecting this part of the purification. It is not with
the doves, as with the sheep, and the oxen, and the tables of the money-ehangen —
the scourging and the overthrowing, but rather by the mild expostulation — ♦•Take
these things hence," that He attempts the removal of what He cannot suffer to
remain. Harshness might injure or destroy the affections themselves, just as the
driving out the doves would have caused their being lost ; but by continually setting
before us the goodness of God, whether as manifested in creation or redemption,
by teaching us how much more precious becomes every object of love when we love
it not so much for its own sake as for the sake of the Giver — this cleanses the
heart, and gradually inclines us to the substituting for affections chained to the
finite, affections centeriBg on the infinite ; and thus persuades us to take away the
dove on whose plumage is the dust of the earth, but only that its place may be
occupied by one such as the Psalmist describes — " whose wings are covered with
silver, and her feathers with yellow gold." The cleansing of the heart is not
complete till God is supreme in its affections, It is not enough to mortify corrupt
passions, and resist imperious lusts : this is but expelling the sheep and the oxen.
We must give God the heart, delighting in Him as the " chief good ; " ay, my
brethren, we must act on the consciousness, and God grant that we all may I — we must
act on the consciousness that the gentle dove may profane God's house, as well
as the flocks whose pastures are of the earth ; and that if the one — the sheep and
the oxen — must be altogether ejected, the other — the dove — must be trained to
the soaring upwards, and bathing in the free li^^ht of heaven. (H. Melvill, B.D.)
Profanation of holy places : — Who wiU venture to deny the exceeding enormity of
that offence which a prince deems it right to punish with his own hand ? God
drove our guilty first parents from the garden ; but it was done by the intervention
of an angel. He chased the Canaanites from their land ; but He did it by an
army of hornets. By the hand of an angel He struck down the army of the
Assyrians, and brought low the pride of Herod when he assumed Divine honour
to himself. Only in the case of those who profane sacred places do I see Christ —
Him, that is, who on all other occasions was so mild and gentle— coming forth and
taking the rod in His own hand. What a monstrous, what an intolerable crime must
this be— the profanation of holy places 1 (Segneri.) Desecration of t?ie temple :^
The circumstances which led to the profanation were these. The Jews who came up to
the Feasts from a distance would obviously find it more convenient to purchase their
sacrificial victims on the spot, and cattle-markets were held in the city ; but in lapse
of time, when the authorities of the temple began to grow mercenary, they determined
to have such a large source of profit in their own hands. The Court of the Gentiles
was always held in Uttle respect by the Jews, and it seemed to them quite justifiable
to utilize it for their purpose. For about twenty days before the Feast the corridors
and arcades and outer waUs of the sacred enclosure were commonly occupied by
eattle-pens ; and the solemn stillness of the precincts was broken by the unseemly
confusion of the lowing of herds, and the wrangling of drovers and pilgrims bar.
gaining for their price. Besides these there were the money-changers. After the
captivity the Jews of the dispersion, when they came up to the Feasts, in common
with those who dwelt in Palestine, made each their offering for the temple service.
There was only one coin in which this offering might be paid into the treasury —
the half-shekel piece. It was intended as a safeguard to prevent the Korban being
desecrated by the introduction of pieces of money upon which heathen emblems
were stamped. Those pilgrims, therefore, who came from countries where non.
Jewish money was current, as Babylon, Alexandria, Greece, or Bome, were com-
pelled to procure the half-shekel by exchange. It was not only a fruitful source of
gain to the bankers, who demanded an exorbitant discount ; their extortion kindled
tiie indignation of our Lord, and His ears were pained by the clinking of money
and weights and balances, and the strife of words and angry recriminations,
mingling with the prayers and praises of the sanctuary. But this was not alL
Btcu the offerings of poor women, and others, whose very poverty might have
•Kcmpted them from fraudulent imposition, were included in the market. The
aoAt. zx.] ST, MARK. 455
whole scene was suoh as would raise the righteous anger of any one who was
jealous for the honour of God's house. It was almost a worse profanation than
that which made our cathedrals and churches scenes of riot and desecration in the
times of Edward VI., when St. Paul's was turned into a stock exchange for mer-
chants, and its aisles were used as common thoroughfares for both man and beast.
(H. M. Luckock, D.D.) Gleaming of the Temple ;— I. God has many temples ;
(1) Temple of Israel; (2) Temple of nature; (3) Christian church; (4) Saved
souls. II. Wk ABE TOO BEADY TO DEFILE THEM. We mix self-interest with religion,
or trade with religion, for our own profit. 1. Preaching in order to get money.
2. Sale of livings. 3. Going to certain churches because it may be good for
business. III. However the Saviour may seem to ignore such pollution, a time will
come when He will besent and purge it away. {R. Glover.) Thieves in the
Temple : — Eeligion must not be exploited for money. The church is not a shop.
The kind of spiritual outrage attacked by Christ is one that repeats itself. There
was nothing wrong in selling outside the temple, or any other church, things which
were necessary for the temple service. We sell hymn-books in our vestries ; abroad
they sell candles and breviaries and crosses at the doors of the cathedrals. It is a
question of degree and intention. But I have seen, at the time of a church cele-
bration abroad, the whole street blocked with booths. Noisy sellers of sweetmeats,
toys, and provisions, pushing their bargains, and touting even in the church porch,
and on the threshold of the sanctuary. There was the den of thieves. Your
miracle-mongers, who set up their winking statues and healing-saints' bones with
the one view of fleecing the people — are thieves. Your idle clergy, especially
certain Roman cathedral clergy, who fatten on the sins of the faithful, never preach,
seldom hear confessions, never visit the sick; simply do nothing but mumble
mass on samts' days — they are thieves. Your Enghsh clergy, who are hale and
hearty non-residents on £500 a year, and put in a man at £80 to look after their
parishes — are thieves. Wherever or whenever God's church and service is made
the pretext; first and foremost for getting money, then and there the spiritual out-
rage chastised by Christ with whip and expulsion is committed afresh : the house of
prayer has been made a den of thieves ; and at such an hour as they wot not of,
the Lord will suddenly come to His temple and purify it. (H. R. Haweis, M.A.)
Right looking upon wrong : — As it is said that ferocious animals are disarmed by
the eye of man if he but steadily look at them, so it is when right looks upon wrong.
Besist the devil and he will flee from you ; ofter him a bold front and he nma
away. (Dr. BushnelL),
Ver. 22. Have faith in God. — Have faith in Ood: — I. What paith is. 1. Taking
God at His word, about things unknown (Heb. xi. 7), unlikely (Heb. xi. 17-19),
untried (Heb. xi. 28). 2. Trusting Jesus at His invitation. Trust your soul
to His care ; your sins to His cleansing ; your life to His keeping. H. Whbncb
FAITH COMES. 1. From God's grace (Eph. ii. 8 ; Bom. xii. 3). 2. From God's
Word (Bom. x. 17 ; 2 Tim. iii. 15). 3. From God's working (1 John v. 1 ; Col. it 12).
4. Out of the heart (Rom. x. 10). III. How faith wobks. 1. It overcomes the
world (1 John v. 4). 2. It purifies tha heart (Acts xv. 8, 9). 3. It works by love
(Gal. V. 6). (J. Richardson, M.A.) Have faith in God— Ood will not desert those
who trust in Him : — Many years ago, when in my country charge, I returned one
afternoon from a funeral, fatigued with the day's work. After a long ride, I had
accompanied the mourners to the churchyard. As I neared my stable-door, I felt a
strange prompting to visit a poor widow who, with her invalid daughter, lived in a
lonely cottage in an outlying part of the parish. My natural reluctance to make
another visit was overcome by a feeling which I could not resist, and I tamed my
horse's head towards the cottage. I was thinking only of the widow's spiritual
needs ; but, when I reached her little house, I was struck with its look of unwonted
bareness and poverty. After putting a little money into her hand, I began to
inquire into their circumstances, and found that their supplies had been utterly
exhausted since the night before. I asked them what they had done. " I just
spread it out before the Lord I " «• Did you tell your case to any friend ? " •• Oh
no, sir ; nobody knows but Himself and me. I knew He wouldn't forget, though I
didn't know how He would help me, till I saw you coming riding over the hill, and
then I said, " There's the Lord's answer." Many a time has the recollection of
this incident encouraged me to trust in the loving care of my heavenly Father.
{G, Macdonald, D.D.) One winter morning, a poor little orphan boy of six or
eight years begged a lady to allow him to clean away the snow from her door. ** Do
456 TEE BIBLICAL ILLU8TEAT0B, [obat. zl
yon get much to do, xuy little boy ? " said the lady. " Sometimes I do,** he repliedt
" but often I get very little. " " And are you never afraid that you will not get enough
to live on? " The child looked perplexed a moment, and then answered, "Don't
you think God will take care of a boy if he puts his trust in Him, and does the best
he can t " Have faith in God: — Gotthold saw several sailors step into a boat to
cross a river. Two took the oars, and, as usual, turned their backs upon the shore
to which they intended to sail. A third stood and kept his face unaverted on the
place where they wished to land, and which they very speedily reached. *• See
here," he said, to those about him, ** what may well remind us of our condition.
Life is a mighty river, rapidly flowing into the ocean of eternity, and returning no
more. On this river we are all afloat in the bark of our vocation, which we must
urge forward with the oars of industry and toil. Like these sailors, therefore, we
ought to turn our back upon the future, put our confidence in God, who stands at
the helm, and by His mighty power steers the vessel to where happiness and salva-
tion await us, and diligently labour, unconcerned about anything else. "We would
smile, were these men to turn round and pretend that they could not row blindfold,
but must needs see the place to which their course was directed ; and it is no less
foolish in us to insist on apprehending, with our anxieties and thoughts, all things,
whether future or at hand. Let it be our part to ply the oar and toil and pray ;
but let us leave it to God to steer and bless and govern. 0 my God, be with me
in my little bark, and bless it according to Thy good pleasure 1 I will turn my face
to Thee, and, as Thou sbalt enable me, I will diligently and faithfully labour ; for
all else Thou wilt provide." The orphan's prayer : — A little child, whose father
and mother had died, was taken into another family. The flrst night she asked if
she might pray, as she used to do. They said, "Oh, yes." So she knelt down,
and prayed as her mother had taught her ; and when that was ended, she added a
little prayer of her own : ♦' 0 God, make these people as kind to me as father and
mother were." Then she paused, and looked up, as if expecting an answer, and
then added, " Of course you will." How sweetly simple was that little one's faith;
she expected God to " do " ; and, of course, she got her request. Have faith in
Qod — Never give up in despair: — An industrious tradesman had fallen on bad times;
his business would not prosper, and he lost heart. His wife, however, kept cheerful;
she went on praying, and tried to hearten up her husband. But it was no use ; he
kept on saying there was no hope for him, and he might as well go out of life, for
there was notlung good to be looked for. One morning the cheery wife came down
with a face as sad as her Lusband's. " What's the matter ? " said he. ** Oh," she
replied, with a shudder, "I've had such a dreadful dream. I dreamt God was
dead, and all the angels were going to His funeral I " " What nonsense 1 " said her
husband. " How can you be so silly ? Don't you know God can't die ? " She
thought a moment, and then brightened up. '* That's true," she answered. " But,
oh, husband I if He can't die, He can't change, either. He has taken care of as aU
our lives : why should we begin to think He has forgotten us now f It'll only be a
passing cloud, may be, that's hiding the sun, just to try us. Let us trust Him
through it all." " You're right, wife," said the man. " Seems to me I've believed
in God without trusting Him. Let us ask Him to forgive me this sin of mistrust.
May be my ill-luck has been a punishment for that same, sent to open my eyes,**
However that may have been, the tide did turn, and neither man nor wife ever
mistrusted God again. Have faith in Qod — Wonder -working faith : — It is not
only to faith, as a general spiritual force of boundless potency and value, that onx
Lord here directs our thoughts ; but also, and more particularly, to the faith which
sees what things are useless and ready to die, and puts them out of the way ; the
faith which confronts obstacles as big as solid mountains, and yet is sure that it
cau remove or surmount them ; the faith which faints at no difficulty, no apparent
impossibility even, but attacks even the greatest of them with courage and good
hope. This is the faith to which Christ here invites us — the faith which He Him-
self exercised, not only when He banned the fig-tree, but also when He set Himself
to save and raise the world against its will, and had therefore to face a world in
arms. It is the faith which believes truth to be stronger than error, righteousness
than unrighteousness, good than evil, even though all the world should have espoused
the losing cause. It is the faith which believes not only that spiritual energies
are stronger than material fo ces, but also that the good spiritual foroes of the
universe are stronger than its evil forces, and are sure to overcome them in the
end Nothing seems more doubtful to us at times than the victory of faith over
the world ; yet nothing is more certain. The whole history of the world is on«
<imAP. n.] ST. MARK. 457
long continnous teitimony to the fact, that it is by faith in great prinoiples that
men are really swayed. What is the history of every great movement by which
the world, or any portion of it, has been raised, purified, reformed, and renewed,
but just this : Faith in some great truth or principle — faith in justice, faith in
freedom, faith in wise laws and deep convictions — has grown to enthusiasm in a
few hearts ; and in the power of this faith they have spoken and toiled, facing and
gradually beating down all ojDposition, detecting signs of decay in the most vene-
rable and solidly established institutions, customs, statutes, and dooming them to
perish ; encountering whole mountains of obstacle and difficulty, yet taking them
up and at last casting them into the sea. {S. Cox^ D.D.) Faith in God : —
1. There is Christ's command itself. 2. God's own character demands this faith.
3. God's gifts claim and warrant faith. 4. The way in which we specially honour
Him is by having faith in Him. 6. Unbelief profits nothing. 6. Faith has dono
wonders in time past, and it can do wonders still. {H. Bonar^ D.D.)
Ver. 23. That whosoever shall say unto this mountalii. Be thou removed—
This mountain : — ♦ ' This mountain," which Christ promised His disciples power to
remove, and which in after years they did most effectually remove, was the holy
mount on which the Hebrew temple once stood, but which is now crowned with
churches and a mosque. He saw that even the Jewish religion was waxing old and
ready to vanish away. And yet how impossible it seemed that they, a few simple
and unlettered men, with no force but their faith in Him, should achieve this
mighty task. The whole world, heathen and Hebrew, was against them : the un-
broken power of Kome, the unsurpassed wisdom of the Greeks, the ancient
philosophies and hereditary customs of the unchanging East, the fierce barbarism
of the North, the jealous and tenacious bigotry of the Jews ; the lusts of the flesh
and of the mind, the pride and splendour of life ; all to which men leaned with all
the weight of habit, tradition, and inclination. And yet, in a few years, all these
mighty forces went down before the power of faith ; and, where they still survive,
their doom is written on them in characters which it takes no prophet to read. All
this the disciples had to believe before, as yet, any jot of it had come to pass.
Their faith in God, and in the redeeming purpose of His love, was to be their sole
warrant and evidence that the temple, with all which it symboUzed, was to pass
away; that "this mountain," with all its pile of sacred fabrics, all its weight of
sacred memories, was to be cast into the sea ; and that the world, banded in an
apparently impregnable unity against them, was nevertheless to be overcome. And
in this faith they both destroyed the temple and conquered the world. (5. Cox,
D.D.) This mountain — Difficulties in the Christianas path : — Our Lord here pre-
supposes that believers will be called by God to the undertaking and doing of great
and difficult works, such as are above and beyond the power of nature, and as hard
and difficult to flesh and blood as the removing of a mountain. Such great and
difficult works may a Christian be called by God to perform : yea, every Christian
is actually called by God to the performance of such hard and difficult works, so
soon as he is called to believe and to be a Christian— «.^., a Christian is called to
deny himself, and to take up his cross and follow Christ : which are most difficult
works, impossible to nature and contrary to it. A Christian is also called to the
practice of repentance, i.e., to die unto sin, to mortify his sinful lusts, &c., a most
hard, difficult, and painful work. Again, we are called to obey (Jod in all things
which He requires : in all parts of His will, though never so hard and contrary to
our nature. We are called to despise the world, and to use it as if we used it not ;
yea, to be crucified and dead to it ; and to forsake all we have for Christ and the
gospel. All these are most hard and difficult duties, which every Christian and
true believer is called to undertake and perform ; and he must indeed perform
ihem, in some measure at least ; otherwise, he cannot be a good Christian. If we
wish to be good Christians indeed, we must not promise ourselves a life of ease ;
we must think seriously and often what we are called to ; and we must daily pray
and labour for supernatural strength and grace. Not of ourselves can we accom-
plish this arduous task ; but God, who calls us to it, will enable us to perform it,
if we seek from Him that which we have not in ourselves. (O. Petter.) Mountain
removed .-—When William Carey went to India, many a wise man would have said
to him, ♦' You may just as well walk up to the Himalaya mountains, and order
them to be removed and cast into the sea." I would have said, '* That is perfectly
trcM ; this Hinduism is as vast and as soUd as those mountains ; but we have faith
—not much, yet we have faith aa a grain of mustard seed " ; and William Care/
458 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap.
said, " I will go np to the mountain." Lonely and weak he walked up towardB the
mountain, which in the eye of man seemed verily one of the summits of human
1 hings, far above all power to touch or shake it ; and with his own feeble voice he
began saying, "Be thou removed ! be thou removed! " And the world looked on
and laughed. A celebrated clergyman, looking down from his high place in the
Edinburgh Review, was much amused with the spectacle of that poor man down
in Bengal, thinking in his simple heart that he was going to disturb Hinduism ;
and from his high place he cast down a scalding word, which he meant to fall just
as of old boiling lead used to fall upon a poor man from the height of a tower. He
called him a " consecrated cobbler.'* All the wise world laughed, and said he was
treated as he ought to be treated. However, he went on saying to the mountain,
" Be thou removed 1 be thou removed ! " And one joined him, and another janed
]nm; the voice grew stronger; it was repeated in more languages than one. *' Be
thou removed, and be thou cast into the depths of the sea ! " and now there is a large
oompany who are uttering that one word, " Be thou removed I " I ask the living
ropresentativesof the very men who first smiled at this folly, "What say ye now? "
"Well," they answer, " you have not got into the sea yet." That is true ; but do
you pay that the mountain during the last forty years has not moved ? No man can
say that it is in the same position as it was when William Carey first went up to it.
It is moving fast ; and I call upon you to swell that voice, the voice of God's
Church, which seems to say, " Be thou removed, be thou removed, and be thou cast
into the depths of the sea 1 " Cast into those depths it will be ; and a day will come
when the nations of a regenerated East will write in letters of gold upon the first
pages of their Christian history the name of the *' consecrated cobbler." {William
Arthur.)
Ver. 24. What things soever ye desire when ye v^j.— Combined action of
prayer and faith : — The apostles, when the Lord was taken away from them, would
have to commend His doctrine to the world by miracles. To this end it was need-
ful that their faith in God, as the Bestower of all power to do such things, should
be raised. For the real doer of every miracle or sign was God, and God only.
When the apostles healed suddenly any sick person, or cast out any evil spirit, it
was by the combined exercise of prayer and faith. They secretly or openly called
upon God, and they implicitly believed that He would accompany their word with
His power. Now, being men totally ignorant of science, and so unable to form a
conception of the kind or amount of power put forth in the performance of any
miracle, they would naturally look upon it as a matter of size, or weight, or exten-
sion. They would, as a matter of course, look upon the removal of the Mount of
Olives as a far greater thing, demanding far greater power, than the sudden drying-
up of the life-juices of a single fig-tree ; but it may not really be greater by any
means. On the contrary, the sudden touching and arresting the springs of life in
the living thing may require far more knowledge of the greatest secret of all — the
secret of life, and far more real power in applying that knowledge, than the removal
of the most stupendous mass of dead matter. Now the apostles, though they
could not understand this, must yet act as if it were so. They must not judge by
the sight of their eyes of the diflSculty or easiness of anything which they felt
moved by the Spirit to perform. They must think of nothing but the almighty
power of God, and His pledge to accompany their prayers or words with that
power. {M. F. Sadler, M.A.) The miracle of faith .-—True prayer is sure power.
L Look at the text to see the essential qualities necessaby to any orsat
SUCCESS IN PBAYEB. There must be— 1. Definite things prayed for. No rambling,
or drawing the bow at a venture. Use no mock-modesty with God. Be simple and
direct in your pleadings. Speak plainly, and make a straight aim at the object ol
your supplications. 2. Earnest desure. Plead as for your life. There was a beau-
tiful illustration of true prayer addressed to man in the conduct of two noble ladies,
whose husbands were condemned to die and were about to be executed, when they
came before George I. and supplicated for their pardon. The king rudely and
cruelly repulsed them. But they pleaded again and again ; and could not be got to
rise from their knees ; and they had actually to be dragged out of court, for they
refused to leave till their petition was granted. That is the way we must pray to
God. We must have such a desire for the thing we want that we will not rise until
we have it, — but in submission to His Divine will, nevertheless. 3. F*^*^ J,"
questioning whether God can or will grant the prayer. The prayers of God t
people are but God's promises breathed out of living hearts ; and those promisei
SHIP, n.] 8T. MARK. 45f
are the decrees only pat into another fonn and fashion. When you can plead His
promise, then your will is His will. 4. A realizing expectation. We should be able
to count over the mercies before we have got them, believing that they are on the
road. II. Look about tou, and judge by thb tenor of the text. 1. Public
meetings for prayer. How often, at these meetings, does this advice of an old
preacher need to be remembered : «• The Lord will not hear thee because of the
arithmetic of thy prayers ; He does not count their numbers : nor because of their
rhetoric ; He does not aare for the eloquent language in which they are couched :
nor for their geometry ; He does not compute them by their length or their
breadth : nor yet will He regard thee because of the music of thy prayers ; He
cares not for sweet voices and harmonious periods. Neither will He look at thee
because of the logic of thy prayers— because they are well arranged and excellently
comparted. But He will hear thee, and He will measure the amount of the blessing
He will give thee, according to the divinity of thy prayers. If thou canst plead the
person of Christ, and if the Holy Ghost inspire thee with zeal and earnestness, the
blessings thou askest will surely come to thee." 2. Your private intercessions.
There is no place that some of us need to be so ashamed to look at as our closet
door. Shame on our hurried devotions, our lip services, our distrust. See to it that
an amendment be made, and God make you more mighty and more successful in
your prayers than heretofore. IH. Look above, and you will see enough to
MAKE TOU— 1. Weep. God has given us a mighty weapon, and we have let it rust.
If the universe were as still as we are where should we be? God gives light to the
sun, and he shines with it. To the winds He gives force, and they blow. To the
air He gives life, and it moves, and men breathe thereof. But to His people He has
given a gift that is better far than force, or life, or light, and yet they neglect and
despise it 1 Constantino, when he saw that on the coins of the other emperors their
images were in an erect position, triumphing, ordered that his image should be
struck kneeling, for, said he, " This is the way in which I have triumphed." The
reason why we have been so often defeated, and why our banners trail in the dust,
is because we have not prayed. 2. Rejoice. For, though you have sinned against
God, He loves you still. You may not as yet have gone to the fountain, but it
still flows as freely as ever. 3. Amend your prayers from this time forth. Look on
prayer no longer as a romantic fiction or an arduous duty, but as a true power and
a real pleasure. When philosophers discover some latent power they delight to put
it in action. Test the bounty of the Eternal. Take to Him all your petitions and
wants, and see if He does not honour yoo. Try whether, if you believe Him, He
will not fulfil His promise, and richly bless you with the anointing oil of Hia
Spirit, by which you will be strong in prayer. (C7. H. Spurgeon.) Lessons on
prayer :— L God hears prayers of any magnitude ; much wrong might have been
prevented or cured, much good done, if only we had prayed. II. Success for prayer
depends on goodness ; without the soul-health of trust and love we cannot pray.
in. Let our unanswered prayers be a mirror in which we see our faults. {R. Olover.)
If our doubts do not prevail so far as to make ns leave off praying, our prayers wiil
prevail so far as to make us leave off doubting. {H. Hiekman.) Prayer a
key .-—Prayer is a key which, being turned by the hand of faith, unlocks God'a
treasures. {Anon.) The sum and substance of every prayer should be the unll of
Ood .-—The exercise of prayer can only be a blessing to our souls when our own
will is entirely merged in the will of our heavenly Father. If we only knew the
truth, we should find that prayer is more connected with the discipline of the will
than we generally imagine. Our will is not naturally in harmony with God's. The
carrying out of our own will, when bent on some desired object, is what invariably
eharacterises us. It becomes habitual to us. We carry it, more or less, as a habit
into the presence of God. It must not be, however. Wilfulness is not a oharao-
teristio of one of God's children. He is but a child, and he must know it. The
Father's will is best; the child must know no will but His. It must be crossed,
however painful it may be. To subdue that will, to blend it with His, and to mak«
ns perfectly happy under the conviction that our own is not to be carried out, is th«
only tme explanation of many an unanswered prayer, many a bitter cup still un-
removed, and many a thorn still left rankling in the flesh. But when the heart
has been brought into that state when it can, with happy, confiding trast, look up
and say, " Father, not my will, but Thine, be done I " then will relief come. The
thorn, indeed, may not be extracted, the cup may not be removed, but there will
appear the itrengtiiemng angel from heaven enabling ns to bear it. (F. Whitfield,)
Scope and liwUt of prayer :— In other places the promise is considerably qualified.
460 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [ohap. xx.
We shall receive, not whatever we ask, but the Holy Spirit, «.«., we are to spread
out our case, our needs, our desires, before God, for that is the way to come into
close relations with Him ; He will do the rest. The answer shall be the ^ft we ask
for, and our demand sball be the needful link in the chain of causes which brings
us and our heart's desire together ; in other words, the answer shall be the " Holy
Spirit," who shall mould our wills into accord and illuminated acquiescence with
His good wiU. In any case, prayer is seen to be the ways and means of bringing
us into communication with One who is above all, and over all, and through all.
Direct demands are the most obvious, simple, childlike forms of prayer ; but the
spiritual value of prayer is, after all, not this — to get exactly what we want, when
we want it, like the magic ring in the fairy tale ; but this — to bring the human
into close relation with the Divine. {H. R. Haweis^ M.A.) ^ The foundation of
faithful prayer : — I remember asking an old friend of mine, who is now between
seventy and eighty years of age, and who, I think, as far as I have been permitted
to know Christian men, is mightier with God than almost any man I have met,
♦* Do tell me the secret of your success in prayer." He said, " I will tell you what
it is. I say to myself, Is that wbich I am asking for promised? Is it according
to the mind of God ? If it is, I plant my foot upon it as upon a firm rock, and I
never allow myself to doubt that my Father will give me according to my petition."
{Bp. Bickersteth,) The links that unite earth and heaven: — Give me these links —
(1) sense of need ; (2) desire to get ; (3) belief that, though He withhold for a while,
He loves to be asked ; (4) belief that asking will obtain — give me these links, and
the chain will reach from earth to heaven, bringing all heaven down to me, or
bearing me up into heaven. {T. Guthrie y D.D.) Faith and Tprayer : — ^Faith is to
prayer as the feather is to the arrow ; faith feathers the arrow of prayer, and makes
it fly swifter and pierce the throne of grace. Prayer that is faithless is fruitless.
(T. Watson.) Earnestness in prayer: — The arrow that is shot from a loose cord
drops powerless to the ground, but from the tightly-drawn bowstring it springs for-
ward, soars upward, and reaches the object to which it is directed. So it is not the
loose utterance of attempted prayer that is effectual, but the strong earnestness of
the heart sending its pointed petition to heaven, that reaches the Divine ear and
obtains the desired blessing. {Bowden.) Perseverance in prayer: — I saw the
other day a man attempting to split a rock with a sledge-hammer. Down oama
the sledge upon the stone as if it would crush it, but it merely rebounded, leaving
the rock as sound as before. Again the ponderous hammer was swung, and again
it came down, but with the same result. Nothing was acoompUshed. The rock
was still without a crack. I might have asked (as so many are disposed to ask
concerning prayer) what good could result from suoh a waste of time and strength.
But that man had faith. He believed in the power of that sledge. He believed
that repeated blows had a tendency to split that rock. And so he kept at it. Blow
after blow came down ; all apparently in vain. But still he kept on without a
thought of discouragement. He believed that a vigorously. swung sledge " has great
power." And at last came one more blow and the work was done. That is the way
in which we ought to use prayer. God has told us that " the earnest prayer of
the righteous man has great power." We ought to believe it, just as that man
believed that his sledge had power. And believing it, we ought to use prayer for
the attainment of spiritual results with just such confidence of success as that man
used Ills sledge. We may not secure our answer at once. That rock was not spUt
at the first blow, or the second. But that man believed that if he continued hia
blows, he was more likely to succeed every blow he struck. So we are to beheyo
that there is a spiritual power in prayer, just as there was a physical power in
that sledge ; and that, the more perseveringly and earnestly we use it, the more
certain are we to accomplish something by it. Ye shall have them : Divine answers
to prayer: — Is the direct Divine answer to praver a reality? Gall the witnesses
and let them testify. Let the martyrs of the early church answer, from their exile,
from the prisons where they were chained, from the amphitheatre whose sanda
were crimsoned with their blood, from the chariots of flame in which they swept
up to glory. Let the Covenauters, kneeling on the heather, or hiding in the grey
fastnesses of the crags ; let the Pilgrims, with their faces wet with the cold, salt
spray, and the gloom of the wilderness overshadowing them ; let Christian heroes
everywhere — missionaries passing through belts of pestilence, women in army
hospitals, philanthropists in jails and lazar-houses — ^let all these testify whether
prayer has anything more than a ** reflex influence." Let thousands of death-beds
answer. Let the myriad homes of sorrow, wrapped in darkness that may be felt.
XI.) ST. MARK. 461
answer. Let every man or woman who has ever really prayed, answer. From each
and all comes one and the same testimony : " The Lord is nigh unto all that call
upon Him, nnto all that call upon Him in truth," {Ed. S. Attwood.) Expecting
answer to prayer: — A few years ago there was a time of much dr^ess in a certain
part of England. No rain had fallen for several weeks, and it seemed as if the
crops would all perish for want of moisture. A few pious farmers who beUeved in
the power of prayer asked their minister to make a special supplication on a par-
ticular Sunday for the needed blessing of rain. The day came, and was as bright
and cloudless as those which had preceded it. Among the congregation the minister
noticed a little Sunday-scholar, who carried a large old-fashioned umbrella. " Why,
Mary," he exclaimed, •* what could have induced you to bring an umbrella on such
a lovely morning as this ? '* "I thought, sir," answered Mary, " that as we were
going to pray for rain I should be sure to want the umbrella." The minister patted
her cheek good-naturedly and the iervice began. Presently the wind rose, the
clouds gathered, and at length the long-desired rain feU in torrents. Mary and the
minister went home together under the umbrella, while the rest of the congrega-
tion reached their dwellings well drenched. Let us follow Mary's example, and
always pray, not only hoping that God may hear, but believing that He does hear,
and will send us what we ask if it is good for ns. The most mighty force :
Thou hast power in prayer, and thou standest to-day amongst the most potent
ministers in the universe that God has made. Thou hast power over angels, they
will fly at thy will. Thou hast power over fire and water, and the elements of
earth. Thou hast power to make thy voice heard beyond the stars ; where the
thunders die out in silence thy voice shall make the echoes of eternity. {C.H.Spur-
geon.) Power of prayer :— Oh, God, thou hast given us a mighty weapon, and
we have permitted it to rust. Would it not be a vile crime if a man had an eye
given him which he would not open, or a hand that he would not lift up, or a foot
that grew stiff because he would not use it. (C. H, Spurgeon.) Pleading prayer :
It was said of John Bradford that he had a peculiar art in prayer, and when
asked for his secret he said : " When I know what I want I always stop on that
prayer until I feel that I have pleaded it with God, and until God and I have had
dealings with each other upon it. (Ibid.) The limit of prayer : — I. Pbayeb's
MMiT. " All things soever ye desire, believe and ye shall have them." The boundary
line of desire and of faith. 1. The boundary line of faith. Faith is vast, recog-
nizes the covenant of the promises, and whatever comes outside the promises for
which she can find anywhere a direct engagement of Almighty God to do. Faith
is the taming of an infinite future, into a present real receiving ; it can go confi-
dently when it treads on Scripture ground. So the Bible becomes, in a measure,
prayer ; you must try to bring prayer up to the mind of God in it. 2. Desire has
a gracious limit. A man well acquainted with God's Word lives under the teaching
of the Holy Spirit, and his mind is conformed to the mind of Gk)d, and his desires
gradually blend with the wishes of the Almighty. II. Pbatbb's beach. III.
Pbaybb'b wabbant. The blood of Christ and the worth of this warrant. 1. It
is personal. 2. It is present. 8. It is absolute. {J, Vaughan, MJL.)
Vers. 25, 26. Bat If ye do not forgive.— P/ayw and forgiveness ;— 1 The first
lesson here taught is that of a forgiving disposition. God's ftill and free forgiveness
is to be the rule of ours with men. 2. There is a second and more general lesson.
Our daily life in the world is made the test of oar intercourse with God in prayer.
Life does not consist of so many loose pieces, of which now the one, then the other,
can be taken up. My drawing nigh to God is of one piece with my intercourse
with men. Failure here will cause failure there. 8. We may gather these thoughts
into a third lesson. In oar life with men the one thing on which everything depends
is love. The spirit of forgiveness is the spirit of love. The right relations to the
living God above me, and the living men around me, are the conditions of effectual
prayer. (A, Murray.) Forgiving foe* : — L Wb should fobqivb oub shxhiss
AHD ALL WHO HATH DUUBBB US, BXOAUSX OV THX DiVINE BXAKPLE. Let US Icam tO
act like oar Father in heaven, who forgives as without any merit on our part. IL
W» SHOULD VOMITB BxoAusx IT 18 NBSDruL FOB OUB OWN PBAOK. Bevenge cherished
is like a thorn in the flesh, in. Foboivxnxss is onb of thk most mpobtant bzoks
AVn ■SSHMTXALS OF 8PXBITDAL OBOWTH. IV. Wb SHOULD FOBOIVZ ONB ANOTHBB BB-
OAUSB IT IS THH OONDITIOR OF OUB OWN FOBaivxNBSS. (Anon.) Forgive : — ^He that
eannot forgive others breaks down the bridge over which he most pass himself ; for
•vofj one has need to be forgiven. As when the seaworm makes a hole in the shell
462 THE BIBLICAL ILLVSTBATOR, [ohap. Xk
of the massel, the hole is filled np with a pearl ; so, when the heart is pierced by aa
injury, forgiveness is like a pearl, healing and filling ap the wound. (Anon,)
Generous and magnanimous minds are readiest to forgive ; and it is a weakness and
impotency of mind to be unable to forgive. {Bacon.) Forgive and forget : —
Whilst wrongs are remembered, they are not remitted. He forgives not, that forgets
not. When an inconsiderate fellow had struck Cato in the bath, and afterwards
besought his pardon, he replied, '* I remember not that thou didst strike me." Our
Henry VI. is said to have been of that happy memory, that he never forgot anything
but injuries. (J. Trapp.) Forgive: — ^A wealthy planter in Virginia, who had a
great number of slaves, found one of them reading the Bible, and reproved him for
neglect of his work, saying, there was time enough on Sundays for reading the Bible,
and that on other days he ought to be in the tobacco-house. On the offence being
repeated, he ordered the slave to be whipped. Going near the place of punishment
soon after its infliction, curiosity led him to listen to a voice engaged in prayer ; and
he heard the poor black implore the Almighty to forgive the injustice of his master,
to touch his heart with a sense of his sin, and to make him a good Christian.
Struck with remorse, he made an immediate change in his life, which had been
careless and dissipated, and appears now only to study how he can render his wealth
and talents useful to others. Forgiveness by those forgiven : — A great boy in a
school was so abusive to the younger ones, that the teacher took the vote of the
school whether he should be expelled. All the small boys voted to expel him,
except one, who was scarcely five years old. Tet he knew very well that the bad
boy would probably continue to abuse him. '♦ Why, then, did you vote for him to
stay ? " said the teacher. ** Because if he is expelled, perhaps he will not learn any
more about God, and so he will be more wicked still." •' Do you forgive him then?"
inquired the teacher. •* Yes," said the little fellow ; " papa and mamma, and you,
all forgive me when I do wrong ; God forgives me too, and I must do the same.**
Why prayers sometimes fail : — I. Let us, in the first place, entbb upon am intellx*
OBNT EXPOSITION OF THE VERSES JUST ks THBT STAND. It will be quitc as nccossary
for us to be sure what they do not mean, as what they do mean ; for the declaration
has been somewhat abused. 1. It is easy to show what our Lord does not teach in
His repeated counsels on this point. The new revision gives a very interesting turn
to the form of expression by throwing the verb into the past tense : " forgive as our
debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors." This intensifies the admonition, and
enforces the condition that ensures success in our praying ; for it demands that our
pardon of injuries shall have taken place previous even to our coming to the mercy-
seat for ourselves. It cannot be that the passage we are studying means that our
forgiveness of others is in any sense the ground for our remission of sins from God.
It cannot be that the passage means that our forgiveness of others is to furnish the
measure of our own pardon from God. 2. What then does our Lord mean when
He gives this warning ? How is a forgiving spirit connected with our prayers ? If
our having pardoned those who have injured us be not a ground for our own pardon
nor a measure of Divine grace, what is it T For one thing, it may be used as a token.
It can be looked upon as a hopeful sign that our transgressions have been removed,
and that we are now heirs of the kingdom. " For, if ye forgive men their trespasses
your heavenly Father will also forgive you.'* Such a token can be employed very
easily. If used faithfully, it would set at rest many a doubt concerning religion in
one's heart. For another thing, this passage may serve as an admonition. And it
is likely that it will have in this its widest use. The petition of the great universal
prayer cannot be pressed without its comment. In this demand for a forgiving
spirit, there is nothing less than a permanent reminder that when we come asking
for pardon, we must be prepared to exercise it likewise ; if not, we are to turn on oar
track and seek preparation. II. This being the exposition of the verses, and the
conclusion having been inevitably reached that we cannot even pray without the
spirit of forgiveness, rr is evident that wb must move fobwabd to a hioheb planb
OF ohbistian expebiengb in this one PABTIOUX.AB. So WO iuquire, in the seoond
place, concerning the reach and the limit of the doctrine of forgiveness. 1. The
reach of it is indicated in an incident of Simon Peter's life (Matt, xviii. 21, 22). 2.
But now, with a sober sense of inquiry, and a sincere wish to be reasonable, some
of us are ready to ask after the limit as well as the reach of this counsel. (Luke xvii.
8, 4.) Before this question can be plainly answered, we must be careful to see that
forgiveness does not imply that we approve, condone, or underrate the injorioui
acts committed ; we forgive the sin er, not the sin — the sin we are to forget. Nor
does forgiveness imply that we a e to stifle all honest indignation against the
CHAP, n.l 8T. MABK. 463
wickedness of the injury. Nor is it settled that we are to take the injurious man
into constant companionship if we forgive him ; Jacoh and Esau will do better aparu
What, then, are we to do ? We are, in our very heart of hearts, to cease for evei
from the sore sense of a hurt ; we are to shut our souls against all suggestions of
requital or future revenge ; we are to use all means for furthering the interests ol
those who have done us harm ; we are to illustrate the greatness of God*s pardoning
love by the quickness of our own. All this before our wrongs have been atoned for ;
before our honest acts and decent deeds have been shown 1 It does seem a little
difficult ; but think over Augustine's searching question : ** Do you who are a Christian
desire to be revenged and vindicated, and the death of Jesus Christ has not yet been
revenged, nor his innocence vindicated t " It is related of the chivalric leader, the
great Sir Tristam, that his stepmother tried twice to poison him. He hurried to the
king, who honoured him as he honoured none other, and craved a boon: "I
beseech you of your mercy that you will forgive it her ! Gk>d forgive it her, and I
do 1 For God's love, I require you to grant me my boon 1 '* ((7. S, Robinson, B.D.)
Forgiveness of injurieg : — A young Greenlander said to a missionary, *• I do love Jesus
— I would do anything for Him ; how good of Him to die for me 1 " The missionary
said to him, " Are you sure you would do anything for our dear Lord? ** " Yes, I
would do anything for Him. What can I do ? ** The missionary, showing him the
Bible, said, '• This Book says, *Thou shalt do no murder.'" " Oh, but that man
killed my father." "Our dear Lord Himself says, • If ye love Me, keep My com.
mandments,' and this is one of them." "Oh," exclaimed the Greenlander, " I do
love Jesus 1 but I — I must — " "Wait a little, calm yourself ; think it well over, and
then come and let me know." He went out, but presently came back, saying, " I
cannot decide ; one moment I will, the next I will not. Help me to decide." The
missionary answered; " When you say, *I will kill him,' it is the evil spirit trying to
gain the victory ; when you say, *% will not,' it is the Spirit of God striving withm
you." And so speaking, he induced him at length to give up his murderous design.
Accordingly the Greenlander sent a message to the murderer of his father, telling
him to come and meet him as a friend. He came, with kindness on his lips, but
treachery in hia heart. For, after he had stayed with him a while, he asked the
yotmg man to come and visit him on this side of the river. To this he readily as-
sented, but, on returning to his boat, found that a hole had been pierced in the boat,
and cleverly concealed by his enemy, who hoped thereby to destroy him. He stopped
the hole, and put off in his boat, which to tiie surprise and wrath and indignation
of the other, who had climbed a high rock on purpose to see him drown, did not
sink, but merrily breasted the waves. Then cried the young man to his enemy, " I
freely forgive you, for our dear Lord has forgiven me."
Vers. 28-88. By what authority doest Thou fheee thlngit— CArut't authority
and the vay to discern it: — I. From thb sxdb or thx qubstiombbs and theib
QuxsTiON. "By what authority doest Then these things," &o. Christ's power
was a new power in the world at that time. It was different from the authority
of the scribes, priests, elders, and sanhedrim. They had a right to put this
question, but were chargeable with negligence in not having settled it long
before. They were Israel's shepherds, and had a responsibility for the people
over whom they were set. Year by year, and we may almost say day by day,
there is some power or another growing np in society which in process of time
will make itself felt, and which will gradually weaken and uproot all authority
which is held in a wrong spirit, and which is exercised in a wrong way. And it
has often made great way before its progress is observed. Christianity began by
appealing to the hearts of men, to what men felt to be true. It began in Christ's
life and teaching. It pandered to no prejudice. It rested not till it brought every
man, with his faults, into the presence of God. To these facts the priests and
scribes were blind. There are men who will do nothing but by tradition and rule ;
they set form above substance. They slumbered whilst new forces were rising sJl
around them. So like Christ there are men who strive to do good, striking out a
course for themselves, who look at what has to be done, if not in the old way, in one
which will accomplish the object. These leave it to critics and cavillers to settle as
best they can by what authority this work is done. II. Loos ax thb passaox
raoM THB BiDB ov Chbist. It was not His custom to be silent when men wished to
learn. He received Nicodemus by night; reasoned with the Samaritan woman;
ZaccheuB. Christ says, " Neither will I tell you." These words are not mere
resolotioii on His part to withhold information ; but in their being unable to receive
464 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap. n.
what He might tell them. On another oocasion the Jews came to Christ and said,
*' If Thou be the Christ, tell us plainly." Christ's answer was, "I have told you
before, and ye did not believe." In like manner the rulers had been virtually told
before by what authority Christ had done these things. His words and works were
His authority. This want of power to set the truth and to know it is the natural
result of a spirit of unfaithfulness to former light and present convictions. Many
people overlook this law of their spiritual being ; they think that by neglect or
carelessness they are at the most missing some advantage for a short season, and that
when they please they can regain what has been lost. They forget that the loss is
within, in the soul, character, and life, and that it is irreparable. When they wrong
their inward convictions, they not merely defile their honour, but destroy the very
powers of discerning right and wrong, truth and error. Each time that a man is
unfaithful to the light within him he is laying a thicker fihn upon the spiritual eye.
It is marvellous how men with an honest love of the truth are guided into it, and
are led out of the labyrinth of darkness and perplexities which surround them.
{A. Watson, D.D.) Christ's works His authority : — His works were His authority,
His teaching was His authority. Just as the discovery of a principle in science is
the authority for accepting it, as the discovery of a law of nature is the authority
for following it, as the invention of a piece of mechanism is the authority for using
it, as the healing power of a new medicine is the authority for applying it — so, one
would think, there was no need to ask for the authority by which the sorrowful
were comforted, or the ignorant taught, or the wicked reformed, or the worldly
made spiritual. These works themselves showed whose authority they had. It
you cannot see authority in an act of mercy or kindness, how can any words show
it ? If you cannot see the authority of a wise act, or of a true word, or of a good -
life, how can any assertions prove it ? If a man is righteous, yon do not ask him
his authority for being just ; or benevolent, you do not question his authority for
kindness of heart : and if a man, by reading the hearts and consciences of men,
succeeds in producing in them a purer and better life, in calming the passionate, in
changing the idle into the industrious, the intemperate into the sober, the imholy
into the chaste and virtuous— these changes themselves are for you the assurance
of an authority which no man may deny. {Ibid.) The question of authority : —
There is something just in the words of Christ's enemies. The idea of Divine reve-
lation is inseparable from the idea of authority. If God speaks He will speak with
authority. That authority will have nothing violent or arbitrary in it ; it will be
persuasive, it will set free instead of enthralling. Individual illumination becomes
a dream if it claims to raise itself above God's revelation. God, who has given
revealed truth to men, has given them at the same time the institutions which
preserve it. But we must make a fundamental distinction between the Divine
truth and the institutions destined to preserve it. The authority of the first is
direct ; the authority of the second only derived. What is the aim of religious
institutions ? To preserve life. If the authority of the institution is put above that
of the truth itself, if the form is put above the foundation, it is a perversion of the
Divine order. Jesus to the Scribes is a person without authority. For them
authority is wholly in the priestly institution. These men would have said to the
sun, *' By what right dost thou shine at an hour we have not chosen f Prove to us
that thou hast permission to give us light." Therefore they shut their eyes to the
light. Let us never put questions of hierarchy and of the church above the truth.
I am not indifferent to these things, the form here touches very closely the reality
I distrust a soldier that turns up his nose at his flag. We must love and defend
the church to which we belong. But we must know how to recognize everything
outside of it that God makes beautiful, and by means which are not at its direction.
We must choose between the pharisaioal spirit that says to Christ, "By what
Authority doest thou these things? " and the spirit of truth which, when it sees the
light, comes to the light, and says, " God is here." {E. Bersier, D.D.) The official
religionist challenges the Prophet on apointof order : — The method is always popular
— ^plausible ; it appeals to every commonplace instinct, and is flattering even to the
lowest intelligence. "By what authority?" Who shall fathom the depth of
Divine scorn in the Saviour's glance ere He replied t In truth, by what authority
did Nathan stand in the presence of David, and, after arraigning before him in his
tale a black criminal, cry, ** Thou art the man " ? By what authority did Elijah
confront Ahab and denounce him as the •• troubler of Israel " ? By what authority
did Paul, the prisoner at the bar, stand before Fehx, and reason with him ** con>
•eming righteousness, temperance, and judgme t to oome " ? , By what authority
CHAP, xxt] ST. MARK, 465
in all ages and everywhere does the spiritual man judge the carnal man; the
heavenly assert supremacy over the earthly, sensual, and devilish ? Before we
listen to the question which Jesus in His turn puts to His questioner by way oi
answer, read the situation between the lines ; let us pause to take in the full mean-
ing of His searching, indignant gaze. " You" it seems to say, ♦• you who question
My authority, then, are the religious teachers. It is your business to know about
spiritual things ; to judge between the things of God and the things of man ; to
judge spiritual and carnal conduct ; to protect religion ; to guard the temple ; to be
the ministers and stewards of the mysteries. Is that so ? Well, let Me see it you
are fit for such duties — if you in the least understand them. If you do, you will
have a right to question My action, not otherwise. Prove to Me your authority, I
will prove to you Mine. The baptism of John, was it from heaven or of men ? "
A silence — dead silence. The eyes of the crowd are on the Pharisees ; they notice
them whispering together. They are overheard muttering, " If we say, • of heaven,'
He will say, ' Why, then, did you not believe Him ? ' if , ♦ of men,' all the people will
stone us, for they be persuaded that John was a prophet.' ' Then at last these
teachers, these judges of spiritual action, reply out loud, ♦' We cannot tell." Cannot
tell — great doctors of the law — whether John was a charlatan or not ; cannot teU
the difference between true and false teaching — real and sham religion ! Well, if
they cannot tell about John, what is the value of their opinion about Christ ? They
are not ashamed to dub themselves imbeciles — incapables. Had they expressed an
adverse opinion, it would have still been respectable ; had they proclaimed John
and Christ, fanatics, enthusiasts, or impostors, they would have found supporters, as
every one does who has the courage of his opinions. But no — " We cannot tell."
It was enough ; they were answered out of their own mouths. There are some
things it is quite useless to tell people who *• cannot tell " ; there are some things
which, if not felt, can never be explained. (H. R. Haweis, M.A.) Authority
and presumption: — I. Where the action is unquestionably right, some will censure
the agent. II. They who require reasons should be ready to give reasons. IH.
Truth should be the first question with men, not consequences. IV. Incompetency
may be exposed, and assumption resisted, for the sake of truth. {J. H, Qodwin.)
CHAPTER Xn
Vbbi. 1-12. A certain man planted a vineyard, and set an hedgre abont it.—
The vineyard, or the visible Church transferred to the Oentilet : — I. The chdbch la
God's peculiab tseasure. U. The Jewish people webb appoimtei) its ouabdiamb.
ni. The Jewish nation was unfaithful to its tbust. 1. They rejected the moral
government of Jehovah. 2. They rejected His political control as the head of their
theocracy. IV. The sacbed tbust was transfbbbed to otheb peoples and nations.
V. They webb feabtully punished as a nation. 1. We are now led to admire the
sublime features of the scheme of Providence. 2. That there is a great responsi-
bility on the nations, communities, and individuals, to which God commits His
Church. 3. We are the husbandmen. {E. N. Kirk, D.D.J Ood the Proprietor
of all : — ^The manufacturer in his ofiSce knows that througn building after building
filled with machinery, running out to the very first and rudest processes, every single
act of every single operative, down to the last and lowest boy, has its direct com-
mercial connection with him and his interest. There is not one of the wheels that
revolve of the ten thousand ; there is not a thread spun or woven ; there is not a
colour mixed nor employed ; there is not a thing done by any of the hands working
in his vast establishment of whom there may be hundreds or even thousands, that
is not related directly to his interest. The whole economy of the globe is, as it
were, but a small manufactory under the direction of God ; and there is not a
single act performed in it which has nai some relation to the thought, the feelings,
the purpose of God. And He declares Himself to be in a wonderful sense identi-
fied with everything that is going on in life, in one way or another. {H. W.
Beecher.) Obligation to God .-—Horace Bushnell tells us that a few years before his
death, Daniel Webster, having a large party of friends dining with him at Marsh-
field, was called on by one of the party as they became seated at the table to specify
what one thing he had met with m his life which had done most for him, or had
contributed most to the success of his personal history. After a moment ha
80
466 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [oha». xn.
replied : " The most fraitful and elevating influence I have ever seemed to meet
with has been my impression of obligation to God." Th^ world's ingratitude : —
Soentes, one of the wisest and noblest men of his time, after a long career of service
m denouncing the wrongs of his age, and trying to improve the morals of the people,
was condemned to death and obliged to drink poison. Dante, when Italy was torn
by poHtical factions, each ambitious of power, and all entirely unscrupulous as to
the means employed to attain it, laboured with untiring zeal to bring about Italian
unity, and yet his patriotism met no other reward than exile. *• Florence for Italy,
and Italy for the world," were his words when he heard his sentence of banishment.
Columbus was sent home in irons from the country he had discovered. The last
two years of his Ufa present a picture of black ingratitude on the part of the Crown
to this distinguished benefactor of the kingdom, which it is truly painful to contem-
plate. He died, perhaps, the poorest man in the whole kingdom he had spent his
lifetime to enrich. Bruno, of Nola, for his advocacy of the Copernican system, was
seized by the Inquisition and burned alive at Rome in 1600, in the presence of an
immense concourse. Scioppus, the Latinist, who was present at the execution, with
a sarcastic allusion to one of Bruno's heresies, the infinity of worlds, wrote, '• The
-^ flames carried him to those worlds." {M. Denton.) God's forbearance : — The
Macedonian king, Alexander the Great, who, as in one triumphal march, conquered
the world, observed a very singular custom in his method of carrying on war.
^Vhenever he encamped with his army before a fortified city and laid siege to it, he
caused to be set up a great lantern, which was kept lighted by day and night.
This was a signal to the besieged, and what it meant was that as long as the lamp
burned they had time to save themselves by surrender, but that when once the light
should be extinguished, the city, and all that were in it, would be irrevocably given
over to destruction. And the conqueror kept his word with terrible consistency.
When the light was put out, and the city was not given up, all hope of mercy was
oyer. The Macedonians stormed the place, and if it was taken all were out to
pieces who were capable of bearing arms, and there was no quarter or forgiveness
possible. Now, it is the good pleasure of our God to have compassion and to show
mercy. But a city or a people can arrive at such a pitch of moral corruption that
the moral order of the world can only be saved by its destruction. It was so with
the whole race of men at the time of the flood, with Sodom and Gomorrah at a
later period, and with the Jewish people in our Saviour's time. But before the
impending stroke of judgment fell, God alvsrays, so to speak, set up the lamp of
grace, which was not only a signal of mercy, but also a light to show men that they
were in the way of death, and a power to turn them from it. (Otto Funeke.)
Pursutd by God's mercy ;— " Saved at the bottom of the sea 1 " So said one of our
Sydney divers to a city missionary. In his house, in one of our suburbs, might be
seen lately what would probably strike the visitor as a very strange chimney orna-
ment ; the shells of an oyster holding fast a piece of printed paper. But devoutly
do I wish that every chimney ornament could tell such a tale of usefulness. The
possessor of this ornament might well value it. He was diving amongst wreck on
our coast, when he observed at the bottom of the sea this oyster on a rock, with this
piece of paper in his mouth, which he detached, and commenced to read through
the goggles of his head-dress. It was a tract, and, coming to him thus strangely
and unexpectedly, so impressed his unconverted heart, that he said, " I can hoU
out against God's mercy in Christ no longer, since it pursues me thus." He tells
us that he became, whilst in the ocean's depth, a repentant, converted, and (as he
was assured) sin-forgiven man— "saved at the bottom of the seal" (Mother's
Treasury.) God's longsuffering : — The axe carried before the Roman consuls was
always bound up in a bundle of rods. An old author tells us that " the rods were
tied up with knotted cords, and that when an offender was condemned to be
punished the executioner would untie the knots, one by one, and meanwhile the
magistrate would look the culprit in the face, to observe any signs of repentance
and watch his words, to see if he could find a motive for mercy ; and thas justice
went to its work deliberately and without passion." The axe was enclosed in rods
to show that the extreme penalty was never inflicted till milder means had failed ;
first the rod, and the axe only as a terrible necessity. (G. H. Spurgeon.) God's
love in sending Hi* Son : — What would tempt you to give the baby out of your
cradle ? Is there any one you love on earth, mother, that would tempt yon to give
your baby for that t But what ii the child had grown up and had come to man's
estate ? Say it had bloomed into fruition and all your hope was on it. What do
yoa lore in this world that would tempt yoa to give this child up a sacoifioe f Yoa
<JHAF. xn.] 8T. MARK, 467
might for the country in hours of heroism. Many and many a mother has done
a work that was divine when she consecrated her only son and sent him forth into
the war, believing that she should never see him again. How many hearts are
touched with the thought of this remembrance. But, oh, is there language that
can expound such heroism, such zeal, such enthusiasm, as must inhere in the
hearts of every one that can do such work as that ? And yet our hearts are small
comparatively, and pulseless and shallow, and our human senses, as compared with
God, are like a drop of water in comparison with the ocean. And what is the love
of God, the Infinite, whose flowings are like the Gulf Stream? What are the
depths, and the breadths, and the lengths of the love of God in Christ Jesus, when,
looking upon a world that was so degraded and animal-like, He gave His only,
begotton Son to die for it that there might be an interpretation of the love of God
to the world. {H. W. Beecher.) Christ ungratefully treated : — Surely a servant
of the government may risk himself in the very heart of a convict prison ^lone, if
he is the bearer of a royal pardon for all the inmates. In such a case it would not
be necessary to look out for a man of rare courage who might dare to carry the
proclamation to the convicts. Give him but the message of free pardon, and he
may go in unarmed, with all safety, like Daniel in the den of lions. When Christ
Himself came to the world — the great convict-prison of the universe — came the
Ambassador from God, bringing peace — they said : " This is the heir ; come, let us
kill Him ! " He came unto His own, and His own received Him not ; and the ser-
vant is not greater than his Lord. (4.) Cruelty to Christ : — Some time ago a
father had a son who had broken his mother's heart. After her death he went on
from bad to worse. One night he was going out to spend it in vice, and the old
man went to the door as the young one was going out, and said, " My son, I want
to ask a favour of you to-night. You have not spent one night with me since your
mother was buried, and I have been so lonesome without her and without you, and
now I want to have you spend to-night with me ; I want to have a talk with you
about the future." The young man said, '» No, father, I do not want to stay ; it is
gloomy here at home.'* He said, "Won't you stay for my sake?" and the son
said he would not. At last, the old man said, ** If I cannot persuade you to stay,
if you are determined to go down to ruin, and to break my heart, as you have your
mother's — for these grey hairs cannot stand it much longer — ^you shall not go
without my making one more effort to save you ; " and the old man threw open the
door, and laid himself upon the threshold, and said, " If you go out to-night you
must go over this old body of mine ; " and what did he do ? Why, that young man
leaped over the father, and on to ruin he went. Did you ever think that God has
given His Son ? Yes, He has laid Him, as it were, right across your path that
you might not go down to hell ; and if there is a soul in this assembly that
goes to hell, you must go over the murdered body of God's Son. {D. L. Moody.)
The Mtream of mercy directed into another course : — In the channel through which
a running stream is directed upon a mill-whed, the same turning of a valve
that shuts the water out of one course throws it into another. Thus the Jews, by
rejecting the counsel of God, shut themselves out, and at the same moment opened
a way whereby mercy might flow to us who were afar off. {William Arnot.)
The parable of the vineyard :^One who was wont to illustrate His teaching by
imagery drawn from the objects which surrounded Him, could hardly fail in the
neighbourhood of Jerusalem to speak of vineyards. The hills and table-lands of
Judah were the home of the vine. Five times our Lord availed Himself of this
figure for His parables (St. Matt. xx. 1; xxi. 28,33; St. Luke xiii. 6; St John xv. 1);
and though it is doubtful in what locality He spoke that of the labourers in the
vineyard, it is almost certain that the remaining four are intimately associated
with Jerusalem. In many places in Southern Palestine the features of this parable
may still be traced. The loose stone fences, like the walls so familiar to the eye in
Wales or Derbyshire ; the remains of the old watch-towers, generally in one corner
of the enclosure ; and the cisterns hewn in the solid rock in which the grapes were
pressed — all remain to the present day. It was the custom in our Lord's time for
the owner in leasing a vineyard to tenants, to arrange for the rent to be paid, not
in money but in kind — a certain portion of the produce being set apart as *• a first
charge " for the landlord. The system prevails in modem times in some parts of
France, and more widely under the name of "ryot-rent" in India. {H. If.
Luekock, D.D.) God's dealings with the Jews are signified in this parable:^
I. He did by His special providence protect and defend the Jewish Church, against
all enemies and dangers both bodily and spiritual, which might annoy them and so
TEE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [oha».
hinder their fmitfulneBS. 11. He afforded them all necessary helps and mean»
to further them in grace, and to make them spiritually fruitful. 1. The Ministry
of the Word and Sacraments, together with the whole true worship of God prescribed
in the moral and ceremonial Law. 2. Godly discipline. 3. Afflictions and chostiBO-
ments. 4. Mercies and deliverances. 6. Miracles. (G. Fetter.) God'g care oj
Hi* church .-—Where God plants a true church, He does not so leave it, but u
further careful to furnish it with all things needful for a church ; and not only for
the being, but also for the well-being of it ; that it may not only be a church, but
a happy and prosperous church, growing and flourishiug in grace, and bringing
forth plentiful fruits of grace, such as God requires and are acceptable to Him by
Jesus Christ. As a careful and wise householder, having planted a vineyard for hi&
use, doth not so leave it, and do no more to it ; but is at further care and cost to
furnish it with such things as are necessary and commodious, to the end ii may
grow flourish, and prosper, and that it may bring forth much fruit and profit to the
owner of it. So here, the Lord having planted a church in any place or amongst
any people, doth not so leave it, but is caief ul to use all further means for the good
of His church ; especially for the spiritual good and prosperity of it, that it may
grow, and increase, and prosper spiritually, and bring forth much spiritual fruit
to God who planted it. Thus He did to the church of the Jews : He did not only
plant His vineyard amongst them, by adopting and calling them to be His people,
but withal He hedged about that vineyard, and set up a winepress, and buUt a
watch-tower in it, i.e.. He furnished the Jews with all things needful to make them
happy and prosperous, truly growing, thriving, and prospering in grace, and
brmging forth plentiful fruits thereof, to the glory of God, the good of others, and
the furtherance of their own salvation. To this end. He compassed them about
with His special providence, as with a strong and sure hedge, to defend and keep
them safe from all enemies and dangers bodily and spiritual which might annoy
them ; He gave and continued to them all spiritual helps and means of grace, and a
government of His own appointing ; He corrected them with afflictions, bestowed on
them great mercies and deliverances, and wrought miracles for their benefit, to further
their spiritual good and prosperity. And this is but a sample of how He treats
every iJue church that He plants. {Ibid.) The church divinely protected:—
Whether in the parable the hedge and winefat and tower had each a special applica-
tion in the system of God's providential care for His ancient people, we cannot
say • but at least in one particular we may trace a peculiar fitness in the figure of
" the hedge." What was it that protected the land of Israel year by year during
the three Great Festivals, when by the Divine Law the country was denuded of its
male population ; when every man from north, south, east, and west, from the most
unguarded districts, leaving their flocks and herds, their wives and little ones,
totally unprotected from their bitterest enemies, went up to Jerusalem, the centre
of religious worship ? What was it that held in check the Moabite and Ammonite,
and the robber tribes of Arabia ? It was the fence of Divine protection, which,
like a wall of fire, God in His providence had built up, so that no one dared to pass
it. (H. M. Luckock, D.D.) The pleading of the last Messenger :— The coming of
the Son of God in human form, as Emmanuel, is love's great plea for reconciliation.
Who can resist so powerful an argument ? I. The amazing mission. 1. He comes
after many rejections of Divine love. None have been left without admomtions
and expostulations from God. From childhood upwards He has called us by most
earnest entreaties of faithful men and affectionate women ; and, in spite of our
obstinate resistance. He still sends to us His Son to plead with us and urge us to
go to our Father. 2. He comes for no personal ends. It is for our own sake that
He strives with us. Nothing but tender regard for our well-being makes Him warn
us. 3. See who this Messenger is. (1) He is One greatly beloved of His Father.
(2) In Himself He is of surpassmg excellence. (3) His graciousness is as con-
spicuous as His glory. (4) His manner is most wmning. (6) He is God's uUi-
matum. Nothing remains when Christ is refused. Heaven contams no further
Messenger. Rejecting Christ you reject all, and shut against yourself the only
possible door of hope. II. The astounding crimb. There are many ways of
killing the Son of Gcd. 1. Denying His deity. 2. Denying His atonement.
8. Remaining indifferent to His claims. 4. Refusing to obey His gospel. Thus
you may virtually put Him away, and so be guilty of His blood, and crucify Him
afresh. HI. Thb appbopbiatb punishment. Our Lord leaves our own consciences
t« depict the overwhelming misery of those who carry their rebellion to its full
kngtb. He leayei oar imagination to prescribe a doom sufficient for a crime so
31.J ST, MARK. 469
base, so daring, bo oraeL {C. H. Spurgeon.) The ion rejected : — ^I. Th» ownxb's
ciiAiM. His right and aatbority are complete. God presses His right to oar love
and servioe. Blessings are privileges, and privileges are obligations. We owe Him
more than Israel owed. The human will has a natural repngnanoe to submission
to absolute authority. But God never presents His claim as grounded on thia
alone. He tells of His love before He declares His laws. Only a bad heart can
resent the authority or refuse the service. H. The owner's lovino patience.
There never was an earthly employer who showed such persistent kindness towards
such persistent rebellion. This is a faint picture of God's forbearance towards
Israel. Mercies, deliverances, revelations, gather around their history. III. Thb
BBJECTION. Bejection of the prophets leads up to the rejection of Christ. Privilege
ftnd place do not lessen the danger. IV. The judgment. It was just, necessary,
complete, remediless. Y. The final exaltation of the son. The kingdom is
not to perish, only the rebellious. {C. M, Southgate.) The Head of the Comer : —
I. The picture suggested by the scene which Christ calls up into imagination
would be likely to cause surprise, or be termed an exaggeration, if it were laid any-
where outside of Palestine. Down even to the present time customs remain very
much the same as in Christ's day in that oppressed country. 1. The insecurity ot
property and person is proverbial. The Scripture record might be incorporated
into the ordinary guide-books. 2. There has been in all ages a special confusion of
iniquitous dealing iu respect to real estate. Thievery and violence seem to be the
rule in the east, peace and possession the exception. Something is to be charged
to the government ; the laws are indefinite, and bribery is rife ; indeed, the govern-
ment sets the example of systematized crime. In all history of the Holy Land,
from Christ's time to ours, the rulers have been organized for official robbery
and outrage. No titles are secure, even when one has paid for his vineyard
or his bmlding-plot. 3. Then, too, the custom of committing all oversight
and control of farms and orchards to underhngs makes the matter a great deal
worse. Absenteeism is a fruitful reason for crime (Mark xii. 1). Those men
left in charge of the vineyard, to whom messenger after messenger had been^ sent,
and who now were peremptorily addressed by the owner with a GnaX demand in the
august person of his son, are represented as communing with each other, and saying,
as they laid the wiles of their conspiracy, what might be construed into an ntterance
of their belief that, if this one inheritor were only dead, all heirship would be
extinguished (Mark xii. 7). 4. Still, so far as we can learn, there was no ground
for hope of success in this plot. No enactment has come down to us which would
sustain such an entailment or division or heirship as those infamous creatures
assumed. Luke's language (xx. 14) agrees with Mark's ; but Matthew (xxi. 38) says,
** Let as seize on his inheritance." This suggests the true interpretation. The
husbandmen had no countenance in the common law ; they intended to say that
they would make the vineyard theirs by violence, and hold it by any extremities of
force. It was a singularly stupid plan ; it could not have even a plausible look
anywhere but in that wretched region. It assumed an absence of justice, an
insecurity of possession, an immunity from the worst crime, positively oriental in
its toleration of rapine and murder. 5. Add to this the fact that in those early
days, when invention had not yet brought firearms into use, the measures taken for
homicide were brutal and hard beyond description. Not even spears or daggers or
knives are used there for assassination now any more than they used to be. The
coarse, rude weapon for murder is a club or bludgeon of the roughest sort ; the
Bed&win will have a gun on their shoulders, but will knock their victim on the
head with a knotted stick all the same. The description, left on record by the
Psalmist, is true to this day : ** He sitteth in the larking places of the villages : in
the secret places doth he murder tiie innocent : his eyes are privily set against th«
poor. He lieth in wait secretly as a lion in his den : he lieth in wait to catch tha
poor : he doth catch the poor, when he draweth him into his net. He cronoheth,
and humbleth himself, that the poor may fall by his strong ones. He hath said in
his heart, God hath forgotten: He hideth His face; He will never see it."^ 6. Hence,
this frightful picture was a tremendous invective as well as a vivid illustration
when employed by our Lord. He used it for a similitude in one of His most direct
and forcible arraignments of the Jewish nation for their blind, dull, coarse, criminal
rejection of God's only-begotten Son, despatched then from high heaven to secure
His Father's rights from those who had grasped after heirship by murder. IL We
turn now to the second branch of the story. Oar Lord suddenly drops His figure,
and leaves the parable altogether, finiahing His application with a quotation from
470 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. xn.
one of the most familiar of the psahns (cxviii. 22). 1. Thns He illnstrates Hii
position. He claims a Messianic psahn for Himself. Matthew (xzi. 43) tells ns He
said to those hearers of His in plain words that He was speaking this parable con-
cerning them. And He chooses to show them that, for Himself, there was no fear
of the future. The *' son " of the story, who got murder instead of *• reverence,"
is heard of no more. But the Son of God, though "rejected" now, should one
day come to His place of honour. They understood Him very well, for in an
alarmed sort of murmur they said, " God forbid I " (Luke xx. 16). 2. Thus He
predicts His eventual triumph. There is a tradition of the Jewish Rabbis which
relates the history of a wonderful stone, prepared, as they say, for nee in the building
of Solomon's temple. Each block for that matchless edifice was shaped and fitted
for its particular place, and came away from the distant quarry marked for the
masons. But this one was so different from any other that no one knew what to do
with it. Beautiful indeed it was ; carved with figures of exquisite loveliness and
grace ; but it had no fellow ; it fitted nowhere ; and at last the impatient and per-
plexed workmen flung it aside as only a splendid piece of folly. Years passed, while
the proud structure was going up without the sound of axe or hammer. During all
the time this despised fragment of rock was lying in the valley of Jehoshaphat
covered with dirt and moss. Then came the day of dedication ; the vast throng
arrived to see what the Israelites were wont to call " the noblest fabric under the
sun." There it stood crowning the mountain's ridge, and shining with whiteness
of silver and yellowness of gold. The wondering multitudes gazed admiringly upon
its magnificent proportions, grand in their splendour of marble. But when one said
that the east tower was unfinished, or at least looked bo, the chief architect grew
impatient again, and replied that Solomon was wise, but a builder must admit there
was a gap in his plans. By and by the king drew near in person ; with his retinue
he rode toectly to the incomplete spot, as if he there expected most to be pleased.
" Why is this neglect? *' he asked in tones of indignant surprise : *• where is the
piece I sent for the head of this comer?" Then suddenly the frightened workmen
bethought themselves of that rejected stone which they had been spurning as worth-
less. They sought it again, cleared it from its defilement, swung it fairly np into
its place, and found it was indeed the top-stone fitted so as to give the last grace to
the whole. 8. Thus Jesus also clinches His argument. He made His audience see
that He was fulfilling every necessity of the Messiah's office, and answering to every
prediction made of Him, even down to the receiving of the " rejection " at their
hands as they were now giving it to Him. They were educated in the ancient oracles
of God, and were wont to admit the bearing of every sentence and verse of prophecy.
And when this strange, intrepid Galilean asked them, ** Did ye never read in the
Scripture?" they saw that He knew His vantage wiUi the people, and would be
strong enough to hold it against their violence or treachery. ^ There was force in
argument when one brought up a text inspired. 4. Thus, likewise, our Lord en-
lightened their consciences. There is something more than logical defeat in their
manner after this conversation : there is spiritual dismay and consternation. " They
knew that He had spoken the parable against them." It was necessary to silence
this terrible voice of denunciation. (C, S. Robinson, D.D.) They toill reverence
My S(m : — ^A father may be sure that his son will be counted as standing for himself
in a peculiar sense ; and that all there is of gratitude or affection or reverence toward
himself will indicate itself in the reception and treatment of that son, wherever the
son goes as the father's representative. When the Grand Duke Alexis visited
America after our civil war, he was greeted with the liveliest expressions of interest
by young and old throughout the North, because of his father's sympathy with our
government in the hour of its need. The Prince of Wales, on his visit to this
country, was honoured as the representative of his royal mother; and the admira-
tion for her character as a woman was commingled with the respect for her as a
sovereign, in all the honours that were tendered to him wherever he moved. Any
father or any mother may always be sure that a real friend will be true to the
interests of a child of that parent, keenly alive to that child's welfare, and tenderly
sensitive to its comfort and good name, because it is that parent's child. God recog-
nized this truth when He sent His only Son into this world as His representative.
Whatever of real love for the Father there was among the sons of men, would be
sure to show itself wherever the Son was recognized. {H. Clay Trumbull.) Re-
jection of Christ a common, but most unreasonable iniquity : — There is no sin
more common or more pernicious in the Christian world than an unsuitable recep-
tion of Jesus Christ and the gospel. A soul that has the offer of Christ and thi
«HAP. xn.] 8T. MARK. 471
gospel, and yet neglects Him, 13 certainly in a perishing condition, whatever good
works, whatever amiable qualities or appearances of virtue it may be adorned with.
This was the sin of the Jews in Christ's time, and this brought temporal and
eternal ruin upon them. To represent this sin in a convictive light is the primary
design of this parable. But it will admit of a more extensive application. It reaches
as in these ends of the earth. However likely it be from appearances that the Son
of God will universally meet with an affectionate reception from creatures that
stand in such absolute need of Him, yet it is a melancholy, notorious fact that
Jesus Christ has but little of the reverence and love of mankind. The prophetical
character given of Him long ago by Isaiah still holds true. This is a most melan-
choly and astonishing thing ; it may spread amazement and horror through the
whole universe, but, alas 1 it is a plain fact. I. To show you what kind of becep-
TION WB MAY REASONABLY BE EXPECTED TO GIVE TO THE SON OP GoD. 1. We should give
Him a reception agreeable to the character which He sustains. (1) A Saviour in a
desperate case, a relief for the remediless, a helper for the helpless. (2) A great high
priest making atonement for sin. (3) A mediatorial king, invested with all the power
in heaven and earth, and demanding universal homage. (4) The publisher and the
brightest demonstration of the Father's love. And has He not discovered His own
love by the many labours of His life, and by the agonies and tortures of His cross?
^5) As able to save to the uttermost all that come unto God through Him, and as
willing as able, as gracious as powerful. (6) A great prophet sent to publish His
Father's will, to reveal the deep things of God, and to show the way in which guilty
sinners may be reconciled to God, A way which all the philosophers and sages of
antiquity, after all their perplexing searches, could never discover. (7) The august
character of supreme Judge of the quick and dead. Do not imagine that none are
<5oncemed to give Him a proper reception but those with whom He conversed in the
days of His flesh. He is an ever-present Saviour, and He left His gospel on earth in
His stead, when He went to heaven. It is with the motion of the mind and not of
the body that sinners must come to Him ; and in this sense we may come to Him
«s properly as those that conversed with Him. U, The reasonableness or the
EXPECTATION THAT WE SHOULD GIVB THE SoN OP GoD A WELCOME RECEPTION. Here
full evidence must strike the mind at first sight. Is there not infinite reason that
infinite beauty and excellence should be esteemed and loved ? that supreme
authority should be obeyed, and the highest character revered? Is it not reasonable
that the most amazing display of love and mercy should meet with the most
affectionate returns of gratitude from the party obliged, &o? In short, no man can
deny the reasonableness of this expectation without denying himself to be a
creature. III. To show how dippbbent a reception the Son of God oenbbally
MEETS WITH IN OUB WOULD, FBOM WHAT MIGHT REASONABLY BE EXPECTED. 1. Let me
put you all upon a serious search, what kind of reception you have given to Jesus
Christ. It is high time for you to inquire into your behaviour. 2. Is it not evident
that JesQS Christ has had but little share in your thoughts and affections ? 3. Is
Jesus Christ the favourite subject of your conversation t 4. Are not your hearts
destitute of His love ? If you deny the charge and profess that you love Him, where
ore the inseparable fruits and effects of His love ? 5. Have you learned to entrust
your souls in His hands, to be saved by Him entirely in His own way ? Or, do you
not depend, in part at least, upon your own imaginary goodness ? &o. Conclusion :
— 1. Do you not think that by thus neglecting the Lord Jesus, you contract the
most aggravated guilt? 2. Must not your punishment be peculiarly aggravated,
since it will be proportioned to your guilt ? 3. How do you expect to escape this
«ignal vengeance, if you still continue to neglect the Lord Jesus (Heb. ii. 3) ? 4.
If your guilt and danger be so great, and if in your present condition you are ready
every moment to be engulfed in everlasting destruction, does it become you to be so
easy and careless, so merry and gay ? (President Davieg.) Reverence claimed for
Christ : — The Saviour here applies an ancient prediction to Himself (ver. 10),
** And have ye not read," &c. Our present design is the consideration of the words
of our text as they will properly apply to us. I. The dignified chabacteb of
Christ. '• God's well-beloved Son." This representation presents Jesus to us. 1.
In His divine nature. 2. As the object of the Father's delight (Isa. xiii. 1 ; Jno.
xvii. 24). II. The mission op Christ. "He sent Him also." God had sent His
prophets and ministering servants to teach, to warn, and reveal His will to His
people ; but, last of all. He sent His Son. 1. From whence ? From His own
bosom (Jno. i. 18). 2. To whom was He sent ? To a world of sinners. 3. For
what was He sent ? To be the Saviour of the world ; to restore men to the favoui^
4T« THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap, xn
image, and enjoyment of God. (1) He came to destroy the works of the devil and
set up the kingdom of heaven on earth. (2) He was sent to illumine a dark world
by the doctrines of the gospel. (3) To recover an alienated world by His powex
and grace. (4) To redeem an accursed world by His death upon the cross. (5) To
purify a polluted world by His spirit and blood. III. The reverence God demands
ON behalf op His Son. Let us ascertain — 1. The manner in which this reverence
should be evinced. (1) By adoring love of His person. (2) By cheerful obedience
to His authority. (3) By studious imitation of His example. (4) By ardent zeal
for His glory ; making Christ's interest our own ; living to spread His name. 2.
The grounds of this reverence. (1) Think of the glory of His person. (2) The
'jurity of His character. (3) The riches of His grace. (4) The preciousness of His
benefits. (5) The terribleneBS of His wrath. Application : 1. Address sinners.
Kejection of Christ will involve you in endless wrath and ruin. 2. Saints. Aver
your reverence for Christ. Not only cherish it, but exhibit it. FearlesKly profess
Him before men, and ever live to the glory of His name. (J. Bums^ D.D.) The
reverence due to the Son of God : — I. It is reasonable He SHOuiiD be reverenced
on account of — 1. The dignity and authority of His Father. 2. Hxa inherent
excellencies. 3. His actual achievements. U. The reception which He met with.
III. The doom of those who disregard the Son. The ancient Jews who persisted
in their rebellion did not escape punishment. So all those who now reject the
offers of mercy and disregard the Son of God, will not escape punishment. IV.
Christ shall be reverenced. (G. Phillips.) The builders overruled by the
great Architect: — This is a striking though homely image applied to the most
wonderful of events. I. The blindness of the builders. The position which
the Jewish leaders occupied was a very honourable one. They were appointed
to build — to build up the Church. They have to deliberate and devise regard-
ing all that greatly pertained to the ecclesiastical life of the nation. But there
also lay their great responsibility. They might do a great service, putting Christ
into the place intended for Him; or they might do a great disservice, setting
Him aside, and putting Him in a false light before the nation. It unhappily turned
out in the latter way. And their crime is represented as a refusing of Him whom
God meant to be a chief comer-stone. And what made their conduct so crimina}
was that they acted against the light. H. The builders as overruled by the
GREAT Architect. It has always been matter for surprise how bad men get into
power. Never was human liberty brought into such antagonism to the Divine
sovereignty. It would have been a sad thing if their conduct had prevented the
building up of a Church. That, we know, could never be. This may be put on
the ground of the Divine purpose. Christ was the living stone, chosen of Grod.
But deeper than the purpose itself is the ground of the purpose in the character of
God, and the fitness of the stone for the place. He was a stone refused, disallowed.
But God was independent of them, and got others more humble than they, but more
in sympathy with the purpose. Ay, even they were taken up into the purpose as
unconscious, involuntary instruments. For it was in the very refusing of Him in
Hid death that Ho became chief comer-stone. They were thus doing what they
did not intend to do. And He rose triumphant out of their hands when they thonght
they had effectually secured Him in the tomb. HE. Let us draw somb lessons
FROM the theme. 1. Let us beware of self-deception, of blinding ourselves. These
rulers thought they were doing God service in what they did to Christ. If they
could so far deceive themselves who occupied so prominent a position in the Chorch^
have we not reason to be on our guard f 2. Let us beware of leaving out Christ.
8. Let us admire the placing of Christ as chief oomer-stone. 4. Let us remember
the way and glory of becoming living stones in the spiritual temple. 5. Let ns
consider the loss of not being living stones in this building. Our Lord has a com-
ment on these words, than which there is nothing more fearful : '* Whosover shall
fall," <fec. (R. Finlayson, B.A.) Rtjeeted and chosen: — I. The principle herb
ASSERTED. The quotatioH is from Fs. oxviii. 22, 23. 1. The intrinsic excellence of
a thing is not at all affected by its non-recognition. 2. The instrinsic excellence of
true principles enables them to b come, in spite of human contempt, true rulers of
the world and of life. 3. In their opposition to the true and the good, men know
not what they do. 4. We see now how God must make use of what seem the
nnlikeliest instruments for the realization of His gracious purposes. 5. The pro-
cesses of spiritual regeneration and new life are carried on by means of rejected
powers. II. The reaction of this principle upon the men of Christ's time.
*' They knew that H* had spoken the parable against them." They lost the Christ
n.] 8T, MARK. 473
ihey rejected. ** To him that hath shall be given,** &o. III. Thxrb lbm speciai.
XiKssoNS HBBB FOB THB MBN OF THE PBESENT AQB. 1. The poBsession of great privi-
leges and advantages is not to be regarded as exclnding moral abases and dangers.
2. Faithfulness to spiritual truth is the true life-giving and conservative force in
individual and national life. What is morally wrong can never be safe. 3. Personal
relations 'to the Christ determine destiny. ** Whosoever shall fall on this stone
shall be broken; but on whomsoever it shall fall it will grind him to powder." (TJie
Preacher's Monthly.) The rejected ttone : — God's truth overcoming human oppo-
sition : — There is a legend whi^ I have seen somewhere, which describes the origin
of the figure in this way : That at the building of the temple a stone was cut and
shaped in the quarries, of which the builders oould make no use. It lay about
during the period of the building, held by all to be a hindrance (a stone of stumbling),
but at the very last its place was found to be at the head of the corner, binding the
two sides together. And so the Father explains Christ the corner-stone, as binding
Jew and Gentile in one Church of God. It is very remarkable how often this has
been repeated in the history of the Church — how great religious movements have
been frowned down, if not actively opposed, by those in high places, which have
afterwards subdued all opposition. In our own times, in this very century, this has
occurred twice. First, the great evangelical movement in our Church was set at
naught by the builders, though it was the assertion of the primaiy truth of personal
religion — that each soul must have a personal apprehension of Christ, and look to
Him with the eye of a Hving faith ; and then the great Church movement was almost
unanimously rejected by the bishops between 1840 and 1850, though it was the
assertion of the truths patent through all the New Testament, that the Church,
though a visible organization, is the mystical body of Christ — that it is a super-
natural system of grace, and that its sacraments are the signs of grace actually
given in and with the outward sign. In neither of these cases did •• the builders '*
discern the strength of the principles asserted, and foresee that they must win their
way ; though the formularies of the Church, of which these builders were the ex-
ponents and guardians, assert very unmistakably both these truths in conjunction,
viz., spiritual apprehension of Christ, and sacramental union in His body. (M. F.
Sadler, M.A.) The head stone of the corner : — The Lord Jesus is — L A stonb :
No firmness but in Him. II. A fundamental stone : No building but on Him. III.
A cornbb stone : No piecing, or reconciliation, but in Him. {Anon.) They knew
that He had spoken. — A guilty conscience : — During the Protectorate, a certain knight
in the county of Surrey had a lawsuit with the minister of his parish ; and, whilst
the dispute was pending, Sir John imagined that the sermons which were delivered
in church were preached at him. He, therefore, complained against the minister
to Oliver Cromwell, who inquired of the preacher concerning it ; and, having found
that he merely reproved common sins, he dismissed the complaining knight, saying,
" Go home. Sir John, and hereafter live in good friendship with your minister ; the
Word of the Lord is a searching word, and it seems as if it had foond you oat 1 "
Yen. 13, 14. Catch Hlxn in His woTiM.Sasttm spies:— The ooursa pursued
by the enemies of our Lord does not seem strange to any one who knows any-
thing of the surveillance which a Hindoo uris establishes over any one whose
sayings or doings it may be of importance for him to know. For instance,
Major T , the agent for the Viceroy at the coort of the Nawab Moorshedabad,
complains that his house is as full of spies as it is of servants, nearly all of whom,
he suspects, are in the pay of the Nawab. One servant, who pretended not to know
a word of English, was discovered at length to know it well, and great was the
major's disgust at the discovery ; for this man was in attendance at the table, where
of course he would have ample opportunities of hearing his master's opinions ex-
pressed in all the confidence of social intercourse. One of the punkah-bearers, too,
was found to be a quite well-to-do man. His position was a most menial one, yet
its duties took him within sight and hearing of his master many times in the day.
It was suspected tbat the Nawab was making it worth his while to submit to the
drudgery of so mean a post. {A Missionary's Notes.) We know that Thou art
trae.— Concerned only to do right:—** What I must do," says Emerson, *• is all that
concerns me, and not what people think. This rule, equally arduous in actual and
In intellectual life, may serve for the whole distinction between greatness and mean-
ness. It is the harder because yon will always find those who think they know what
is your duty better than you know it. It is easy in the world to live after the world'a
opmion ; it is easy in solitude to look after your own ; but the great man is he who
474 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap, ot
in the midst of the crowd keeps with perfect sweetness the independence of solitnde."
Moral fearlessness : — In Scotland, Knox arose, of whom the Regent Morton said,
" Here lies one who never feared the face of man ; '• who said himself that *• he had
looked in the faces of many angry men." When he was working in chains on the
galleys in France, they brought him an image of the Virgin, and bade him worship
the mother of God. *♦ Mother of God," he exclaimed, " it is a pented bredd " (or
board), and he flung it into the river to sink or swim. ♦ ' Who are you f •' said Mary
Queen of Scots to him, " that presume to school the nobles and sovereign of this
realm ? " " Madam," he answers, •* a subject bom within the same." " Have you
hope ? " they ask him on his death-bed, when he can no longer speak ; and lifting
his hand he pointed upwards with his finger, and so, pointing to heaven, he died.
Ver. 16. But He knowing their hypocrisy. — Jffypocn«y;— Sir John Trevor, who
had for some misdemeanours been expelled from Parliament, one day meeting Arch-
oishop Tillotson, cried out, " I hate to see an Atheist in the shape of a Churchman."
" And I," replied the good Bishop, " hate to see a knave in any shape." {Clerical
Anecdotes.) Always a hypocrite : — The sincerity of his (the Emperor Alexius)
moral and religious virtues was suspected by the persons who had passed their lives
in his familiar confidence. In the last hours, when he was pressed by his wife
Irene to alter the succession, he raised his head and breathed a pious ejaculation
on the vanity of this world. The indignant reply of the Empress may be inscribed
as an epitaph on his tomb : "You die as you have lived — a hypocrite," (Gibbon.)
Bring Me a penny. — Lessons in the smallest things : — We may learn and be put in
mind of good and Christian duties by the smallest things that are in common use
amongst us ; «.flr., the very stamp of the coin or money which is in common circu-
lation may put us in mind of our duty of subjection and obedience to the prince and
to all lawful magistrates. So also the matter of the coin, whereof it is made, being
silver or gold, may remind us of God's goodness and bounty towards us, in affording
us such precious metals for our use and trading one with another. The meanest gar-
ment we wear may cause ns to think of our sins and be humbled for them, sin being
the first cause of nakedness appearing shameful. Every bit of meat or bread which
we eat may teach as the frailty of our bodies, which cannot be sustained without
such food. Every blade of grass in the field, and every flower in our garden may
put as in mind of oar mortality, and stir us np to prepare for death and judgment.
Hence, also, it is that the Scriptures send ns sometimes to brute beasts to learn our
dnties, as to the ox and the ass, and to the birds of the air, yea to such tiny creatures
as the ant. This leaves us without excuse if, having so many masters at hand and
near about ns continually to teach us and stir ns up to our duties, we yet io not
learn, or make conscience of what is required of ns. {G. Fetter.) The Roman
penny : — The silver penny was a coin a little larger tnan a sixpence, bat probably
equal to 48. or 5s. in purchasing power. In this coin the poll-tax — so much for
each man — was paid. Until very lately the Jews had had a Hebrew coinage, on
which no head was permitted (in deference to the second commandment), but which
carried the names of their ruler and their high priest. Even now the Herods issued
money of their own coinage. But since Judaea had been reduced to a province, the
Boman penny had been introduced, and was the coin legally demanded for payment
of taxes. Its use proclaimed who was master, as the head of Victoria on an Indian
rupee proclaims her ruler of India. Indeed, already it had become a maxim that
he is ruler whose coin is current in a land. It was not, therefore, an unsettled
question whether they would have the Romans for their rulers or not ; but they being
rulers — and any government being better than anarchy — were they at liberty to
withhold the amount needed for its fair support? {R. Glover.) Christ's victory
over cunning : — I. They take counsel. He is thoroughly armed. U. They would
entangle Him. He seeks to deliver them out of their own snare. III. They praise
Him in order to His destruction. He rebukes them, for their awakening and salva-
tion. {J. P. Lange^ D.D,) A penny : — A penny has two sides. As I hold it up
I see one and you the other. If I were to ask you what is represented on the coin, yoa
would say, A portrait of the Queen and some Latin. If I say what I see it is some-
thiog very different, it is a representation of Britannia and some English. Yon say
one thing and I say another. Now, suppose we were to wrangle abont it, and I
were to contradict yoa, and say, ** It is a falsehood ; I can see no likeness of the
Queen ; " and yon were to say, " You must be out of your senses ; I am sure then
is one ; " that would be very foolish. Yet that is about the way with one half of
the disputes amongst people. It is so with many religious controversies. And
n.] 8T, MARK, 47fi
with party feeling in politics. And with those qnarrels that take place in the family
or amongst friends. People cannot see both sides of the penny at once. Two per-
sons may have very different opinions on the same subject, and yet both be right.
Try and remember that when you look on a penny. Look at these two sides. On
the one is a portrait of the Queen. It has two inscriptions. Victoria D. G. : that
means by Divine grace. It is well to acknowledge that every blessing we have is
through the grace of God. Then we read, Britt. Keg. F. D. : that means Queen of
the Britains, or the British Islands, and Defender of the Faith. The double T
shows the plural/which in Latin is by doubling the last letter rather than adding S,
as in English. There is a beautiful story told of our Queen. When she was a little
girl, about twelve years of age, her tutors thought the time had come when she ought
to know that she might some day become Queen of this great and glorious nation
Into one of her lesson-books was put a paper which showed to her that it might be
so. On looking at it, she said, " I see I am nearer the throne than I thought."
'• So it is, madam,'* said her governess. After some moments' thought the Prin-
cess said, " Now, many a child would boast, but they don't know the difficulty.
There is much splendour, but there is more responsibility." Then she gave the
lady her hand, and said, •♦ I will be good." That was a noble resolve. None of
you can hope to gain an earthly crown, but you may each resolve, and solemnly
say, *• I will be good." Better be good than great, better be good than rich, better
be good than powerful, better be good than to sit on a throne. Best of all to have
the true goodness— that which comes from the love of the Lord Jesus Christ. On
the penny the crown is a crown of leaves. It is a fading crown. Jesus Christ has
promised to all who trust Him a crown of glory that fadeth not away. You cannot
be kings and queens here, but if you are amongst the followers of Christ you will
be grander in heaven than kings and queens. Of all things it is best to be a Christian.
The Lord said, " Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life."
Try and remember that when you look upon a penny. Look to the other side, and
consider the representation of Britannia. It is full of beautiful suggestfons of what
our nation should be. Let us consider the emblem, and we shall find it quite a
treasury of good ideas. Our country would be indeed great and glorious if every
British young person acted up to them. 1. She appears very calm, holding firm the
shield of faith in her right hand. On the shield are three crosses — the cross of St.
George of England, the cross of St. Andrew of Scotland, and the cross of St. Patrick
of Ireland. The true Christian, however, only lays hold of the one true cross— that
of Jesus Christ — and finds, resting upon that, a peace that passeth all understand-
ing. 2. She is clad from head to foot with a robe. This reminds us that by faith
in the Lord Christ the Christian has the robe of righteousness, which oovers
every defect. It is pure and white, and the wedding garment of the marriage supper
of the Lamb. The saints in glory are represented as having washed their robes and
made them white in the blood of the Lamb. 8. She holds her head erect, having
on the helmet. The Apostle speaks of the helmet of hope. Nothing can mora
enable us to lift up our heads and look out brightly than the hope of heaven. 4.
She is prepared for attack. She holds the very ancient weapon called the trident.
The Christian is surrounded by daoger, and always liable to the attacks of sin and
Satan, and should ever be on the guard, and the old weapon of the Word of God is
the best after all. Whilst resting on faith, wearing the robe of righteousness, and
lifting up the head with hope, there must be the preparation for conflict : Jesus Christ
bid all His followers «* Watch." There are two other beautiful emblems of the
Christian hero. One is a lighthouse. This is a tall column placed in a dangerous
part of the ocean, in which there is a powerful light. That shines out into the
darkness, and so guides vessels safely into the harbour. Thus the Christian is to
show the light of the knowledge of Jesus Christ, and help souls to avoid dangerous
rocks and to find the way to heaven. On another part of the coin is a ship in full
sail. That, too, is an emblem of the Christian. He leaves the port of this world ;
he takes Christ for his captain ; he sails through perils and dangers, through sun-
shine and storm, but reaches at last the desired haven. Try and remember these
truths when you look upon a penny. Thus I have endeavoured to give you some of
the important lessons which Jesus taught, and to illustrate them by a penny, so
that when yon look at a penny you may remember some of these truths you ought
ever to have in mind. There are many others which might be considered if time
permitted, and which you may well discover for yourselves. I conclude by giving
70a * very beantifnl old Babbinical legend taken from the Talmud :~
4Y« THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [osat. xo.
** From the mint two bright, new pennies oftmt,
The value and beauty of both the same ;
One slipt from the hand, and fell to the groand»
Then rolled out of sight and could not be foimd*
The other was passed by many a hand,
Through many a change in many a land ;
For temple dues paid, now used in the mart*
Now bestowed on the poor by a pitying heart.
At length it so happened, as years went roi
That the long-lost, unused coin was found.
Filthy and black, its inscription destroyed
Through rusting peacefully unemployed ;
Whilst the well-worked coin was bright and i
Through active service year after year ;
For the brightest are those who live for dnty — .
Bast more than rubbing will tarnish beauty." (/. H, Oooht^
Yer. 17. Render to Caesar the things that are Cesar's, and to Gtod the things that
are (Sod's. — Our obligations to God and man: — The spirit of the passage requires
us to regard the rights of all beings as sacred, and to give to them all that is
theirs. I. What is due to God ? Or what are the things, the property of God,
which our Saviour here requires us to render to Him ? "The earth is the Lord's,** Ac.
Of course we, and all that we possess, are God's property. More particularly —
1. Our souls with all their faculties. 2. Our bodies. 3. Our time. 4. All our
knowledge and literary acquisitions. 5. Our temporal possessions. 6. Our in-
fluence. He, then, who withholds from God any of these things, or any part of
them, does not comply with the precept in the text. II. What things abb dub
FBOM UB TO MEN ? 1. All men have a right to our love. 2. To all whom Chod has
made our superiors we owe obedience, submission and respect. 3. To our inferiors
we owe kindness, gentleness and condescension. 4. Those of us who are members
of Christ's visible church, owe to each other the performance of all the duties
which result from our connection. 6. There are some things which we owe our
families and connexions. As husbands and vidves. Improvement : 1. How great,
how inconceivable is the debt which we have contracted both to God and to men I
2. Our need of an interest in the Saviour, and the impossibility of being saved
without Him We evidently cannot discharge our past debts. In Christ is there
help. He becomes surety for aU who believe in Him. And do not reason, conscience,
and a regard to our own happiness, combine with Scripture in urging us to accept the
offers of this Divine benefactor, and, constrained by His love, to live henceforth to
Him, and not to ourselves? (Br. Pay son). God before Casar: — Frederio, the
Elector of Saxony, who, being prisoner to Charles V., was promised enlargement
and restitution of dignity, if he would come to mass. " Summum in ttrris dominum
agnosco Casarem, in codis Deum." — "In all civil accommodations I am ready to
yield onto Ceesar, but for heavenly things I have but one Master, and therefore I
dare not serve two : Christ is more welcome to me in bonds, than the honours of
CsBsar without Christ. {Dictionary of Illustrations.) An offence against Casar: —
A boy about nine years of age, who attended a Sabbath-school at Sunderland,
requested his mother not to allow his brother to bring home anything that wa»
smuggled when he went to sea. "Why do you wish that, my child?" said the
mother. He answered, "Because my catechism says it is wrong." The mother
replied, *'But that is only the word of a man.*' He said, "Mother, is it the
word of a man which said, 'Bender onto Ctesar the things that are Caasar's?''
This repl;^ entirely silenced the mother ; bat his father, stiU attempting to defend
the practice of smuggling, the boy said to him, '* Father, whether is it worse to
rob one or to rob many ? ** By these qaestions and answers, the boy silenced both
his parents on the subject of smuggling* (Biblical Museum.)
Vera. 18, 27. In the resorrection. — More in Scripture than at ftrst appears : —
These words of Christ show us how much more there is in Scripture than at first
sight appears. God spoke to Moses in the bush, and c^ed EUmself the God of
Abraham ; and Christ tells us, that in this simple announcement was contained the
promise, Uiat Abraham should rise again from the dead. In truth, if we may say
it with reverence, the All-wise All-knowing God cannot speak, withoat meaning
many things at once. He sees the end from the b^;inning ; He understands the
OHAT. raj ST. MARK. 477
aamberless connections and relations of all things one with another. Every word
of His is full of instruction looking many ways ; and, though it is not often given
to as to know these various senses, and we are not at liberty to attempt lightly to
imagine them, yet, as far as they are told us, and as far as we may reasonably
infer them, we must thankfully accept them. (J. H. Newman.) Christ's proof
of immortality : — Christ raises the question : Gould God call Himself Abraham's
Ood if He had permitted his hopes to be disappointed, and his whole life to be dis-
sipated by the touch of death ? Whatever we love we seek to keep alive, and, if
Ood loved Abraham, would He let him die ? If the Sadducee was right, Abraham
was at the time a handful of desert dust in which certainly God could take no
peculiar interest. The fact that man can engage the interest of God, speak to
Him, enter into covenant with Him ; be beloved, embraced, protected by God, is
the proof of immortality. Because God lives, he will live also whom God loves.
There are many arguments that go to prove immortality, but this is chief, that God
loves man, delights in him, and would be Himself bereaved, and spend a desolate
€temity, if death robbed Him of the spirits that trust Him. {R. Glover). The
error of the Sadducees : — 1. Knowledge of the Scriptures may be very superficial.
■2. Christ shows us how to conduct controversy. 3. Jesus enlarges our thoughts
of what life is. 4. We are not to measure the unseen by the seen. 6. We cannot
ignore one truth without danger of losing our hold on othets. 6. The future life
differs from the present (1) In its constitution ; (2) in its blessedness. 7. A higher
existence hereafter suggests the folly of expecting perfection here. 8. Oar friends,
who " sleep in Jesus " are not dead. {F. Wagstaff.) Materialism and the
Resurrection : — I. The abodment. It may be presented in three aspects. 1. After
the three patriarchs were dead, and had been in the grave for centuries, God spoke
of Himself as their Gk)d. If the words assume their then conscious existence as
spirits, then it followed (1) that the negative portion of the system of the Sadducees
was destroyed. There are spiritual existences. 2. Supposing they do not exist in
a state of consciousness, still God considers Himself as sustaining relations to
them ; He is their God. This, again, disposes of materialistic Sadduceeism. For
Ood cannot sustain that relationship to what has been annihilated — to what has
ceased to be — to nothing. 3. The emphasis may be put on the term " God." *' I
«m the God," <&o. What is it to be God to a being who has a religions nature, is
capable of worship and happiness through Divine relations ? How had He shown
them He was their God ? He called, led, educated, tried them, and taught them
to rest implicitly on His word. He promised them a wonderful possession. What
eeemed to be conveyed by the words was never aotoaUy enjoyed. Yet they lived in
<aith, and died in the exercise of this faith — that in bestowing this possession He
would prove Himself to be their God. If the Saddnoees were right, there was an
end of them and of the Divine faithfulness. It was a oommencement without
a conclusion, a porch without a temple, a beginning of promise without the
termination. U. Now, this bubjbot will oast xjoht upon two othebs.
1. The manner in which Christ threw light upon the future condition of
man. He did not bring life and immortality to light as a new thing. There
were indications of it in the ancient Choroh. He brought out in distinct-
fiess, and clearness, and fulness what was involved in mist and fog. Speaking
with Divine authority, (1) He took the affirmatiTe side— always took it;
resisted the objectors, threw against them arguments from the power of God,
and the Scriptures of God. (2) He raised men from the dead. (3) He threw
light upon the resurrection — the life of men in glory — long after their bodies had
passed away. (4) Then He illustrated and embodied in His own Person everything
He taught. He died, was buried, was raised, was changed, was glorified. (5) Bat
greatest of all, by His redemptive work He shows how all could be done according
to, and in harmony with, the principles of the Divine government, and the per-
fection of God's nature. 2. Light is cast upon the state of the pious and holy
dead. They live. Martyred saints committed their spirits to the Lord Jesus. L
If men choose to live " without God " here, they will find hereafter that there is a
sense in which the actual relation between Him and them has not been destroyed.
% The dignity and glory of a religions life. They are to be clorious immortals
who love God, cherish religious faith, cultivate acquaintance with the Infinite, and
walk in holy obedience. The character of faithful worshippers is to be i>erpetuated
and beoome eternal. 8. It is of infinite importance that all possess this Divine faith,
and liTO the real life based upon the truth of God and the Gospel of Christ. {Thomat
Bifnaejf.) ImmortaUtif and lave : — I nerer saw a man that did not believe in the
478 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [ofa». xu.
immortality of love when following the body of a loved one to the grave. I have
Been men under other circumstances that did not believe in it ; but I never saw a
man that, when he stood looking upon the form of one that he really loved stretched
out for burial, did not revolt from saying, " It has all come to that : the hours of
sweet companionship ; the wondrous interlacings of tropical souls, the joys, the
hopes, the trusts, the unutterable yearnings — there they all lie." No man can
stand and look in a cofiQn upon the body of a fellow-creature, and remember the
flaming intelligence, the blossoming love, the whole range of Divine faculties which
so lately animated that cold clay, and say, " These have all collapsed and gone."
No person can witness the last sad ceremonials which are performed over the
remains of a human being — the sealing down of the unopenable lid, the following
of the rumbling procession to the place of burial, the letting of the dust down into
dust, the falling of the earth upon the hoUow coHn, with those sounds that are
worse than thunder, and the placing of the green sod over the grave — no person,
unless he be a beast, can witness these things, and then turn away and say, " I
have buried my wife ; I have buried my child ; I have buried my sister, my brother,
my love." {H. W. Beecher.) A type of the Resurrection: — One bright summer
day I stood beside a large water-butt, watching the insect life which skimmed its
surface and the lower forms of life which revelled and rejoiced in its depths.
Whilst thus engaged, I saw a little creature, in the shape of a worm, come up with
zig-zag course apparently from the bottom of the butt to its surface. There was a
little agitation — the shell broke, and a bright and beautiful insect flew away towards
heaven. To my apprehension that was the most beautiful type of the resurrection
I ever beheld, and thus has our gracious God filled all nature with appropriate and
instructive emblems of the glorious doctrine of the resurrection. {S. Cocki.)
The Resurrection: — In Dr. Brown's work on the resurrection, their is a beautiful
parable from Halley. The story is of a servant, who, receiving a silver cup from his
master, suffers it to fall into a vessel of aquafortis, and, seeing it disappear, con-
tends in argument with a fellow-servant that its recovery is impossible, until the
master comes on the scene, and infuses salt water, which precipitates the silver
from the solution ; and then, by melting and hammering the metal, he restores it
to its original shape. With this incident a sceptic — one of whose great stumbling-
blocks was the resurrection — was so struck, that he ultimately renounced his oppo-
sition to the gospel, and became a partaker of the Christian hope of immortality.
(S. S. Teacher.) Heaven will reveal itself: — John Bunyan was once asked a ques-
tion about heaven which he could not answer, because the matter was not revealed in
the Scriptures ; and he thereupon advised the inquirier to live a holy life and go and
see. {Christian Age). Progressive knowledge of the Bible : — It is curious to compare
old and new maps, and to mark the progress of discovery. The black space oJ
ocean is followed by a faint outline of a few miles of coast, marking the termination
of an intrepid voyage. Then further portions of the same coast are laid down at
intervals as supposed islands. Then by and by these portions are connected, and
the outline of a great continent begins to be developed. The "undiscovered"
passes into the region of the known and familiar. Thus it is with the Bible.
What progress is being made in the discovery of its meaning ! How much better
acquainted is the Church of Christ now with its spirit, its allusions, its inner and
outer history, than the same church during a former period ! What a far more true
and just idea of the mind of Christ, as manifested in and by the Apostolic Church,
have we now than the Church of the fourth and fifth centuries possessed 1 Distance
has increased the magnitude, the extent, the totality, the grandeur in the heaven-
kissing mountain range. Individually I find in daily study of the Bible a daily
discovery. What was formerly unknown becomes known, and what seemed a soli-
tary coait becomes a part of a great whole, and what seemed wild and strange and
lonely becomes to me green pasture and refreshing water — the abode of my fireside
affections. And surely I shall read the Bible as an alphabet in heaven. It was my
first school-book here, and I hope it will be my first there. What ! shall I never
know the Spirit which moves the wheels, whose rims are so high that they are
dreadful ? The only true theory of development is the development of the spiritual
eye for the reception of that light which ever shineth. {Norman Maeleod, D.D.) Our
knowledge of the future state imperfect : — Whatever correct ideas we have about the
heavenly state, are of course derived from the revelation God has made. And yet
from the very nature of the subj ct our ideas must necessarily be vagne, and per-
haps even incorrect. The infon ation may be, and doubtless is, the very best God
•oold give na ; bat the nnsatisf ctoriness of it clearly remains, just because tb*
xn.J ST, MARK. 479
Bubject is BO far beyond oar present attainments and conceptions. It is like talking
of the higher mathematics to a child who has only begun to comprehend the simplest
relations of nmnbers, and to whom the multiplication table is an ** Ultima Thule."
{Christian World Pulpit.) Like the angels ;— The children of God, in the
resurrection, our Saviour says, shall be equal to the angels ; or, perhaps, more
properly, they shall be Uke the angels in attributes, station, and employments.
Like the angels, they will possess endless youth, activity, power, knowledge, and
holiness; enjoy the same immortal happiness, dignity, and Divine favour; be lovely,
beautiful, and glorious in the sight of God, and " shine forth as the son in the
kingdom: of their Father." Like the angels, shall they be sons, and kings, and
priests to God, and live and reign with Him for ever and ever. {Pres. Dwight.)
Individual relation to God : — In our mysterious being we have a double existence ;
we are part of a body, and God deals with men collectively as communities : yet
also we are as much single spirits as if we were alone in the world, each running
separately and apart its individual course. To teach men from the first the awful,
the difficult truth, that they have each of them a soul — this was the meaning of
that discipline of Abraham and the Patriarchs ; and the whole history has shown
how necessary it was. The visible world is all about us, early and late, wrapping
US around, occupying eye and thought and desire ; we seem to belong to it, and to
it alone ; it seems as if we must take our chance with it. And, on the other hand,
we know how easily men come to think that being one of a body — even though it
were the *' seed of Abraham," or "the Church of Christ" — made it less necessary to
remember their personal singleness, their personal responsibility. To belong to a
** good set," to a religious family, seems to give us a security for ourselves ; in-
sensibly, perhaps, we take to ourselves credit for the goodness of our friends, we
look at ourselves as if we must be what they are. The soul has indeed to think and
to work with others and for others, and for great aims and purposes, out of and be-
yond itself. For others, and with others, the best parts of its earthly work is done.
But first, the soul has to know that sublime truth about itself: that it stands before
the Everlasting by itself, and for what it is. Abraham learned it, like Moses, like
Elijah, like Isaiah, like St. Paul : in Job and the Psalter we see the early fruits of
that discipline. The soul knew itself alone with God ; no words could tell the in-
communicable secret of the presence of God ; and in that secret was wrapped up
the seed of its conviction of its mysterious immortality — " God is not the God of
the dead, but of the living." This is the first lesson of the masters of the
spiritual life. This is the first opening of the eyes to the reaUty of religion,
when it comes upon us in our heart of hearts, in the deep certainties of conscience,
that in spite of all that fills the eye and is not ourselves, there is ourself and there
is God; and we begin by degrees, as it has been said, to perceive that there
are but two beings in the whole universe — two only supreme and luminously self-
evident beings — our own soul, and the God who made it. {Dean Church.) As
the angels. — Employment in heaven: — What shall we do in heaven? Well,
our employments will accord with our state and disposition. Some one of you may
perhaps be an artist. Now to paint a fine picture to hang npon somebody's wall
on earth is accounted a great thing. Pooh ! In heaven, your canvas shall be a
soul, and your picture a loving spirit which tinder your guidance shall become
a being of grace and beauty for evermore. On earth, an artist genersdly paints to
make himself a name and earn both money and glory, bat in heaven the object
and aim of an artist shall be, " Oh, that I might train this soul to be Uke Christ I
Oh, that my work might glorify God I " Some one else here may, I think, be an
architect in heaven, not with bricks, stone, mortar, ladders, and rubbish. No ;
you build houses here ; there you shall build human souls into angels. If life in
heaven is to be as the angels, we have the joy of knowing that useful and congenial
occupation will be our lot. (TT. Birch.) Congenial occupation in heaven : — A lad,
who served as a milk-vendor, stood one day in Antwerp cathedral before the glorious
picture by Rubens of the bringing down of Christ from the cross. The boy drank
in all the beauty of the painting as if it were a thing of life; and it seemed as if
the hunger in his soul were satisfied while he gazed upon the marvellous glory of
that scene. At length, he turned away with a sigh in his heart, but a light in his
eye, saying, •* I, also, have in me the soul ol a painter I " But he was only a poor
boy, who went with a dog and a little cart carrying milk-cans from the country to the
people of Antwerp. In his soul he said, " I in soul am an artist ! " But he had
to go back to his dog and cart and milk cans, and that sort of humdrum work con-
tinoed to be his d!aily employment, antil having lost his living through a false
480 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap, ma,
accnsation, and he and his dog being refused bread, they wandered up and down in
the cold of the winter until one day they found themselves weary and starving al
the door of the cathedral. The poor boy, with the soul of an artist, followed by his
dog, more faithful to him than men and women, walked up titie grand aisle of the
cathedral, and stood before the glorious picture of Christ. Being weary, he lay
down, when the poor dog crouched close to his starving master to warm him, and
the boy kissed the head of the faithful beast and fixed his eyes on the sacred canvas.
In the morning, the people found a boy and dog both dead, and clasped together.
He had the soul of a painter, but he was poor and cold and hungry, yet he died
feeling the love of his dog and beholding the picture whose glory had inspired his
soul. And the people wept, and mourned over the poor boy whose circumstances
had prevented the realization of his heart's desire. In the other world there will
be no obstruction to lawful desires, and the possibilities of the human heart shall
be granted. Every one of us shall have our opportunity of congenial employment.
That which is within the soul and forms our real nature shall come out and have
an opportunity of being employed in the service of God and mankind. A man
with a musical soul one day went into a shop where he saw a beautiful violin for
sale, and with all the money he had, he bought it. He came exultingly out of the
shop the possessor of the glorious instrument. Then somebody said to him, •• My
friend, where is the bow?" He had the fiddle, but he had no bow. In a cor-
responding way, many of you have the violin in your nature, the capacity for har-
mony, but circumstances are against you ; you cannot realize your earnest resolves
because there is something wanting. You were meant to be a poet, and yet are,
perhaps, a bricksetter; or you were made to be an artist, and may be only a
ohinmey-sweep ; or you may have the instincts of an engineer, and yet are pro-
bably chained to a desk in some dingy office, or may be a shoemaker sitting at a
stall all day mending boots. These are some of the disciplinary contradictions of
this life, where round people are continually found in square holes, and square
people in round holes. But in the better land all these " odds " shall be made
•♦ even," and an opportunity given to every one to bring out that which God has
put within us, and we shall be and do that which harmonizes with our angelio
nature and inclination. (Ibid.) Leisure in heaven : — Most earnest men are too
busy in this world to find time to really live and know themselves. They are too
much engrossed in the " maddening maze " of things to " watch and pray " and
practise self-examination. They are like a steamer which is of excellent build and
power of speed, and which is so profitable to its owners that they send it about from
port to port and never put it into harbour to survey and restore it ; and at length
when stress of weather comes, the beautiful, powerful steamer gives way and sinks.
Thousands of business men are like that steamer ; they perish for want of over-
hauling and renovation. They are too busy to think of God, and death, and
judgment. They are too busy to do a good deed in any way except putting their
hand into their pocket to give something to a charitable institution, or throwing a
copper to some unfortunate beggar. In the other world these over-busy men will
have time to think of God and of themselves. The life of the other world will
without doubt be progressive. Progress or development is the law of creation.
There is progress on earth, and there will be progress in heaven. Your life is to
be as a pure river which cannot be defiled or overshadowed by evil. We shall have
to learn to forgive, learn to be pure, learn to be loving, learn to be kind. Have yon
learned these things on earth? Not fully; but you are trying to learn them ; if so,
you shall be as the angels and finish your education in heaven. There has been
only One who went perfect into heaven. That perfect being was Jesas, and He has
promised that His Spirit shall be with every one who desires to follow Him.
(Ibid.)
Ver. SO. And tbon shalt Ioto the Lord thy God with an thy heart.— Lov« to Ood
Becures all blessings : — " Love not pleasure," says Garlyle ; " love God. This the
Everlasting Yea wherein all contradiction is solved ; wherein he who so walks and
works, it is well with him." Love to Ood contrasted loith not loving Him : — Man
not loving God, not looking upward and outward, becomes sensual. He spends
his time in feeding his body, in satisfying his appetites, in grovelling in the dust,
m joining himself to earth, that God made simply for his footstool and his path-
way, and he forgets the realm of empire over nature, and over ideas, and over
thoughts, that God opens out before him ; and hence, without love of Ood, man is
the animal ; with love to God, he is the seraph ; without love to God, he lives for
mur. m.] ST. MARK, 481
his appetites and is debased ; with love to God, he lives in His afteotions and rises
toward glory ; without love to God, he crawls like the worm ; with love to God. be
soars like the seraph, flames like the cherubs ; without love to God, he goes down
ward until he is ready to make his bed with demons ; with love to God, he rises
above angels and archangels, and is preparing for the throne of God. {Buhop
Simpson.) Love to God the tupreme feeling : — A man may be weary of life, but
never of Divine love. EUstories tell us of many that have been weary of their lives,
but no histories can furnish us with an instance of any one that was ever weary of
Divine love. As the people prized David above themselves, saying, " Thou art
worth ten thousand of us ; " so they that indeed have God for their portion, oh,
how do they prize God above themselves, and above eveiything below themselves I
and, doubtless, they that do not lift up God above all, they have no interest in God
at all. (Thomas Brooks.) The great commandment: — ^Whan Tom Paine, the
man who did so much mischief years ago in spreading infldel opinions, and making
our Bible a laughing-stock, resided in New Jersey, he was one day passing the
house of Dr. Staughton, when the Doctor was sitting at the door. Paine stopped,
and after some remarks of a general character observed, ** Mr. Staaghton, what a
pity it is that a man has not some comprehensive and perfect rule for the govern-
ment of hii life." The Doctor replied, •• Mr. Paine, there is such a rule." " What
is that ? " Paine inquired. Dr. Staughton repeated the passage, " Thou shalt love
the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and thy neighbour as thyself." Abashed and
confounded, Paine replied, " Oh, that's in your Bible," and immediately walked
away. The great commandment from which the infidel turned away, is the rule
which Christians accept, love, and try to obey. The nature of our love to Christ :—
I. It must be sincere, with all the heart. U. Intelligent, with all the mind. m.
Emotional, with all the soul. IV. Intense and energetic, with all the strength.
(C. H. Spurgeon.) The two great commandments : all true love is one : — The first
commandment is very great, but the second is not little. They are upper and
nether pools, and the same fountain fills them. He who is richest in the love of
God has the greatest advantage for loving his neighbour— for loving his family, his
household, his country, and the world. And that is the best and happiest state of
things, the primal and truly natural, where, springing from under the throne of
God, with a bright and heaven-reflecting piety, love fills the upper pool, and then,
through the open flower-frin^ed channel of filial affection and the domestic chari-
ties, flows softly till it agam expands in neighbourly kindness and unreserved
philanthropy. The channel may be choked. The devotee may close it up in the
nope of raising the level in the first and great reservoir, and by arresting the
eorrent he causes an overflow and converts into swamp the surrounding garden.
In the same way the materialist or worldling, content with the lower pool, may fill
op the condoit, and declare that he is no longer dependent on the upper magazine;
but from the isolated cistern quickly evaporates the scanty supply, and thick with
elime, weltering with worms, the stagnant residue mocks the thixsty owner, or, as
over the babbling malaria he persists to linger, it fills his frame with the mortal
poison. Cut ofl from living water, receiving from on high no consecrating element,
hnnuui ft£fection is too sure to end in the disgust of a disappointed idolatry or the
mad despair of a total bereavement ; whilst the mystic theopathy, which in order
to give the whole heart to God gives none to its fellows, will soon have no heart at
all. Love is of God, and all true love is one. The piety which is not humane will
Boon grow superstitious and gloomy ; in cases like Donunic and Philip H. we see
that it may soon grow bloodthirsty and cruel; nor, on the other hand, will brotherly
love long continue if the love of God is not shed abroad abundantly. (Hamilton.)
Supreme love to Qod impossible without a Saviour : — The Bev. M. Jeanmarie, a
widely known French Protestant pastor, has recently passed away. The story of
his oonversion appears in the continental journals, and is a fine example of the
power of the Word of God. He was at the time a preceptor in a family of the
Eonee of Hohenlohe and » rationalist. A neighbouring preacher asked him to
supply for hiuL He declined on the plea of " How could he preach what he did
not believe ? " " What I not believe m God ? " " Yes, I do that" " And surely
you believe that man should love Him ? " ** Doubtless." *' Well, then, preach on
the words of Jesus, * Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and
mind, and strength.* " ** I will try, just to oblige you." He thought over the
words, and took note : — " 1. We must love God, and the reasons thereof. 2. We
must love Him with all our powers in very deed; nothing short of this could satisfy
Ood. 8. But do we thus love Godf . . ." " No ! ** and then said he, ** Withoot any
81
483 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [cha». zn.
previonsly formed plan I was brought to add, * We need a Saviour.* At that moment
a new light broke upon my soul ; 1 understood that I had not loved God, that I needed
a Saviour, that Jesus was that Saviour : and I loved Him and clung to Him at once.
On the morrow I preached the sermon, and the third head was the chief — via.,
the need of Jesus, and the necessity of trusting to such a Saviour." {Chrittian Age,)
The properties of love : — Because many deceive themselves in thinking that they
love God, when they do not, it is needful to set down the marks of the true love of
God, by which we may ascertain whether it be in us or not. The principal are
these: 1. A deliberate preferring and esteeming of God above all things in the
world, though never so excellent or dear to us. 2. A desire to be united and joined
to God in most near communion with Him, both in this life and the next. 3. A
high estimation of the special tokens and pledges of God's love to us— the JBible,
Sacraments, &c. 4. A conscientious care to obey God's will, and to serve and
honour Him in our calling. 5. Joy and delight in the duties of God's service and
worship. 6. Zeal for God's glory, causing in us a holy grief and indignation when
we see or hear that God is dishonoured by sin. 7. Love is bountiful, making us
willing and ready to give and bestow much upon the person we love. 8. True love
to the saints and children of God. (G. Fetter.) Love to God and men :—M&n'a
life, rightly ordered, revolves, like the earth upon which he dwells, upon an axis
with two fixed poles. That axis is love, and the poles are God and man. The love
thus defined and exercised fulfils the whole law. It embraces in its scope all of
man's duties, religious and moral. Consider — I. The nature of this love. 1. An
affection of the soul. 2. An all-inclusive affection, embracing not only every other
affection proper to its object, but all that is proper to be done to its object.^ 3. The
most personal of all affections. One may fear an event, hope for and rejoice in it ;
but one can love only a person. 4. The tenderest, most unselfish, most divine of
all affections. Such is that axial principle, on which man's Ufe, when obedient to
God, revolves. It reminds us of that great discovery of the age, which has traced
the various powers of nature— light, heat, electricity, Ac. — back to one great original
force, frorii which they all spring and into which they are convertible. Like the
mythic Proteus, that force changes its form according to the exigency of the time,
now appearing as heat, then as light, then as magnetism, then as motion — so this
love, which is the fulfilment of the law, is at the basis of all acts of piety and of
all forms of virtue (1 Cor. xiii.). II. The object of this love. 1. God is the
first and supreme object. 2. True love of God begets love to man. The lattcor,
resulting from the former, must needs occupy a subordinate position. The foontain
is higher than the stream, and includes it. IIL The deoreb in whioh this lov*
TO God should be exercised. It should not be a languid affection, but one in
whioh all the powers of man's nature are engaged. The various parts of our com-
plex being are summoned to contribute their utmost force to the formation of it.
1. With the heart : perfectly hearty and sincere. 2. With the soul : ardent — full
of warmth and feeling. 3. With the mind : intelligent. God does not want fanatical
devotion. 4. With the strength : energetic and intense. In a word, our love to
God is to be of tiie most earnest, real, and vital sort ; one into which we are to put
the whole of our being, as a plant puts into its flower the united forces of root and
leaf and stem. IV. This love is possible only through Christ. He reveals to
us the almighty, incomprehensible Creator, who would otherwise be to us a mere
abstraction. V. False and true manifestations of this love. 1. Take care not to
let it become a matter more of outward form than of inward reality. 2. The real
proof of love is its willingness to make sacrifices for the sake of its object. {A. H.
Currier.) The mind's love .-—The love of God fills the mind, when knowledge
gatheretn all things with reference to God ; when speculation ever weigheth the
things of God with the things of men; when imagination compareth all things with
the things of God ; when memory storeth in her treasure things of God, new and
old; when the thoughts ever turn to God, as their end; when all studies are in God,
and there is no study whioh hath not God for its end. We are always thinking of
something, at all times, and in all places ; we can behold no object in the earth
or sky, but thought is busy with the same. The thoughts are according to the
heart. If one might say it with reverence, as angelic ministrations execute God's
will, BO are the thoughts to the heart and soul of man ever busy traversing and
retnming, through earth and heaven, as the heart wills. And these, in the good
yn^w^ are ever full of God. {Isaac Williams^ M. .\ Love .-—Observe that love
is not merely one way of fulfilling the Law. Iti the best way. Far better to love
A man to mnoh that to steal from him would be impossible, than merely to refrain
n.] 8T. MARK, 48a
from stealing in obedience to the Eighth Commandment. Nay, more, it is the only
way. One who would steal, but for his sense of its being forbidden, and therefore
wrong, already sins against his neighbour by breaking the Tenth Commandment.
1. Love brings all the powers of man's soul into interior harmony. 2. It begets
obedience, both inward and outward. 8. It begets a strong desire after God. 4. It
finds God in everything. 6. It is the mainspring of the soul, controlling hands,
feet, eyes, lips, brain, life. {Anon.) Love i$ the most important thing: —
" Father," asked the son of Bishop Berkeley, " what is the meaning of the words
* cherubim ' and • seraphim,' which we meet with in the Bible ? " '• Cherubim," re-
plied his father, "is a Hebrew word signifying knowledge; seraphim is another
word of the same language, signifying flame. Whence it is supposed that the
cherubim are angels who excel in knowledge ; and that the seraphim are angels like-
wise who excel in loving God." "I hope, then," said the little boy, "when
I die I shall be a seraph, for I would rather love God than know all things."
The fint and great commandment: — I. Whether wb are possessed of this supreme
I.OVB TO God T A sincere love manifests itself by approbation, preference, delight,
familiarity. Do these terms express the state of our affections towards our
heavenly Father f 1. Do we cordially approve all that the Scriptures reveal con-
cerning His character and His dealings with men ? 2. Approbation, however, is the
very lowest token of this Divine affection. What we really love we distinguish by a
decided preference : we have compared it with other things, and have come to the
conclusion that it is more excellent than all of them. 3. Further, the love of God
will lead us to delight in Him. 4. I wiU mention but one more sign of love
unfeigned ; which is seen when a person courts the society and familiar intimacy
of the object of his affections. U. By what means a spirit op lovb to God may be
AOQUntED, IP WE HAVE IT NOT, OB INCREASED, IP WB HAVE. 1. The first Stcp is tO fccl
our utter deficiency in this duty. 2. Take up your Bible, and learn the character
of Him whom you have so neglected. 3. These views of the love of God, however,
will, in great measure, be ineffectual, till you have actually cast yourself at the foot
of the cross, and believed in Jesus Christ for the justification of your own souL 4.
My next direction for cherishing this spirit of love to God is, that you should care-
fully guard against everything in your temper and conduct which might grieve the
Spirit of God. 6. I would press upon you the necessity of frequent communion
with your reconciled God in prayer and thanksgiving. (Joseph Jotcett^ M.A.)
Love to God : — I. A true love to God has three principal coNSTrniENT parts. 1.
The love of desire, which takes its origin from the wants of man, and the fitness
and willingness of God to supply them. 2. The love of gratitude, arising from
the sense of the Divine gootkiess to us. 8. A disinterested love, having as its
foundation the excellence and perfection of God considered in themselves, and
without any reference to the advantages we derive from them. II. The measure
OF DiYiNB LOVB. 1. That WO must love God supremely above any other object. 2.
With all the ardour and intensity of our soul. {H. Kollock, D.D.) The life of
Christian consecration : — I. The character op this lovb. The whole man must be
enlisted in our love of God ; all the force o"! our life must go to express and to fulfil
it. 1. God claims from us a warm personal affection. 2. God must be loved for
His moral excellence. Not only must our conscience approve our affection ; it will
be ever supplying us with new material for exalted worship of Him. The sense of
righteousness will kindle gratitude into adoration. 8. God claims from us an
intelligent affection. Our intelligence must have full scope, if our love of God
is to be full. 4. God claims from as that we love with all our strength. The
whole force of our character is to be in our affection for Him. Men devote their
energies to worldly pursuits. II. Thb unity op spiritual lipb in this love. The
command of our text is introduced by a solemn proclamation, " Hear, O Israel, the
Lord our God is one Lord." The object of Moses in declaring the unity of God
was to guard the Jews against idolatry ; my object in dwelling on it is to claim
from you the consecration of all your powers. A simple illustration will make both
these points dear. Polygamy is contrary to the true idea of marriage ; he who has
many wives cannot love one of them as a wife should be loved. Equally is the
ideal of marriage violated if a man cannot or will not render to his wife the homage
of his whole nature. His affection itself will be partial instead of full, and his
heart will be distracted, if, whatever her amiability may be, her conduct offends
his moral sensibilities ; if he cannot trust her judgment and accept her counsel ; if
■he is a hindranoe to him and not a help in the practical business of life. Many a
nan's spiritual life is distracted and made inefficient, simply because his whola
484 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. zn.
being is not engrossed in his religion ; one-sidedness in devotion is sure to weft1cen»
and tends ultimately to destroy it. Consider the infinite worthiness of God. He is
the source and object of all our powers. There is not a faculty which has not oome
from Him ; which is not purified and exalted by consecration to Him. And as all
our powers make up one man — reason and emotion, conscience and will imiting in
a complete human life — so, for spiritual harmony and religious satisfaction, there
must be the full consecration and discipline of all our powers. Again and again is
this truth set before us in the Biole. The blind and the lame were forbidden for
sacrifice ; the maimed and imperfect were banished from the congregation of the
Lord. The whole man is redeemed by Christ — body, soul, and spirit, aU are to be
presented a living sacrifice. The gospel is intended, not to repress our powers, nor
to set a man at strife with himself, but to develop and enlarge the whole sphere of
life ; and he wrongs the Author of the gospel, and mars his own spiritual perfection,
who allows any faculty to lie by disused in God's service. Look at the same truth
in another aspect ; consider how our powers aid one another in gaining a true appre-
hension of God. The sensibilities of love give us insight into His character, and
furnish us with motives for active service of Him. On the other hand, intelligent
esteem of God expands affection for Him, and preserves it strong when mere emotion
will have died away. Obedience is at once the organ of spiritual knowledge, and the
minister of an increasing faith. " They that know Thy name," says the Psalmist,
" will put their trust in Thee." HI. The gkounds and impulses of this love. In
reality it has but one reason — God is worthy of it ; and the impulse to render it
comes directly from our perception of His worthiness and the knowledge that He
desires it from us. The claim for love, like all the Divine claims, is grounded in
the character of God Himself ; and it takes the form of commandment here because
the Jews were " under the law." There are, however, two thoughts suggested by
the two titles given by Moses to God, which will help us in further illustration oi
our subject. (1) Moses speaks of God as Jehovah, the self-existent, self-sufl&cing
One. God is the source and author of all, wherever found, that awakens love in
man. When once the idea of God has taken full possession of the soul, there ib
not a perfection which we do not attribute in infinite measure to Him. (2) Moses
calls Jehovah " the Lord our God," reminding His people that God had singled
them out from all the nations of the earth, that they were " precious in His sight
and honourable ; " and that all they knew of His excellence and goodness had come
to them through their perception of what He had done for them. ♦' We love Him,
because He first loved us ; " this is the Christian reading of the thought of Moses.
(H. W. Beecher.) Of loving God: — I. The duty enjoined is, " Thou shalt love
the Lord thy God." A true love of God must be founded upon a right sense of
His perfections being really amiable in themselves, and beneficial to us : and such
a love of God will of necessity show forth itself in our endeavouring to practise the
same virtues ourselves, and exercise them towards others. All perfection is in itself
lovely and amiable in the very nature of the thing ; the virtues and excellencies of
men remote in history, from whom we can receive no personal advantage, excite in
us an esteem whether we will or no : arid every good mind, when it reads or thinks
upon the character of an angel, loves the idea, though it has no present communi-
cation with the subject to whom so lovely a character belongs : much more the
inexhaustible Fountain of all perfections ; of perfections without number and with-
out hmit ; the Centre, in which all excellencies unite, in which all glory resides, and
from which every good thing proceeds, cannot but be the supreme object of love to
a reasonable and intelligent mind. Even supposing we ourselves received no benefit
therefrom, yet infinite power, knowledge, and wisdom in conjunction, are lovely in
the very idea, and amiable even in the abstract imagination. But that which
makes these perfections most truly and substantially, most really and permanently,
the object of our love, is the application of them to ourselves, and our own more
immediate concerns, by the consideration of their being joined also with those
relative and moral excellencies, which make them at the same time no less beneficial
to us than they are excellent absolutely in their own nature. I say, then is it that
God truly appears the complete object of love, for so our Saviour Himself teaches
us to argue (Luke vii. 47) — To whom much is forgiven, he will love the more ; and
the apostle St. John (1 John iv. 19) — " We," says he, ♦♦ love Him, because He first
loved us." This, therefore, is t e true ground and foundation of our love towards
God. But wherein this love towards God consists, and by what acts it is most
properly exercised, has sometim s been very much misunderstood. It always signi-
fies a moral virtae, not a passio or affection ; and is therefore in Soriptxire always
mu9. Jtt.} 8T, MARK. | *85
with great care explained and declared to mean the obedience of a virtuous life, in
opposition to the enthusiasm of a vain imagination. In the Old Testament, Moses
in his last exhortation to the Israelites, thus expresses it (Deut. x. 12) : "And now,
Israel what doth the Lord thy God require of thee, but to fear the Lord thy God,
and to love Him f " And what is loving Him? Why, He tells them m the very
next words, 'tis, " To walk in all His ways, and to serve the Lord thy God with all
thy heart, and with all thy soul, to keep the commandments of the Lord, and His
statutes, which I command thee this day for thy good." And again (2 John 6),
"This," says he, "is love, that we walk after His commandments." For what is
rational love but a desire to please the person beloved, and a complacency or satis-
fa<>tion in pleasing him? To love God, therefore, is to have a smcere desire of
obeying His laws, and a delight or pleasure in the conscience of that obedience.
Even to an earthly superior, to a parent, or a prince, love can no otherwise be
shown from a child or a servant than by cheerfully observing the laws, and promo-
ting the true mterest of the government he is under. Now from this account which
has been given of the true nature of love towards God, it will be easy for us to
correct the errors which men have sometimes fallen into in both extremes. Some
have been very confident of their love towards God from a mere warmth of super-
stitious zeal and enthusiastic affection, without any great care to bring forth in
their lives the fruits of righteousness and true holiness. On the contrary, others
there are, who though they really love and fear and serve God m the course of a
virtuous and religious life, yet, because they feel not in themselves that warmth of
affection which many enthusiasts pretend to, therefore they are afraid and suspect
that they do not love God sincerely as they ought. II. Ha^ng thus at large
explained the duty enjoined in the text, " Thou shalt love the Lord thy God, 1
proceed now in the second place to consider briefly thb ciboxtmbtances requisite
TO MAKE THB PERFOBMANCB OP THIS DUTY ACCEPTABLE AND COMPLETE: "ThOU Sftalt
love Him with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mmd. In St.
Luke it is somewhat more distinctly: " With all thy heart, with all thy soul, with
aU thy strength, and with all thy mind." 1. It must be smcere : we must love or
obey Him with all our heart. 'Tis not the external act only, but the mward
affection of the mind principally that God regards, an affection of mind which
influences all a man's actions in secret as well as in public, which determines tne
person's true character or denomination, and distinguishes him who reaUy is a
servant of God from him who only seems or appears to be so. 2. Our obedience
must be universal : we must love God with all our soul, or with our whole soul.
He does not love God in the Scripture sense who obeys Him m some i^t^ljcea wily
and not in all. The Psahnist places his confidence m this only, that he Had
respect unto all God's commandments " (Psa. cxix. 6). Generally speafang, most
men's temptation Ues principally in some one particular mstance, and this is tne
proper trial of the person's obedience, or of his love towards God. 3. Our obedience
must be constant and persevering in time as weU as universal m its extent; we
must love God with all our strength, persevering in our duty without famtmg.
" He that endureth to the end," saith our Saviour, " the same shall be saved ;
and " he that overcometh shall inherit all things ; " and " we are made partakers of
Christ, if we hold the beginning of our confidence steadfast unto the end. ine
Scripture notion of obedience is, walking "in holiness and nghteonsness before
Him all the days of our life" (Luke i. 76). 4. Our obedience to God ought to be
wiUing and cheerful : we must love Him with all our mind. " They that love Thy
name will be joyful in Thee" (Psa. v. 12) : and St. Paul, among tne frmts of the
Spirit, reckoni up peace and joy " in the Holy Ghost." But virtue becomes more
perfect when 'tis made eaey by love, and by faa^if^^l P^,^^?« "'^'''^1?;^ in thl
were into a man's very nature and temper. IH. The last thing observable in ^
text is THE WEIGHT AND IMPORTANCE OF THE DUTY: it 18 *^% S * TI'*?^^
commandment." The reason is, because 'tis the foundation of aU ; ^^ without
regard to God .there can be no rehgion. {Samiul CUirke, D.P.) On the love
of Qod :^lt is the improved abihty of the head that fonns the philosopher, birt
'Us the right disposition of the heart that chiefly makes Uie Chnstian. IJi
our love directed to that Being, who is most worthy of it. as the Centrsui
wSoh all exceUencies unite, and the Source from ^l^^<^li.'^ "^f^J^f .J'^ff^
"Love la the fulfilling of the law." 'Tis not the mere action that is valuable m
itselt Til the love from which it proceeds that stamps a value upon it, and givee
an endearing charm and beauty to it. When a servile fear engrosses the whoh
Si^ S lo^ np all the active powers of the soul, it cramps the abihties, and i*
486 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chip. xn.
t
rather a preservative against sin than an incentive to virtne. Bat love qniokena
oar endeavours, and emboldens onr resolutions to please the object beloved ; and
the more amiable ideas we entertain of our Master, the more cheerful, Uberal, and
animated the service that we render Him will consequently be. Upon love, there-
fore, the Scriptures have justly laid the greatest stress, that love which will give life
and spirit to our performances. L I shall inquibb into the natubk ahd vouk-
DATioN OF CUB LOVE TO THE Detty. The love of Grod may be defined s fixed*
habitual, and grateful regard to the Deity, founded upon a sense of His goodness,
and expressing itself in a sincere desire to do whatever is agreeable, and avoid
whatever is offensive to Him. The process of the mind I take to be this. The
mind considers that goodness is everywhere stamped upon the creation, and appears
in the work of redemption in distinct and bright characters. It considers, in the
next place, that goodness, a lovely form, is the proper object of love and esteem,
and goodness to us the proper object of gratitude. But as goodness exists nowhere
but in the imagination without some good Being who is the subject of it, it goes on
to consider that love, esteem, and gratitude is a tribute due to that Being, in whom
an infinite fulness of goodness ever dwells, and from whom incessant emanations
of goodness are ever flowing. Nor does the mind rest here; it takes one step
farther to reflect that a cold speculative esteem and a barren, unactive gratitude is
really no sincere esteem or gratitude at all, which will ever vent itself in strong
endeavours to imitate a delight to please and a desire to be made happy by the
Being beloved. If it be objected that we cannot love a Being that is invisible, I
answer that what we chiefly love in visible beings of our own kind is always some-
thing invisible. Whence arises that relish of beauty in our own species f Do wa
love it merely as it is a certain mixture of proportion and colours? No; for,
though these are to be taken into the account as two material ingredients, yet some-
thing else is wanting to beget our love ; something that animates the features and
bespeaks a mind within. Otherwise we might fall in love with a mere picture or
any lifeless mass of matter that was entertaining to the eye. We might be as soon
smitten with a dead, uninformed, unmeaning countenance, where there was an
exact symmetry and regularity of features, as with those faces which are enlivened by a
certain cheerfiilness, ennobled by a certain majesty, or endeared by a certain com-
placency diffused over their whole mien. Is not this therefore the chief foundation
of our taste for beauty, that it giveth us, as we think, some outward notices of
noble, benevolent, and valuable qualities in the mind ? Thus a sweetness of mien
and aspect charms the more because we look upon it as an indication of a much
sweeter temper within. In a word, though the Deity cannot be seen, nnmerona
instances of His goodness are visible throughout the frame of nature. And where-
•ver they are seen, they naturally command our love. But we cannot love goodness
abstractedly from some Being in which it is supposed to inhere. For that would
be to love an abstract idea. Hitherto, indeed, it is only the love of esteem. The
transition, however, from that to a love of enjoyment, or a desire of being made
happy by Him, is quick and easy : for, the more lovely ideas we entertain of any
being, the more desirous we shall be to do his pleasure and procure his favour.
Having thus shown the foundation of our love to God, I proceed— H. To btatb
TEE DEOBEE AND POINT OUT THE MXASUBES 07 OUB LOVB TO HiM. The meaning
of these words^ «♦ Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with
all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength," is, that we are to
serve God with all those faculties which He has given us : not that the love of God
is to be exclusive of all other loves, but of all other rival affections ; that, when-
ever the love of God and that of the world come in competition, tJhe former
undoubtedly ought to take place of the latter. To love God, therefore, with all our
heart is so far from excluding all inferior complacencies that it necessarily compre-
hends them. Our love must begin with the creature, and end in Him as the
highest link in the chain. We must love, as well as argue, upwards from the effect
to the cause ; and because there are several things desirable even here under proper
regulations, conclude that He, the Maker of them, ought to be the supreme, not
the only, object of our desires. We cannot love God in Himself without loving
Him in and for His works. We are not to parcel out our affections between piety
and sm. Then is our affection Uke a large diamond, most valuable, when it
remains entire and unbroken, without being cut out into a multitude of independent
and disjointed parts. To love the Lord with all our strength is to put forth the active
powers of the soul in loving and serving Him. It is to quicken the wheels and springs
•f actions that moved on heavily before. It is to do well without being wearj of
«toAP. m.] ST. MARK, 487
well-doing. The love of God is » settled, well-grounded, rational delight in Him,
founded upon conviction and knowledge. It is seated in the understanding, and
therefore not necessarily accompanied with any brisker agitations of spirits,
thongh, indeed, the body may keep pace with the soul, and the spirits flow in a
more sprightly torrent to the heart, when we are afifected by any advantageous
representation of God, or by a reflection on His blessings. This I thought neces-
sary to observe, because some weak men of a sanguine complexion are apt to be
elated upon the account of those short-lived raptures and transient gleams of joy
which they feel within themselves ; and others of a phlegmatic constitution to
despond, because they cannot work themselves up to such a degree of fervour.
Whereas nothing is more precarious and uncertain than that affection which
depends upon the ferment of the blood. It naturally ceases as soon as the spirits
flag and are exhausted. Men of this make sometimes draw near to God with great
fervency, and at other times are quite estranged from Him, like those great bodies
which make very near approaches to the sun, and then all at once fly off to an
immeasurable distance from the source of light. You meet a person at some happy
time, when his heart overflows with joy and complacency: he makes you warm
advances of friendship, he gives you admittance to the inmost secrets of his soul,
and prevents all solicitation by offering, unasked, those services which you, in this
soft and gentle season of address, might have been encouraged to ask. Wait but
till this flush of good humour and flow of spirits is over, and you will find all this
overwarmth of friendship settle into coldness and indifference ; and himself as
much differing from himself as any one person can from another; whereas a
person of a serious frame and composure of mind, consistent with hirnself , and
therefore constant to you, goes on, without any alternate heats and colds in friend-
ship, in an uninterrupted tenour of serving and obliging his friend. Which of
these two is more valuable in himself and acceptable to you ? The answer is v«ry
obvious. Just so a vein of steady, regular, consistent piety is more acceptable to that
Being with whom there is no variableness, neither shadow of change, than all
passionate sallies and short intermitting fits of an unequal devotion. Truly to love
God is not then to have a few warm notions about the Deity fiuttering for a while
in the breast, and afterwards leaving it void and empty of goodness. But it is to
have the love of God dwelling in us. It is not a religious mood or humour, but a
religious temper. It is not to be now and then pleased with our Maker in the
gaiety of the heart, when, more properly speaking, we are pleased with ourselves.
It is not to have a few occasional transient acts of complacency and delight in the
Lord rising in our minds when we are in a vein of good humour, as the seed in the
parable soon sprung up and soon withered away, because it had no root and deep-
ness of earth, but it is to have a lasting, habitual, and determiuate resolution to
please the Deity rooted and grounded in cor hearts, and influencing our actions
throughout. IH. I pbooeed to examine how fab the feab of the Deitt is
CONSISTENT WITH THE LOVE OF HiM. *• There is mercy with Thee, therefore shalt
Thou be feared," is a passage in the Psalms very beautiful, as well as very apposite,
to our present purpose. The thought is surprising, because it was obvious to think
the sentence ehould have concluded thus: There is mercy with Thee, therefore
shalt Thou be loved. And yet it is natural, too, since we shall be afraid to draw
upon ourselves His displeasure, whom we sincerely love. The more we have an
affection for Him, the more we shall dread a separation from Him. Love, though
it casteth out all servile fear, yet does not exclude such a fear as a dutiful son
shows to a very affectionate but a very wise and prudent father. And we^ may
rejoice in God ynth reverence, as well as serve Him with gladness. For love, if not
aUayed and tempered with fear and the apprehensions of Divine justice, would
betray the soul into a sanguine confidence and an ill-grounded security. Fear, on the
other hand, if not sweetened and animated by love, would sink the mind into a
fatal despondency. Fear, therefore, is placed in the soul as a counterpoise to the
more enlarged, kindly, and generous affections. It is in the human constitution
what weights are to some machines, very necessary to adjust, regulate, and balance
the motion of the fine, curious, and active springs. Happy the man who can com-
mand such a just and even poise of these two affections, that the one shaU do
nothing but deter him from offending, while the other inspirits him with a hearty
desire of pleasmg the Deity. {J, Seed, D.D.) Love of Qod peculiar to Chris-
tianity : — Do vou know that ours is almost, if not quite, the omv religion which
teaches ns to love God ? The heathen do not love their gods. They are afraid of
them ; they are inch horrid, ugly things ; they are so fierce ; they fear them. It
488 TEE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [oha». m.
was thought that the Esquimaux had no word for " love " in their language. At
last they found one nearly two lines long. It makes two lines in a book — ^you oonld
hardly say it. But ours is very short. If I were an Esquimaux, and I had to say
" love," I should have to write a word of two lines, made up of all sorts of words.
It is ft great privilege that we can love God. {J. Vaughan, M.A.) Love
buried : — I have heard it said of a man, " That man is a grave 1 '* because some-
thing in him lay dead and buried. What do you think it was ? Love. Love was
dead and buried in him, so the man was a grave 1 I hope I have no graves here.
I hope there is nobody here that is a grave ; a person in whom love lies dead and
buried. {Ibid.) Thy God .•— " Thou shalt love the Lord thy God." You won't
love Him, you will never love the Lord, till you can call Him yours. *• Thy Gk)d."
•• My God." •• He is my God." If a little girl likes her doll, she says, " My doll."
If a boy likes his hoop or bat, he says, " My hoop ; my bat." We say, " My
father ; my mother ; my bjother ; my sister ; my little wife ; my husband." ** My "
is such a nice word. Till you can say "thy" or "my" you will not love God.
But when you can say, " My God 1 " then you will begin to love Him. " The Lord
thy God." When one of the Koman emperors — after a great triumph, a mihtary
victory — ^was coming back to Kome, he went up the Appian hiU in great state, with
his foes dragged at his chariot wheels. Many soldiers surrounded him, adding to
his triximphant entry. On going up the hill, a little child broke through the crowd.
"You must not go there," said the soldiers, "that is the emperor." The little
child repHed, "True, he is your emperor, but he is my father! " It was the em-
peror's own little boy. He said, " He is your emperor, but he is my father." I
hope we shall be able to say that of God. He is the God of everybody ; but he it
my Qod specially. He is not only the Creator of the world, — but He is my God I
{Ibid.) Eov it is that we love God: — What is the way to do it? I will tell you.
When I look at some of you boys and girls down there, I cannot see much of your
right cheek, but I can see your left cheek very clearly, because the light comes that
way, shines directly down upon you. That is the way I see them. How do I love
God ? Love comes from God on me ; then it shines back again on Him. I mast
put myself where God can shine upon me ; then His love shining upon me will
make a reflection go back again to Him. There is no love to God without that. It
is all God's love reflected back to Him. Have not you sometimes seen the sun
setting in the evenmg, and it has been shining so brightly on a house that you have
thought, " Really that house is on flre " f It was only the light of the sun shining
back again, the reflection. So if the love of God shines on your heart, then it will
shine back in love to Him. Did you ever go near a great high rock where there
was an echo ? You said a word, back it comes to you ; you said, " Come I come 1 "
It said, " Come ! come ! " It was an echo. It was your voice coming back to you.
It is God's love that comes back to you when you love Him. It is not your love.
You have no right to it. It is God's love shining upon you makes your love go back
to Him. God's love touching you goes back to Hun. That is the way. I hope
you will so love God. llbid.) Love for God at the bottom of everything : — In
one of the wars in which the Emperor Napoleon was engaged, we read that one of
his old soldiers, a veteran, sustained a very bad wound ; and the surgeon came to
dress it and probe it. He was feeling it with his probe, when the man said to the
surgeon, " Sir, go deep enough ; if you go quite deep, you will find at the bottom
of my wound ' emperor 1 * " It was all for the love of the emperor. " Yon
will find the word 'emperor' at the bottom of my wound." I wish I could
think in all our wounds, on everything we do, we could find quite at the bottom of
it, •' I have got this wound for love of the Emperor. The love of my Emperor has
given me this wound." 0 that we might find at the bottom of everything, " God I "
God 1 " (Ibid.) Love for God supreme : — I will teU you another thing. Many
years ago, there lived a schoolmaster in the Netherlands. It was at the time that
a very wicked persecution was going on against the Protestants, when they had
" The Inquisition. " It was a very cruel thing. The inquisitors, as they were
called, put this poor man to the torture of the rack. They pulled his limbs almost
asunder. This rack was a horrible instrument 1 have you ever seen one f You
may see them in some museums. These inquisitors put men on the rack, and then
pulled their joints out, thus putting them to horrible pain ! When on the raok, the
inquisitor said to this poor schoolmaster, " Do you love your wife and children 7
Won't you, for the sake of your wife and children, give up this religion of yourt T
Won't you give it up ? " The poor old schoolmaster said, " If this earth were all
gold» if all the stars were pearls, and if that golden globe and those pearly stars
nur. zn.] ST, MARK, 489
were all mine, I would give them all np to have my wife and children with me. I
woold rather stay in this prison, and live on bread and water with my wife and
ctiildren, than live like a king without them. But I will not for the sake of pearls,
or gold, or wife, or children, give up my religion, for I love my God more than wife,
or child, or gold, or pearls." But the inquisitors' hearts did not soften a bit ; they
went on inflicting more tortures, till the man died on the rack. He loved God with
*• all his mind, and soul, and heart, and strength." Do you think we could go to
the death for Him ? If we love Him, we shall every day do something for Him.
What have you done this day to snow your love to God? {Ibid.) I should just
like to point you to a few ways by which we may show our love to God : — Supposing
you liad got a very dear friend — some one whom you loved very much — should you
tike to be quite alone with that friend, and tell him your secrets, and for him to
tell you his secrets f Did you ever do that ? If you have a friend, I am sure you
would like to be quite alone with him, and talk secrets. This is just what you will
do with God if you love Him— you will like to be quite alone with Him ; you will
tell Him your secrets, and God will tell you His secrets. He has promised this,
** The secret of the Lord is with them that fear Him." He will tell you things He
does not tell to everybody. He will tell you things you h'ave not heard before. I
will tell you another thing. Do you know anybody you love very much ? If they
go away from you, don't you like to have a letter from them ? and when a letter
does come, don't you read it from beginning to end without one wandering thought ?
I don't think you can say your lessons without a wandering thought ; but if you
had a letter from a dear friend, I think you would give it all your best attention —
from the first word to the last. Well, is there a letter from God? Yes. Here it is
—the Bible I It is a letter from God Himself. If you love God, you will love His
letter, and you will read it very lovingly, and attentively, and give your whole mind
to it. (Ibid.) Loving those like God :—li you have got a friend you love very
much, you will like anybody who is like your friend. You will say sometimes, ** I
quite like that person, she is so like my mother ; he is bo like my friend." You
will love other Christian people, because you can say of them, "They are so like my
Jesus, BO like my God. I will love them therefore." So you will like poor people.
I will tell you why. I will tell you a little story, I do not know whether you ever
heard of it. There was a gentleman who always used to say grace before dinner.
and he used to M7,
** Be present at oar table, Lord,
Be here and everywhere adored : "
and his little child, his little boy, said, " Papa, yon always ask Jesns Christ to
come and be present at our table, but He never comes. Yon ask Him every day,
but He never does come." His father said, "Well, wait and see." While at
dinner that very day, there was a little knock at the door, given by a very poor
man indeed, and he said, ** I am starving ; I am very poor and miserable. I think
God loves me, and I love God, but I am very miserable ; I am hungry, wretched,
and cold." The gentleman said, " Come in ; come and sit down, and have a bit of
our dinner." The little boy said, •• You may have all my helping." So he gave
faim all his helping ; and a very nice dinner the poor man had. The father — after
dinner — said, •* Didn't Jesus come ? You said He never came. There was that
poor man, and Christ said, * Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of
these. My brethren, ye have done it unto Me I * Christ sends His representatives I
What yon have done to that poor man, it is the same as if yon had done it onto
God." Then I am sore if you love people very much, yoa will love to work for
tbem, and you will not mind how hard, because yon love them. If you
love God, yoa will love to do something for God. Like Jacob felt about
Bachel : ** He served seven years for Bachel, and they seemed onto him bat a
«ew days, for the love he had to her." I will tell you one more thing. If you love
a person very much, and he has gone away from you, yoa will love to think he is
eoming back again, fjbid.) Do you love Jesus f — A long time ago, a gentleman,
a young man, was travelling in a coach, and opposite to him there sat a lady, and
the lady had a very little girl on her lap, a very sweet pretty little girl. This young
man was very much pleased with the little girl: he played with her, took great notice
of her, he lent her his penknife to play with ; and he sang to her, and he told her
little stories ; he liked her so exceedingly. When the coach arrived at the hotel
where they were to stop, this little girl put her face close to the young man's, and
said, •• Does '00 love Jesus ? " The young man could not catch it, and so he asked.
490 TEE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [<
"What do you say, my dear?" She said again, "Does 'oo love Jesus?" H«
blushed, and went out of the coach, but he could not forget the question. There
was a large party to dinner, but he could hear nothing but, " Does 'oo love Jesus ? **
After dinner, he went to play billiards, and while playing he could not forget it—
" Does 'oo love Jesus ? " He went to bed, uncomfortable in his mind. "V^^en on
his bed at night, in his wakeful moments and in his dreams, he could only hear the
same question, '♦ Does 'oo love Jesus ? " The next day he had to meet a lady by
appointment, he was still thinking about it, he could not forget it, but spoke a little
out loud, and when the young lady came in, he said, " Does 'oo love Jesus ? " She
said, " What are you talking about?" He said, " I forgot you were present. I
was saying what a very little girl said to me yesterday, ♦ Does 'oo love Jesus?'"
She said, '• What did you say to her ? " He replied, " I said nothing. I did not
know what to say." So it went on. Five years afterwards, that gentleman was
walking, I think it was through the city of Bath. As he was going along the
streets, he saw at the window the very lady who had had the little girl on her lap.
Seeing her, he could not help ringing the bell, and asked if he might speak to her.
He introduced himself tp her thus : " I am the gentleman you will remember,
perhaps, who travelled with you in a coach some years since." She said, •♦ I re-
member it quite well." He said, " Do you remember your little girl asking me a
question ? " She said, " I do, and I remember how confused you were about it."
He said, "May I see that little girl?" The lady looked out of the window, she
was crying. He said, " What 1 what I is she dead ? " •• Yes, yes," was the reply.
" She is in heaven. But come with me, and I will show you her room. I will show
you all her treasures." And the gentleman went into the room, and there he saw
her Bible, and a great many prize books, very prettily bound ; and he saw all her
childish playthings, and the lady said, '* That is all that is now left of my sweet
Lettie." And the gentleman replied, " No, madam, that is not all that is left of
her. I am left. I am left. I owe my soul to her. I was a wicked man when I
first saw her, and I was living among other wicked people, and living a very bad
life. But she said those words to me, and I never forgot them. And since that
time I am quite changed. I am not the man I was. I am now God's. I can
answer that question now. Don't say that all of little Lettie is gone." And now I
?ay to you, and to everybody in this church, "Does 'oo love Jesus?" (Ibid.)
The nature of love to God : — I. That the love which we ought to cultivate and
C HERISH, IN reference TO GoD, IS SUPREME IN ITS DEGREE. " ThoU shalt love the
Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind ; "
thus reminding us that, in every respect, God is to have the pre-eminence, because
He possesses a right of absolute and entire proprietorship in us, as the author and
the end of our existence — because He only is adapted, in Himself and in the benefits
which He has to bestow, to constitute the happiness of man, as an intelligent and
immortal being. And, indeed, it cannot be otherwise : it is utterly impossible that
the love of God should be a subordinate principle. Wherever it exists it must be
the ascendant ; from its own nature it cannot mix with anything that is unlike itself,
and, in reference to its object, it cannot by possibility admit of a rival. For what if
there in us to which it can be subordinated ? Can the love of God in us be subor<
dinated to the love of any sin? Certainly not ; for •• if any man love Me," said the
Saviour, ♦♦ he will keep My commandments." Can the love of God in us be subor-
dinated to the love of fame? Certainly not— " How can ye believe," said Christ,
" while ye seek honour one of another, and seek not the honour that cometh from
God ? " Can the love of God be subordinated in us to the love of the world ? Most
certainly it cannot. This is as inimical to it, and as unlikely to mix with it, as any
other principle or feeling that can be specified : •• Love not the world," says the
Apostle, "neither the things of the world; if any man love the world, the love of the
Father is not in him," — and " The love of money is the root of all evil." Can the
love of God be subordinated in us to the love of creatures ? Can it be subordinated
to the love of the various comforts and enjoyments of this life ? Most certainly it
cannot — for what says our Lord ? Why, He asserts thus much on this subject : that
if any man love houses or lands — that if any man love father or mother — that if any
man love wife or children — that if any man love sister or brother, more than Him,
he is not worthy of Him. Nay, indeed. He goes beyond this, and gives as to imder.
stand, that where the continuance or preservation of our own life is inimical to, or in-
compatible with, the performance of oar duty to Christ, even to this our love to Qcd
is not to be sobordinated ; for, says He, ** If any man love his own life more than
Me, he ii not worthy of Me." This is the view we are to take of that graeiooi
OH&r. zn.] ST. MARK, 491
empire eBtablished over man by Jesns Christ : it is not the reign ot coercion or of
fear, but of freedom and of love. It supposes the entire surrender of our hearts to
Christ, so that Christ is enthroned in our affeotions, and exercises entire dominion over
OS, bringing every imagination and thought of the heart into entire subjection. It
wculd be just as fooHsh to say, that a kingdom was given up to a conqueror while at
the same time its strongholds were in possession of his adversary, as for an
individual to say that he had surrendered his heart and affections to Christ, while,
at the same time, these affections are placed on anything opposed to the will and
inimical to the interests of Christ. II. That the love of God, as inculcated
UPON us BT Himself, is to be beoabded as a bational exebcisb of oub affec-
tions, IMPLYING THB HIGHEST POSSIBLE ESTEEM OF GoD. Man is not Only the sub-
ject of passion, but also of reason. It is originated in us by the knowledge of God ;
it arises from the admission of the soul into an acquaintance with God. But this
is not all : there are vast multitudes that have this knowledge of God ; at the same
time, they love not God. And hence we would distinctly and seriously impress it
upon your minds that that knowledge of God which is to originate in us supreme
affection for Kim, implies the peculiar and personal application to us of the
benefits of His grace — it supposes our reconciliation to God by the forgiveness of
our sins, through faith in the redemption that has been wrought out by Jesus
Christ. When this becomes the case, " the love of God is shed abroad in our
hearts by the Holy Ghost given unto us ; " then our love assumes the character of
filial love, the love which a child feels to its parent. III. That the lovk of God,
INCULCATED UPON US BY THB PBECEPTS OF HiS HOLT GoSPEL, SUPPOSES 8UPBEME DE-
LIGHT OB coMPLACENCT IN GoD. Now, the cxcrcise of our affections forms a very
prominent part of that capacity of happiness by which we are distinguished ; for
our own experience has taught us that the presence of that object on which our
affections are placed is essential to our happiness ; and that its absence at any time
occasions an indescribable feeling of pain, which cannot be alleviated by the pre-
sence of other objects, however excellent in themselves — for this very reason, that they
do not occupy the same place in our affections. Look, for instance, at the miser :
let him only accumulate wealth and add house to house and land to land, and to the
presence and claims of every other object he seems completely insensible: his
attention is completely engrossed with the one object of his pursuit ; and, dead to
everything else, he cares not to what sufferings or privations he submits, if he can
only succeed in gratifying his penurious avidity. Now, look at the same principle
in reference to the love of God. Wherever it exists, it lifts the soul to God, as the
source and fountain of its happiness — it brings the mind to exercise the utmost
possible complacency in God — it leads the mind to seek its felicity from God — it
brings it to Him as to its common and only centre. God is the centre to which the
Bonl can always tend — the sun in whose beam she can bask with nnutterable pleasure
and delight ; she finds in Him not merely a stream but a sea — a fountain of blessed-
ness, pure and perennial, of which no accident of time can ever deprive her. lY.
That thb lots or God, as inculcated upon us in His wobd, implies the entibe
AND PBAOTIOAL DEVOTBDNESS OF OUBSELVES TO HiS SEBVICE AND OLOBT. Ordinarily,
^oa know, nothing is more delightful than to promote, in any possible way, the
iiitsrests of those whom we love : and whatever is the sacrifice which we make,
however arduous the>duty we perform, in order to accomplish this object, if suc-
cessful, we feel ourselves more than adequately rewarded. {John James.) The
great commandment: — I. How can this lovb bb discbiminated ? It is directed
towards "the Lord thy God" (Psa, xvi. 8). 1. It may be known by its
sensibility. It is the love of a bride on the day of her first espousals (Jer. li. 2).
A new convert wants to be demonstrative. At the ancient Boman games, so we
are told, the emperors, on rare occasions, in order ip gratify the citizens, used to
cause sweet perfumes to be rained down through the vast awnings which covered
the theatres ; and when the air grew suddenly fragrant, the whole audiences would
instinctively arise and fill the space with shouts of acclamation for the costly and
delicate refreshment (Cant. vi. 12). 2. This love will be characterized by humility.
Call to mind David's exclamation, for a notable illustration of such a spirit (2 Sam.
vii. 18, 19). A sense of unworthiness really renders a lovely person more welcome
and attractive. 8. This love will be recognized by its gratitude. Christians love
their Saviour because He first loved them. He began the acquaintance. A true
penitent will remember how muo she owes for her forgiveness, and will break an
alabaster-box, costly and fragrant, over the Bedeemer's head (Mark ziv. 3). Once
Dr. Doddridge secured for » sorrowful woman the pardon of her husband who had
492 TEE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap. m.
been condemned for crime ; she fell at the minister's feet in tears of overcharged
feelings and exclaimed, *• Oh, my dear sir, every drop of blood in my body thanks
you for your kindness to me 1 " 4. So this love will be manifested in consecration.
What belongs to God shall be defiled by nothing earthly (1 Cor. iii. 16, 17). Once
among the Scottish highlands, the queen of Great Britain, storm stayed, took
refuge in a cottage. Not till after she had gone did the simple-hearted house-
keeper learn who it was she had been sheltering under her roof. Then she gently
took the chair which her sovereign had occupied, and set it reverently aside, saying,
** None shall ever sit in that seat less than the heir of s crown t " 6. Then this
love will be distinguished by its solicitude. It would seem as if every true convert
might hear Jesus saying to him, as He said to the impotent cripple at Bethesda on
receiving his cure : " Behold, thou art made whole : sin no more, lest a worse thing
come unto thee I " II. So we reach a second question : How mat this love bb
INJUBED ? It may be wilfully " left," and so lost (Rev. ii. 4) . 1. It may lose the " heart '*
ont of it. It was fabled that Mahomet's coffin was suspended in the air half-way
between heaven and earth ; that is no place for a Christian surely while he is alive.
Christ said, ** Ye cannot serve God and mammon." Look at the account given of the
nulitary people who wanted to make David king (1 Chron. xii. 33-38). No man
can love God with a heart for Him and another heart for somebody or something
else (Psa. xii. 2, margin). 2. This love may lose the " soul" out of it. See how
£ne seems the zeal of Naaman when he scoops up some loads of earth from tiie
soil of Israel, that he may bear it over into Syria for an altar to Jehovah ; and now
see how he takes the whole worth out of it by the absurd proposition that, when
his royal master walks in procession to the temple of Rimmon, he may be permitted
to go as he always went, kneeling down to the idol with the rest of the heathen
worshippers (2 Kings v. 17, 18). When the heart is gone, and so there is no interest
in loving, and the soul is gone, and there is no purpose in loving, where is love ?
3. Then this love may be injured by losing the " mind" out of it. All true affec-
tion is intelligent. Defections from the true doctrines of the Scriptures are inevit-
ably followed by a low state of piety. 4. This love may lose all the •* strength"
out of it When the worldly Lord Peterborough stayed for a time with F6n61on, he
was so delighted with his amiable piety that he exclaimed at parting, ** If I remain
here any longer, I shall become a Christian in despite of myself." Love is a power ;
but it is possible that the force of it shall be mysteriously spirited away while the
form of it might appear unchanged. One secret sin, or one indulged Inst, will turn
the whole man from its influence. We saw the story of a ship lost not a great while
ago ; it went on the rocks miles away from the harbour which the pilot said he was
entering. The blame was passed as usual from hand to hand ; but neither steers-
man's skill, nor captain's fidelity, nor sailor's zeal, could be charged with the loss.
Then it came to light at last that a passenger was trying to smuggle into port a
basket of steel cutlery hid in his berth underneath the compass ; that swerved the
needle from the north star. A single bit of earthliness took all the strength out of
the magnetism. That is to be the fate of those who try to smuggle little sins into
heaven. III. Now comes our third question : How should this love be exbbciskd t
This brings us straight to the eleventh commandment, which our Lord declares is
new in some respects, but in its spirit is like the rest of the Decalogue (John xiii. 34).
We are bidden to love our neighbour as ourselves. 1. Who is our neighbour?
The answer to this is found in the parable of the Good Samaritan (Lnke x. 29).
2. What are we to do for our neighbour ? The answer to all such questions is
found in the Golden Rule (Matt. vii. 12). We are to comfort his body, aid his
estate, enlighten his mind, advance his interests, and save his soul. There is a
story that a priest stood upon the scaffold with Joan of Arc till his very garments
took fire with the flames which were consuming her, so zealous was he for her
conversion. ** None know how to prize the Saviour," wrote the good Lady Hont-
ingdon, ** but such as are zealous in pious works for others." (C. S. Robinson^ D.D,)
Supreme love to Qod, the chief duty of man : — I. The plages or scbiptube whebb
THIS OEBAT DUTY IB ENJOINED, EITHEB EZPBE88LY OB IHPUOITLT, are the following :
Dent. vi. 4, ** Hear, O Israel, the Lord cor God is one God." Dent. x. 12 ; Josh.
zziL 4, S ; 2 These, iii. 5. II. Let as look a little into thb ratubs op this com-
PB»HEMS1VK DUTT. And without oontrorersy it is the most excellent qualification
of the hnman nature. This love supposes some acquaintance with God : not only
a knowledge that there is such a Being, but a jnst notion of His nature and per-
fections. And further, this love of God is justifiable in the highest degrees
possible ; nay, it is more laudable in proportion to its ardency, and the influence
n.1 ST. MARK. 493
it has on our thongbte and on the actions of life : whereas love to our fellow,
mortals may rise into unlawful extremes, and produce ill effects. Even natural
affection, such, for instance, as that of parents to their children, may exceed due
bonndis and prove a snare to as, and be the occasion of many sins : but the love of
Ood can never have too much room in the heart, nor too powerful an influence on
our conduct ; but ought to rule most extensively, and to govern and direct in all
oar purposes and practices. III. Let us now, in some particulars, consider thb
■ICKLLBNOT OF THIS DUTY. 1. The objcct of it is the infinitely perfect God ; the
contemplation of whose glories gives the angels inexpressible and everlasting
•delight; nay, furnishes the eternal mind with perfect unchangeable happiness.
2. Love to God is a celestial attainment : it flames in the upper world ; heaven is
full of this love. God necessarily loves Himself ; takes delight in His own glory ;
reflects upon His own perfections with eternal complacency : the Son loves the
Father ; the angels and the spirits of the just behold the face of God with entire
satisfaction. 3. The love of God is the noblest endovmient of the mind of man.
It more extdts the soul, and gives it a greater lustre than any other virtue. Nay,
this is the most excellent part of godliness, internal godliness. 4. The excellency
of this gracious principle, love to God, will appear, if we consider it as productive
of the most excellent fruits. Love is the fulfilling of the law. It prepares us for
communion with God, for gracious communications from Him, for delight in Him,
for a participation of the comforts of the Spirit, for the light of God's countenance,
a sense of His love to us, and a lively hope of glory. 6. Without love we cannot
be approved and accepted of God, either in religious worship, or in the common
actions of life. What the apostle says of faith, ♦♦ Without faith it is impossible to
please God," we may likewise say of love. 6. Love to God entitles as to many
special privileges and blessings. 7. Besides the promises of the life that now
is, they have a claim to such as relate to another life. It is not in this life only
they have hope, there is an eternity of glory provided for them ; they shall have
the pleasure of an everlasting view of the infinite beauties of the Deity, and for
ever feel the ravishment of that incomprehensible glory. 8. It likewise prepares
the soul for heaven, adapts the mind to celestial entertainments. It meetens us
for the presence of God, as it is an ardour like that which is raised by the heavenly
vision, though so much below it in degree. IV. The reasons fob thb lovb of
God. 1. The infinite perfections of God call for our highest esteem and love. 2.
Creating goodness teaches as to adore and love our Maker. 3. The consideration
of God's preserving care directs us to love Him. 4. The liberality and bounty of
God in making provision for mankind is what should by no means be overlooked,
bat considered and acknowledged to the praise of His goodness, and should incline
our hearts to the great Benefactor. 6. The patience of God is engaging, and
should attract the soul to Him, and dispose us cheerfully to return to obedience
with grateful resentment of His unmerited and forfeited goodness. 6. The titles
which God is pleased to take on Himself with regard to His people should be
thought an inducement to love Him, at least by those who hope they have an
interest in His special favour. 7. The promises of God are of an attractive
engaging nature, and are made to gain our hearts, and to render the paths of duty
pleasant. 8. Redeeming grace directs our hearts into the love of God. 9. Another
argument directing and pressing us to the love of God is the distinguishing good-
ness of God to as in giving us the gospel revelation. 10. With respect to those I
have mentioned, and all other instances of the love of (}od, the disinterestedness
of it exalts and magnifies it, and shows Him to be infinitely worthy of our esteem
and love. We are bound to love the Lord our God for the hope He has given as
«8 to another life ; hope of a fulness of joys and pleasures for evermore, blessedness
more suitable to the highest powers of the soul than any that we enjoy here, and
lasting as eternity itself. Y. I must now lay before you, in some particulars, thb
FBUrrS OF THIS BXCELLEKT PRINCIPLE ZN THB SOUL OF MAS. 1. Love tO God will
produce obedience, voluntary, cheerful obedience. 2. Love to God will beget in us
a sincere affection for the people of God, such as in the gracious condescending
style of the Scripture are called His children. 8. Love to God will moderate your
affections towards worldly enjoyments, which are apt to take up too much room in
our hearts, and to engross oxilawful degrees of o r love. 4. It will qualify you for
dutilol sabmission to God onder temporal eWls, nd bodily afiiictions, and prevent
complaints against God. 6. Love to God will prepare voa for communion with
God, manifestations of Himself to yoo. 6. It fit the soul for delightful meditation
upon God. 7. If yoa traly love God, yon will deUght in His worship, yoa will
194 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [cha». zn.
love the honse of God. 8. Love to God will furnish you with a lively hope of
glory. What remains further to be done on this subject is to add some inferences
and exhortations. The inferences are the following : 1. If the love of God be ft
great and indispensable duty, then the whole of religion does not lie in love to onr
neighbour ; much less does it in being just and honest in our dealings, giving to
all their due, and doing no one any barm. 2. If the love of God be so great a
duty, and there are so many clear unanswerable arguments to prove it to be bo»
what a horrid accursed wickedness is it to hate God I 3. What a vast advantage
is it to enjoy the gospel revelation, where we have the light of the knowledge of the
glory of God shining in the face of Jesus Christ I 4. If to love the Lord our God
with all our heart be the first and great commandment, then we are greatly con-
cerned to inquire, whether we have this Divine principle in the soul. I have a few
particulars of exhortation to add, and with these I shall finish this subject. 1.
Believe in God, His existence. His glorious perfections, His infinite, eternal, un.
changeable rectitude. His providence. His care of His creatures, His mercy and
love, His general goodness to all. 2. Use yourselves to meditation on those
attributes of God which have a more direct tendency to attract esteem and love,
the attributes which are as it were the spring from whence blessings flow to His
creatures, such as His compassion, mercy, and goodness. 3. Believe the gospel.
God's purposes of love to fallen man before the foundation of the world, the
incarnation of the Son of God, the sufferings and death of the Mediator, remission
of sin purchased by His blood. 4. Be conversant with the Scriptures, which
were written to bring us to God as the fountain of good and the author of happiness,
to raise and improve in the mind all gracious affections towards Him, and, among
the rest, our love to Him. 5. Labour to get the heart more purified from natur^
corruption. 6. Take care to keep your affections towards other things within due
bounds, that they may not lessen your esteem of God. * (Thomas Whitty,)
Ver. 81. Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself: — The second great command-
menty love to our neighbour : — I shall make a few obsebvations coNCEBNiNa thb
NATUBE OF THIS DUTY. This phraseology has been very differently understood by
different persons. Some have supposed it to contain a direction that we should
love our neighbour with the same kind of love, which is exercised towards our-
selves. This plainly cannot be its meaning. The love which we usually and
naturally exercise towards ourselves is selfish and sinful. Others have insisted,
that we are required to love them in the same manner as ourselves. This cannot
be the meaning. For we love ourselves inordinately, unreasonably, without
candour, or equity; even when the kind of love is really evangelical. Others,
still, have supposed, that the command obliges us to love our neighbour^ in exactly
the same degree in which we ought to love ourselves. This interpretation, though
nearer the truth than the others, is not, I apprehend, altogether agreeable to the
genuine meaning of the text. It has, it I mistake not, been heretofore shown
satisfactorily, that we are in our very nature capable of understanding, realizing,
and feeling whatever pertains to ourselves more entirely than the same things
when pertaining to others ; that our own concerns are committed to us by God
in a peculiar manner ; that God has made it in a peculiar manner our duty to
" provide for our own, especially for those of our own households " ; and that thus
a regard to ourselves, and those who are ours, is our duty in a peculiar degree. To
these things it may be justly added that we are not bound to love all those
included under the word neighbour, in the same degree. Some of these persons
are plainly of much greater importance to mankind than others ; are possessed of
greater talents, of higher excellence, and of more usefulness. Whether we make
their happiness or their excellence the object of our love ; in other words, whether
we regard them with benevolence, or complacency, we ought plainly to make a
difference, and often a wide one, between them; because they obviously and
exceedingly differ in their characters and circumstances. A great, excellent, and
useful man, such as St. Paul was, certainly claims a higher degree of love from us
than a person totally inferior to him in these characteristics. For these, and
various other reasons, I am of opinion, that the precept in the text requires ni
to love oar neighbour generally and indefinitely as ourselves. The love whieh we
exercise towards him is ever to be the same in kind, which we ought to exeroiM
towards ourselves ; regarding both ourselves and him as members of the intelligeat
kingdom ; as interested substantially in the same manner in the Divine favoor:
as in the same manner capable o happiness, moral excellence, and osefulneM ; m
xn.] ST. MARK, 495
beinp; instraments of glory to God, and of good to onr fellow-creatures ; m being
originally interested alike in the death of Christ ; and, with the same general pro-
bability, heirs of eternal life. This explanation seems to be exactly accordant with %
the language of the text. '* As '* does not always denote exact equality. In many
eases, for example, in most oases of commutative justice, and in many of dis-
tributive justice, it is in onr power to render to others exactly that which we render
to ourselves. Here, I apprehend, exactness becomes the measure of our duty.
The love which I have here described is evidently disinterested ; and would in our
own case supply motives to onr conduct so numerous and so powerful as to render
selfish affections useless to as. Bslfishness therefore is a principle of action totally
nnnecessary to intelligent beings as such, even for their own benefit. II. The
LOVE HEBE BEQUIBED EXTENDS TO THE WHOLE XNTELLIQENT CBEATION. ThlS posi-
tion I shall illustrate by the following observations : — 1. That it extends to our
families, friends, and countrymen, will not be questioned. 2. That it extends to
our enemies, and by consequence to aU mankind, is decisively taught by our
Saviour in a variety of Scriptural passages. It is well known that the Pharisees
held the doctrine, that, while we were bound to love our neighbour, that is, our
friends, it was lawful to hate our enemies. On this subject I observe (1) That
the command, to love onr enemies, is enforced by the example of God. (2) If we
are bound to love those only who are friends to us, we are under no obligation to
love God any longer than while He is our friend. (3) According to this doctrine,
good men are not bound in ordinary cases to love sinners. (4) According to this
doctrine, sinners are not ordinarily bound to love each other. From these con-
siderations it is onanswerably evident that all mankind are included under the
word neighbour. 8. This term, of course, extends to all other intelligent beings,
to far as they are capable of being objects of love ; or in other words, so far as
they are capable of being happy. 4. The love required in this precept extends in
its operations to all the good offices which we are capable of rendering to others.
(1) The love required in this precept will prevent us from voluntarily injuring
others. (2) Among the positive acts of beneficence dictated by the love of the
gospel, the contribution of onr property forms an interesting part. (3) Love to
our neighbonr dictates also every other office of kindness which may promote his
present welfare. (4) Love to onr neighbour is especially directed to the good of
Iiis soul. Remarks : 1. From these observations it is evident, that the second great
command of the moral law is, as it is expressed in the text, " like the first." It is
not only prescribed by the same authority, and possessed of the same obligation,
unalterable and eternal ; but it enjoins exactly the exercise of the same disposition.
2. Piety and morality are here shown to be inseparable. 8. We here see that the
religion of the Scriptures is the true and only source of all the duties of life. (T.
Dwightf D,D.) Tfie $eeond commandment : — I. Explain the second oomcAND.
1. Who is my neighbonr f (1) Some regulate their charities by local habi-
tation: for a stranger, or one afar off they have no compassion. (2) Some
have a law of relationship. **WhatI assist the heathen while I have poor
relations?" (3) Others confine charity to their own nation. (4) Others to the
same religious profession. (5) Many think themselves justified in exdnding
enemies. The Jews understood the word neighbour to signify "thy friend."
(6) The last rule of exclusion is that which relates to character. Even if
notoriously vile, there is no plea for neglect : benevolence, under these circum-
stances, may often gain their souls I Is the inquiry still urged, "Who is my
neighbour ? " Every human being, without exception. ** As ye have opportunity,
do good nnto all men." If redeeming love made the exclusions we make, where
should we be ? In hell ; or, if in the world, without Gk>d and without hope. '* Be
ye therefore perfect, as your Father in heaven is jperfect." Christianity makes dis-
tinctions, but no exclusions. With these distinctions, every man is your neighbour,
and you are bound to fulfil towards him the duties of love. 2. What is my duty
to my neighbonr? It includes :(1) The dispositions we are to cultivate and the
conduct we are to observe towards him in all the intercourse and transactions of
ordinary life. It includes (2), as already remarked, the benevolence we are to
exercise towards our neighbour in distress ; because then he is more particularly
the object of regard and affection. If the text were more obeyed there would be
far less evil in ue world. (8) The endeavours we ought to mi^e for the s<dvation
of the soul. 8. What is the measure of duty to your neighbour? ** To love him
as yonrsell.** Self-love is thus lawful and excellent, and even necessary. It is not
the dispodtiop which leads nnregenerate man to gratify Tioioos appetites moi
496 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [ohav. zn.
passions. This is rather self -hatred. Nor that which leads as to grasp at all advan-
tages, regardless of the consequences to others. This is selfishness. Bat thai
principle which is inseparable from our being ; by which we are led to promote our
own happiness, by avoiding evil and acquiring the greatest possible amount of
good. This is the measure for our neighbour. While avoiding everything that would
injtire him in body, family, property, reputation, seek to do him all the good you
can, and do it in the way in which you would promote your own welfare. Now,
how does a man love himself? 1. Tenderly and afifectionately. Then so love
your neighbour. While helping him, never show sourness of countenance or use
asperity of language. 2. Sincerely and ardently. This will make him prompt and
diligent, in everything he thinks, for his good. " Say not unto him, go and come
again, and to-morrow 1 will give, when thou hast it by thee." Our opportunities
for floing, as for getting, good are precarious. Now is the accepted time. 3. Patiently
and perseveringly. So if we do not succeed by one means we try another, keeping on
to life's end. Consider how varied the means which God employed with you.
Having thus explained the text, let us, II. Enforce it. In doing this, we make
our appeal. 1. To authority. His, who is Lord of aU. 2. To example.
Example is of two kinds. First, those we are bound to imitate: these are
strictly patterns for us. Secondly, those which, though we are not obliged to
follow, yet, for their excellence, are worthy of imitation. 3. To the connection and
dependence which subsist between us and our neighbour. We are parts of one and
the same body, and each is expected to contribute to the general good. 4. How
much present pleasure arises from the exercise of this duty. This is present
pleasure; and have we not present advantages too? Is not charity a gain ? 6.
Advert to the future recompense of benevolence. (1) The love of our neighbour
originates in, and is always connected with, the love of God. (2) That benevo-
lence must not infringe upon justice. No man should give in alms what belongs
to creditors. (3) The most proper objects are often those who are least willing to
make known their distress. {John Summerjield, M.A.) The duty of loving our
lu'ighhour ae ourselves exphiived: — It is not said, thou shalt love thy neighbour
with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength. No, that
would have been carrying the point too high, and scarce have left any sufficient
note of distinction between what we owe to man, and what we owe to God only.
I. To SHOW WHAT NEIGHBOUR, IN THE TEXT, MEANS. The word neighbour primarily
and properly signifies one that is situated near unto us, or one that dwelleth nigh
us. But by use and custom of language, the same word neighbour has been made
to signify one that we are any way allied to, however distant in place, or how-
ever removed from the sphere of our conversation or acquaintance. From all
which it is plain, that in construction of gospel-law, every man whom we can any
way serve, is our neighbour. And as God is a lover of mankind at large, so ought
every good man to consider himself as a citizen of the world, and a friend to the
whole race ; in real effect to many, but in good inclination and disposition, and in
kind wishes and prayers, to all. So much for the extent of the name, or notion of
neighbour. II. Next, I am to explain, what it is to lovk oub nkighboub, ob all
MEN, AS WB LOVE OUR OWN SELVES. There is the more need of frequent exercise
this way, because indeed selfishness i^ iriginaUy sown in our very nature, and may
perhaps be justly called our original depravity. It shows itself in the first dawn of
our reason, and is never well cured, but by a deep sense of religion, or much self-
reflection. From hence may appear our Lord's profound wisdom and deep penetra-
tion into the darkest recesses of man's heart ; while to the precept of loving one's
neighbour. He superadds this home-consideration. Thou shalt love thy neighbour
as thyself. Not so highly, or so dearly, as you love yourself (for that is not
expected) but as highly and truly as you could reasonably desire of him, if his
«ase and circumstances were yours and yours were his. Judge from yourself, and
your own just expectations from others, how you ought to behave towards them, in
like cases and circumstances. III. Having tnus competently explained the precept
'Of the text, it remains now only, that in the third and last place, I lay down bomb
considbbations pbopeb TO ENroBOB IT. 1. First, Let it be considered, that this
second commandment, relating to the love of our neighbour, is so like the first,
relating to the love of God, and so near akin to it, and so wrapp'd np in it, that they
are both, in a manner, but one commandment. He that truly, sincerely, consistently
loves God, must of course, love his neighbour also : or if he does not really love his
neighbour, he cannot, with any consistency or truth, be said to love God. 2. It may fur-
ther be eonsidered (which indeed is but the consequence of the former) that by this vei7
xu.] 8T, MARS, 481
rule will the righteous Judge of all men proceed at the last day; as our Lord Himself
has sufficiently intimated in the twenty-fifth of St. Matthew. (D. Waterland, D.D.)
The proof of brotherly love : — It is said that when the story of West India slavery
was told to the Moravians, and it was told that it was impossible to reach the
slave population because they were bo separated from the ruling classes, two
Moravian missionaries offered themselves, and said : « We will go and be slaves
on the plantations, and work and toil, if need be, under the lash, to get right beside
the poor slaves and instruct them." And they left their homes, went to the West
Indies, went to work on the plantations as slaves, and by the side of slaves, to get
close to the hearts of slaves ; and the slaves heard them, and their hearts were
touched, because they had humbled themselves to their condition. [BUhop
Simpson.) Love to each other should be constant : — " On the top of the Mourne
Mountains in the North of Ireland there is a clear, cool pool of water. The hiU
on which it is situated is very high and steep, and when you have laboured to the
top you feel very tired, hot, and thirsty, especially if it be a warm day. How
gratefully you drink of the clear, cool water, and you think that if you had met
with it hali way up the hill the ascent would have been much easier completed.
The peculiar thing about this well is that on the warmest day in summer the water
is always cold, almost ice cold ; and on the coldest day in winter the water will not
freeze, but is exactly the same all the year round. The well is a spring, or rather
a nmning stream which suddenly emerges from the earth, showing itself at this
place, and immediately disappearing. When I looked at that I thought, should
this not teach Christians a lesson ? Should not brotherly love springing from Christ,
and making its appearance as an unexpected refreshing stream in us, flow con>
Btantly, swiftly, and strongly, refreshing, and strengthening, and preparing for new
efforts, all with whom we come in contact, and such, that no matter what trouble
or annoyance may come in the way, the love of Christ flowing through us may be
strong enough to sweep them all away and leave us as clear and calm as ever —
loving and kindly affectionate one towards another as ever." {Forbes.) The
nature of true laudable self-love : — I. Endeavoub to explain to you thb hatube
or TRUE LAUDABLE SELF-LOVE, AND SHOW YOU WHAT IS NOT MEANT BY IT. The
mistakes to which we are generally liable as to this matter ; and then what we
are to understand by self-love, in what respects it is our duty. 1. That it is not
self-conceit, an extravagant opinion of our own qualifications, and an unreasonable
esteem and value for ourselves. 2. By self-love I do not mean self-indulgence,
allowing ourselves in the gratification of sensual appetites without restraint or
control, fulfilling the desires of the flesh and of the mind, and giving liberty to
oar own inclinations and passions however irregular and unbounded. 3. Neither does
this duty consist in taking care only for the body, in employing all our thought
and care, spending all our pains, and all our time in making provision for our
subsistence in the world. 4. By loving ourselves, I do not mean what we may call
selfishness, a confining our regard and concern wholly to ourselves, minding our
own pleasures, or oar own interest, not caring what becomes of others, what
difficulties they go through, what miseries they suffer. For a farther explication
of this duty of love to ourselves, take the following particulars. (1) It must be
xegalated by love to God, and our relations and obligations to Him. (2) The
measure of our love to ourselves must likewise be adjusted by the love and duty we
owe to others ; just as the love of others to themselves should be such as is con-
^stent with their love and duty to us. II. Oub love hust extend to oub
fHOLB SELVES, BODY AND SOUL. UI. TbUS LOVB TO OUBSELVES MUST HAVE BESPECT
TO ETBBNiTY AS WELL AS TIME. The argomeuts for rational religious self'love are
such as the following. 1. The excellent nature of the soul requires a regard for
ourselves, and a concern for our own welfare, and particularly for the true happiness
of the soul. 2. To love ourselves, and to show a concern for our own welfare is a
natural duty. 3. Your eternal salvation depends upon your serious oonoem for
yourselves, i. Consider the love of Qod to souls, manifested in his declarations
of goodness and mercy. 5. How great is the loss of the soul I It is shameful
folly and ignorance to think that any pleasure you can find in the way of sin wiB
in any measure compensate it : What is a man profited. {Thomas Whitty,)
Yer. 82. Well, Master, Tbou bast said the trnth. — The Divine echo in the human
heart :— Man needs a Saviour. The heart of man answers, " Well, Master, Thoa
hast said the trnth." What are the practical consequences of our having
this respoQsiye faculty ? L Mah zb made a oo-wobksb with Ood ; not a machine,
S2
498 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [cHA». xit
bat a co-operating agent. II. Man enjoys the restraints of conscience. The
Bible appeals to and has the consent of conscience. III. God bases His judgment
UPON THIS responsivb FACULTY. " To him that knoweth to do good," &o. The
judgment day will be short, because every man will be his own witness. (The
Pulpit Analyst.)
Ver. 34. Thou art not far from the kingdom of God. — Need of self-examination : —
There is great cause for every one of us diligently to try and examine ourTtnowledge
and faith in Christ, whether it be true, sound, and sincere ; or whether it be an
hypocritical and counterfeit faith, seeing one may be ♦' not far from the kingdom,"
and yet not in it. The rather, because so many deceive themselves with a vain
persuasion and opinion of faith, thinking they have true faith in Christ, when it is
not BO. We are to try our faith by those marks of it, which are taught in the
Word of God. 1. By the object of it. True faith believes and applies not only
the promises of the gospel touching forgiveness of sins and salvation in Christ, but
also all other parts of God's Word, as the precepts and commandments of it
forbidding sin and commanding holy duties, also the reproofs and threatenings
denounced against sin and sinners. 2. By the means by which we attained to it,
and by which it is daily nourished in us. 3. By the contrary sin of unbelief.
Look whether thou feel and complain of thy unbelief, and doubtings of God's
mercy and forgiveness of thy sins in Christ, and whether thou daily pray and
strive against such doubtings. 4. By the fruits and effects of it, especially by
our hatred of sin, and care to avoid it, and to live holily. (G. Fetter). Danger
of this state : — Among those who have turned out to be the most determmed
enernies of" the gospel are many who once were so near conversion that it was
a wonder they avoided it. Such persons seem ever after to take vengeance upon
the holy influence which had almost prove! too much for them. Hence our fear
for persons under gracious impressions ; for, if they do not now decide for God,
they will become the ^nore desperate in sin. That which is set in the sun, if it be
not softened, will be hardened. I remember well a man who, under the influence
of an earnest revivalist, was brought to his knees, to cry for mercy, in the presence
of his wife and others ; but never afterwards would he enter a place of worship, or
pay attention to religious conversation. He declared that his escape was so
narrow, that he would never run the lisk again. Alas, that one should graze the
gate of heaven, and yet drive on to hell I {G. H. Spurgeon.) Nearly a Christian : —
After being twelve days on shipboard, I awakened in the morning and saw the
American coast. The headlands seemed beautiful; even Sandy Hook seemed
attractive. I was impatient to get on shore. It seemed as if we never would get
free from quarantine, or get up the Narrows, or come to our friends who stood on
the wharf waiting for us. I think that the most tedious part of a voyage is the
last two or three hours. Well, there are many before me who are in the position
I have described myself as once having been in. You have been voyaging on
towards Christian life; you have found it a rough passage; a hurricane from
Mount Sinai has smitten you, but now you see lighthouses, and you see buoys,
and the great headlands of God's mercy stretching out into the ocean of your
transgression. You are almost ashore. I have come here to-night to see you land.
You are very near being a Christian — *• Thou art not far from the kingdom of
God." 0 that this might be the hour for your emancipation. (T. de Witt
Talmage, D.D.) Lost within sight of home : — A Christian minister says : " When
after safely circumnavigating the "g^Obe, the Royal Charter went to pieces in
Moelfra Bay, on the coast of Wales, it was my melancholy duty to visit and seek
to comfort the wife of the first officer, made by that calamity a widow. The ship
had been telegraphed from Queenstown, and the lady was sitting in the parlour
expecting her husband, with the table spread for his evening meal, when the
messenger came to tell her he was drowned. Never can I forget the grief, so
stricken and tearless, with which she wrung my hand, as she said, ' So near home,
and ^et lost 1 * That seemed to me the most terrible of sorrow. Btrt, ah t thttt Is
nothing fo the anguish which must wring the soul which is compelled to say at
last, ' Once I was at the very gate of heaven, and had almost entered in, but now
I am in hell ! ' " Not quite saved is lost : — Suppose yon stop where yon are, and
go no further ? Suppose yon perish at the gate ? Suppose I teU yon that multi-
tades have come jnst where yoa are, and got no further ? Do yon know that to be
almost saved is not to be saved at all ? Suppose a man is ^oinff iip a JLadder and
he slip, from what roond had ha better slip? If he slip from 'i^ bottom-rung it
>. xii.] ST. MARK, 499
IB not half 80 perilous as if from the top. Suppose you are making an effort for
eternal life, and you have oome"Srm88r to the kingdom of heaven, and you fall —
not quite saved, almost saved, very near the kingdom of God, not quite— but lost !
A vessel came near the Long Island coast, and was split amid the breakers in a
violent storm. They were within a stone's throw of being saved, when a violent
wave took the boat and capsized it, and they perished — almost ashore, but not
quite. And there are men who are pulUng away towards the shore of safety.
Nearer and nearer they are coming. I can say to them to-night : Thou art not far
trom the kingdom of God. But you have not quite reached it. Alas 1 if you stop
where you are, or if a wave of worldiiness capsizes your soul, and you perish
almost within arm's reach of the kingdom I 0 do not stop where you are. Having
come so near the kingdom of God, push on ! push up ! Will you tantalize your
soul by stopping so near the kingdom of God ? Will you come to look over the
fence into the heavenly orchard, when you might go in and pluck the fruit ? Will
you sit down in front of the well-curb, when a few more turns of the windlass might
bring up the brimming buckets of everlasting life? (T. de Witt Talmage, D.D.)
Not far of: — The man to whom these words were addressed was a candid inquirer.
I. Thb characteristicb of those who are not tab from the einqoom. 1. They
may possess considerable knowledge of Scripture. 2. They may make a candid con-
fession of their belief. 3. They may have strong convictions of sin. 4. They may
have a desire to amend their lives. 5. They may have partially reformed. They
only need repentance and faith. II. The reasons why they do not enter the
KINGDOM. 1. Difficulties in the way. 2. Advantages in a middle course. 3.
BeHef that they are Christians already. 4. Reluctance to observe the needful
conditions. III. The inducements to enter. 1. The blessedness of those whb
do. 2. The misery of those who do not. {Seeds and Saplings.) " So near : "—
T I. What are its marks? 1, Truthfulness of spirit. 2. Spiritual perception.
8. Acquaintance with the law. 4. Teachableness. 6. A sense of need of Christ.
A horror of wrongdoing. 7. A high regard for holy things. 8. Diligent attention
to the means of grace. 11. What abb its dangers ? There is danger — 1. Lest
you slip back from this hopefulness. 2. Lest you rest content to stop where you
are. 3. Lest you grow proud and self-righteous. 4. Lest instead of candid you
become indifferent. 6. Lest you die ere the decisive step is taken. III. What
! ABB ITS DUTIES? 1. Thank God for dealing so mercifully with you. 2. Admit
I, with deep sincerity tiiat you need supernatural help for entrance into the kingdom.
j 8. Tremble lest the decisive step be never taken. 4. Decide at once, through
Divine grace. (C.H. Spur g eon.) For the candid and thoughtful: — I. The
COMMENDATION WHICH IS HEBB EZPBESSED. 1. He posscsscd candouT. 2. He
possessed spiritual knowledge. 3. He knew the superiority of an inward religion
over that which is extemaL 4. He saw the supremacy of God over the whole of
our manhood. 5. Yet he did not despise outward religion so far as it was com-
manded of God. II. Thb question which is hbbb suoGBsnED. This man
came so near to the kingdom ; did he ever enter it ? 1. There is no reason why
he should not have done so. (1) His knowledge of the law might have taught
him his inability to obey it. (2) The presence of Christ might have drawn forth
his love. (3) His knowledge of sacrifices might have taught him their spiritual
import. (4) The Holy Spirit may have changed his heart. 2. But perhaps he
never did enter the kingdom. If he did not enter, one of the reasons, no doub^,
would be — that he was afraid of his fellow-men. {Ibid.) Not far from God's king^
^m : — I, We find many excellent people whose goodness is '6» A negative kind. By
'Judidious management and advice of parents and teachers, they have grown up
free from the grosser sins. 11. Another class of persons are fitted by the cha-
racter of their minds, and the nature of their studies, to take ah intbbest in
OHBISTIANITT AND THB CHUBCH FBOM AN INTELLEOTUAIj POINT OP VIEW. ^ But let
such remember that religion is something more than correctness of intellect ;
it is a life-giving principle, regulating the will, as well as directing the creed.
III. A third class who, in disposition and habits are not far from the kingdom
of God, may be described as thb amiable. IV. One other class which I shall
speak of, as embracing many " not tit from the kingdom of God," is that
of THB GENEROUS AND IJBERAL-SPIRITBD. {J. N. Nortou^ D.D.) Not quite in
time: — To iee a friend riding briskly away, by the time we have reached the
door to deliver a parting message ; to have the boat pushed off from the dock,
while we are hurrying down to get on board. These small disappointments will
M illustrations in greater things. {Ibid.) Indecision dangerout : — I. Art
600 TEE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. xh.
there not manj bearing the Christian name who, though not far from the kingdom
of God, HAVE NEVER YET PASSED THE BOUNDARY WHICH SEPARATES THEM FROM THE WORLD f
1. In this state there are those who have correct views of doctrinal truth without
a spirit of devotion. 2. They are not far from the kingdom, but do not belong to
that kingdom, who are the subjects of frequent and powerful convictions, yet have
never been converted to God. 3. They are not far from the kingdom, but do not
belong to it, who cultivate amiable tempers and agreeable manners, and yet are^
strangers to the influence and grace of the Divine Spirit. II. Are there not sous
REASONS to be ABSIONED AB CAUSES WHY MANY OF YOU CONTINUE 80 LONG TO HOVK&
ROUND THE BORDERS OP THE KINGDOM OP GOD, YET NEVER ENTER IT f YOUI COnduot
carries in it a multitude of strange inconsistencies. 1. Your hovering still round
the outer borders of the kingdom of God must be ascribed to a want of firm deci-
sion of mind. 2. It must be ascribed to a want of warm and loyal attachment to
the blessed Immanuel, the Prince of life. 3. It must be ascribed to a want of true
faith and humility. III. While you continue without the boundary of the kingdom
of God, at whatever point of nearness, is not your state a state op awful danger?
You are more liable to self-deception than vile profligates ; you are commanded ;
you are in danger of attaching too much consequence to the soundness of your
creed and strictness of your morals. Do not expect to glide into the kingdom
without effort or hindrance. 1. You must press into the kingdom by casting oflf
every incumbrance, and by forsaking every prejudice and passion which has a
tendency to entangle and obstruct your progress. 2. You must press into the
kingdom through all possible resistance. {J. Thornton.) ♦• Not far from the
kingdom " ; — True praise never does harm ; it softens and humbles. Yet this man
belonged to a class which had no right to expect any indulgence at Christ's hand.
Christ sees the good points of the scribe. There is a " kingdom of God " in this
world, and it has distinct boundary lines. What was there in the man which
made Christ speak of him as "near to the kingdom"? I. That the scribe spoke
practically and sensibly, and without prejudice — as Christ expresses it, " dis-
creetly." Such a mind will always be approximating to the kingdom of truth. II.
There were further indications, in the particular thoughts which were in the
scribe's mind, that he was nearing the shores of truth. It is plain that he saw
before his eyes the true, relative value of the types and ceremonies of the Jewish
church. He recognized them as inferior to the great principles of truth and love.
His mind had travelled so far as to see that the sum of all true religion is love to
God and man. How is that love of God implanted in a man's breast ? Will the
beauties of nature do it? Will the kindnesses of Providence do it? Will the
natural instincts of gratitude do it ? I think not. There must be the sense of f or>
giveness. Within this he distinguished and magnified the unity of God. *♦ For
there is one God," <fec. The unity of God the argument for a unity of service. III.
And perhaps, still more than all, that enlightened Jew had been drawn near to the
Person of Christ. Consequently he consulted Him as a Teacher. Do we not know
that Christ is the kingdom of God, and that we are all in or out of that kingdom
just according to what Christ is to us ? To be indifferent to Him is to be very " far
off;" to feel the need of Him is to be "near." IV. The most affecting of i^
possible conditions is a nearness which never enters. If I had to select the most
awful passage in history, I should select the Israelites on the Canaanitish boundary
— they saw, they heard, they tasted, they were on the eve to pass ; — they disbelieved,
they did not go in, they were sent back, and they never came near again ; but their
carcases fell in the wilderness. It will be an unutterably solemn thing if Christ
shall, at the last, say to any of as, " Thou wast not far from the kingdom of
\ God." {J. VaugJian, M.A.) Critical hours : — The kingdom of heaven is a certaim
^condition of the human soul. CIEnsl st&fids contrasted with the condition of self-
ishness, vulgarity, animalism. See how it comes directly out of the controversy
here : " Thou shalt love the Lord thy God." The superior love of God is what we
mean by spirituality — the fulness of thought, imagination, and feeling in the direo-
tion of the Infinite. We know how men divide themselves up, and live under the
dominant influence of certain parts or faculties of their nature. One man lives
under the dominion of his passions ; another class of men build themselves into a
power in which property and collateral influences shall be central. These dominant
states in which men dwell will give us an idea of what it is to be in that oonditioD
in which Christ says men are not far from the kingdom of heaven. When a mai^
has attained the higher spiritual state, then he is in the kingdom of Qod. Then
has mind becomes laminoos. ^he man comes into union with God, and disoema
CHIP. XXL] ST. MARK. 501
truths which in his lower state he never conld discern. When, therefore, a man
ia said to be not far from the kingdom of God, he is where he can easily enter into
these higher perceptions and conditions. There are a great many persons who are
bordering on the kingdom of heaven even in this life. There are luminous hours
given to most men, and especially to men of large brain and intelligence. Persons
in vulgar conditions of life have certain hours given to them which they do not
understand, but which render them susceptible of being drawn into the kingdom of
heaven. 1. There are hours of vision in which men are under the direct stimulus
of the preached truth. STSomeliimes the same result is produced because they have
seen the truth embodied somewhere. A man goes to a funeral, and comes home
and says, " That was a great man ; I wish I were like him. I wish I were living on
a higher plane." 3. There are times of awakening that are the result of great
sorrows and affliction in some natures. When men see how uncertain is everything
that pertains to life, they say, •♦ I ought to have an anchor within the veil." 4.
When men are in great distress in their social relations there is oftentimes a
luminous hour. I do not say that if men neglect the first impulse to change their
course they will never have another ; the mercy of God calls a great many times ;
but very likely they will not have another that is so influential. If, however, in
such hours of disclosure, hours of influence, hours in which everything urges him
toward a nobler and a better life, a man would ratify his impulse to go forward,
even though at first he stagger on the journey, he would not be far from the king-
dom of God ; but if he waits, you may be sure that these hours will pass away and
be submerged. That is where the real force comes in. All the civilized world
sent out men to take an observation of the transit of Venus ; and when the con-
junction came it was indispensably necessary to the success of the undertaking that
the very first contact should be observed. An astronomer who had devoted six
months to preparation, and has gone out to take this observation, eats a heavy
dinner and takes copious draughts of liquid to wash it down, and lies down, saying,
♦• Call me at the proper time," and goes to sleep ; and by and by he is waked up
and is told, " The planet approaches," and, half conscious, he turns over and says,
'* Yes, yes, yes, I will attend to it ; but I must finish my nap first ; " and before
he is aware of it the thing is all over, and he has thrown away the pains he has
taken to prepare himself. It was important that he should be on hand to take the
observation on the second ; and the whole failed, so far as he was concerned, for
want of precise accuracy. A Httle girl sickened and died. She might have recovered ;
for the nature of the disease was such that if it had been watched, and if stimulants
had been applied at the critical moment, they would have been like oil in a half or
wholly exhausted lamp. But this was not known, and the child slept, and the
caretaker thought the sleep was all right, and it slept itself out of life. The child
might have been alive, walking and talking with us to-day, if it had not been for
that. There are such critical moments as those, and they are occurring in human
experience everywhere — in health, in sickness, in business, in pleasure, in love, in
poUtical affairs, in all the congeries of circumstances in which men live and move.
{H. W, Bucher.) Pharisaical righteousness to be exceeded: — L What is hebb
MSANT BT THB EINODOK OW GOD? U. WhaT IS MSAIIT BY BBINQ FAB VROM THIS
siNODOU ? 1. In regard of the means (1) absolute : Such as are wholly and uni-
versally deprived of all the ordinances of religion, as are the heathen (Ephes. ii. 13).
(8) Comparative remoteness, which we may notice of such as live within the bounds
of the church and compass of the Christian commonwealth, and yet have little of
the gospel sounding in their ears ; they live in some dark comer of the land. (3)
Besides all this there is a remoteness voluntary and contracted in those which tac
near the means, and yet never the nearer, who put the Word of God from them. 2.
In regard of the terms : Namely, the state in which they are at present, compared
with the state which they stand in opposition unto. They are far from the
kingdom of God as being destitute of tiiose personal qualifications in order to it
Their principles and Ufe are remote. The notoriously wicked (Ephes. v. 5 ; Bom.
zzi. 8 ; Bev. zxii. 15). Hypocrites or secret enemies. All such as are formal but
not ^ioas. 8. In regard of the event. In regard of God's purpose and degree con>
oemmg them. This was the case of Paul. He was far from God's kingdom ia
regard of the terms and his personal qualification ; yet, in regard of the event, was
rerj near. Sometimes the most notorious offenders are nearer conversion thaa
dvil persons. Let as look more minutely at the text. III. It is a wobd or ooii-
MXVDATioM : an acknowledgment of ^at reality of goodness which was in the Scribs^
and so enoonraging him in it If we see beginnings of good in any, to ohnrish Hmm,
S02 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. m.
We should not break the bruised reed, Ac, nor nip the sproutings of grace. 1. This
does honour God Himself in the bestowing of His graces. He that takes notice of
the streams acknowledges the fountain whence they proceed. 2. We draw men on
further and make them more willing to improve ; it is the whetstone of virtue.
3. By this course we occasionally work upon others who are much moved by such
examples. IV. It is also a wobd of diminution. Thou art not quite at home ;
you must go farther ; an excitement. We must not flatter so as to make beginners
satisfied with less grace, but urge them forward. The speech of our Lord was
efifectuai to him hereunto in sundry respects. 1. It showed him his defects and
imperfections, for which he had need to go further. There is no greater hindrance
to improvement than a conceit of perfection : when men think they are at their
journey's end, they will not step any further ; but when they are persuaded that they
are not at home, they will set them upon going (Phil. iii. 12, 13). 2. It showed him
also his hopes and possibilities : that is another excitement to endeavour. There is
hope of coming hither, for you are almost there. 3. It showed him also his
engagements, from what he had done already, to proceed. You have already made
some endeavour, do not decline and grow worse. We should imitate Christ in
helping others forward in religion, as Aquila and Priscilla did Apollos. Consider
these words as reflectively, as coming from Christ the speaker of them. We should
discern and distinguish persons. He discerned the teaching of the Scribes and
Pharisees in the foregoing part of the chapter ; now He discerns the sincerity of the
Scribe. V. Thb occasion whereupon His censure was passed. " When Jesus saw
that he answered discreetly." This includes those things. 1. Distinctly as to the
matter of his answer. He was right in the notion and in the thing itself. He
who knows anything of religion knows that it does not lie in outside duties, but in
a gracious soul ; yet he does not take away the forms. Those which are above
ordinances are below heaven ; and they which hate instruction shall never partake
of salvation. 2. He answered intelligently as to the principle from whence he
answered. He did not speak by rote, but he was able to give a rational account of
his religion. We must believe more than we can understand, and yet we must
also understand why we believe. 3. He was hearty and serious in it. He spoke
as a man that had some savour of that which he spoke. A man maybe an orthodox
divine, and yet but a sorry Christian. 4. He answered discreetly ; IJbat is prudently*
as to the manner of it. It was with humility, teachableness, and submission to
Christ. {T. Horton, D.D.) Near hut not secure : — He perishes for want of that
remedy which otherwise might be supplied withal. As it is sometimes in the
body; those which have great sicknesses, they many times get up and recover,
whilst those which have some smaller distemper, do perhaps die under it. What's
the reason of it, and how comes it about ? Why, the one, thinking himself to be in
danger, goes to the physician ; the other, being more secure, neglects him, and looks
not after lum. Thus it is with men also in religion ; civUity trusted in is further
off from conversion than profaneness in the effects and consequents of it. This
was the case of the Jews in comparison of the Gentiles. {Ibid.) Mere morality
alone i$ remote from the kingdom of God : — Civility left alone to itself would never
be grace, nor attain to the consequents of it. These two are at a very wide distance
one from tiie other, and left alone, would never meet together. Though mere
civility be not so far from the kingdom of God as absolute profaneness, yet it will
never come thither, no more than profaneness itself. A mere civil man is as truly
excluded from heaven as a profane man. I say as truly, though not in so great a
degree. To explain it to you by an easy and familiar resemblance : Dover (for
example) is not so far from Calais as London, yet he that goes no further than
Dover shall never come to Calais, no more than he that stays at London. So here, a
mere moral or civil person is not so remote from salvation as a debauched ; but yet if he
goes no further than morality, he will come short of it as well as the other. (Ibid.)
Nearness not possetsion : — A man may be almost in possession of a fortune ; but
thtttlidds not to ImiDredit at the bank. A man may be almost honest, or almost
sober ; but that will be no recommendation to a position of trust and responsibility.
And as with these, so with the kingdoms of mental force, health, and social in-
fluence ; nearness is not sufficient. How near it is possible to be to the kingdom
of God without being in, we know not. Nor do we know how it is possible to
remain near without entering ; unless it be that those who are near mistake near>
ness for possession. Notice : (1) A man is not necessarily in the kingdom of God
because an intelligent, mc^uirer. Distinguish between questioning with a view to
information, and questioning with a view to disputation. (2) A man is not
CHAP. XII.] ST. MARK. 608
necessarily in the kingdom of God because he knows truth wheii. he hears it. We
uaay assent to all Christ's utterances, and yet have no affection for Him as Saviour.
It is possible to make a false god of orthodoxy. A man may be a capital judge of
the soundness of a sermon, an adept as regards scripture knowledge, and yet only
" not far from the kingdom." (3) A man is not necessarily in the kingdom
because he can answer questions on Christianity. You may know the creed without
knowing the ChJISt. 'TSfere knowledge is not enough. You must repent, confess,
believe, serve. (J. S. Swan.) Not far from the kingdom of Ood : — There are,
then, different degrees of approximation to the light. Let us consider — I. Somb or
THOSE THINGS WHICH BRING A MAN NEAR THE KINODOM OF GOD. (1) A life associated
with some of its members and privileges. We have all known many whose lives
proved that they were true disciples of Christ ; we have observed the deepening
earnestness of their character, and seen it growing up into a purpose and con-
sistency unknown before. How have we been affected by this connection ? (2) A
spirit of reverence and candour towards Christ. Few things short of positive
immorality so deaden the spiritual perception as does habitual flippancy. It is,
therefore, a hopeful sign in a man, if he is not ashamed to own that he considers
some things too sacred to be sported with. (3) Kindliness and amiability of
nature. Christ never cast a chilling look on anything that is beautiful in human
nature. He acknowledged it to be good as far as it went, and sought to gain it for
the Divine and eternal. All kindly and generous impulses are wild-flowers of
nature, which, with the enclosure of Christ's garden and the hand of Divine
culture, would put on a rare beauty. (4) A desire to conform to God's law as far
as he knows it. If conscience be at work in any man, if it is keeping him from
doing what he believes to be sin, and leading him to aim at the true and right, he
is to be commended. And if there be any measure of humility and charity with
it, that man is certainly nearer the kingdom than he who is going on in known
sin, searing his conscience, hardening his heart, and building up obstacles against
his return to God. (5) An interest in the spiritual side of things. We meet with
so much indifference and materiahsm among the unconverted, that it is refreshing
to light upon one who rises above such a chilling element, and who gives evidence
that he beheves there is a God, and a soul, and a spiritual law laid down for man's
guidance — to see him not only listening, but putting intelligent questions, and
avowing, with honest conviction, how far he goes, though it may not be so far as
we desire. If we meet such a man in a kindly, candid spirit, we may win him to
the kingdom of Him whose heart yearns over the most distant wanderers, but
who cherishes a peculiar interest in those whose souls are feeling their way, how-
ever faintly, to the eternally true and good. II. What is needed to make a man
DECIDEDLY BBLONO TO THE KINGDOM OF GoD ? Our Lord's words imply that, with
all that is favourable in this man, there is still something wanting. He perceived
the claim of God's law, and admitted it to be spiritual ; but, so far as we can see,
he had no conviction of that hopeless violation of it which only a Divine deliverer
like Christ could meet. Then, too, while admiring Christ's teaching, he gave no
sign of his soul bowing before Him as a teacher sent from God, still less of his
being ready to follow Him as his spiritual leader, to cast in his lot with Him, to
walk in His steps and do His will. He lacked (1) the new birth. (2) The new
Ule. {John Ker, D.D.) On the verge of the kingdom : — I. The qualities which
CONSIST with the STATE HERE DESCRIBED. 1. Beligious knowledge. You may have
an accurate creed, an extensive acquaintance with the Bible, a power to discuss
with clearness and precision controverted points, without the will being influenced,
the affections purifled, the life and conversation regulated. 2. A life of blameless
nprightnees and integrity. Many things may tend to preserve you from the com-
mission of great sins, besides real love for God, e.g., a prudent regard to your own
well-being and well-doing in the world. 3. Strong convictions of sin, and even
consequent amendment. You may, like Herod, do " many things," and yet neglect
"the one thing needful." Outward reformation is not necessarily the result of an
inward moral change. 4. Carefully maintained habits of public and private
devotion. The fonn may be kept up long after the spirit has vanished. II. The
REASONS why peopIjB REMAIN IN THIS DANOEROU8 STATE. 1. A Want of real and
heartfelt love to God. We must give God and the things of God not only a place,
but the first place in our heart. The service He requires is that which springs
from a real preferHiice of Himself. 2. If God is not loved, something else must be
receiving an undue share of the affections; for man must bestow them somewhere,
whether in the attractions of his calling and profession, or in the cultivation of
504 TEE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [cha». xa
refined and intellectual tastes, or in an idolatrous fondness for the comforte oi
social and domestic life. The more naturally amiable a man is, the more beloved,
the more honoured, the more respected for his social and moral worth, for the
largeness of his charities, for the constancy of his friendships, for the kindness of
his heart, and for the blameless purity of his life, the greater danger there is lest
that man should be ensnared by mere human approbation, and close his eyes to the
danger he is in of falling short of the kingdom of God. III. Now, what is thb
MORAL VALUE OF THE STATE HEBE DESCRIBED ? If a loHg joumey Were sct before me,
it would be some comfort to have one to say, " Thou art not far from thy journey's
end." If all through life I had been proposing to myself the accomplishment of
some great object, it would be some comfort to know I was not far from attaining
the object of my ambition. This is on the supposition of continual progress, con-
stant advancement towards that object. But the spiritual condition we have been
copsidering is that of a person who is standing still — continuing year after year in
the same state of dead, motionless, nnadvancing formalism, ever seeking, bat
never striving to enter in at the strait gate, ever learning but never coming to the
knowledge of tiie truth. What, then, is the moral value of being, and continuing^
not far from the kingdom ? There is a door. We must be on one side of it, or
the other. There is no paradise of mediocrity. How sad to be overtaken by the
avenger, when close by the city of refuge— to have made shipwreck of our souls,
when just within sight of the harbour! (D. Moore, M.A.) Reasons why a man
who i$ near the kingdom should strive to enter it : — If there are some so far away
that they at times fall into a despair of ever reaching it, there are a greater
number so near that they sink into an apathetic contentment with being almost
Christians. Those who are far off may come to be nigh, when the children of the
kingdom are cast out. 1. Though the distance may not seem jgreat, there is
momentous importance in it. A great deal depends on being a Christian, and to be
a'Christian needs soihelhmg more than a decent arrangement of the natural life.
The end of man's soul can only be found in looking to God, and learning to stand
right with Him. Otherwise, it is to let a plant cling to the earth that was made to
climb, and that can bring forth its best flowers and fruits only when it ascends ; as
if a palace were tenanted in its dungeons and lower rooms, while the higher apart-
ments, commanding infinitely the best view, were left desolate ; or as if a city had
its streets crowded with traffic, and filled with the labour and din of busy life,
while the temples, which tell of man's dignity by pointing him to God, remained
in untrodden silence, and became the homes only of the dead. Can a man, who
has a soul, feel that it is well with him in such a state ? And yet thus he stands
while he refuses to admit God to His rightful place. 2. TheJharmful effect of this
position upon others. When Hheie is a nature which has so much of tfie beau^fiiil
w3 attractive outside the proper Christian sphere, it is apt to give shallow-minded'
persons the idea that the gospel is not so necessary as the Bible declares. 3. The
only security for permanence in what is naturally attractive in man, consists in
connecting it with God. The brightest and most beautiful things of the heart lie
all unshielded if God's shadow be not over them. The conflicts of life, the
assaults of passion, the irritations of care and ill- success, and the resentments
against man's injustice, will corrode and canker the finest heart if it be not con-
stantly drawing the corrective from a Divine source. Even without these trials,
whatever has not God in it is smitten with the inevitable law of decay. (JoJm
Ker, D.D.) Crossing the line : — It is as if a man were standing on tiie snore,
close to where a ship is moored. There is but a line between, and a step may
cross it. But the one is fixed, the other moves, and all the future of existence
depends upon that step, — new lands, a new life, and God's great wide world. In
the spiritual sphere to stand still is to fall away, to be left on that shore, doomed
to decav and death. To pass into God's kingdom is to move with it, not only
up to the grandeur of His universe, but into the heritage of Himself. {Ibid.\
Some are in the niburbs of the city of refuge : — I warn you against staying there.
Oh, what pity is it that any should perish at the gates of salvation for want of
another step t
Ver. 87. And the eommon people heard Him gleMj.—The gospel and the numet .-
—This passage refers to the reception given to the teachings of our Lord by the
masses of the people. I. The eeabbbs or Chbist referred to in the text are
designated "the conunon people." As the words in the original Greek mean,
litendlj, **the great multitude," it has been suggested that the better rendering of
xzi.] ST, MARK 50S
4h6 passage would be *' the great maltitade heard Him gladly.** The revisers of
the New Testament, however, have adhered to the rendering of the Aathorized
Version, and in the text of the Revised New Testament we have the long-familiar
words, " the common people heard Him gladly," while the alternative rendering,
** the great multitude," is relegated to the margin. A critio has remarked that in
the words " the great mnltitude " there is no intended antithesis or opposition to
the upper classes. This, to say the least, is questionable ; but of this we are cer-
tein, that, whether any distinction of classes was intended or not, " the great
multitude " necessarily includes the common people, By ♦• the common people " is
meant, in every country, the people without wealth, or power, or exalted rank, or
intellectual culture, or refinement of manners. They are the vulgar, the
aneducated, the lowly, the poor, the masses. The phrase *• the common people"
is suggestive of human inequality, and implies that the gradations of rank and
class obtain amongst men. But why, and how, it may be asked, should there be
these distinctions? Are not all men equal? To this I reply that. in certain im-
portant senses all men are equal. All men are equal by natural descent, as the
offspring of the same first parents. Then there is the base equality of natural
depravity and guilt. Over the entire race is written the inspired description :
" There is none righteous ; no, not one." And, thank God, there is the blessed
equality of a common redemption, an equal connection with the second Adam as
with the first. Notwithstanding the universal equality of man in the essential
aspects to which I have referred, there are other important respects, some of them
natural, and some of them artificial, in which men are not equal. There are
differences in physique, in stature, and strength, which are obvions to all. There
are still greater differences to be found amongst the minds of men. And whilst
the native and constitutional varieties of human intellect are numerous and great,
these differences are further increased in number and variety by education and
culture. The social inequalities which exist in society, and which are not
removed, bet are aggravated, by civilization, comprise, with other classes, the
common people. However class distinctions may be disliked, they appear to be
inevitable, at least to some extent, and in some variety. In recognizing the dis-
tinctions of ranks, classes, and conditions of men, we, as Christian preachers,
recognize existing facts — facts which exist now, and which have always eidsted.
The mission of the gospel, however, is to all men without distinction ; and if the
most numerous class, the great multitude, give it a favourable reception, it is a matter
of thankfulness now, as it doubtless was when the Author of the gospel was a preacher
of the gospel, causing the evangelist to make, in the midst of Christ's sayings, the
abrupt record, " and the common people heard Him gladly." U. The becbption
QIYER TO THE MINIBTBY OF JeSUS BY THE MASSES IS WOBTHT OV THOUGHT AND XNVE8TI-
OATioN. The question. Why did the common people hear Him gladly ? is a very
natural question, and is worthy of the best answer that can be given to it. The
reasons for their gladness are not assigned, and must be gathered mainly from
inference and from the hints of Scripture. No doubt ihe principal causes were
connected with the character of the Great Teacher Himself ; with the nature of
the truths which He taught ; with the style and methods of His teaching ; and
with the receptability of the hearers. 1. Jesus was no ordinary teacher, but in the
singularity of His greatness stood out in marked contrast to the scribes and rabbis
of His day, and even rose vastly superior to the ancient prophets of Israel, although
grand to sublimity were the characters of these holy men of old. There is an im-
pressiveness amounting to awe in the quiet self-assertion of EUs Messianic profes-
sions and Divine claims. 2. The favourable reception given by the masses to the
ministry of Jesus may be further accounted for by the nature of the doctrines and
precepts which He taught, and especially by the methods, style, spirit, and
sympathetic feeling of His teachings. Not less striking was the system of morals
which He set up and enforced. The common people heard Him gladly because of
the tone of certainty with which He taught. This teaching, as bMUtiful aa it was
true, is inteUigible to the humblest intellect. No wonder that at Jerusalem, when
He taught in the temple, " the conmion people heard Him gladly.*' lU. Thx tkxt
KB BUOOKSTIVS OT THE BELATIONS OV THK GOSPEL TO THK UASSBB OV MBN NOW, iSD TO
THEiB ATTiTUDB TowABDB IT. The gospcl is for the masscs, because the gospel is
for all. It comes with good news to every man, without distinction of rank or
condition. The gospel, like the Sabbath, was made for man — for universal man.
The impartial manner in which the Bible treats of the different elasses of society
it to me an additional proof of its Divine origin. Nor does it, on the other hand.
506 THE BIBLICAL ILLVSTRATOR, [cha». xxl
denounce the less favoured classes, and call them "the swinish multitude," "thf
great unwashed," "the many-headed beast," "the canatlte," "the dregs," ''the
scum." Such offensive language is never employed in that Holy Book, which
teaches us to honour all men ; which declares God to be the common Parent ; " the
Father of the spirits of all flesh " ; which says, " The rich and the poor meet
together ; the Lord is the maker of them all." And then, in consequence of the
saving grace of God, it places all upon the one platform of common privilege and
blessing. It levels up by dignifying the lowly ; it levels down by clothing the lofty
with humility ; and it says to both, " Let the brother of low degree rejoice, in that
he is exalted ; but the rich in that he is made low." The masses should listen to
the goppel now with delight, just as the common people in the days of our Lord
heard with gladness the Author of the gospel Himself. To hear at all is a point
gained, and is matter of thankfulness. The most deplorable characteristic of the
masses of the wage- earning classes is their habitual absence from the house of
God. They do not hear the gospel gladly, because they do not hear it at all. How
to get the masses to hear the gospel is one of the great religious problems of the
day. In order to success, the Christian ministry must enlarge upon the right
theme. That theme is gospel truth, of which the atonement is the principal
article, around which others are grouped. Hearing the gospel gladly is the duty
and privilege of all alike — the rich man with his gold ring and goodly apparel and
the poor man in vile raiment. {T. M'Cullagh.) The gospel arid the common
people: — The state of society in Palestine when Jesus appeared in one respect
resembled that of our ovm age and country — ^the habit of going to the synagogue
was for the most part restricted to the upper and middle classes, led by the scribes
and Pharisees. The mass of the working people were " scattered abroad as sheep
having no shepherd." They had sunk into a state of general neglect of religion.
To these conmion people Jesus Christ specially addressed Himself ; for, while the
learned men rejected Him, and sought only to entangle Him in His talk, these
heard Him gladly, welcomed His discourses, recognized His Divine mission, and
many of them repented at His reproof. We have an indication of this willingness
on the part of the common people to hear Him, in the words of this text.
I. Leaving the context, however, we shall first make some remarks on the ex-
pression "The common people" — an English phrase, which, without being an
exact translation of the original, sufficiently well conveys its meaning. The
common people : This is a description of the multitude of the population — com-
prising the whole of the working orders. The phrase implies that there are other
sorts of people who are not so common, but fewer and scarcer, and distinguishable
by certain eminent qualifications from the crowd around them. Well, there are
everywhere such common people, and people less common. What makes the
difference ? Society is built up of three classes of men — those who have remark-
able mind, those who have money and rank, and those who labour with their hands.
The latter class are by far the most numerous. They are nearly a hundred to one
of the others. These are the common people. The others are distinguished from
the crowd by some personal quaUfication. Illustration : — There always will be e
real difference between educated and uneducated men. A man may grow rich, and
push his way up into the middle or higher classes ; but, if his education has been
neglected and his taste uncultivated, neither he nor his family will be able to
establish themselves as the equals of their neighbours in a similar position
of wealth. It is not an artificial — it is a real difference that separates ^e two.
A cultivated rose really is a different flower from a dog-rose that grows in a hedge ;
and not all the airs of the hedge- flower will give it a place of equal rank with its
betters. There is, and there ought to be, a difference in rank between educated
and uneducated persons ; and, so far as the differences in English society represent
differences, not merely of wealth, but of mind and culture, you will never be able
to break them down, except by converting the common people into uncommon.
How very common many of the common people are— common in the sense of low
and degraded in thought, in feeling, in habit, in speech, in character I It is sad to
think how the wretched lives of the labouring multitude might be varied, and
rendered infinitely more comfortable and respectable, if they would. The single
particular of more cleanliness would itself double the comfort of life. The most
sunken type of human life may be raised into a fellowship with saints and angels.
The ladder Jacob saw was a glorious scale on which the lowest grade of humanity
may rise to heaven and to God. This ** oonunon people " may sU be dothed in
glory, honour, and immortality, and pat on for ever the splendours of eternity.
in.1 8T, MARK, 507
When, therefore, we look upon onr own multitudes of oommon people, alienated
from the redeeming influence, despising the ministers of Christianity, and
abhorring the churches, we ask, Why is it that we have so sadly failed ? When
Jesus preached, the common people heard Him gladly ; and, believing in Him, they
were changed into the same image, and became the sons of (rod. What was it in
His preaching that made them hear Him so gladly — that won their hearts, and
drew them to Him and to God ? Let us first mention two or tiiree things that
cannot be alleged as Christ's means of influencing the multitude. 1. It was not a
comical, a jocose mode of address. 2. Neither did He seek to propitiate the
eomnon people by flattering them with the promise of great temporal and social
rewards for adhering to His cause. 1. Then, the common people heard Him
gladly, because of the great and obvious sincerity and disinterestedness of
His character. All the suspicions which attended the ministrations of the
Pharisees were absent from Him. 2. They heard Him willingly because of the
spiritual depth of His doctrine, and the suitableness of His teaching to the mind
of the populace. He did not approach them with a long array of puzzling articles
and creeds, which a man must believe, or pretend to believe, or *• without doubt
perish everlasting." But He showed both His wisdom and His patience by teach-
ing even His own apostles only " as they were able to bear it." Love is still more
powerful than argument ; or, rather, it is the most powerful of arguments. 8. I
think we should mention that one of the most characteristic traits of our Lord's
teaching was its perfect manliness and freedom from affectation. 4. Once more ;
Jesus commanded the attention of the common people because He spoke to them
with a compassion which reached their hearts and won their affections. [E. White.)
On preaching to the common people : — I. First, then, we have no quarrel with you
because you are of the number of those who hear gladly. This is so far well. It is
one of the deadliest symptoms of those who perish, that to them the preaching of
the cross is foolishness. A very promising symptom most assuredly ; and it may
evidence the beginning of a good work which God may carry forward and bring to
perfection. II. But, secondly, though your hearing gladly be a promising symp-
tom, it is not an infallible one. The common people of Jerusalem heard gladly ;
and we need not repeat the awful disaster and ruin which, in the course of a few
years, overtook the families of that oommon people. III. But though to bear
gladly be not an infallible symptom, yet to hear the whole truth gladly is a much
more promising symptom than only to hq^r part of the truth gladly. We fear
that it is this partial liking for the Word which forms the whole amount of their
affection for it, with the great majority of professing Christians. They like one
part ; but they do not like another. Some like to hear of the privileges of the gospel ;
but they do not like to hear of the precepts of the gospel, and that the soul in whom
Christ is formed the hope of glory, will purify itself even as Christ is pure. IV.
But lastly, if it do not follow that because a man is a delighted hearer of the word,
he is therefore an obedient doer of it, how is he to become one ? What is there
which can bring relief to this melancholy helplessness ? We assert that the glow
of a warm and affecting impression is one thing, and the sturdiness of an enduring
principle is another. We again, then, recur to the question, how shall we give the
property of endurance to that which in time past has been so perishable and so
momentary f The strength of your own natural purposes, it would appear, cannot
do it. The power of argtunent cannot do it. The tongue of the minister, though
he spake with the eloquence of an angel, cannot do it. {Dr. Ghalmer$. ) Common
people heard him gladly .'—Luther when preaching to a mixed assembly, said : •• I
perceive in the church Dr. Justus Jonas and Melancthon, and other learned doctors.
Now, if I preach to their edification, what is to become of the rest ? Therefore, by
their leave, I shall forget that Dr. Jonas is here at all, and preach to the multi-
tude." So must I do at this good hour, asking those of you who are advanced in
the Divine life to unite your prayers with mine, that the word of the gospel maybe
blessed to the unconverted. ((7. H. Spurgeon.) Jesut and the common people :—
We are all common people as to the ground covered by His teachings. The duties
inouxnbent on us to God and man have in their principles, their motives, their spirit,
no diversity corresponding to the differences of condition and culture. You cannot
specify a primal obligation that admits of any exceptions. Yon can name none that
belong to the highly endowed and privileged, but not to the simple and unlettered
--none that appertain to the lowly, and not to those who hold a superior poiition
to Ihe ■oeial seale. The Sermon on the Mount may be aU lived out by the labourer.
tlM po(» widow, the person whose intelligence and sphere of action are of the very
S08 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [crip. la
narrowest ; and tA the same time there is no life so large, so high, so extended in
its relations and responsibilities, that it may not find here all that it is bound to be
and to do. Still more, we can conceive of no broader, fuller, loftier law of duty for
the redeemed in heaven, or for any created being in the universe. As regards our
trials and our griefs, too, we are all common people. There is no resource for high
or low, when the heart is overwhelmed, but trust in Almighty love — no prayer that
can bring an answer of peace, but ♦• Father, Thy will, not mine, be done." In the
presence of the mighty leveller Death we are all common people. {A, Peabody,
LL.D.) The Model Preacher: — Why did the common people hear Him gladly?
1. BECA.nsB Christ oavb a new and bboadeb meakimo to belioiom. He proclaimed
God's love to all, Jew and Gentile. Christianity touches the great heart of humanity.
Those who live at the bottom of society are, by nature, most open to conviction.
They are governed largely by their feelings : but religion is a matter of feeling ; it
is love. II. The atfections of life have thbib labqest scope and efteot among
THE LOWEST. He Said, " Come unto Me, all ye weary," <feo. Look at the manner
of our Lord's preaching. 1. He spoke as one having authority ; He revealed truth.
2. Much of our Lord's preaching was outside of synagogues, and in conversation with
the people. 3. His ministry was in the " demonstration of the Spirit and with
power." {W. E. Griffith.) Other gospels hidden from the common people : — In
Greece and Italy, while a few superior minds acknowledged a spiritual worship, the
common people were kept in brutish ignorance by the celebrated philosophers of
Greece and Rome. In Hindostan, though the doctrines of their complicated faith
are freely revealed to the Brahmins and their pupils, it is a law never to be violated
that the sacred books shall be locked up from the bulk of the people, and the Paria,
or lowest caste, is not only excluded from the common assemblies of the people, but
forbidden even to enter the temples to pray or to sacrifice. Nay, the Gentoo code
even enacts that, should a priest read the sacred books to the inferior orders, heated
oil, wax, and melted tin shall be poured into his ears ; and that, should any mem-
ber of these classes get passages by heart, he shall instantly be put to death.
{Eastern Manners and Custotns.) Preaching so as to be understood by the common
people: — Archbishop Tillotson, who has left imperishable memorials of his excel-
lence in his sermons, as well as in the traditional reports of his voice and delivery,
regarded it as the highest compliment ever paid him, when, on descending from
the pulpit, he overheard a countryman who came to London to hear him, ask his
friend with evident surprise, " Is that your great Archbishop ? Why, he talks just
like one of ourselves." And the greatest of all preachers, who " spake as never man
spake," must have been characterized by the same sublime simplicity ; for it ia
written of Him, " The common people heard Him gladly." Study the people : —
Mr. Hill always wished to be considered the apostle of the common people, in re-
semblance of Him whom the common people heard gladly, and in whose teaching
" the poor had the Gospel preached unto them. " But he who undertakes this work
of faith and labour of love will find that he has not to address angels, and some-
times hardly men. He will need to learn the advice which the philosopher was wont
to give his pupils, '• Study the people ; " or that which Cromwdl gave to his soldiers,
**Fire low." Had bis men fired high they would have done no more execution than
some of our preachers, who shoot over their hearers' heads. (Rowland HiU.) The
intuitions of the multitude : — " When an uninstructed multitude," says Nathaniel
Hawthorne, " attempts to see with its eyes, it is exceedingly apt to be deceived.
When, however, it forms its judgment, as it usually does, on the intuitions of its
great and warm heart, the conclusions thus attained are often bo unerring M to
possess the character of truths supematurally revealed."
Vers. 38-40. Beware of the Scrihes which love to go In lonff Nothing.—
Recklessness of awiftifion .-—There is the Synagogue of Ambition, whose bond
of union is me lust of place and of power. Let Diotrephes be its repre-
sentative, who, "loved to have the pre-eminence," and whom St. John censured
for this ambitious temper, which tempted him, though nominally a member —
perhaps a minister— of the early church, violently to reject the best Christians.
What are not men ready to do to grati^ an inordinate and insatiate ambition !
You know how the old Bomans built their miUtary roads. They projected
them in a mathematical line, straight to the point of termination, and every-
thing had to give way, there could be no deviation. And bo on went the
road, bridging rivers, filling up ravines, hewing down hilla, levelling forests,
cutting its way through every obstacle 1 Just a men set their lust upon aelf*
CBAT. xn.] ST. MARK. 60S
emolament, some height of ambition, the attainment of place, rank, power, and
he"w their way toward it, not minding what gives way. No obstacle is insurmount-
able, health, happiness, home-comfort, honesty, integrity, conscience, the law of
God, everything is sacrificed to the god of ambition. {Christian Age.) Yielding
the pre-eminence : — Old Dr. Alexander used to say to ua students, •' Young brethren,
«nvy is a besetting sin with the ministry : you must keep that abominable spirit
cinder." When a servant of Christ is willing to take a back seat, or to yield the
pre-eminence to others, he is making a surrender which is well pleasing to his meek
and lowly Master. One of the hardest things to many a Christian is to serve his
Saviour as a •• private," when his pride tells him that he ought to wear a *• shouider-
strap" in Christ's army. {Ibid.) Long prayers. — Prayers judged by wrigJU, not
length : — God takes not men's prayers by tale, but by weight. He respecteth not
the arithmetic of our prayers, how many there are ; nor the rhetoric of cur prayers,
how eloquent they are ; nor the geometry of our prayers, how long they are ; nor
the music of our prayers, the sweetness of our voice ; nor the logic of our prayers,
nor the method of them ; but the divinity of our prayers is that whieiiHe so much
esteemeth. He looketh not for any James with homy knees tbfough assiduity in
prayer ; nor for any Bartholomew with a century of prayers for the morning, and
as many for the evening ; but St. Paul, his frequency of praying with fervency of
spirit, without all tedious prolixites and vain babblings, this it is that God makes
most account of. It is not a servant's going to and fro, but the despatch of his
business, that pleases his master. It is not tibie loudness of a preacher's voice, but
the holiness of the matter and the spirit of the preacher, that moves a wise and in
telligent hearer. So here, not gifts, but graces in prayer move the Lord. But these
long prayers of the Pharisees were so much the worse, because thereby they sought
to entitle God to their Bin, yea, they merely mocked Him, fleering in His face.
{John Trapp.)
Vers. 41-44. And Jesru sat oyer against the treasury. — T?te treasury teat: — The
lesson taught by this narrative is — man's treatment of God's treasury the true
touchstone of piety. L God has ▲ tbbasury in His ohubcb. God has conferred
on man various kinds of material possessions and property for use and enjoyment.
Among these, money has become the portable representative and circulating
medium of all. Far above these possessions is the privilege of sacred worship.
This woold be an argent necessity and a lofty privilege even if man were holy. How
much more now that he is a sinner I As all material arrangements are costful, so
also is worship. If man could not meet this cost, God would. As man can. Why
ehould he not ? Is he not honoured in being allowed to do it ? Does not this test
his character? II. Men comtbibdtb to God's tbxasuby ni vabious mkasubes
AND VBOM VABions Moxmss. The Divine rule has ever been acoording to one's
power. This principle is definitely stated in an instance for universal guidance
(Lev. V. 7, 11.) : *' As God hath prospered. " *' Acoording to that a man hath." In
the temple scene before us, we behold the devotion of every coin, from the golden
mineh, of three guineas value, to the mite of brass, three-quarters of a farth-
ing. Motives also differ, often as much as coins. Some give from neeessity.
Some give from a sense of honesty ; if they did not give, debt and dishonour must
ensue. Some give with pride and self-righteousness even before God. Some give
from habit acquired from youth. Some give with holy love and joy, as a blessed
privilege and rich delight : thus did the widow ; so also have many done till now.
m. ThS SaVIOUB OBSEBVXS how UXS rSSAT His TBBASUBT, AND BT THIS Hs TBSTS
THXiB LOVB TO HiMSELT. As worship is man's highest act, its gifts should be rich
and substantial. Jesus beheld men at the treasury. He still directs His eye
thither; not that He needs man's gifts; but deeds and gifts test man's love;
also they elevate and refresh man's heart. Men test others' love by deeds and
gifts. Jesus challenges us to test the love of God thus. IV. Jesus estimates airrs
OBivwvr BT WHAT IS BBTAiNKD. This principle alone accounts for the higher worth
of the widow's gift. 1. This estimate of gifts acoording to what is retained agrees
with reason. Man's gauge of the moral value of a deed is the power of the doer.
The child is not expected to put forth the strength of a man. Less force is looked
for from the feeble than the strong man. A s all gift from a narrow income is
esteemed as much as a large gift from a vast income. 2. This treasury test accords
wiUi general life. This principle is acknowledge in all departments of life. Men
leadily meet the eost of their chosen pursuits and pleasures, in the measure of their
True patriots willingly pay national o larges, aeeording to their ability,
610 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, Coha*. in.
Faitbful hnsbands provide for their wives, in the measure of their power. Loving
parents nourish their children, as their resooroes allow. Should not Christians thns
provide for the Bervice and glory of Christ? Notice God's rebuke of Israel'a
neglect of this principle (Isa. xliii. 22-24; Jer. vii. 18). 3. This treasury test
accords with universal Scripture demands. God tested man's confidence and
honesty by the forbidden fruit. We know the sad issues. Jesus tests our obedi-
ence, love, and devotion by a treasury. Besides the large dedication of their pro-
perty to the national religious service, Israel were commanded to open a treasury to
the Lord, to build a tabernacle (Exod. xzxv. , xxxvi.) ; David to build a temple
(1 Chron. xxix.) ; Joash to meet the expenses of worship (2 Kings xii. 1, 9). Thia
woman would give her all to His worship. Who doubts her love T But did she aot
prudently ? She acted according to the rule. She acted for the hour and the occasion.
She would not make herself an exception to the rule. She gave her all to God.
She left the future to Him. Does any one think she starved by this t Behold
what a grand-eur the smallest service acquires, when it is done for God I Observe
what magnificent interest and enduring renown accrue from the devotion of a
creature's all to God. Jesus did not disparage the other gifts ; He simply indicated
their true relative value, and attached to the widow's His highest commendation.
Application : — 1. God has a treasury for human hearts. His own heart. He would
have your heart centre in love, safety, and joy in His own heart. He wants you
there, as a creature who can love, serve, and delight in Him. He claims and
demands yon for His. Christ has died to redeem and win you back to Him. Will
you give yourself to Him now just as you are, that He may make you all that He
can delight in, that you may find Him all that your soul can desire 7 2. Christ
gathers the funds of His kingdom in His Church. 3. All worshippers are required
to give as a duty. 4. To give cheerfully is to elevate a duty into a privilege.
5. Jesus thus tests His friends and foes, the obedient and the disobedient.
6. Jesus waits at the treasury for your gift, to receive it at your hands, to bless it,
and to teach you how to use it. If Christ is Lord of your mind, and heart, and
life, let Him be also of your silver and gold. (John Ross.) Helper$ of sacred
institutions: — Surely this must tell us what it did to those that stood by the
Messiah. The principle now is exactly the same as it was then, as certainly as any
principle governing mattex in natural laws. The young man may say, *' I am
willing to do my share for sacred causes and institutions ; " but if he means by
that, he will aid them after he gets all his parties, and operas, and sleigh-rides, and
everything besides that his heart can wish — the gift for which he will not deny
himself the least of these things, must be before heaven less than the least. And
the man of business may say, " I will help ; the Lord has been good to me, I will
be grateful ; " if gratitude takes the form of that he can well spare, and yet spare
nothing out of his life. But after he has purchased with the talents God gave him
as a steward everything for himself that he can possibly need, then he really
spares nothing, makes no sacrifices, gives only out of his abundance, and is stiU
open to that touch of fear, that he may not even be dealing fairly with the Prin*
oipal who has committed the talents to his trust ; the fear which good old brother
Cecil used to say, always gathers about stewards and agents that grow uncommonly
rich. So may we all give, no matter what we are, a poor selvage out of the web in
our ample and voluminous robes ; give the crusts after we have eaten the dinner ;
spare in the Lent what we could not spend in the Carnival — and it will be the
same to every one of us. The wise all-seeing eyes will see us, and what we are
doing, and the angel will write in his book of life, " He gave to God and good uses
what he did not need himself for any uses.'* Or we may give out of the real sub-
stance ; but if we do not give with a real sacrifice, I have no authority from the
Lord to say that the poorant Irish washerwoman in this town who gives to the
Lord, according to her light, her two mites, which make one farthing, gives it out
of her life to say a mass, even for the soul of her wretched sot of a husband who
was found dead in the Bridewe — does not take infinite precedence of the best and
most generous who have all they want, and then do ever so nobly out of the rest
{R. Colly er.) The widow's mitet: — I. Som or the thinob which ths imoioxnt
BBVEALB ooNCEBNiMa Ghbist Hiusklv. 1. It presents Him as the omniscient
Teacher of hearts. 2. By what a different standard Christ judges men's actions
from that they themselves judge by. 3. His eyes are upon the treasury and those
who contribute to it. IL Somb ow thb things which this ikoident bxvrals bb<
■PEOTiNo ouBSELVES. 1. It shows that offerings to the Lord's treasury mns^ bear
some decent proportion to what He has bestowed upon us. 2. Our offerings to be
. xn.] ST, MARK. 511
acceptable mnst be felt to inToIve some sacrifice. 8. Liberality is a means of grace.
III. Thebb abb hkbb lessons yoB THK WHOLE CHURCH. 1. What value God sets
on tittles. 2. Christ will strictly reckon with the Church for all the wealth bestowed
npon her. (James Moir, M.A.) Giving ourselves in the sacrifice: — ^schines,
when he saw nis fellow-scholars give great gifts to his master, Socrates, he being poor
and having nothing else to bestow, did give himself to Socrates, as confessing to be
his in heart and goodwill, and wholly at his devotion. And the philosopher took
this most kindly, esteeming it above all other presents, and returned him love
accordingly. The widow's two mites were welcome into His treasury, because her
heart was full, though her purse was empty. (Dr. Donne.) The power of mites
when eombined: — There is now — a.d. 1887 — in the French savings' banks the sum
of £100,000,000 sterling. These savings' banks are patronized only by workmen,
servants, and small shopkeepers. What missions might be founded and Christian
work accomplished, if professors would but cast their mites into the treasury.
(Somerset Express.) Over against the treasury : — One form of gift which is found
with increasing frequency is the in mem^riam gift. This touching form of offering
in rememberance of some loved one is a beautiful new departure from the old mode,
which too often expressed its loss only by the stately monument in the quiet
churchyard. The Christian inventiveness revealed in many of the contributions is
significant. A young lady gathers snowdrops in the fields around Carnarvon, and
realizes £2, which she sends to Dr. Bamardo. A friend of missions puts on one
side all the threepenny pieces he receives. Talents, such as painting and drawing,
are made to contribute towards sending the Gospel across the seas. In many
quaint ways Christian inventiveness helps on the work of God in the world.
Another class of contributions are the thank-offerings. One sends a shilling — " a
thank-offering for God's kindness to me on the evening of March 1, when I was out
in that severe snowstorm." An old lady of eighty sends a thank-offering because
she has had no doctors' bills for two years ! The thank-offerings of parents for the
recovery of children from sickness are also frequent. Then there is the sacrifice
pure and simple. The ring, the pencil-case, the brooch, the treasured coins, given
by devoted hearts who feel that " if missionaries are willing to give up the comforts
of home and kindred, and to sacrifice their Uves even for the love they have for the
Master, Christians in England should be joyfully ready to support them at fdl cost."
A form of contributions peculiar to these days springs from the growing practice of
abstainers to devote the money saved by giving up stimulants to missionary and
charitable societies, who thus save their money from doing harm, and spend it in
doing good. The last, but not the least, kind of offering is that which comes firom
the stricken themselves. The life-long invalid, the afflicted, the maimed, with a
sympathy bom of pain, and a Chnst-like desire to relieve and help other lives, are
among the most frequent contributors to our societies. The concealment by many
of the donors of their identity is another feature of present-day charity. In this
present time this anonymity brings its reward, for it saves them h-om the reiterated
requests of the importunate letter- writers. " If thou hast abundance give alms
accordingly; if thon hast but a little, be not afraid to give according to that
little. (Edward Dakiiu) Small gifts : — Jesns commends the worshipper who put
in the smallest gift. This was strange. Why did He do it ? Two reasons. 1. Be-
cause she gave her heart with it : and God wants hearts, not coins, and coins only
when they carry with them hearts. 2. Because hers was really a great gift in pro-
portion to her means. Sixpence from one may be really more than a sovereign
from another. The sixpence may come from one who has but few shillings a
week ; the sovereign from one who has thousands a year. This woman gave alL
Hers was a great sacrifice. The duty of giving in proportion to our means : — Dean
Ramsay relates of a certain penurious laird in Fife, whose weekly oontributbns to
the church collection, notwithstanding his largely increasing wealth, never exceeded
the sum of one penny, that he, one day, by mistake, dropped into the plate at the
door a five-shilling piece, but, discovering his error before he was seated in his pew,
hurried back, and was about to replace the silver coin by his customary penny,
when the elder in attendance cried out, " Stop, laird, ye may put what ye like in,
but ye maun tak' naething out.** The laird, finding his explanations went for
nothing, at last said, " Aweel, I suppose I'll get credit for it in heaven." *< Na, na,
laird," said the elder, "yell only get credit for the penny." It is not the amount
of our gift, but the proportion of it, and the spirit of it which are noticed, and com-
mended by Ghrist. The widowU gift of her sons : — The eldest son of a widowed
mother went oat to missionary work in Western Africa. In a short time he fUIed
51t THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [ohap. xu.
a missionary's grave. There was another son left at home, and he eame to hit
mother and said, *• Mother, let me go, and I will take my stand by my brother's
grave. I will preach to my brother's people. I will tell them of my brother's God."
He went, and it was not long before there were two graves in that heathen land,
and the brothers were sleeping side by side ; at least their ashes were ; their spirits,
no doubt, were safe in the heavenly land. The news came to the mother, and the
story said she wept sore. Her mourning friends tried to comfort her. •* Oh," she
said, " you do not understand my grief. I am not mourning because two of my
lads have filled a missionary's grave in Africa. I grieve because I have not a third
son to die in the same cause." {Handbook to Scripture Doctrines.) Motive
the meoiure of the acceptability of giftt: — Xenophon tells us of Socrates, that when
he sacrificed he feared not his offering would faU of acceptance in that he was poor ;
but, giving according to his ability, he doubted not but, in the sight of the gods, he
equalled those men whose gifts and sacrifices overspread the whole altar; for
Socrates ever deemed it a most indubitable truth, that the service paid to the Deity
by the pure and pious soul was the most grateful service. As with what Plutarch
relates of Artaxerxes, out on a royal progress, during which people presented him
with a variety of gifts ; but " a labouring man, having nothing else to give him, ran
to the river, and brought him some water in his hands. Artaxerxes was so much
pleased that he sent the man a gold cup and a thousand darios." (Francit Jacox.)
Give till you feel it: — A religion which costs nothing is good for nothing. Like a
certain kind of faith which we read of, "it is dead, being alone." How much
meaning was conveyed in the reply which one man made to another who offered to
contribute a small amount to some benevolent object, and said, '* I can give this
and not feel it 1 " •* Would it not be better for you, my friend, to increase it to
such an amount that you will feel it ? " So in every case. A person should feel
what he does, and should do what he will be likely to feel, or morally there will be
but very little good resulting from it. {Quarterly Journal.) Giving her all to
God : — In the beautiful Island of Ceylon, a few years ago, the native Christians
decided that they must have a church built for themselves. To the amazement of
all, Maria Peabody, a lone orphan girl who had been in the schools at Oodooville,
came forward and offered to give the land upon which to build — the best site in her
native village. Not only was it all she owned in this world, but it was her
marriage portion, and in making the gift she renounced all hopes of being mar-
ried. As this, in the East, is regarded as an awful step, many thought her
beside herself, and tried to dissuade her from her purpose. ** No," said Maria,
" I have given it to Jesus, and as He has accepted, you must." Maria Peabody's
schooling had been paid for years by a coloured servant in Salem, Massachusetts,
whose wages were rather more than a dollar (48.) a week. {Light and Life.)
Tlie widov'i donation: — Eeligion is the road to honour. Little did this woman
imagine she was doing an act that would be handed down, for the admiration of
mankind, to the end of time. This is the only instance recorded in history, of an
individual going the whole of his or her possessions. Observe from this incident :
— 1. That God employs man's instrumentality, for carrying on His work. Not of
necessity, but to exhibit His grace and power. 2. That we should combine in oar
rdigion, piety, zeal, and humanity. We must come to Christ ourselves, before trying
to benefit others. We must make it a matter of conscience to influence others for
good. While caring for men's souls, we must also have regard to the comfort of
5ieir bodies. 3. That the Saviour is ever watching His treasury, and those who
come up to it, or pass it by. He notes all our opportunities for doing good, and
whether we embrace or reject them. How this should impel us to look to oar
motives, spirit actions ; and stimulate us to do our utmost. 4. That there is great
propriety in contributing to collective funds for public objects. The relief of men's
bodily miseries cannot be met without hospitals, dispensaries, &o.; so it is our dal^
to support them. Especially should we take care that everything connected with
public worship is well sustained. It was a gift for the service of the temple that
won this high commendation from the Saviour. {J. A. Jame$.) The mdow*$
farthing : — In that court of the temple called the court of the women, there stood
thirteen vessels, shaped liked trumpets, to receive offerings. Shaped like trumpets I
surely a sarcasm is lurking here. As tlie rich man drops in much, the clash of it
sets the trumpet blowing, and all the temple knows what a liberal man is passing
by. But two mites would cause the trumpet to sound very faintly, if at all.^ Yet
Love can see love, and will honour it. Christ views it not relatively to what it will
boy, bat to the love that gave it. Bat there is no ascetic or envious disparagement
caiAp. zn.j ST. MARK. 513
of riches in Christ's praise of this tiny ofifering. Great gifts are jast as capable of
illustrating pore motives as small ones. 1. If, then, Christ thought much less of
the rich men's gifts than they did themselves, it was because they gave (1) for
ostentation, loving (so to say) the trumpet much more than the temple, (2) without
a grateful sense of personal obligation, and (3) with little spiritual appreciation of
the true glory of Jehovah's service, or (4) because usage so required, and policy urged
their observance of the usage, though their heart inwardly grudged the offering. 2.
And if Christ thought much more of the widow's gift than any of these men would
have done, or even His own disciples, it was because of (1) the grateful love she
manifested, (2) the deep sense of religious blessings she evinced, (3) the self-respect
that valued a share in spiritual obligations, and would not allow penury to be an
excuse for withholding an offering, (4) that confiding trust shown towards God,
which would not divide the last farthing with Him, giving Him one mite and keeping
the other, but which gave him both. (T. T. Lynch.) Offerings for God's treasury :
— Observe these four points. I. Thk contrast. It is not the poor, or widows,
that Christ contrasts with rich men, but a widow. She was, perhaps, in almost
as great contrast to many of her own class as to these ; for many of the poor
forget God, and offer Him nothing, because they have but little ; and many widows
make widowhood worse by murmuring. But circumstances may be imagined in
which it would not have been right for the widow to give away her last farthing.
But why suppose she was in such circumstances ? A heart that so loved God,
as hers did, would understand Him too well to divert the last farthing from the
service of her sick child, if she had one. Then, perhaps, God would have received
only a mite. She threw herself utterly on God's Providence, and would not with-
hold from Him even the half of her last farthing. U. The lesson. Christ might
have said, " See how these rich men can offer openly in the temple ; how much better
would it be to give private aid to this poor widow. That would be real love ; this
is but paraded zeal." He might have said this, but He did not. Instead of
directing attention to what the poor want done for them, He pointed to what they
(in spite of their poverty) do ; instead of teaching His disciples liberality towards
them. He here bids all men learn from their liberality. UI. The Masteb's
ATTITUDE. Christ "sat over against the treasury," as if placing Himself there on
purpose to observe. Our gifts are offered under the Divine eye. We know the
difference between a bad half-crown and a good one ; but we think a half-crown
from a bad man and from a good one of the same value. Christ, doubtless, thinks
otherwise. He tries the heart as well as the money ; notices what our spiritual temper
is, and what proportion our gifts bear to our possessions. IV. The motive. Though
money came plentifully to the treasury, and the splendid temple was sustained by
splendid offerings, yet this vigour of the "voluntary principle" did not prevent
Christ from being crucified, nor avail to keep the temple standing. It was not the
purified will of believing hearts that brought the plentiful money. There may be
strong motives for supporting "religion," when there is in the heart bitter enmity
against the very religion sustained. (Ibid.) The woman who gave her all : — L God
still has a treasury open. II. The poorest may make some offering. III. Christ
still watches over against the treasury. lY. God's estimate of gifts differs from
ours. V. Gk)d looks at motives as well as gifts. YL An individual unconscious of
God's high estimate. [T. Sherlock, B.A.) The widow's acceptable offering : — I.
Great hearts are often found where great sorrows have been before them. H. Little
services and little gifts are needed by man and noted by God. If we can only give
even two mites, God will not despise the offering. HI. Had this woman listened
to excuses, she would have lost her great honour and reward. IV. More justice
should be done to the giving of the poor, for their generosity still supasses that of
any other class. God notes their gifts of money, whose necessary smallness permits
them to be overlooked by men. 0 what a gospel for the poor is here ! (R. GUwer.)
The widow's offering : — I. The occasion dbsceibed. GiU says there were thirteen
chests placed, six of which were to receive the freewill offerings of the people. Mao-
knight says they stood in the second court, and each had an inscription, signifying
for what use the offerings were destined. The chief objects were to repair and
beautify the temple. The whole, however, was voluntary. IL Thb lesson taught.
That the value of the offering depends chiefly on the state of the heart 1. Some
that were rich gave liberally. (1) No doubt, some gave ostentatiously. (2)
Perhaps some gave in a self-righteous spirit. (3) Probably some gave only because
it was customary. (4) Possibly some gave dishonestly, who should have paid their
debts ; and thus gave '* robbery for burnt-offering," which God declares thai He
83
514 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chaf. m.
abhors. (6) Others, no doubt, gave grudgingly. 1. Of the poor widow it u said
that she gave but two mites, which make a farthing. What were the motives which
rendered her offering so precious in the Saviour's sight? (1) Her love to God. (2)
Her trust in His providing care. IIL But what would Chbibt have said to thosb
WHO OAVE NOTHING, W THXBS WBBK ANT SUCH WHO PASSED IN BEVIBW BBFOBB HiM ?
(Evangelical Preacher.) Two mite$ ;— A woman who was known to be very poor,
came to a missionary meeting in Wakefield, and offered to subscribe a penny a week to
the mission fund. ♦• Surely," said one," you are too poor to afford this ? " She replied,
" I spin so many hanks of yam a week for my living, and I'll spin one hank more,
and that will be a penny a week for the society." Loving and giving .'—Ytom
this passage we may learn : L That God is pleased with offerings made to Him and
His cause. II. That it is our duty to devote our property to God. We received it
from Him ; we are stewards, <fec. III. That the highest evidence of love to the caase
of religion is not the amount given, but the amount compared with our means.
rV. That it may be proper to give all our property to God, and to depend on His
providence for the supply of our wants. V. That God does not despise the humblest
offering, if made in sincerity. He loves a cheerful giver. VI. That there are none
who may not in this way show their love to the cause of religion. The time to begin
to be benevolent is in early life. VII. That it is every man's duty to make inquiry,
not how much he gives, but how much compared with what he has ; how much self-
denial he practises, and what is the motive with which it is done. VIII. Few
practise self-denial for the purpose of charity. Most give of their abundance— what
they can spare without feeling it, and many feel that this is the same as throwing
it away. Among all the thousands who give, how few deny themselves of one
comfort, even the least, that they may advance the kingdom of Christ. {A. Barnes^
D.D.) The widow's mites : — I. Christ's notice of apparently trivial things.
This is not incompatible with true greatness. Things are not always as trivial as
they appear. The fact affords encouragement to those whose means are small and
whose opportunities are few. IL The nature or true benevolence. 1. It is
unobtrusive. The widow did not want to be observed. *• Take heed that ye do not
your alms before men," Ac. The gifts most acceptable to God do not always appear
in the subscription hst. 2. It is spontaneous. " The Lord loveth a cheerful giver."
Love must rule us in giving, as in other matters. The word charity stands for
love. 3. It is self-denying. God is best pleased when our gifts cost us something.
He judges less by what is given than by what is left behind. 4. It involves trust
in God. She cast in all that she had. Faith asks no questions. It concerns itself
with present duty, and leaves the future with God. Have you of your abundance
or of your penury cast into the treasury? If Christ gave Himself for you, is it
unreasonable that He should ask you for your money? (Seeds and Saplings.)
The due proportion of Christian benevolence : — I. As rr bkgards thb individuaii
contributing. 1. There should always be a due proportion observed between an
individual's contributions and his means. Appearances are often considered. Pre-
cedent and example have a painful influence. Strongly execited feelmg is not
unfrequently a cause of error and of sin in our benevolent contributions, nor must
it be concealed that men are often lured, in the present day, by the fame and
splendour of an institution, rather than by its intrinsic merits, to contribute to its
funds. There should be a due proportion observed between an individual's con-
:tribution8 and his means ; a man's means are to be determined by what he has —
what he owes— what he can obtain by exertion— and what he can save by economy.
2. There should be a proportion observed between an individual's contributions and
aiis station. 8. There should also be a proportion between our benevolent con-
tributions and our opportunities of doing good. II. To the objects of benevolbnt
contribution. The souls of men are to be preferred before their bodies ; we must
do good to them who are of the household of faith. Remarks : 1. See that what
you give in the cause of Christian benevolence is from love to Christ, and to the
souls of men. 2. Give as much as possible in secret, and this will at once relieve
you from the suspicion that you give to be seen of men. 8. Never pride yourself
on what you give. 4. Consider what Christ gave for you, and be ashamed that you
should give Him bo little in return. (T. Baffles, LL.D.) The widow's gift .—
I. The orvEB : a widow, and a poor widow. The widow alone understands widow.
hood ; it must be felt to be known. God knows its grief. Sorrow often makea
people selfish, but this benevolent donor was a widow, and she was poor. Perhaps
a young widow whose husband had been cut off before he could provide for his own
Jioose. Poverty, like rain, comes tcom several quarters, and is not easy to be borne.
«HAP. xn.] ST. MABK. 615
whether the wind that brings it blow from east or west, from south or north.
With poverty we generally associate getting, not giving. This poor widow was
pious and generous ; the tree is known by its fruit. II. The oift. Money was
her gift ; hard to get, hard to hold, hard to part with ; the severest test of religious
integrity. The commercial value is small, but the value to her is great. Wealth
called it small, commerce called it small, religious custom reckoned it small ; but
in relation to the means and heart of the donor, and in the judgment of God, the
gift was exceeding great. III. The place, oe scene of the gift. It was bestowed
in the temple of God, deposited in one of the thirteen boxes in the women's court.
It is meet and right that we give where we receive. IV. And what, fourthly, was
THE OBJECT OF THIS GIFT ? These two mites were given as a freewill offering to
the support of the temple, its institutions and its services, and the offering them
with this intent constituted this " certain poor widow " a contributor to aU that
he temple yielded — to all it offered to heaven, and to all it gave to the children
of men. The incense and the light and the fire and the shewbread and the daily
sacrifices were, in part, this woman's oblation. She helped to clothe the priests in
their holy garments, to supply the altars with oblations, and to preserve the order,
decency, and beauty of the house of God« Say not, she gave only two mites. This
voluntary offering, although commercially so small, as really contributed to sup-
port the temple, as the immense revenue derived from tithes and other appointed
contributions. Jehovah received these two mites, and the world was by this offer-
ing made a debtor. V. The spirit of the offering. Was it gratitude for benefits
received ? She may have valued more highly the benefit of God's sanctuary, since
she became a mourning widow, than while she was a rejoicing wife. She had there
heard words of consolation which had healed her wounded heart (Psa. Ixviii. 6 ;
cxlvi. 9). What impulse opened her hand ? Was it the force of haUowed and
pleasant association ? Her fathers worshipped there. She could say, " Lord, I
have loved the habitation of Thy house " (Psa. xxvi. 8). The spirit of the offering
was the spirit of true piety and of real godliness. VI. The Divine recognition
OF THE gift. Jesus Christ saw the gift, estimated, approved, and commended the
giver. He did not speak to her, but of her, in an undertone to the disciples. " No
person takes any account of what I do," some disciples are heard to complain.
Thy fellow-servants may fail to recognize, but the Master never fails. Jesus is in
a position to see, and He is disposed to observe. Everything that is human ie
interesting to Him, and all that is right is attractive. Some people only see faults.
Jesus approves all that He can approve. He gives the testimony of a good con-
science. Vn. Look at the fact that Jesus Christ calls attention to this
giFT. 1. That the greatness of a gift depends upon the possessions of the in-
dividual after the gift has been made. 2. That grief need not hinder giving. The
child of sorrow doubly needs the returns which acts of piety and charity invariably
bring. 3. And shall we not be taught by this incident to learn well-doing from
each other? The Head Teacher bids His disciples learn from this certain poor woman.
He makes her a kind of object lesson. 4. Let us learn to act as under our
Great Master's eye. He sees us. He speaks of you, it may be to His angels and
glorified saints. And what can He say of you? (S. Martin.) Giving in the
sanctuary : — It is meet and right that we give where we receive. The tree yields
its fruit on the very spot where it has been nourished by the earth ; there, where it
has received the light and air and heat of heaven, does it hold up as into the
face of heaven its increase. The child gives joy to the parent in the home whose
very walls remind the mother of her anguish. The place of an unsealed spring is
the seat of a flowing fountain. And it seems but meet that, in the place where
we receive, we give. And what a place of blessing is a true house of the Lord ; it
is Bethel and holy ground, it is beautiful Zion and Bethesda, a house of light, and
life, and love, of healing, and salvation, and redemption. (Ibid.) Christ mindful
of our love service : — He who knows how much I am loved, knows how I love ; He
who knows all that I receive, and how I receive, knows what I give, and in what
spirit. It is possible that my very gifts to His Church may grieve Him. Not that
He is hard to please; He waits, looks, longs to delight in the doings of His
disciples. Their good works may be concealed like violets in the tall grass of the
forests, but He will scent their fragrance; they may be feeble as the new-bom
infant, but He will rejoice over them as over the bright beginning of blessed
life ; they may be imperfect as some flower or fruit in a formative state, but He wilj
see the end from the beginning; they may wear an appearance of evil, but He will
look deeper than the surface ; they may be condemned by His disoiples, bat they
610 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. ((
shall be approved by Himself, and He will show to the universe that He is not on-
righteous, to forget any work of faith or service of love. (Ibid.) The twt
mite$ : I. That thbeb may bb more splendour in bomb obscure thino we never
stop to notice, and would not care for if we did, than there is in the things thai
DAZZLX CUB 8I0HT iND CAPTIVATE OUR HEARTS. 1. We have all tried to notice this
among children. One little child runs all the errands, makes all the sacrifices,
but beyond that is a little nobody ; plain, small ; not brilliant. This is the two-
mite child of the family ; the small piece of home heroism, of a worth surpassing
all the gifts and graces of the household besides ; the little one Chiist would see if
He came and sat down in the house. 2. We notice this again in the Church.
Some naturally attract applause by their gifts ; others no more attention than this
widow with her two mites. They say their poor word. It is their sorrow that they
cannot do more; but the joy of heaven that they do so much. 3. This is true of
the whole life we are living. There are many never seen or known who cast in
more than the brilliant characters who cast in of their abundance. 11. It was
an illustration of this law of our life, that the most God-like deed is that wmcB
BELONGS to THE SACRIFICES WE MAKE, giving for sacred things and causes that
which costs us most, and is most indispensable, and yet is given back to God.
Nothing was worth a thought in this poor widow's gift, but the sacrifice it cost her
to give. The whole worth of it lay in that piece of her very life which went with
it, but that made the two mites outweigh the whole sum of silver and gold cast in
by the wealthy, which cost nothing, beyond the effort to give what a very natural
instinct would prompt them to keep. They gave of their fulness, she of her
emptiness; they of the ever-springing fountain, she, the last drop in her cup. It
was not the sum, but the sacrifice that made the deed sublime. III. We learn, in
this simple and most obvious way, of that whole world of grace and truth that
culminated on Calvary. {R. Colly er.) The icem .---Here comes a merchant ; the
times are hard, he tells you ; nothing doing, taxes heavy, losses large, and things
so bad generally, that you have to say, " What a misfortune it must be to be a
merchant." But you have to notice that his chariot is of the latest style, and by
the best maker ; his robes of the finest texture and colour ; his diamonds of the
purest water ; and, altogether, for a man in such hard trial, he looks very well.
Yesterday he looked over his accounts ; he will not tell you wha»t he saw there, but,
certainly, he did not seem any worse for the sight. This morning, before he goes
to his store, he will go to the temple ; he will be thankful, to the extent of offering
a lamb ; and then there is a little balance, when all is done, that he would like to
drop into the treasury. A little balance ! but it would buy all that widow has in
this world, the hut she lives in, all the furniture, and all the garments she has to
keep her from the cold. Very low the priest, who stands by the chest that day,
bows to the generous gift ; the holy man would be horrified if you told him he was
worshipping a golden idol, but it is true for all that. Then the great merchant
passes on, and you see him no more ; he has given out of his abundance ; he will
not need to deny himself one good thing for what he has given. If a new picture
strikes his fancy, he will ask the price, and then say, "Send that round to my
house ; " he will have his venison, all the same, whether it is a sixpence a pound
or a dollar ; and at the end of the year he will have his balance undamaged, in
spite of the hard times. He has given out of his abundance ; but, considering the
abundance, he has not given as the widow did. Then there comes a lady. Yon
can see that she is not looking well, and the world goes hard. This has been
a hard year for her. Sbe has had to give parties, and attend parties ; to dress,
and dance, and smile when she wanted to weep ; and lose her rest, and bo a
slave that the slaves themselves, if they had any sense of what she is, and has to
do, might pity. The season is over, and now she must think of her soul — ^her
poor soul. She must repent in dust and ashes ; go to the temple ; give to the poor,
and to the support of the true faith ; and altogether lead a new life. It is the
most exquisite " make up " of dust and ashes on the avenue that morning. She
sweeps on in her humility, gathering her garments of penitence about her, lest
even a fringe should touch the beggar at the gate. She stops a moment to give her
gift ; low bows the priest again as she passes, and she takes her place among the
women, and says her prayers, and her soul is shriven. May we venture to watch
her back to her home, and see the luxury that waits her ? Is there one jewel, or
one robe Uie less for what she has given, or one whim the less gratified, when the
time for penitence is over, and the season opens ? I see no sign of that. I nevei
hear her say, " This and that I will forego, that I may give. She has given of hai
OBAV. XXL] 8T, MARK, 611
abnndanoe; the simply porohased a new laxnry, and got it obeap, and she fades
out of sight and ont of life. Yon see others oome with better gifts, not so much, it
may be, in mere money value, but more in those pore eyes that are watching that
day, not for the amount of the gifts, bat for their meaning. A decent farmer
follows the fine lady, forehanded, and fuU of industry. His crops have done well ;
his bams are full ; his heart is open. He has come to the city to sell his produce ;
has sold it well, and is thankful, and he will make his offering of two doves in the
temple, and give something for the saored cause, and to the poor besides, because
his heart is warm and grateful, and, as he says, he will never feel what he gives to
God and the poor ; there will be plenty left at the farm when this is given ; and
then who knows but that the Lord will give a greater blessing next year, for does
not the wise book say, " He that giveth to the poor lendeth to the Lord, and that
which he giveth shall be rendered to him again ? ** So it is at once a free gift, and
in some way, a safe investment. He is glad to give the money, and yet to feel that
this is not the last of it. Very pleasantly the holy man smiles on him too, as he
drops his shekels and passes on ; he has been there before ; he will come again.
He is one of those fast friends who can always be counted on to give while the
fruitful fields answer to the diligent hand. He is a sort of country connection to
these commissioners of the Most High, and will always be received, as he is to-day,
with grace and favour. And very low indeed the good man bows to that stately
centarion who comes now. He is not a member of this church ; indeed, he is not
a member of any church ; for, hke all his nation of that rank, he thinks that all
churches are very much alike, and none of them of much account, except as
managers of the common people. But it is a good thing to keep in with them ;
there is no knowing what you may want ; and so he comes now and then, and
looks on at the service, tosses his Boman gold into the chest, nods and smiles to
the cringing priest, and feels that he has done well. Then with all these come the
good and sincere men and women, with not much to spare, but who make a
conscience of giving, and manage to get an education for their children, and every-
thing decent ; who never want any simple and wholesome thing they need, and are
able to lay up a little beside for a rainy day ; as various as they are now, they were
then, who would do something for these things which to them were so sacred ; and
it was when givers like these came, that the widow came with her two mites — the
smallest matter, possibly, that anybody ever thought of giving. I think if she was
Hke most women, the utter littleness of what she had to spare, would be a shame
to her ; she would be tempted, on the mere ground of her womanly pride, to say,
'• Since I cannot give more, I will not give anything : to put in these two mites
when others are pouring in their gold and silver, will only show how poor I am."
So it was like giving her life to give so little ; and yet these two mites that meant
so Httle to the treasury, meant a great deal to her. They meant darkness, instead
of a candle on a winter's evening ; a pint of milk, or a fagot of sticks, or a morsel
of honey, or a bit of butter, or a bunch of grapes, or a pound of bread. They
meant something to be spared out of the substance and essence of her simple and
spare living. And this these wise and loving eyes saw at a glance. Jesus knew that
the two mites were all she had ; and so as they made their timid tinkle in the coffer,
they outweighed all the gold. He saw what they came to, because He saw what
they cost, and so His heart went with the two mites; and while the holy man, who had
made such deep obeisance for the larger gifts, let this trifle pass unnoticed , Christ caught
up the deed and the doer, and clad them both in the shining robes of immortal glory.
The poor widow^s two mites: — 1. Ses God's obdinancb that His cause should be
BUPPOBTBD BY OUB GIFTS. U. ThAT THB LoBD NOTICES THE GIFTS WE CAST INTO HiS
TBEASDBT. HI. ThAT THE LORD PASSES JUDGMENT ON THOSE WHO OAST THEIB GIFTS
INTO HiB TBEA8UBT. He declared she had given more than all the rest. 1. She had
given more, because she had given with a larger heart, with more real love. 2. She
had given more in proportion to her possessions. 8. She had given more in the
force of her example. 4. She had given more in its beneficial influence on the cha-
racter of the giver. 5. She had given more in the relation of the gift to its future
reward. Learn : 1. The right use of money. 2. The value of the offerings of the
poor. 8. That the Lord sits over against the treasury. {W.Walters.) The power
of pence : — Those whose means are small may take encouragement to give what thej
ean. There is a mighty power in the combination of littles. We see this in nature,
and in the institutions of society. One star would afford small hght to the mid-
night sky, but oountless myriads shining together brighten it with their glory. One
drop of rain eonld have no moistening effect on the earth's dry and thirsty soil, but
518 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap. xn.
millions of such drops make the barren land fmitftil. There are two bodies of
religionists who show us in a striking manner what may be done by the combination
of a large number of small contributions, by regular, systematic giving on the part
of all their members, even the poorest. I refer to the Boman Catholics and the
Wesleyan Methodists. Both sects number the poor largely among their members,
and derive no inconsiderable support from their o£ferings. The Boms they annually
raise furnish in a most striking manner an illustration of the power of pence.
{Ibid.) The power of humble fidelity : — There were many gifts, many of them of
vanity, many of them of pride, many of them of superstition, many of them of mere
custom and necessity ; but hers was a voluntary gift of love. And that fact conse-
crated it. Love imparts a value to a gift which nothing but love can stamp upon
it. I. This is a striking illustbation of oub Lord's sympathy tob thb hbabt o»
HUMAN LIFE, INSTEAD OF FOB ITS BXTBBiOB. Hc was sitting in the vcry culmination
of the pride and beauty of the Jewish ceremonial. He was not attracted by sump-
tuous trains of these gorgeous gift-bringers. He saw that which interpreted the
innermost and the best nature, the gentle, generous, and piteous. When human
strength disdains to notice, there is the very point at which Divine strength notices
most. Where men see least to be admired, under uncouth forms of helplessness,
there Christ looks with sympathy and compassion. This imparts to the Divine
government an aspect of comfort and encouragement. If human life takes care of
the successful, the Divine government takes care of the weak and obscure. The
great Eye is not looking out for the great deeds alone, but for those whose deeds are
in secret. II. Many of the secbbt fidelities of lotb have poweb to outlive, in
USEFULNESS, THB PRODUCTS OF AMBITIOUS DESIBES AND DEEDS. All the rich glftS of
the temple are now forgotten. We do not know what Eabbi was syllabled with
admiration among his fellows on that day. The only person who has come down
to us was the least conspicuous. The gentle light of that example shines still. AU
the ages have not buried her. How little she thought she was enriching the world.
Christ is still the same. We think those gifts most influential which have most of
record ; but it is not so. While many a proud philanthropist will scarcely be seen,
many strange philanthropists will emerge from among the poor, and take their
places as princes in God's glory. So God works Himself, in secret might. So gives He
a pattern for us to work after. It is not the thunder which makes the most racket,
that does the most work. The things in this world that are accomplishing great
deeds are silent things, and hidden things. And we are told, in a kind of strange
paradox, that the things which are not, are ordained to bring to nought the things
that are. The most inconspicuous things often belong to God's most potential
working. The root neither strives nor cries, and yet, all the engines of all the
ships and shops on earth, that puff and creak with ponderous working, are not
to be compared for actual power with the roots of one single acre of ground in
the meadow. All the vast pumps of Harlem Lake, and all that serve our needs,
adjoining, are not to be compared for force with that might which inheres in one
single tree. It is a fact revealed only to those who study natural history, that
leaves, that vegetation, that dews, and rains, and heat, that the natural attractions
which prevail in the world, without any echo or outward report, have an enormoas
power in them, and that they are the means by which God works. He works in
silence, and inconspicuously, and almost hiddenly. And so they work importantly
wno work by thought, by love, by zeal, by faith nnrevealed ; who work in places not
seen by the public eye, in season and out of season, from the mere desire to do
good, and not from the mere love of being found out in doing it. Look upon your
scarfs, so brilUant. The colour shines afar off. Comely it is on the shoulder of
beauty. How exquisite is the dye that comes from the cochineal insect. And yet
how small is that insect — scarcely, I may say, so big as the point of a pin — ^which
feeds so inconspicuously on the under side of the leaf of the cactus, nourishing his
growth quite unconscious that as one of aU the myriads of all these little shining
points he will by and by help to produce those glowing colours which civilization
and rfyfinement will make so meet and comely in distant lands 1 So it is with good
deeds. The great things in this world are the sum of infinitesimal little things.
And those who are in sympathy with God and nature, are not to reject in men the
ripening, the development of tiiemselves or their true spiritual life, because the
effect is but little. That effect will be joined to other things which are like itself
obscure, and others and others will make their contributions ; and little by little the
sum of these specks of gold will make masses of gold ; little by little these small
insects will make great quantities of colouring matter; little by little small thingf
n.] 8T. MARK. 619
will become laiige in magnitnde. Do not be ashamed, then, to live in hnmility, if
you fill it up with fidelity. Never measure the things that you do, or do not, by
the report which they can make. III. Thsbe abb two spheres in which uen mttst
woBK. The first is that which judges of causes by their apparent relations to the
end sought. That is important ; but it is not the only sphere. It is the visible,
material sphere— the one which belongs to the region of physical cause and effect.
We are obliged to work in that sphere according to its own laws. But in the moral
sphere men must judge of acts by their relations to the motives and dispositions
which inspire them ; and they are great or little, not according to what they do,
but according to the sources from which their actions spring. In engineering that
only is great which does. It matters not what the intention is ; he who in the day
of battle is not victorious, is not saved by his intention. No matter how wisely you
mean, ii your timber is not squared and fitted right, the result is not right. In the
outward sphere effect measures the worth of the plan. In that sphere effect must
always be measured by tlie cause ; and the worth of the cause must be proved by the
effect. And that is the lower sphere. In the moral sphere it is the other way.
There, no matter what the effect is, you do not measure in that direction. Pray.
Your prayer accomplishes nothing? The measure is not "What did it do?"
Speak. Your words fall apparently uncaught and unprofitable? You do not
measure in that direction. Yon measure the other way. What was it in your
heart to do ? What was your purpose ? In the moral sphere we look at the bow —
not at the target. From what motive did the soul project its purpose ? What gave
that sigh? What issued that speech? What created that silence? What pro-
duced &at moral condition ? In that sphere the heart measures, estimates, regis-
ters. This gives rise to thoughts which, perhaps, may have »lation to ourselves.
There are many who will work if you will show them that thdr working will insure
immediate good results. They will work in the moral sphere if they oan work
according to the genius of the visible or the physical sphere. They will work if
they can do what others do. They do not work because they love to work. They
do not work because they feel that it is their duty to work, simply, without regard
to consequences. They are willing to work under the stimulus of a vain ambition.
They will work if they may be praised. They will work if they are to receive an
equivalent for their working in some appreciable form. The equivalent, often-
times, for exertion, is praise or popularity. Do, then, whatever there is to be done
without questioning and without calculation. Make progress in things moral. If
need be, utter stammering words. Would you console the troubled if you only had
a ready tongue ? Take the tongue that you have. Bing the bell that hangs in your
ateeple, if you can do no better. Do as well as you can. That is all that God
requires of you. Would you pray with the needy and tempted if you had eminent
gifts of prayer ? Use the gifts that you have. Do not measure yourself according
to the pattern of somebody else. Do not say to yourself, *' If I had his skill," or,
" If I had his experience." Take your own skill and your own experience, and
make the most of them. Do yon stand over against trouble and suffering, and
marvel that men whom God hath blessed with such means do so little ? Do you
Bay to yourself, ♦♦ If I had money, I know what I would do with it "? No, you do
not. God does ; and so He does not trust you with it. " If I had something dif-
ferent from what I have, I would work," says many a man. No ; if you would work
in other circumstances, you would work just where you are. A man that will not
work just where he is, with just what he has, and for the love of God, and for the
knre of man, will not work anywhere, in such a way as to make his work valuable.
It will be adulterated work. What if you have not money ? If you have a heart to
work, it is better than if you had great riches. And if you find that you are hesi-
tant, reluctant, and are acting accordingly, be sure that you do not belong to the
widow's school. Did she say to herself, as she handled her fractions of a penny,
" What is the use of my throwing these in ? They will scarcely be taken out. They
are all that I have, with which to buy my day's food. There it will do very little
good ; here it will do a great deal of good " ? {H. W. Beecher.) Conucrated
womanhood: — What is it to be a consecrated woman? I. Such consecration
involves heart-dedication to Christ and His service. II. Such eonsecration
embraces the sacred devotion of time to the work God carries on through
female agents. She saves her odd minutes as the jeweller saves the cuttings
of gems and gold. m. Such a consecration implies the devotion of culture
to ^e Divine glory and uplifting of humanity. IV. Such consecration em-
if>odies the ability to do varied work of a beneficent nature, whereby God is glorified.
590 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap, xa
V. Such consecration involves the Banctification of the pence to the Divine glory,
(S. V. Leech^ D.D.) The Lord's searching eye : — The Saviour noticed not merely
the fact or acts of contribution, but also the wonderfully diversified modes in
which the acts exhibited themselves. Mode is inseparable from act, and, when
outward, reveals the inward essence of the act. We may suppose that our Saviour
looked in, through the diversified modes that struck His outward eye, to the diver-
sified characters of the contributors, as they passed in succession before Him. II
BO, it would be with far more interest and innerliness than was ever manifestated
by Lavater, and with an intuition that was unerring. " On Sundays, after the
sermon," says the poet Goethe, "it was Lavater's duty, as an ecclesiastic, to
hold the short-handled, velvet alms-bag before each one who went out, and to
bleps as he received the pious gift. Now, on a certain Sunday he proposed to him-
self, without looking at the several persons as they dropped in their offerings, to observe
only their hands, and by them silently to judge of the forms of their donors.
Not only the shape of the finger, but its peculiar action in dropping the gift,
was attentively noted by him, and he had much to communicate to me on the
conclusions he had formed." As the idiosyncrasy and form of the whole body
was revealed to Lavater's eye by the form and action of the fingers, bo the
idiosyncrasy and moral condition of every soul were unveiled to our Saviour's
gaze, as He noticed "how" the offerings were cast in. {J. Morison, D.D.)
Liberality of the poor: — Peggy bad been consigned by her dying motber in
Ireland to the care of a lady, who brought her up as a servant, giving her
only clothes and food as her wages. Her residence with this lady led to
Peggy's attendance on the ministry of the gospel, which met, in her case, with a
heart prepared by Divine grace to receive it. She imbibed it as the thirsty earth
the shower; her appearance became altered, and her whole demeanour greatly
improved. Her mistress, finding her services increasingly valuable, and fearing that
the temptation of higher wages might cause her to seek another place, offered, of her
own account, to give her a small sum of money annually. For this she was truly
thankful; and some months having elapsed, she came to me (says a Christian
minister in London) one evening after service, apparently with great joy, and slipped
a piece of paper into my hand. On examination I found it to be a one-pound note.
♦•Peggy," said I, "what is this?" "Your reverence," said she, "it is the first
pound I could ever call my own since I was born ; and what will I do with it ? Ah I
will I forget my country ? No ; it is for poor Ireland ; it is for my countrymen to
have the blessed gospel preached to them." I admired her disinterestedness,
but thought the sacrifice too great, as I knew she must want such a sum
for very important purposes. " Peggy," I said, " it is too much for you to
give ; I cannot take it." •* Oh, your reverence," she replied, with her character-
istic energy, " if you refuse it, I shall not be able to sleep for a fortnight 1 " And
she went away, leaving the money in my hand, and exclaiming, •* God bless my
poor country with the ministry of the gospel." Costly gifts : — A missionary, in a
report of his field of labour says : " I can imagine some one saying, as he reads
this report, ♦ Well, I will give £5 to the cause ; I can give that, and not feel it.'
But suppose, my Christian brother, you were to give £20, and feel it ? " There is
vast meaning in the advice, **Give till you feel it." It is by this principle that
churches are founded, and gospel institutions sustained. If this rule were
to be put in operation everywhere, there would hardly be a feeble church
in our land, or a church in debt, or a sanctuary out of repair, or a minister half-
Bustained, or a true cause of charity without adequate support. (Anon.) Reli-
gion the first thought : — A poor negro woman, after the death of her husband, had
no means of support for herself and two little children, except the labour of her
own hands, yet she found means, out of her deep poverty, to give something for
the promotion of the cause of her Redeemer ; and would never fail to pay, on the
very day it became due, her regular subscription to the church of which she was a
member. In a hard winter she found it very difficult to supply the pressing needs
of her little family, yet the few pence for rehgious purposes had been regularly put
by. As one season for the contribution came round, she had only a little com, a
single Bait herring, and a five-cent piece remaining of her httle store. Yet she did not
waver. She ground the com, prepared her children's supper, and then with a
light heart and cheerful countenance set out to service, where she gave joyfully the
five cents, the last she had in the world. Betuming from the church she passed
the house of a lady, to whom a long time before she had sold a piece of pork — so
long, indeed, that she had quite forgotten all the particulars of the transaction ; but
31.J ST, MARK, 631
seeing her this evening, the lady called her in, apologizing for having been bo tardj^
in the settlement, and then inquired how much it was, The poor woman conld
only reply she did not know ; bat the lady, determined to be on the safe side, gave
her two dollars, besides directing her housekeeper to pnt up a basket of flour,
sugar, coffee, and other good things for her use. She returned home with a joyful
heart, saying, as she displayed her treasures, ♦• See, my children, the Lord is a good
paymaster, giving us a hundredfold even in this present life, and in the world to
come life everlasting." The gift of love : — Once upon a time there was a
king, and he was very powerful and great. He was also very good, and so kind
to his people that they idl loved him very much. To show their gratitude to him
for all his kindness and the many favours he was constantly bestowing upon them,
and also to show the very great love which they had in their hearts for him, the
people resolved to make him a present. Now there was a poor woman who loved
the king very, very much, and she wished to contribute something to the present for
her dear sovereign ; but she was so very poor that she had nothing at all in the world
to give but only one little brown farthing. And a rich neighbour came to her, and said,
*♦ You can never put that dirty brown farthing among the bright gold pieces offered to
the great king. Here are some new silver shillings, they will not look so bad ; you can
put them in, and it is all the same, for I was going to give them at any rate." But
this poor woman replied, " Oh no ; when I bring a gift to the good king, it must be
my very own. I am very sorry I have nothing better to give ; but I will just slip
it in quietly, so that the Mng won't take any notice of it ; and if he throws it away
afterwards, I don't mind. It is all I have, and I will have the pleasure of giving it
to him whom I love so very, very much." So this poor woman went forward with
the rest; but she walked very slowly, and hung down head, being sorry her gift was so
small ; and when she passed the king she never once looked up, but just slipped
her little brown farthing into the plate among the rest of the gifts. When she was
tumicg away she felt some one give her a tap on the shoulder, and when she looked
round the king was looking down at her, and smiling very graciously. ** My good
woman," he said, " was it you who put in this costly gift? *' And as she looked in
fais hand she saw something very like her old brown farthing ; but just as she was
wondering if that could be what the king meant, the farthing began to grow
brighter and brighter, till the poor woman could scarcely look at it, for it had
changed into a beautiful locket, all shining with gold and diamonds and other pre-
cious stones. The poor woman gave a httle sigh of disappointment in her heart,
but she looked up straight into the king's face, and said, ** Oh no, I only gave one
little brown farthing." ** Take it into your hand and see," said the king, still
fimiling. So she took it as he bade her, and then she saw that it was her farthing
after all. '*Te8," she said, feeling greatly surprised, ** that is the very farthing I
put in, for I tried hard to clean it up, and could only get it to look a Uttle bright at
the edge." So she laid it back again in the king's hand, and as soon as he touched
it, there it was shining and sparkling as before. Then the king said, " I thank you
very much for this beautiful gift; it is very precious to me." And he took it, and
hung it upon the chain that was round his neck, and the poor woman went home
quite happy, because the king had been pleased to accept her gift, and loving him a
thousand times more than before, il that were possible. Now it is more than
eighteen hundred years since that day, and the great and good king has been wear.
ing that poor woman's brown farthing at his chain all the time. And whenever
any poor woman wishes to offer him a gift from the great love that is in her heart,
and is afraid to bring it because it seems so small, he points to the shining locket,
and says, ** Why, this was once only a little brown farthing, and it pleased me as much
as the rich man's gold ; for with me ' a man is accepted according to what he hath,
and not according to what he hath not ? ' " (C P. Craig.) Covetou»nes$ cor-
nered : — A gentleman called upon a rich friend for a contribution to some charitable
object. *• Yes, I most give you my mite," said the rich man. *• Do you mean the
widow's mite?" asked his friend. "Certainly," was the reply. "I shall be
satisfied with half as much as she gave. How much are you wor^ ? " ** Seventy
thousand dollars." " Oive me, then, your cheque for thirty-five thousand ; that
will be half as much as the widow gave, for she, you know, gave * all that she had,
cren all her living. ' " The rich man was cornered. Covetous people often try to
■belter themselves behind the widow's mite ; but it is a dangerous refuge. Alnu-
f tvt'ny, false and true : — Almsgiving is degraded in two ways — when it is done to be
Men of men, and when it is done to save your soul. You caxmot tender to God
la. 6d. or £1 for a sin committed. You cannot wipe oat goilt with hali-a-crown.
523 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. zm.
The Jews thought you could. The Roman Catholic Church, in its worst days at
least, openly taught that you could. The priests invited the dying to insaitt
against hell or purgatory by leaving their property to the church or the poor. The
fallacy is not yet quite extinct. The other day a witty ecclesiastic was listening to
a rich merchant who, after dinner, boasted that, although no better than he should
be, he gave £2,000 away to the poor every year. He did not know, nor apparently
care, who got it, but it went. •• Well," said his clerical listener, •• that is the
largest insurance against fire I ever heard of ! " Now, mark this, if in almsgiving
the donor is thinking more of himself than of the recipient of his gift, his act is
not Christian charity, but selfishness. If he gives, in order to be praised, or to save
liis soul, or movely to relieve his own feelings, without regard to the effect of his
gift, that is not Christian charity. The impulse is good, but not alone. It does
more harm than good, without reflection, common-sense, and even wisdom. Every
penny given to a knave robs a deserving person. There are plenty such : find them
out, and when you find them, do not pauperize them. Help them to help them-
selves. Every Christmas we are deluged with circulars; choose the right institu-
tions and pleas to support ; avoid the professional beggars of this world, in print or
out of print, who prey on the credulous and impulsive, and can give no satisfactory
account of their stewardship. I am not against extras at Christmas. If we
brighten our homes for our friends, God forbid that we should forget the poor ;
but again I say, be careful. Let us comfort the sick, seek out the deserving poor,
think of poor dependents, old servants, the people in our own neighbourhood ; let
us do all we can to lighten the burden of unobtrusive sufferers, helping the thrifty
poor, the sick, the aged; but let us avoid bolstering up the blatant impostor I
(H. R. Haweis, M.A.) All her living. — Mr. Skelton'$ devotion to the poor : — The
salary of the Rev. Philip Skelton, an Irish clergyman, arising from the discharge
of his ministerial duties and from tuition, was very small ; yet he gave the larger
part of it away, scarcely allowing himself to appear in decent clothing. Returning
one Lord's day from public worship, he came to a cabin where an awful fire
had occurred. Two children had been burnt to death, and a third showed but faint
signs of life. Seeing the poor people had no linen with which to dress the child's
sores, he tore his shirt from his back piece by piece for their use, and cheerfully
submitted to the inconvenience to which it exposed him. Some time after this,
when a scarcity of food was felt around him, he sold his library, though his books
were the only companions of his solitude, and spent the money in the purchase ol
provisions for the poor. Some ladies hearing of this, sent him £50 to replace some
of his most valuable books with ; but, while gratefully acknowledging their kind-
ness, he said he had dedicated the books to God, and tiien Applied the £50 Also to
the relief of the poor.
CHAPTER XUL
Yebs. 1, t. Ilaster, bm wtiat manner of stones and wtuX bnlldlngi are hem—
Men admiring doomed things: — "What manner of stones, and what buildings are
here 1 " An outburst of admiration this. The stones were indeed beautiful. That
sacred building was constructed of prodigious blocks of white marble, some of
which seem to have been upwards of thirty feet long, eighteen broad, and sixteen
thick. They did not view the temple in the light in which Christ viewed it. It is
worthy of note that Christ, in His discourse, speaks in a very different spirit of
doomed things to what He does of doomed people. Mind was infinitely more
interesting to Him than masonry. When He refers to the temple He says, " As
for these things " with an air of comparative indifference ; but when He refers to
doomed people He weeps, and says, " 0 Jerusalem," &o. The language of Christ
and His disciples here will apply — I. To beculab interests, which abm doomxo
THiNos. Markets, governments, navies, and armies are doomed. IL To abtistio
PRODUCTIONS, which ABK DOOMED THINOS. III. To SOCIAL DI8TIN0TIONS, WHICH ABI
DOOMED THINGS. lY. To BEIilOIOUS SYSTEMS, WHICH ABB DOOMSD THINOS. V. To
THE woBiiD iTSELV, WHICH IS A DOOMED THiNo. Why sct yoor hcarts on doomed
things ? (D. Thonuu, D.D.) The destruction of Jerusalem .-—It is interesting to
mark the site and trace the history of edifices built for Ck)d, some of which have
been signaUy honoured by Him. The temple at Jerusalem was one of these. It
flood eontemporary with great events, and was the scene, for iom hundred years.
OBAP. xm.] 8T. MARK, 198
of the perpetual sacrifices, those augnst national solemnities, the divinely
appointed services that distingnished the worship of the God of Israel. ^ Bat that
which piety erects, sin often lays in ruins. This temple accomplished its service
and shared in the national fall, when the people by whom it had been profaned
were carried to their seventy years' captivity. The second temple was designated to
etill higher distinction, inasmuch as it was that which Messiah's feet trod, and
within whose walls He joined as a worshipper. What have been the bearings of
the destruction of Jerusalem, upon Christianity on the one hand, and Judaism on
the other f L This event fubnished a most stbikino pboof of the tbuth of odb
Lobd's pbedictions, and consequently of His Divinb mission and authobity.
II. The destruction of Jerusalem served a most important purpose in reference to
Christianity, by liberamsino the minds op the beuevbbs, and pabticularly by
emancipating the Jewish convebts fbom thb authority of the Mosaic bitual.
III. The destruction of Jerusalem, by weaning the believing Hebrews from their
national attachments, and scattebinq them abboad in thb babth, contributed
ESSENTIAIiLY TO THB DIFFUSION OF THB KNOWLBDOB AND INFLUENCE OF THE GOSPEL.
But what are its bearings upon Judaism ? 1. Whether the destruction of Jerusalem
and the dispersion of the Jews is not to be regarded as an act of righteous judg-
ment upon the nation, incurred by the dreadful crime of rejecting the promised
Messiah f 2. I ask whether the destruction of Jerusalem and of the temple was
not a clear intimation of the final abolition of the Mosaic economy ? Here only
could the sacrifices be offered, so that when it was destroyed, the institution itself
was abolished. {H. Gray, D.D.) The dueipUne of d««fruction;--"For as a
physician, by breaking the cup, prevents his patient from indulging his appetite in
a hurtful draught, so God withheld them from their sacrifices by destroying the
city itself, and making the place inaccessible to all of them." {Warburton's
Julian.) The ruins of the earthly Jerusalem .-—In the very ruins of the earthly
Jerusalem you will find a salutary memorial, not onlv of the transitory character
of all this world's glory, but of the exchange of the shadow for the substance ; of
the introduction of that kingdom which is not of this world, and of that temple,
built upon everlasting foundations, in which all believers are living stones,
fashioned after the model of "the chief comer stone," even Jesus Chriit.
{H. Gray.) The religious use of arehasology ;— What is the true religious aspect of
archsBolo^ ? We must all profit by that warning voice which did for a moment
check the enthusiasm of the antiquarian disciple. The admiration for stones and
buildings, however innocent and nsefol, is yet not religion. The regard for
antiquity and the love of the past, if pushed to excess, have often been the ruin of
religion. Christianity is not antiquarianism, and antiquarianism is not Christianity.
There must be times and places when antiquity must give way to truth, and the
beauty of form to the beauty of holiness, and the charm of poetic and historic
recollections to the stem necessities of fact and duty. It is well to remember that
there is something more enduring than the stones of the temple. If archaBology
is not everything, it is at least something. I. It awakbns that lovb of thb past
WHICH IB BO NECESSARY A COUNTEBPOISB TO THB BXCITEMBNT OF THB PBESENT AND THE
FUTUBB. " I have considered," says the Psalmist, " the days of old, the years of
the ancient time." They were to him as a cool shade, a cahn haven. The study
of them carries as back from the days of the man to the days of the child ; it
opens to us a fresh world ; it makes us feel that we do not stand alone in our
generation on the earth, but that under God, we are what we are because of the
deeds and thoughts of those who have lived before ns, and to whom we thus owe a
debt which we have constantly to repay to our posterity. How this insight into
the past has been increased in our own age. Not only Greeks and Bomans, but
Egyptians and Assyrians, are familiar to as in this century, n. Thb impobtancb of
THESE studies IN DEVELOPING THOSE BABEBT OF God's GIFTS TO MAN, A LOVE OF lEUTH,
AND A LOVB OF JUSTICE — the will and the power to see things as they reaUy are, and
in their just proportions to one another. HI. The more thoroughly we can under-
stand these ancient forms, the more eagerly we can restore and beautify ancient
buildings, so much the betteb is the fbambwobk pbepabbd fob the bsception of
NEW THOUGHTS AND NEW IDEAS. It has been sometimes said that the great periods
of building and of admiration for the past have been the precursors of the fall of
the religion of the nations which they represented. It has been said, for example,
that the burst of splendid archite ture under the Herods, immediately preceded the
fall of Judaism ; that the like display under the Antonii preceded the fall of Paganism;
that the like display at the beginning of the sixteenth century preceded the fall of
524 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [oh4». xm.
the Ghnrch of the middle ages. There is no doabt a truth in this. There is a
tendency in an expiring system to develop itself in outward form, when its inward
spirit has died away. But this is not at all the whole truth, and the higher truth
is something quite different, namely, that these magnificent displays of art, these
profound investigations into the past, in those eras of which I have spoken, were
part of the same throes, of the same mind and spirit, which accompanied the birth
of tiie new and higher religion, which in each case succeeded. Those Augustan
buildings suggested to the apostles' hearts the imagery by which they expressed the
most sublime of spiritual truths. " The chief corner-stone ; " the stones joined
and compacted together ; the pillars which were never to be moved ; the whole idea
of what the apostles called •* edification," — that most expressive word when we under-
stand it rightly — the architecture, so to speak, of the Christian soul — all these
images were drawn from the superb edifices which everywhere rose before the
apostles* eyes. And so in the last great efflorescence of medisBval architecture,
religion, instead of dying out with that effort, took a third start throughout Europe.
Oh I may God grant that the glorv of the third temple, the glory of the living
temple, may as much exceed the glory of the second, as the glory of the second
exceeded the glory of the first 1 Cast not away the old, but see what it means, see
what it embraces, see what it indicates, *• See what manner of stones and what
buildings are here," and then, as in the case of sacred and of ancient words, so
also in the case of sacred and ancient edifices, they will become as Luther said of
words, not dead stones but living creatures with hands and feet; living stones
which will cry out with a thousand voices ; stones which will be full of " sermons;"
dry boires which when we prophesy over them, will stand on their feet an exceeding
great army ; ancient, everlasting gates, which shall turn upon their rusty hinges
and lift up their hoary doors that the Lord of Hosts may come in ; a heavenly city
within the earthly city, a city which hath foundations deeper than any earthly
foundations, a city whose builder and maker is God I {Dean Stanley.) Ruin ever
near: — Jesus and the disciples of Jesus differ in just this way about the strength
and durability of a great many things in this world. The disciples point to the
wealth of the millionaire, to the reputation of a man of world-wide fame, to the
influence of a popular leader, to the power of a national government, to the
strength of some system of wrong ; and they say, ** Behold what manner of stones
and what manner of buildings I " Jesus says, *' There shall not be left here one
stone upon another." And the word of Jesus never fails. Wealth is no sure
support even for the life that now is. The splendid fabric of a fortune, which a
man has toiled a life through to give as an inheritance to his family, crumbles in a
night, and the millionaire's children are beggars, or worse. The man whom all the
world honoured has become a by>word of tiie scoffer and jester. He who swayed
multitudes at bis will, and who defied the voice of an outraged public sentiment, is
a wi-etched outcast denied help or pity from the very creatures of his influence. A
system of iniquity edged in by law, and venerable for ages, is overthrown and
Nwept away as by the breath of Omnipotence. No nation on earth, to-day, is
beyond the possibility of ruin to-morrow. A few pounds of dynamite may scatter
the last vestiges of the strongest dynasty. The traditions of the ages, the
superstitions of entire races, ignorance, vice, evil in high places, Satan himself,
and all his hosts combined, cannot keep one stone on another, when the word of
God is spoken for the fabric's fall. If we only really believed this truth, which is
as true as any other truth of God, and which has been verified anew before our
own eyes again and again in the present generation, how much more restful we
should be, and how much more courage we should have. {Sunday School Times.)
GotVs grtat judgment on Israel: — ^Privilege and responsibility go hand in hand, and
the higher the opportunity, tiae greater the penalty for neglecting to improve it. The
occasion of the uttering of this prediction is suggestive. The Saviour had marvelled
at the widow's mite ; the dibciples marvel at the temple's magnificence. Forty and
six years had the temple been in building, and had not long been completed.
Occupying a site which seemed impregnable, its massive structure seemed to defy
the destructive arts of war, while the exquisite beauty of its golden roof, of its
courts, of its cloisters, of its pillars, of its gates, made it one of the wonders of
the world. As to-day, a visitor to the cathedral of St. Isaao's, at St Petersburg,
would mark ontside the great pillars, made of single stones of granite, and within
the marvellous pillars of Malachite and Lapis Lazuli, so the twelve point to stones
of vast dimensions and beautiful in their vuins and workmanship, and ask Hii
tdmiration at once for these individual stones, and for the whole temple, which.
. xiu.] ST. MARK. 525
like a jewel, crowned that hill of Zion, which the Psalmist had thonght so
oeantifid for situation. It was a time of peace, for the horrors of war were being
forgotten as a troubled dream. The absorption of Judsea in the Boman Empire
seemed to promise a degree of security, which would be not an altogether un-
satisfactory compensation for the loss of dignity of freedom. Just as our rule in
India prevents wars amongst the various nations peopling that continent, so ** The
Boman peace," as it has been termed, prevailed between and blessed the various
peoples blended together in the great Boman Empire. The scene was made more
impressive by the multitudes from every land who had gathered to the feast,
wearing various costumes, speaking various languages. The candid observer
would regret the absence of many of the signs of devotion he had hoped to find ;
but would at the same time indulge the feeling that there must be some vitality in
the religion which felt such a mighty attraction to the House of God. A nation
BO united in what was deepest and hoUest could not, he would think, fail to have
some future still awaiting it. And whether the cloudless sun gilded the scene of
cheerful activity, or the silver light of the passover full-moon rested like a
benediction on the whole, hope rather than solicitude would fill his heart ; and the
holiest spot on earth would seem destined to wear an eternal bloom of glory.
Unexpected by His hearers, Christ's words thrill them with horror. We stiU feel
Christ's sayings hard. We still find, on earnest study, that some hard sayings are
yet helpful. 1. Taste is not everything in religion. The temple of Jerusalem was
perhaps the most beautiful religious buUding ever raised by men ; yet it was built
by Herod the Great, a man as wicked in his life as he was exquisite in bis taste.
And all this beauty is so valueless in God's sight that, costly and marvellous as it
was, it had no endurance, but like the grass of the housetop, which withereth afore
it groweth up, the world had hardly time to marvel at its aspect before they
lamented its end. The true beauty of a church is that of hearts: the kindly
thought, the gracious prayer, the consecrated life. 2. There is only one thing that
can give endurance — righteousness. Where it is absent, nothing can secure man,
city, or institution from a grave fate. So the Saviour begins His teaching on the
judgment of Jerusalem. Was it any wonder that, sickened with the thought of
such calamity, Christ could not enjoy the outward beauty of the temple as others
did? (iJ. Glover). ChrisVs double propJiecy : — The difficulty in explaining
this discourse of oar Lord lies in the appropriateness of its terms to two distinct
and distant events, — the end of the world and the destruction of Jerusalem. But
whether we assume, with some interpreters, that the one catastrophe was meant to
typify the other ; or, with another class, that the discourse may be mechanically
divided by assuming a transition, at a certain point, from one of these great
subjects to the other ; or, with a third, that it describes a sequence of events to be
repeated more than once, a prediction to be verified, not once for all, nor yet by a
continuous progressive series of events, but in stages and at intervals, like repeated
flashes of lightning, or the periodical germination of Uie fig tree, or the re-
assembling of the birds of prey whenever and wherever a new carcase tempts
them ; upon any of these various suppositions it is still true that the primary
fulfilment of the prophecy was in the downfall of tiie Jewish state, with the
previous or accompanying change of dispensations ; and yet that it was so framed
as to leave it doubtful until the event, whether a still more terrible catastrophe was
not intended. However clear the contrary may now seem to us, there was nothing
absurd in the opinion which so many entertained that the end of the world and of
the old economy might be coincident. This ambiguity is not accidental, but designed,
as in many otiaer prophecies of Scripture. {J. A. Alexander^ D.D.) Beauty
of Jerusalem ;— When I stood that morning on the brow of Olivet, and looked
down on the city crowning those battlemented heights, encircled by those deep and
dark ravines, I involuntarily exclaimed, " Beautiful for situation, the joy of the
whole earth is Mount Zion." And as I gazed, the red rays of the rising sun shed a
halo round the top of the castle of David ; then they tipped with gold each
tapering minaret, and gilded each dome of mosque and church, and at length
bathed in one flood of ruddy light the terraced roofs of the city, and the grass and
foliage, the cupolas, pavements, and colossal walls of the Haram. No human
being could be disappointed who first saw Jerusalem from Olivet. {Dr, Porter.)
Trouble just ahead: — The chapter now coming under our perusal for two Sundays
in Buocession, is not easy of interpretation in a good manv of its particulars,
because the suggeetions of doctrine glide so imperceptibly and fitfully between the
predictions of Jerusalem's downfall and the prophecies of the world's end that we
MS THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap, xhl
cannot always fix their exact application. ^ It appears as if it might be as well on
the present occasion to occupy ourselves with what is plain and practical, and not
lose our time in speculation upon what is not certainly revealed. I. We learn, in
the beginning, that Jerusalem was openly announced as doomed to fall, bkfobb
IT fell. Some specific incidents were related beforehand which would test the
prophetic power of Jesus Christ there at once, and put within reach of His
disciples a confutation or a confirmation of His claims. It hardly needs to be
stated, for the whole matter is so famiUar, that the predictions of this city's over-
throw showed that our Lord spoke with a perfect knowledge of the events He
mentioned as coming on the earth. The site of that old town is a well-known
fact ; no one thinks of disputing the locality. The historic books of the Jews tell
how Jerusalem was overthrown by the Romans. Any one can ask and answer
whether the stones are large, whether they are in position or not. The city Hea
" on heaps." Mount Zion is " ploughed." The temple is gone. Those vast walls
are scattered. Some few stones of prodigious size yet remain in what were the
foundations of the edifices, and in the cavernous substructions underground. No
one can pass out of the modem Jaffa gate, and push on around along the decUvity
of Zion till he enters again the gate of Stephen, without unconsciously saying to
himself, •* See what manner of stones 1 " II. We learn, next, as we continue to
read the verses (vers. 3, 4), that it is lawful to inquire fob the time of fulfil-
ment OF scriptural pbopheoy. It is not right to attempt to set it, but if it can be
ascertained, so much the better for our understanding, and in that direction our
duty lies. Christ makes no rebuke for what some consider their curiosity. On the
contrary, He tells them most important facts concerning the great times coming.
UL We learn also, just here, that there will be one special token of the
world's end which will not fail : " the gospel must first be published among aD
nations" (ver. 10). Very carefully chosen is this phraseology. We are not told that
all the nations are to be converted by the gospel before the true Christ shall come
again, but that they are all to hear it. It would seem as if it could not be a
difficult thing to decide so evident a fact as this assumes, whenever it should occur.
Most of us would, no doubt, be surprised to learn how many of the nations on the
face of the earth have, really, already heard the tidings of salvation ; and it is not
impossible that the joyous moment is very nigh. It is time, certainly, to be
thoughtful. It is witiun the memory of almost all of as that ihe fixed, and with
some good old men the stereotyped, prayer for monthly concert, for many a year,
was that God would open China to the gospel, and break down the barriers in
Japan. Now there is in all the world nothing in the way except the hardness of
men's hearts. Growth has been made in evangelizing eiSort that startles as when
we think of it. Lately, the sudden conversion of nations in a day, as once seemed
to be the case in Madagascar, has come to appear less and less strange. Spiritual
uprisings of whole peoples at a time have been recorded in our generation,
rv. We learn, also, that when ttie end of the world draws nigh, it will bb
hebaldeo akd accompanied with most dibk convulsions and troubles (vers. 19, 20).
YI. So we are ready for our final lesson from the passage : Men need to pbbpabb
FOB such a DAT AS THIS BEFORE IT SHALL PROVE TO BE TOO LATE. It is CBSy fOT US tO
see now the relevancy of what has been given us as the golden text (Prov. xxii. 3),
*' A prudent man foreseeth the evil, and hideth himself." There is but one refuge
for any human soul : Christ is our ** hiding-place ;" He will " preserve us from
trouble " (Psa. xxxii. 7). If we believe in Him, we are safe. It is revealed in the
Scriptures that the coming of oiu: Lord to judge the world will find men in a con-
dition of apathy and Hstlessness. They will be eating and drinking, marrying and
giving in marriage, as they were in Noah's time (Matt. xxiv. 37-39). They will be
buying and selling, planting and building, as they were in Lot's time (Lake xvii.
23-30). Better for as who are studying to know God's will this ImpressiTe hoar to
call on the Lord at once, and be secure. (C. S, Robituon, D.D.)
Yer. 4. Tell ns, when ahaU these things be J— Date fixing .-—That's it I Fix the
date of the ooming failure, or the coming triumph. All of as are ready to join io
that request. How we long to have the veil of the future lifted ; and how well it is
that the Lord does not gratify our longing in this. There is no greater blessing to as
than Qod'B oonoealment of our future. There could be no surer corse from God
than his opening before oar eyes the pathway of our lives, so that we could see it
to its mr end. What heart-breaking that would bring into a myriad homes I
What a eneoking too, on every side, of hope and aspiration and noble endeavour I
OHAT. xm.] ST. MARK. bVJ
How it would paralyze loving effort, and check or destroy needed tenderness oi
love and deed in kindly ministry 1 We know not what we ask, when we crave au
mf igbt into the future. God knows what He does, and why, when He refuses every
request of this kind from His loved and loving ones. {Sunday School Times )
Leading astray ;— It is quite as important not to be led astray by false religious
teachers as by any other class of deceivers or deceived ; and there is quite as much
danger in this Ime as in any other. Sincerity on our part is no guard against decep-
tion or wandering ; nor is sincerity a safeguard to a religious teacher. Those who
are themselves both honest and sincere would lead us astray if we followed them in
their wrong path. There is danger of our being led astray by the sermons we hear,
the papers or the books we read, the counsel or example of those whom we 1 ive sup-
posed to be godly, or by the impulses or convictions of our own minds and hearts.
There is such a thing as conscientious error- teaching and devil-serving. The warn-
ing of Jesus is, that ye take heed that no man lead you astray in doctrine or morals,
through holding up a false standard of conduct, or a false interpretation of God's
Word. {Ibid.)
Ver. 7. And when ye shaU hear of wars.— Trottftlota times .—I, Wis ibb hebe
roBBWABNBD TO EXPBOT TBOUBLE, '* Yc shall hear of wars and rumours of wars ** • and
it follows, " such things must needs be " ; look for no other. Is not our life a war-
fare T 1. This points immediately at those wars which brought on the final ruin
and overthrow of the Jewish church and nation. 2. It looks further, and is intended
as an intimation to us all, and to all Christians, to count upon trouble in this world.
When ye hear wars (so the word is), when ye hear war at home, the noise of it, for
war in a country makes a noise ; never more than since the invention of guns, the
most noisy way of fighting; yet of old they complained of the noise of war (Nahum
lii. 2 ; Exod. xxxii. 17, 18). When we hear the rumours of wars, the reports or tidings
of wars. We commonly call uncertain reports rumours, and in time of war we
often hear such, but the original word signifies intelligences, to at of which we hear.
Doctrine : That though it be very sad, jet it is not at all strange in this world, to
hear of wars and rumours of wars. There are three sorts of wars : 1. Law- wars
among neighbours and relations, bad enough, and very common, through too much
love of the world, and too little of our brother. There are few of the spirit of
Abram (Gen. xiii. 8). 2. Book-wars among scholars and Christians. Different
sentiments maintamed by each side with great heat, too often greater than the
occasion demands. 3. Sword- wars among nations and public interests : of these
tiie text speaks. Whence is it that so much mischief should be done in the world
by wars? considering (1) What principles there are in the nature of man. Is
there not such a thing as humanity? Man is not bom for war, but naked and
miaimed ; not fierce, as birds and beasts of prey. (2) What promises there are in
the Word of God. It seems hard to reconcile this text with Isa. ii. 4 and with
Isa. xi. 6, &c. The Jews object it, Christ Himself has said otherwise (Luke xii. 51,
and m the text). How shall we reconcile these two? I reply. Those promises are
m part fulfilled already. Christ was bom at a tune of general peace. The gospel
has prevailed much to the civilizing of the nations, and as far as it is received, it
disposes naen to peace. The primitive Christians were of a peaceable disposition.
They will have a more full accomplishment in the latter days. Though contrary
events come between, that word shall not fall to the ground. Yet the commonness
of war in every age takes off the strangeness of it. What do we hear of at this
day so much as of wars? Now this we are not to think strange. Because men
are so provoking to God, and He does thus in a way of righteous judgment punish
them for their sins (Isa. xxxiv. 5). War is one of God's sore judgments, with
which He corrects the people of His wrath (Ezek. xiv. 17, 21). Sometimes God thus
makes wicked men a scourge one to another, as Nebuchadnezzar was to the
nations. Sometimes a scourge to His own people (Isa. x. 6). Because men are so
provomg one to another, and they do thus give way to their own lusts (James iv.
1, 2). No war carried on but there is certainly a great deal of sin on both sides as
2 Chron. nvm. 9. But as to the cause of war. 1. Sometimes men's lusts on
both sides begin the war, and where there may be a right and colour of reason on
both sides, yet not such as on either to justify the taking up of arms, and while
there are such follies set in great dignity (Eccl. x. 6), no marvel if we hear much of
wars ; punctihos of honour, inconsiderable branches of right, to which lives and
countnes are sacnficed by jealous princes ; the mouth justly opened to denounce
war, but the ear unjustly deaf to the proposals of peace. 2. Where the war on the
5M THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap, xin,
one side is jnst and necessary, it is men's lusts on the other side that make it so.
And if we see it, we need not marvel at the matter. Here is the original of war
and bloodshed. (1) Men's pride and ambition sometimes make a war just and
necessary. (2) Men's covetousness and injustice sometimes make a war just and
necessary. (3) Men's treachery sometimes makes war. No marvel we hear of
wars, when all men are liars, and no confidence is to be put in them. (4) Oppres-
sion and persecution sometimes make war just. II. Wk abb hebb pobeabmed
AGAINST THE TROUBLE WE ABE BID TO EXPECT. When you are yourselves disturbed
with the alarms of war, be not troubled, i.<„ be not inordinately dejected and cast
down, be not terrified, whatever happens ; keep trouble from your heart (John xiv. 1)
if war come to your door. It is both for caution and comfort. You need not be
troubled, therefore give not way to it. Doctrine : That the faithful disciples of
Jesus Christ ought not to be inordinately troubled, when there are wars and
rumours of wars. 1. As for others, they have reason to be troubled. Those that
are not the disciples of Jesus Christ, and are not interested in His merit and grace,
iiave cause for trouble when God's judgments are abroad (see Isa. xxxiii. 14).
Terrors belong to them, and as for comforts, they have no part nor lot in the
matter (see Luke xxi. 25, 26). Those that have the most cause to be troubled
commonly put trouble furthest from them. 2. There is cause for the disciples of
Christ themselves, upon some accounts, and in some degree, to be troubled.
Christ would not have His followers to be without feeling. God calls to mourning
at such a time. This is a doctrine that needs explication and limitation. When
you hear of wars be ye troubled after a godly sort. There is a threefold trouble
commendable: (1) Sympathy with the sufferers. (2j Sorrow for sin. It is sin.
that makes all the mischief. Mourn for the sin that is the cause of the war, and
the sin that is the effect of it. (3) SoUcitude for the ark of God. For this our
iiearts should tremble, lest religion in its various interests suffer damage. The
desolations of the sanctuary should trouble us more than the desolations of the
earth : this is a holy fear, 3. Christians ought not to be inordinately troubled.
WTien ye hear this, be not troubled, i.e., (1) Be not disquieted, but make the best
of it. It is not our wisdom to aggravate to ourselves the causes of trouble, nor to
make them worse than they are. (2) Be not affrighted, but hope the best from it.
When we hear the rumours of war, we must not be of doubtful mind ; not as Ahaz
(Isa. vii. 2 ; viii. 11, 12). We must not give up all for lost upon every disaster and
disappointment. Courage is an excellent virtue in time of war, and needful at
iiome as well as abroad. (3) Be not amazed, but prepare for worse after it. There
seems to be this also mtended in the caution ; compare v. 8, " These are the beginnings
of sorrows." Weep not for this, but get ready for the next (Luke xxiii. 28, 29.)
Faint not in these lesser conflicts, for then what will you do when greater come
(see Jer. xii. 5). Several considerations will be of use to keep trouble from the heart
of good Christians, when we hear of wars, (a) The righteous God sits in the
throne judging right, therefore be not troubled. God is King of nations, and
presides in the affuirs of nations. Men talk of the fortune of war, but it is not a
blind fortune ; the issue is determined by a wise God. (6) The church is built upon
a rock, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it, therefore be not troubled,
(c) Christ is His people's peace, therefore be not troubled. The remnant of those
that fear God, find rest in Christ, even in troublous times (see Micah v. 6 ; John
xvi. 33). (d) The name of the Lord is a strong tower, therefore be not troubled.
Into this citadel the vanquished may retire and find shelter, and a refuge that they
cannot be beaten out of (Prov. xviii. 10). This is a stronghold, inaccessible, insuper-
able, and which cannot be taken. The power and providence of God are fortifica-
tions which cannot be scaled, nor battered, nor undermined. What need good people
fear? (Psa. xlvi. 1, 2) They have always a God to whom they may go. (e) Men are
God's hand, therefore be not troubled. God is doing their own work by them all
this while, and they are accomplishing His purpose, though they mean not so (Isa.
X. 6, 7, 15 ; Psa. xvii. 13, 14). (/) There will come a reckoning day, when all these
things shall be reviewed ; therefore be not troubled. Behold, the Judge standeth
before the door and the mighty men shall shortly stand at His bar (Isa. xxvi. 21 ;
Bev. vi. 10). (g) The wars of the nations perhaps may end in the peace of the
church. God can bring light out of darkness, and meat out of the eater, {h)
However, we are sure in heaven there are no wars nor rumours of wars, therefore be
not troubled. All will be well there. To conclude : 1. Let us thankfully own God's
great goodness to us in this nation— that we have peace at home, a happy govem-
snent, peaceable habitations, a defence on our glory (Isa. xxxiii. 20). 2. Let ua
xra,] ST. MARK. 629
not complain of the inconveniences that attend our being interested in the present
war; the expense of it, or the abridging and exposing of our trade and property. 3.
Let rumours of wars drive us to our knees. Pray, pray, and do not prophesy.
Spread the matter before God, and you may greatly help the cause by your
supplications. 4. Patiently wait the issue with a humble submission to the will of
Qod. Do not limit Him, nor prescribe to Him. Let Him do His own work in His
own way and time. {Matthew Henry.) Tlie sorrow of war : — The conqueror of
Bonaparte at Waterloo wrote, on the day after the 19th of June, to the Duke of
Beaufort : — " The losses we have sustained have quite broken me down, and I have
no feeling for the advantages we have acquired." On the same day, too, he wrote
to Lord Aberdeen : — " I cannot express to you the regret and sorrow with which I
look round me and contemplate the loss which I have sustained, particularly in
your brother. The glory resulting from such actions, so dearly bought, is no con-
solation to me, and I cannot suggest it as any to you and his friends ; but I hope
that it may be expected that this last one has been so decisive as that no doubt
remains that our exertions and our individual losses will be rewarded by the early
attainment of our just object. It is then that the glory of the actions in which
our friends and relations have fallen will be some consolation for their loss." He
who could write thus had already attained a greater victory than that of Waterloo ;
and the less naturally follows the greater. (Julius C. Hare.)
Ver. 8. These are the besrinnlngrs of sorrows. — The beginnings of sorrowi : — I.
Tea VALus of thesb facts im belation to the ufb and ohabacteb of the Loan.
He is the prophet of the church. He was a revealer of secrets. His word was
verified to the letter. The church lives in evil times on the word of her unseen
Lord. II. Thebe is also a suaassTioN of the connection of sobbows and sims.
Jerusalem's fate is a series of such sorrows. They arise out of religious unfaithful-
ness and moral deterioration. Nations are doomed by their own acts. III. If we do
not and will not learn the Divine uses of adversity, then the things we regret, and
which are most painful to us, will only pbove to be the beoinnings of sobbows.
If ]esser Divine chastisements do not raise us to higher moods of being, there must
be held in reserve some hotter fire of discipline. We should immediately yield to
the disciplines of God. {The Preacher^s Monthly.) The Christian's support in
troublous times : — ^Whatever happens, we must calm ourselves by remembering that
the great Christ is still in heaven, ruling by the changeless laws of righteousness.
In presence of extraordinary events, the ordinary methods of God's grace and provi-
dence will seem too slow, and the common gospel too calm; but it is exactly at such
times that we most need to maintain our faith in them. IR. Glover.) Horrors
of famine at the siege of Jerusalem : — During this dreadful time, the extremity of
the famine was such, that a Jewess of noble family, urged by the cravings of hunger,
slew her infant child, and prepared it for a meal. She had actually eaten one-half
of it, when the soldiers, attracted by the smell of food, threatened her with instant
death if she refused to show them where she had hidden it. Intimidated by this
menace, she immediately produced the remains of her son ; but, instead of sitting
down to eat, they were utterly horror-struck ; and the whole city stood aghast, when
they heard the horrible tale, congratulating those whom death had hurried away
from such heartrending scenes. Indeed, humanity at once shudders and sickens at
tiie narration; nor can any one of the least sensibility reflect upon the pitiable con-
dition to which the female part of the inhabitants must at this time have been
reduced, without experiencing the tenderest emotion of sympathy, or refraining
from tears, when he reads our Saviour's pathetic address to the women who
bewailed Him as He was led to Calvary ; for in that address He evidently refers to
these very horrors and calamities.
Ver. 10. And the gospel most first be pabllshed among all nations. — Extent of
apostolic missionary labours : — Doubtless this prediction will only receive its com-
plete accomplishment in the secondary application of the prophecy, but we hardly
reaUze how near it was to fulfilment before the destruction of Jerusalem. " The
Acts of the Apostles " fill us with amazement at the rapid progress of Christianity
in Europe and Asia, nnder the teaching of two of them. What should we not
learn if the whole Twelve had found chroniclers to record their labours ? Scattered
traditions, with more or less of certainty, show at least this, that missionary work
was carried on throughout the then known world. There is Uttle doubt that St.
Thomas established the church in Parthia and on the shores of India ; that St.
690 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap, xnu
Andrew penetrated far into Bnssia; that Bartholomew preaohed in Arabia and
among the fire-worshippers of Persia; and it haa been said that even Central Africa,
which tiie present generation bnms to win back to Christ, was the scene of St.
Matthew's labours eighteen centuries ago. St. Paul's appeal to "the hope of the
gospel which was preached to every creature which is under heaven " (Col. L 23),
though doubtless written with Oriental exaggeration, testifies to a widespread
diffusion of the truth. (H. M. Luckock, D.D.) Progreu of the gospel:—!
remember hearing a story in connection with our battle-fields. One weaiy, dreary
night, while our army was on the eve of a great and important battle, a soldier
paced np and down before the tent of his general. Wearied with his work, he
began to sing half to himself, *'When I can read my title clear." After a little
his voice grew louder, and he sang the hymn as though it were a song of victory.
His tones rang out on the still night air. After a little another soldier, off yonder,
hearing the music, and fascinated by it, joined in. There was a duet.^ A little
longer, and another voice, farther off, joined, and there was a chorus, and it was not
long before the whole army, as far as the mind could reach on either dde, were
joining in that wondrous chorus, and singing in the presence ol the enemy,
** When I can read my title clear,
To mansions in the sky."
Well, brethren, when I heard the story, it seemed to me that I eonld see in the far-off
distance that wondrous carpenter's Son of Nazareth, standing alone and singing,
" Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace and goodwill to men." After a
little twelve disciples took up the refrain, and joined in the chorus. After a little
longer, in the next century, a still larger company gathered and sang it with all
their hearts. In the next century a still larger number added their voices, and now,
after eighteen hundred years have gone by, tiie music of that wondrous song, which
began with Him who stood in His father's workshop, is sung, and echoed, and re-
echoed the whole wide world over. It is our revelation from God, and it is the
impulse that lifts as all up to God. {GhrUtian Mirror.)
Ver. 11. But when they shall lead yon, and deliver you vp,—Tfie dUeiplee led,
delivered, and taught : — Our Lord is here foretelling the persecutions which the
disciples would be called upon to suffer for the gospel's sake, and is arming them
against the errors, the deceits, and the cruelties of those times. He is also enjoining
upon them how they are to conduct themselves under the subtlety and fury of the
oppressor, and is giving them directions which, if they rightly follow, will not only
determine the excellence of their discipleship, but the certain^ of their triumph
over the jeopardy and envy of circumstances and foes. (See verses 9 to 13.) Deal-
ing directly with the eleventh verse, we see — I. That when suffering persecution the
disciples were to be led, and not driven. "But when they shall lead yon." It is
always better to be led than forced; more is to be gained from obedience than
coercion. We are led, or we lose that obedience which constitutes the soul of god-
liness. We follow, or we are not led as Christ was and would have us to be. He
was led as a lamb to the slaughter, &o. Stephen, the martyr, was led ; so Paul the
apostle. So also was Ridley and Latimer, each ending their earthly lives in the
very track and spirit of their Lord and Master. But observe again— 11. The
disciples were to be delivered in opposition to becoming resistful and violently taken
sacrifices. " But when they shall lead you, and deliver you up." Both led and de-
livered. Not to be led, and then to take a final stand of opposition. The deliver-
ance must not be less loyal and true than the leading has been. The sacrifice must
be complete. Begun in being led, in true following, it must not end in rebellious
resistance and forsaking. No; we are to be delivered up, not thmst up — self-
offered and complying rather than confiicting with our foes. (See Isa. 1. 6 ; 1 Peter
ii. 21-23). Then further, Uie text teaches— HI. That in times of persecution the
disciples were not to prepare and to rely upon mechanical defences. " Take no
thought beforehand what ye shall spei^, neither do ye premeditate ; but whatso-
ever," &o. The reasons for this are evident. Self-thought, self-prepared plans of
defence, would — 1. Disturb and disorder their minds. Scheming for words of reply
and methods of escape would result in mental distraction. They would be con-
fused. And, moreover, trusting to means of self-defence would — 2. Deny and
neutralize the proper ofl&ce and power of the Holy Spirit. *' Whatsoever shall be
given yon in that hour, that speak ye ; for it is not ye that speak, but the Holy
m.] 8T. MARK. 531
Ghost** Thus, then, acting as true believers should— serving Christ fearlessly, all
our self -reserve given up to His guidance and power— we shall find the Holy Spirit
(in all those cases morally correspondent to the circumstances of our text) to (a)
Sufficiently enlighten our minds, {b) To be timely and powerful in the exercise of
His help. Either the help of deliverance, or that of loyal resignation ; complete
escape, or patient endurance. In illustration and proof of these, see Exodus iv.
10-12 ; Jer. i. 7-9 ; Luke xxi. 14, 15 ; 1 Cor. ii. 13. In this aspect of heaven's
cause the answer and the help must be from heaven, and not from the earth, " A
man can receive nothing except it be given him from heaven" (John iii. 27). Here
alone is the true light and the power that prevails. It is therefore plain — IV, That
where the Holy Spirit thus operates all human self-assertion is suppressed. ♦* For
it is not ye that speak, but the Holy Ghost." And this takes place— 1. For our sake
as Christ's true disciples. This is the victory He gives, and without which we
could not overcome the world. 2. To prevent self-glorying. In these crises the
tongue of the learned and the pen of a ready writer come from God. Human
sagacity can claim no credit. This wisdom is not of man, lest he should boast.
And — 3. To secure the Divine victory and praise. To Him who directs and speaks
belongs the glory. " Not by might, nor by power, but by My Spirit, saith the Lord
of hosts." Thine, therefore is the victory, and the power, and the glory for ever.
Amen. (Thomas Colclough).
Ver, 12. Now the brother shall betray the brother to iiesXh..— Christianity earning
division : — As Christianity gives birth to and cherishes the most perfect love, so it
calls forth the most bitter hatred. It calls forth a love which is above nature,
because it makes men love their enemies. Contrariwise it calls forth a hatred which
is unnatural, for it made, and yet makes, men hate and betray, and, if they can,
destroy their own flesh and blood. Thus we read that the Emperor Domitian, in
his hatred of the Christian name, slew Flavius Clemens and his niece, or neat
relation Flavia Domitilla; the Emperor Maximin martyred Artemia, his own sister;
and Diocletian slew his own wife, and other relatives. St. Barbara also was killed
by her own father ; and if we had a full martyrology of obscure Christians, we
should find multitudes of others similarly betrayed by their own flesh and blood.
We are told by Indian missionaries, that as soon as converts are baptized, they be-
come objects of hatred to their nearest relatives ; even their wives often desert
them. Now, if this be so in a country where Christianity is the religion of the rulers,
what would it be if heathenism were michecked in its power of persecution?
(M. F, Sadler, M.A.).
Ver. 13. But he that shall endure unto the end, the same ehaU be saved.-
Of letting go and giving up : — The tower of a lofty Christian character and life is
not going to push itself up in a night like Jonah's gourd. You cannot wake up some
fine morning, in glad surprise, to find it finished to the turret stone. To build that
tower costs. It costs sacrifice. It costs skill. It costs patience. It costs resolution.
As gravitation pulls stones downward and glues them to the earth, and as, if they
go into the tower at all, they must be lifted there with wrench and strain, so this
tower of a noble Christian hfe must be builded in the face of opposition, and at the
cost of fight with it. But history has borne out the words of Christ. In other
times it has come to that. The Inquisition made it come to that. The massacre
of St. Bartholemew, for which Rome sang Te Deumst made it come to that. Phihp
the Second of Spain made it come to that. The Duke of Alva, during his govern-
ment of the Netherlands, made it come to that. Thank God, Torquemada cannot
torture now! Thank God, there is no fuel for Smithfield fires now I But
still now, in our time, in this worldly world, no man can give himself in utter
consecration to the unworldly Christ, and put his feet squarely in His exemplifying
footprints, and go on in resolute practice after Him, and not meet various oppo-
sition. It is well worth noting how constant is the insistence of the Scripture on,
not simply foundation laying, but also on turret stone lifting, on finishing. ** I
have inclined mine heart to perform Thy statutes always, even unto the end," sings
David. •• Wherefore gird up the loins of your mind, be sober and hope unto the
end," urges the Apostle Peter. " For we are made partakers of Christ, if we hold
the beginning of our confidence steadfast unto the end," declares the author of the
Epistle to the Hebrews. And the Epistles to the Seven Churches in the Revelation
are full of this doctrine of the importance of the end. *' Be thou faithful unto
death, and I will give thee a crown of life." This, I am certain, is one of the
Sn THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap, jjik
commonest assanlts of evil ; this toward discouragement, toward despondency ia
the practice of the true life ; this towaid letting go and giving up. " Well, you
have laid the foundation," Satan says: "you have accepted Christ and been bap-
tized and joined the church, and professed yourself a Christian. You have started,
but think how long it is before you can come to that turret stone. You are a fool to
try. Give up. Have done with it. Anyway, you are a fool to try in your circum-
stances ; or certainly you are a fool to try with your disposition. What may under
lucre favourable circumstances, or with another sort of inherited disposition, be
possible for others, is surely impossible for you. Why strain and struggle and
wrench at the impossible ? Don't I Quit t " Who has not felt the subtle acid .i
this temptation eating out the substance of his high endeavour ? Some time since,
I was talking with a young Christian business man in another city. He was
troubled with the very problem which tormented the Psalmist long ago : "For I
was envious at the foolish, when I saw the prosperity of the wicked." That is pre-
cisely what he was saying : " Here am I. 1 have determined to be straight and
true, and Christian in my business ; and I have been. But look at that man ; he
isn't, but see how he gets on. What's tlie use of my toiling at this tower of a
Christian business integrity, when it is work so hard and slow ? Why wouldn't it
be better for me to stop toiling at this Christian tower, and go on with one which
men would call— well, at least measurably decent, like that man's, but which
mounts into the sky of success in such swift and easy fashion ? " It was only a
luomentary temptation. But I am sure he is not the only Christian business man,
be he young or old, who has felt the force of it Or, here again, is a young Chris-
tian. He has laid the foundation of this Christian tower well and thoroughly in
prayer and penitence and faith in Christ. He is full of the beautiful enthusiasm
of the new life. He has confessed his Lord and is going on in the rejoicing pur-
pose of building a life his Lord can smile on. And then, as sometimes in the early
summer the flowers come upon a frost that bites and draggles them, the chill of the
inconsistencies of some older Christians smites all his beautiful enthusiasm down.
Why am I under obligations to be any better than they, the older, more experienced,
more prominent Christians ? Why cannot I at least loosen the tug of my endeavour,
if I do not altogether give up and let go ? " Or, here is a Christian wife and
mother. To be the sole source and centre of religious influence in the home is
very hard ; to seek to breathe about the home a Christian atmosphere, when the
husband, if he do no more, does meet and chill it by the icy air of his indifference ;
to have to train the children away from, instead of towards, the example of the
father in the topmost and most important thing, the matter of religion ; to have to
meet this objection, falling from the lips of her own child: "Father never prays;
why should I ? Father never cares much for Sunday ; why should I ? Father
never says he loves the Saviour; why should I try to? " — well, I do not wonder that
she feels sometimes like letting go and giving up. I do not wonder that sometimes
her cross seems too rugged and too heavy. And now that we may arm ourselves
against this so common temptation of letting go and giving up, let us attend to-
gether to certain principles opposed to it. I. Let us get cheek fob oubselves by
BEaiEMBEBINO THAT THE WOBLD'S BEST WOBE HAS BEEN DONE AND THE NOBLEST LIVU
HAVE BEEN LIVED BY MEN AND WOMEN WHO, LIKE OTJBSELVES, HAVE SOMETIMES FELT LIKX
LETTING GO AND GIVING UP. There is a verse of Scripture which many a time has
been to me both a comfort and a girding. It is written in the First Epistle to the
Corinthians, in the tenth chapter and at the thirteenth verse: "There hath no
temptation taken you but such as is common to man ; but God is faithful, who will
not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able, but will with the temptation
also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it." " So I am not," I have
said to myself, in darker and more despairing moments, " one singled out for un-
usual and separate trial ; others have been wrapped in clouds similar, others have
stood in ways as thorny." That is a twisted and bubble-blown and distorting glass,
which trial so often bids us look through, out upon the landscape of our lives—
that nobody else has ever had to meet such chastening discipline as our own. Why,
there was Moses ; he had just this very feeling toward letting go and giving up. It was
immensely hard to satisfy those Israelites. There was David, hunted and hounded;
turned against and betrayed by his trusted counsellor, Ahithophel. " Fearfulness
and trembling have come upon me, and horror hath overwhelmed me. And I said.
Oh ! that I lutd wings like a dove, for then would I fly away and be at rest. I
would hasten my escape from tiie windy storm and tempest." There was Elijah
tmder the juniper tree, " It is enough ; now, O Lord, take away my life." Wha»
oiut. nn.] ST. MARK. 63d
failing feeling toward letting go and giving np in himl And if von leave the
Scripture and turn to the record of great lives anywhere, you shall find that in them,
too, feeling faltered, and suggestion came to cease from their great tower building
this side the turret stone. I suppose a sermon scarcely ever did more, both for
the man himself and the great cause it advocated, than Dr. Wayland's sermon on
the Moral Dignity^ of the Missionary Enterprise. But the evening of its preaching
was chill and rainy, and possibly fifty persons made up the audience, and the
church was so cold tiiat the preacher had to wear his great coat throughout the
service, and nobody seemed to listen, nor anybody to care ; and the next day the
discouraged preacher, throwing himself on the lounge in the house of one
of his parishioners, in one of his most despairing moods, exclaimed : ♦• It was a
complete failure ; it fell perfectly dead I " I am sure he felt hke letting go and
giving up, when he remembered that he had rewritten that sermon eleven times that
he might make it more worthy, and that such was the outcome of it. But that
sermon, published, made him, and, more than any other influence in those begin-
ning days of the Foreign Missionary enterprise, made the cause. The Duke of
Wellington, when a subaltern, was anxious to retire from the army, where he
despaired of advancement, and actually applied to the Lord Lieutenant of Ireland
for the poor post of a commissioner of customs. And his great antagonist, the
great Napoleon, was in early life tempted to commit suicide because he could do
nothing and could get no chance, and was only saved from it by a cheerful word
from somebody. Oh 1 friend of mine, you are not the only person in the world who
has been assaulted by this suggestion of letting go and giving up. There has
never been a noble or achieving life anywhere that has not had to push its tower up
in spite of it. II. Let us remember that this failing to endure to the end, this giving
up and letting go, must necessarily cabby with itbeut a complete forfeitubb of
THE PAST. If our Past has been true and noble, we may be helped by it in the
Present. But we cannot live upon the Past. The tower is unfinished if we stop
this side of the turret stone. It is but an untuming and useless wheel if we do not
take advantage of the present water. All its previous turning helps it not. There
at Muckross Abbey I saw a yew tree hundreds of years old, as old as the crumbling
abbey rising round it, yet still growing bravely on. It was growing, because,
standing on the Past of gnarled trunk and spreading branches, it was using the
Present, forming its leaf buds every season, and drinking in the dew and light. But
the abbey in whose court it stood was only a disintegrating pile of crumbling stone,
because it had ceased relation with the Present. It had no use for the Present, nor
the Present for it ; no longer were busy hands of inmates putting it to function,
keeping it in repair. It was a Past thing, so the severe Present was treading it
under foot. To give up and let go is to forfeit what we have done and have been.
The Past is useful only as a preparation for the Present ; and if in the Present we
will not steadily push on toward the finishing, we lose the value and meaning of the
Past. Besist, therefore, the temptation of letting go and giving up. III. Let us
resist the temptation of letting go and giving up, by holdino oubselvbs to thb
SHORT VIEW OF LIFE, BY DOING THE NEXT THiNO. Eaoh day's stone laid in each day's
time; the short view method, the next thing method, that is the only method of
strong endurance and shining achievement. Wise words those which George
Macdonald puts into the mouth of Hugh Sutherland in his story of David Elgin-
brod ; they are words worthy the careful heeding of every one of us : " Now, what
am I to do next? " asks Hugh, and he goes on thinking with himself : " It is a
happy thing for us that this is really all we have to concern ourselves about, what
to do next. No man can do the second thing. He can do the first. If he omits it,
the wheels of the social Juggernaut roll over him, and leave him more or less
crushed behind. If he does it, he keeps in front and finds room to do the next
again ; and so he is sure to arrive at something, for the onward march will carry
him with it. There is no saying to what perfection of success a man may come
who begins with what he can do, and uses the means at hand ; he makes a vortex
of action, however slight, toward which all the means instantly begin to gravitate."
True words, the veir gospel of achievement, these. So against this temptation
toward letting go and giving up, let me take the short view, let me seise the next
thing, and not trouble myself about the fortieth thing, sure^ that God's grace will
give the strength for the coming day to which the fortieth thing belongs ; but that,
if I want God's strengthening grace for that, I must use God's strengthening grace
which offers itself to-day, and for this next thing, which belongs to no other day ia
all time'ti awful calendar but this. lY. Let us bemembkb thai bbfusxbo to yixlb
634 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap. siii.
TO THE TEMPTATION OP LETTING 00 AND OIVINO UP IS THE CONSTANT PCONO OUBBKLVES
BUT THE MOBB PIEMLT IN THE HABIT OP OOINO ON IN BIGHTE0USNE8S. Dark laW that,
which through and because of momentary decisions against righteousness, ends in
the awful doom, " Let him that is filthy be filthy still." But that same law has a
sunward side bright as the light that flashes from God's throne, viz., that momen-
tary and constant decisions towards righteousness end at last in that celestial turret
stone, piercing the far radiances of Heaven — " Let him that is righteous be righteous
still." V. Let us remember that for us, keeping hold and refusing to let go, thebb
IS THE CONSTANT HELP OP Christ TOWARD TRIUMPHING. That is a swcct legend
hanging about an old church in England, and it tells the great truth well; how
centuries ago, when the monks were rearing it, a new temple for the worship of
their God, there came among the workers a strange monk, unasked, who always took
on himself the heaviest tasks ; and how at last, when a particularly gigantic beam
was needed for a position as important as that of the keystone of an arch, and how
when, with sweating strain and united effort, it was lifted to its place, it was
strangely found to be some feet too short. No device of the builders could remedy
it ; they had tried their best with it, they had used the most careful measurement
they knew, but how sadly they had failed ! There it was, too short, and their ut-
most skill could not find remedy. The night shut down upon the tired workers, and
they went to their rest with sore hearts, leaving only this unknown monk, who
would go working on. But when the morning came, and the workers came forth
again, they saw the sunlight falling on the beam exactly in its place, lengthened to
the precise dimensions needed, and resting accurately on its supports. But the un-
known monk had disappeared. Yet the workers knew Him now, and were certain
they could carry the temple onward to its topmost turret. For He who had
been working with them and supplying their lack of perfect work, they came now to
know, was none other than the Lord Himself. They were not unhelped toilers.
Nor are we. ♦* Lo ! I am with you always," declares our Lord I It is our privilege
to answer with the apostle, " I can do all things through Christ, who strengtheneth
me." VI. And now for the last word. Let us determine that as we hope to carry
the tower of a Christian life and service onward to its finishing ourselves, wk will
BE VERY CABEFDL NOT TO DISCOUBAOE ANY ONE BESIDE US, TOILING LIKE OUBSELVES AT
THE SAME ACHIEVEMENT. Onco a buildiug was wrapped in flame ; at a high window,
a little child was seen vainly endeavouring to escape ; a brave fireman started up a
ladder to try to rescue it. He went up, and still further up : he had almost gained
the window, but the flames darted at him and the flames smote him, and he began
to falter ; he hesitated, looked upward at the raging fire ; he shook his head ; he
was just about to turn back. Just then some one in the throng below cried :
•' Cheer him 1 Cheer him I" From a thousand throats a loud heart-helping cheer
went up. He did not turn back. He went on toward the finishing, and in a
minute he was seen through the thick drifts of smoke, with the little child safe
in his arms. So let us, every one, see to it that we cheer on aU we can who,
Uke ourselves, are struggling upward toward any nobleness. (W. EoyU J>.I>')
Unflinching endurance : — I have read of that noble servant of God, Marcus Arethu-
sius, minister of a church in the time of Constantino, who in Constantino's time
had been the cause of overthrowing an idol's temple ; afterwards, when Julian came
to be emperor, he would force the people of that place to build it up again. They
were ready to do it, but he refused ; whereupon those that were his own people, to
whom he preached, took him, and stripped him of all his clothes, and abused his
naked body, and gave it up to the children, to lance it with their pen-knives, and
then caused him to be put in a basket, and anoint his naked body with honey, and
set him in the sun, to be stung with wasps. And all this cruelty they showed be-
cause he would not do anything towards the building up of this idol temple ; nay,
they came to this, that if he would do but the least towards it, if he would give but
a half-penny to it, they would save him. But he refused all, though the giving of
a half-penny might have saved his life : and in doing this, he did but live up to that
principle that most Christians talk of, and all profess, but few come up to, viz., that
we must choose rather to suffer the worst of torments that men and devils can
invent and inflict, than to commit the least sin, whereby God should be dishonoured,
our consciences wounded, religion reproached, and our own souls endangered.
{Brooks.) Enduring to the end: — Under this revival of the persecuting spirit, in
a few days nineteen Christians, conspicuous for their character and zeal, were
apprehended, and it was resolved to make a severe example. All were condemned
to die ; the four nobles (one of them a lady) were ordered to be burned alive ; fifteen
A». xm.] 8T. MARK. 635
others were to be thrown over a precipice. At one o'clock the night before their
execution, a large gathering of their companions secretly took place, not to break
prison or attempt a rescue, but to commend the sufferers specially to God in prayer.
" At one at night, we met together and prayed." With the early dawn the whole
city was astir : it had been whispered that the Christians were to die, and an im-
mense multitude gathered to witness the sight. On the west side of Antananarivo,
is a steep precipice of granite, a hundred and fifty feet high ; the terrace above
which has long been used as a place of execution. Above the terrace the ground
rises rapidly to the crest of the ridge, on which the city is built, and on which the
palace enclosure, with its lofty dwellings, stands conspicuous. Beneath the preci-
pice the ground is a mass of jagged rocks and boulders, upon which the unhappy
oriminal would fall headlong, when rolled or thrown over the ledge. The refined
cruelty which invented this terrible punishment has, in the modem world, been
repeated in but one country and among one people, the half- savage population of
Mexico. Through the thousands that had crowded every point of the sloping hill
the condemned brethren were carried, wrapped in mats and slung on poles. But
they prayed and sang as they passed along the roadway; "and some who beheld
them, said that their faces were like the faces of angels." One by one they were thrown
over the precipice, the rest looking on. " Will you cease to pray ? " was the only
question. "No," was the firm answer in every case. And in a moment the faithful
martyr lay bleeding, and mangled, and dead, among the rocks below. — {Trophies
of Grace in Madagascar.) The finally saved ;— I. It is a faib subject of inquiry :
Whebb and from whence do we expect these tbials? 1. From our own
heart. 2. The wiles and the machinations of Satan. 3. The world will
assault you. 4. Sin in all its phases, its fascinating aspects, will seek to
seduce you. 6. Error will assail you. II. Thosb fobms of bbuoion, those
SHADES AND SYSTEMS OF BELIEF, WHICH WILL NOT ENDUBE, BUT MUST COL-
LAPSE IN THE OBDEALS TO WHICH THEY WILL BE SUBJECTED IN A WOBLD WHICH TESTS
THE BEAL EVEBY DAY, AND BEJECIS ALL THAT IS PBETENTI0U8. Nothing will CUdure
but vital, scriptural Christianity. 1. The religion of mere impulse. Excitement is
not conviction. 2. The religion of sentiment, not the religion of conviction nor of
the adoption of the heart, but purely of the imagination. 3. The reUgion of intel-
lect. A very striking and, so far, commendable form. The understanding is con-
vinced that Christianity is true. It is orthodoxy, not regeneration ; it is light in
the head without love in the heart. 4. The religion of the conscience. 5. The
religion of the natural affections, than which nothing is more amiable, beautiful, or
lovely ; and yet it is a religion that will not endure. 6. The religion of tradition.
7. The religion of form. There is no endurance in it ; it collapses the moment it
ts exposed to trouble. {J. Gumming, D.D.) Perseverance .--—The leopard doth
not run after his prey like other beasts, but pursues it by leaping ; and if at three
or four jumps he cannot seize it, for very indignation he gives over the chase.
There be soma who, if they cannot leap into heaven by a few good works, will even
let it alone ; as if it were to be ascended by leaping, not by climbing. But they are
more unwise who, having got up many rounds of Jacob's ladder, and finding diffi-
culties in some of the uppermost — whether wrestling with assaults and troubles, or
looking down upon their old allurements — even fairly descend with Demas and
allow others to take heaven. (T. Adams.) Constancy: — Some dyes cannot
bear the weather, but alter colour presently; but there are others that, having
something that gives a deeper tincture, will hold. The graces of a true Christian
hold out in all sorts of weather, in winter and summer, prosperi^ and adversity,
when superficial counterfeit holiness will give out. {R. Sibbes.) ^ Incentives to
perseverance : — Here are some grounds or motives to the patient suffering of persecu-
tion and troubles for the profession of Christ and of the gospel. 1. Of all afflic-
tions and troubles, those are the most comfortable to suffer and endure, which are
suffered for Christ. 2. By these kinds of sufferings we glorify God, and bring
honour to the name of Christ, and credit to the gospel, more than by any other suf-
ferings. 3. It is a most honourable thing unto us, yea, the greatest glory that may
be in this world, to suffer anything for Christ. 4. Consider how much Christ has
suffered for us, and for our salvation ; how great reproach and shame ; what bitter pain
and torment of soul and body ; and let this move us, patiently and willingly to suffer
any persecution and trouble for His sake. 5. Consider how much wicked men
suffer in the practice of sin, and to satisfy their wicked lusts, and let this move oa
to suffer any persecution for Christ. 6. Consider the great and excellent reward
Dromised to those who endure for Christ's sake. (George Fetter.) Endurance: —
53i TEE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap, inu
This is another word for constancy or perseverance. Suppose, now, the case oi
individuals desirous of realizing, as a matter of experience, the great vital truths of
the gospel in the heart. They have great doubts about the correctness and safety
of thek former mode of life, and consequently feel in some measure attracted to-
wards the hopes, and aspirations, and privileges of the Christian. But they have
to stand up against many oppositions; they have to withdraw from the society of
the giddy and thoughtless, and from habits of dissipation and worldliness. They
have to contend with disincliuations for public and private religious duties, for
prayer and Scripture reading. They begin to find that it is no easy thing to act the
part of self-denial — to wrestle against the warm passions and earnest longings ol
a corrupt nature. They feel, too, the trial of a wayward and treacherous heart,
ever tending downwards, cleaving to the dust. Such persons as these are like the
Israelites upon the shores of the Bed Sea, with its surging breakers and rolling
waves before them, and the Egyptians behind them. And yet God said unto Moses,
" Speak unto the children of Israel, that they go forward." They must not turn
hack to Egypt again, but must step onward to brave the sea. And so with those i»
the state described. Do not turn back. Do you not yield to tempting solicitations
to return to foimer haunts. Be faithful to your convictions. By perseverance in
treading the path of duty the victory shall be yours — the path shall be ever brighter
and broader as you near your everlasting home. The young eaglet looking up from
its nest upon the high floating clouds and the broad expanse of the clear blue sky, may,
perhaps, in its first efforts to mount through and above them, sink with discourage-
ment ; but the parent bird is close at hand to give help ; and so by perseverance,
at last the eaglet soars in the path of its mother, and rivals her in distance as
well as in rapidity. Even so the weak in faith shall be made strong. {W. D.
Horwood.) Enduring to tlie end: — Among the different games and races at
Athens, there was one in which they carried a burning torch in their hand. If they
reached the goal without its being extinguished, they obtained the prize. Thus,
they only shall be saved, says the Saviour, who endure to the end. It is not the
man who makes a splendid profession for a season— it is not the man who appears
to carry the torch of truth only a part of the way — that shall be crowned ; but he
who perseveres, and whose lamp is trimmed, and who holds fast his confidence,
and the rejoicing of his hope, unto the end. Yet, alas 1 how many seem to bid fair
for a season, but in time of temptation fall away. Epictetus tells us of a gentleman
returning from banishment, who, on his journey homewards, called at his house,
told a sad story of an imprudent life ; the greater part of which being now spent,
he was resolved for the future to live philosophically ; to engage in no business, to
be candidate for no employment, not to go to court, nor to salute Caesar with am-
bitious attendances ; but to study, and worship the gods, and die willingly when
nature or necessity called him. Just, however, as he was entering his door, letters
from Csesar, inviting him to court, were delivered to him ; and, then, alas ; he forgot
all his promises, and grew pompous, secular, and ambitious. Thus many form
resolutions in their own strength, and make for a season some pretentions to
seriousness ; but prove like the children of Ephraim, who, though armed and carry-
ing bows, yet turned back in the day of battle. Enduring to the end: — To
endure, that is the great point. It does not simply signify that a man should
hold on, but that a man should hold on in spite of, and in the face of dis-
couragements, aud difficulties, and disappointments. It is more than "dure,"
it is " endure." It is a very great mistake for Christian people to imagine that iXk
will be light and liberty, and peace and joy. There are representations in the Word
of God of the Christian course that seem to be contrary, but they are only different
aspects of the whole subject. For instance : " Her ways are ways of pleasantness,
and all her paths are peace." "Your joy no man taketh from you." " Rejoice in
the Lord al«ay." Yet, on the other hand, as we had it this morning, " If any man
will come after Me, let him take up his cross daily." Again, we are told, we must
" mortify " our evil and corrupt affections ; that we must " crucify the flesh with
the affections and lusts;" that "the right hand" must be "cut off," and th«
" right eye plucked out," in order that we may follow and obey our Lord and Master
Now all these things are not contrary, but they are reconciled. There is joy, but it
is joy in the midst of trouble ; there is peace, but it is peace maintained by constant
warfare ; and there is blessed rest, but it is rest in labour and toil. II we have a
battle to fight, if we have a race to run, if we have a building to erect, it must be
with toil, and trouble, and effort. We shall have to " endure to the end." It will
not avail to be constant and enduring in the outset, but we must endure to the end.
. xm.] ST. MARK. 537
Many will try to prevent oar following the Lord fally, they will tz^ to disooorage as.
And then, too, do we not find very many, from following into different companies,
and amongst gay, thoughtless, and worldly oompanionships, get absorbed in the
vortex of hfe, tiieir holiness is gone, they tumble down in the mire, their hope is
withered, and passes away as a dream. Then, again, are there not very many who
get into some peculiar state of trial from perseoation, or reproach, or something they
did not count upon ; they are ashamed of Jesus, they are ashamed of the cross, and
BO they betray the M£«ter with a kiss. Then, again, how many are disheartened
and discoaragsd with the struggle in their own hearts. They set out with much
emotion, but feeling too httle faith. How many things lead a man to come short
oi eternal life ! It is, perhaps, more beautiful to see a man in little comfort and in
darkness, holding on, than one who walks in the full sunshine. Job was able to
say, " Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him." Was not that a beautiful in-
stance of enduring to the end ? When he was stripped of everything, — without were
fightings, and within were fears ; clouds, and tribulations, and adversity were about
him ; yet he says, *♦ though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him." We have not full
salvation now ; it is in progress, it is not complete ; it is the man that endures to
the end that attains the full recompense, and enters into the joy of the Lord. This
is the great purpose and end. We do not set out on a voyage just for the purpose
of setting out ; we have to seek to reach the haven. We do not cover ourselves in
armour simply for the sake of being ready for the battle, but that we may fight and
win the victory, and gain the crown ; therefore, after all, this is the grand test of
onr having true faith in Christ, that we continue in Christ, that we abide as
branches in the vine, and bear fruit. How much blossom of promise there is that
has no measure of fruit? Let us never forget that there maybe a good deal of
seeming fruit ; but if it does not last, if it drops off it is beoanse it is worthless,
rotten at the core. You sometimes see under a fruit tree the ground strewn with
fallen fruit. Somebody may say, perhaps, some great storm has passed over, or
some sudden frost, when probably the truth has been that the fruit itself was an-
flound at the core, and that, therefore, it rotted and fell off. Brethren, it is so with
the fruits that grow in the orchard of God ; many are fair and seeming good to the
sight, but they are not sound at the core. The proof that they are sound is, that
they still cling to the tree and ripen, until, as it is beautifully said, •' the righteous
shall hold on his way, and he that hath clean hands shall be stronger and stronger."
(Hugh mowell, M.A,)
Ver. 14. Let him that readeth imderBtaad. — Need of an attentive mind : — Let
him strive to understand (this meansj by reading with utmost attention, diligence,
and devotion, weeping as John did, till the sealed book was opened ; digging deep
in the mine of the Scriptures for the mind of God, and holding it fast when he hath
it, lest at any time he should let it slip. Admirable is that, and applicable to this
pturpose, which Philostratus relates of the precions stone Pantarbe, of so orient,
bright, and sweet a colour, that it both dazzles and refreshes the eyes at once, draw-
ing together heaps of other stones by its secret force (though far distant), as hives
of bees, &c. But lest so costly a gift should grow cheap, nature has not only hid it
in the innermost bowels of the earth, but also has put a faculty into it, of slipping
out of the hands of those who hold it, unless they be very careful to prevent it.
CJohn Trapp. ) Reading the Scriptures : — Motives to the dihgent reading of the
Scriptures in private. 1. Consider the excellency of the Scriptures above all other
books and writings of men. They are the books of God Himself ; the letter of the
Creator to the creature. 2. Consider how much spiritual fruit and profit is to be
reaped by the diligent reading of the Scripture : this being an excellent means not
only to build as up in the knowledge of those things which concern God's glory,
and onr own salvation ; but also to confirm and strengthen our faith, and to quicken
and stir us up to all oonscionable obedience to the will of God, as well in doing, as
in suffering what He requires of us. 3. Consider the examples of such as have
been most diligent, and taken great pains in reading the Scriptures. Cromwell
conld say the New Testament withoat book. Bishop Bidley learned all St Paul's
Epistles by heart. (Qeorge Fetter,)
Vers. 15, 16. Not go down Into the lumso. — Opportunity to he ieUed : — Oppor-
tanity is like a string of stepping-stones across a ford. The traveller, coming ap to
them, may find the river so swollen witii the rains that the stones are all but
•overed. If he delay, though his home be on the opposite bank, and fall in sight.
638 TEE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap. xm.
it may be too late to cross, and he may have a journey of several miles to reach hii
home. {Union Magazine.) Danger of delay : — Opportunity is like a narrow
passage in the Arctic Seas. Sometimes, in these northern regions, ships get enclosed
in a narrow space between ice-islands. The floating rocks glide nearer the ship on
every side, and the dismayed seamen behold their only chance of escape from the
fatal crash lies in a narrow channel, that every moment grows still narrower. How
hurriedly they press their vessel through that strip to reach the safety of the open
ocean I Even so must we press along the narrow way that leads to eternal life ;
for who knows how soon that narrow way may be closed against him. {Ibid.)
Ver. 18. That your flight be not In the winter. — The difficulty ofeonvenion <n old
age : — There is a winter in human life, as there is a winter in the seasons of the
year. Infancy is our spring ; and the bud of existence which is then nourished and
cherished, opens its flowers during the summer of youth. In riper years, and in
the vigour of manhood, the fruit is put forth : -and this period we call the autumn of
our days. But if death spare us a little longer, there will come ice in the blood,
and snow on the brow ; and all the emblems of a moral winter are thickly strewed
over the man. And if there has been no fleeing to the mercy of the Lord, whilst
the advance of summer and autumn has warned us that our year would soon draw
to a close, it will be a hard thing, and a scarcely possible thing, when the limb has
grown rigid, when the blood is congealed, and when the branches hang withered
from the stem, to drag ourselves along ; and the man, in the winter of his days,
when his foot is halting, and his eye is darkening, and his blood is freezing, is so
onfltted to brave the difficulties of the rugged path of winter, that no consideration
should have more weight with the young and with the impenitent than the recom-
mendation of our text. It will not be supposed, then, that, by any of my statements,
I do at all hmit the operations of grace, or insinuate that there can be no flight
during the winter because there has been none before the winter. On the contrary,
the mere fact of its being subject of prayer that our flight may not be in the winter,
implies that flight is at the least practicable, though not then easy. First, the
difficulty of flight in the winter. — Secondly, the danger that flight, if deferred to the
winter, will not then be practicable. I. The difficulty or flight in the wiktbb;
or, to drop th'i metaphor, the difficulty of conversion in old age. The Spirit
doth strive with every one ; and by secret admonitions and suggestions, by working
npon hope and exciting fear, it does summon all men to consider their ways, and
aUows not that any sinner should go on in transgression, and not have its ruinous
result set before him. Well, then, if this statement be accurate — if it be true that
all men are plied with inducements and threatenings, and that the Divine machinery
is brought to bear on their consciences; it follows that the aged sinner must have
resisted many godly motions : and now he stands, in the winter of his days, the
hero of a succession of victories. But then, they have been victories won by the
lust of the flesh, by the lust of the eye, and by the pride of life— over the benevolent
t trivings of holy angels, and the merciful interpositions of Deity Himself. And I
ask whether it will not be necessarily true, that the man who has resisted saoh
impressions will be found correspondently hardened against threatenings. The
aged sinner must have been successful in stifling anxiety, and in drowning con-
science : and thus he hath closed up, so to speak, the common avenues throogh
which the gospel message finds entrance. Hence, there is less hope of the aged
sinner. But not only has the aged sinner resisted much ; but it will generally
happen that he has invented much. He will haye his own scheme of salvation : he
will have devised some method of quieting alarm: he will have arranged some
system of religion for himself. I cannot but suppose that this is ordinarily the
case. I cannot suppose that there are many aged men, who give themselves no
concern touching the things of eternity. Sometimes indeed we are presented with
that sad spectacle— an old man hunting after money which his trembling hands
cannot grasp ; or an old woman tottering into the grave with a heap of new fashions
hung on her shrivelled body. But I am ready to believe, that very commonly old
people have some thought about the future ; and, to use the common-place phrase,
cast up their account with God, and contrive by the most ingenious arithmetic to
strike a balance in their own favour. They have sinned in their youth ; but, thank
God, He has given them time for repentance ; and the seriousness of later years has
made amends for the frivohties of the earlier. They may have offended s great
deal, but then they have suffered a great deal ; and Uie afflictions will be taken ai
an Atonement for the transgression. Their lives have been excellent lives; no
. xm.] 8T, MARK. 533
Bum was ever wronged by them: they were m trade for half a century, and
kept nnsuUied the oharacter of honourable dealers. They were engaged in the
management of varioas societies, and received pieces of plate as compUments to
their integrity. One old man is comforted because he has been a very moral
man ; and another, because he has been a very charitable man ; and a third, because
Gk>d is a God of wonderiul mercy ; and a fourth, because it is too late to alter,
and things wUl probably not turn out so bad as they have been represented. I
believe the observations I have thus advanced are grounds for deciding that con-
version in the winter of life must be a work of great difficulty. It must be further
obvious to you, that, as it would be in natural, so in spiritual things, the infirmities
of the old man incapacitate him for flight. I ask you whether the old man, the withered
man, the wasted man, is adapted for grappling with so stem a communication ? Is his
mind calculated to take in what is thus overpowering ? Are his apprehensions likely
to grasp the tidings in their length and breadth? Is one so timid, the being who
is expected to arm for the battle, or to gird himself for the fight ? If it be a time of
hazard to set out upon a voyage when the vessel has just sprung a leak — and if it
be an hour of peril to conmience a journey in a foreign land when the son has
faded from the heavens — and it be a moment of danger to sit at the base of the
mountain when the avalanche is just loosening from the heights — and it be an
instant of imminent risk when the draw-bridge is trembling between us and the
citadel — then is old age and winter a dangerous season for man to dee from his
present condition. II. We have thus shown you that great difficulties are atten-
dant on flight in the winter. We are next to consider the dakoer that riiioHT, if
DEFEBBEn TO THE WINTEB, WIUj NOT THEN BE PBACTICABLE ; in Othcr WOrds, the
grounds for believing, that, if men repent not before old age, they will never repent at
all. One reason for praying against postponement is, the possibility that flight, if
delayed, may never take place. It is a trite saying, that " to-morrow never comes ; "
and I may add, that few men practically think themselves a year nearer the grave,
because they are a year older. Once more. It is the testimony of experience that
men are seldom converted in old age. Who, then, would defer flight, when the
Almighty is inviting him to join the ranks of the redeemed ? Let us address our-
selves to the journey. The days are short, and the sunbeams are watery ; the time
for repentance may soon be at an end. (H. Melvill, B.D.) Winter useful
and beautiful: — However disagreeable a very severe winter may be, in some respects,
it yet serves most important purposes. The sap retires from the extremities of shrubs
and trees, and takes refuge in the roots, thus giving them a time to rest and recupe-
rate. The covering of snow which is spread over the earth protects the grass and
the grain, and keeps all things which grow out of the ground snug and warm.
Moreover, the nipping frost kills off the myriad hordes of insects; dries up
the seeds of infectious and deadly diseases ; improves the blood, on which
our very existence depends ; and gives new vigour to the worn-out and wasted
system. Consumptive patients are no longer sent to gasp and faint beneath the
orange-groves of a debilitating southern clime, but uniform and invigorating cold
weather is found much better for them. Winter, besides being an useful season, is
certainly a very beautiful one. The earth spread smoothly over with its white
coverlid ; the icy tracery of the trees ; and the fantastic pictures which the frost
draws on the window-panes — what could be more beautiful than these ? The good-
ness of our heavenly Father is plainly discovered in the provision which He makes
for the lower orders of creation, to protect them from the rigours of winter. The
more deHcate birds are instructed by their instincts to fly off to warmer latitudes.
The creatures which are to remain behind, need not go to clothing stores for thick
coats 1 The fur, and hair, and feathers on their bodies, are made abundantly warm
to protect them ; and the colder the winter which is approaching, the better does
their gracious Creator provide for them. {J. N, Norton, D.D.) Flight in winter :—
Many of you will remember an instance of such a flight, which was disastrous in
the extreme. In the autumn of 1812, Napoleon entered Moscow with 120,000
soldiers, intending to pass the winter there in comfort. On the 13th of October
(three weeks earher than it had ever been known before), snow began to fall. The
proud Emperor looked out of his window in dismay, and decided to hasten back at
once, and establish his winter quarters in the friendly cities of Poland. It was a
march through a dreary and desolate region, of more than a thousand miles ; bu^
he put on a bold front, and the troops began to retire in good order. A week later,
and the grand army was in full retreat. Bleak, chilly winds howled through the
trees ; the weary soldiers were blinded by the flakes of snow and sle«t ; their
540 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [ohap. zni.
embittered enemies attacked them in every unguarded point ; order and disciplin«
were forgotten ; ilm ranks were broken, and each man struggled on as best he could ;
the dead and the dying were trodden down ; hundreds of horses were slain for food ;
all ideas of conquest were banished ; Napoleon himself left the army to its fate ;
and each day's weary march was marked by heaps of broken waggons, and aban-
doned cannon, and white hillocks of snow, beneam which the frozen bodies of man
and beast were buried. With such a dreadful picture of misery before you, it will
be easy to understand the tender compassion which prompted the Savionr to say :
" Pray ye that your flight be not in the winter." Especially ought we to remember
those who are suffering the sad privations of poverty, and be glad to relieve their
wants when we are able. No one can claim to have the love of God abiding in his
heart, who is willing to see a fellow mortal destitute of food and clothing, and
make no effort to help. The more merciful we are, the better shall we deserve to
be called God's children. (Ibid.) A blasphetner^t death in the snow : — It was
near the close of one of those storms that deposit a great volume of snow upon the
earth that a middle-aged man, in one of the southern counties of Vermont, seated
himself at a large Are in a log-house. He was crossing the Green Mountains from
the western to tihe eastern side ; he had stopped at the only dwelling of man in a
distance of more than twenty miles, being the width of the parallel ranges of
gloomy mountains ; he was determined to reach his dwelling on the eastern side
that day. In reply to a kind invitation to tarry in the house and not dare the
horrors of the increasing storm, he declared that he would go, and that the Almighty
was not able to prevent him. His words were heard above the howling of the
tempest. He travelled from the mountain valley where he had rested over one
ridge, and one more intervened between him and his family. The labour of walking
in that deep snow must have been great, as its depth became near the stature of a
man ; yet he kept on, and arrived within a few yards of the last summit, from
whence he could have looked down upon his dwelling. He was near a large tree, partly
supported by its trunk ; his body bent forward, and his ghastly intent features told
the stubbornness of his purpose to overpass that little eminence. But the Almighty
had prevented him ; the currents of his blood were frozen. For more than thirty
years that tree stood by the solitary road, scarred to the branches with names,
letters, and hieroglyphics of death, to warn the traveller that he trod over a spot of
fearful interest. {Baxendale's Dictionary of Anecdote,)
Ver. 19. For in those days shall be aflUctlon. —42^tction« OoSPt hired labowren : —
Aflflictions are God's hired labourers, to break the clods and plough the land.
(Anon.) Trouble a lever : — Trouble is often the lever in God's hand to raise us
up to heaven. {Anon.) Sorrow an instructor : — Has it never occurred to us when
surrounded by sorrows, that they may be sent to us only for our instruction, as we
darken the eyes of birds when we wish to teach them to sing? (Jean Paul.)
Troubled waters : — The angel troubled the waters, which then cured those who
stepped in ; it is also Christ's manner to trouble our souls first, and then to come
with healing in His wings. (R. Sibbes.) Tears : — Tears often prove the telescope
by which men see far into heaven. (H. W. Beecher.) Tuned by trouble: — Men
think God is destroying them because He is tuning them. The violinist screws up
the key till the tense cord sounds the concert-pitch ; but it is not to break it, but to
use it tunefully, that he stretches the string upon the musical rack. [Ibid.) Trouble
a tett: — Men pray to be made " men in Christ Jesus," and think in some miraculous
way it will be given to them ; but God says, " I will try My child, and see if he is
sincere ; " and so He lays a burden upon him, and says, " Now stand up under it ; **
and asks, " Where are now thy resources f " If the ambitious ore dreads the fur-
nace, the forge, the anvil, the rasp, and the file, it should never desire to be made a
sword. Man is the iron, and God is the smith ; and we are always either in the
forge or on the anvil. God is shaping as for higher things. {Ibid.) Extraordinary
afflictions are not always the punishment of extraordinary sms, but sometimes the
trial of extraordinary graces. Sanctified aflflictions are spiritual promotions.
(Matthew Henry.) The fall of Jerusalem a unique calamity : — One might explain
this language on the principle of that graphic hyperbolism that pervaded, to so large
an extent, the speech of all peoples. It is quite common, in many languages at least,
if not in all, to say of any very extraordinary affliction, it is the greatest possible.
Superlatives are often employed, when there is really no definite intention of assert-
ing a perfectly absolute prominence. It is at the same time, however, worthy of
eonsideration, whether there was not, in this catastrophe of the Jews, a minglement
WAP. ZIII.J ST. MARK. 541
ot elements, physical, intellectual, moral, and spiritual, which was so unique as to
cender the anguish, consequent on the overthrow of Jerusalem, unprecedented, and
incapable of repetition. Many peoples have been vanquished. Often have surviving
populations been " peeled," and scattered or led captive. Often have capital cities
been stormed and sacked. But the case of the Jews was peculiar. They were con-
vinced that they were the favourites of heaven. They regarded their capital as the
" City of the Great King," and the predestined Mistress of the world. Their Temple
was to them the one House of God. It could noj ue dispensed with in the world.
Hence they expected, up to the last moment, that the Lord's arm must needs con-
spicuously interpose in the extremity of their necessity, to smite the beleaguering
hosts and and rescue the beloved place and people. When one mingles the elements
of such thoughts and feelings, and their effects, with the effects of the utter social
disorganization that prevailed, and consequently with the unutterable physical woes
that preceded and succeeded the capture of the Temple, it is easy to see that the
tribulation endured may have had an edge of agony which never was before in the
history of any people, and which will never be again. {J. Morison^ D.D.) Afflic-
tion iiuih as never was andnever shall be : — At the siege of Jerusalem, Milman says,
" Every kind feeling, love, respect, natural affection, were extinct through the all-
absorbing want. Wives would snatch the last morsel from husbands, children from
parents, mothers from children. ... If a house was closed, they supposed that eat-
mg was going on, and they burst in and squeezed the crumbs from the mouths and
throats of those who were swallowing them. Old men were scourged till they sur-
rendered the food to which their hands clung desperately. . . . Children were seized
as they hung upon the miserable morsels they had got, whirled round and dashed
apon the pavement. . . . The most loathsome and disgusting food was sold at an
enormous price. They gnawed their belts and shoes. Chopped hay and shoots of
trees sold at high prices." Destruction of Jerusalem : — It is worth any man's
while to read the story of the destruction of Jerusalem as it is told by Josephus : it
ie the most harrowing of all records written by human pen ; it remains the tragedy
of tragedies ; there never was and there never will be anything comparable to it ;
the people died of famine and of pestilence, and fell by thousands beneath the
flwords of their own countrymen. Women devoured the flesh of their own children,
and men raged against each other with the fury of beasts. All ills seemed to meet
in that doomed city, it was filled within with horrors and surrounded without by
terrors. Portents amazed the sky both day and night. There was no escape,
neither would the frenzied people accept of mercy. The city itself was the banquet-
ing hall of death. Josephus says : ** All hope of escaping was now cut off from the
Jews, together with their liberty of going out of the city. Then did the famine
widen its progress, and devour the people by whole houses and families : the upper
rooms were full of women and infants that were dying by famine, and the lanes of
the city were full of the dead bodies of the aged ; the children, also, and the young
men wandered about the market places like shadows, all swelled with the famine,
and fell down dead wheresoever their misery seized them. For a time the dead were
buried ; but afterwards, when they could not do that, they had them cast down from
the wall into the valleys beneath. When Titus, on going his rounds along these
valleys, saw them full of dead bodies, and the thick pu&efaction running about them,
he gave a groan, and spreading out his hands to heaven, called God to witness tiiis
was not his doing." ((7. H. Spurgeon.)
Ver. 20. Shortened those days. — Ood ihortened the tiege : — Many oiroumstances
oombined to secure the primary fulfilment of these words. The incomplete state of
the fortifications, the paucity of food, the factions fights within the city, &c.,
shortened the siege ; and Titus himseU exclaimed, " God has fought for as : what
ooold human hand or engines do against these towers ? " (Stock,)
Ver. 22. For fUse CtaiatB.—Fal$e C/imf# ;— David George, e.g.^ who ultimately
settled at Basle, where he died in 1556. He claimed, according to the account of
Dr. Henry More, to be the true Christ, the dear Son of God, bom not of the flesh,
but of the Spirit. He was to restore the house of Israel, and re-erect the taber-
nacle of God, not by afflictions and death, as the other Messiah, but by that sweet-
ness, love, and grace, which were given him of the Father. He had the power of
the remission of sins ; and had come to administer the last judgment. He averred
that " the Holy Scriptures, the sayings and testimonies of the prophets, of Christ,
and of His apostles, do all point, if rightly understood, in their true mystery, to the
64a THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap, na
glorious coming of David George, who is greater than the former Christ, as being
bom of the Spirit, and not of the flesh." This David George, says Dr. More, was a
man " of notable natural parts, of comely person, and a graceful presence." And he
had many adherents, who believed in him. In our own day there are persons —
out of asylums — who put forth corresponding claims. There is lying before the
writer a " Tract on the Second Advent fulfilled," in which it is said that " the enrolling
of the saints commenced on the anniversary of the last day of the Feast of Taber-
i^a les of the year 1868, i.e., on the 9th of October, 1868. The following," it is added,
'< is the declaration to be made and signed: — I believe Jesus of Nazareth to be the
Messiah at His first coming, and the antitypical Paschal Lamb Who died for sin in
allegory, and I believe John Cochran of Glasgow to be that Messiah at His second com-
ing, and the antit}T)ical High Priest who has taken away sin in reality." False pro-
phets ;— Lodowick Mug|zleton,«.p., who on the title-page of his "True Interpretation of
the whole Book of the Revelation of St. John," describes himself as " one of the two
last commissioned witnesses and prophets of the only high, immortal, glorious God,
Christ Jesus." Madame Antoinette Bourignon, before him, was a far nobler being,
yet she declared to Christian de Cort, " I am sent from God to bring light to the
world, and to bear witness to the truth. He has sent me to tell that the last times
are come; that the world is judged, and the sentence is irrevocable; that the
plagues are begun, and will not cease till all evil be rooted out ; and that Jesus
Christ will come shortly to the earth to finish this, and then He will continue to reign
with ' men of goodwill,' who shall enjoy eternal peace. I am sent with a com-
mission to declare all these things to men, to the end that peradventure some of
them may be converted and repent, that they may reign with Jesus Christ in His
glory." And again, she says, *♦ I am certainly sent from God to declare the truth
of everything." False prophets in Spain: — There was great excitement in Madrid
owing to the aimouncement that the world would come to an end on the 24th of June,
1886, that day being the conjunction of the festivals of St. John and of the Corpus
Christi. The belief had taken such hold among the lower and superstitious classes
of Madrid, that the fright was general, the prophecy having been printed and circu-
lated in thousands. During the past two or three weeks many people have spent
their days in fasting, prayer, and weeping, and yesterday the churches and con-
fessionals were crowded with women. {Freeman.) Danger from those coming in
the name of Christ .—In the frescoes of Signorelli we have " The Teaching of Anti-
christ " — no repulsive figure, but a grand personage in flowing robes, and with a
noble countenance, which at a distance might easily be taken for the Saviour. To
him the crowd are eagerly gathering and listening, and it is only when you draw
close that you can discover in his harder and cynical expression, and from the evil
spirit whispering in his ear, that it is not Christ. (Augustus J. C. Hare.) Signs
AKD Wonders. — Wonder-working impostors : — '* Lying wonders " (2 Thess. ii. 9) no
doubt— wonders that serve a purpose of imposition, partly, it may be, on the wonder-
workers themselves, and partly on those whom they wish to attach to themselves.
There are wonderful idiosyncrasies among men, that give scope for the performance
of such wonders. In some natures — as in Valentine Greatrakes and Gassner (see
Ho\vitt's "History of the Supernatural "), singular therapeutic energies instinctively
well up and flow over. In others there is a singular power of something like
"second-sight," or "clairvoyance," turning fitfully its penetrative eye, now upon
objects distant in space, and now upon objects distant in time — though in a way far
removed from infallibihty. This clairvoyant eye often takes cognizance of only
frivolous realities, and seems blind to things of moment. Still its peculiarity is
fitted— when once a wiUing and shallow fanaticism tries its hand at understanding
it — to be a "lying wonder." There are other remarkable endowments and instincts,
which crop up at times in exceptional idiosyncrasies, and may give occasion either
to self -delusion, or to deliberate artifice, or to a minglement of the two peryeraities.
(J. Morisout D.D.)
Ver. 26. The Son of Man coming In the dondi. — Christ's second tidvent : — It has
been as much a hope as a fear in all religions of men that there would be a verdict
which would on the one hand bring forth men's righteousness as the light, and on
the other change their pride in sin to shame. For a new start the great thing to
be longed for is that all men and things might find their proper level ; the evil, its
rebuke and penalty ; the good, its crown and its reward. Therefore there will be
a judgment, and Christ will be the Judge. Through Him the worlds were made ;
through TTirn salvation wrought; and through Him judgment will be execated,
<»AP. xni.l ST. MARK, 543
We think too little of that day whose glory pales the sun, and of the fact that manv
things, now seeming great, will then seem trifling and contemptible, and much
obscure faithfulness will be lifted into light and glory. The uses we should make
of this truth are various. 1. It should quicken our sense of responsibility. The
thought that God ignores our deeds permits good to languish and evil to thrive.
The belief that God will bring all into judgment, stimulates good, represses evil.
2. It should give us a more vivid sense of God's providential presence. On this
world He walked ; on it He again will stand. He is the living God, and is guiding
the course of all events by His loving hand. 3. It should comfort us. Man's judg-
ment ol OS is harsh ; our judgment of ourselves unwise. But what could we ask
for more than to be judged by Christ? {R. Glover.) The second coming oj
Chritt : — ^Brethren 1 the earnest belief in and the longing for the coming of Jesus
ChriBt has been too much surrendered to one school of interpreters in unfulfilled
prophecy, who have no greater claim to possess it than the rest of us. It belongs,
or ought to belong, to us all. And I bring it to you, dear friends, as a sharp test —
what do you feel about that coming ? Can you say, " More than they that wait for
the morning, my soul waiteth for Thee " ? Does your heart leap when you think
that Christ, who is ever present, is drawing near to us 7 All the signs of the times,
intellectual and social, the rottenness of much of our life, the abounding luxury, the
hideous vice that flaunts unblamed and unabashed before us all ; the unsettlement
of opinion in which it is unbelief that seems to be " removing the mountains " that
all men thought stood fast and firm for ever ; all these things cry out to Him whose
ear is not deaf— even if our voice does not join in the cry — and beseech Him to oome.
And I believe that a " Day of the Lord," dreadful and radiant with the brightnes^s
of destructive power, which is also constructive and merciful love, is hanging over
much of the world, and not a little of the Church, at this moment. {A. Maclaren, D.D.)
Sight of Christ as Judge : — Mr. G was mayor of the town of Maidenhead not
many years after the late Rev. J. Cooke settled in it. One Sabbath evening he
attended the meeting-house, and heard Mr. Cooke preach. The test was, " Behold,
He cometh with clouds, and every eye shall see Him " (Rev. i. 7). His attention
was powerfully arrested: an arrow of conviction entered his heart; he became
speedily a changed man, and regularly attended the means of grace. He had been
a jovial companion, a good singer, and a most gay and cheerful member of the cor-
poration. The change was soon perceived. His brethren, at one of their social
parties, rallied him upon Methodism. But he stood firm by his principles, and
said, " Gentlemen, if you will listen patiently, I will tell you why I go to meeting,
and do not attend your card-table. I went one Sunday evening to hear Mr. Cooke.
He took for his text, • Behold, He cometh with clouds, and every eye shall see
Him.' Your eye shall see Him I " In short, he gave them so faithful and powerful
an epitome of the sermon, and applied it so closely to them individually, marking
the words, •♦ every eye shall see Him," with such emphasis, and pointing to them,
said, •* Your eye," and " your eye," that they were satisfied with his reasons for
going, and never again durst speak to him on the subject. {Biblical Museum.)
Science points to the end of the world: — Is it not probable, it may be asked, that the
time will come when the globe itself will come to an end ? And if it be so, can
science detect the provision that is possibly made for this consummation of all
things ? We have seen that the atmosphere has for long been undergoing a change ;
that at a very early period it was charged with carbonic acid, the carbon of which
now forms part of animal and vegetable structures. We saw, also, that at first it
contained no ammonia ; but since vegetation and decomposition began, the nitrogen
that existed in the nitrates of the earth, and some of the nitrogen of the atmosphere,
have been gradually entering into new combinations, and forming ammonia ; and
the quantity of ammonia, a substance at first non-existent, has gradually increased,
and as it is volatile, the atmosphere now always contains some of it. The quantity
has now become so great in it that it can always be detected by chemical analysis.
There is an evident tendency of it to increase in the atmosphere. Now supposing
it to go on increasing up to a certain point, it forms with air a mixture that, upon
the application of fire, is violently explosive. An atmosphere charged with ammonia
is liable to explode whenever a flash of lightning passes through it. And such an
explosion would doubtless destroy, perhaps without leaving traces of, the present
order of things. {Dr, Kemp.)
Ver. 28. That munmwr Is near. — A »ign of the eternal tummer approaching:^
When Dr. Bees preaohed last in North Wales a friend said to him— one of those
544 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap. xin.
who are alwaya reminding people that they are getting old — " You are whitening
fast, Dr. Rees." The old gentleman did not say anything then ; but when he got
to the pulpit he referred to it, and said, " There is a wee white flower that comes
up through the earth at this season of the year — sometimes it comes up through
the snow and frost ; but we are all glad to see the snowdrop, because it proclaims
that the winter is over and that the summer is at hand. A friend reminded me last
night that I was whitening fast. But heed not that, brother ; it is to me a proof
that my winter will soon be over, that I shall have done presently with the cold
east winds and the frosts of earth, and that my summer — my eternal summer — is
at hand." {Heber Evans,)
Ver. 81. But My words shall not pass away. — The perpetuity of ChrisV* words : —
Contrast the apparent transitoriness of "words" with the solid earth and tbe
" eternal heavens." Yet when these shall have faded away the words of Christ will
still endure. I. In a literal sense tbe text reminds us that the words which Jesus
spake while on earth are permanently associated with our whole life. II. At.t. our
litbrature is enriched by these words. III. That which is spiritual must
ALWAYS BE MORB PERUANENT THAN THB MATERIAL. IV. YeT THE MATERIAL PREPARES
THB WAY roB THB SPmiTUAL APPLICATION. 1. A lessoD of wamiug, since we are in
danger of attaching too much importance to the form, and too little to the truth,
which the form embodies. 2. A lesson of encouragement ; opinions may change
and interpretations differ ; but the truth remains always the same. (F. Wagstaff^
Ver. 88, S3. But of tbat day and tliat hour knoweth no man. — The day and the
hour: — I. The practxoal importance or congbalino thb day and houb when
THB SoH 07 Man shall comb from thb knowlbdgb of THB Church and of all
MAinoND. 1. Were the day and the hour of the Saviour's advent specifically and
unmistakably stated, it would contradict constantly those passages scattered
throughout the whole Word of God which say He shall come as a thief in the
night, <&o. After the day of Pentecost the apostles received information upon this
subject which they did not previously possess. 2. It would be altogether morally
without practical good results, and incompatible with other portions of Scripture,
if God were to tell us the precise day and the hour. What would be the practical
use of telling us either? 3. Were that day made known to us, it would be
gratifying a very worthless curiosity. But if there be one feature in this book
more striking than another it is its utter refusal to gratify the curiosity of man.
4. Suppose tiiat this day and hour had been made known, there is no proof that it
would be beUeved by the unconverted masses of mankind. If the unconverted and
unsanctified multitude believed it, it would do incalculable mischief. II. On thb
OTHEB hand, it IS MOST PBOFITABLB AND MOST IMPROVINO THAT WE SHOULD STUDY
THB PBBDXCTED SIGNS ; usy, our Lord condemned the men of His day, because,
while they could predict wet or fine weather, from the sky at evening and at mom,
they were not acquainted with the moral signs of the age in which they lived. The
Scripture in every page is most explicit in giving us tokens and signs by which we
are to infer either that tiie tmie is near, or that it is remote. This leads me to the
great sign given here, instead of the day and the hour — the sigpi 9t Noah. 1.
Notice that there is here a distinct recognition of Noah as a historic person, of the
flood as a literal fact. 2. Notice here also that human nature is substantially the same
in the days of Napoleon and of Queen Victoria, that it was in the days of Noah and the
patriarchs before the flood. The antediluvians, or those that were in the days of
Noah, when the flood came, were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in
marriage. This is not stated as a sin. In the gospel, where our Lord represents
the blessings that He purchased under a feast, those that were invited refused ;
but the ground they assigned was not any one sinful act. Where then was the
sin of the antediluvians T " So shall it be when the Son of Man cometh." This
is not a mere history ; but also a solemn prophecy. Just as the ark was the only
safety in the days of Noi^, so the only safety for us this very day is Christ, the
living, the glorious, the indestructible ark. Are you trusting to Uiis ark ? Are
you cleaving to this Saviour? Now there is salvation for the worst and the
guiltiest ; but at that day, when grace shall depart like a vision, when the last fire
shall cover the round globe with its piercing and its searching flames, not one cry
will be heard, not one appeal for mercy wul be regarded, not one sin will be for-
giyen. The very glory of the gospel is its simplicity : " Look and live ; " ** BeUeve
tad tikoa ihalt be saved. " (/. Gumming, DJ>.) Uncertainty a$tothe time demand*
CHAP. XII1.J ST. MARK, 046
eomtant watehfulnett : — ^The fact that we cannot know beforehand the time of Christ's
coming, does not relieve us of the duty of being on the watch for it. It is because
we do not know the time, that we must watch for the time. If a man wants to
Bee the meteors which flash across the sky in the nights of August and November,
he must be all the more watchful because he cannot know beforehand when they
are coming. The lookout on the ocean steamer's mast-head must be none the less
watchful against icebergs, or headlands, or passing vessels, because be cannot
know when they are to show themselves ; and the denser the fog, the keener his watch
must be. The time of Christ's second coming is concealed from us. The fact of
that coming is foretold to us. The duty of hving not only in expectancy of this
event, but in prayerful watchfulnesi for it, is as plainly and as positively enjoined
npon us, as is the requirement of any one of the ten commandments. The solemn
day approaching : — When it comes we know not. We know simply this — it is a
fact^in God's government. Slowly and steadily it is approaching. It encamps
every night neares to the race — to us — to me. We have no human almanacs thai
can foretell its coming. That it will come seems one of the fundamental thoughts
of our mind, admitted everywhere and always. The Egyptians bore decided
witness, in their books of the dead, to the coming of that day. Let not that day
come upon you sleeping, said Jesus. Duty is ours — that day is God's. {H. W.
Beeeher.) The uncertainty of the Day of Judgment considered and improved : —
First, our Saviour here declares the uncertainty of the time as to us and all creatures,
when the general judgment shall be. And to express this the more emphatically. He
tells us — 1. That God only knows it. He excludes from the knowledge of it, those
who were most likely to know it, if God had not absolutely reserved it to Himself.
2. That ihe consideration of the uncertainty of the time should make us
very careful to be always prepared for it. First, a general caution, ** Take ye
heed." From whence I shall observe, by the way, the great goodness of God to us.
and His singular care of us. God hath acquainted us with whatever is necessary
to direct and excite us to our duty ; but He hath purposely concealed from us those
things which might tend to make us slothful and careless, negligent and remiss in
it. Besides this, it is always useful to the world to be kept in awe by the continual
danger and terror of an approaching judgment. And it was no inconvenience at
all that the apostles and first Christians had this apprehension of the nearness of
that time ; for no consideration could be more forcible to keep them steadfast in
their profession, and to fortify them against sufferings. 1. We should resolve
without delay, to put ourselves into that state and condition, in which we may not
be afraid judgment should find us. In the secure and negligent posture that most
men live, even the better sort of men, if judgment should overtake them, how few
could be saved 1 So that our first care must be to get out of this dangerous state
of sin and insecurity, " to break off pur sins by repentance," that we may be
capable of the mercy of God, and at peace with Him, before He comes to execute
judgment upon the world. 2. After this great work of repentance is over, we
should be very careful how we contract any new guilt, by returning to our former
sins, or by the gross neglect of any part of our duty. 3. Let us neglect no
opportoni^ of doing good, but always be employing ourselves, either in acts of
religion and piety towards God, or of righteousness and charity towards men, or
in such acts as are subordinate to religion. 4. We should often review our lives
and call ourselves to a strict account of our actions, that, judging ourselves, we
may not be judged and condemned by the Lord. 5. Another part of our prepara-
tion for the coming of our Lord is a humble trust and confidence in the virtue of
His death and passion, as the only meritorious cause of the remission of our sins,
and the reward of eternal life. 6. And lastly, to awaken and maintain this
vigilancy and care, we should often represent to our minds the judgment of the
Great Day, which will certainly come though we know not the time of it. This
is the first direction our Saviour gives us ; continual vigilancy and watchfulness
over ourselves in general. The second direction is more particular, and that is,
prayer — " Take ye heed, watch and pray." And the practice of this duty of prayer
will be of great advantage to us upon these two accounts. It is very apt to awaken
and excite our care and diligence in the business of religion. Piayer, indeed,
Bupposeth that we stand in need of the Divine help ; but it implies, likewise, a
resolution on our part to do what we can for ourselves ; otherwise we ask in vain.
2. If we use our sincere endeavours for the effecting of what we pray for, prayer
is the most effectual means to engage the Divine blessing, and assistance to second
oar endeavours, and to secure them from miscarriage. I proceed to Ihe third and last
85
546 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [ohat. m
pari of the text, which is the reason which our Saviour here adds to enforce om
care and diligence in a matter of so great concernment, viz., the uncertainty, as
to us, of the particular time when this Day of Judgment will be : "Ye know not
when the time is." (J. Tillotson, D,D.) Ye know not when the time u ;— I. Th»
CONSIBEBATION OF THS UNOEBTAINTT OW LIFB, VBOM WHICH THB XXHOBTATIOM 18
BNFOBCBB — " Te know not when the time is." II. Thb exhobtatxom to oxboum-
BPBCTioN, vioiLANOB, AND PBAYBB — " Take yc heed, watch and pray." But we
proceed to consider what this watchfulness impli&s. 1. It implies spiritual life.
2. It implies a sense of danger. (JF. BuUevant.) Life's uncertainty improved : —
I. The fact of life's dncbbtainty. But before I attempt to fix your thoughts on
life's uncertainty, there are two other kindred facts which merit attention — the
certainty of death, and the nearness of it. We know not when the time is.
Death is an ambush. Hence the force of " Take ye heed, watch and pray." 1.
Men full of laudable, anxious, active strife of business, have in one moment been
called to their higher account, prepared or unprepared. 2. More fearful still is
the subject, when we consider that not only are men called away from the midst
of worldly business, but are taken in the very act of sin and rebellion against God.
" The third day Noah entered into the ark, the flood came and took them all away."
8. Let it, however, be clearly understood, that no degree of morality, faith, or
holiness, can wholly shield as from the stroke of sudden death. II. The plain
practical duty abisino out of it — ♦' Take ye heed," &c. A word in season.
Many are heedless and unprepared to die. *' Take ye heed," or you must needs
miss heaven. Would we prepare to die — I. Habitually believe in Christ. 2.
Habitually commune with God. 8. Habitually aim at Christian consistency.
Conclusion : 1. Address those who are obviously neither watching nor praying.
Are there in the church lukewarm professors ? 3. You who are in the way to a
bUssful immortality. {B. Carvosso."^ Preparation for death : — The true significance
of death lies not in its physical pam, in its breaking in upon the plans of life, but
in the fact that it brings men into final moral relations with God. Now let us
consider, as calm and prudent men, the full effect and the true character of
deferring the preparation for death until the dying hour. 1. To thus defer this
preparation is to deprive life itself of one of its chief steadying elements. 2.
Living without conscious preparation for death is a risk which neither prudence
nor self-respect should allow. A man guards himself with a wise providence of the
future. No man puts his affections as they are involved in the family to such
peril. He is perpetually forethinking ; working to provide against evils ; making
preparation to-day and this year for to-morrow and next year. 3. There is a view
which will have weight with men who are just, and who are honestly seeking to
guide themselves by principles of honour. It is the ignoring, the dishonouring of
God's love, His will and EUs commands, all one's life, and then at death, for fear,
or for the sake of interest, rushing into a settlement. A child is reprobate, and
breaks away from home, and squanders all he can get, and becomes a wreck and a
wretch, and apparently is to be disowned. He hears, at last, after years and yean
of dissipation, that his father is weakening and drawing near to death ; and ha
scents the opportunity, and rushes home, and professes repentance and reformation,
in order that his fattier may reconstruct his will, and leave him a part of his
estate. What would you think of a child that should do that f What would
you think of a child that should deliberately calculate upon it, and say in himself,
" The old man has oftentimes, with tears in his eyes, warned me against my gambling
companions ; but there is time enough yet. He is rich, and I want a part of his
money, and I know his heart, and I mean to come in for a share by and by. I am
going to have my pleasure ; I am going to eat, drink, and be merry ; I am going to
have my royal debauch with my companions ; and when I see the old man is about
pegging out I will go home and reform ; because I do not mean to lose that
proper^ ; I am going to enjoy myself as I please, and have that too " ? What
would you think of a child that should say that, and then keep his eye on his
father, and calculate his chances and run scuttling home just in time to get his
name put in the will right, in order that he might have the property 7 What
name is there in any language that is adequate to express your feelings, toward
such baseness as that f And yet, are there not in my hearing men that are living
precisely so with respect to their Father who is in heaven f 4. There are
pnidential considerations of a very solemn nature which one should employ.
Those who think that they shall prepare for death in the last hour of life, ought
Id ooniiilw loine of tiaeir ehanoes. As a matter of fact, more than half that die in
€HAP. xiu.] ST, MARK, 64T
this world die witboat consciousness. Not alone of those that die by accident, by
sadden stroke, but of those that die by disease, more than one half die under a
cloud, so that they have no use of their reason. {H. W. Beecher.) Autumnal
life : — It is always a sad day in autumn to me, when I see the change that comes
over nature. Along in August, the birds are all still, and you would think that
there were not any left ; but if you go out into the fields you find them feeding in the
trees, and hedges, and everywhere. By and by September comes, and they begin to
gather together in groups ; and anybody that knows what it means knows that they are
getting ready to go. And then comes the later days of October — the sad, the
sweet, the melancholy, the deep days of October. And the birds are less and less.
And in November, high up, you see the sky streaked with waterfowl going
southward ; and strange noises in the night, of these pilgrims of the sky, they
shall hear whose ears are attuned to natural history. Birds in flocks, one after
another, wing their way to the south. Summer is gone ; and I am left behind ;
but they are happy. And I think I can hear them singing in all those States clear
down to the Gulf. They have found where the sun is never cold. With us are
frosts, but not with the bird that has migrated. Oh, mother 1 my heart breaks with
your heart when your cradle is empty ; but shall I call back the child ? Nay ; sooner
pluck a star out of heaven than call back that child to this wintry blast. Shall I call
back your young and dear and blooming friend? Nay. You are left in some bitter-
ness for a time ; but make not a man out of angel again. Let him rejoice. {Ihid.)
Watch and pray : — Two duties. — I. The activity of the eye earthward. II. The
EMOTION of the hbabt Godward. Watchfulness is like the hands of the clock that
point ; prayer is the weight that keeps the machinery in motion. {T. J. Judkin.)
A believer's watchfulness like tliat of a soldier : — A sentinel posted on the walls,
when he discerns a hostile party advancing, does not attempt to make head
against them himself, but informs his commanding officer of the enemy's approach,
and leaves him to take the proper measures against the foe. So the Christian does
not attempt to fight temptation in his own strength; his watchfulness lies in
observing its approach, and in telling God of it by prayer. {W. Mason,) Watch-
ing and praying : — He that prays and watcheth not, is like him that sows a field
with precious seed, but leaves the gate open for hogs to come and root it up ; or him
that takes great pains to get money, but no care to lay it up safely when he hath it.
{W. Gumall.) Watch: — "Wickedness," says Sir Philip Sidney, "is like a
bottomless pit, into which it is easier for a man to prevent himself falling than,
having fallen, to preserve himself from falling infinitely." The watchfulness of
^ayer : — " I often recall," says an old sailor, " my first night at sea. A storm had
come up, and we had put back under a point of land which broke the wind a little,
but still the sea had a rake on us, and we were in danger of drifting. I was on the
anchor watch, and it was my duty to give warning in case the ship should drag her
anchor. It was a long night to me. I was very anxious whether I should know if
the ship really did drift. How could I tell ? I found that, going forward and
placing my hand on the chain, I could teU by the feeling of it whether the anchor
was dragging or not ; and how often that night I went forward and placed my hand
on that chain ! And very often since then I have wondered whether I am drifting
away from God, and then I go away and pray. Sometimes during that long stormy
night I would be startled by a rumbling sound, and I would put my hand on the
chain, and find it was not the anchor dragging, but only the chain grating against
the rocks on the bottom. The anchor was still firm. And sometimes now, in
temptation and trial, I become afraid, and upon praying I find that away down deep
in my heart I do love God, and my hope is in His salvation. And I want just to
say a word to my fellow- Christians : Keep an anchor watch, lest before you are
aware you may be upon the rocks." (Anon.)
Vers. 34-36. And to every man his work, and commanded the porter to watch.—
Christian watchfulness : — I. A certain event referred to. That He should go
away was necessary. 1. It was impossible that His state of humiliation should be
continued. 2. The work He had to do in heaven required His presence there.
3. His removal was necessary in order that the Holy Spirit might be bestowed.
n. A BE8POMSIBLE TRUST couinTTED. 1. What He left in charge of His servants
was His house. The church is frequently set forth under this designation.
2. Those whom He left behind were invested with the powers necessary for the
transaction of affairs during His absence. 3. While peculiar authority was grante«l
to some, none of the servants were permitted to remain idle. HI. An imfobtan*
548 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chaf. xm.
Dursr XNJoiNED. 1. To no subject is our attention more frequently directed
than that of watchfuhiess. 2. The consideration by which it is enforced. It is the
uncertainty as to when the master of the house might return ; whether at even, or
at midnight, or at the cock-crowing, or in the morning. 3. Whatever limits may
belong to other obligations, this is universal in its claims. " And what I say unto
you, I say unto all, watch." {Expository Outlines.) Christ's second coming: —
I. The Chuech' 8 authority. *• He gave authority to His servants." The more we
serve the more authority is given. For, what is authority ? Not position, not
office ; but a certain moral power : the power of truth, the power of affections, the
power of virtue over vice, the power of faith over sight. There are degrees of
authority in the Church. There is authority which belongs to the Church collectively,
essential for her wholesome discipline. But we have to do only with what is
personal to ourselves. It is your authority to go to every single man under heaven
and tell the glorious things of the gospel. It is your authority to go to the throne
of God Himself. II. The work. Authority is never given in the Church of Christ
for any other end but work. The work is specific, ** to every man his work." Each
Christian should pray till he finds out the work God has assigned him in this
present life. There is work active and passive in the Master's house ; the childlike
reception of the grace of God, to evangelise mankind. III. Watching. There are
two ways of watching. There is a watching against a thing we fear ; and or a thing
we love. Watch for the second advent, and you will be vigilant against sloth and
sin. Will you not keep every trespasser out of the Master's house, when yon
feel that that Master Himself stands almost at the door ? He is worth watching for.
(J. Vaughan^ M.A. ) Watching for the Master : — In all, therefore, you do, brethren,
and in all you suffer, you are to be in the spirit of a man who, expecting a dear friend,
has taken his stand at the gate, to meet him when he arrives, — a porter. Oh, it is sucb
a pleasant thing to watch, — pleasant to go up on the high door of prophecy, and turn
the telescope of inspiration down the road where He will come : pleasant, in every
trouble to feel, — in a moment He may come, and cut this trouble very short:
pleasant, in every fear, however deep, to think Christ's coming may be nearer than
we might fear : pleasant, to feel,— when the world knocks at your door, to say, " I
am keeping place for Jesus, and I cannot let you in : " pleasant, in some work to
have conscience say, " I think my dear Master would like to find me here : "
pleasant when all is happy, to double the happiness with the thought, ♦* And He,
too, will soon be here : " and pleasant to wake up every morning and think,
"What can I do to-day to prepare the way for my Saviour." {Ibid.) The
Master Cometh:— 1. The house. II. The householder. III. The journey. IV.
The servants. V. The charge. VI. The individual work. VII. The command
TO THE porter. 1. Watch against thieves and robbers. 2. Watch for the Master.
{H. Bonar, D.D.) Our absent Lord : — The parable in Mark xiii. 34-36 cannot
be discharged of its meaning by a reference to the ordinary risks of human
mortality. Its theme is not man's dying, but Christ's coming. I. The Son of
MAN is represented AS A HOUSEHOLDER AWAY ON A JOURNEY fver. 34). 1. It is not
fair to look upon Jesus as a mer^ absentee lord of the soil. For He made this
world; He has suffered wonderfully to save souls; and He owns what He has
purchased. 2. It must be remembered that He went away for a most graciciw
purpose. He would send the Comforter (John xvi. 7). He has gone to prepare
a "place" for those whom He died to redeem (John xiv. 2, 3). 3. It is better
to urge His coming back with eargerness of prayer. There is fitness in (HI
passionate words of Richard Baxter : " Haste, 0 my Saviour, the time of Thy
return : send forth Thy angels, let the last trumpet sound 1 Delay not, lest the
living give up hope. Oh, hasten that great resurrection day when the seed Thou
sowedst corruptible shall come forth incorruptible, and the graves that retain bat
dust shall return their glorious ones, Thy destined bride ! " II. To every onb
"OUR ABSENT LoRD *' HAS GIVEN HIS OWN WORK TO DO (vcr. 35.) 1. There is a
work to be wrought on ourselves. Our bodies are to be exercised and skilled for
service (Rom. xii. 1). Our minds are to be developed and embellished for God's
praise. One of our Lord's parables spoken on this very occasion has actually
added to our language the new word " talents," as signifying intellectual gifts
(Matt. XXV. 16). Our souls are to be sanctified wholly (1 Thess. v. 23). 2. There
is also a work to be wrought upon others and for others. The poor are to be
succoured, the weak to be strengthened, the ignorant to be taught, the sorrowfnl
to be comforted. 3. There is another work to be wrought for God's gloiy. " Man'i
ehief end is to glorify God and to enjoy Him for ever." Our whole life is to bt
xm.] ST. MARK. 641
oonBeorated to this, even down to the particulars of eating and drinking
(1 Cor. X. 31). III. *• Our absent Lord " is surely oomino back again to thw
woBLD (ver. 26). 1. He predicted His Beoond advent (John xiv. 28). The language
Jesus used in this remembered declaration is not at all figurative; it all goes
together as a statement of fact. He said, literally, He would sand the Comforter, and
the Holy Spirit came in person on the Day of Pentecost. And just as literally did He
say He would Himself return at the appointed time. 2. He asseverated the certainty
and solemnity of His own promise, as if He foresaw some would deny or doul t it (ver.
31). This was endorsing the covenant engagement by a new oath ; " because He could
swear by no greater, He sware by Himself." 3. He left behind Him vivid descrip
tions of the momentous day on which He should arrive (vers. 24-26). In these,
however, He does little more than repeat the vigorous language of the Old Testa-
ment prophet (Dan. vii. 9-14). 4. He even sent back word from heaven by an
angel (Acts i. 11). It should be " this same Jesus " who should come back, and
He should come " in like manner " as they had seen Him depart. IV. Thk
XZAOT HOUR IN WHICH " OUR ABSENT LORD " WILL ARRFTB IS NOT ANNOUNCED (Matt.
xxiv. 42). 1. Jesus asserted that He did not know it Himself (ver. 32). The
disciples once asked Him about this (Matt. xxiv. 3). He told them that God the
Father had kept this one secret in His own solemn reserve (Acts i. 6, 7). 2. But
our Saviom: declares that His coming might be expected at any moment, morning or
midnight, evening or cock-crowing (ver. 35). It would assuredly be sudden. The
figure is employed more than once in the Scriptures of ♦• a thief in the night '*
(2 Pet. iiL 10). Peter in his Epistle only quotes our Lord's own language (Luke xii.
39, 40). 3. Moreover, Christ told His disciples that there would be tokens of the
nearness of this great day, by which it might be recognized when it should be close
at hand (vers. 28, 29). These signs would be as clearly discerned as shoots on fig-
trees in the opening summer. He mentioned some of them explicitly (Luke xxi.
25-28). We may admit that " wars and rumours of wars," earthquakes, famines,
falling stars, and pestilences (Matt. xxiv. 6-8J, together with " great signs in heaven
and earth," are alarming disclosures ; but will any one doubt that such phenomena
are conspicuous at least ? (Luke xvii. 24). 4. So Jesus insisted that men were
bound to be wise in noting these signs, and be ready (Luke xii, 64-56). V. Th«
GREATEST PERIL IS THAT, WHEN " OUR ABSENT LoRD " COMBS, MEN WILL BB TASXM
UNAWARES (ver. 36). 1. The instinctive tendency of the human heart is to procras-
tinate in the performance of religious work. 2. Time glides mysteriously on with
no reference to daring delay. The grave, like the horseleach's daughter, cries •• Give "
(Prov. XXX. 15, 16), and damnation slumbereth not (2 Peter ii. 3), but men sleep
clear up to the edge of divine judgment. They did in Noah's time, and in Lot's,
when a less catastrophe was at hand ; and so it will be when the Son of Man is
revealed (Luke xviii. 26-30). 3. Christians ought to hold in memory the repeated
admonitions they have received. Walter Scott wrote on his dial-plate the two Greek
words which mean •' the night cometh," so that he might keep eternity in mind
whenever he saw the hours of time flitting by. Evidently the Apostle Paul feels
that he has the right to press peculiarly pertinent and solemn appeals upon those
who had enjoyed Sie advantage of such long instruction (1 Thess. v. 1-7). 4. There
is no second chance offered after the first is lost. When Christ comes, foolish
virgins will have no time to run for oQ to pour into their lightless lamps. A
forfeited life cannot be allowed any opportunity for retrieval. Where the tree falls.
north or south, there it must lie, whether the full fruit has been ripened upon its
branches or not (Ecol. xi. 3). VI. The final counsel left behind Him by " our
ABSENT Lord " is for all to watch (ver. 37). 1. Christ's coming would seem to
be the highest anticipation for true believers. When He appears, saints will appear
with Him in glory (Col. iii. 4). This is the " blessed hope " of the Church along the
ages (Titus ii. 13). 2. It might clear an inquirer's experience to think of this
coming of Jesus. Does one love to " watch " for Him f In the autobiography of
Frances Ridley Havergal we are told of the years during which she sought sadly for
peace at the cross. At last one of her teachers put this question to her : •* Why
cannot you trust yourself to your Saviour at once f Supposing that now, at this
moment, Christ were to come in the clouds of heaven, and take up His redeemed,
could you not trust Him r Would not His call. His promise, be enough for you ?
Could you not commit your soul to Him» to your Saviour, Jesus f " This lifted the
cloud ; she tells the story herself: *> Then came a flash of hope across me, which
made me feel literally breathless. I remember how my heart beat. ' I could
sorely,' was my response ; and I left her suddenly and ran away upstairs to think it
iM THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. xin.
•at. I flnng myself on my knees in my room, and strove to realize the sadden
hope. I was very happy at last. I coidd commit my soul to Jesus. I did not, and
need not, fear His coming. I could trust Him with my all for eternity. It was so
atterly new to have any bright thoughts about religion that I could hardly believe
it could be so, that I had really gained such a step. Then and there, I committed
my soul to the Saviour, I do not mean to say without any trembling or fear, but I
did — and earth and heaven seemed bright from that moment — I did trust the Lord
Jesus." (C. S. Robinson, D.D.) Work for God:— The sentence which mast
have seemed to Adam a curse, " In the sweat of thy brow shalt thou eat bread,"
has been turned by God into a blessing. The elements of Adam's doom are the
materials of himian happiness. Heaven is made out of the ruins of the fall.
What a world this would be without work 1 What a weariness 1 What a hot-bed of
every bad passion 1 What a torment 1 I. Evbb-x LrviNG creature has its own pbopbb
woBK. It matches with each man's natural endowment and his spiritual attain-
ment. It is what suits him : neitiier too little nor too much. Enough to engage,
and occupy, and draw out aU his powers ; and yet not so much as to injure or
distress them. Take pains to ascertain whether the work you are engaged in is
really yours — the work God would have you to do. To settle that satisfactorily, the
following conditions must be fulfilled: 1. There must be the vocation of the heart
— conscience and spiritual conviction telling you, after prayer and thought, that yon
are called to it. 2. The vocation of circumstances — ^your position and means being
suited, and your education and habit of mind accommodated to it. 3. The voca-
tion of the Church — the advice and judgment of pious friends who are in a position
to ofier an unprejudiced opinion on the subject. If these three things unite, you
may be sure that, though you are directed to it by human agencies, the work is
really allotted to you by God. II. You abe besponsible only fob doing the wobe,
NOT FOB the BE8ULT8. The work is yours, but the issue is God's. Leave that to
Him. Do you work with faith — for faith is confidence, and confidence is calmness,
and calmness is power, and power is success, and success is God's glory. (J.
Vaughan, M.A.) Wakeful work : — Unless we work, we shall not keep spiritually
awake and lively : unless we are awake, we shall not work. The last thing that
would please a master would be the idle curiosity which would make the servants
neglect their work to stand outside the door gazing to catch a glimpse of his return.
What the Master desires is wakeful work. He desires — I. Wobk. 1. Work of
mercy. 2. Work of uprightness. 3. Work of struggling against evil within us.
4. Work of witnessing for Christ. 6. Work of helping others in various ways.
6. Work of comforting the sad, of supporting the weak. 7. Work of reclaiming the
erring. 8. Work of saving the lost. U. He wants this to be done wakefullt ;
in that fresh and earnest way which men take (1) when their faculties are on the
alert ; (2) when they are on tiie watch for opportunities of doing good, and against
seductions to neglect it ; (3) when they are wakeful enough to see a living Saviour,
and feel His inspiration ; (4) when they watch lest they lose the things they have
wrought ; (5) when they are awake to the immense needs and the awful dangers of
their fellow men ; (6) when they are awake to the littleness of time and the great-
ness of eternity — the nearness and sufficiency of the Spirit's help, and the certainty
and value of the Saviour's reward. When there is this working and this watching
mutually aiding each other, then the desire of the Master is fulfilled, and whenever
He appears we are ready to receive Him with exceeding joy. {R. Glover.) Work
and tcatching: — I. The wobk of the servants. 1. Work is the common duty of all
in Christ's house. The calm stars are in ceaseless motion, and every leaf is a world,
with its busy inhabitants and the sap coursing through its veins as the life-blood
through our own. It would be strange then if the Christian Church, which was in-
tended to be the beating heart to all this world's activity, were exempted from a law
BO universal. Such a thing would be against our highest nature. Work is not only
a duty, but a blessing. Every right deed is a step upward. Instead of praying that
God would grant us less work, our request should be that he would give us a greater
heart and growing strength to meet all its claims. 2. This work is varied to different
individuals. In one respect there is something common in the work of all, as there
is a conunon salvation — to believe in Christ and to grow in grace ; but even here
there may be a variety in the form. There is a different colour of beauty in different
stones that are all of them precious. One man may be burnishing to the sparkle of
tiiie diamond, while another is deepening to the glow of the ruby; and each is
equally useful and necessary. The corner-stone and the cope-stone have both their
due place in the palace-house of Christ. To see how this may be, is to perceive that an
m.] Sr. MARK, 661
end ean be pat to all jealonsies and heart-bomings, and may help us even now to
take oar position calmly and onenviously, working in onr departaient, assured that
oar labour will be found to contribute to tiie full proportion of the whole. 3. Each
individual has means for ascertaining his own work. Not a special revelation, or
an irresistible impression. Still Christ does guide men into their sphere of work by
the finger of His providence and by the enlightenment of His Word in the hand of
His Spirit. If it be thought it would be simpler and more satisfactory to have our
place directly pointed out to us, let us remember the trouble and care necessary to
ascertain it are part of our training. There are these rules to guide us. 1. Our
aptitudes. 2. Our opportunities. 3. The opinion of our fellow-men when fairly
expressed. II. The watch of the porter. The porter is that one of the servants
whose station is at the door to look out for those who approach, and open to them
if they have right to enter. It would be wrong, however, to suppose that the body
of the servants are exempted from watching, while one takes the duty for them
(ver. 37). In saying the workmen are many and the watchman one, our Lord indi-
cated that, while the mode of labour in the house may vary, the duty of watchfulness
is common to all who are in it. The porter must stand at the door of every heart,
while that heart pursues its work. What, then, is this watching f It is to do all
our work with the tkought of Christ's eye measuring it, as of a friend who is ever
present to our soul, gone from us in outward form, sure to return, and meanwhile
near in spirit; to subject our plans and acts to His approval, asking ourselves at
every step how this would please Him, shrinking from what would cloud His face,
rejoicing with great joy in all that would meet His smile. This is a more difficult
task than to have our hands busy with the work of the house. But, if attended to,
it will bring its proportionate benefit. 1. It will keep as wakeful. 2. It will
preserve purity. 3. It will maintain the soul in calmness. 4. It will rise increas-
ingly to the fervour of prayer — that prayer which is the strength of the soul and the
life of all work. III. The bearing of these two duties upon each other.
1. Work cannot be rightly performed without watching ; for then it would be (1)
blind and without a purpose ; (2) discouraging and tedious ; (3) formal and dead.
2. Watching will not suffice without work ; or it would be (1) solitary ; (2) subject to
many temptations, such as empty speculations, vanity, pride ; (3) unready for Christ.
The solitary watcher can have no works of faith nor labours of love to present, no
saved souls to offer for the Redeemer's crown, and no crown of righteousness to
receive from Him. He is saved, but alone, as on a board or a broken piece of the
shh) ; not as they who have many voices of blessing around, and many welcomes
berore, and to whom an entrance is ministered abundantly into the kingdom of
heaven. Happy is the man who can combine these two duties in perfect harmony- -
who has Stephen's life of labour and Stephen's vision in the end. In every soul there
should be the sisters of Bethany, active effort and quiet thought, and both, agreeing
in mutuahlove and help. {John Ker^ D.D.) The discipline of work : — Consider
what an amount of drudgery must be performed — how much humdrum and prosaic
labour goes to any work of the least value. There are so many layers of mere white
lime in every shell to that inner one so beautifully tinted. Let not the shell-fish
think to build his house of that alone ; and pray what are its tints to him ? Is it
not his smooth close-fitting shirt merely, whose tints are not to him, being in the
dark, but only when he is gone or dead, and his shell is heaved up to light, a wreck
apon the beach, do they appear. With him, too, it is a song of the shirt — " Work
— work — work ! " And the work is not merely a policy in the gross sense, but, in
the higher sense, a discipline. If it is surely the means to the highest end we
know, can any work be humble or disgusting ? Will it not rather be elevating, as »
ladder, the means by which we are translated ? ^horeau.) ChrisVs service delight-
ful : — A beautiful incident in reference to Mr. Townsend is mentioned in the life of
John Campbell. *' Finding him on Tuesday morning, shortly before his last illness,
leaning on the balustrade of the staircase that led to the committee-room of the Tract
Society, and scarcely able to breathe, I remarked, * Mr. Townsend, is this you? Why
should you come in this state of body to our meetings ? You have now attended them
for a long time, and you should leave the work to younger men.' The reply of Mr.
Townsend was worthy of his character. Looking at his friend with a countenance
brightened and elevated by the thoughts that were struggling for utterance, his
words were : * Oh I Johnny, Johnny, man, it is hard to give ap working in tht
service of such a Master 1 ' " {Biblical Treasury.)
Vers. 86, 86. Watch ye, therefore. — Watchfulness, a preparation for the coming »;
MS THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. xm.
Christ. L What wb abe to understand by the cobono of the mastbb of ihb
HOUSE. By ** the master of the house " here is meant Christ, as it is also in Luke
xiii. 26. The world in general, and the visible Church in particular, and especially
the spiritual part of it, are His house (Eph. i. 20-23 ; Heb. iii. 3-6). His coming
is represented in Scripture in different lights and for different purposes. In this
chapter of Mark, and in the twenty-fourth chapter of Matthew, and the twenty-
first of Luke, He is represented as coming to judge and punish the Jewish nation.
His visible Church of old, or His house, for rejecting Him (Deut. xviii. 19 ; comp.
with Acts iii. 23 ; Heb. xii. 16). In other places He is represented as coming to
judge all mankind at tiie last day (vers. 24-26 ; 2 Peter iii. 3-12). He is said to
come when He visits in a peculiar way, whether in judgment or mercy, any nation,
or Church, or any particular member of it (Eev. ii. 5-16 ; iii. 3). He comes to each
of us at death (Rev. i. 18 ; ii. 25 ; iii. 11). It is this last coming of Christ to which
I would especially call your attention. For it is of the greatest importance to ns»
since— 1. It will separate us from all below, from our occupations, enjoyments,
possessions, families, relations, and friends, and even from our own bodies. 2. It
will finish our state of trial, and determine our condition for ever. 3. It will bring us
into the unseen and eternal world — a new, imtried, unknown state. 4. It will place
us in the presence of God, that we may receive His smile or frown, may enjoy the
effects of His favour and friendship, and conmiunications of bUss from Him ; or
feel the effects of His wrath, and find Him to be a consimiing fire. 6. It will make
a most astonishing change in our circumstances. 6. It often comes suddenly, and
gives no warning. H. What is that watchfulness which is recommended as a
PREPARATION FOR His COMING ? 1. It impHcs Spiritual life, in opposition to that
sleep of death which is mentioned (Eph. v. 14 ; ii. 1). 2. It implies a Hvely sense
of the reality and importance of spiritual and eternal things, such as persons
awake have of temporal things, the seeing, feeling, tasting them, so to speak, in
opposition to that insensibihty about them which is implied in spiritual sleep.
3. It implies a thoughtfulness, care, and concern about them, in opposition to that
thoughtlessness and unconcern about them, which is natural to us. 4. It implies a
sense of our danger from our enemies, visible and invisible — from the devil, the
world, persons, and things, the flesh, our own hearts ; and the standing on our
guard, in opposition to security of mind and foolish peace. 6. It implies activity,
and tiie vigorous exercise of every grace and virtue, as repentance^ faith, hope,
love, patience, (&c., in opposition to indolence and sloth. III. The vast import-
ance OF THIS watchfulness AS A PREPARATION FOB EVEBT DISPENSATION OF DlVUn
Providence, and especially for death. IV. How wb may be enabled to take
THIS ADVICE, AND TO " WATCH," AND WHAT ARE THE MEANS LEADING TO THAT END.
1. We must not presume on a long life, which is a most dangerous temptation, and
an abundant source of unwatchfulness ; but we must set before us, and have always
in view, the shortness and uncertainty of the present Ufe, and the certainty and
nearness of death. 2. We must remember that unless we were lords of our own
lives, and could appoint the time of our death, we can never be exempt from the
duty of a wakeful and active attention to our spiritual and eternal interests.
3. Those whose constitutions are peculiarly feeble, or whose circumstances or em-
ployments expose them to peculiar danger, or who are arrived at old age, should
consider themselves as being under special obligation to be watchful. 4. We must
be particularly on our guard against our own nature, and every person and thing
around us, which tends to lull us asleep, and against sensuahty and worldly cares
(Luke xxi. 34). 6. We must remember that ^onsands are found sleeping, even
thousands of professors, at the coming of their Lord. We must prav much — a
duty frequently inculcated in connection with watchfulness (yer. 83 ; Luke xxi. 36 ;
Eph. vi. 18). {J. Beruon.)
Ver. 37. And what I say unto yon, I say onto all, WaX^x.—WatchfulneM ;—
I. In WHAT DOES THIS WATCHFULNESS CONSIST ? Gousider it in reference to
the coming of Christ, and our solemn appearance before Him. In this respeot it
implies — 1. Thoughtfulness. Sinners are so intent upon buying and selling that
they have neither time nor inclination to think of anything else. It would be an
interruption and disturbance to them to be told of Christ's coming. Every incident
of life should bring it to remembrance. When we rise in the morning, it is natural
for us to think, *• Perhaps before night I may be at the end of my journey." 2. But
watchfulness also implies preparation. II. On what account this watohfulness
IS NS0S88ABY. 1. Bccausc many are ailed, and few are chosen. In every field there
m.] 8T, MARK, 553
are taxes as well as wheat ; in every church sinners and saints are blended together.
Watch, therefore, commiine with your own heart, and let your spirit make diligent
search. 2. Because so many about you are slothful. 3. Because you know not
the day, nor the hour, when the Son of Man cometh. Watch, therefore, while ye
have the light, lest darkness come upon you. 4. Because blessed are the dead
which die in the Lord. (S. Lavington.) Watchfulne$$ a safeguard : — A prompt
resistance of temptation, or a prompt repentance of sin as soon as committed, will
commonly extinguish the flames. A few buckets of water dashed on the fire as
soon as it kindled in De Eoven Street would have saved Chicago from ruin in 1871.
Had David exercised, at the right moment, one half of the grace which afterwards
permed the fifty-first Psalm, he would have saved his own character and Uriah's
life. The same rule of safety applies alike to sin and to fire ; the first spark must
be extinguished. When a man's whole soul is on fire, and the fabric of his cha-
racter has been consumed, it is too late for prevention to use its apparatus. The
ruined structure may be rebuilt by penitence and prayerful living, but many precious
things have perished, never to be restored. A dear friend in St. John writes me
that he shall rebuild his house, but the superb library, the pictures, and the keep-
sakes are gone for ever. The reformed inebriate may save the remnant of his life ;
but the best days of it are in ashes. Wherefore the Omniscient Master has uttered
the solemn admonition,"! say unto you all, watch I" {Dr. Cuyler.) Always
ready : — And the words which the German Commentator wrote over his study door
in Hanover, ** Always to be ready," become the motto of Christian lives. And
this, because the unusual is for ever happening. The providences of storm, acci-
dent, and disease ; of prosperity and loss, life and death — all or any one of them
may come in a day. The contingencies of life therefore must needs be reckoned on in
all our estimates. The route of our journeying was mapped out, the trunks were
packed and the day of our departure fixed ; but a child fell sick, or the mail that
morning brought a message of death, and our plans were changed. Or, weary with
long labour, and with wealth enough and well invested, we plan to spend the afternoon
of Ufe in ease and culture; but a panic comes, the bank fails, and debtors de-
fault, and unexpectedly we are pushed back again into the tread-mill of anxious toil.
Or, we counted on the schedule time and a close connection, but the train was
a half -hour late, and so we missed the boat and lost the hohday. {W. H. Davis.)
Watching in work : — For the smith's apron, the baker's cap, ^e labourer's blue
jeans, and the housewife's gown are all suitable material for ascension robes.
And he watches best for his Lord's coming who does the duty and the service
which lie next to him, with fidelity to men and love to God. Be that duty with
ploughs or day-books, in the office with its briefs, or in the school-room with its
classes, or busy with railroads and mines, with homes or farms, qo matter, if
the currents of purpose sweep heavenward and the graces of faiui and hope
and love are in the heart. As Israel Putnam left the plough in the furrow
and mounted a field-horse when the bugle sounded for the rallying at Cambridge ;
as the minute-men of Middlesex left workshop and farm at Paul Bevere's call
to Lexington, so the Master would have men work and watch. {Ibid.) Watch-
fulness:— I. What re meant bt spibittjal watchtulnebs 7 1. The mind must
be awake, the understanding, the rational powers. In order to this it is essential
that the powers should be exercised ; in other words, that the man should think.
To be mentally awake there must be life, spontaneous action, and coherence in the
thoughts. But this is not enough. The mind may be awake in one sense and yet
dreaming in another. Some men's minds operate too fast, and some too slow. Some
attempt to discover what has not been revealed of the future ; some think too late.
The mind must think seasonably. It must also act upon the proper objects, or it
might just as well not act at all. The powers of many are in active exercise, but
they are spent on trifles, on puzzles in theology. It thinks to no practical purpose.
2. The conscience as well as the intellect must be awake — the moral as well as the
pnrely intellectual faculties. There must be perception not only of what is true,
out of what is right. There must be liveliness of affection no less than of intellect.
We must not only feel bound, but feel disposed to do the will of God. When the
man thinks in earnest, seasonably of right objects and to practical purpose— when
he feels his obligations and his failures to discharge them-— when he earnestly
desirss, and sincerely loves, what he admits to be true and binding — ^then he may ha
said, in the highest spiritual sense, to be awake. H. Be on youb ouABn. The im-
portance of the charge committed to our care. Although essential, it is not enough
to be awake. The sentry is awake ; but he is more, he is upon his guard — his mind
554 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTBATOB, [chap, xm,
is full of his important trust. The sentry may look for danger only in one quarter,
and be overtaken by it from another direction. The danger is a complex one. He
may even find the enemy within the city while he looks without. The soul may
expose itself to ruin, not only by actually falling asleep, but by want of proper
caution when awake — by forgetting the danger or by underrating it— by admitting
its reality, but losing sight of its proximity, by looking for it from one quarter, but
forgetting that it may proceed from ethers, by looking at a distance when the enemy
is near at hand. If asked, " Who is the enemy against which spiritual vigilance is
called for," I reply, " His name is Legion." IH. How shall wb obey this duty f
It is natural to ask. Is tJiere not some safeguard, some tried means of spiritual
safety, that will at once secure our vigilance and make it efficacious f Yes, there ia
such a talisman, and its name is prayer, that settled bent of the affections which
makes actual devotion not a rare experience, but the normal condition of the soul.
(J. A. Alexander, DJ).) The nature and obligation of watchfulness ;— I. Wb must
WATCH THAT WE MAY PREVENT EVIL. 1. We must watch agaiust sin. 2. We must
guard against the world. 3. We must watch against the temptations of the devil.
II. We must WATCH TO DO GOOD. 1. We have to discharge all the duties we owe
to God, and our fellow Christians and neighbours ; to improve all our talents wisely
and faithfully. 2, We must watch to do all the good that God has commanded us.
3. We must watch to do good in its proper season. 4. We must watch to do good
in the appointed manner. Application : 1. How naturally prone we are to become
eeoure and careless. 2. That without watchfulness we shall become an easy prey to
our "Worst enemy. 3. Without this we can perform no duty that will be acceptable
to God. 4. Let us join prayer to watchfulness. (Sketches of Four Hundred Sermam,\
Helping others to watch : — I suppose you never heard of a man of the name oi
Thomas Bilby. He was the man who wrote that beautiful hymO'—
** Here we suffer grief and paiii,
Here we meet to part again ;
In heaven we part no more.
Oh 1 that will be joyful,
When we meet to part no moie t **
He wrote It for me. He wrote it for the first " children's service " I erer held. That
was forty-five years ago, since I held my first " children's service." I was at Chelsea.
I may be wrong, but I believe that was the first " children's service " ever held in
the Church of England. I had heard of " catechising " before, but I had not heard
of " children's services." Mr. Bilby wrote that hymn for me, for my first " children's
service." He was my infant- schoolmaster. Before then he had been a private in
the Coldstream Guards, but he became a religious man, was converted while in the
army. There were several religious men in the same regiment, and they were very
much observed by all the other soldiers, who watched them to see if they acted in
any wrong way, because they called themselves Christians. So they watched that
litUe society, these few religious men in the army, and if ever any one of the little
band should see another going to do anything wrong, get into a bad temper, use a
bad word, or going to fight with another soldier, he would go and whisper to that
man, " Watch I " No one else could hear it. Mr. BUby told me that that was the
rule among the Christians in the Coldstream Guards. (J. Vaughan, M.A.) Found
at our post ;— Oh I there are so manjr places where we must watch. There was a
city in Italy, I daresay you know of it, where, more than a thousand years ago, tiie
lava from Mount Vesuvius came all over the city, and covered it completely with
thick lava. I have been there, and seen it. A thousand years after that happened,
it was discovered, the city was excavated, and they dug out many of the things that
were therein. Amongst other things that were discovered, there was a man, a
soldier, a sentinel at his post. A thousand years before, that man had been killed
at his post by the lava, and there he was found, a sentinel still at his post 1 A lesson
to us. A great deal more than a thousand years after, he was found still at his
post. Let us be found at our post, wherever God has placed us, when He comes ;
when this world is covered, as it will be, with fire, may we be found faithful at our
posts ! (Ibid.) Danger varied and where least expected : — Oh 1 the danger may
come in a very different way from the way you expect. Did you ever read iBsop'i
Fables ? I will tell you one of a doe that was blind of one eye (have you read the
story ?) ; this doe was very cunning and clever, for she knew which eye was blind,
and down the path which the doe used to go she always kept her blind eye to the
zm.] ST. MARK. 561
Bea and her good eye to the land, because it was from the land the doe thought the
danger would come. So the doe always kept tJie blind eye to the sea and the good
eye to the land. One day a poacher, who knew all about that, got a boat and went
out in the boat on the sea, and from the boat he shot the poor doe ; and as the poor
doe was dying, she said, so the fable goes, •• Unhappy watcher 1 poor me 1 My
danger came from where I never expected it, and there was no danger where I did
expect it I " You may be like that poor blind doe : the danger comes where you
don't expect it 1 Do you know where to expect the danger ? " Watch 1 " I believe
a hare when it lies in the grass always tries to see out of its eyes backwards ; he
thinks the danger will come from behind, therefore he so fixes his eyes and puts his
ears back that he cannot see what is before ; he is always looking back. Tour
danger comes every way. Another thing I want you to watch against is wandering
thoughts. (Ibid.) Be watchful : — L Our conduct. IL Oub temper. III. Our
WORDS. IV. Our hkabt. (T. Heath.) No disappointment to watcJiers for Chritt : —
Most persons know what watching is. There are few who have not learned it by
experience. In nights of sickness or sleeplessness you have watched for the morning.
You have watched for the coming of expected friends. If they have been long
separated from you, if they have gone to a far country, how anxiously you await the
day of their return 1 It is a work of love to make your home bright and cheerful for
them, and sometimes you gather flowers that they may add their greeting to yours.
But, alas t how much of this earthly watching ends in disappointment 1 The ship
that is bringing the absent one home goes down, and the longed-for sound of the
familiar step and voice is waited for in vain. Ambitious souls lay plans and watch
for success. Oftener than otherwise those plans fail and come to nothing. There
has been more than one mother of a Sisera, whose son has gone out into the world
flushed with the expectation of victory in some field of noble strife. She has looked
through the lattice of her hmnble retirement for the return of his chariot, and for a
division of the honour gained, and kept on gazing and expecting, not knowing that
he has fallen a captive to temptation, and that his soul was pierced through, nailed
to the earth, and dead. . . . Most of our earthly watching is, after all, sad and
fruitless. It always is, provided we look only for what this world can bring and
preserve in our keeping. But blessed is he that watches for Jesus, and for His
coming. That coming will be indeed a blessed morning, the bringing in of an
eternal day, one through all of whose simny hours no more sickness or pain will be
felt. It will restore our absent ones to us, in a home better than any here, a man-
sion bright and fragrant with flowers fairer than any of earth. It will mark the
victorious return of every true soldier of the Gross, and his joyous coronation. It
will reveal the multiplied richness and value of every treasure given into the Lord's
hand. {E. E. Johnson, M.A.) The interval between Christ's going and coming : —
The first advent is the pivot on which all turns for the life below ; the second
advent will be the point round which all will be grouped for the life above. Faith
looks back at the Cross, and finds peace. Hope looks forward to the coronation,
and gathers strength. Meanwhile the Master's eye and heart are towards His
people, and He gives this motto. I. There are things which suooest watchful-
ness. 1. The tendency of the body to induce sleep. 2. The influence of the world
to beget sloth. 8. The design of the enemy to rob us while we slumber. II. Things
WHICH PROMOTE WATCHFULNESS. 1. Waiting. 2. Working. 3. Worshipping. III.
Things which repay watchfulness. 1. Many a glorious sight is missed by those
who will not watch. 2. The night watches give an insight into depths of space. 3.
The morning watches tell cA unthought glories in the Sun of Righteousness. 4. The
men who watch look out of self. IV. Things which encourage watchfulness. 1.
Time is too precious to waste in sleep. 2. A restless conscience. 3. A longing
desire. 4. A burning hope. {J. Richardson.) Watch — I. Against sin. Put on the
Christian soldier's armour to preserve you from the fiery darts of the wicked. Be in
earnest. You may be armed from head to foot, and yet false in your Christianity.
Some time since I remember walking across the tesselated pavement of a grand hall
in the mansion of one of England's noblest bom. In a niche I saw, by the light
which streamed through the painted glass of an oriel window, a statue. I thought
at first it was a man. I walk d across the pavement, and drew near to examine the
figure. He had upon his head a helmet of iron ; the vizor was drawn down over his
face, concealing the features ; he held on his arm a long shield that reached to the
very ground ; in his hand was grasped an iron sword, double edged ; he wore on his
boeom a strong breast-plate ; his limbs were covered with greaves and rings ; hii
feet were also shod with iron. I drew near, and began to examine this well-pro-
5M THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap, n?,
teoted figure. Presently, to my surprise, I saw something protruding ; it was a
piece of straw. On walking round, I saw some more straw sticking out through the
greaves of the armour. I soon found this was a man in armour — if you will, — but
stuffed with straw. And so, there may be many armed with the spiritual panoply —
ready to quote texts, apt with religious arguments, apparently respectable and sin-
cere,— whose religion is false, hollow, and worthless. Unless you are watching
against all inroads of the enemy, and pressing onward in the battle, you are none
of Christ's. II. Against temptation. Satan comes in many guises. Be on the look*
out. Don't let him deceive you with specious arguments and seductions. III. Fob
souu. Seek to turn others into the right way. Draw them by love and with care.
Do not let an opportunity slip, or you will regret it for ever. There was one whose
hand I held in mine ; with whom I trod — the narrow way that leadeth unto life t
No — the bread road that leadeth unto hell ; and he has departed, he has been
removed beyond the reach of my voice. I will tell yon how it was. Bred early to
a knowledge of God, I became a backslider, and I wandered with him for years in
the road that leads to hell. I left this country, and wandered over the shores of
Mexico, Texas, the West Indies, and through the Caribbean Seas ; and then returned
home, after having been a long while away. I went to where my friend lived, and
asked, " Where is so and so ? " The person hesitated. " Where is he ? Is he here,
or in another part of the country f " The person turned pale. I said, ** Tell me —
I must have it — where is he ? " " Well," was the reply, " he is dead." " Dead I "
I felt petrified. Then I demanded, " Where did he die ? " The person said, " He
went up to London ; there he ran a course of dissipation, and then he was suddenly
cut off by the hand of God." Now, do you know, I have never lost the remembrance
of that. Sometimes I close my door and go on my knees in prayer, and beseech
God to blot out the black mark. And sometimes, when I lie down to sleep, I see
staring at me through the gloom a pale face that I know — it is the face of that
damned man. Aye, methinks, if he might speak, he would ourse me ; he would
say, " God curse you 1 " "Why?" "Because you might have preached to me
Christ Jesus ; and now I am lost." Let not this reproach be cast upon you. IV. Fob
Christ. With affection. With patience. With perseverance. {H. O. Guinness.)
Watch for death ; — There is nothing more certain than death ; nothing more uncer-
tain than the time of dying. I will therefore be prepared for that at all times which
may come at any time, and must come at one time or another. I shall not hasten
iny death by being still ready, but sweeten it. It makes me not die the sooner, but
the better. {A. Warwick.) Watch : — Men hear these warnings as general dis-
courses, and let them pass so ; they apply them not ; or, if they do, it is readily to
3ome other person. But they are addressed to all, that each one may regulate him-
self by them : and so these Divine truths are like a well-drawn picture, which looki
particularly upon every one, amongst the great multitude, that looks ftt it. {Areh-
(mhop Leiyhton,)
CHAPTEB XIV.
Vkbs. 1-9. And ^)6ing In Bethany In the honse of Simon the Iwper,— Working
for Christ : — The home of Mary and Martha and Lazarus at Bethany, about two
miles from Jerusalem across the Mount of Olives, had been the scene of some of
the calmest and happiest moments of our Lord's life. We know something of the
sweetness of a quiet home after work and anxiety and worry— the labourer knows
it, the man of business knows it. We can therefore understand how restful to the
Lord Jesus, after those angry scenes that had been gathering around Him all day in
the temple, were the peaceful evenings of this week in the home at Bethany. There
are two things which we should notice about that home as we follow Jesus thither.
I. It was a homk of true family love, or Jesus would not have sought its shelter so
often as He did. What tender memories cluster round the childhood that has been
spent in such a home ! What a foretaste of the home beyond the grave, the haven
where we would be ! II. It was a houx where Jesus always was a welcoub ouest,
whither He was summoned in every trouble, where He was the Companion, the
Guide, and the familiar Friend. Are our homes like that ? Is He felt and acknow-
ledged to be the Master of the house? the unseen Guest at every meal? the unseen
Hearer of every conversation ? Is His blessing asked on every meal, on every under-
taking, on every event ? But now, as we stand with Jesus at Bethany, look what
ST. MARK. 657
one of the sisters is doing to Him as He sits at meat, either in her own house, or in
one of a similar type where she is hardly less at home. " Then took Mary a pound
of ointment of spikenard, very costly, and anointed the feet of Jesus." Beloved,
Is there not something like tiiat that we can do for Jesus in this Holy Week ? Is
ihere not something that we can bring and lay at His feet while we are watching with
him through the hours of His Passion ? Something that will be an earnest of our
love — some secret sin which it would really cost us something to give up ? And
cannot we find something, too, in our family life, or in the part we have to play in
it ? Is there not some new departure we might make for Jesus' sake, to make our
homes a little less unworthy to be His dwelling-place? (Henry S. Miles, M.A.)
Mary anointing Christ ;— What she is said to have done. This standard for our
service is, you perceive, at once stimulating and encouraging. It is stimulating, for
we are never to think tiiat we have done enough while there is anything more we
can do ; and it is encouraging, for it tells us that though we can do but little, that
little will be accepted, nay, considered by our gracious Master as enough. We are
not to condemn ourselves, or to repine, because we can do no more. But something
olse must be noticed here. I. Mabt did more than shb was awabe op doino. It is
an affecting circumstance, brethren, that wherever our Lord was, and however en-
gaged, His death seems to have been always in His mind. It was in His mind here
at a social meal, and what we should have called a happy one, with those He loved
the very best on earth around Him, and with the love of some of them towards Him
in the liveliest exercise. It is a cheering truth, brethren, that we can never measure
the use to which a gracious Saviour may turn our poor doings. As His designs in
our afflictions often lie deeper than we can penetrate, so do His designs in the ser-
vices to which He prompts us. We do this, and we do that, and we mourn that it
is so little, and that so little good to our fellow, men and so little honour to our God
will come from it ; but we know not what will come from it. That little thing is in
the hand of a great, omnipotent God, and His mighty arm can bend and turn it we
know not how or whither. U. We must now ask what Maby's motives probably
WEBB in this extraordinary act. 1. The strongest of them perhaps was a feeling of
grateful love for her blessed Lord. He had just raised her brother from the dead ;
had just shown a sympathy and affection for herself and Martha, which might well
astonish her ; had put an honour on her family she must have felt to be surpass-
ingly great. " Thank Him," she perhaps said within herself, " I could not when Laza-
rus came forth. I cannot now. My tongue will not move, and if it would, words are
too poor to thank Him. But what can I do ? Kings and great men are sometimes
anointed at their splendid banquets. My Lord is to be at Simon's feast. I will go
and buy the most precious ointment Jerusalem affords, and at that feast I will
anoint Him. It will be nothing to Him, but if He wiU suffer it, it will be much to
me." Do something to show that you are thankful for blessings, though that some-
thing be but little. 2. Mary was probably influenced also by another motive— a desire
to put honour on Christ. " Let others hate Him, and spurn Him," she must have
said, " Oh for some opportunity of showing how I honour Him." It is an easy thing,
brethren, to honour Christ when others are honouring Him, but real love delights to
honour Him when none others will. IIL Let us kow come to the judgment men
PASSED ON Mary's conduct. They censured it, and strongly. Men are generally
made angry by any act of love for Christ which rises above their own standard
above their own ideas of the love which is due to Him. They can generally, too, find
something in the warm-hearted Christian's conduct to give a colour to their dis-
pleasure. "Why was this waste of the ointment made?" It was a plausible
question , it seemed a reasonable one. And observe, too, men can generally assign
some good motive in themselves for the censure they pass on others. And mark,
also, Christ's real disciples will sometimes join with others in censuring the zealous
Christian. " There were some that had indignation." But yet again, the censures
passed on the servant of Christ often have their origin in some one hypocritical, bad
man. Who began this cavilling, this murmuring against Mary ? We turn to St.
John's Gospel, and he tells us it was Judas — Judas Iscariot, the betrayer. Trace to
their source the bitter censures with which many a faithful Christian is for a time
assailed,^ you will often find it in the secret, unthought of baseness of some low,
hypocritical man. IV. The history now brings before us the notice oub Lord took
ow THIS wohan's conduct. Hc, first, vindicated it. And observe how He vindicates
Biary — with a wonderful gentleness towards those who had blamed her. The prac-
tical lesson is, brethren, to adore the blessed Jesus for taking us and our conduct
under His protection, and while acting through His grace as He would have as, to
568 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. nv.
feel ourselves safe, and more than safe, in His hands. " He that toucheth you,**
He says, " toucheth the apple of My eye." But this is not all — our Saviour recom-
penses tiiis grateful woman as well as vindicates her. ** Wheresoever," He says,
" this gospel shall be preached, throughout the whole world, this also that she hath
done shall be spoken of for a memorial of her." Our Lord had said long before,
" Blessed are ye when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say aU
manner of evil against you falsely, for My sake. Kejoice, and be exceeding glad,
for great is your reward in heaven." But here He anticipates this ; there is a re-
ward for this woman on the earth, and a wide and large one. And now, turning from
Mary and her conduct, let us think of ourselves and our conduct. What have we
done for Christ ? " We love Him because He first loved us " — there is the secret of
Christian obedience. Christian self-denial. Christian devotedness. (C. Bradley,
M.A.) The box of ointment : — I. The natubb or the act. It was done to Christ.
It was inspired by a right sentiment. If we give all that we possess to Christ still it
is less than He deserves. Her regret is not that she gave so much, but so httle.
n. The lessons. An action is precisely of the value of the motive by which it has
been actuated. We must, moreover, take into account the difference of positions
and mental tendencies. Good intention, which is no other thing than love, may
deceive itself, without doubt, but it does not always deceive itself. In the Divine
flame which the Spirit kindles the light is inseparable from the heat. He who seeks
to do the will of God will know the mind of God. Even in giving to the poor it iff
possible to make serious mistakes. True charity does not open the heart without
expanding the mind. (Alexander Vinet, D.D.) A woman's memorial: — It weD
exhibits, in a single illustration, the appropriateness, the motive, the measure, and
the reward of Christian zeal (Mark xiv. 3-9). I. Wb stabt out with a becooni-
TION, ON ODB PART, OF A SETTLED BULB OF ACTIVITT. All of Christ' 8 frieuds are
expected to do something for Him. 1. Work and sacrifice are not inconsistent with
even the highest spirituality. For this is the same Mary whose other story is
BO familiar to us all. She was the one who used to sit at Jesus' feet (Luke x. 39) in
all the serene quiet of communion with her Lord ; yet now who would say that Mary
at the Master's head might not be as fine a theme for the artist's pencil ? Piety is
practical, and practical piety is not the less picturesque and attractive because it has
in such an instance become demonstrative. 2. Our Lord always needed help while
He was on the earth. There were rich women among those whom He had helped, at
whose generous hands He received money (Luke viii. 2, 3). And His cause needs
help now. 3. It is a mere temptation of the devil to assert that one's work for
Jesus Christ is vitiated by the full gladness a loving soul feels in it. Some timid
and self-distrustful believers are stumbled by the fear that their sacrifices for our
blessed Master are meritless because they enjoy making them. There used to be
rehearsed an old legend of an aged prophetess passing through a crowd with a censer
of fire in one hand and a pitcher of water in the other. Being asked why she carried
80 singular a burden, she rephed, *• This fire is to bum heaven with, and this water
is to quench hell with : so that men may hereafter serve God without desire for
reward or fear of retribution." Such a speech may appear becoming for a mere
devotee's utterance; but there is no warrant for anything like it in the Bible.
Heaven is offered for our encouragement in zeal (Bom. ii. 7). Hell is often exhibited
that it might be feared (Matt. x. 28). U. Next to this, the story of this alabaster
box suggests A LESSON CONCEBNINO THE MOTIVE WHICH UNDEBLIES ALL TBUB GhBISTIAN
ACTIVITY. 1. In the case of this woman, we are told that her action grew out of her
grateful affection for her Lord. Every gesture shows her tenderness ; she wiped
His very feet with her own hair (John xii. 3). This was what gave her offering its
supreme value. 2. Herein hes the principle which has for all ages the widest appli-
cation. It is not so much what we do for our Saviour, nor the way in which we do
it, as it is the feeling which prompts us in the doing of anything that receives His
welcome. It is the affection pervading the seal which renders the zeal precious.
3. It may as well be expected that the ^dness which proceeds from pure love wiU
sometimes meet with misconstruction. Those who look upon zeal far beyond their
own in disinterested affection, will frequently be overheard to pass uncharitable
mis judgments upon it. We find (John xii. 4-6] that it was only Judas Isoariot
after all, on this occasion, who took the lead m assigning wrong motives to the
woman, and he did not so much care for the poor as he did for his own bag of trea-
sure. No matter how much our humble endeavours to honour our Lord Jesus may
be derided, it will be helpful to remember they are fuUy appreciated by Him. 4. This
18 the principle which uplifts and enobles even commonplace zeal When trot
CHAT. 30?.] 8T. MARK, 659
honest loYO it fhe motiye, do we not all agree that it is slight ministrations more
than great oonspicnous efforts which touoh the heart of one who receives them '^
The more onnoticed to every eye except onrs, the more dear are the glances of ten-
derness we receive. It is the delicacy, not the bulk, of the kindness which constitutes
its charm. lY. The final lesson of this story la concebnino thk bbwabd or Cbbis-
TiAN ZBAL. Higher encomium was never pronounced than that which this woman
received from ^e Master. 1. It was Jesus that gave the approval. Set that over
against the fault-filnding of Jadas 1 If we do our duty, we have a right to appeal
away from anybody who carps. When Christ justifies, who is he that condemns 'I
Some of OS have read of the ancient classic orator, who, having no favour in the
tiieatre, went into the temple and gestured before the statues of the gods ; he said
they better understood him. Thus may maligned believers retire from the world
that misjudges them, and comfort themselves with Jesus' recognition. 2. Jesus
said this woman should be remembered very widely — wherever the gospel should go.
Men know what is good and fine when they see it. And they stand ready to com
mend it. Even Lord Byron had wit enough to see that —
** The drying up a single tear has more
Of honest fame, than shedding seas of gore.'*
8c«M ol the grandest lives in histoiy have had only little show to make. Gare-
burdened women, invalids on couches, ill-clad and ill-fed sons of toil, maid-servants,
man-servants, apprentices and hirelings with few unoccupied hours, timid hearts,
imeduoated minds, sailors kept on ships, soldiers held in garrisons — these, with only
ft poor chance, have done such service that the world remembers them with its
widest renown (Faa. oxiL 5, 6). 8. It was just this parable of Jesus which b^same
Mary's memoriaL A word sometimes lasts longer than a marble slab. We must
learn to be content with the approval of God and our own consciences. Nothing
will ever be forgotten that is worUi a record in God's book. Those who die in the
Lord wUl find tiheir works follow them, and the worthy fame remains behind : "The
memory of the jost is blessed ; bat the name of the wicked shall rot" Only we
are to recollect that love alone gives character and value to all zeal. That
was a most suggestive remark of old Thomas 4 Eempis: *'He doeth much,
who loveth much ; and he also doeth much, who doeth well." (C. S, Robin-
mm^ D.D.) The iocrifiee of love: — ^I. Tna baobhtoe or love. Observe — 1.
What Maiy gave. The alabastron of precious and perfumed ointment Bare
ftnd costly. Love does not measure its offering by a bare utility; nor by
A legal okum. 3. What Mary did. Anointed with this precious ointment. Things
wortiiy of our highest uses are honoured when used in the lowliest uses of reli-
gion. What is worthy of our head, honoured by being laid at the Master's feet.
XL Tb> bbbttks or covbtousness. Judas's criticism. 1. Waste I because his plan
was not adopted. He thought not of the good that was done, bat of what nught
have been done. 2. He had an excuse. The poor I He was one of those who are
always ** looking at home ; " who do so with shut eyes ; who see little, and do less.
ni. Thi aboument or wisdom. 1. 1 shall not be here long. Jesus is not long — in
this liffr— with stay of as. Let as make much of this guest. Do what we can now.
S. You will always have the poor. These Jesus loved and cared for. This legacy
was not forgotten (Acts iv. 31-87). Nor are the spiritually poor forgotten. Learn—
1. To love Jesus and show it. 2. That no gift consecrated to Jesus is wasted. 3.
The best gift is a broken heart, the perfume of whose penitence and faith is plea-
sant to the Lord. {J, C, Gray.) Profiuion not watte : — L A motive. Mary no
doubt intended weU. Her ri^t intention would hardly have been questioned by
the murmuring disciples themselves. Whatever may be said of her work, nothing
can be said of her motive but that it was purely and altogether good. Now motive
is of first importance in the estimate we form of any act whatever, small or great.
Motive of some kind there mast be, or the act cannot be moral ; it becomes merely
mechanicaL The motive too must be good, or the act oaunot be otherwise than bad.
It need not, however, appear so, and frequently does not. Words are not neces-
sarily the garb of troth, nor appearances the signs and pledges of corresponding
realities. However good the motive may be it does not follow that the act as such
will be equally good. That is, there may be something more and higher in the
motive wan appears in the act. This may arise from ignorance, from our not
knowing how to make the act better ; or it may result from the nature of the act
Itself, AS being aaaentiaUy humble and commonplace. Bat a deeper oaiMe is found
560 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [oHii. rrr.
in oar inability to do what we wotild. We seem to do our very beat, we put forth
a ad strain our resources to the utmost, and yet, after all, come short, and some-
times sadly short, of our preconceived desires and hopes. There is, however,
another an^ brighter side to this. Our work is not considered absolutely by itself,
rhe motive that inspires it counts for something, it may be for much. U. From
the motive to this act let us pass to the act itself, with especiaIi befeben0e to
TEE IMPBES8I0N PRODUCED BY IT ON THOSE WHO WITNESSED IT. Mary intended well,
I have said : she also as certainly did well. This appears in part from what has
been already said, but the fact deserves and will repay still further exposition. " She
hath done what she could," is the testimony borne to her conduct by the Saviour
Himself, which alone were commendation sufficient, as it implies that she had acted
up to the full measure of her ability. But to this He adds : " She hath wrought a
good work on Me," thus greatly enlarging and heightening the commendation,
especially as the term rendered " good " means what is noble and beautiful. Her
work was thus good because it was the spontaneous overflow of a profoundly grateful
affection for the restoration of her brother Lazarus to life. It was thus good be-
cause it was in effect an act of complete abandonment and loving devotion of her
whole self to Christ as her one and only Saviour. No doubt there was something
extraordinary in the form which this declaration took ; but then there was some-
thing extraordinary in the sensibility of Mary's nature. But if Judas was first
and chief he was quickly followed by others ; for evil is ahke contagious and
confederate. Complaining is easy, and also infectious, and is often practised by
some as though it were a virtue. Mark, then, our Lord's reply to their common
protest, " Let her alone ; why trouble ye her ? " &o. A restrictive economy,
He virtually tells us, a bare and rigid utility is not at any time the distinguishing
characteristic of what is purest and noblest in human conduct. Utility has its own
sphere. Economy is a duty even where it is not a necessity. But there are whole
legions of thought and action into which neither the one nor the other can enter,
or, entering, can reign alone. There must be beauty as well as utility, there must
be generosity as well as economy, there must be splendour, magnificence, profusion,
seeming waste even, or human Hfe will lose much of its charm. The Uke pro-
fusion is seen in the Word of God as in His works. Shall men, then, in the service
of faith and piety, be so unlike God as to confine themselves within the narrow
range of a definite economy, or bind themselves to the strict and positive demands
of a rigorous utility ? Is this what they do in regard to any other kind of service,
and with reference to interests that are purely secular and material ? Shall it be
called waste for a vehement and self-forgetting love to pour costly perfumes on the
head and feet of an adored. Eedeemer, and yet not waste to consume them daily in
the gratification of a bodily sense ? No one inspired only with what is called the
" enthusiasm of humanity * vnll say so. Still less will any one who can profess in
the words of the apostle, as giving the animating and impellent principle of his
whole life, "The love of Christ constraineth me." But, in truth, utility has a much
larger sphere than is usually assigned to it. That is not the only useful thing which
simply helps a man to exist; nor is it, when viewed comparatively with other things,
even the most useful. The same principle applies to faith and love, especially to
the latter; while of this latter it may further be said, that its utility is greatest
when utility is least the motive to its exercise. That is not love which looks directly
to personal advantage, and knows how to regulate its fervour by prudential consi-
derations of profit and loss. HI. Maby's becompense. 1. Christ vindicated her
conduct against the angry complaints of His disciples. 2. He did more : He
accepted and commended her work as " good " — as truly and nobly beautiful. This
itself would be recompense enough for her. She could, and would, desire nothing
more, and nothing better. What more and better, indeed, could any one desire, for
«,ny work whatever, than the applauding " well done " of Jesus? 3. Yet more there
was in her case. She received assurance of everlasting reputation and honour.
Here was marvellous and unparalleled distinction, no deed of merely human creature
•was ever promised a renown so great. And though this renown could of itself add
but little to her future felicity, yet the promise of it, as indicating what the SaAriour
thought of her deed, must have been to her a deep and unfailing source of most holy
satisfaction and delight. Nothing of this kind is, of course, possible to us ; nor need
we desire it. We may, however, learn from it, or rather from both forms of Mary'i
recompense combined, that whatever is done for Christ shall not, even to ourselves,
be in vain. 4. With gracious recompense, there was also natural result. " The
house," says od« evangelist, " was filled with the odour of the ointment" Maiy
IT.) 8T. MARK, Ml
accomplished more than she intended, anointing not only Jesns, but all who were
with Him, and even the house itself. The fact is very suggestive, giving us at the
same time a lesson both of admonition and of encouragement. Continuity and
diffusion mark all we do. The thought is stupendously solemn, and ought to be
solemnly laid to heart. It is one to inspire us with gladdening hope, or
else to fill us with terrible dismay. (Prof. J, Stacey, D.D.) The broken
vase: — ^The affectionate Mary, in the devout prodigality of her love, gave — not
a part — but the whole of the precious contents, and did not spare the vase itsell,
in which they were held, and which was broken in the service of Christ. She
gave the whole to Christ, and to Him alone. Thus also she took care, in her
reverence for Christ, that the spikenard and the vessel (things of precious value,
and of frequent use in banquets and festive pleasures of tiiis world for man's
gratification and luxury) having now been used for this sacred service of anointing
the body of Christ, should never be applied to any other less holy purpose. This
act of Mary, providing that what had been thus consecrated to the anointing of
Christ's body, should never be afterwards employed in secular uses, is exemplary to
us ; and the same spirit of reverence appears to have guided the Church in setting
apart from aU profane and common uses, by consecration, places and things for the
service of Christ's mystical body, and for the entertainment of His presence ; and
this same reverential spirit seems also to animate her in consuming at the Lord's
Table what remains of the consecrated elements in the Conmiunion of His Body and
Blood. (Bishop Ghristoplier Wordsworth.) Costly offerings acceptable to God : —
There is just one principle that runs through all the teaching of the two Testaments
concerning what men do for their Maker, and that is that God does not want, and
cannot otherwise than lightly esteem that which costs as nothing, and that the
value of any service or sacrifice which we render for His sake, is, that whatever
may be its intrinsic meanness or meagreness, it is, as from us, our very best, not
given lightly or cheaply or unthinkingly, but with care and cost and crucifixion of
our self-indulgence ; and then again, that it is such gifts, whether they are the
adornment of the temple, or the box of alabaster— that these are gifts which God
equally and always delights in. (Bishop H, G. Potter.) Broken tMngs useful to
God :— It is on crushed grain that man is fed ; it is by bruised plants that he is
restored to health. It was by broken pitchers that Gideon triumphed ; it was from
a wasted barrel and empty cruse that the prophet was sustained ; it was on boards
and broken pieces of the ship that Paul and his companions were saved. It was
amid the fragments of broken humanity that the promise of the higher life was
given ; though not a bone of Him was broken, yet it is by the broken life of Christ
that His people shall live eternally ; it was by the scattering of the Jews that the
Gentiles were brought in ; it was by the bruised and torn bodies of the saints that
the truth was so made to triumph that it became a saying, that " the blood of the
, martyrs is the seed of the Church." It is by this broken box, that throughout the
Iwide world it is proclaimed how blessed and glorious a thing it is to do a whole
r thing for Christ. When the true story of all things shall be known, then will it
appear how precious in God's sight, how powerful in His hands, were many broken
thiQgs. Broken earthly hopes will be found to have been necessary to the bringing
in of the better hope which endures for ever. Broken bodily constitutions will be
found to have been needful in some cases to the attainment of that land where the
body shall be weary and sore no more ; broken earthly fortunes, to the winning of
the wealth beyond the reach of rust and maEE"l®a' thief {broken earthly honour, to
the being crowned with the diadem which fadeth not away. Tetf 1 even for what we
have to accomplish here, it often needs that we should be broken up into personal
helplessness ere we can accomplish anything ; that the excelTenoy oi the power may
benot of man but of God. It is along a channel marred, and, as we should say, of
no worth, that the precious ointment flows. Therefore, when any of God's people
are broken and marred, let them bethink themselves of this shattered box, and how
from it there flowed forth that ointment which anointed Jesus for His burial, and
how it gave materials for that story which every gospel should tell. (P. B, Power.)
She brake the box : — If relics were needed for the instruction of the Church of God,
we can well understand how among the choicest of them would be found the
remnants of this alabaster box. This broken vessel would not onlv be a monument
of love, but a preacher with varied eloquence ; at once pathetic and practical, tender
and even stem ; appealing to sentiment, and yet thundering against mere senti-
mentality ; its jagged edges preaching " fact " in this world which men are alwayi
telling as is a world of fact ; and saying, '* Beligion is fact — fact from God to man,
66
Sn TEE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [OKAP. Jtf.
ftnd back from man to God again." It may be that, as we studied these poor frag-
ments of the pAst, our minds might pass from the stem teachings of those jagged
edges to the sweet scent which diffused itself therefrom ; and so, impalpable and
invisible as that scent, sweet-savoured thoughts might steal into the secret recessea
of our being, and we might be won to more decided action for our Lord. We can
understand the broken vessel being carried into the exchange, the counting-house,
and the shop, and one man shrinking from it as he heard its story, and another
pouring out his gold as its depth and power struck deep into his soul.^ We can
picture it to ourselves on tiie table of the philosopher, as with his midnight lamp
beside it, he sits contemplating it with his hands spread over his temples, and rises
from his cold, unsanctified study, unable to understand why the woman did this
deed, and why any one should now be called to do the like ; and we can imagine it
now arresting with its broken form, now beguiling with even the remembrance of its
perfume, some strong intellect, which longs to know the reality of things, and bows
before the majesty and substsmce of true love as offered and accepted here. We can
understand how it would make a missionary of this one, whose deeds would be
known to all, and of another for Christ's sake a lone midnight watcher of the sick,
whose deeds would be known to none — from the light of love shining from this
broken vessel, as the lamps shone from the broken pitchers of Gideon, we can see
thousands fleeing, as the bats and owls before the morning sun ; and others, open-
ing and expanding as the flowers into bloom and scent. Were relics needed for the
conversion of man from his selfishness, his half-heartedness, his ignorance of the
power of love, first above aU things we would carry through the world the cross of
Calvary and its thorny crown, and next to them this alabaster box. (Ibid.)
Anointing : — Anointing was employed in the East for several purposes : first, for
pl^^iu^, it being a great luxury in that climate ; and the ointments were prepared
from oils with great difficulty. They represented the very best fragrance that could
be compounded. They were used by a person upon himself ; and it was a signifi-
cant act of esteem when ointment was presented by friend to friend. Ointments
were also used in the coronation and ordination of kings and priests ; and so they
came to signify sacredSess IHirough'^reverence. Ointments were further used in the
burial of the dead, and so came to signify the sorrow of love. But in every case,
wHetEer~76f~gift8, or for pleasure, or for sacred uses of consecration or burial,
it was not the intrinsic value of the ointment, but the thought which went
with it, that gave it significance. It represented deep heart feeling, loyalty;
deep religious consecration ; sorrow and hope. These various feelings, which
have but very little expression awarded to them, choose symbols ; and these
symbols almost lose their original meaning, and take this second attributive
meaning. (H. W. Beecher.) An alabaster box of ointment — Mary'i gift: —
In climates where the skin gets feverish with dust, the use of oil in ^ anointing
the person is still a common practice. It is so in India; it was so in ancient
Greece and Home. It keeps the skin cool and soothes it, and is held to be
healthful. In warmer climes the senses are more delicate, and the smells often
more strong and disagreeable, and sweet odours are therefore greatly in demand.
In Egypt to-day, the guests would be perfumed by being fumigated with a fragrant
incense ; and as spices are still used to give to the breath, the skin, the garments,
an agreeable odour, so was it then. In any house the Saviour would have had His
head anointed with oil. It was like the washing of the feet, a refreshment. In
India these anointings with fragrant oils and perfumes are largely practised after
bathing, and especially at feasts and marriages, so that the act of Mary was not
something embarrassing and peculiar, but only the very highest form of a service
which was expected and welcome. But, instead of the anointing with oil, which
would have cost less probably than the widow's mite, she has provided a rich
anointing oil. Judas estimated its value at three hundred pence ; Pliny says it sold
generally for three hundred pence a pound of twelve ounces. It was something of the
same kind as attar of roses ; made chiefly by gathering the essential oil from the
leaves of an InTKan plant, the spikenard, described by Dioscorides, 1,800 years ago,
as growing in the Himalayas, afid still found there, and used to-day in the prepara-
tion of costly perfumes. Except in drops, it was, of course, only used by kings and
by the richest classes; was costly enough to be made a royal present. Three
hondred pence would be worth aa much in those days as £60 would be in England
to-day. Mary must have been a woman of property to be able to bring such a holy
anointing oil; unless, as is equ^y probable, this amount was the total of her lowly
aavinga, and the with her royal gift, like the widow with her lowly offering, gives aU
ziT.] 8T, MARK. (69
Bhe had. If there be none other to anoint Him, she will not let His sacred heal
lack what honour she can bring. And if some reject Him, she will make it clear
that to do Him the least and most transient honour is worth, in her view, the
sacrifice of all she has. And so, with wondrous lavishness of generous love, she
buys and brings to the feast the costly unguent. It is enclosed in an alabaster vase
or phial, such as some which may be seen in the British Museum to-day, thousands
of years old, and not unlike the alabaster vases that are still made in vast numbers
and sold in toy-shops and fairs for a few pence ; the softness of the stone permitting
it to be then, as now, easily turned in a lathe. {R. Olover.) There is no word
for •• box " in the original ; and there is no reason to suppose that the vessel, in
which the perfume was contained, would be of the nature or shape of a box.
Doubtless alabaster boxes would be in use among ladies to hold their jewels,
cosmetics, perfumes, &c. ; but it would, most probably, be in some kind of minute
bottles that the volatile scfeuts themselves would be kept. The expression in the
original is simply, "having an alabaster of ointment." Pliny expressly says that
perfumes are best preserved in alabasters. The vessel, because made of alabaster,
was Cjp^ed an alabaster, just as, with ourselves, a particular garment, because made
of wato-proof-stuS, is called a waterproof. And a small glass- vessel for drinking
out of is called, generically, a glass. Herodotus uses the identical expression
employed by the Evangelist. He says that the Icthyophagi were sent by Cambyses
to the Ethiopians, " bearing, as gifts, a purple cloak, a golden necklace, an alabaster
of perfume, and a cask of palm-wine." (J. Morison, D.D.) Wasted aroma: —
Just as soon as these people saw the ointment spilling on the head of Christ, they
said : " Why this waste ? Why, that ointment might have been sold and given to
the poor 1 " Ye hypocrites ! What did they care about the poor ? I do not
believe that one of them that made the complaint ever gave a farthing to the poor.
I think Judas was most indignant, and he sold his Master for thirty pieces of silver.
There is nothing that makes a stingy man so cross as to see generosity in others.
If this woman of the text had brought in an old worn-out box, with some stale
perfume, and given that to Christ, they could have endured it ; but to have her
bring in a vessel on which had been expended the adroitness of skilled artizans, and
containing perfume that had usually been reserved for palatial and queenly use,
theyoonld not stand it. And so it is often the case in communities and in churches
that those are the most unpopular men who give the most. Judas cannot bear to
see the alabaster box broken at the feet of Christ. There is a man who gives a
thousand dollars to the missionary cause. Men cry out : ** What a waste 1 What's
the use of sending out New Testaments and missionaries, and spending your money
in that way 7 Why don't you send ploughs, and com threshers, and locomotives,
and telegraphs ? " But is it a waste ? Ask tiie nations that have been saved ; have
not religious blessings always preceded financial blessings ? Show me a community
where the gospel of Christ triumphs, and I will show you a community prospered in
a worldly sense. Is it a waste to comfort the distressed, to instruct the ignorant, to
baulk immorality, to capture for God the innumerable hosts of men who with quick
feet were tramping the way to hell ! If a man buys railroad stock, it may decline.
If a man invests in a bank, the cashier may abscond. If a man goes into partner-
ship, his associate may sink the store. Alas, for the man who has nothing better
than "greenbacks " and government securities 1 God ever and anon blows up the
money safe, and with a hurricane of marine disaster dismasts the merchantmen,
and from the blackened heavens He hurls into the Exchange the hissing thunder-
bolts of His wrath. People cry up this investment and cry down the other; but I
tell you there is no safe investment save that which is made in the bank of which
God holds the keys. The interest in that is always being paid, and there are
eternal dividends. God will change that gold into crowns that shall never lose their
lustre, and into sceptres that shall for ever wave over a land where the poorest
inhabitant is richer than all the wealth of earth tossed up into one glittering coin I
So, if I stand this morning before men who are now of small means, but who once
were greatly prospered, and who in the days of their prosperity were benevolent, let
me ask you to sit down and count up your investments. All the loaves of bread you
ever gave to the hungry, they are yours yet ; all the shoes you ever gave to the
barefooted, they are yours yet; all the dollars you ever gave to churches and
schools and colleges, they are yours yet. Bank clerks sometimes make mistakes
about deposits; but God keeps an unfailing record of all Christian deposits; and,
though on the great judgment, there may be a " run " upon that bai:^, ten thou-
land times ten thousand men will get back all they ever gave to Christ ; get all
S64 TEE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. xw.
back, heaped ap, pressed down, shaken together, and ronning over. A yonng
Christian woman starts to instruct the freedmen of the South, with a spelling-book
in one hand and a Bible in the other. She goes aboard a steamer for Savannah.
Through days, and months, and years she toils among the freedmen of the South ;
and one day there comes up a poisonous breath from the swamp, and a fever smites
her brow, and far away from home, watched tearfully by those whom she has come
to save, she drops into an early grave. •' Oh, what a waste I — waste of beauty,
waste of talent, waste of affection, waste of everything," cries the world. "Why,
she might have been the joy of her father's house ; she might have been the pride
of the drawing-room." But, in the day when rewards are given foi earnest
Christian work, her inheritance will make insignificant all the treasure of Croesus.
Not wasted, her gentle words ; not wasted, her home sickness ; not wasted, her
heart-aches ; not wasted, her tears of loneliness ; not wasted, the pangs of her last
hour ; not wasted, the sweat on her dying pillow. The freedman thought it was the
breath of the magnolia in the thicket ; the planter thought it was the sweetness of
the acacia coming up from the hedge. No I no 1 it was the fragance of an alabaster
box poured on the head of Christ. One day our world will burn up. So great have
been its abominations and disorders that one would think that when 5ie flames
touched it a horrible stench would roll into the skies ; the coal mines consuming,
the impurities of great cities burning, you might think that a lost spirit from the
pit would stagger back at the sickening odour. But no. I suppose on that day
a cloud of incense will roll into the skies, all the wilderness of tropical flowers on
fire, the mountains of frankincense, the white sheet of the water-lilies, the million
tufts of heliotrope, the treUises of honeysuckle, the walls of " morning glory." The
earth shall be a burning censer, held up before the throne of God with all the
odours of the hemispheres. But on that day a sweeter gale shall waft into the skies.
It will come up from ages past, from altars of devotion, and hovels of poverty, and
beds of pain, and stakes of mart3n:dom, and from all the places where good men
and women have suffered for God and died for the truth. It will be the fragrance
of ten thousand boxes of alabaster, which, through the long reach of the ages, were
poured on the head of Christ. {Dr. Talmage.) Blinding influence of prejudice : —
A man said to Mr. Dawson, "Ilike your sermons very much, but the after-meetings
I despise. When the prayer-meeting begins I always go up into the gallery and
look down, and I am disgusted." " Well," replied Mr. Dawson, " the reason is,
you go on the top of your neighbour's house, and look down his chimney to examine
his fire, and of course you get only smoke in your eyes 1 " The anointing at
Bethany : — ^I. This pbophecv by Christ has been fulfilled. 1. Unlikely as it
must have seemed that the simple act of devotion here named should be known in
all the world, it has literally come to pass. It is told in all the languages of men,
till there is scarcely a patch of coral in the wide sea large enough for a man to
stand upon where this incident is not known. It should increase our confident
in all our Lord's promises. It is a witness that the rest will be found true as their
time comes. 2. Wherever this story has been told, it has received the commenda-
tion of those who have heard it. The Lord's judgment has been confirmed : not
that of those who •• had indignation within themselves," and considered the oint-
ment wasted. II. Why was this womah abls to do so praiseworthy an act?
How did she know so much better than the others that Christ was to die, and that
this was an appropriate act in view of His death ? 1. She had paid attention to
His words. She was a good hearer. Her ear was single, and her whole mind waft
full of truth. 2. Her act was the result of her character and feeling, not of her
reasoning. She gave to Him, because she was Mary and He was Christ. It was
the impulse of love. {AUx. McKenzie, D.D.) The offering of devotion :— The
time will come when to do a thing for Christ and to have it accepted by Him wiU
be work and accomplishment enough. If He is pleased, we shall not care to look
beyond for recompense. If the spikenard is pleasant to Him, we shall not ask that
the house be filled with its fragrance. But the fragrance will fill the house. The^
poor are best cared for where Christ is the best served. Virtue is strongest where
piety is purest. Let Him be satisfied and the world is blessed. Let us break at
His feet the alabaster which holds our life, that the spikenard may anoint Him.
Go out and stand before men and open the box of stone. Then men will be drawn
to^ yon and to your devotion. Soon kings will swing the golden censer, and nations
will oast incense on the glowing coals, and the perfume will make the air sweet ;
while many voices from earth and from heaven blend in the song of adoration unto
Him that loTod na. (Ibid.) The anointing at Bethany .'—In this narrative o^
ST. MARK,
Mary's good work and the indignation of the apostles, we have an eiample of all
those views and all those judgments which have their foundation in the favourite
principle of utilitarianism, and which is so often falsely applied to the wounding of
pious hearts, and to the hindrance of that justifiable worship in the Church ol
Christ, which seeks to express worthily the sentiment of reverence and of love, and
which is in itself productive of the highest blessing. I. (1^ In Mary we have set
before us an image of ardent love ; (2) in Judas an example of great hypocrisy ;
(8) in the rest of the apostles an instance of the ease with which even good men are
often scandalized when God's purpose happens to differ from their own preconcep-
tions. n. (1) In the acceptance of Mary's offering of the ointment, we have the
mercy of God displayed in receiving and hallowing man's gift when bestowed on
Hirn ; (2) in the rejection of Judas, who impenitently hardened himself at the sight
of Marys devotion, an instance is given us of the righteous judgment of the
Almighty against the sinner. {W. Denton^ M.A.) The true principle of Christian
expenditure : — ^It is commonly argued that whatever may have been the appropriate-
ness of that earlier devotion which built and beautified the temple, it is super-
annuated, inappropriate, and even (as some tell us) unwarranted now. Those costly
and almost barbaric splendours, it is said, were appropriate to a race in its infancy,
and to a religion in the germ. But the temple and the ritual of Judaism have
flowered into the sanctuary and the service of the Church of Christ. Not to Mount
Gerizim nor Jerusalem do men need to journey to worship the Father, says the
Founder of that Church Himself. ** God is a Spirit, and they that worship Him
must worship Him in spirit and in truth." If one would show his devotion to Him,
says this same Teacher, " sell all that thou hast and give to the poor." It is not to
adorn temples and garnish holy places that Christianity is called nowadays, but to
rear hospitals, and shelter orphans, and feed the hungry. It is a diviner thing to
send bread to some starving household, or to minister in some plague-smitten
Memphis or New Orleans, to some fevered sufferer, than to build all the altars and
adorn all the sanctuaries that ever were reared. Not it is not — not one whit
diviner — ^noble and Christ-like as such service surely is. Let us come to a distinct
understanding here as to an issue concerning which, in the popular mind, there la
much confusion and much more misapprehension. If it be asked. Is there not an
order and sequence in which things equally excellent may wisely and rightly be
done, the answer is plain enough. If anybody is starving or houseless or orphaned,
the first thing to do is to feed and shelter and succour them. And so long as such
work is undone, we may wisely postpone other work, equally meritorious and
honourable. But it should be clearly understood that if in some ages a dispro-
portionate amount of time and money and attention have been given to the
aesthetics of religion, in others the same disproportion has characterized that which
has been given to what may justly be called the sentimentalism of religion. An
enormous amount of indiscriminate almsgiving both in our own and other genera-
tions has bred only shiftlessness, indolence, unthrift, and even downright vica
God forbid that we should hastily close our hand or our heart against any needier
brother I But God most of all forbid that we thrust him down into a condition of
chronic pauperism by the wanton and selfish facility with which we buy our
privilege of being comfortably let alone by him with an alms or a dole. Better a
thousand times that our gifts should enrich a cathedral already thrice adorned, and
olothe its walls already hung with groaning profusion of enrichment, for then, at
least, some one coming after us may be prompted to see and own that, whatever
fault of taste or oongruity may offend him, there has not been building and beauti-
fying without cost and sacrifice. . . . Those wonderful men of an earlier generation
toiled singly and supremely to give to God their best, and to spend their art and
toil where, often if not ordinarily, it could be seen and owned and adequately
appreciated by no other eye than His. This, I maintain, is alone the one sufficient
motive for cost, and beauty, and even lavish outlay, in the building and adornment
of the House of God. We may well rejoice and be thankful when any Christian
disciple strives anywhere to do anything that tells out to God and men, whether
in wood, or stone, or gold, or precious stones, that such an one would fain con-
eecrate to Him the best and costliest that human hands can bring. When any
poor penuriousness cries out upon such an outlay, " To what purpose is thii
waste f " the pitiful objection is silenced by that answer of the Master's to her
who broke over His feet the alabaster box of ointment very precious, " Verily,
I say unto you," &o. And why was it to be told ? for the spreading of hex
iT No, bat for the inculcation of her example. {Bi*hop H. C. Potter.)
666 TEE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. nv.
Contrast hetween Mary and Judas : — *' Tlie Messiah, although going to death, let
me lavish my sUl on Him," was Mary's thought ; " Going to death, and therefore
not the Messiah, let me make what I can out of Him," was the thought of Judas,
(r. M. Lindsay, D.D.) Costly gifts acceptable to Christ :— There is a great
principle involved in this woman's offering, or rather in our Lord's acceptance of
it, which is this, that we may give that which is costly to adorn and beautify the
sanctuary of God and His worship. God Himself enjoined on the Jews that they
should make a tabernacle of worship of such materials as gold, and purple, and
fine linen, and precious stones ; and the man after God's own heart collected a vast
treasure of gold and costly materials to build and beautify a temple which was to
be exceeding magnifical. But since then a new dispensation has been given, which
had its foundations in the deepest humiliation — in the manger of Bethlehem — in
the journey ings of a poor, homeless man, with the simple peasants His companions
— ending in the cross and in the sepulchre. Is there place in such a kingdom for
generous men and women to lavish precious things on His sanctuaries and the
accompaniments of His worship ? Now this incident at the end of the Lord's life,
taken together with that at its beginning, when God-directed men offered to Him
gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh, teaches us that there is. Just as this
woman was led by a Divine instinct to lavish upon His Person what was costly and
fragrant, so the Church has, by the same Divine instinct, been led to pour at His
feet the richest treasures of the nations she has subdued to His faith. The Church
has done what she could. At least her faithful sons and daughters have. At first,
in her days of persecution, she could worship only in catacombs, and in her
day* of poverty she could only offer what was rude ; but when she subdued her per-
secutors and emerged from her poverty, then also she did what she could. The
grandest efforts of architectural skill have been raised to the honour of Christ, the
greater part built in the form of the cross on which He hung to redeem us. The
noblest paintings are of His acts and sufferings ; and the most elevating strains of
music are accompaniments of His worship. It is too true that many have taken
part in these offices who have not, like Mary, sat at His feet, and chosen the
good part ; but what we are now concerned with is, whether this incident warrants
those who have first given themselves to Him to offer in and for His worship what
has cost labour and treasure and skill. {M, F, Sadler, M.A.)
Ver. 7. The poor with you always. — TJie condition of the poor may he bettered : —
Covetous men have put our Lord's words, " Ye have the poor with yon always,'*
beside the Old Testament sentence, " The poor shall never cease out of the land,"
in order to quiet the trouble of their own consciences when forced to think of the
little they are daily doing for the poor ; and then tell themselves, and too often tell
others, that aspiration, self-denial, and liberality are, after all, mere spasmodic,
ineffectual palliatives of a disease which is inveterate and hopeless, and that, the
existence of poverty being an unalterable decree, there can be no true neglect in
doing nothing in their power, if there can be no full success in doing all. To some
other people this combination of texts supphes a convenient discouragement to
throw on all suggestions for elevating the condition of the poor, and alleviating the
pressure of their poverty ; for it enables them practically to conclude thus : " To
do this thing would be, more or less, to fly in the face of the Almighty : To alter
the conditions He has so clearly laid down would be, in fact, to contradict His
will." Of course this error also admits of an easy reply, too logical by far, how-
ever, for men who would offer the argument. It is this. God may have willed,
and has willed, that absolute equality of goods shall be, in this world, an impossi-
bility ; that the terms rich and poor, being relative terms, shall always have persona
to whom they may be applied, though a man who is rich as compared with a peasant
may be poor as compared with a prince. But God has never revealed as His will
that those conditions shall never be interchangeable ; on the contrary. His word
tells us that such interchange must be sought (James i. 9), and the history of the world,
from day to day, shows us, as part of its natural course, a continual rising of some,
and sinking of others, in the social scale. Then there is another class of objections
to deal with. It is urged by those who really sympathize in good will for the
physical and moral raising of the poor, and feel that the bettering of poor men's
condition would be an admirable thing if only it were possible, but that its antece-
dent impossibility frustrates all efforts towards so desirable an end. There art
very many such—people who feel Christian love to fellow-men fill them with long-
ing to promote their temporal, and through it their eternal good ; people who«
or.] ST. MARK. iC?
themselves blessed with ease and afiQaence in worldly things, feel themselves in
some sort trusted by God to benefit their poorer fellows ; who know the pity and
the wrong of merely flinging money, in whatever sums, into the grasping hand of
the loudest olamourer ; who strive with all their might in seeking, and fail so often
bitterly in finding, the true deserving poor ; who go themselves amidst the haunts
of squalor, the homes of misery, the very centres of disease, trying to make true
Christian mercy the dispenser of their money, and to consecrate even filthy lucre
to the holy ministry of Christian love. How many these are, of Christian men
and Christian women, God only knows who only can reward ; but yet how dis-
appointing is their work ! They see from day to day so little fruit ; they
meet from day to day so much resistance ; what wonder if, while conscience
urges them to persist in their work, despondency should often overwhelm
them, and make the toil, which only hope can lighten, a crushing burden when
hope is fled? Is it not too sadly true that when the self-indulgent love to
cry, "the raising of the poot is resistance to God," the self-sacrificing often
have to answer, " the raising of the poor is hopeless for man 1 " The one class
lets them lie, and cries, " their poverty is destiny ; " the other class labours even
while it cries, " our labour is in vain 1 " And both have only quoted half the texts
— the one side to excuse neglect, the other to explain despondency ; while the whole
text can force duty on the slothful and give courage to the zealous. For our Lord,
indeed, spoke the truth of His day, of our day, and of all days, when He said,
"Ye have the poor with you always ; " but He said something more which we should
lay to heart, " When ye will, ye can do them good." These glorious words settle
all questions at once as to the title of man to interfere with the condition of the poor,
and as to the alleged hopelessness of such interference. The thing may be done,
and the thing may be done with success. To alter the condition of the poor is
allowable ; to alter it for the better is possible. " Ye can do them good ! " {W. L.
Blackley, M.A.) Christians caring for the poor: — ^When the deacon, St. Law-
rence, was asked, in the Decian persecution, to show the prefect the most precious
treasures of the Church at Rome, he showed him the sick, the lame, the blind.
" It is incredible," said Lucian, the pagan jeerer and sceptic, " to see the ardour
with which those Christians help each other in their wants. They spare nothing.
Their first legislator has put it into their heads that they are all brothers." " These
Galileans," said Julian the apostate, " nourish not only their own poor, but ours as
well." In the year 252 a plague raged in Carthage. The heathen threw out their
dead and sick upon the streets, and ran away from them for fear of contagion, and
cursed the Christians. St. Cyprian, on the contrary, assembled his congregation,
told them to love those who cursed them ; and the rich working with their money,
the poor with their hands, never rested till the dead were buried, the sick cared
for, and the city saved from destruction. {Archdeacon F. W. Farrar.) Care of
the poor : — Thomas Willet, one of the old Puritan divines, was a man of remark-
able benevolence. He spent the income of his two benefices in comforting and
entertaining the parish poor, often inviting them to the hospitalities of his house.
When asked why he did so, his reply was, " Lest Joseph and Mary should want
room in the inn, or Jesus Himself should sav at last, ' I was a stranger, and ye took
Me not in.'"
Ver. 8. Bhe hath done what she could. — Do what you can: — ^I. That the Lord
Jesns likes His people to be doxno chbistiaks. She " did something." She did
" what she could." Hence the praises bestowed upon her. The great Head of the
Church likes " doing" Christians. Christians who show their Christianity in their
lives. True religion is not made up of general notions and abstract opinions — of
certain views, and doctrines, feelings, and sentiments. Useful as these things are,
they are not everything. The wheels of the machine must move. The clock mu-t
go as well as have a handsome case and face. It matters httle what a man thinks,
feels, and wishes in religion, if he never gets further than that. What does he do *
How does he hve ? 1. " Doing " is the only satisfactory proof that a man is a
living member of the Lord. 2. " Doing " is the only satisfactory proof that yc nr
Christianity is a real work of the spirit. Talking and profession are cheap and
easy things. But " doing " requires trouble and self-denial. 3. " Doing " is the
only evidence that will avail a man in the day of judgment. (Matt. xxv. 81, &o.) IL
That ALL TBUX Chbistuns can do something, and that all should do what they can.
Now I know well the devil labours to make true Christians do nothing. Doing
Christians are the devil's greatest enemies. I. Satan will tell some that they art
668 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [(
too yonng to do anything. Believe him not : that is a lie. Yet a little while and
the enemy will say, " you are too old, and it is too late." 2. Satan will tell othert
that they stand alone too much to do any good. Martin Luther, Mahomet, Napo-
leon— all are cases in point. They all rose from the ranks. Ti^ey stood alone at first.
They owed nothing to position or patronage. 3. Satau will tell others that they
have no power to do anything. He will say, " you have no gifts, no talents, no
influence. 4. But Satan will tell some that they have no opportunities for doing
anything — ^no door open on any side. 5. Do you ask me what you can do ? I
reply, there is something for every true Christian in England to do. Have you not
the power of doing good by your life ? you may work wonders by steady consistency
and patient continuance in well-doing. (Bishop J. C, Ryle.) Work and joy : — ^A
young girl, in one of her pensive moods, wrote thus in her journal : ** If I dared I
would ask God why am I placed in this world ? and what have I to do ? My day*
are idly spent, and I do not even regret their swift passing away. If I might but
do some good to myself or another, if only for the short space of a moment each
day 1 " A few days later her views were wider and brighter, and she wrote again :
" Why, nothing is easier 1 I have but to give a cup of cold water to one of Christ's
little ones." Paths of service are sure to open before willing feet. When the Spirit
of God puts a benevolent impulse in the soul the providence of God will open a
channel for its outflowing. Thousands of God's afflicted children would be inex-
pressibly touched if Christian young women would sing to them of His love and the
" home beyond the tide," (Ibid.) Good works the fruit of faith and love: — I.
The incident hebb recorded comprised the conduct op a certain woman on >
PARTICUIiAB occasion, TOGETHER WITH THE TREATMENT WHICH SHE RECEIVED ; first, from
some of the persons present, and secondly, from Jesus Himself. Those present,
not having the same affection and veneration for Jesus which the woman had,
found fault with her conduct. But what treatment did she receive from Jesus ?
" And Jesus said," &g. Here we see in the first place, how our Saviour defended
the woman, and reproved and exposed those who had blamed her. Let us notice
also in the second place, that Jesus not only defended the woman, but even praised
and commended her. 11. To draw from this incident some instructive infer*
ENCES. 1. We may hence infer that those works which Jesus Christ accounts to
be ♦' good '* are such as spring from faith in, and love to Him. 2. Such good
works, such acts of love and faith, will not always, nor even in general, obtain the
favour and applause of the world. To the world the good works of the Christian
are seldom either intelligible or gratifying. Propose, for instance, to worldly persons
to join with you in supporting some charity at a distance ; they will tell you how it
is abused and perverted, and that there are poor at home to whom we are required
to attend. Thus selfishness and avarice plead their cause, and lead men to evade
their plainest duties. 3. We may infer from the passage before us that those
"good works," those fruits of faith and love, which the world misunderstands, mis
represents, and censures, are yet graciously noticed, and favourably accepted by
Jesus Christ. My brethren, what encouraging and consolatory reflections are these
to all such as are endeavouring to serve the Lord Christ, and to be fruitful in good
works ! Begard not the sneers and reproaches of ungodly persons. Behave to them
with meekness and kindness. Overcome their evil with good. {Edward Cooper.)
Tlie motive and measure of Christian duty : — I. The motive of Christian duty.
Love is that motive — the very principle which fills the mind of Deity. It was love
which brought the Saviour down, and led Him through all the scenes of His earthly
sufferings and the cross. Christ has loved you ; therefore do what you mty, for
His sake. No higher motive than this can be urged. II. The amount cv sebvxob
required. The amount of ability is tiie measure of duty. What we oan do, wt
ought to do — cheerfully and honestly. Use the balance of the sanotu&iy t-j make
sure that thou art not defrauding thy God. (S. Robins.) Christ accepts tut
humblest gifts : — Christ asks no impossibilities. That woman brought sjn alabaster
box. What was it to Jesus ? Why, He owns all the fragrance of earth and heaven :
but He took it. He was satisfied with it. If it had been a wooden box He wooid
have been just as well satisfied had it been the best one she could bring. I hea>
some one say : •• If I only had this, that, or the other thing, I would do ao mcuL
for God." In the last day, it may be found that a cup of cold water given in the
name of a disciple gets as rich a reward as the founding of a kingdom ; and thai ijic
sewing girl's needle ma^ be as honourable in God's sight as a king's sceptre ; j»nd
that the grandest euloginm that was ever uttered about any one was : " She itatb
done whM she coold." There she sits at the head of the Sabbath-school class, and
XT.] ST. MARK. 66'J
«he eays : " I wish I understood the Soriptures in Greek and Hebrew. I wish I had
more faoility for instraotion. I wish I could get the attention of mj class. I wish
I could bring them all to Christ. Do not worry. Christ does not want yon to know
the Scripture in Greek and Hebrew. Do as well as you can, and from the throno
the proclamation will flame forth : *' Crown that princess. She hath done what she
oould." There is a man toiling for Christ. He does not get on much. He is dis-
couraged when he hears Paul thunder and Edward Payson pray. He says: "I
wonder if I will ever join the song of heaven." He wonders if it would not look
odd for him to stand amid the apostles who preached and the martyrs who fiamed.
Greater will be his wonder on the day when he shall find out that many who were
first in the Church on earth are last in the Church of heaven ; and when he sees the
procession winding up among the thrones of the sorrowing ones who never again
shall weep, and the weary ones who never again shall get tired, and the poor who
never again shall beg, and Christ, regardless of all antecedents, will upon the heads
of His dJsciples place a crown made from the gold of the eternal hills, set in with
pearl from the celestial sea, inscribed with the words : *' He hath done what he
could." {Dr. Talmage.) Doing something for Christ : — A man in America, who
depended for support entirely on his own exertions, subscribed five dollars annually
in support of the Bombay schools. His friends inquired, ** why he gave so much,
and how he could afford it ? " He replied : " I have been for some time wishing to
do something for Christ's cause, but I cannot preach, neither can I pray in pubUc, to
any one's edification, nor can I talk to people ; but I have hands, and I can work."
She hath done what she could. — Acceptance of the heart : — In many aspects this is
one of the most encouraging expressions of our Lord. It was uttered in defence of
a woman who ventured to approach Him under the unceremonious impulse of affec-
tion, destitute, so far as we know, of any recommendation from family circumstance
or social distinction, but urged solely by an irresistible longing to do something,
however humble or irregular, in behalf of this Divine friend, who has gained the
anntterable, enthnsiastic devotion of her soul. I. This answeb of oub Lobd's
PLAINLY AND POWEBFULLY ASSERTS THE SUFEBIOB WOBTH OF THE HEABT'B FEELINO OVSB
ANY ouTWABD ACTS. The Very form of the expression implies that, in one sense, she
had done but Uttle. Yet that little was enough. It was a test of her sincerity. It
said distinctly that she was in earnest. It demonstrated the deep and tender attach-
ment of her soul. One penny's worth, if it is only the utmost that self-denial can
do, is as good for that as ten thousand shekels. The whole spiritual meaning of
gifts consists in the disposition of the giver. II. These wobds bestow a blessing
ON THE FEELING OF PERSONAL AFFECTION TOWABDS ChBI3T. HbVC yOU CVCr had that
mingled sense of gratitude and love towards a person which made you long, above
all things, to find out some way of serving him, and made it a positive pain to be
denied that privilege ? Did Christianity not provide an outlet for this feeling, it
would fail to secure a practical hold on human sympathies. UI. Thess wobds
AFFIBM, FOB TBUB GOODNESS, A COHPLETB INDEPENDENCE OF PLACE. AoceptanOO with
God is as possible in small fortunes, or limited reputations, as in influential and
poweriul circles. No one, therefore, is excused from doing " what he can," nor is
there one to whom the whole infinite wealth of Christ's favour is not offered. IV.
Ability is the measubb of besponsibility. No soul is tasked beyond its power.
God's commandment never passes the line of a possible obedience, and so never
goes over from justice to tyranny. What we fail to render in actual work ^through
our hmnan frailty). He mercifully permits ns through Christ to make up m those
penitent and self-renouncing affections which gain forgiveness and open the way of
reconciliation. Still, let ns solemnly ask ourselves, even after making allowance
for this. Have I done what I could ? Has my service to the Master reached the full
measure of the powers and gifts, the capacities of affection and the opportunities of
well-doing, with which my Master has entrusted mef V. Take these thkek
THOUGHTS AS THE PBAd'IOAL SUBSTANCE OF THE SUBJECT. 1. This SBjing of JeSUS is
dangerously perverted and shamefully abused, if we take it as excusing us from the
utmost effort in well-doing, and a laborious progreiis in Christ's service. We must
rammon into the Master's service every power, tvery energy, every affection, every
liour of life. No laxities, and no apologies. Nothing less than entire consecration
is demanded of us. 3. In order to serve Christ acceptably, we have not to revolu-
tionize our lot, nor to seek other conditions Hidu. Uiose Providence supplies. The
place is nothing ; the heart is all. 3. There ib no service thoroughly right which
uoeb not directly doknowledge and honour the Saviour. The heart's offering to Him
iS the beginning oi all righteousness. (Bishop F. D. Huntington.) VarUnu wayi
wi% THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [cm*. !!▼.
of serving Christ: — The Father has appointed many ways in which we may walk
toward Hie face, and run on His errands. Work is the way for strength ; lying still
is the way for infirmity, — il only there are trust and prayer in both. Thezt
is some instruction in a picture \ have read of, which represents the lives ol
iwin-brothers diverging from the cradle. One, by study, becomes a learned
aud skilful physician, reaching great riches and honours by ministering to the
sick. The other has no talent for books, and no memory, and so no science;
he becomes a poor, strolling musician, but spends his davs in consoling, by
)}is lute, sufferings that are beyond all medicine. The brothers are shown
meeting at the close of their career. The vagrant is sick and worn ont, and
the brother prescribes for him out of his learning, and gathers ingenious com>
pounds for his relief ; but, meantime, he to whom God gave another gift, touches
his ineitrument for the solace of the great man's shattered nerves, and heals his
benefactor's disordered spirit. (Ibid.) Characteristics of fervent love to Christ: —
1. Willing service. 2. Costly sacrifices. (Wm. Marsh.) What a woman may do : —
An American paper tells the story of a woman who, because tired of a life mainly
spent in eating and dressing, resolved to devote herself and her money to a nobler
purpose. At the close of the war, she went to a sandy island o3 the Atlantic coast,
where about two hundred persons were living in poverty and ignorance, and there
she established her home, with the intention of benefiting the inhabitants. She
began by teaching, by example, how to cultivate the land lucratively. Then she
established a school for the children, and afterwards a church. Now the island is a
thriving region, with an industrious and moral population, the change being the
work of one woman. All may be useful: — Many true saints are unable to render
much service to the cause of God. See, then, the gardeners going down to the pond,
and dipping in their watering-pots to carry the refreshing liquid to the flowers. A
child comes into the garden and wishes to help, and yonder is a little watering-pot
for him. Note well the little waler-pot, though it does not hold so much, yet carries
the same water to the plants ; and it does not make any difference to the flowers
which receive that water, whether it came out of the big pot or the httle pot, so long
as it is the same water, and they get it. You who are as little children in God's
Church, you who do not know much, but try to tell to others what Uttle you do
know ; if it be the same gospel truth, and be blessed by the same Spirit, it will not
matter to the souk who are blessed by you, whether they were converted oi com*
forted by a man of one or ten talents. (C H. Spurgeon.) Usefulness of common
actions : — It is the bubbling stream that flows gently, the little rivulet which flows
along day and night by the farmhouse, that is useful, rather than the swollen flood
or warring cataiact. Niagara excites our wonder ; and we stand amazed at the
powerful greatness of God there, as He pours in from the hollow of His hand. But
one Niagara is enough for the continent of the world, while the same world requires
thousand and tens ot thousands of silver fountains and gently flowing rivulets, that
water every farm and meadow, and every garden, and shall flow on every day and
night with their gentle quiet beauty. So with the acts of our lives. It is not by
great deeds, like those of the martyrs, that good is to be done, but by the daily and
quiet virtues of life. {A. Barnes.) She hath done what slie could. — All may unn
this encomium : — This encomium is just as sufficient and adequate for the ablest as
the most infirm ; it is enough for such as Elizabeth Fry, Hannah More, and Madame
Adorna, and no more than enough for the unlettered woman carried out from an
obscure lane last week, having died in the joy of her Lord, and her name never seen
in printed letters, perhaps, till it was enrolled in the record of the dead. When I
read a description of Kaiserswerth, near Diisseldorf, on the Bhine — of that vast
establishment of Christian mercy, with its hospital, insane asylimi, Magdalen re-
treat, charity schools, and institutions for training the most scientific nurses and
accomplihhed teachers, graduating superintendents for the humane houses of both
Europe and America, and a few miles away another building for the rest and refresh-
ment of those that have been worn down by the fatigues of these voluntary labours
of love, — when I see how, throughout, charity has been systematized by skill, and
benevolence perfected by perseverance, and then behold the benefits flowing forth
to be extended and multiplied, in ever enlarging proportions, over the whole sick
and suf ering and groaning earth, — I am as much ashamed and humbled before this
devoted Pastor Fleidner, whose active spirit and benevolent genius have called up
all this busy and organized kingdom of Good-Samaritanism about him to glorify
the age, as I suppose my sisters are before the beautiful and accomplished baroness
who has laid down you^, rank, and wealth as an offering to sorrow and disease ; or
If.] ST. MARK, 671
before the high-bom, gifted, and admired English girl (Florence Nightingale) wb'*
came to Kalserswerth as a pupil, and then reproduced the same wonders of consolih-
tion and healing for sick and destitute governesses, — not amidst the rural quiet and
Bweet verdure of her own paternal home in Hampshire, but in a dismal street in
London. Yet we ought aU to remember that these, too, only did what they could ;
that, if we do that, God's honours are impartial ; that if we do not that, then ours
is indeed the shame of the shortcoming. (Bishop F. D. Huntington.) }Miat we can
do we are hound to do : — This language of the Saviour most naturally associate s
itself with the closing up of life's great account. Of how many among us, when that
trial-hour comes, with all its retrospections and searching examinations, can those
glorious words be spoken? We cannot recall nor judge the dead. They are in the
hands of the All-Just. But we can speak to one another as yet living. How many
of us are so striving righteously, and watching soberly, and praying earnestly, that
this shall be the just and consoling eulogy — They have done what they could ? The
busy man of affairs, the auccessful one, the disappointed and losing one, the young
adventurer, the older and long- trusted, and finally unfortunate one, — those that
have prospered by others* industry, and those that have been ruined by others'
crimes, — has each one of them done what he could ? The wife or mother, whose
very name is sacred, because the sacred office of forming character is her perpetual
duty, the lonely woman that has only her own heart to discipline, the young girl
that has so few cares for herself that God requires many of her for the less-favoured,
— has each done what she could ? The bereaved parent, the desolate widow suddenly
summoned to take up the dreary and dreadful burden of solitary suffering,— has
each done what she could ? is each one doing what she can ? Christ draws near to
ns and repeats the question. He tarns and puts it, with twofold solemnity and
sadness, to those that leave Him and pass away. To all that sit at His feet and
follow in His steps in the spirit of her who poured the fragrant offering on His head,
He is ready to speak the same benediction with His infinite love, — hiding in it the
sure promise of life everlasting. I said we cannot adjudge the deservings of the
departed. But we can guard ourselves against those hallucinations of mortal glory,
and all those artificial illusions, which are so apt to cheat our souls, and obscure the
plain truth. There goes to his august repose, enveloped in imperial pomps, the
ruler of the world's mightiest, vastest empire. Fifty-seven millions of human souls,
embracing nine different races of men, with a milHon soldiers, drew their daily
breath subject to his direct and despotic will ; but not all of so many millions could
add one single breath to his prostrate lungs. Eight millions of square miles of
territory were yesterday ruled by his word ; now he needs not eight feet, out of it
all. The guns of massive fortresses on the huge ramparts that guard widely divided
waters made a continent tremble in their volleying answers to his edicts, and the
haughtiest noblemen of the world bent at his smile or frown. Common cabinets and
kings were perplexed and afraid at the cunning of his brain, as boys are of their
master, and the armies of the strongest governments, after his own, felt the globe to
be a more conquerable and practicable domain the moment they knew he was dead.
But he is dead. And neither the millions of acres nor men, the fortresses nor tbe
fears, the armies nor the brain, shall make it a whit easier, but harder rather, for
his single soul — when it goes alone, disrobed of crown and purple, into the presence
of the King of kings, whose right it is to reign — to answer that simple question,
Hast thou done for Me — ah 1 for Me — what thou couldst ? Canst thou stand with
the lowly and powerless woman who crept with the box of ointment to her Re-
deemer's feet, and who shall have the story of that act of love told for a memorial
of her wherever the everlasting gospel is preached, when the history of Cossack and
Czar shall be dim as that of princes before the flood, and on to the end of time ?
But here, close by us, falls asleep a meek, patient girl, — a faithful sister, an obedient
daughter, a mild and friendly counsellor of a few children that she knew, ruler of
none on earth but her own patient spirit, and thereby made greater than he that
taketh a city, or prevents its being taken. She, too, dies, and no anxious hemispheres
dispute about the report, nor do kingdoms mourn, nor cowardly assemblies clap
their hands, when the report is confirmed. And in the day when the secrets of all
hearts shall be revealed, our only question is, which of these two shall be found
nearest to Him who sitteth on the one throne, and shall wear the crown which is a
crown of life. (Ibid.) She hath done what she could. — A whole city visited by one
woman : — An intelligent, industrious, and kind-hearted woman in Russia became a
Christian. Her labours were t ansformed into Christian labours, and were followed
op with an ardour and perseverance seldom exceeded. In her visits to the poor, the
57S THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOB. [ohap. xik.
carried books and tracts as well as food and raiment ; and when she foond perBoni
tillable to read, which was frequently the case, she made it a point to read to them,
and to explain what thej could not understand. Her prompt assistance was, in a
great measure, instrumental in a lealoos agent becoming exteusively engaged in the
circulation of the Scriptures. She gave him two of the first Firmish Bibles that ever
passed through his hands ; and when there was a great demand for the sacred
volume in that language, she actually sold her watch, in order to furnish one hundred
Bibles to the poor at reduced prices. She took, as her sphere for visiting, the whole
city of St. Petersburg, perambulating it alone, and suooeeeded beyond all ezpeota>
tions. In the course of a few months she sold more than 1,500 Bibles and Testa-
ments ; and in this blessed work she persevered, while hundreds derived advantage
from her visits. A little boy's effort : — " Children, I want each of you to bring a
new scholar to the school with yon next Sunday," said the superintendent of a
Sunday school to his scholars one day. "I can't get any new scholars," said several
of the children to themselves. " I'll try what I can do," was the whispered response
of a few others. One of the latter class went home to his father, and said, " Father,
will you go to the Sunday-school with me ? " "I can't read, my son," replied the
father, with a look of shame. " Our teachers wUl teach you, dear father," answered
the boy, with respect and feeling in his tones. ** Well, I'll go," said the father. He
went, learned to read, sought and found the Saviour, and at length became a
colporteur. Years passed on, and that man had established four hundred Sunday-
schools, into which thirty-five thousand children were gathered 1 Thus you see
what trying did. That boy's efforts were like a tiny rill, which soon swells into a
brook, and at length becomes a river. His efforts, by God's grace, saved his father;
and 1^8 father, being saved, led thirty-five thousand children to the Sunday-school.
Ver. 9. For a memorial of her. — Works done for ChrUt remembered and reeom-
pemed : — The doing of works has been over- valued in one part of the Church's
history, t.«., works as separate from the motives which led to them ; and, as you
know, for a long season language was held as if there was a merit in works, and as
if they could make an atonement for sin, and wipe out a man's past misdeeds, and
as if, if upon a death-bed he made great sacrifices to Christ's church, that wiped out
years of lust, covetousness, and cruelty. And so, by a revulsion of feeling, which
always must beset the Church, it has come to pass, that amongst us men have been
afnud of speaking of the great privilege, and of the great duty, of doing works of
love for Christ's body, the Church ; and there has come amongst us a mawkish,
miserable sort of notion, that we are to cultivate inward feelings, affections, and the
like, and that this is all of rehgion, and the whole of the reality of it, at which we
are to aim. But this is not the whole of the truth of the thing ; this is a very poor
and miserable counterfeit of Christianity. Wherever Christianity truly takes hold
of the deep of any man's heart, it will show itself, not only in guiding his feeling,
but in guiding his actions, in leading him to a generous, devoted, and loyal-hearted
service ; it will make him bring his *' alabaster box," and break it, and never count
its price, and never reckon nicely whether he could lay out his money to better profit
elsewhere ; it will stop all such objections as — "Had it not better been sold and given
to the poor 7 " for there is a munificence about love, and there is a grandeur in the
giving of a loyal heart, which Christ loves to see, and which He will surely reward.
In two ways this is set before us in the text. 1. In the readiness of our blessed
Master to receive the offering ; the way in which He at once stepped in between the
woman and her reproof, the way in which He put down the objection, whether it
was urged in hypocrisy, or whether in the darkness of a half-faith, that she had
better have sold it and given it to the poor ; the ready way in which He stepped in
and at once acknowledged " She hath done what she could," " she hath done it
against My burial." The woman, perhaps, knew not that Christ was near His end.
But so it is, that love comes at the hidden truth of things, before the things them-
selves have been revealed. The man who is acting from love to Christ is a sort of
prophet ; he foreacts upon that which is yet hidden in the counsels of God. 2. By
the remarkable promise added. See what enduring honour was this which Christ
put upon this deed ; see how far it goes beyond any worldly honour which we reckon
the highest in order. Those who labour for God will reap an abiding honour, which
is to be got in no path of earthly service. This little thing which seemed to err in
the doing, this thing which seemed to be done so easily, so naturally, which cost
this woman no thought beforehand, but which was just the impulse of a loving heart
—this has lived on and been spoken of, though all the Boman empire has passed
. xrw,-} ST. MABK. 673
away. The great gulf of forgetfulness has swallowed it np, but the Lord our God
«nduretb for ever ; and even the miserable works of man, when done for God, are
gifted with endurance too. It is wove, as it were, into the web of God's greatness ;
and 80 it lasts on, and the blessing and the memory of it lives on in this world of
change, long after the great world of things which surround it has sunk down beneath
the distant horizon, and this comes up like some mighty mountain which was swal-
lowed up by those that stood near it and seemed greater than it, but now in the far
distance it stands out alone in the light of heaven and tells us that it is unlike all the
rest. And so it has been often with things done for God, and for Christ, and for His
Church. I. Encouraoembnt. The remembrance of this woman is a pledge that
God will never forget His people. Worthless though their work is ; mixed as it is
in the motives from which it springs, even in the very best men ; stained, therefore,
as it is with sin ; yet, for Christ's sake, it is accepted, and, being accepted, it shall
be rewarded. Here, then, is a great motive to exertion in God's service. Sow
largely this passing opportunity of time with the seeds of eternity. Put out your
lives, and all you have, at interest, where God will pay again that which you lend
Him. Make ventures for Him. Cast into the dark deep of His providence that
which He will give you again with interest. II. Duty. The power of doing this
comes from your being a Christian ; therefore the necessity of your doing it is bound
up in the fact of your being a Christian. You are not living as a Christian if you
are not doing it. The power of working for God is the fruit of your redemption. It
is because Christ has redeemed as that we can serve God with an acceptable sacri.
fice ; that creation has received us back again into the place which sin had lost for
as ; that all things can be full of God to as ; that we can in fact serve the Lord,
knowing whom we serve, and sure of being accepted ; that everything we have has
become a talent— our station in life, our daily walk, oar conduct in our family and
in the world around us, that these are tasks set us by God, just as much allotted to
us because we are Christians as the tasks of angels are allotted to them ; so that it
does not matter where or what I am in life ; whether my life is mean as men judge,
or great as men judge, it matters nothing ; it is the aim of my life which makes the
whole difference. {Bishop S. Wilberf&rce.) Work not for success, but for Ood: —
You are not to labour for visible success. This is one of the great reasons why those
who had begun to work for God are seen to faint. They think to gather, when they
should sow. They mean to do some great good, and they set about it heartily ; it
all turns to disappointment ; and, as they were working for success, they sit down
and work no longer. Eemember, brethren, you are working not for success, but for
God. You are to work in the dark. It is the very condition of life. In heaven we
shall work in the light — shall see the work of God ; but not here. In this life we
must work in the dark ; we must give to the unthankful ; we must give, because
Christ is represented in the poor and miserable around us, and because this is the
only way we have of breaking our " box of spikenard " upon His body. And^ if we
labour in love, there is a secret law of love bringing as to the result. The saints of
God have found this. They have done something in love, because ** the love of
Christ constrained them "to do it ; and, it may be in the next generation, or even
in the generation after, it has begun to work mightily. They have founded some
little institution with a liberal hand, and that little institution has swelled and
grown into a mighty fortress, in which the truth of Christ has been stored for a
whole generation ; they have opened a door in the desert, and they knew not that
multitudes, who should travel that way, would thank God for the refreshment thus
afforded to them. {Ibid.) A very pleasant way of getting ourselves remembered :—
Human aggrandisement gives no permanent satisfaction. I had an aged friend who
went into the White House when General Jackson was President of the United
States, four days before President Jackson left the White House, and the President
said to him, *• I am bothered almost to death. People strive for this White House
as though it were some grand thing to get, but I tell you it is a perfect hell ! "
There was nothing in the elevation the world had given him that rendered him
satisfaction, or could keep off the annoyances and vexations of life. A man writes
a book. He thinks it will circulate for a long while. Before long it goes into the
Archives of the city library, to be disturbed once a year, and that when the janitor
cleans the house. A man builds a splendid house, and thinks he will get fame from
it* A few years pass along, and it goes down under the auctioneer's hammer at the
executors' sale, and a stranger buys it. The pyramids were constructed for the
honour of the men who ordered them built. Who built them ? Don't fcnow 1 For
whom were they built f Don't knov 1 Their whole history is an obscuration and a
S74 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [ohap. zr».
mystery. There were men in Thebes, and Tyre, and Babylon who strove for great
eminence, but they were forgotten; while the woman of the text, who lovingly
accosted Jesus, has her memorial in all the ages. Ah 1 men and women of God, I
have found out the secret ; that which we do for ourselves is forgotten — that which
we do for Christ is immortal. They who are kind to the sick, they who instruct the
ignorant, they who comfort the troubled, shall not be forgotten. There have been
more brilliant women than Florence Nightingale, but all the world sings her praise.
There have been men of more brain than missionary Carey — their names are for-
gotten, while his is famous on the records of the Christian Church. There may
have been women with vases more costly than that which is brought into the house
of Simon the leper, but their names have been forgotten, while I stand before you
to-night, reading the beautiful story of this Bethany worshipper. In the gallery of
heaven are the portraits of Christ's faithful servants, and the monuments may
crumble, and earth may bum, and the stars may fall, and time may perish ; but
God's faithful ones shall be talked of among the thrones, and from the earthly seed
they sowed there shall be reaped a harvest of everlasting joy. {Dr. Talmage.)
Christ deserves the best of everything : — That woman could have got a vase that
would not have cost half so much as those made of alabaster. She might have
brought perfume that would have cost only fifty pence ; this cost three hundred. As
far as I can understand, her whole fortune was in it. She might have been more
economical ; but no, she gets the very best box and puts in it the very bestperfume,
and pours it all out on the head of her Kedeemer. My brothers and sisters in Christ,
the trouble is that we bring to Christ too cheap a box. If we have one of alabaster
and one of earthenware, we keep the first for ourselves and give the other to Christ.
We owe to Jesus the best of our time, the best of our talents, the best of everything.
If there is anybody on earth you love better than Jesus, you wrong Him. Who has
ever been so loving and pure and generous t Which one of your friends offered to pay
all your debts, and carry all your burdens, and suffer all your pains f Which one
of them offered to go into the grave to make you victor ? Tell me who he is and
where he lives, that I may go and worship him also. No, no ; you know there has
never been but one Jesus, and that if He got His dues, we would bring to Him all
the gems of the mountains, and all the pearls of the sea, and all the flowers of the
field, and all the fruits of the tropics, and all the crowns of dominions, and all the
boxes of alabaster. If you have any brilliancy of wit, bring it ; any clearness of
judgment, any largeness of heart, any attractiveness of position, bring them. Away
with the cheap bottles of stale perfume when you may fill the banqueting-hall of
Christ with exquisite aroma. Paul had made great speeches before, but he made
his best speech for Christ. John had warmth of affection in other directions, but he
had his greatest warmth of affection for Christ. Jesus deserves the best word we
ever uttered, the gladdest song we ever sang, the most loving letter we ever wrote,
the healthiest day we ever hved, the strongest heart-throb we ever felt. {Ibid.\
Give the children to Jesus : — Is there a child in your household especially bright and
beautiful ? Take it right up to Jesus. Hold it in baptism before Him ; kneel
beside it in prayer ; take it right up to where Jesus is. Oh, do you not know, father
and mother, that the best thing that could happen to that child would be to have
Jesus put His bands on it ? If some day Jesus should oome to the household, and
take one away to com 3 back never, never, do not resist Him. His heart is warmer,
His arm stronger than yours. The cradle for a child is not so safe a place as the
Kfms of Jesus. If Christ should come into your household where you have your
very best treasures, and should select from all the caskets an alabaster box, do not
repulse Him. It has seemed as if Jesus Christ took the best ; from many of your
households the best one is gone. You knew that she was too good for this world ;
she was the gentlest in her ways, the deepest in her affections ; and, when at last
the sickness came, you had no faith in medicines. You knew that Jesus was coming
over the door-sill. You knew that the hour of partmg had oome, and when, through
the rich grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, you surrendered that treasure, you said :
"Lord Jesus, take it— it is the best we have — take it. Thou art worthy." The
others in the household may have been of grosser mould. She was of alabaster.
The other day a man was taking me from the depot to a village. He was very
rough and coarse, and very blasphemous ; but after awhile he mellowed down as he
began to talk of his little son whom he had lost. ''Oh, sir," he said, "that boy
was different from the rest of ns. He never used any bad language ; no, sir. I
never heard bim use a bad word in my life. He used to say his prayers, and wt
laughed at him ; but he would keep on saying his prayers, and I often thought, • 1
«BAy. sy.l 8T, MARK, CTA
oan'fe keep that child ; ' and I said to my wife : ' Mother, we oan't keep that child.*
But, sir, the day he was drowned, and they brought him in and laid him down on
the carpet, so white and so beautiful, my heart broke, sir. I knew we couldn't keep
him." Yes, yes, that is Christ's way ; He takes this alabaster box. {Ibid.) A
thank-offering for Jetus : — Now, my friends, this woman made her offering to Christ ;
what offering have you to make to Jesus ? She brought an alabaster box, and she
brought ointment. Some of you have been sick. In the hours of loneliness and
suffering you said : " Lord Jesus, let me get well this time, and I will be consecrated
to Thee." The medicines did their work ; the doctor was successful ; you are well ;
you are here to-night. What offering have you to make to the Lord JesoB who
cured you ? Some of you have been out to Greenwood, not as those who go to look
at the monuments and criticise the epitaphs, but in the procession that came out of
the gate with one less than when you went in. And yet you have been comforted.
The gravedigger's spade seemed to turn up the flowers of that good land where God
shall wipe away the tears from your eyes. For that Jesus who so comforted yon,
and so pitied you, what offering have you to make ? Some of you have passed with-
out any special trouble. To-day, at noon, when you gathered around the table, if
you had called the familiar names, they would have all answered. Plenty at the
table, plenty in the wardrobe. To that Jesus who has clothed and fed you all your
life long, to that Jesus who covered Himself with the glooms of death that He might
purchase your emancipation, what offering of the soul have you to make f The
woman of the text brought the perfumes of nard. You say : " The flowers of the
field are all dead now, and we ean't bring them." I know it. The flowers on the
platform are only those that are plucked from the grim hand of death ; they are the
children of the hothouse. The flowers of the field are all dead. We saw them
blooming in the valleys and mountains ; they ran up to the very lips of the eave ;
they garlanded the neck of the hills like a May queen. They set their banquet of
golden cups for the bee, and dripped in drops of honeysuckle for the humming-bird.
They dashed their anthers against the white hand of the siok child, and came to
the nostrils of the dying like spice gales from heaven. They shook in the agitation
of the bride, and at the burial hour sang the silver chime of a resurrection. Beau-
tiful flowers 1 Bright flowers 1 Sweet flowers 1 But they are all dead now. I saw
their scattered petals on the foam of the wild brook, and I pulled aside the hedge,
and saw the place where their corpses lay. We cannot bring the flowers. What
shall we bring ? Oh, from our heart's affections, to-night let us bring the sweet-
smelling savour of a Christian sacrifice. Let us bring it to Christ, and as we have
no other vase in which to carry it, let this glorious Sabbath hour be the alabaster
box. Rawlins White, an old martyr, was very decrepid ; and for years he had been
bowed almost double, and could hardly walk ; but he was condemned to death, and,
on his way to the stake, we are told, the bonds of his body seemed to break, and he
roused himself up as straight and exuberant as an athlete, and walked into the fire
singing victory over the flames. Ah, it was the joy of dying for Jesus that straightened
his body, and roused his soul I If we suffer with Him on earth we shall be glorified
with Him in heaven. Choose His service ; it is a blessed service. Let no man or
woman go out of this house to-night unblest. Jesus spreads out both arms of His
mercy. He does not ask where you came from, or what have been your sins, or
what have been your wanderings : but He says, with a pathos and tenderness that
ought to break you down : " Come unto Me all ye who are weary and heavy laden,
And I will give you rest." Who will accept tiie o£ter of His mercy ? {Ibid,)
Vers. 9-11. And Jndaa Iscariot. — Mary and Judas : — ^As these verses, and espe-
cially the narrative of the Fourth Gospel, place in juxtaposition tiie grandest act of
Mary and the vilest deed of the son of Iscariot, let us take this opportunity of
contrasting th« one with the other, that the brightness of the one character may
allure us into the path which she trod, and that the baseness of the other may
determine us with all speed to shun all sin, that we may not be destroyed by its
plagues. I. We here have Mary's love for her Lord arriving at its loftier elevation,
pouring its costly treasure on those feet at which she was wont to ait with ao much
reverence, and learn lessons whose value is beyond rubies. It was not at first that
she wrought this deed of munificence, the fame of which shall be coeval with the
duration of the world which now is, but after continuing to receive and to profit by
the instructions and works of her Lord for some time ; the gracious impression on
her mind and heart toward her Lord, once in its infancy, is full-fledged and full-
grown; now the little leaven has leavened the whole lump. II. Now let Hi
51« THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [OBAr. zrr.
glance at bim who was called to be on earth one of the twelve, and cailed in
heaven to sit on an apostolic throne; bat who became oovetoas, and, in conse-
quence, stole from the poor, and sold the Lord for thirty pieces of silver. He was
not all this at once, even as Mary did not break her alabaster box the first time she
saw Jesus, but the last, immediately before His death and burial. Judas Iscariot
erred by blowing a creaturely thing, even mammon, to have an undue place first
in his thoughts and then in his heart. Jesus was the object of Mary's regard, her
thoughts were ever running after Him, until her heart was filled and ruled by His
love, so that she would consider it a little thing to be allowed to poar a fortune
down at His feet. She was spiritually-minded, and in that she found rest to her
soul; Judas was carnally-minded, and he fearfully proved that to be so is death.
III. These opposites serve to show that a continued course of virtue or sin will lead
to extraordinary acts of goodness or crime when opportunity or temptation arises.
While the love of Christ leads to constant acts of beneficence for Christ, and extra-
ordinary acts on great occasions, as with Mary, so, on the other hand, the disciple
who allows himself to indulge at first in lesser acts of delinquency, waxes gradually
worse and worse, becomes so habituated to wander from the straight line, that he
is prepared to commit under strong temptation the greatest enormity, to do that of
winch at one time he would have cried with horror, " Is thy servant a dog, that he
should do this thing ? " Nip sin in the bud ; cease from it at once, for you little
know to what height of crime and depth of shame it may conduct ; seek, by God's
help, to eject from the heart the little leaven of perverseness ere the whole heart
and life be corrupted and misguided thereby ; the beginning of sin is as the letting
out of water, there is the trickling stream at first, the overwhelming flood after-
wards. IV. We have the Lord's commendation of the one and condemnation of
the other. How contrary his fate on earth to that of the woman of Bethany !
Thus, the one who forgot self and thought only of her Lord, and gloried that she
might become poor if He might but be honoured, the fragrance of her name fills
the whole world with a sweet perfume, even as the ointment filled the house
with a grateful odour ; while the other, who, yielding to temptation, did not care
that His Lord should be destroyed if he might be enriched and aggrandized, his
fate is to stand forth among men as most destitute and desolate, cursed of God and
man. And where are they now — the Christ-loving one and the money-loving one —
brought into contact for a moment under this roof ? The distance between them,
the moral distance, has been widening ever since, and will evermore and evermore ;
the one has been soaring always nearer to the throne of infinite love and truth,
following the Lamb whithersoever He goeth, increasing in likeness and devotednesa
to her Lord ; the other, cut ofi' from all sources of restoring life, and only exposed to
what is evil, is always plunging into a lower depth of corruption, wandering ever to
greater distances from his Father's house, his Shepherd's fold ; it had been good for
that man if he had never been bom. A few lessons suggested by this subject : 1. We
have a terrible lesson read to us here against the sin of covetousness. It is not neces-
sary to have large sums of money entrusted to us to be covetous. No one can sin
exactly as he did by selling again his Saviour for money, but professors, if not
watchful, may allow their supreme love to wander from Christ, and to concentrate
itself on earthly treasure, be it equal in value to five pounds or fifty thousand ; the
sin is not in the quantity of wealth which is preferred to the Saviour, but in giving
to weidth or anything else our highest love instead of to Jesus. Those who do this
are as guilty of soul-destroying idolatry as ever Judas was. Take heed and beware
of eovetousness ; all the more need to beware thereof because it comes to us in
such specious forms, and assumes such deceptive titles, as economy, carefulness,
prudence, honesty, provision for the future, provision against old age ; it is a sin
which among men is treated with respect, and not held in abhorrence, as are sins
of murder, adultery, and theft ; and yet it has been the millstone which has sunk
many besides Judas among the abysses of the bottomless pit ; it is idolatry, says
the Word of God ; and we know that no idolater hath place in the kingdom of
heaven. 2. The only safeguard against this and every other evil besetment is to
imbibe the spirit and track the steps of Mary. Her heart was full of Christ. Let
Him have your heart, that He may wash it from all sin in His blood, and fill it
^ith His perfect love. Begard Him as your one thing needful, the only one abso
lutely essential to your well-being. Having given Him your heart, and fastened ita
strongest love on Him, all boxes and bags containing treasure will be forthcoming
at His demand ; and in life, in death, in eternity, like Mary, you will be infinitely
removed from Judas and all who are like-minded. Well, my fellow-sinners, do yoa
xrrj fir. MARK, 57T
choose with Judas or with Mary? Not with Jndas, you say. You would not, if you
could, betray the Holy One and the Just. But his original offence, the root of the
great betrayal sin, consisted in allowing something in preference to Christ to engage
his thoughts and affections, even money, until he became wholly absorbed thereby ;
^here was the seat of the mischief. ^ As long, then, as anything has your heart, be
it money, be it a fellow-creature, be it a sensual indulgence, a carnal gratification,
be it anything else, you do choose with Judas and not with Mary. You give your
heart, like the apostate, to some creaturely thing or other, and as long as you do
your soul is in danger of eternal ruin ; that one sin of yours, unless it be abandoned,
will destroy you. Oh, choose with the sister of Martha and Lazarus, and give the
whole heart to Jesus. (T. Nightingale.) Remembering the poor but not Christ : —
On a cold winter evening, I made my first call on a rich merchant in New York.
As I left his door, and the piercing gale swept in, I said, " What an awful night for
the poor ! " He went back, and bringing to me a roll of bank-bills, he said, " Please
hand these, for me, to the poorest people you know." After a few days, I wrote to
him thft grateful thanks of the poor whom his bounty had relieved, and added :
" How is it that a man so kind to his fellow creatures has always been so unkind
to his Saviour as to refuse Him his heart ? " That sentence touched him to the
core. He sent for me to come and talk with him, and speedily gave himself to
Christ. He has been a most useful Christian ever since. {Dr. Cuyler.) Helping the
poor : — On one occasion only did I hear Jenny Lind express her joy in her talent and
self-consciousness. It was during her last residence in Copenhagen. Almost every
evening she appeared either in the opera or at concerts ; every hour was in requi-
sition. She heard of a society, the object of which was to assist unfortunate
children, and to take them out of the hands of their parents, by whom they were
misused and compelled either to beg or steal. " Let me," said she, " give a night's
performance for the benefit of these poor children ; but we will have double prioes.^^
Such a performance was given, and returned large proceeds. When she waf in-
formed of this, and that by this means a number of poor children would be bene-
fitted for several years, her countenance beamed, and the tears filled her eyes. ** la
it not beautiful," said she, *' that I can sing so ? " Through her I first became
sensible of the holiness there is in art ; through her I learned that one must forget
one's self in the service of the Supreme." (Hant Christian Andersen.) The
treachery of Judas : — Judas and Mary are at the two poles of human possibility.
Perhaps in their earlier years both seemed equally promising. But now how vast
the interval 1 Little by little Mary has risen by following God's light, and little by
little Judas has fallen by following Satan's temptation. 1. Many begin well who
perish awfully. 2. Self is the destruction of safety and sanctity alike. 8. Greed
leads to much inward backsliding, and to much open apostasy. 4. There is mean-
ness and cowardice in all evil. Evil lays plots and practises deceit, ashamed and
afraid to act in the open. 5. The goodness of good men makes bad men worse
when it fails to wake repentance in them. 6. The world thinks as Judas thought,
that Uie lack of money is the root of all evil ; but God says what Judas forgot,
that the love of money is so. 7. To get one-third of the sum Mary had spent on
ointment, Judas sides with the foes of Jesus, and becomes a traitor to his Saviour.
8. They who plot against the Saviour plot against themselves. It was Judas, not
Christ, who was destroyed. 9. Beware of half-conversion and the blending of
worldliness and discipleship, for such mixtures end badly. The thorns springing
up, ohoke fatally the grace that seemed strong and healthy. {R. Qlover.)
Policyof Judas : — I do not think that Judas meant to betray Jesus to death. He
sold TTJTn for aboQt £3 16s. He meant, no doubt, to force His hand — ^to compel
Him to declare Himself and bring on His kingdom at once. Things, he thought,
ought now to come to a crisis; there could be no doubt that the great Miracle -
Worker would win if He could only be pushed into action, and if just a little money
could also be made it would be smart, especially as it would come out of the
enemy's pocket. That was Judas all over. His character is very interesting, and
I think much misunderstood. The direct lesson to be learnt is generally the danger
of living on a low moral plane. It is like a low state of the body — it is not exactly
disease, but it is the condition favourable to all kinds of disease. Dulness to fine
feeling, religion, truth, leads to self-deception — which leads to blindness of the
worst kind, and then on to crime. Nothing is safe but a high Ideal, and it
cannot be too high. Aim at the best always, and keep honour bright. Don't
tamper with truth — don't trifle with affection — and, above all, don't be con-
tinuuly set on getting money at all ris]^- ' d at any saoifioe. We maj all look ai
87
579 TEE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [ohap. nr,
Jadas and learn that. {H. R. Haioeis, M.A.) The sin of eovetotunest ; — Learn
from this the greatness and danger of the sin of covetousness, the cause and root from
which spring many other sins (1 Tim. vi. 10.). A mother sin, having many cursed
daughters like itself. A stock upon which one may graft any sin almost. Hence
come fraud, injustice, and all kinds of oppression both open and secret; cruelty and
unmerciful dealing ; lying, swearing, murder, <feo. 1. It withdraws the heart from
God and religion, hindering our love to God, and delight in His service ; quenching
our zeal for His glory ; causing men to set their hearts upon worldly wealth and
gain, which so takes them up that they cannot be free to love God, and to delight
in His service as they ought to do (Matt. vi. 24 ; Luke xiv,). 2. It chokes the seed
of God's Word in the hearts of those who hear it, so that it cannot bring forth fruit
in them (Matt. xiii. 22; Ezek. xxxiii. 31). 3. Grievous judgments are threatened
in Scripture against this sin (Isa. v. 8 ; Hab. ii. 9 ; James v. 1 ; Luke vi. li).
4. It is a sin very hard to be repented of. When other sins leave a man, e.g., in old
age, this only clings faster to him. He that will follow Christ, and be a true
Christian, must forsake all things in this world (at least in heart) to follow Him.
But how difficult is this for the covetous man to do. Besides, such have many pre-
tences and excuses for their sin : as, that hard times may come ; and, " He that
provides not for his own," &c., which is one main cause why it is so hard for such
to repent. {George Fetter.) Covetousness not confined to the rich; — The poor
may think they are free from this sin, and in no danger of falling into it. But
(1) look, does not the love of money or riches possess thy soul ? If so, then, though
thou be poor, yet thou may est be in danger of this sin ; yea, thou mayest be deeply
tainted with it — if thy heart be in love with worldly wealth ; if thou eagerly desire
to be rich, and esteem wealth too highly, thinking only those who have it happy.
(2) If discontented with thy present estate, it is a sign thou art covetous.
(Ibid.) Remedies against covetousness: — 1. Eemember, that we are in Scrip
ture plainly forbidden to desire and seek after worldly wealth (Prov. xxiii. 4 ;
Matt. VI.). 2. Consider the nature of all worldly wealth and riches. It is but
this world's goods (as the Apostle calls it), which serves only for maintenance of
this present momentary life, and is in itself most vain and transitory ; being all but
perishing substance. Gold itself is but " gold that perisheth " (1 Pet. i. 7 ; 1 Tim.
vi. 17 ; Prov. xxiii. 5 ; Luke xii. 20). 3. Consider how vain and unprofitable to us
all worldly wealth is, even while we enjoy it : not being able of itself to help or do
us good (Luke xii. 15). The richest men do not live longest. All the wealth in the
world cannot prolong a man's life one hour. It cannot give us ease in pain ; health
in sickness ; but most unable it is to help or deliver us in the day of God's wrath.
Think of these things, to restrain and keep us from the love and inordinate desire
of this world's goods. One main cause of covetousness is a false persuasion in
men's hearts touching some great excellency in riches, that they will make one
happy ; but it is not so ; rather the contrary. 4. Consider the account to be given
hereafter to God, of all wealth here enjoyed; how we have used it, well or ill : for
wfi are not absolute owners of that we have, but stewards only, entrusted by God
with earthly substance to use it to His glory and the good of others. Think of this
well, and it will be a means to curb the inordinate love and desire of worldly wealth.
5. Labour for faith in God's providence ; to depend on His Fatherly care for things
of this Ufa This will cut off covetous desires, which are fruits of infidelity and
distrust of God's Providence (Matt. vi. 30, 32 ; Bom. viii. 32 ; Psa. Iv. 22). 6.
Labour for oontentedness with present condition. This is true riches (Heb. xiii. 5 ;
Phil. iv. 11 ; 1 Tim. vi. 8). 7. Labour to make God our portion and treasure. Let
thy heart go chiefly to Him, and be chiefly set on Him : thy love, joy, delight.
Then thou art rich enough. In Him thou hast all things. (Ibid.) The Church
injured : — I. That a too intimate connection between a pbofessino Christian and
THE WOBLD 18 INJDBIOUS TO THE ChUBCH. II. ThAT THE HYPOCBITE IS MOBE IN-
jUBions TO THE Chubch THAN A NON-PBOFESSOB. 1. The world depends upon him
for an opportunity. To the chief priests all plans and proposals failed, until
Judas's came. 2. Hypocrites are the leaders of the enemies after abandoning
Christ. Examples : Judas, Alexander the coppersmith, <fec. 3. They have a know,
ledge of the failures of Christian brethren. A fortress attacked — an enemy dis-
guised enters — has intelligence of the weakness of the fortification — ^joins the army
outside — leads the assault to the weakest place. Zion trusts in the "Lord. 4. ThejT
are too near to be seen. Gold and copper cannot be distinguished when held so
olosely as to touch the eye. HI. That a feeble mobal ohabacteb is injubioub t*'
THX &UBCH. rV. That the WOBLD'S joy ^ND the ChUBOH's OBIEF mat often Bis
W.J ST. MARK. 579
ATTBisnTBD 10 TH» SAME CAUSK. " And when they heard it they were glad ; '* and
"they were exceeding sorrowful." The same cause — how different the effects!
Dismembering, abandonment of God, &c., produce similar effects. "Be ye there-
fore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect." {William
Nicholson,) Modern apostasies : — The Rev. W. Archer Butler remarks : " The
apostasies of the table, the fireside, and the market may be as bad as those of
Judas, Julian, or Demas." And is it not so ? If, for some petty advantage — some
poor worldly enjoyment— our religious duties are neglected, do we not thereby
appear to acknowledge that Christ is of less esteem to us? If, for example, we
forsake our public or private devotions to attend social parties and engagements,
fearing lest we may be otherwise censured for not uniting in them, is not this one
mode of slighting Christ for the world? Or, if we allow the pursuits of money-
getting or private pleasure to absorb our lives, or leave us but the narrowest margin
for the service of Jesus and the promotion of His kingdom, is not this also, in no
imaginary sense, •* selling Him for silver ? " Then what will the end be if tiiis sin
shall remain unrepented of and persisted in. Traitors despised by their em-
ployers:— When Graveston, who betrayed the Spaniards at Bergen-op-Zoom to
Queen Elizabeth, came to England to give her Majesty an account of his success,
and to claim the reward, the queen gave him a thousand crowns, but said to him
at the same time, " Get you home, ^at I may know where to send when I want
a thorough-faced villain." Money that profits not : — Three men who were travelling
together found a treasure and divided it. Then they continued on their journey
discussing of the use that they would make of their riches. Having eaten all the
food which they had taken with them, they concluded to go away into the city to
purchase some, and charged the youngest with this errand, so he set out on his
journey. While on the way he said to himself : *' How rich I am 1 but I should be
richer, did I only have all of the treasure. Those two men have robbed me of my
riches. Shall I not be able to revenge them? That could be easily done, for
I Bhonld have only to poison the food which I am oonmiissioned to purchase. On
my return I will tell them that I have dined in town. My companions will partake
of the food without suspicion, and die, then I shall have all the riches, while I have
now only a third." During this time his two companions said to each other : " We
have no need that this young man associate with us ; we have been obliged to
divide our riches with him ; his portion would increase ours, and we should be
truly rich. He is coming back, we have good daggers, let us use them." The youth
returned with the poisoned food ; his fellow travellers assassinated him, then par-
took of the food direct, and the treasure belonged to no one.
Ver. 12. When they killed the Passover. — The Passover^ a typical observance : —
No other festival was so full of typical meaning, or pointed so clearly to ** good
things to come " (Heb. x. 1). I. It was a Feast of Redemption, foreshadowing a
future and greater redemption (Gal. iv. 4, 6). H. The victim, a laub without
BLEMISH and without spot, was a striking type of *' the Lamb of God that taketh
away the sin of the world " (John i. 29 ; 1 Cor. v. 7 ; 1 Peter i. 19). IH. Slain,
not by the priest, but by the head of the Paschal company, the blood shed and
sprinkled on the aliar, roasted whole without the breaking of a bone, it symbolized
Him who was put to death by the people (Acts ii. 23), whose blood during a Paschal
festival was shed on the altar of His cross, whose side the soldier pierced, but break
not His legs (John xix. 32-36). lY. Eaten at the sacrificial meal (peculiar to
the peace-offering) with bitter herbs and unleavened bread (the symbol of purity), it
pointed to that one oblation of Himself once offered, whereby Christ has made us at
peace with God (Eph. ii. 14, 15), in which whosoever truly believes must walk in
repentance and sincerity and truth (1 Cor. v. 7, 8). V. It was at a Paschal
SuppEB that its ANTITYPE, THE Ohbistian Eqohabist, was instituted by our Lord
(Matt, xxvi 17). (G. F. Maclear, D.D.) The Passover: — The Passover, com-
memorating the exodus of the children of Israel from Egypt, was the annual birth-
day of the Hebrew nation. Its celebration was marked with a popular joy and
impressiveness suited to its character. The time of its observance was the
fourteenth of the month Abib, called Nisan after the Babylonish captivity. It
corresponded to that part of our year included between the middle of March and the
middle of April. It is the fairest part of the year in Palestine. Fresh verdure
covers the fields, and innumerable flowers of brightest tint and sweet periume
bedeck the ground. The fields of barley are beginning to ripen, and are almost
ready for the sickle. To crown all, the moon, the Pasohal moon, is then at the
680 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [ohaf. XIT«
fnll, and nightly floods with splendonr the landscape. As early as the first of the
month, Jerusalem showed signs of the approaching feast. Worshippers from all
parts of Palestine and other countries began to arrive, in increasing numbers, down
to the very day of the Passover. They came in companies of various sizes, in
family groups, in neighbourhood groups, in bands of tens, twenties, and hundreds.
The city was filled to overflowing, and thousands encamped in tents in the environs.
Josephus says that more than two-and-a-half millions of people gathered al
Jerusalem in the time of Nero to attend the Passover. Universal hospitality was
shown. Wherever a guest.chamber could be found, it was thrown open. The only
recompense allowed or taken was that the occupant of the apartment might leave
behind for their host the skin of the Paschal lamb and the earthen vessel used at
the meal. (A. H. Currier.) Significance of the Passover : — I. Considering th»
EVENTS AND CIKCUM8TANCE8 ATTENDINO ITS ORIOINAI, INSTtTDTION (Ex. xii.), WC may
say, in general, that it signified deliverance through the lamb. The angel of death
entered not where its blood was sprinkled. It declared that the corruption incurred
in Egypt was expiated. II. But the meaning of the Passover was not exhausted in
the idea of atonement. For it consisted not only in the slaying of the lamb and
the offering of his blood, but in the joyful eatino or it. The wine at the feast
was a symbol of its blood. The quaffing of this as a cup of refreshment, and the
feeding upon the savoury flesh, expressively indicated that it was the privilege of
God's reconciled people not only to be saved from death by the lamb, but to
receive from it conscious satisfaction, joy, and strength. They felt the benefit of
His surrendered life in all their renewed and quickened powers. III. Leaven, as
PBODUciNQ FEBMBNTATioN, WAS A SYMBOL TO THB Jews ow cobbxtption. It represented
the influence of idolatrous Egypt, which they were utterly to put away. Unleavened
bread, therefore, was an emblem of purity. It signified that they who ate it had
put away sin. lY. The bittbb hebbs abe emblematical of the tbials and
DISCIPLINE WmOH FOBM AN ESSENTIAL AND WHOLESOME PABT OF THE ChBISTIAN LIFE.
Such trials are shadows made by the light. They are inseparable accompaniments
of the gospel in its work of subduing the world to submission to Christ. {Ibid^
Vers. 13, 16. Go ye Into the dtj.^TJie finding the guest-chamber :—Vfe might
expect that Christ, Ixiowing to how great effort the faith of His followers was about to
be called, would, in His compassionate earnestness for their welfare, keep their
faith in exercise up to the moment of the dreaded separation. He would find or
make occasions for trying and testing the principles which were soon to be brought
to so stem a proof. Did He do this ? And how did He do it ? We regard the
circumstances which are now under review, those connected with the finding the
guest-chamber in which the last supper might be eaten, as an evidence and illus-
tration of Christ's exercising the faith of His disciples. Was it not exercising the
faith of Peter and John — for these, the more distinguished of the disciples, were
employed on the errand — to send them into the city with such strange and desultory
directions ? There were so many chances, if the word may be used, against the
guest-chamber being found through the circuitous method prescribed by our Lord,
that we could not have wondered had Peter and John showed reluctance to obey His
command. And we do not doubt that what are called the chances were purposely
multiplied by Christ to make the finding the room seem more improbable, and
therefore to give faith the greater exercise. Again, there would have been risk
enough of mistake or repulse in accosting the man with the pitcher : but this man
was only to be followed ; and he might stop at many houses before he reached the
right. But Christ would not be more explicit, because, in proportion as He had
been more explicit, there would have been less exercise for faith. And if yon
imagine that, after all, it was no great demand on the faith of Peter and John that
they should go on so vague an errand— for that much did not hinge on their finding
the right place, and they had but to return if anything went wrong — we are
altogether at issue with you. There was something that looked degrading and
ignoble in the errand, which required more courage and fortitude than to under*
take some signal enterprise. And the apparent meanness of an employment wiU
often try faith more than its apparent difficulty; the exposure to ridicule and
contempt will require greater moral nerve than the exposure to danger and death.
We believe that it is very frequently ordered that faith should be disciplined and
nurtured for its hardest endurances, and its highest achievements, through exposure
to petty inconveniences, collisions with mere rudeness, the obloqny of the proud,
the sneer of the supercilious, and the incivility of the ignorant. Nowhere is faith
XIV.] 8T. MARK, 581
■o well disciplined as in hnmble occnpations ; it grows great throngh little tasks,
and may be more exercised by being left to the menial business of a servant than
oy being sommoned to the lofty standing of a leader. And we do earnestly desire
of yon to bear this in mind ; for men, who are not appointed to great achievements
and endurances, are very apt to feel as though there were not enough in the trials
and duties of a lowly station for the nurture and exercise of high Christian graces.
Whereas, if it were by merely following a man bearing a pitcher of water that
apostles were trained for the worst onsets of evil, there may be no such school for
the producing strong faith as that in which the lessons are of the most everyday
kind.. But there is more than this to be said in regard of the complicated way in
which Christ directed His disciples to the guest-chamber where He had determined
to eat the last supper. He was not only exercising the faith of the disciples by
sending them on an errand which seemed unnecessarily intricate, and to involve
great exposure to insult and repulse — He was giving strong evidence of His
thorough acquaintance with efBrything that was to happen, and of His power over
the minds whether of strangers or of friends. You must consider it as a prophecy
on the part of Christ that the man would be met bearing a pitcher of water. It was
a prophecy which seemed to take delight in putting difficulties in the way of its
own precise accomplishment. It would not have been accomplished by the mere
finding the house— it would have been defeated had the house been found through
any other means than the meeting the man, or had the man been discovered through
any other sign than the pitcher of water; yea, and it would have been defeated,
defeated in the details, which were given, as it might have seemed, with such un-
necessary and perilous minuteness, if the master of the house had made the
least objection, or if it had not been an upper room which he showed the disciples ;
or if that room had not been large ; or if it had not been furnished and prepared.
And whatever tended to prove to the disciples their Master's thorough acquaintance
with every future contingency, ought to have tended to the preparing them for the
approaching days of disaster and separation. Besides, it was beautifully adapted
to the circumstances of the disciples that Christ showed that His foreknowledge
extended to trifles. These disciples were likely to imagine that, being poor and
mean persons, they should be overlooked by Christ when separated from
them, and, perhaps, exalted to glory. But that His eye was threading
the crowded thoroughfares of the city, that it was noting a servant with
a pitcher of water, observing accurately when this servant left his master's
house, when he reached the well, and when he would be at a particular spot on his
way back — this was not merely foreknowledge ; this was foreknowledge applying
itself to the insignificant and unknown. Then, again, observe that whatever
power was here put forth by Christ was put forth without His being in contact
with the party on whom it was exerted. Christ acted, that is, upon parties who
were at a distance from Him, thus giving incontrovertible proof that His visible
presence was not necessary in order to the exercise of His power. What a comfort
should this have been to the disciples. It is easy to imagine how, when His death
was near at hand, Christ might have wrought miracles and uttered prophecies more
august in their character. He might have darkened the air with portents and
prodigies, but there would not have been in these gorgeous or appalling dislpays the
sort of evidence which was needed by disquieted and dispirited men. But to our-
selves, who are looking for the guest-chamber, not as the place where the Paschal
lamb may be eaten, but as that where Christ is to give of His own body and blood,
the pitcher of water may well serve as a memento that it is baptism which admits
us into Christian privileges ; that they who find a place at the supper of the Lord
must have met the man with the water, and have followed that man — must have
been presented to the minister of the Church, and have received from Him the
initiatory sacrament, and then have submitted meekly to the guidance of the
Church, till introduced to those deeper recesses of the sanctuary where Christ
spreads His rich banquet for such as call upon His name. Thus may there have
been, in the directions for finding the guest-chamber, a standing intimation of the
process through which should be sought an entrance to that upper room, where
Christ and His members shall finally sit down, that they may eat together at the
marriage-supper. {H. Melvill, B.D.) Providential meetings .'—There are no
chance meetings in this world. They all are providential. They are in God's
plan. On many of them great possibilities hinge. You enter a railroad car, and
take your seat among strangers. A proffered courtesy brings yon into conversation
with a tellow-trayeller. An acquaintance is the result. Years of helpful Christian
§81 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap, xit
co-work follow in the train of that first meeting. You visit a place of winter resort
for health-seekers. At the dinner-table you meet a man unknown to you until
then. An entire change in the aim and conduct of his life is one consequence of
that meeting ; and his labours for good may be far more effective than yours in
your whole life-time. You look in upon a celebrated preparatory school, where two
hundred young men are at their studies. One face impresses you. Your meeting
with him affects your course and his for all time, and involves the interests of a
multitude. Your meeting of another young man in a Sunday-school where you are
present only for that one session has more influence over his life than aU other
agencies combined — and scarcely less over yours. You may even meet on the
street one whom you wished not to see, one whom at that moment you were seek-
ing to avoid ; and as a result more lives than one are affected in all their human
course, and in their highest spiritual interests. All these illustrations are real
incidents ; and there are thousands like them. It behooves us to consider well our
duty in every meeting with another. We can fail to improve our opportunity and
lose a blessing. We can fill our place just then, and have reason to rejoice eternally
that we did so. Lord, what wilt thou have me to do — when next I meet one whom
thou hast planned for me to see ? {Sunday -School Times). The Master's question : —
«• The Master saith I " Has the charm of the Master's name vanished in these latter
days ? Are we, men and women of the nineteenth century, children of a modern
life and civilization which is ever extending itself with feverish restlessness and
painiul throes of new birth, are we grown fanuliar with strange voices, with forces un-
kno^^ n in that ancient world, and those ancient days spent under the blue Syrian sky ;
are we become superior to the claims, the force, the beauty, and the authority of a
great personal life ? Have we relegated Jesus of Nazareth merely to a place, how-
ever great, in the development of history ? Is He merely the product of social
forces and political and historic£j traditions ? ♦• The Master saith I " Being dead,
doth He yet speak ; yet so as through the faint vibrations of memory — of memory
which grows weaker as the ages roll behind us into the eternity of the past ; or ia
it a living voice still which I hear — a voice which no results of time can shake with
the tremulousness of age ? Do not our own hearts — we who have become disciples,
we who, constrained by a force which we could not resist, have exclaimed, *' Master,
Thou art the Christ who hast conquered me. Thou art the Christ who hast died for
me »» — do not our own hearts passionately exclaim, " He liveth still to make iilter-
cession for us, and to rule us with tiie supremacy of perfect love " ? Will ye also
admit the Master within ? Will ye hear Him ? Will ye let Him talk with you ?
This night, as a disciple of the Lord Jesus Christ, I bring the word to you also :
" The Master saith I " The voices of all His disciples are but weak echoes of the
mightier and abiding voice which is His. " The Master saith 1 " But where ? Hath
His voice a local habitation and a name f Doth He reach me through the channel
of my senses, or how doth He touch my living spirit ? It is here that " the Master
saith 1 " — even now. These poor temples of ours, they are for the most part
but shapeless structures of stone and lime, yet they are clothed with the spiritual
and unfading beauty of a Divine guest-chamber ; a voice which is not my voice
overpowers my struggling will, subdues by gentle and beautiful processes my efforts
to make my own will my law and arbiter of duty, and speaks through me. And
most of all is it of infinite moment to know that there is one called " Master,"
and who does speak. This is what I need to know and feel. In Jesus of Nazereth
life and duty are reconciled. In Him I recognize the Master whom I need. To
Him, in whom gentleness was so perfectly blended with strength, I come, craving
to touch but the hem of His garment, contented in that I have seen my Lord.
♦' The Master saith ! " If His voice is the voice of an authority, sublimely enforced
through self-denial, patience, gentleness, suffering, and death, why should I crave
more ? Shall I not say. It is enough ; He calleth me, and I must answer ? He bids
me arise, and I must arise. For me the highest virtue is obedience, for it is the
Master who saith. (J. Vickery.)
Vers. 18-21. And as they sat and did eat. — T?ie company makei the feast : — ^The
mgredients of this meal were few and simple, but the presence of Christ made it
more than roysi. It is not what men have to eat, but the company that makes a
meal delightful. Agassiz, when a young man travelling in Germany, visited Oken,
the eminent zoologist. "After I had delivered to him my letter of introduction,"
he says, " Oken asked me to dine with him. The dinner consisted only of potatoei
boiled and roasted, but it was the best dinner I ever ate, for there was Oken. The
ZXT.] 8T, MARS. 533
mind of the man seemed to enter into what we ate socially together, and I devonred
his intellect while eating his potatoes." So the presence of Christ as the realized
embodiment of the Passover, and His Diviue discourse, made that Paschal meal
the most memorable ever eaten. It is a feast, moreover, whose solemn delight is a
perpetual heritage of the Christian Church. Christ made it so by erecting upon it
the sacrament of His supper, the equivalent in the new kingdom of God to the
Passover in the old, and making its recurring celebration, there enjoined, the means
of preserving the memory of all that then transpired. {A. H. Currier.) The bad
among the good : — 1. In the holiest society on earth, the unholy may have a place.
2. The highest goodness may fail to win to the obedience of faith. 3. There may
be moral wrong without present consciousness. 4. The knowledge and appointment
of God do not hinder the freedom and responsibility of man. {J. H. Godwin.)
The treachery of Judas foretold : — I. A fearful announcement. Christ had already
more than once predicted that He would be betrayed ; but now He adds to the
intimation the terrible news that it would be by one of themselves. A little of the
horror of thick darkness which His words spread over them still pervades our hearts.
The fact is more than anything else, suggestive of all that is dark and pitiful in
human nature. It shows — 1. How measureless may be the evil a man may reach
by simply giving way to wrong. 2. No privileges, no light, no opportunity, can
bless a man without his own co-operation. 3. Privileges, if unimproved, injure the
soul. 4. Without self-surrender to God, every other religious quality and tendency
is insufficient to save the soul. Judas only lacked this one thing. 6. As the
existence of a pure soul is itself a proof and a prediction of heaven, so such a soul
seems to prove and predict a hell. II. Christ's reasons fob making this fearfitl
ANNOUNCEMENT. 1. Perhaps to cure the pride of the disciples. The announcement
that one of them will betray will help to abate their vehemence in seeking to know
♦• who shall be greatest." 2. To give Judas a glimpse of the perdition before him,
and thus awake repentance. 3. To intimate to him that, though the Saviour might
die by his craft, it was with His own knowledge and consent. {R. Glover.)
Vers. 18, 19. Shall betray Me. — The betrayal : — ^What think you, my brethren.if a
similar declaration were made in regard to ourselves ? Should we sorrowfully ask,
*• Lord, is it I ? " Should we not be more likely to ask, " Lord, is it this man ? " Lord,
is it that man?" Would not Peter be more ready to say, "Is it John?" and
John, " Is it Peter ? " than either, " Is it I ? " It is a good sign when we are less
suspicious of others than of ourselves, more mistrustful of ourselves than of others
in regard of the commission of sin ; as indeed we ought always to be, for we have
better opportunities of knowing our own proneness to evil, our own weakness, our own
deceitfulness, than we can have of that of others ; and therefore we have far more
cause to ask, ♦' Is it I?" — the question showing that we dare not answer for our-
selves,— than, " Lord, is it my neighbour ? " — the question indicating that we think
others capable of worse things than ourselves. Peter was safe when asking,
" Lord, is it I ? " but in sore danger when he exclaimed, " Although all shall be
offended because of Thee, yet will not I." I. Suppose Judas to have been aware, as
he might have been, both from ancient prophecy, and from the express declarations
of onr Lord Himself, that Jesus, if He were indeed the Christ, must be delivered to
His enemies, and ignominiously put to death — might he not, then, very probably
say to himself, " After all, I shall only be helping to accomplish what has been
determined by God, and what is indispensable to the work which Messiah has
undertaken? " I do not know any train of thought which is more likely to have
presented itself to the mind of Judas than this. *' The Son of man goeth as it is
written of Him." Bat this determination, this certainty, left undiminished the
guiltiness of the parties who put Christ to death. They obeyed nothing but the
suggestions of their own wilful hearts ; they were actuated by nothing but their
desperate malice and hatred of Jesus, when they accomplished prophecies and ful-
filled Divine decrees. Therefore was it no excuse for them that they were only
bringing to pass what had long before been ordained. The whole burden of the
crime rested upon the crucifiers, however true it was that Christ must be crucified.
It did not make Judas turn traitor that God foreknew his treason, and determined
to render it subservient to His own almighty ends. God, indeed, knew that Judas
would betray his Master, but God's knowing it did not conduce to his doing it It
was certain, but the foreknown wickedness of the man causes the certainty, and not
the fore-ordained performance of the deed. Oh I the utter vanity of the thoughti
that God ever places us onder a necessity of sinning, or that beoaase our sins may
^ ^ i tt§i^i.,i,^^ $X
584 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chip. jxw.
turn to His glory they will not issue in our shame. IL And now let us glance at
another delusion to which it is likely that Judas gave indulgence. This is the
delusion as to the consequences, the punishment of sin, being exaggerated or
over-stated. It may be that Judas could hardly persuade himseU that a being so
beneficent as Christ would ever wholly lay aside the graciousness of His nature,
-and avenge a wrong done by surrendering thn doer to intense and interminable
anguish. But, in all the range of Scripture, there is not, perhaps, a passage which
seie itself so decisively against this delusion as the latter clause of our Saviour's
iddress in the text — "It had been good for that man if he had not been bom."
There is nothing in the Bible which gives me so strong an idea of the utter moral
I'.ariiness in which a man is left who is forsaken by the Spirit of God, as the fact
that Judas's question, "Lord, is it I?" followed immediately on Christ's saying,
" Woe unto that man by whom the Son of man is betrayed ; '* and that his going
forth to fill his accursed compact with the priests was on the instant of his having
been told that Christ knew him for the traitor. I pause on the word " then," and
I am tempted to ask, could it, oh ! could it have been "then?" Yes, "then" it
was that, with the words, " It had been good for that man if he had not been bom,"
— ^words vocal of an eternity of unimagined woe — then it was that, with these
words rung out to him as the knell of his own doomed spirit, Judas proceeded to
address Christ with a taunting and insolent inquiry, and then went out to accom-
plish the traitorous purpose which had called forth the tremendous denunciation.
With what earnestness should we join in that prayer in the Liturgy, ♦' Take not
Thy Holy Spirit from us ! '' (H. Melvill, B.D.) Judaa arid the disciplei : — There
will be many that were gallant professors in this world wanting among the saved
in the day of Christ's coming ; yea, many whose damnation was never dreamed of.
Which of the twelve ever thought that Judas would have proved a devil ? Nay, when
Christ suggested that one among them was naught, they each were more afiiaid of
themselves than of him. {Bunyan.) Jvdas as he appeared to the other apottUi : —
You will observe that the character of Judas was openly an admirable one. I find
not that he committed himself in any way. Not the slightest speck defiled his
moral character so far as others oould perceive. He was no boaster, like Peter ; he
was free enough from the rashness which cries, " Though all men should forsake
Thee, yet will not I." He asks no place on the right hand of the throne, his am-
bition is of another sort. He does not ask idle questions. The Judas who asks
questions is " not Iscariot." Thomas and Philip are often prying into deep matters,
but not Judas. He receives truth as it is taught him, and when others are offended
and walk no more with Jesus, he faithfully adheres to Him, having golden reasons
for so doing. He does not indulge in the lusts of the flesh or in the pride of life.
None of the disciples suspected him of hypocrisy; they said at the table, " Lord, is
it I ? " They never said . " Lord, is it Judas ? " It was true he had been filching for
months, but then he did it by littles, and covered his defalcations so well by
financial manipulations that he ran no risk of detection from the honest unsuspect-
ing fishermen with whom he associated. {C. H. Spurgeon.) Judas unsuspected
to the last : — A secret sin works insidiouflly, but with wondrous quiet power. Its
hidden ravages are awful, and the outward revelation of their rest^t and existence
may be contemporaneous. Until that revelation was made, probably no one erw
suspected the presence in the man of anything but a few venial faults which were
OS mere excrescences on a robust character, though these growths were something
rude. Oftentimes a large fungus will start from a tree, and in some mysterious
manner will sap the life-power on the spot on which it grows. They were like that
fungus. When the fungus falls in the autumn, it leaves scarcely a trace of its
presence, the tree being apparently as healthy as before the advent of the parasite.
But the whole character of the wood has been changed by the strange power of the
fungus, being soft and cork-Uke to the touch. Perhaps the parasite may fall in the
autumn, and the tree may show no symptoms of decay ; but at the first tempest it
may have to encounter, the trunk snaps off at the spot where the fungus has been,
and the extent of the injury is at once disclosed. As long as any portion of that
tree retains life, it will continue to throw out these destructive fungi ; and even
when a mere stump is left in the ground, the fungi will push themBelvea ont in
profusion. {Scientific Illustrations and Symbols.) The treason of Judas fore-
shoum by Christ : — I. The first is, the fact spxcinxD. *' The Son of man iff betrayed
to be crucified." Do any ask, as those of old did, "Who is this Son of manf "
This Son of man is none other than the very person, of whom the apostle spake M
possessing in Himself " the great mystery of godliness ; " He is " C^ manifest iv
IT.J 8T. MARK, §85
the flesh." There is, first, the heinous character of the traitor that betrayed Him ;
secondly, the importance of hunting out and exposing the imitators of his black
deed in the present day — and, God helping me, I mean to be faithful here ; and
then, in the third place, the sufferings of Him who was betrayed and crucified. Let
me invite you to pray over tbese three things. 1. The heinousness of the traitor.
He had made a glaring profession. He had attached himself to the disciples of
Christ ; he had become a member of the purest Church that ever was formed upon
earth — the immediate twelve around our Lord. He was looked up to, a leading man.
I beseech you, weigh this solemn fact — for a solemn one it is— that neither pro-
fession, nor diligent exertion, nor high standing among professors, so as to be
beyond even suspicion, will stand in the stead of vital godliness. And there may
be Juda^es even now, and I believe there are not a few, that are as much un-
suspected as Judas Iscariot was. So artful was his deception, that none of the
disciples suspected him. Nay more ; the first feature of his character that is
developed, the first view we have of him in his real character, is, that he was the
last to suspect himself. All the others had said, "Lord, is it I? " — and last of all,
Judas drawls it out, " Master, is it I? " Yet after all the standing he gained, after
all the miracles he -^ibserved, aftei cill the attacbment he professed, this wretch, for
thirty pieces of silver, is content to betray his Lord. Ah 1 only put a money bait in
the way of the Judases, and you soon find them out ; that will find them out, if
nothing else will. Of course. His enemies are glad to have Him seized ; but who
would believe it possible, especially among those who have such a high opinion of
the dignity of human nature, that this wretch, after eating and drinking with Christ,
after following Him all His ministry through, can go and betray Him with a kisa ?
can say, in the very act of betraying Him, " Hail, Master ? " — carrying on his devilism
to the last. 2. But I want a word of interrogation with regard to imitators or
Judas in the present day. Have you thrown "the bag" away? Have you done
with carnal objects and pursuits? Do you scorn the idea of marketing about
Christ, and selling Him — bartering Him ? Are you really and honestly concerned
about the truth of Christ, the interests of His cause, the purity of His gospel, the
•acredness of His ordinances ? Oh 1 try, try these matters. I would not for the
world have a single masked character about me, of the Judas-like breed. 3. Let
me now invite your attention for a moment to the other point — the sufferings of
this betrayed and murdered Lord. *• The Son of man is betrayed to be crucified."
Ib not this enough to make a man hate sin ? If you do not hate sin in its very
nature, yon have never been to Calvary, and you have never had fellowship
with a precious Christ. Wherever the blood of atonement is applied, it produces
hatred of sin: oh that you and I may live upon Calvary, until every sin
shall be mortified, subdued, and kept under, and Christ reign supreme!
II. I pass on to the second feature in our subject: the ofticial announce-
ment OK THIS FACT BY THK SuFFEBEB HiMSELF. III. I pass on to the third
particular of our subject — the result. "The Son of man is betrayed to bo
crucified ; " but the matter did not end there. " The Son of man is betrayed to be
crucified ; " and then the powers of darkness have done their worst. " The Son of
man is betrayed to be crucified ; " and even death shall lose its sting, hell shali
lOM its terrors for all Mine elect, Jehovah shall get the glory of His own name, and
I ihall go throogh the valley of the shadow of death to My exaltation. To be brief,
I will just name three things as the result anticipated ; for you know it is said,
that " for the joy that was set before Him, He endured the cross." And what was it ?
The redeemed to be emancipated ; Christ to be exalted; and heaven to be opened and
peopled. These are the results ; and I said, when I gave yon l^e plan of my sermon,
that He should not be disappointed in any of them; nor shall He. {J. Irons, D.D.)
Treachery to Christ : — Wrongs and indignities may be offered to Christ still, in
sundry ways. 1. In His person. By vilifying Him, as do Turks, Jews, and
heathen. Also, when any deny or oppose His Nature — either the Godhead or the
Manhood, as do heretics. Also, when any profane the blood of Christ, by re-
maining unrepentant, or turning apostate. 2. In His office, as Mediator ; putting
any person or thing in His place. 8. In His names or titles ; using them profanely.
4. In His saints and faithful members ; wronging or abusing them. 5. In His
messengers and ministers (Luke x. 16). 6. In His holy ordinances ; the Word,
sacraments, <fto. (1 Cor. xi. 27). By this we may examine whether the love to
Christ which we profess is true and sincere. Does this child love his father, or
that servant his master, who can hear him abused and reproached? {Oewg^
Petter.) Latent possibilities of evil: — There is latent evil lurking in all our
•86 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. xxt.
hearts, of which we are not aware ourselves. We do not know how many devils of
selfishness, sense, and falsehood are hiding themselves in the mysterious depths of
our souls. If we do not learn this through that noble Christian humility which
*' still suspects and still reveres itself," we must learn it through the bitter experience
of failure and open sin. How many examples there are to prove the existence oi
this latent evil 1 We have seen a young man go from the pure home of his child-
hood, from the holy influences of a Christian community. As an infant his brow
had been touched with the water of baptism amid the prayers of the Church ; as a
child his feet had been taught the way to the house of God; in his home his
parents had prayed for him that he might be an honest and useful man, whether
he was to be poor or rich, learned or ignorant. He leaves his home and comes to
the city to engage in business. He trusts in his own heart, in his own upright
purpose, in his own virtuous habits. But there is latent evil in his heart, there ifl
a secret selfishness, which is ready to break out under the influences which will
now surround him. He becomes a lover of pleasure; he attends balls and
theatres ; he rides out with gay companions : he acquires a taste for play, wine, and
excitement. He determines to make money that he may indulge these new tastes^
and he devotes all his energies to this pursuit. In a year or two, how far has he
gone from the innocent hopes and tastes of his childhood? His serene brow is
furrowed with worldly lines ; his pure eye clouded with licentious indulgence. The
latent evil that was in him has come out under the test of these new circumstances.
. . . The moral of it all is, " Keep thy heart with all diligence, for out of it are the
issues of life." But how can we keep our heart ? We can keep our hands, by an
effort, from wrong actions, and force them to do right ones. We can keep our lips
from saying unkind or hasty words, though that is sometimes hard enough. But
how keep our heart ? How make ourselves a right spirit, a good temper ? That
seems simply impossible. How direct those tendencies which are hidden even from
ourselves ? Here, it seems to me, is the place and need of religion. If it be true
that our soul lies open inwardly to God, and that we rest on Him, then is it not
possible, is it not probable, that if we put our heart into His hands He will guide
it ? And the experience of universal man, in all ages, all countries, all religions,
teaches this value of prayer. It is taught by Socrates and Seneca, no less tl^n by
Jesus Christ. Here is the place of religion : this is its need. We do not need to
pray to God for what we can do ourselves. But what we cannot do for ourselves is
to guide and keep and direct this hidden man of the heart. We have a right to
come boldly to God for this ; asking His spirit, and expecting to receive it. This
is a promise we can trust in, that God will give His Holy Spirit to those who ask
Him. {J. Freeman Clarke.) The question that went round the table .-—I. Look
AT TH» QUESTION, " Lord, is it I ? " II. Look at this question in connection with
THE BEMABK THAT CALLED IT FOBTH. What did Judas Sell Chrfst for ? The old
German story reports that the astrologer Faustus sold his soul to the evil one for
twenty-four years of earthly happiness. What was the bargain in this case ? The
auctioneer had tempting lists to show ; what was it that tempted Judas f He sold
his Lord for thirty somethings. What things ? Thirty years of right over all the
earth, with all the trees of the forests, all the fowls of the mountains, and the cattle
upon a thousand hills ? For thirty armies ? Or thirty fleets ? Thirty stars ?
Thirty centuries of power, to reign majestically on hell's burning throne? No, for
thirty shillings 1 III. Look at the question in connection with the simple
UNSUSPECTING BROTHEBUNESS IT BEVEALED IN THOSE TO WHOM IT WAS SPOKEN. When
Christ's declaration was made, " One of you shall betray Me," it would not have
been wonderful, judging by a common standard, if such words as these had passed
through various minds— ''It is Judas ; I always thought him the black sheep of
the fold ; I never liked his grasp of that bag ; I never liked the mystery of that
missing cash ; I never liked the look of him; I never liked his fussy whisper." No
such thoughts were in open or secret circulation. The disciples already ex-
emplified the principle, and carried in their hearts the Divine music of the
language, "Love suffereth long, and is kind ... is not easily provoked, thinketb
no evil ; rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth ; beareth all things,
belie veth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things." With lips that were
tremulous, and cheeks that were blanched, each one said, not, " Lord, is it he f "
but, "Lord, is it I?" IV. Look at this question in connection with thk feab
FOB HiMSELP, shown BY EVERY ONE WHO ASKED IT. A pieaohcr in a certain viUage
church once gave easy lessons in Christian ethics through a scheme of illustration
taken from the letters of the alphabet. Rebuking his hearers for their readiness t«
OBAP. XIV.] ST. MARK. 687
epeak evil of their neigbbonrs, he said that, regarding each letter of the alphabet
as the initial letter of a name, they had something to say against all the letters,
with one exception. His homily was to this effect. ** You say, A lies, B steals,
C swears, D drinks, F brags, G goes into a passion, H gets into debt. The letter I
is the only one of which you have nothing to say." No rustics can require such
elementary education more tlian do some keen leaders of society. Pitiless detectors
of sin in others, begin at home. Think first of that which is represented by the
letter I. It is a necessary word, for you can never get beyond it, never do without
it, while you live, or when you die. It is a deep word, for who can sound the sea
of its deep significance f It is an important word, for of all words which can
lighten as with their flash, or startle us with their blow, there is no more important
word to us than this. Who is there? "I." Who are you? Conjure up this
mystery — this "you," symbolized by the letter *• I." Face it, speak to it, challenge
it, and know if all is right with it. If indeed you can say, ♦• I am a Christian " ;
«* I believe, help, Lord, mine unbelief ; " "I live, yet not I, but Christ liveth in me ; "
still you feel that two natures for the present war within you, and have need to
offer Augustine's prayer, " Lord, deliver me from the wicked man, myself." When
the wind is rising, and the waves are treacherous, it is good for each man to look to
his own ship, to his own ropes, to his own sails ; not first to stand and speculate on
the seaworthiness of other ships. V. Look at this question in connection with
THE LOVE that WORKED IN THE HEART OF THE QUESTIONER. Not OnC of them CVCr
knew before how much he loved his Lord, but this shock brought the love out.
VI. Look at this question in connection with the answer to it. " Thou hast
said." You can read what is on the open page, Jesus can look through the lids of
the book, and read off the sheet — in print. You can see the whited sepulchre; He
can see the skeleton within. You can see the fair appearance, He can see the wolf
under the borrowed fleece. You can see the body. He can see the soul. Now the
secret had come to light, as one day all secrets will. YII. Look at this question
in other possible applications. "One of you will go out of this place a lost
spirit." " Lord, is it I f " "One of you, having refused the Divine love before,
will refuse it again 1 '* " Lord, is it I f " " One of you will go out with a harder
heart than when he oame in." "Lord, is it IT" " One of you, a waverer now,
will be a waverer still." " Lord, is it I ? " ** One of you, now almost persuaded to
be a Christian, will still remain only almost persuaded." *♦ Lord, is it I ? " " One
of you, already a true disciple, will refuse, as you have refused before, to confess
your faith 1 " " Lord, is it I P " Let us think, on the other hand, of certain happy
possibilities in the fair use of these words. There will come a time, beyond what
we now call time, when, in the rapture of immortality, and in the language of
heaven, you will say, " Have I in reality come through death ? Am I on the other
side ? Can it be that I am glorified at last f This, so wonderful beyond language
to express, so bright beyond the most enchanted fancy to picture, what is it ? Is it
solid ? Or is it a glory of dreamland ? I used to sin, I used to be slow, I used to be
weary, I used to have dim eyes, and dull ears 1 Now I see 1 Now I love I Now I can
fly like the light 1 Lord, is it I?" {Charles Stanford, D.D.) The history of Jtidas :—
Of Judas this fearful sentence is uttered by the Lord. I. But before entering into
the particulars of his history, a few general remarks are pertinent. 1. There
ia no evidence that Judas Iscariot was a man of bad countenance. Most men are
much influenced by looks, and many think they can tell a man's character by the
physiognomy. This may often be true, but there are many exceptions. 2; There
is no evidence that, up to his betrayal of his Lord, his conduct was the subject of
censure, complaint, jealousy, or of the slightest suspicion. His sins were all con<
cealed from the eyes of mortals. He was a thief, but that was known only to
Omniscience. 3* There is no evidence that, during his continuance with Christ, he
regarded himself as a hypocrite. Doubtless he thought himself honest. 4. Let it
not be supposed that Judas ought not to have known his character. He shut his
eyes to the truth respecting himself. The aggravations of the sin of betraying
Christ were many and great. The traitor was eminent in place, in gifts, in office,
in profession ; a guide to others, and one whose example was likely to influence
many. H. The lessons taught us by the life and end of Judas are such as
these — 1. Though wicked men do not so intend, yet in all cases they shall certainly
glorify God by all their misdeeds (Psa. Ixxvi. 10). The wickedness of Judas wab
by God over-ruled to bring about the most important event in man's salvation.
The wicked now hate God, but they cannot defeat Him. 2. Nor shall God'i
nnfftiling purpose to bring good out of evil abate aught of the gmlt of those wh«
588 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. xnr«
work iniquity (Acts ii. 28 ; iv. 27, 28). 8. From the history of Jndas we also learn
that when a man is once fairly started in a career of wickedness, it is impossible to
tell where he may stop. In the next world surprise awaits aU the impenitent.
4. All men should especially beware of covetousness (1 Tim. vi. 10). 6. Did men
but know how bitter would be the end of transgression, they would at least pause
before they plunge into all evil. Oh 1 that men would hear the warning words of
Richard Baxter, " Use sin as it will use you : spare it not, for it will not spare you ;
it is your murderer and the murderer of the world. Use it, therefore, as a
murderer should be used." 6. How small a temptation to sin will at last prevail
over a vicious mind. For less than twenty dollars Judas sold his Lord and
Master. Those temptations commonly esteemed great are not the most sure to
prevail. 7. Nothing prepares a man for destruction faster than hypocrisy or
formality in actions of a religious nature. The three years which Judas spent in
the family of our Lord probably exceeded all the rest of his life in ripening him
for destruction. We should never forget that official character is one thing, and
moral character another thing. All official characters may be sustained without
any real grace in the heart. 8. The history of Judas shows us how man will cling
to false hopes. There is no evidence that during years of hypocrisy he ever
seriously doubted his own piety. 9. If men thus self-confident forsake their pro-
fession, and openly apostatize, we need not be surprised. 10. Thus, too, we have
a full refutation of the objection made to a connection with the visible church
because there are wicked men in her communion. The apostles certainly knew
that among them was one bad man ; but they did not therefore renounce their
portion among Christ's professed friends. 11. How difficult it is to bring home
truth to the deceitful heart of man. Hypocrites are slow to improve close, dis-
criminating preaching. They desire not to look into their real characters. 12. The
case of Judas discloses the uselessness of that sorrow of the world which worketh
death, hath no hope in it, and drives the soul to madness. It is not desperation,
but penitence, that God requires. Regrets without hatred of sin are useless, both
on earth and in hell. {W. S. Plumer, D.D.) Terrible result of the secret working
of sin .-—There once sailed from the city of New Orleans a large and noble
steamer, laden with cotton, and having a great number of passengers on board.
While they were taking in the cargo, a portion of it became slightly moistened by a
shower of rain that fell. This circumstance, however, was not noticed ; the cotton
was stowed away in the hold, and the hatches fastened down. During the first part
of the voyage all went well ; but, far out towards the middle of the Atlantic ocean,
all on board were one day alwrmed by the fearful cry of " Fire 1 " and in a few
moments the noble ship was completely enveloped in flames. The damp and
closely-packed cotton had become heated ; it smouldered away, and got into a more
dangerous state every day, until at last it burst out into a broad sheet of flame, and
nothing could be done to stop it. The passengers and crew were compelled to take
to the boats ; but some were suffocated and consumed in the fire, and many more
were drowned in the sea. Now, the heated cotton, smouldering in the hull of that
vessel, is like sin in the heart of a man. All the while it is working away
according to its own nature, but no one perceives it or knows anything about it.
The man himself may wear a smiling face ; he may in appearance be making the
voyage of life smoothly ; he may seem to be happy. His family and friends may
see nothing wrong about him; he may see nothing wrong about himself. But the
evil spirit within may be growing stronger and stronger, and spreading wider and
wider, until, in an unexpected moment, it breaks out into some awful deed of
wickedness, which in former days would have made him start back with horror.
Beware, then, of this fatal cheat. '* Take heed," as the apostle says in another
place, " lest any of you be hardened by the deceitfulness of sin." It may smile
bewitohingly before your eyes ; it may promise the most grateful sweetness to your
taste. But, oh ! put no trust in it ; at the last it will bite like a serpent and sting
like an adder. (Edgar Woods,)
Vers. 22-24. Jesus took bread.— TA« symbols of ChrisVs body :— L Lit vb olanob
kt TBS OOSPKL FSAST, A8 BXHIBITXI) TO OUB VIEW IN OCB PBBIOniOAIi APPBOAOH TO
THB TABLE ov THB LoBD. What IS it that we are to feast upon f What is it of
which Jehovah Jesus says — •♦ This is My Body, and this is My Blood " f It is
His own Person — ^the glorious, perfect, complete God-Man. It is His redemption
work, accomplished and perfected by Himself, which constitutes the gospel-feast.
1. The redemption which constitutes good for our souls is perfect. Christ has not
nr.) ST. HARK, 689
done His work by halves. He has not left His work in an nnfinished state. 2.
Moreover, the redemption that is in Jesus Christ is personal ; and if it be not so,
there is no eating of it. If you come to a meal, to make it personal, you must
participate; you must receive for yourself. 3. Moreover, it is a permanent
jredemption. II. Let mb pass on to notick the ordained guests. He took and
brake it, and gave to them — His disciples. I do not believe that Judas was there at
that moment, though some people do. I shall not stop to argue that point, however.
There are two things, and only two things, essential to a welcome guest. The first
is, vital godliness, as an essential qualification ; and the second is, the imputed
righteousness of Christ as the essential robe. III. Let me now pbess on to
8PEAK or THE OBTHODOX VIANDS THAT WE EXPECT TO FEAST UPON, OF WHICH MY
PBECI0U8 Lord says — " Take, eat, this is My Body, and this is My Blood." The
sacrificed Lamb is the great feast itself. This was ordered under the Levitical
dispensation every morning and evening — a lamb to be sacrificed and presented to
the Lord — the lamb of the Passover ; and the same sacred emblem, pointing to the
precious Christ of God, is declared to be the Lamb slain from the foundation of
tiie world ; and just such persons as I have been describing were welcome to
partake of it. This feasting on the Lamb, the atoning Blood, the perfect satisfac-
tion, and the sacred acceptance thereof, is announced by God Himself as a thing
with which He is well pleased ; and the soul that is under the teaching and the
operation of the Holy Ghost can find nothing to feast upon short of It. If
I go to some places I have nothing but a dinner of poisonous herbs : I mean
the beauties of rhetoric, the eloquence of the creature, heathenish morality, and
nothing to profit the precious soul that is bom from above. The believer is able
to do what the Israelites were commanded to do : he is able to eat a whole lamb ;
he is able to partake of a whole Christ. So we may well say again, *' having
Christ, I possess all things.'* Do not talk to me of feeding upon frames and
feelings, and groping amongst "ifs" and "huts," and •* per ad ventures," and
probabilities, and contingencies, and conditions and uncertainties — they are
enough to make all the people of God like Pharaoh's lean kine, if they do not
Absolutely starve them to death. IV. Let mb mow lead on youb attention to the
Masteb'b wobds — "This is My body," and "This is My Blood of the New
Testament, which is shed for many." Mark, I beseech you, that this saored
gospel feast is intended to nourish not the fleshly, but the spiritual existence.
{Joseph Irons, M.A.) The emnmunion service ;— It is hardly necessary to remark,
that almost every transaction of human life has its appropriate ceremony, its
established order and process. In our most familiar intercourse we have onr
known forms of salutation. The system is natural in its origin, and beneficial in
its effects. In religion above all other subjects, established forms are valuable.
They fix attention on the duties which we assemble to perform. They give its due
solemnity to the most interesting of all human concerns. They impress more
deeply the sentiments of piety on the heart. They support uniformity and
sympathy in the public worship of God. Would it not then be unwise and
ungrateful if we did not commemorate by some appropriate ceremony the most
important transaction of the gospel, the sacrifice and death of Jesus Christ. Such
has been prescribed by Him who had the undoubted right to prescribe it, the
Author of that religion, which it is intended to support. The fitness and propriety
of a commemoration appointed by such authority will not be called in question.
L ThX MEMOBY of THB most INTEBEBTINO events is APT TO FADE FBOM THE
MIND, UNLESS OCCASIONALLY REVIYBD BY BEFLECTIOM ON THEIB BESPECTIVB CIB-
CUMSTANCES, OB BY SOME SUITABLE AND BEOULAB COMMEMORATION. EvOU the
sentiments of friendship require to be kept alive by tokens of regard. The
disciples had seen the miracles of Christ. From the minds of those who had not
seen them, at the distance of almost two thousand years, the genuine religion of
the gospel might have been lost, had it not been cherished by the ordinances of
the Church. U. Befobb thb pitblioation of the gospel to the wobld, thb
HATXTEB OF XVEBY HSATHBH RATION HAD THEIB BESPECTIVa OFFERINGS TO THEIB
eoDS. They knew not from what authority their sacrifices were derived. They
did but imperfectly understand the meaning of the ceremonies of their own
worship. Their expectations were limited almost to temporal advantage. When
we partake the sacrament we unite in an act of worship, of which we know the
aathority, intention, and benefit. HI. Thb saobifioxs of thv heathens, and
tHB FXBTIVAUI that FOLLOWED THEM, WEBB USUALLY ATTENDED WITH OBUELTT TO
IHOFfBNBITI ANIMAU, DISaBAOSO BY DOfOBAL PBAOTIGBB, AND PBBFOBMXD AS
590 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. n?.
BXTiKous EXPENSE. The sacrifioes of the Jews were designed to typify one efficaciona
sacrifice of the Bedeemer of the world. Our sacrament is not the sacrifice itsell
It is only the festival after it ; commemorating the sacrifice, and urging our claims
to the benefits, which it was intended to convey. By the prudent regulations of
our Church no indecent excess can disgrace this act of our worship. The exhorta-
tions to repentance, faith, and charity are Scriptural. lY. The last recommendation
of our ceremonies at the sacrament is the fitness and propriety of the bub-
stances EMPLOYED ON THAT SOLEMN OCCASION. From the wisdom and goodness of
Him who prescribed them this was to be expected. Instead of the slaughter of
animals, select and perfect, but within the reach of the poor ; — instead of incense
and spices which are only found in a few favoured regions of the earth, and which
when found are more costly than appropriate, our Saviour has directed us to employ
the simple elements of bread and wine ; produced in every country ; which may be
obtamed without delay or difficulty. These elements are fit emblems of the
benefits to be derived from the solemnity ; nay, " the strengthening and refreshing
of our souls by the Body and Blood of Christ." {W. Barrow, LL.D.) The Lord's
supper: — ^I. The Bbbai>. This signifies our need of spiritual food from Christ.
We have a spiritual life within, as real as the physical life, and needing just as
much a constant supply of nourishment. When General Grant took the Federal
army at Chattanooga it was feeble and dispirited because it was almost destitute.
The food of the army was hauled with difficulty over mountain roads and the
supply was totally insufficient. His first movement, on assuming command — and
it was that which eventually led to victory, — was to repair the railroads and open
up conununication, so that the army soon had everything it needed. There is a
like necessity in the spiritual life of Christ's army. We are worth very little in
the service of Christ, except as we are spiritually nourished. The soul is easily
starved by lack of appropriate food. And our spiritual nourishment must come
from Christ. II. The bread was blessed by Christ. The significance of this
act was that God the Father was recognized as having a part in the work of the
Son. III. The bread is bboken by Christ. Why is this ? Here is a reminder
of the sufferings of Christ. " This," said Christ, " is My Body which is broken for
you." The broken bread is designed to bring to our minds His sacrificial work.
And it is worthy of remark that our Lord broke the bread Himself. He did not
delegate this to another. So did Christ voluntarily surrender Himself to death.
" Therefore," He affirms in one place, "doth the Father love Me, because I lay
down My life, that I might take it again. No one taketh it away from Me, but I
lay it down of Myself. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take ii
again." There is a peculiar value in the sacrifice of Christ, in the fact that He
was not forced to it. All He did and suffered was voluntary. It was because He
loved OS. It was in the infinite tenderness of His heart that He became our
Saviour. IV. The bread was distributed to the disciples by Christ. Here
is suggested our complete dependence on Christ for salvation. V. The second
part of this symbol. The use of the cup, as well as the bread, gives the idea of
completeness. The two necessities for life are food and drink. When both are
given there is fulness in the provision. The spiritual food symbolized in the
supper covers all the needs of the soul. He who has Christ has what causes want
to cease. 2. The doubling of the symbol also serves for emphasis. Thus Elisha,
Hannah, and Job received double portions, that is, an unusual amount. 3.
There is also climax. The giving of the cup presents not only the old thought
suggested in the giving of the bread, but something more, which is even more
important. VI. The cup. The cup is symbolic of the Blood of Christ ; and the
blood of life. The juice of the grape, as it is violently pressed from the grape and
procured by the grape's destruction, fittingly represents the Blood of Christ poured
out for us. VII. Eating the bread and drinking the cup. Our Saviour's directions
to His disciples regarding the Supper were very simple. They were, " Take, eat."
" Drink ye all of it." And the one hint our Saviour gave as to the meaning of
this reception of the Supper was in His words : ** This do in remembrance of Me."
To this the apostle added the inspired comment : " For as often as ye eat this
bread and drink this cup, ye proclaim the Lord's death till He come." From this
language several things are plain. We are taught that our eating the bread and
driiddng the cap is a confession of Christy a pledge to serve our Lord, and an act
of fellowship as Christians. But it is, above all, a reception of Christ by faith.
Oar yery act of taking the bread 3nnbolizes the way in whidi we are to be benefited l^
Christ. We ean not have Christ except as we open our hearts to Him. We are to
[IV.] 8T. MARK. 691
give Him lovisg welcome. We are to rejoice in Him and accept Him, just as we
do the food for the body, in the assurance that He will build us up in life and
health. We must cherish the thought of Christ with the same loyalty with which
we cherish earthly friendships. We remember earthly friends when they are out
of our sight, recognizing their interests and rights, keeping ourselves in proper
attitude towards them, and allowing no one else and nothing else to come between
them and us in such way as to make us forgetful of them or indifferent towards
them. The mother of Professor Louis Agassiz lived in Switzerland. In her
beautiful old age Professor Silliman and wife called upon her and were charmed
with her character. The morning they were leaving Switzerland she met them,
and giving them a bunch of pansies said, with a beautiful play upon words,
speaking of course in the French language : " Tell my son that my thoughts {mes
pensies) are all for him, they are all for him." Now this is the way we should
feel towards Christ. If we give Him all our heart, all our thoughts, we are
communing with Him, we are receiving Him to ourselves, as He desires. As the
elements of the Supper are taken into our system, so do we receive Christ into
our souls. {Addison P. Foster.) Sacrament of the Lord^s Supper : — Because the
sacraments of the gospel are only two in number, it has sometimes been thought that
they must be ordinances of minor importance. No mistake can be greater, or more
calculated to depreciate the value of these divinely-appointed ordinances, which, from
their very fewness, as well as from having received Christ's explicit command, should
receive the Christdan's stricterest gard. The passage before us leads to inquiries re-
specting the meaning and design of this great sacrament. I. The belatioxs in which
Chbist herb pbesbnts Himself to His disciples. 1. Propitiation. The object of the
Lord's Supper is not to commemorate Jesus as a Teacher, though in this He was
unlike any other ; nor to perpetuate the memory of His example, although His was
the only perfect one ever afforded. It is, to keep constantly in mind that He who
was the one illustrious Teacher, and the only perfect Exemplar, employing these
together with His incarnate Deity, to add efficacy to the offering, yielded up His
life a sacrifice for sinners. 2. The whole benefit of His death is available to those
for whom He died. All He did is placed to our credit. II. The belations which
Ghbistians by recbiviko this SA.CBAMENT ASSUME TowABDS Chbist. 1. They coufcss
their need 6i Christ. At the Holy Table supply and demand meet. Christ proffering
and the disciple needing forgiveness, and all the attendant blessings purchased by
His blood. 2. They confess their personal faith in Christ. At the Lord's Table
disciples individually appropriate Christ's work to themselves. By receiving Christ
they gain inward strengthening. 3. They consecrate themselves to Christ. Eating
at His Table, they proclaim themselves His friends, and consent to His claims as
their Saviour and Lord. Christ there enters into covenant with them, and they
with Him. HI. The belations nrro which by this sacbament Christians abk
bbought towabd each othbb. 1. Brotherhood. The bond which unites disciples
to the Master links them to each other. 2. Love. lU-will is banished by the very
desire to sit with Christ at this feast, and in its warm and sacred atmosphere
animosities can no more exist than an iceberg in the gulf stream. (P. B. Davis.)
Holy Communion : — Picture the scene : our Lord's last night on earth — He fully
aware of it — the Paschal supper, conmiemorative (through fifteen centuries) of the
deliverance of Israel from Egypt — our Lord surrounded by twelve persons, one of
whom He knew to be His betrayer, and who went out from this meal to execute
his purpose— our Lord full of thoughts, not for Himself, but for them, and in this
instance leaving them something to do for Him when He was gone. Holy Com-
munion is — I. The commemobation of the death or Chbist, and of all contaikxd
AKD IMPLIED IN THAT DEATH (1 CoT. xi. 26). In that act of worship we express
our faith in (1) the fact, (2) the intention, (3) the efficacy of the death (as the com-
pletion of the earthly life, and as the prelude to the resurrection life) of Christ,
very God and very man. H. A token of the man neb in which alonx oub
sPXBirnAL LIFE IS maintained. The bread and wine are not merely gazed upon,
but eaten and drunk ; and that in church, as a religious act. This would be, not
merely unprofitable, but irreverent also, if there were not a deep meaning in it.
The key is John vi., which expresses in words the same truth the sacrament ex-
presses in act. If we are to have life through Christ, it must be, not merely by
hearing of Him, or contemplating Him as an external object, but by receiving Hitp
into heart and soul as by a process of spiritual digestion. IH. The chief oppob-
tunity of so eiebcisino and maintaining the spibitual lite (1 Cor. x. 16 ; Matt
xxvi. 26-28). Application : 1. Form a high estimate of this ordinance. It is what
599 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [cBMr. uw,
we make it ; great or small, according aa we seek and expect mnch or little from
it. 2. But let yoor high estimate be a spiritual estimate. Beverenoe, not super-
stition. "Feed on Him, in thy heart, by faith." 3. Realize Christ's presence.
4. Make due preparation. 5. Beware of delay in becoming a communicant. 6.
Beware of coming once or twice and then ceasing. 7. Beware of becoming familiar
with the sign and not with the thing signified. {Dean Vaughan.) Importance of
the Holy Communion : — When we consider the acts of Christ on this eventful night,
we are led to see how vast is the importance given to the Holy Communion. He
puts it in juxtaposition with the Paschal supper. As an Israelite ceased to be of
Israel — became an alien and outcast from the House of God, forfeited the grace of
God and his inheritance in God — if he did not keep the Passover and partake of
the Lamb ; so He would have us learn that, in like manner, unless Christians par-
take of the Lamb of God in His New Institution, they are not members of Him,
they cut themselves off as dead branches from a vine, they lose His grace, they are
no more members of His Kingdom. (S. Baring Gould, M.A.) The Holy Com-
munion a support to the weak : — It is just because you are a sinner that you need the
help which God gives through the Eucharist. You know your own weakness ; you tell
me you are afraid of the sin of yielding to temptation after having communicated.
Yes ; but is it not almost certain that if you do not communicate you will yield ?
while, if you will only come in simple faith and trust, looking for God's blessing,
it is through the Holy Sacrament that God will give the grace and strength which
will enable you to resist the temptation and come off victor in the fight. There
was a labouring man some time since in one of our northern towns, who, owing to
some mistake, had been misinformed as to the hour of service. He came when the
Celebration of the Holy Communion was just over, and when they came out of
Church they found him waiting sadly outside. The clergyman explained how the
mistake had arisen, and expressed his sorrow for it. ♦♦ Never mind, master," said
the man ; but the poor fellow could not help adding, " only I did so build upon it."
He knew his own weakness, and his need of Divine grace and supernatural assist-
ance ; and so he was coming, not as if there was any virtue in the bare act of
coming, not as if the Sacrament itself could save him, but because he had grasped
the great truth that it is through the Sacrament that God imparts grace, and
strength^ and life to us His children, unworthy as we are of the least of His benefits.
{Prebendary Gibson, M.A.) Value of the Holy Communion : — In times of persecu-
tion men would risk their lives to get their Communions. A hundred years ago,
during the French Revolution, when religion was abolished by the French Parlia-
ment, when Sunday was done away with, the clergy were hunted into the thickets
like beasts of prey, and none might conduct or attend a service on pain of death,
did people go without this means of grace ? No 1 From time to time a messengei
hurried with a mysterious watchword from house to house ; " the black swamp,'
he would mutter, and pass on without greeting or farewell. But the personb
addressed understood him. Shortly after midnight, men and women, dressed in
dark clothes, would meet silently by the black swamp below the village, and there,
by the light of a carefully-guarded lantern, one of the homeless priests would give
the Body and Blood of the Lord to the faithful of the neighbourhood. They all
knew that at any moment, before the alarm could be given, the soldiers might be
upon them, and a volley of grape-shot might stretch them bleeding and dying on
the ground. What matter ? man might kill their body, but Jesus had said that
He would raise them up at the last day. {M. A. Lewis.) The new testament. —
Testament or Covenant : — The word is thirteen times translated "testament" in the
A. v., and twenty times " covenant." Its Hebrew equivalent properly means " cove-
nant." But its classical import is "latter will" or "testament." Neither of the trans-
lations does full justice to the unique transaction referred to. Indeed no human word
could. And to have used a Divine word would simply have been to speak an unin-
telligibility. The reference is to that arrangement or disposition of things, in virtue
of which mercy, and the possibility of true and everlasting bliss, are extended to
the sinful human race. It wfts a glorious device, culminating in the atoning sacri-
fice of the Lamb of God. »T It was a covenant, inasmuch as there is, inherent in
it, an element of reciprocity!^ God, on His part, does something. He does much.
But the blessing involved in what He does is suspended, so far as men's enjoy-
ment of it is concerned, on acquiescence on their part, or cordial acceptance, or
faith. 2. It is also of the nature of a testamentary deed. For there is involved
in it a disposition or disposal of the effects or goods which constitute the property
of God; in virtue of which disposition it is that men, who acquiesce or believe,
OUP. IIT.] ST. MARK, 593
become His " heirs." The deed is a real testament, for it is duly and solemnly
attested and testified. 3. And it is also really a last will, for it is a final expression
of the will and wish of God. (J. Morison, D.D.) The sacraments as symbols : —
The Magna Charta of British history is not a more forcible witness to our national
love of liberty, and our need of it as a condition of progress, than are these institu-
tions to the universal needs of redeemed men. Ordinances that have persisted
through innumerable and violent changes, and re-asserted themselves in the face of
gigantic efforts to suppress them, offer the strongest presumption that they are
founded on true reason and spiritual necessity : and though they may have only a
secondary and never a primary place, yet they are likely to be requisite still for the
expression and nourishment of this life of the soul. Man is not all reason and
will. He is still ensphered with sense, and dowered with imagination, and the
whole of him cannot be fed, developed, and perfected without the beneficent
ministry of symbol. Carlyle, no fanatic ritualist, says, with as much truth as
beauty, " Would'st thou plant for eternity, then plant into the deep, infinite facul-
ties of man, his fantasy and heart ; would'st thou plant for year and day, then
plant into his shallow, superficial faculties, his self-love and arithmetical under-
standing ; " and again, speaking in •' Sartor Kesartus " of " Symbols," he writes :
" Of kin to the so incalculable influences of concealment, and connected with still
greater things, is the wondrous agency of symbols. In a symbol there is conceal-
ment and yet revelation ; here, therefore, by silence and by speech acting together,
comes a double significance. And if both the speech be itself high, and the silence
fit and noble, how expressive wiU their union be ! Thus in many a painted device,
or simple seal-emblem, the commonest truth stands out to us proclaimed with quite
new emphasis." {Dr, John Clifford.) The communion service saved : — " A poor
widow sent me a dollar and thirty-three cents, in silver change, saying that it was
all she found in her dead husband's pocket-book, and she wanted to give it to God.
I told this to the children and their parents in the Church of the Ascension, in
Chicago, and they soon found a way to use this widow's mite ' for God.' They
said : • We will make a communion service of it.' So they added to it their gold
rings and pieces of jewelry, and pocket-pieces of silver, and a lady gave her dead
boy's silver cup, and so they kept on adding pieces of silver and gold till we had
enough ; and then the artist made us a very beautiful chalice and paten all of silver
and gold. Now I must tell you what came of it, and that shall be my second story.
When that dreadful fire which destroyed our churches and homes in Chicago was
seen approaching our little church, a little girl, seven years old, came with her
father to see what they could save. It was four o'clock in the morning, and there
was no light except what came from the fire. But little Louisa Enderli found the
Communion Service and saved it. She was soon lost from her father, and for four
weary miles she made her way among the crowd of people who were hurrying away
from the burning district. The wind blew the burning sand and cinders in her
eyes, and almost blinded them ; but she defended them as best she could with one
hand, and clung to her precious treasure with the other, refusing to give it up till
she had it in a place of safety. For three days she was lost from her father, she
having been sheltered and cared for by a kind German family. When her father
at last found her, she threw her arms about his neck, saying, • 0, papa, I saved
the Communion 1 I saved the Communion 1 ' But even then she could not give it
up till she had placed it safely in the rector's hand. I think that was an act of
Christian heroism worthy of the martyrs who died for their Lord's sake in the older
days." {Rev, Charles P. Dorset, rector of the Church oj the Ascension, Chicago,
Illinois.) The blood of Christ : — " The only thing I want," said a dying bishop
of our church, Bishop Hamilton, •* is to place my whole confidence more and more
perfectly in the precious blood 1 " {The Fireside Parish Almanack.) Bloodshedding
as an expression of love : — A certain Asiatic queen, departing this life, left behind
her three accomplished sons, all arrived to years of maturity. The young princes
were at strife as to who should pay the highest respect to their royal mother's
memory. To give scope for their generous contentions they agreed to meet at the
place of interment, and there present the most honourable gift they knew how to
devise, or were able to procure. The eldest came, and exhibited a sumptuous
monument, consisting of the richest materials, and ornamented with the most
exquisite workmanship. The second ransacked all the beauties of the blooming
creation, and offered a garland of such admirable colours and delightful odours as
had never been seen before. The youngest appeared, without any pompous prepara-
tions, having only a ciystal basin in one hand, and a silver bodkin in the other. Aa
88
694 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. nv.
■oon as he approached he threw open his breast, pierced a vein which lay opposite
to his heart, received the blood in the transparent vase, and, with an air of affec-
tionate reverence, placed it on the tomb. The spectators, struck with tne sight,
gave a shout of general applause, and immediately gave preference to this oblation.
II it was reckoned such a singular expression of love to expend a few of those
precious drops for the honour of a parent, O how matchless I how ineffable was the
love of Jesus in pouring out all his vital blood for the salvation of his enemies I
{Student's Handbook of Scripture Doctrines.) The heavenly Passover: — ^I. Thk
RBAIilTY AND CHABAOTEB OP THK LIPB BEYOND DEATH. Chrfst Spcaks of it aS " the
kingdom of God." This is not the idea of mere existence, but of being in the
highest form of organization. The Father-King will pervade all life with His own
spirit. The law will be the Father's rule, which is love. II. The special form op
lilFB IN THE FaTHSB'S KINGDOM HEBE ANTICIPATED. " I will drink it with yOU UeW."
This implies — 1, Close and intimate association between the Eedeemer and the re-
deemed. 2. The mutual presence and intercourse of the redeemed. 3. Their sacred
employment. The Saviour says He will drink, and they shall drink, the wine of
the Pascal feast new in tiie Father's kingdom. He had just said : " This cup is the
new covenant in My blood." The heavenly festival is a memorial celebration of
redeeming love. To the redeemed it will be a cup of grateful love, and of grateful
retrospection. {The Preacher's Monthly.)
Ver. 26. And when they had wxmg an hyxnzL — T?ie best harmony : — Jesus sung an
hymn, and when before was heard music so pleasing to God, so grand and beautiful
to listening angels ? We know not what harmonies from the power of sound the
Creator produces for the ceaseless joy of His intelligent creatures who fill the vast
amplitudes of the sky. We know not whal; sublime, and to us, inconceivable
realities are expressed by those descriptions given by that apostle who leant on
Jesus's bosom, and heard with prophetic ear the voice as of many waters, as of a
great thunder, and the voices of harpers harping with their harps ; but sure am I
that there was a harmony and a glory in this hymn they never heard before. For
the beauty of its harmony was moral ; it was harmony from the inner spirit of
man ; it was harmony between man and Christ ; it was the melody of meekness, of
obedience, of peace and joy ; it was like the music of law and order from those
glittering stars of night beneaih which they sung — such a harmony as the character
of Christ for ever sounds in the ears of God. {N. Macleod, D.D.) Value of
forms of prayer and praise : — One of the commonest objections to the constant use
of stated forms of common prayer is, that at times they must inevitably jar upon
our feelings, compelling us, for example, to take words of joy and praise on our
lips when our hearts are fidl of grief, or to utter penitent confessions of sin and
imploring cries for mercy when our hearts are dancing with mirth and joy.
But if we mark the conduct of our Lord and His disciples, we cannot say that
even this objection is final or fatal. He and they were about to part. He was
on His way to the agony of Gethsemane and the shame of the cross. Their
hearts, despite His comforting words, were heavy with foreboding and grief.
Yet they sang the Hallel, used the common form of praise, before they went
out, — He to die for the sins of the world, and they to lose all hope in Him as
the Saviour of Israel. No Divine command, nothing but the custom of the
Feast, enjoined this form upon them; yet they do not caet it aside. And this
" hymn " was ng^dirge, no slow and measured cadence, no plaintive lament,
hxA a joyous song of exultation. . . , Must not these tones of irrepressible hope,
ctf joyous and exultant trust, have jarred on the hearts of men who were passing
into a great darkness in which all the lights of life and hope and joy were to
be eclipsed? If our Lord could look through the darkness and see the joy set
before Him, the disciples could not. Yet they too joined in this joyous hymn
before they went out into the darkest night the world has ever known. With
their example before us, we cannot fairly argue that settled forms of worship are
to be condemned simply because they jar on the reigning emotion of the moment.
We must rather infer that, in His wisdom, God will not leave us to be the prey of any
unbalanced emotion; that, when our hearts are most fearful, He calls on us to put our
trust in Him ; that when they are saddest He reminds us that, if we have made Him
our chief good, our chief good is stiU with us, whatever we may have lost, and that
we may still rejoice in Hun, tiiough all other joy has departed from us. And when
He bids us trust in Him in every night of loss and fear, and even to be glad in Him
however sorrowlal oiur sools may be, — 0 how comforting and welcome the eommand
nv.] ST. MARK. 595
Bhonld be ! for it is nothing less than an assurance that He sees the gain which is
to spring from our loss ; it is nothing short of a pledge that He will turn our sorrow
into joy. (S. Cox, D.D.) Place of forms in religion : — Keligion is a thing of
principles, not of forms ; spirit, not letter. It is a life, a life which reveals itself in
various ways under all the changes of time, a life which consecrates every faculty
we possess to the service of God and man. It uses forms, but is not dependent on
them. It may modify them in a thousand different ways, to suit them to the
wants, emotions, aspirations of the soul. Tbeie was a most true and sincere
religious life, for example, among the Hebrews, and under the laws of Moses.
Worship then took the form of offerings and sacrifices, fasts and feasts. All these,
in so far as they were Hebrew, and were specially adapted to Hebrew life, have
passed away ; but the religious life has not passed with them. It has clothed itself
in simpler and more universal forms. Our worship expresses itself in prayers,
hymns, sacraments, and above all in the purity and charity which bids us visit the
poor and needy in their affliction, and keep ourselves unspotted from the world.
In due time, these forms may be modified or pass away. But the life which
works and speaks through them will not pass away. It will simply rise into
higher and nobler forms of expression. No man, therefore, can live and grow
simply by adhering to forms of worship and service, let him be as faithful and
devoted to them as he will. They may feed and nourish life, but they cannot
impart it. They will change and pass, but the life of the soul need not therefore
suffer loss. If that life has once been quickened in us through faith and love, it
will and must live on, for it is an eternal life, and continue to manifest itself in
modes that will change and rise to meet its new necessities and conditions.
Religion accepts us as we are, that it may raise us above what we are ; it employs
and consecrates all our faculties, that our faculties may be refined, invigorated,
enlarged in scope. If we can speak, it bids us speak. If we can sing, it bids us
sing. If we can labour and endure, it bids us labour and endure. If we can only
stand and wait, it teaches us that they also serve who only stand and wait. What-
ever we can do, it bids us do heartily, as unto the Lord, and not unto men, and yet
do for men, that it may be unto the Lord. If we really have this life, it will reveal
itself in us as it did in Him who is our life — ^in a love too profound and sincere to
be repelled by any diversities of outward form ; in a spirit of praise too pure and
joyous to be quenched by any of the changes and sorrows of time ; and in an earnest
consecration of our every capacity and power to the service of Him who loved us,
and gave Himself for us, and for all. (S. GoXy D.D.) Singing in heaven : — ^For
one I would not rid myself of the hope that we shall sometimes — perhaps on great
anniversaries commemorative of earthly histories — literally sing, in heaven, the
very psalms and hymns which are so often the " gate of heaven " to us here. It
would be sadder parting with this world than we hope it will be when our time
oomes, if we must forget these ancient lyrics, or find our tongues dumb when we
would utter them. How can we live without them ? Are they not a part of our
very being ? Take them away, with all the experiences of which they are the
symbol, and what would there be left of us to carry into heaven ? (Prof. Austin
Phelps.) The_Jetcijh Psalms : — The Jewish Psalms, in which is expres ed the
very spirit onfie national life, have furnished the bridal hymns, the battle songs,
the pilgrim marches, the penitential prayers, and the public praises of every nation
in Christendom, since Christendom was bom. It is a sentence from the Jewish
Psalm-book, which we have written over the portico of the chief temple of the
world's industry and commerce, the London Exchange. These psalms have rolled
through the din of every great European battle-lield, they have pealed through the
scream of the storm in every ocean highway of the earth. Drake's sailors sang
them when they clove the virgin waves of the Pacific; Frobisher's, when they
dashed against the barriers of the Arctic ice and night. They floated over the
waters on that day of days, when England held her Protestant freedom against
Pope and Spaniard, and won the naval supremacy of the world. They crossed the
ocean with the Mayflower pilgrims ; they were sung around Cromwell's camp fires,
and his Ironsides charged to their music; while they have filled the peaceful homes
of England and of Christendom with the voice of supplication and the breath of
praise. In palace halls, by happy hearths, in squalid rooms, in pauper wards,
in prison cells, in crowded sanctuaries, in lovely wildernesses, everywhere these
Jews have uttered our moan of contrition and our song of triumph, our tearful
complaints and our wrestling, conquering prayer. {J. Baldwin Brovm, B.A.) Tht
love of singing sanctioned by Jesus: — At a gathering of children one Christmas Day
596 TEE BIBLICAL ILLUSTKATOB. [chap, nv:
a gentleman present related the following very interesting incident : A little girl»
only three years of age, was very curious to know why Christmas evergreens were
so much used, and what they were intended to signify. So Mr. It— told her the
story of the Babe of Bethlehem, the child whose name was Jesus. The little
qaestioner was just beginning to give voice to the music that was in her heart; and
after Mr. L — concluded the narrative, she looked up in his face and asked, " Did
Jesus sing ? " "Who had ever thought of that ? The text is almost conclusive
proof that our Lord did sing; it is, at any rate, quite conclusive proof that He
sanctioned the use of song on the part of His disciples. Singing in prospect of
death: — Jerome, of Prague, bound naked to the stake, continued to sing hymns
with a deep untrembling voice. (A. W, Atwood.) Soothing influence of hymn-
Hinging : — I remember a remarkable instance which occurred in my father's lecture-
room during one of those sweet scenes which preceded the separation of the
Presbyterian Church into the old and new schools. At that time controversy ran
high, and there were fire and zeal and wrath mingled with discussion ; and who-
ever sat in the chair, the devil presided. On the occasion to which I refer an old
Scotchman, six feet high, much bent with age, with blue eyes, large features, very
pale and white all over his face, and bald-headed, walked up and down the back
part of tbe room, and as the dispute grew furious he (and only he could have done
it) would stop and call out, *• Mr. Moderator, let us sing ' Salvation ' ; " and some
one would strike up and sing the tune, and the men who were in angry debate were
cut short ; but one by one they joined in, and before they had sung the hymn
through they were all calm and quiet. When they resumed the controversy, it was
in a much lower key. So this good old man walked up and down, and threw a
hymn into the quarrel every few minutes, and kept the religious antagonists from
absolute explosion and fighting. It is the nature of hymns to quell irascible
feeling. I do not think that a man who was mad could sing six verses through
without regaining his temper before he got to the end. {H. W. Beecher.) The
power of a hymn: — On one of the days that President Garfield lay dying at the sea-
side, he was a little better, and was permitted to sit by the window, while Mrs»
Garfield was in the adjoining room. Love, hope, and gratitude filled her heart,
and she sang the beautiful hymn, commencing, "Guide me, O Thou great
Jehovah ! '* As the soft and plaintive notes floated into the sick-chamber, the
President turned his eyes up to Dr. Bliss and asked, •• Is that Crete ? " " Yes,**
replied the Doctor ; " it is Mrs. Garfield." *' Quick, open the door a little," anliously
responded the sick man. Dr. Bliss opened the door, and after listening a few
moments, Mr. Garfield exclaimed, as the large tears coursed down his sunken
cheeks, *♦ Glorious, Bliss, isn't it ? " The power of a hymn : — ^A little boy came to
one of our city missionaries, and holding out a dirty and well-worn bit of printed
paper, said, " Please, sir, father sent me to get a clean paper like this." Taking it
from his hand, the missionary unfolded it, and found it was a paper containing the
beautiful hymn beginning, " Just as I am." The missionary looked down with
interest into the face earnestly upturned to him, and asked the little boy where he
got it, and why he wanted a clean one. " We found it, sir," said he, *• in sister's
pocket after she died ; she used to sing it all the time when she was sick, and loved
it so much that father wanted to get a clean one to pat in » frame to hang it np.
Won't you give us a clean one, sir ? "
Yer. 27. I wUl smite the 8hepherd.~Tr%y Chriit i$ eaUed a 8hspherd:^l. Aft
descending from ancient patriarchs who were shepherds. They were types of
Him. 2. He knows His sheep, and marks them for His own (John x. 3, 14J[. God
sets His seal on them (2 Tim. ii. 19). 3. He feeds their souls and bodies m green
pastures (Psa. xxiii.) and drives them to the sweet streams and waters of comfort, by
the paths of grace and righteousness. 4. He defends them from the wolf and
enemies; they being timorous, simple, weak, shiftless creatures, unable to fly,
resist, or save themselves. 5. He nourishes the young and tender lambs. 6. He
seeks them when they go astray, and rejoices to find them. 7. He brings them to
the fold. (1) The fold of grace. (2) The fold of glory. (Dr. Thomas Taylor.)
Comfort in Christ, our Shepherd : — In that Christ is our Shepherd, we may comfort
ourselves in — 1. His love. More love is included in the title " Shepherd," than if
He should call Himself our father, brother, kinsman. The good Shepherd gives
His life for the sheep, which every father or brother will not do. 2. His care. The
sheep need care for nothing but the Shepherd's presence (Psa. xxiii. 1). (Ibid.)
ChrUt smitten, an example to u$: — In that Christ was smitten with the sword, let
BV.] 8T. MARK. S97
OB learn patience in affliction of every kind. 1. He snffered for no necessity or
desert, but by voluntary humility, whereas we deserve fiery trials. 2. He suffered
not for His own cause, but ours ; and shall not we for His ? 3. He despised the
shame ; and why should not we ? 4. The end of His cross was the exaltation at
God's right hand ; and we expect the same. (Ibid.) Comfort because God U the
tmiter: — Though Christ was smitten, it was not by chance, fortune, or altogether
by malice of wicked men ; but all by the counsel and decree of God. If thou art
smitten, comfort thyself. 1. It is God's hand. 2. God intends by this means to
bring about some good purpose in thee. 3. God not only sends thy trouble, but
also regulates and checks it. (Ibid.) The tcattering: — Why were the disciples
thus scattered ? 1. Their own weakness and carnal fear made them fly to save
themselves. They had not counted the cost of their profession. Nor had they yet
received the Holy Spirit, which afterwards kept them strong and stedfast. 2. God
in His wisdom would have Christ deserted, because He was to be known to tread
•• the winepress of God's wrath alone." 3. Thus it behoved the Scripture to be
fulfilled, in regard of Christ Himself, who voluntarily undertaking the grievous
burden of our sin, must be forsaken by all for the time. 4. To teach us, that all
our safety depends on our relation to the chief Shepherd. Without Christ we lie
dispersed* ongathered, and forlorn. {Ibid.)
Ver. 28. I will go before you Into Galilee. — Voice* from Galilee ;— It is quite
certain that, in the manhood of Christ, there was, in a very large degree, the truest
poetry of the heart. Hia sympathies with nature — His love of the beautiful
everywhere— His tenderness to childhood and to weakness — the deUcacy of His
action — ^the play of His fancy — all show that vivid imagination, and fervent glow,
and quiet sensibility, and creative habit, and deep perception which, I speak it
humanly, always make life a poem. Can we wonder that to such a mind as His,
that country, so endetured, so sanctified, — lovely in nature, but lovelier still in all its
sacred recoUections — should have such an attraction that He could scarcely consent
even to go to heaven without another look at its beauty, and a last taste of its
sweetness I And did my Saviour — did He— even thus ? Then for ever He has con-
secrated the pious memories of early years, and the yearnings of our manhood
after the sacredness of the past I H. But, as far as we may presume to judge, this
was not the only feeling which led the risen Jesus back to Galilee. We know,
indeed, from St. Peter's words to Cornelius, that when ♦• God raised up Jesus, the
third day, He showed Him openly indeed, but not to all the people, only to chosen
witnesses, chosen before of God, who did eat and drink with Him after He rose
from the dead." Indeed we know that "He appeared to above five hundred
brethren at once," and this manifestation was most probably on that mountain in
Galilee, where He had made such a special appointment for the re-union. We may
well belieTe — and it is in complete accordance with the whole mind of Christ — that
He went down to Galilee for this very object — to gather, and assure, and comfort,
and strengthen those to whom His miracles and teaching had been already blessed
in that part of Palestine. And it was only like our dear Master, and consistent
with all EEis faithful love, that He should thus pause, before He went on further — to
reassure and bless His own in distant places. HI. And of this, more and more,
be quite sure, that Christ will always come back to His own work in the soul which
He has once made His own. And this blcised lesson again I read in that loving
journey to Galilee. Whom Christ calls, to them He returns. No time dims, no
changes reach, no distance appals, that love I 17. I see, too, in the visit to Galilee,
a probation and discipline to His own more immediate followers. They were to
have the joy of His presence, but they must make an effort. They must show
their constancy and their faith by an act of toil and trust. They must go — at His
word — all the way to meet Him in Galilee. •• He went before them." He always
goes before His people. And sometimes precedence looks like desertion. Obey and
believe, and the recompense will be a full and mantling cup. •* Go where I send
you; " — ^this is His constant language — " Go where I send you; I shall be there."
V. One, and perhaps the greatest, cause why He passed those *• forty days " on
earth — after He had finished His great work — was to show and prove His identity ;
to demonstrate that the Bisen was the Crucified; that nothing was changed
•f His love and being. He was the same I the same Man I the same Brother !
the same Saviour I the same God ! And there were the very wotmds to bear their
evidence I This visit to GaUlee was singularly fitted to evidence the onenese. He
goes the very same journey which He had taken often before, to the Mune pUeaa,
598 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. xjt.
where He had spent the greater part of His life, and where the witnesses to the
identity would be the greatest in number, and the most competent to attest. He
seeks the same lake, which He had made the centre of His previous ministry. He
stands with His disciples — on the very shore where He had spoken to them and
called them. The voice, the accent, the manner, the spirit are the same. They
recognize it in a moment. He eats food, where He had so often eaten it before.
And how much we owe to that identity, I need not say. The Man of Weakness is
the God of Power. The Crucified is the Intercessor. Sure proof that the ransom
is accepted, and the whole debt is paid by Christ 1 Positive evidence that we have
now a God in sympathy. And one more voice I hear from Galilee. The risen
Christ walked the whole land — from Dan to Beersheba: He revealed His
authority : He showed His power : He made all His own I An earnest of that day
when He shall come and "reign in Mount Sion and in Jerusalem, and before Hia
ancients gloriously ; " and •• His feet shall stand upon the Mount of Olives ; " and
then " there shall be one Lord, and His name One," and " all Israel shall be
saved." {James Vaughan, M.A.) Consoling promises : — Such a promise as was
never heard of before — that a dead man shall rise within a few days, and promise
to do so. Note the consolations with which our Lord sustains His disciples. 1.
That there shall be a certain end of this evil ready to swallow them up. 2. That
there shall be a short end after a few days ; three or four. 3. That there shall be
a happy end. For (1) Christ should rise again from the dead with power and glory.
(2) Whereas they have run away from Him, He will come to them again. (3)
Though they have left their Shepherd, yet He will become their Shepherd again,
and guide them as a shepherd goes before his sheep. {Dr. Thomas Taylor.) The
promised meeting in Galilee: — Why in Galilee? 1. That our Lord and His
disciples may more surely enjoy one another without fear of the Jews ; and that
He may instinct them in the things concerning the kingdom of heaven. 2.
Because Christ had more disciples and favourites in Galilee to whom He would
familiarly offer Himself, and manifest His resurrection, than in Jndea. 3. Hia
disciples belonged to Galilee, and He would bring them to the place where He
found them. 4. They must foUow their calling tiU Christ came, and for the time
before they can get into Galilee, He will be there before them, waiting for them
{Ibid.)
Ver. 29. Altboagh all shall he offended, yet will not t-— Peter's aim was a three-
fold one ; it consisted in — 1. His vehement contradiction of the words of Christ.
'2. His preferring himself to and putting himself above the rest of the apostles.
:'j. His self-confidence and boastfulness of his own strength. The remedy against
temptation is such a knowledge of our own natural weakness, as may lead us to
distrust ourselves, to rely on God, and to seek His protection in all things.
()r. Denton, M.A.) Peter's rash zeal : — Peter's action in this instance was at the
t^ame time commendable for some things and faulty for others. I. Commendablb
IN THE following pabticdlabs. 1. His purpose and resolution of mind, not to
take offence at Christ, which purpose and resolution he professes sincerely and from
his heart, speaking as he really thought. 2. It is also commendable in him, that
he was so zealous and forward above the other disciples to show his love to Christ
II. Yet be was at fault in being so confident. 1. In that he directly con>
tradicts the express words of Christ, whereby He had plainly told him and the
rest, that they should all be offended at Him. 2. In presuming rashly and con-
fidently upon his own strength or ability to hold out constantly, and to stick close
to the Saviour in the time of trouble and danger now at hand. 3. In arrogantly
preferring himself to his fellow-disciples, affirming that though all should be
offended, yet he would not. {George Petter.) Enthusiasm : — Enthusiasm is the
glow of the soul ; it is the lever by which men are raised above their average
level and enterprise, and become capable of a goodness and benevolence which, but
for it, would be quite impossible. There is not too much enthusiasm of any sort
or for any object, in a world like ours, and Christians had better not join in sneering
at a force, which, in its purest form, founded and reared the Church of Jesus
Christ. True, enthusiasm often loses its way, spends itself on mistaken causes, on
imperfect systems, on worthless ideals, but that is no reason for saying that all
enthusiasm is bad. Mistaken enthusiasm, like Peter's, will in time be rudely tested
by experience; and meanwhile those who have any reason to hope that their
enthusiasm is not mistaken, can afford to be generous and hopeful about others.
He that is not against us is, unconsciously perhaps, on our side. {Canon Liddon.)
CHAP. »▼.] ST, MARK, 599
Peter's rashness : — ^Hera we have an instance (as many elsewhere) of Peter's
temerity and rashness, not well considering his weakness, and what spirit he was
of. He betrays great infirmity, arrogating much more than was in him. 1. He
directly contradicts his Lord, who said, '• All ye ; " Peter says, *• No, not all " — ^he
will not ; not this night — no, never. 2. He believes not the oracle of the prophet
Zechariah (xiii. 7), but would shift it off with pomp of words, as not concerning
him ; he was not one of the sheep that should be scattered, though the Pastor was
smitten. 8. He presumes too much upon his own strength, and of that which is
out of his own power, never mentioning or including the help and strength of God,
by whom alone he could stand. He neither considers his own frailty, which will over-
throw him, nor yet the power of God, which can sustain and uphold him. 4. He
sets himself too much above other men ; as if all men were weak in comparison
with Peter, and Peter the champion. 6. He is bold, hardy, and vainly confident in
a thing yet to come, in which he has never tried his strength. Knowing his
present affection, he will take no notice of his future peril ; nay, he disclaims and
almost scorns the danger, little thinking how close it is to him. (Dr. 'Thomas
Taylor.) Self-deception : — Louis XV., in his disgusting depravity, exposed him-
self to the smallpox, tben the dread of all society. Though flattered for a time
into the belief that there was no danger, he was at length undeceived ; but, owing
to the prevalence of court intrigue, the information was only conveyed to him at
the latest possible moment. He caused his guilty companions to be sent away,
telling them that he would recall them should he recover from his disorder. Just
before dismissing one of the most degraded among them, he said : " I would fain
die as a believer, and not as an infideL I have been a great sinner, doubtless ; but
I have ever observed Lent with a most scrupulous exactitude ; I have caused more
than a htmdred thousand masses to be said for the repose of unhappy souls ; I
have respected the clergy, and punished the authors of all impious works ; so that
I flatter myself I have not been a very bad Christian." Extreme self-dependence : —
There is a famous speech recorded of an old Norseman thoroughly characteristic
of the Teuton. '* I believe neither in idols nor demons," said he ; ** I put my
sole trust in my own strength of body and soul." {S. Smiles.) Danger of pre-
sumption : — A scientific gentleman, deputed by the Government, was, not many
years ago, examining the scene of a fatal explosion. He was accompanied by the
anderviewer of the colliery, and as they were inspecting the edges of a goaf (a
region of foul air), it was observed that the "Davy " lamps which they carried
were afire. " I suppose," said the inspector, that there is a good deal of fire-damp
hereabouts. ** Thousands and thousands of cubic feet all through the goaf," coolly
replied his companion. " Why," exclaimed the official, •* do you mean to say that
there is nothing but that shred of wire-gauze between us and eternity T "
*• Nothing at all," replied the underviewer, very composedly. " There's nothing
here where we stand but that gauze wire to keep the whole mine from being blown
into the air." The precipitate retreat of the Government official was instantaneous.
And thus it should be with the sinner : his retreat from the ways of sin — those
♦' goafs " of poisonous air — should be instantaneous. Sir Humphrey Davy's lamp
was never designed as a substitute for caution if accidentally or unknowingly
carried into foul air, whereas many do so knowingly and habitually.
Ver. 30. Thou shalt deny Me thrice. — Danger of self-ignorance : — " The Dougal,
an old line of battle ship, which has been lying in Portsmouth Harbour since her
return from a cruise on the China station, in 1871, has been recently docked for the
purpose of alterations, so as to fit her for taking the place of the Vernon, torpedo
and dep6t ship. During an examination of her interior, one of the workmen came
across a live shell in a disused comer of the ship. The projectile must have lain
where it was found for over fourteen years." This was a startling discovery ; but
had no examination of the interior been required, the missile would not even now
have been found. How forcibly the story illustrates the need we have for careful
and frequent search into our own hearts I Possibly the projectile had been placed
in the •• disused comer of the ship " by an enemy ; or, on the other hand, it may
have been concealed ready to hurl at the foe. Anyhow, it was a dangerous thing
to have stowed away, for at any moment it might have exploded, and destroyed the
vesseL Self-examination is ever beneficial, and often leads to the startling dis-
covery of some most dangerous evil that lay long concealed in the disused comers
of the heart. That we may be fitted to take our right place in God's service, and
go forth to our work with His approval, let a thorough examination be made, and
600 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. xw.
let all evil be removed. (Robert Spurgeon.) Good resolutions soon forgotten : —
Note how suddenly even a good man is turned from good resolutions, if but a little
left to himself, or if he remit but a little of his own watchfulness. In a few hoan
this confident disciple, who scorned to think of denying his Master, denies and
forswears Him too. 1. We stand by grace, which, if not every moment renewed,
we must needs fall ; as in the case of a man supported by a crutch — remove the
crutch, and he falls down ; or set a staff upright, withdraw the hand, and you need
not push it down, it goes of itself. 2. The suddenness of the temptation, which
comes like lightning, and our proneness to be kindled with it. 3. The freedom of
the Spirit, who comes and goes at His own pleasure. (1) This should keep us
humble, no matter how holy a state we get into. The sun may at any time sud-
denly disappear under a cloud. (2) Let us watch our graces well, and forecast
temptation. (3) Let us depend on the Spirit of God to perfect and accomplish
His own good motions, and leave us not to ourselves, who can quickly quench them.
4. No wonder if the righteousness of hypocrites be as the morning dew (Hosea vL 4).
(Dr. Thomas Taylor.)
Ver. 31. I will not deny Thee In any wise.— Peecr** deniiU of Christ: — ^I. We may
learn from this transaction not to be too fobwabd in oub fbofessioms, or too
confident in our own strength, lest confidence should at last increase the guilt and
shame of failure ; and in the event of non-performance, our professions be turned
to our reproach. The chief of the apostles mistook the firmness of his own spirit.
In the day of peace it is easy to form good resolutions, and to be confident that
we shall perform them. To resolve in private and act in public are very different
things, requiring very different degrees of firmness, both in exerting the powers of
the understanding and in regulating the affections of the heart. Bash resolutions
are foolish, and rash vows cannot be innocent. Yet our weakness is itself the
decisive proof that vows and resolutions ought to be made. But let them be made
as reason and duty require— deliberately not ostentatiously; not so much to be
heard as to be kept ; not so much to man as to God. II. To hope the best, anp
TO DEPEND the MOST UPON THOSE WHOSE TEMPERS ABE NOT 80 WARM AND FOBWABD, BUT
MILD, AND COOL, AND FiEM. In St. Johu we find no forward professions, no hasty
declarations of invincible spirit. He was firm and faithful, but meek and unoffend-
ing. His zeal united gentleness. Zeal should be with moderation. The passions
must not rule the conduct. The feelings of a good man are ruled by his rehgion.
" Every thought should be brought into captivity to the obedience of Christ."
Without such guidance feeling is bold, forward, and capricious, liable to error, and
wiU involve us in sin ; but conviction and principle are steady and permanent ; trnth
and right are for ever the same. III. That if we be subprised into any failubh
IN OUB DUTY WE MAY BE FORGIVEN UPON REPENTANCE AND BEITOBMATION. But this
great privilege must not be allowed to relax our care, or encourage our presumption.
St. Peter delayed his repentance only till he knew his fault. Hand-in-hand with
conviction came contrition. {W. Barrow^ LL.D.) Peter and the rest : — The text
shows St. Peter exercising the supreme influence. I. Hebe is Peter's undoubted
SUPREMACY. History circles around great names. Men are not all original. The
apostles could not do without Peter. II. This supbemacy was intellectual,
MORAL, SPIBIXUAL; NOT ECONOMICAL, LEOAL, OB MEBELY OFFICIAL. His SUpremaOy
rose out of qualification. There are no spiritual leaderships which can be
irrespective of character. A true man must always influence others powerfully.
III. The value of such chabactebb as that or Peteb in the Chubch. Each age
needs men who can call onward and upward because they are beyond and above.
IV. Hebe is noble pubpose and noble feeling coming bhobt in action. The sequel
is, ** they all forsook Him and fled." Not even the grandest human inspirations
have staying virtues in them. These must be sought from the Holy Spirit. (TJie
Preacher's Monthly.) Presumption: — I stand on a mountain in Colorado six
thousand feet high. There is a man standing beneath me who says: "I see a
peculiar shelving to this rock," and he bends towards it. I say : " Stop, you wiU
fall." He says : **No danger; I have a steady head and foot, and see a peculiar
piece of moss." I say : " Stand back " ; but he says : '* I am not afraid " ; and he
bends farther and farther, and after a while his head whirls and his feet slip — and
the eagles know not that it is the macerated flesh of a man they are picking at, bat
it is. So I have seen men come to the very verge of New York life, and they look
away down in it. They say : " Don't be cowardly. Let us go down." They look
farther and farther. I warn them to stand back ; but Satan comes behind theoit
OBAV. ziT.] ST. MARK. 601
And while they are swinging over the verge, pushes them off. People say they were
naturally bad. They were not! They were only engaged in exploration. {Dr.
Talmage,) Fatal presumption ;— The present Eddystone Lighthouse stands very
firmly, but that was not the character of the first structure that stood on that
dangerous point. There was an eccentric man by the name of Henry Winstanly,
who built a very fantastic lighthouse at that point in 1696, and when it was
nearly done he felt so confident that it was strong, that he expressed the wish that
he might be in it in the roughest hurricane that ever blew in the face of heaven.
And he got his wish. One November night, in 1703, he and his worfanen were in
that light-house when there came down the most raging tempest that has ever
been known in that region. On the following morning the people came down to see
about the lighthouse. Not a vestige of the wall, not a vestige of the men. Only
two twisted iron bolts, showing where the lighthouse had stood. So there are
men building up their fantastic hopes, and plans, and enterprises, and expecta-
tions, thinking they will stand for ever, saying : " We don't want any of the defences
of the gospel. We can stand for ourselves. We are not afraid. We take all the
risks and we defy everything; " and suddenly the Lord blows upon them and they
are gone. Only two things left — a grave and a lost soul. {Dr. Talrmge.)
Accumulated sin : — Peter, instead of being humbled and made self-distrustful by
our Lord's warning, as he ought to have been, only heaps up more sin against him-
self by persisting in contradicting the Lord. Let us take note from this that the
child of God, through strength of his corruption, may fall often into the same sin,
notwithstanding good means against it. 1. It is a very hard thing to lead people
out of themselves. Almost nothing but experience of former falls brings them to
see their folly. 2. Till their mind is changed their action will be the same. 3.
Weakness of grace causes even the best to fall over and over again into the same
sins. 4. The same reason remains still which may move the Lord to leave His
children to themselves; to try, excite, humble them, work more serious sorrow,
make them more watchful, &c. {Dr. Thomas Taylor.) Repetition strengthens : —
Every repetition of sin makes sm the stronger ; for as the body, the more it ia
nourished and fed, the stronger it grows, so with sin in the soul ; every new act is
an addition of strength till it comes to a habit. Pluck up a twig, then, before it
grows up into a plant. Dash out the brains of every sin in infancy. (Ibid.)
Vers. 32-36. Which was named Gethsemane. — The conflict in Gethsemane : — ^I. The
PLACE OF THE CONFLICT CALLS EOR A BRIEF NOTICE. U. ThE STOBY OF THE CONFLICT.
Its intensity is the first fact in the story that strikes us. " His sweat was as it were
great drops of blood falling to the ground." This conflict wrung from the Saviour a
great cry. What was it ? "0 My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from Me;
nevertheless not as I will, but as Thou wilt." We have a glimpse of the conflict
carried on by Christ for us, single-handed. III. The sleep of the nisciPLEa
WHILST THIS CONFLICT WAS GOING ON. {GharUs Stanford, D.D.) Gethsemane: —
I. Gethsemane suggests to reverent faith our blessed Eedeemer's longing for human
sympathy. 11. It reminds us of the sacredness of human sorrow and Divine
eommonion. lU. It reveals the overwhelming fulness of the Eedeemer's
sorrow. IV. It reminds us of the will of Christ yielded to the will of the
Father. V. It has lessons and influences for oar own hearts. (The Preacher's
Monthly.) Jesu* in Gethsemane : — I. Woe's bittebest cup should be taken when
IT IS the means of HIGHEST USEFULNESS. Wasted suffering is the climax of
suffering. Affliction's furnace-heat loses its keenest pangs for those who can see
the form of One like unto the Son of Man walking with them by example, and
know that they are ministering to the world's true joy and life, in some degree,
as He did. U. Fbom oub Loan's example we leabn the helpfulness in sorbow
OF RELIANCE UPON HUMAN AND DlVINE COMPANIONSHIP COMBINED. But tO do both
in proper proportion is not easy. Some hide from both earth and heaven as much
as possible. Others lean wholly upon human supports ; others, yet, turn to God
in a seclusion to which the tenderest offices of friends are unwelcome. Our Lord's
divinity often appears plainest in his symmetrical union of traits, mainly remark-
able because of their eombination. JSe was at once the humblest and boldest of
men ; the farthest from sin and the most compassionate towards the returning
{)rodigal ; the meekest and the most commanding. So, in the garden agony, he
eaned upon human and Divine supports ; the one as indispensable as the other.
Whatever the situation, we are not to act the recluse. Life's circles need as and
we need them. Neither are we to forget the Father in heaven. Storms and tria^
602 TEE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [Oha*. nv.
only increase His ready sympathy and snccour. III. Oub Lord's cbuotal obsdienck
IN THE OABDEN AGONY REFLECTS THE MAJESTY OF THE HUMAN WILL AMD ITS POSSIBLE
MASTERY OF EVERY TRIAL IN PERFECT OBEDIENCE TO THE DiVINB WILL. HoweVer
superhuman Jesus' suffering, He was thoroughly human in it. He had all our
faculties, and used them as we may use ours. It is no small encouragement
that the typical Man gives us an example of perfect obedience, at a cost unknown
before or since. In the mutual relations of the human and Divine wills all merit
is achieved and all character constructed. Learned authors dwell with deserved
interest upon the world's "decisive battles," the pivots of destiny. The soul's
future for time and eternity turns upon contests in which the will is in chief com-
mand. Intellect and sensibilities participate, but they are always subordinate. It
were helpful to bear this in mind under every exposure. Let the inquiry be quick
and constant, What saith the will ? Is that steady and unflinching ? IV. Jesus'
BOCL COULD HAVE BEEN "SORROWFUL EVEN UNTO DEATH'* ONLY AS HiS SUFFERINGS
WERE VICARIOUS. He was always sublimely heroic. Why such agony now ? It was
something far deadlier than death. It was the burden and mystery of the world's sin.
The Lamb of God was slain for us in soul agony rather than by physical pain. His
soul formed the soul of His sufferings. V. Gethsemane's darkness paints sin's
GUILT AND BuiN IN FAITHFUL AND ENDURING coLouB. It is easy to think lightly of sin.
Having never known guilt, Christ met the same hidings of the Divine countenance
as do the guilty. This was man's disobedience in its relation with God's law and
judgment. VI. Gethsejiane throws portentous light upon the woe of lost souls.
He suffered exceptionally, but He was also a typical sufferer ; every soul has possi-
bilities beyond our imagination ; and terrible the doom when these possibilities are
fulfilled in the direction to which Gethsemane points. VIL Oub lesson oiyes
TKRRIBLE EMPHASIS TO THE FACT AND SERIOUSNESS OF IMPOSSIBILITIES WITH GOD. Out
time tends strongly towards lax notions of the Divine character and law and of the
conditions of salvation. The will and fancy erect their own standards. Religion
and obedience are to be settled according to individual notions, a subjective affair.
Our Lord's agonized words, " If it be possible," cBtablish the rigidity and absolute-
ness of governmental and spiritual conditions. God's will and plans are objective
realities ; they have definite and all-important direction and demands. Man should
not think of being a law unto himself either in conduct or belief; least of all should
he sit in judgment upon the revealed Word, fancying that any amount or kind of
inner light is a true and sufficient test of its legitimacy and authority. But, how
futile all attempts at fathoming Gethsemane's lessons. (H. L. B, Speare.) Christ
in Gethsemane: — I. Gethsemamb saw Ghbist's agony on accounz of sin. U.
Gethsemane was a witness of Ghbist's deyotiom m thb houb of distbess.
ni. Gethsemane was ▲ witness of Ghbist's besionatiom to the will of Gtod.
rV. Gethsemane was ▲ witness of Christ's sympathy with, and affection fob.
His tbied followebs. {J. H. Hitchens.) The prayer in Gethsemane: —
L Let us notice, in the outset, the sudden expebiencb which led to
this act of supplication. He began to be "sore amazed and to be very
heavy." Evidently something new had come to Him; either a disclosure
of fresh trial, or a violence of unusual pain under it. Here it is affecting
to find in our Divine Lord so much of recognized and simple human nature.
He desired to be alone, but He planned to have somebody He loved and trusted
within call. His grief was too burdensome for utter abandonment. Hence came
the demand for sympathy He made, and the persistence in reserve he retained, both
of which are so welcome and instructive. For here emphatically, as perhaps
nowhere else, we are " with Him in the garden." Oh, how passionately craving of
help, andyethowmajesterially rejectful of impertinent condolence, are some of these
moments we have in our mourning, when our souls retire upon their reserves, and
will open their deepest recesses only to God I Our secret is unshared, our struggle
is unrevealed to men. Yet we love those who love us just as much as ever. It ia
helpful to find that even our Lord Jesus had some feelings of which He could not
tell John. He "went away" (Matt. xxvi. 44). II. Let us, in the second place,
inquire concerning the exact meaning of this singulab supplication. In those
three intense prayers was the Saviour simply afraid of death f Was that what cor
version makes the Apostle Paul say He " feared " f Was He just pleading there
under the olives for permission to put off the human form now, renounce the " like*
ness of men " (Phih li. 7, 8), which He had taken upon Him, slip back into heaven
inconspicuously by some sort of translation which would remove Him from the
power of Pilate, so that when Judas had done his errand "quickly/' and had
CHAP. XIV.] ST. MARK. 603
arrived with the soldiers, Jesus would be mysteriously missing, and the the traitor
would find nothing but three harmless comrades there asleep on the grass ? That
is to say, are we ready to admit that our Lord and Master seriously proposed to go
back to" His Divine Father's bosom at this juncture, leaving the prophecies unful.
tilled, the redemption unfinished, the very honour of Jehovah sullied with a failure?
Does it offer any help in dealing with such a conjecture to insist that this was
only a moment of weakness in His " human nature ? " Would this make any
difference as a matter of fact for Satan to discover that he bad only been
contending with another Adam, after all? Would the lost angels any the less
exult over the happy news of a celestial defeat because they learned that the
" seed of the woman " had not succeeded in bruising the serpent's head by reason
of His own alarm at the last? Oh, no: surely no I Jesus had said, when in the
lar-back counsels of eternity the covenant of redemption was made, '• Lo, I come:
I dehght to do Thy will, O my God " (Psa. xl. 7, 8). He could have had no purpose
now, we may be evermore certain, of withdrawing the proffer of Himself to suffer
for men. There can be no doubt that the " cup" which our Lord desired might
" pass from " His lips, and yet was willing to drink if there could be no release
from it, was the judicial wrath of God discharged upon Him as a culprit vicariously
before the law, receiving the awful curse due to human sin. We reject all notion
of mere physical illness or exhaustion as well as all conjecture of mere sentimental
loneliness under the abandonment of friends. In that supreme moment when He
found that He, sinless in every particular and degree, must be considered guilty, and
so that His heavenly Father's face and favour must at least for a while be with-
drawn from Him, He was, in despite of all His courageous preparation, surprised and
almost frightened to discover how much His own soul was beginning to shudder
and recoil from coming into contact with sin of any sort, even though it was only
imputed. Evidently it seemed to His infinitely pure nature horrible to be pat in a
position, however false, such as that His adorable Father would be compelled to
draw the mantle over His face. This shocked Him unutterably. He shrank back
in consternation when He saw He must become loathsome in tiie sight of heaven
because of tho *' abominable thing " God hated (Jer. xliv. 4). Hence, we oonceiv*
the prayer covered only that. That which appears at first a startling surrender of
redemption as a whole, is nothing more than a petition to be reUeved from what He
hoped might be deemed no necessary part of the curse He was bearing for others.
He longed, as He entered unusual darkness, just to receive the usual light. It was
as if He had said to His heavenly Father : " The pain I understood, the curse I came
for. Shame, obloquy, death, I care nothing for them. I only recoil from being
loaded so with foreign sin that I cannot be looked upon with any allowance. I am
in alarm when I think of the prince of this world coming and finding something in
me, when hitherto he had nothing. I am poured out like water, and all my bones
are out of joint, my heart is like wax, when I think of the taunt that the Lord I
trusted no longer delights in Me ; this is like laughing God to scorn. Is there no
permitted discrimination between a real sinner, and a substitute only counted such
before the law in this one particular ? All things are possible with Thee ; make it
possible now for Thee to see Thy Son, and yet not seem to see the imputed guilt
He bears 1 Yet even this will I endure, if so it must be in order that I may fulfil
all righteousness; Thy will, not Mine, be done I " III. Again, let us observe care-
fully THE EXTRAORDINARY RANGE WHICH THIS PRAYER XN THE GARDEN TOOK. It is
not worth while even to appear to be playing upon an accidental collocation of
words in the sacred narrative ; but why should it be asserted that any inspired
words are accidental ? The whole history of Imunanuel's sufferings that awful
night contains no incident more strikingly suggestive than the record of the distance
He kept between Himself and His disciples. It is the act as well as the language
which is significant. Mark says, •* He went forward a little." Luke says, " He was
withdrawn from them about a stone's oast." Matthew says, •• He went a little
farther." So now we know that this one petition of our Lord was the final, secret,
supreme whisper of His innermost heart. The range of such a prayer was over His
whole nature. It exhausted His entire being. It covered the humanity it repre-
sented. In it for Himself and for us " He went a little farther " than ever He had
in His supplication gone before. One august monarch rules over this fallen world,
and holds all human hearts under His sway. His name is Pain. His image and
superscription is upon every coin that passes current in this mortal life. He claims
fealty from the entire race of man. And, sooner or later, once, twice, or a hundred
times, as the king chooses, and not as the subject wills, each soul ha? ^o put on its
604 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. nr.
black garment, go sedately and snfferingly on its sad journey to pay its loyal tribute,
precisely as Joseph and Mary were compelled to go up to Bethlehem^ to be taxed.
When this tyrant Pain summons us to come and discharge his dues, it is the quickest
of human instincts which prompts us to seek solitude. That seems to be the
universal rule (Zech. xii. 12-14). But now we discover from this symbolic picture
that, whenever any Christian goes away from other disciples deeper into the soli-
tudes of his own Gethsemane, he almost at once draws nearer to the Saviour he
needs. For our Lord just now " went forward a little." There He is, on ahead of
us all in experience 1 It is simply and wonderfully true of Jesus always, no matter
how severe is the suffering into which for their discipline He leads His chosen.
He Himself has taken His position in advance of them. No human lot was ever so
forlorn, so grief-burdened, so desolate, as was that of the Great Life given to redeem
it. No path ever reached so distantly into the region of heart-trying agony as that
it might not still see that peerless Christ of God •* about a stone's cast " beyond it,
kneeling in some deeper shadows of His own. No believer ever went so far into
hia lonely Qethsemane but that he found his Master had gone " a little farther.'*
• Christ did not send, but came Himself, to save;
The ransom price He did not lend, but gave ;
Christ died, the Shepherd for the sheep, —
We only fall asleep."
IV. Finally, let ns inquire after thb sxtpbeub besttlts of this bttpplxoaroh ov
ouB LoBD. 1. Consider the High Priest of our profession (Heb. xii. 2-4). What
good would it do to pray, if Christ's prayer was unsuccessful? 2. But was it
answered ? Certainly (Heb. v. 7-9). The cup remained (John xviii 11), but he got
acquiescence (Matt. xxvi. 42), and strength (Luke xxii. 43). 3. Have we been •* with
Him in the garden"? Then we have found a similar "cup" (Mark x. 38, 39).
(C. S, Robinson, D.D.) Companionship in sorrow : — It is a delightful thing to be
with Jesus on the mountain of transfiguration, where heavenly visitants are seen,
and a heavenly voice is heard. It would seem good to be always there. But they
who would follow Jesus through this earthly life, must be with Him also out on the
stormy sea in the gloomy night ; and again they must come with Him into the
valley of the shadow of death. There are bright, glad days to the Christian
believer, when faith and hope and love are strong. But there are days also of trial
and sorrow, when it seems as if faith must fail, and hope must die, and love itself
must cease. It is one thing for a young couple to stand together in light and joy,
surrounded by friends, at their marriage reception, or to share each other's pleasure
on their wedding-tour. It is quite another thing for a married pair to watch together
through the weary night over a sick and suffering child, and to close the eyes of their
darling in its death sleep, in the gray of the gloomy morning. Yet the clouds are
as sure as the sunlight on the path of every chosen disciple of Jesus who follows his
Master unswervingly ; and he who never comes with Jesus to a place named Geth-
semane has chosen for himself another path than that wherein the Saviour leads
the way. {H. Clay Trumbull). Christ, our sin-bearer: — I. With reoabi) to the
POSITION OUB LOBD WAS IN, £[e STOOD THEBE AS THE GBEAT SiN-BeABSB. Here,
beloved, we see what the burden was which our Lord bore : it was our sins. II.
But now obsxbve, secondly, the gbeat weight op this bubden. Who can
declare it? (J. H. Evans, M.A.) The sufferings of the good: — My life has been
to me a mystery of love. I know that God's education of each man is in perfect
righteousness. I know that the best on earth have been the greatest sufferers,
because they were the best, and like gold could stand the fire and be purified by it.
I know this, and a great deal more, and yet the mercy of God to me is such a
mystery that I have been tempted to think I was utterly unworthy of suffering. God
have mercy on my thoughts I I may be unable to stand suffering. I do not know.
But I lay myself at Thy feet, and say, ' Not that I am prepared, but that Thou art
good and wise, and wilt prepare me.'" {Norman Macleod.) Resignation: — Of
all the smaller English missions, the Livingstone-Congo stands conspicuous for its
overflowing of zeal and life and promise ; and of all its agents, young M'Call was
the brightest ; but he was struck down in mid-work. His last words were recorded
by a stranger who visited him. Let each one of us lay them to our hearts. ** Lord,
I gave myself, body, mind, and soul, to Thee. I consecrated my whole life and
being to Thy service ; and now, if it please Thee to take myself, instead of the work
which I would do for Thee, what is that to me ? Thy will be done." (JR. N, Cust,)
OHAP. XIV.] ST, MARK, 60S
Christ's sorrotc and desertion : — It is beyond our power to ascertain the precise
amount of suffering sustained by our Lord ; for a mystery necessarily encircles the
person of Jesus, in which two natures are combined. This mystery may ever
prevent our knovnng how His humanity was sustained by His divinity. Still,
undoubtedly, the general representation of Scripture would lead to the conclusion,
that though He was absolute God, with every power and prerogative of Deity, yet
was Christ, as man, left to the same conflicts, and dependent on the same assistances
as any of His followers. He differed, indeed, immeasurably, in that He was con-
ceived without the taint of original sin, and therefore was free from our evil pro-
pensities : He lived the life of faith which He worked out for Himself, and He lived
it to gain for us a place in His Father's kingdom. Although He was actually to
meet affliction like a man, He was left without any external support from above.
This is very remarkably shown by His agony in the garden, when an angel was sent
to strengthen Him. Wonderful that a Divine person should have craved assistance,
and that He did not draw on His own inexhaustible resources 1 But, it was as a man
that He grappled with the powers of darkness — as a man who could receive no
eelestial aid. And, if this be a true interpretation of the mode in which our Lord
met persecution and death, we must be right, in contrasting Him with martyrs,
when we assert an immeasurable difference between His sufferings, and those of
men who have died nobly for the truth : from Him the light of the Father*!
4;ountenance was vtdthdrawn, whilst onto them it was conspicuously displayed.
This may explain why Christ was confounded and overwhelmed, where others had
been serene and undaunted. Still, the question arises, — Why was Christ thus
deserted of the Father? Why were those comforts and supports withheld from
Him which have been frequently vouchsafed to His followers ? No doubt it is a
surprising as well as a piteous spectacle that of our Lord shrinking from the
«nguish of what should befal Him, whilst others have faced death, in its most
frightful forms, with unruffled composure. You never oan account for this, except
by acknowledging that our Lord was no ordinary man, meeting death as a mere
witness for truth, but that he was actually a sin-offering, bearing the weight of the
world's iniquities. His agony— His doleful cries — His sweating, as it were, great
drops of blood ; these are not to be explained on the supposition of His being
merely an innocent man, hunted down by fierce and unrelenting enemies. Had He
been only this, why should He be apparently so excelled in confidence and eom-
posure by a long line of martyrs and confessors f Christ was more than this.
Though He had done no sin, yet was He in the plaoe of the sinful, bearing the
ireight of Divine indignation, and made to feel the terrors of Divine wrath. Iimo-
«ent, He was treated as guilty ! He had made Himself the substitute of the guilty
— hence His anguish and terror. Bear in mind, that the sufferer who exhibits, as
you might think, so much less of composure and firmness than has been evinced by
many when called on to die for truth — bear in mind, that this sufferer has had a
world's iniquity laid on His shoulders ; that God is now dealing with Him as the
representative of apostate man, and exacting from Him the penalties due to unnum-
bered transgressions ; and you will cease to wonder though you may still almost
shudder at words, so expressive of agony — " My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even
unto death." {U. Melvill, B,D.) ChrisVs agony of $oul : — It is on the sufferings
of the soul that we would fix your attention ; for these, we doubt not, were the
mighty endurances of the Bedeemer — these pursued Him to His very last moments,
ontil He paid the last fragment of our debts. You will perceive that it was in the
soul rather than in the body that our blessed Saviour made atonement for trans-
gression. He had put Himself in the place of the criminal, so far as it was possible
for an innocent man to assume the position of the guilty; and standing in the plaoe
of the criminal, with guilt imputed to Him, He had to bear the punishment that
misdeeds had incurred. You must be aware that anguish of the soul rather than
of the body is the everlasting portion of sinners ; and though, of course, we cannot
think that our Lord endured precisely what sinners had deserved, for he could have
inown nothing of the stings and bodes of conscience beneath which they must
eternally writhe, yet forasuiuch aa He was exhausting their curse— a curse which was
to drive ruin into their soul as well as rack the body with unspeakable pain — we
might well expect that the soul's anguish of a surety or substitute would be felt
«!ven more than the bodily : and that external affliction, however vast and accumu-
lated, would be comparatively less in its rigour or accompaniments, than His
internal anguish, which is not to be measured or imagined. This expectation ia
certainly quite borne out by the statements of Scripture, if carefully considered.
606 TEE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. nr.
Indeed it is very observable that when onr Lord is set before us as exhibiting signs
of anguish and distress there was no bodily sufifering whatever — none but what was
caused mentally. I refer, as yon must be aware, to the scene in the garden, as
immediately connected with our text, when the Bedeemer manifested the most
inten(!e grief and horror, His sweat being as it were great drops of blood — a scene
which the most callous can scarcely encounter : in this case there was no nail, no
spear. Ay, though there was the prospect of the cross, there was hardly fear. It
was the thought of dying as a malefactor, which so overcame the Redeemer, that
He needed strength by an angel from heaven. That it was that wrung out the
thrilling exclamation : " My soul is exceeding sorrowful." It is far beyond us to
tel] you what were the spiritual endurances which so distressed and bore down the
lledeemer. There is a veil over the anguish of the incarnate God which no mortal
hand may attempt to remove. I can only suppose that holy as He was — incapable
of sinning in thought or deed — He had a piercing and overwhelming setfce of the
criminality of sin — of the dishonour which it attached to the world — of the ruin
which it was bringing on man : He must have felt as no other being could, the
mighty fearfulness of sin — linked alike with God and with man — the brethren of
sinners, and the being sinned against. Who can doubt that, as He bore onr trans-
gressions in our nature, He must have been wounded as with a two-edged sword —
the one edge lacerating Him as He was jealous of divine glory, and the other as He
longed for human happiness ? Though we cannot explain what passed in the soul
of the Redeemer, we would impress on you the truth, that it was in the soul rather
than in the body that those dire pangs were endured which exhausted the curse
denounced against sin. Let not any think that mere bodily anguish went as an
equivalent for the miseries and the tortures which must have been eternally exacted
from every human being. It would take away much of the terribleness of the future
doom of the impenitent, to represent those sufferings as only, or chiefly, bodily.
Men will argue the nature of the doom, not the nature of the suffering capacity in
its stead. And, certainly, a hell without mental agony, would be a paradise in
comparison with what we believe to be the pandemonium, where the sonl is the rack,
and conscience the executioner. Go not away from Calvary, with thoughts of
nothing but suffering a death by being nailed to a cross and left to expire after long
torture ! Go away, rather thinking of the horror which had taken hold of the soul
of the forsaken sufferer ; and as you carry with yon a remembrance of the doleful
spectacle, and smite your breasts at the thought of His piteous cry — a cry more
startling than the crash of the earthquake that announced His death — lay ye to
heart His unimaginable endurances which extort the cry : " My soul is exceeding
sorrowful, even unto death." {Ibid.) Blessings through ChrisVt soul-agony : —
It is this death — this travail of the soul, which from the beginning to the end of a
Christian liffl is effecting or producing that holier creature which is finally to be
presented without spot or wrinkle, meet for the inheritance of the saints in light.
It is in the pangs of the soul, that he feels the renewing influence of the Holy Ghost,
realized in the birth of the Christian character, who in any age of the world recovers
the defaced image of his God. I think it gives a preciousness to every means of
grace, thus to consider them as brought into being by the agonies of the Redeemer.
It would go far, were this borne in mind, to defend it against the resistance or
neglect, if it were impressed on you that there is not a single blessing of which you
are conscious, that did not spring from this sorrow — this sorrow unto death of the
Redeemer's soul. Could you possibly make light, as perhaps you now do, of those
warnings and secret admonitions which come you know not whence, prompting yoa
to forsake certain sins and give heed to certain duties, if yon were impressed that
it was through the very soul of the Redeemer being "exceeding sorrowful, even
unto death," that there was obtained for you the privilege of access to God by
prayer, or the having offers made to you of pardon and reconciliation ? Do you
think you could kneel down irreverently or formally, or that you could treat the
ordinance of preaching as a mere hiunan institution, in regard to which, it mattered
little whether you were in earnest or not f The memory that Christ's soul travailed
in agony to procure for you those blessings — which, because they are abundant, you
may be tempted to underrate — would necessarily impart a preciousness to the whole.
You could not be indifferent to the bitter cry ; you could not look languidly on the
scene as you saw the cross. This is a fact ; it was only by sorrow — sorrow unto
death of the Redeemer's soul — that any of the ordinary means of grace— those
means that you are daily enjoying, have been procured. Will you think little of
thoee means 7 WiU you neglect them ? Will you trifle with them ? Will you not
CHAP. XIV.] 8T, MARK,
rather feel that what cost so mnoh to bny, it must be fatal to despise ? Neither, as
we said, is it the worth only of the means of grace that you may learn from the
mighty sorrow by which they were purchased ; it is also your own worth, the worth
of your own soul. When we would speak of the soul and endeavour to impress men
witii a sense of its value, we may strive to set forth the nature of its properties, its
powers, its capacities, its destinies, but we can make very little way ; we show little
more than our ignorance, for search how we will the soul is a mystery ; it is like
Deity, of which it is the spark ; it hides itself by its own light ; and eludes by
dazzling the inquirer. You will remember, that our Lord emphatically asked:
" What shall a man give in exchange for his soul ? " It is implied in the question,
that if the whole world were offered in barter — the world, with all its honours and
its riches — he would be the veriest of fools who would consent to the exchange, and
would be a loser to an extent beyond thought, in taking creation and surrendering
his BouL Then I hear you say, " This is all a theory I " It may be so. " The
world in one scale, is but a particle of dust to the soul in the other ! We should
like to see an actual exchange : this might assure us of the untold worth that you
wish to demonstrate." And, my brethren, you shall see a human soul put on one
Bide and the equivalent on the other. You shall see an exchange 1 Not the exchange
— the foul exchange which is daily, ay, hourly 1 made — the exchange of the soul for
a bauble, for a shadow ; an exchange, which even those who make it would shrink
from if tliey thought on what they were doing — would shrink from with horror, if
they would know how far they are losers and not gainers by the bargain. The
exchange we have to exhibit is a fair exchange. What is given for the soul is what
the soul is worth. Come with us, and strive to gaze on the glories of the invisible
God — He who has grieved in the soul, " for He emptied Himself, and made Himself
of no reputation," that the soul might be saved 1 Come with us to the stable of
Bethlehem ! Come with ns to Calvary ! The amazing accumulation of which yon
are spectator — the fearful sorrow, on which you hardly dare to look — the agony of
Him who had done no sin — the agony of Him who was the Lord of glory — the
death of Him who was the Prince of Light — this was given for the soul ; by this
accumulation was redemption effected. Is there not here an exchange — an exchange
actually made, with which we might prove it impossible to overrate the value of
the soul f If you read the form of the question — '* What shall a man give in
exchange for his soul ? " you will see it implies that it is not within the empire of
wealth to purchase the soul. But cannot this assume the form of another question
— What would God give in exchange for the soul ? Here we have an answer, not
of supposition, but of fact : we tell you what God has given— He has given Himself.
(Ibid,) Complete resignation : — ^A minister, being asked by a friend, during his last
illness, whether he thought himself dying, answered : •* Eeally, friend, I care not
whether I am or not. If I die, I shall be with God ; and, if I live, God will be with me."
Instance of resignation : — During the siege of Barcelona, in 1705, Captain Carleton
witnessed the following affecting incident, which he relates in his memoirs : " I
saw an old officer, having his only son with him, a fine young man about twenty
years of age, going into their tent to dine. Whilst they were at dinner a shot
took off the head of the son. The father immediately rose, and first looking down
upon his headless child, and then lifting up his eyes to heaven, whilst the tears ran
down his cheeks, only said, * Thy will be done I "
Ver. 88. The spirit truly la ready, but the flesh is wealL — 1. I think, will
Bome say, that my sin is a sin of infirmity because it is but small. But if
yon look into 1 Sam. xv. you may read that Saul's sin, for which the Lord
rejected him, was of no great outward bulk ; for he spared the fatlings that he
might sacrifice thereby. A great many small sins may make as great a bulk as
one gross sin ; yea, possibly there may be much sinfulness and evil in committing
of a small sin ; for as amongst men, it is the greatest incivility to break with
another for a small matter ; so with God, to break with God for a small thing ; and
much skill may be seen in a small work ; a little watch, &o. So your skill in
sinning may be Been in a small sin; his sin is never small that thinks it small.
2. But I think my sin is a sin of infirmity because I am tempted to it, and because
I am drawn on by others. But, I pray, was not Adam tempted unto the eating of
the forbidden fruit by Eve? And was not Eve tempted by Satan ? And will you
call that a sin of infirmity that condemned all the world as Adam's sin did ? 3. But
I think my sin is a sin of infirmity because I do strive against it. And, I pray, did
not Pilate strive against the crucifying of Christ ? Possibly therefore a man ma;
608 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chaf. xir.
strive i^ainst hii iin, and yet the sin be no gin of infirmity. 4. But my sin is a
sin of infirmity because I am troubled after it. And was not Esau troubled after
he had sold his birth-right for a mess of pottage ; did he not seek it with tears ? I
do strive against it, and though I am troubled after it, yet it may be no sin of
infirmity. But as some are mistaken on the left hand, thinking that their sins are
sins of infirmity, when indeed they are not : so others on the right hand are
mistaken, and think that their sins are not sins of infirmity, but of a worse nature,
when indeed they are : and that upon these accounts : 1, 6b, paith one, I fear my
sin is no sin of infirmity, for I sin knowingly, and with deliberation ; I sin against
my knowledge, and against my conscience, and therefore my sin can be no sin of
infirmity. But for answer hereunto, you must know, it is one thing for a
man to sin knowingly, and another thing for a man to sin out of knowledge,
or against his knowledge. A man sins ignorantly when ignorance is the com-
panion of his sin only : a man sins out of ignorance, when ignorance is the only
cause of his sin, and not the companion only. 2. Oh, but I fear that my sin is
no sin of infirmity, because I fall into it again and again, and do lie in it. But do
ye know what it is to lie in sin ? There is much mistake about lying in sin. Now
if you do thus keep and lie in your sin, why do you so complain ? this your com-
plaining argues that there is some purging out, and therefore you do not lie in sin.
3. Oh, but I fear my sin cannot be a sin of infirmity, because I fall into it after I
have been admonished of the evil of it. To that I say no more, but desire you to
consider the instance that is here before you. The disciples slept, our Lord and
Saviour Christ comes and wakens them; yea, and He chides them too: "What
(saith He) cannot ye watch with Me one hour I watch and pray ; " and yet they
slept again : and He comes and wakens them again, and admonisheth them again,
and yet they slept again. Possibly, therefore, a man may fall into the same sin again
and again, yea, even after admonition, and yet it may be a sin of infirmity. Yet
how many poor souls are there, that are mistaken here on the right hand, and do
think that their sins are no sins of infirmity, when indeed they are. But if there
be such mistakes, how shall we then know whether our sins be sins of infirmity ?
1. Negatively, That is no sin of infirmity, which is a gross, foul, scandalous sin,
committed with deliberation and consultation. 2. If the sin be a ringleader unto
other foul sins, it is no sin of infirmity. The ringleading sin is the most heinous
sin. And you see how it is amongst men ; if there be a rebelUon or insurrection,
they take the ringleader and hang up him, for say they, This is the great trans-
gressor, for he is the ringleader. So amongst sins, the great sin is the ringleader ;
and therefore if your sin be a ringleader unto other foul eins, it is not a sin ol
infirmity. 3. A sin of presumption is not a sin of infirmity. Sins of presumption
and sins of infirmity are set in opposition one to the other in Numb. xv. and
Psalm xiz. And when a man doth therefore sin the rather because God is merciful,
or because the sin is but a sin of infirmity, or because he hopes to repent afterward,
or because his sin may and can stand with grace ; this is a sin of presumption, and is
no sin of infirmity : sins ol presumption are no sins of infirmity. 4. Again, If the
sin be a reigning sin, then it is no sin of infirmity, for when sin reigns, grace doth
not ; therefore saith the apostle (Bom. vi,), " Let not sin have dominion over you,
for ye are not under the law but under grace ; " and when sin reigns it is in its full
strength. But how shall we know, then, affirmatively, whether our sin be a sin of
infinnity? 1. Thus: If it do merely proceed from want of age in Christianity,
then it is, without doubt, a sin of infirmity. Babes are weak and full of weaknesses.
2. If it be no other sin than what is incident unto all the saints, then it is a sin
of infirmity ; for that sin which is committed by all the saints, is no reigning sin,
but ft sin mortified. 3. If it be such a sin as you cannot avoid, which breaks
in upon you before you are aware, even before you can call in for help from your
reason and consideration, and which the general bent and frame of your heart and
soul is against, then it is a sin of infirmity, for then it doth arise from want of strength
to resist, and not from will to commit. This was the case of Paul (Bom. vii.) when
evil was present with him, being against the general bent and frame of his soul ;
for saith he, " I delight in the law of God after the inward man, and yet the thing
that I would not do, that do I." 4. An infirmity will hardly acknowledge itself
to be a sin of infirmity ; but the person in whom it is, fears lest it should be worse.
If yoor sin do arise chiefly from some outward cause, it is a sin of infirmity ; for
then it is not so mneh from will to commit, as from want of strength to resist. The
sin which the apostle speaks of (Gal. vi. 1) is a sin of infijrmity, and the man that
commits it is said to be overtaken. Now when a man is upon his journey travelling
OHAT. hy.] ST. MABK, eO&
and is oyertaken by another person, his inward inclination and disposition was not
to meet the other : bo when a man is overtaken by sin, it argnes that his sin doth
proceed from some outward cause ; and when it doth proceed from some outward
cause, then he is truly said to be overtaken with it. 6. Infirmity loves admonition :
I mean, the person that sins out of infirmity, loves to be admonished, takes
admonition kindly, and doth bless God for it. 6. An infirmity discovers good,
though it be in itself evil ; it is an ill sin, but a good sign. The thistle is an ill
weed, yet it discovers a fat and a good soil ; smoke is ill, but it discovers fire. 7.
Sins of infirmities are servants and drawers of water onto your graces ; though in
themselves evil, yet through the overruling hand of God's grace, they will make
yon more gracious another way. Te know how it is with a young tradesman, who
hath but a small stock ; he keeps his shop diligently, and will not spend as others
do. If you ask him the reason, saying. Such and such men are of your trade, and
they will spend their shilling with us, and their time with us ; why will you not do
as they ? He answers presently. True, they do so, and they may do so, their estate
will bear it ; but as for me, my stock is small, very little, therefore I may not do as
they do, bat I must be diligent, and a good husband ; I am but a young beginner,
and have little skill in the trade, therefore it behoves me to be diligent. His very
weakness is the cause of his diligence. So here, the more infirmities that a
gracious soul labours under, the more diligent he will be ; and if you ask him, Why
do you take so much pains in following the means, and the like ? he answers, Alas,
I am a poor weak creature : such and such an one there is that hath an excellent
memory, all that ever he reads or hears is his own ; but my memory is naught, my
head and heart is naught, and therefore by the grace of God I will take the more
pains in following after Christ. Thus his very infirmity is a provocation unto all
his diligence. 8. Infirmity doth constantly keep a man's heart low, down, and
humble. If one have an infirmity in his speech, he will not be so forward to speak
as others are ; but being conscious of his own infirmity, he is always low, and
afraid to speak. So spiritually. But suppose that my sin be no other than a sin
of infirmity, what then r The third particular answers you. Then, your sin being
but an infirmity, Christ will never leave you for it, nor cast you off for it ; but^ il
you sleep. He will waken you ; and if you sleep again. He will waken you again.
Oh, what sweet grace is this. Is there no evil then in this sin of infirmity? Tes,
mnch, very much : for though it be a drawer of water to your grace, yet it is a
Gibeonite, a native, a Canaanite, that will npon all occasions be ready to betray
you, and to open the door unto greater thieves, and will always be a thorn and
goad in your sides ; and though it do not put out your light, yet it is a thief in
your cancUe, which may smear out mnch of your comfort, and blemish your duty.
Ye know how it is with a good writing pen ; H there be a small hair in it, though
the hair be never so little a thing, yet if it be not pulled out, it will blot and blemish
the whole writing sometimes. So may the sin of infirmity do ; your whole duty
may be blotted and blemished by this small hair, and although God can and doth
make use of your infirmities for to keep your graces, yet they are but your lees and
dregs, whereas your graces should be {dl refined. Oh, what an evil thing therefore
is it, for a man to be unrefined. And although Christ will not cast you off for a
sin of infirmity, yet you may provoke Him thereby to chide you, and to be angry
with you. The unbelief of the disciples was but their infirmity, yet Christ did
upbraid them because of their unbelief. Thirdly, Though there be much evil in
this sin, Christ will not cast you off for it. For it is an honour to a man to pass by
infirmities, saith Solomon ; much more is it for the honour of Christ to pass by the
infirmities of His people. The saints and people of God are in covenant with God
by Jesus Christ, and that covenant is a conjugal covenant (Hosea ii). Bnt what
husband will put away his wife for her infirmities ? That covenant is a paternal
covenant, and what father will thrust his child out of doors for his infirmities ? A
child, though deformed, is more pleasing to the father, because the child is his own,
than another b^utiful child that is not his own. If a master should tnm away
his servant for everj^ failing and weakiess, who would serve him ? Now, saith
Luther, what man will out off his nose because there is filth in it ? yea, though the
nose be the sink of the brain, yet because it is a member a man wUl not oat it off.
And will Christ out off one of His members, because there is filth in him, or some
weakness and infirmity in him ? "What father will knock his child on the head,
because a wart grows on his forehead r These infirmities in the saints and people
of God, are their warts, which grow in the face of their conversation : the blessed
martyrs themselvw had these warts : Hierom of Prague had a great wart upon him,
89
•10 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [cha». nw.
Cranmer another, Jewel another ; yea, if we look into that little book of Chronicles,
I mean Heb. zi., what saint is there mentioned upon record, but had one wart or
another? Had not Abraham his wart, in saying, that Sarah was his sister? Had
not Sarah hers in laughing ? Had not Jacob, Isaac, and Joseph theirs t Moses,
Eahab, Samson, Jephthah, and David theirs? Luther had his, and our reformers
theirs ; yet God owued, used, and honoured them. Surely therefore, though there
be much evil in a sin of infirmity, especially if a man faU into it again and again ;
yet Christ will not leave a man, or cast him off for it. If these things be true, then
what necessity is upon us, and what great cause have we to examine ourselves, and
to consider seriously, what sort of sins those sins are, which we labour under. But
it seems that all the sins of the godly are not sins of infirmity, and God will not cast
off a godly man for any sin : what advantage, therefore, hath this sin of infirmity
above other sins; or what disadvantage do the other sins of the godly labour under,
which this sin of infirmity doth not ? 1. Much, very much : for though my sin be
great ; yet if it be a sin of infirmity, it shall not hinder the present acceptance of
my duty. 2. Although my sin be great, yet if it be but an infirmity, it shall not
hinder the sense of my justification. 3. Though my sin be great, yet if it be but an
•ufirmity, there is a pardon that lies in course for it ; and though it be good to
repent of every sin, with a distinct, and particular repentance, yet it is not
necessary that there should be a particular repentance for every sin of infirmity.
4. Though a man's sin be great, yet if it be but an infirmity, it shall never bring a
scourge upon his family. And though my sin be great, yet if it be but a sin of
infirmity, it shall never spoil my gifts, nor make them unprofitable : if a man have
great gifts, praying, exercising gifts, and his life be scandalous, what saith the
world ? But suppose that upon due search and examination, I find that my sin is
no other than a sin of infirmity, which will not cast me off, although through my
weakness, I do fall into it again and again, what then ? Then several duties follow,
and accordingly you are to take up these, and the like gracious resolutions. 1. If
ray sin be a sin of infirmity, and no other, then through grace will I observe what
God's design is, in suffering and leaving such infirmities in me, and will labour
what I can and may, to promote and advance that design. 2. If my sin be but a
sin of infirmity, and God will not cast me off for it, then through the grace of God,
will I never believe these false reports of Christ, and those misrepresentations of
Him which Satan would put upon Him, whereby he would persuade me and others,
that our Lord Christ is a hard master. 3. If the Lord Christ will not cast me off for
my sins of infirmity, then, through the grace of God, I will not question my spiritual
estate and condition for every sin ; I will grieve for every sin of infirmity because
it is a sin, but I will not question my condition, because it is but a sin of infirmity.
4. Then will not I cast off myself and others for the sins of infirmities. Shall
Christ's eye be good and shall my eye be bad? 5. Then will not I cast off
the things of Christ because of any infirmity that may adhere to them, or the
dispensation of them. When Christ took our nature on Him, His deity was veiled
under our humanity, His excellency under our infirmity. So now, His grace and
His dispensations are veiled under the infirmity of our administrations : as for
-jxample : preaching is an ordinance of Christ, yet the sermon may be so delivered,
;7ith so much weakness of the speaker, that the ordinance of Christ may be veiled
under much infirmity. 6. And if the Lord will not cast me off for my infirmities,
'iien, through grace, I will never be discouraged from the performance of any duty.
I will pray as I can and hear as I can, and though I be not able to pray as I would,
I will pray as I am able ; and though I am not able to examine mino own heart as I
would, yet I will do what I am able, for the Lord will not cast me off for infirmities,
and therefore I will not oast off my duties because of them. 7, And, lastly, if the
Lord Jesus Christ will not oast me off for mine infirmities, then will I never sin be-
cause the sin is but a sin of infirmity. (W. Bridge, M.A.) Watch and Pray : —
Two points sx>ecially claim our attention here. I. Ths command oivbn — ** Watch
and pray." 1. Watch. The word is very simple. A physician watches a sick
man. A porter watches a building. A sentinel watches on a city's wall. (1) To
watch implies not to be taken up with other things. (2) To watch implies to expect
the enemy's approach. (3) Watching also includes an examination of the points
of attack. The physician will observe what course the disease is taking, what
organs it is likely to tonch. Thus he watches. 2. Pray. (1) This seems to refer
to a habit of prayer. Not a wild ory in danger or sorrow. (2) Special prayer
with reference to temptation is also implied. Prayer to be delivered from the pre-
4MMe of temptation, prayer for victory in temptation. U. Thb surrABnirrr or ths
xxT.] 8T. MARK. 611
wOMMAND TO THosB KZPOSBO TO TBMPTATiGN. 1. The two paits together form the
safegaard. Watohing supplies materials for prayer. Prayer makes watching eSeo-
toal. To pray only is presumption. To watch only is to depend on self. 2. The
command also suits us because of the enemy's subtlety. We need to discover his
wiles by watching. We pray for wisdom to discern his specious assaults. 3. And
because of our own weakness. (Compare vers. 29, 31, with 67, 68.) 4. It is
also suitable in consequence of our Lord's appointment. The battle is His. He
appoints its laws. And He has said, ** Watch and pray." The command speaks
thus to true disciples. What does it say to those who are careless and unbelieving ?
(W. 8. Brucgf M.A.) Prayer all comprehensive : — Prayer is not only request made
to God, but converse had with Him. It is the expression of desire to Him so as to
supply it — of purpose so as to steady it — of hope so as to brighten it. It is the
bringing of one's heart into the sunshine, so that like a plant, its inward life may
thrive for an outward development. It is the plea of one's better self against one'a
weaker self. It ntters despondency so that it may attain confidence. It is the ex-
pression smd the exercise of love for all that is good and true. It is a wrestle with
evil in the presence of Supreme Goodness. It is the ascent of the soul above time
into the freedom of eternity. (Christian World Pulpit.) The need for watchful-
ness : — It seems as though there were no word so far reaching as the word "watch."
Vigilance is the price of everything good and great in earth or heaven. It was for
his faithful vigilance that the memory of the Pompeian sentinel is embalmed in
poetry and recorded in history. Nothing but xmceasing watchfulness can keep the
heart in harmony with God's heart. It was a stormy, boisterous night. The dark
clouds hung over us, and the wind came with tenfold fury. The sea rolled in moun-
tains, and the proud ship seemed but a toy amid those tremendous billows. Far up
on the mast, on the look out, the sailor was heard to cry, " An iceberg on the
starboard-bow." " An iceberg on the larboard-bow I " The deck-officer called to
the helmsman, " Port the helm steadily 1 " and the sailors at the wheel heard and
obeyed. The officers were aroused, for there was danger on board to three hundred
precious souls. The captain spent a sleepless night, pacing the deck or cabin.
Gigantic icebergs were coming against the vessel, and eternal vigilance was the price
of our safety in that northern sea. And so it is all through human life. (Anon.)
Watchfulness: — Watching is never pleasant work ; no soldier really likes it. Men pre-
fer even the excitement and danger of the battle-field to the long weeks of patient
vigilance, which nevertheless may do quite as much as a victorious battle to decide
the issues of a campaign. Now it is just so in the spiritual war. The forces of
civiliaation rendered our soldiers more than a match for all the barbarous courage of
their swarthy foes, provided only by constant vigilance they were in a position to
use those forces ; and even so the omnipotence of God renders the true Christian
more than a match for all the forces of hell, provided only he too is sufficiently
vigilant to detect the approach of the foe, and sufficiently wise to confront him
with the courage of faith when his approach is detected ; but if he walks carelessly,
or fails to exercise proper vigilance, the battle wiU be lost almost before the danger
is realized, and Faith will forfeit her victory just because she was not ready to put
forth all the supernatural powers that she may command. It is, alas ! not an un-
eonmion thing to meet with Christian souls that seem to know something of the life
of faith, and yet, to their great surprise, find themselves overcome when they least
expect it. We observe sometimes a certain tone of petulance in these admissions of
failure, as if in their heart of hearts some sort of implication were oast upon the
faithfulness of God, although they would shrink from expressing this in so many
words. Now, dearly the cause of aU such failures must lie with us, and it will be our
wisdom to endeavour to discover it ; while it is the worst of folly to charge God
with unfaithfulness. What are we placed in this world for P Obviously that we
may be trained and developed for our future position by exposure to the forces of
evit Were we so sheltered from evil as that there should be no need for constant
watchfulness, we should lose the moral benefit which a habit of constant watchful-
ness induces. We know that it is a law of nature, that faculties which are never
employed perish from disuse ; and, on the other hand, faculties which are fully and
frequently employed acquire a wonderful capacity. Is not this equally true in the
spiritual world ? We are being trained probably for high and holy service by-and-by,
in which we shall need all those faculties that are now being qmckened and trained
by our contact with danger, and our exposure to apparently hostile conditions of
existence. We are to be trained, by learning quickness of perception of danger here,
to exercise qoiokness of perception in ministry and willing service yonder. Besides,
61S THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. nv.
Watchfulness oontinnally provides opportunities for faith, and tends to draw n»
the closer, and keep us the closer, to Him by whom alone wo stand. Were we to
be 80 saved from evil by a single act, as that we should have no further need ol
Watchfulness, should we not lose much that now makes as feel our dependenoe on
Him who is our constant safety? Have we not to thank God for the very dangert
that constrain us to keep so near Him if we are to be safe at all r Let us point ont
what Watchfulness is not before we go on to consider what it is. And I. Watch-
fulness IS SOMBTHINO QUITB DISTINCT FBOM NERVOUS TIMIDITT AND MOBBID APPBE*
HBNSIVBNE8S — the Condition of a man who sees an enemy in every bush, and i»
tortured by a thousand alarms and all the misgivings of unbelief. David did not
show himself watchful, but faithless, when he exclaimed, " I shall now one day
peribh by the hands of Saul ; '* and we do not show ourselves watchful when we
go on our way trembling, depressed with all sorts of forebodings of disaster. Let me
offer a homely illustration of what I mean. I was amused the other day at hearing
a soldier's account of a terrible fright that he had during the time of the Fenian
scare a few years ago. It fell to his lot one dark night to act as sentinel in the pre-
cincts of an important arsenal, which it was commonly supposed might be the scene
of a great explosion any night. The fortress was surrounded by a common, and
was tiierefore easy to be approached by evil-disposed persons. The night, as I have
said, was as dark as a night could be, and he was all alone, and full of apprehen-
sions of danger. He stood still for a moment fancying he heard something moving
near him, and then stepped backwards for a few paces, when ho suddenly felt him-
self come into violent contact with something, which he incontinently concluded
must be a crouching Fenian. " I was never so frightened," he said, " before o»
since in my life, and to tell yon the truth, I fell sprawling on my back. Imagine
my feelings when I found that the thing that had teiTified me beyond all descrip-
tion was only a harmless sheep that had fallen asleep a little too near my beat.**
Now, dear friends, I think that this soldier's ridiculous, but very excusably
panic may serve to illustrate the experience of many timid, apprehensive Chris-
tians. They live in a state of chronic panic, always expecting to be assailed by some
hostile influence, which they shall prove wholly incompetent to resist. If they foresee
the approach of any circumstances that are likely to put their religion to a test, they
at once make up their mind that fiasco and overthrow are inevitable ; and when they
are suddenly confronted by what seems an adverse influence, or promises to be a
severe temptation, they are ready to give all up in despair. They forget that our
Lord has taught us to take no anxious thought for the morrow, and has assured us
tbat sufficient for the day is the evil thereof. II. Nob aoaim does WAXCHFULNssa
CONSIST in morbid intbospectivenbss, OB in a disposition to charqe ourselves
WITH all sorts of IMAGINED FORMS OF EVIL. To their morbid sensibility everything
has depravity in it ; good and generous actions only spring from self-seeking ; every
natural affection is inordinate ; every commonplace gratification a loving of pleasure
rather than God. It is surely possible, believe me, dear Christian friends, to emu-
late the exploits of a Don Quixote in our religious life, and to run a tilt at any
number of spiritual windmills, but this is not watchfulness. A clerical brother of
mine, alarmed from his slumbers by a policeman who reported his church open,
imagined tbat he had captured a burglar by the hair of his head in the tower of his
church, when he had only laid violent hands in the darkness upon the church mop 1
It is quite possible to convert a mop into a burglar in our own spiritual experiences.
Just once more let me ask you to bear in mind that Watchfulness does not consist in,
and is not identical with, a severe affectation of solemnity, and a pious aversion to any-
thing like natural mirth or cheerful hilarity. I have before my eyes at this moment
the recollection of a dear and honoured brother, who, when something amusing had
been related at his table, suddenly drew himself up when he was just beginning to
join in the hearty laugh, and observed to me with much seriousness, " I am always
afraid of losing communion by giving way to levity.** I confess f admired the good
mail's conscientiousness, which I am sure was perfectly sincere, but I could not help
thinking that he was confusing between sombreuess and sobriety. III. But hav-
iug pointed out certain forms or habits of conduct which are not be mistaken
for Watchfulness, though they often are, liBT us proceed to inquire what Watch-
fulness is ; we have seen what it is not. And here it may be well to notice that
two distinct words, or perhaps I should say sets of words, in the Greek, are trans-
lated in our version by the one word — watch. The one set of terms indicates th«
necessity of guarding against sleep, and the other the necessity of guarding against
any form of moral intoxication and insobriety. Both these ideas are presented ta
xiT.] ST. MARK. ail
OS together in a single passage in the first Epistle to the TheasalonianB : " Let ns not
sleep as do others ; bat let as watch and be sober. For they who sleep sleep in the
night : and they that be dninken are dranken in the night." Here the two dangers
arising — the one from sleep, and the other from drunkenness — are brought before us at
once ; and the two words, which are each of them usually translated by the English
word — watch, are employed to guard us against these dangers. " Let us watch and
be sober." These dangers seem to be in some respects the opposites of each other
— the one springs from heaviness and dullness of disposition, and the other from
undue excitability. The one is the special danger incidental to monotonous routine
and a dead level of quiet regularity, the other is the danger incidental to a life
full of stir and bustle — a life where cares and pleasures, successes and failures, im-
portant enterprises and stunning disappointments, bringing with them alternating
experiences of elation or depression, are only too apt to prove all-engrossing, and to
exclude the vivid sense of eternal realities. The one danger will naturally specially
threaten the man of phlegmatic temperament and equable disposition, the other
will more readily assault the man whose nervous system is highly strung, whether
he be of sanguine or melancholic habit. In the present passage the call to watch
is coupled with the exhortation to pray, and similarly St. Peter warns us " to be
sober and watch unto prayer." This suggests to us that Watchfulness needs
first of aU to be exercised in the maintenance of our proper relations with God. If
only these be preserved inviolate, everything else is sure to go well with us ; but
where anything like coldness settles down upon our relations with God, backsliding
has already commenced, and unless it be checked we lie at the mercy of our foe.
Oh, Christian soul, guard with jealous care against the first beginnings of listless-
ness and coldness and unreality in thine intercourse with Godl Not less, perhaps
even more, do we need to watch in the other sense which, as I have pointed out,
the word bears in New Testament Scripture. Let us not only keep awake, but let
us be sober. We need to remember that we are in an enemy's land, and that un-
less we are constantly breathing the atmosphere of heaven, the atmosphere of earth,
which is all that we have left, soon becomes poisonous, and must produce a sort of
moral intoxication. How often have I seen a Christian man completely forget him-
self under the influence of social excitement 1 But I hasten to say, Do not let us fall
into the mistake of supposing that it is only the light-hearted and the pleasure-
loving that need to be warned against the danger of becoming intoxicated by worldly
influences. The cares and even the occupations of hfe may have just as deleterious
an effect upon us in this respect as the pleasures. Many a man of business is just
as much intoxicated with the daily excitements arising from the fluctuations of the
market or of the Stock Exchange, and just as much blinded to higher things by the
absorbing interests connected with money-making or money-losing as the votary of
pleasure can be at the racecourse or in the ball-room. Yet again. Watchfulness is
to be shown not only in maintaining our relations with God, in resisting any dis-
position to be drowsy, and in guarding against the intoxicating influence of worldly
excitement ; it is also to be shown in detecting the first approach of temptation, or
the first uprisings of an unholy desire. The careful general feels his enemy by his
scouts, and thus is prepared to deal with him when the attack takes place. Even
so temptation may often be resisted with ease when its first approach is discerned ;
but it acquires sometimes an almost irresistible power, if it be allowed to draw too
near. But I spoke a few moments ago of the importance of watching, not only
against the beginning of temptation without, but also against any disposition to
make terms with temptation within. Here, I am persuaded, lies, in most instances,
the secret cause of failure. Balaam was inwardly hankering after the house full of
silver and gold at the very moment when he affected to despise it. But there is a
danger on the other side, against which we have to guard with equal watchfulness.
And it is the danger of incipient self-complacency. {W, H. Aitken.) Advantage
of knowing one's weak point : — It is the interest of every man not to hide from
himself his ailment. What would you think of a man who was sick, aud attempted
to make himself believe that it was his foot that was ailing, when it was his heart ?
Suppose a man should come to his physician and have him examine the wrong eye,
and pay for the physician's prescription, founded on the belief that his eye was
shghtly bat not much damaged, and should go away, saying, " I am a great deal
happier than I was," although the doctor had not looked at the diseased eye at all T
li a man should have a cancer, or a deadly sore, on one arm, and should refuse
to let the physician see that, but should show him the well arm, he would imitate
what men do who use all deceits and delusions to hide their moral sores and weak-
•14 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap, xxf,
messes and fanlts, as far as possible, from themselyeB, from all persons, and then
congratulate themselves that they are not in danger. Watchfulness requires that
a man should be honest, and should know where he is, and where his danger is.
Let others set their watch where they need it, and you set yours where you need it.
Each man's watchfulness should be according to his temperament and constitution.
(H. W. Beecher.) Watching — a military figure : — Undoubtedly this is a military
ngure ; although watching may be a domestic figure, ordinarily it is military. A
tower, a castle, a fort, is not content with simply the strength of its walls, and its
various defences. Sentinels are placed all round about it, and they walk both night
and day, and look out on every side to descry any approaching danger, that the
soldiers within may put themselves at once in a condition to receive attack. Still
more are a moving army watchful, whether upon the march or in the camp. They
throw out advanced guards. The picket line is established by night and by day.
Men are set apart to watch on purpose that no enemy may take them unawares ;
that they may constantly be prepared for whatever incursion the chances of war
may bring upon them. It is here taken for granted that we are making a campaign
through life. The assumption all the way through is, that we are upon an enemy's
ground, and that we are surrounded, or liable to be surrounded, with adversaries
who will rush in upon us, and take us captive at unawares. We are commanded,
therefore, to do as soldiers do, whether in fort or in camp — to be always vigilant,
always prepared. (Ibid). Each to guard against hit own temptations: — Your
excess of disposition, your strength of passion, and your temptableness are not the
same as your neighbour's. Therefore it is quite foolish for you to watch as your
neighbour watches. Every man must set his watch according to his own disposition,
and know his own disposition better than anybody else knows it. If a fort is situ-
ated BO that the weakest side is on the east, the commander, if he is wise, will set
his watch there. He says, *' I believe that if I defend this point, nothing can do
me any harm," and sets his watch there. But suppose the commander of a fort,
whose weak place was on the west side, should put his force all on the other side 1
If he would defend his fort successfully, he should put his soldiers where it is weak.
Here is a man who watches against pride ; but your temptation is on the side of
vanity. It will not do for you to watch against pride, because pride is not your
besetting sin. There is many a man who flatters himself, that because his neigh-
bour has corrected his faults by gaining a victory over pride, all he himself needs
to do is to gain a victory over pride. He has no diflBculty in that, because he is
not tempted in his pride. It is very easy to watch against an enemy that does not
«xist. It is very easy to gain a victory where there is no adversary. {^Ibid.)
Watch against times of temptation : — Every man should know what are the circum-
stances, the times, and the seasons in which he is liable to sin. To make this
matter entirely practical, there are a great many who neglect to watch until the pro-
per time and seasons for watching have passed away. Suppose your fault is of the
tongue ? Suppose your temper takes that as a means of giving itself air and ex-
plosion ? Witii one man it is when he rises in the morning, and before breakfast
he is peculiarly nervous and susceptible. It is then that he is irritable. It is then
that things do not look right. Ajid it is then that his tongue, as it were, snaps,
and throws off sparks of fire. With another man it is at evening, when he is
jaded, and wearied with the oare and labour of the day. He has emptied himself
of nervous excitement, and left only excitability. And then is the time when he is
liable to break down in various ways. Men must set their watch at the time when
the enemy is accustomed to come. Indians usually make their attack at three or
four o'clock in the morning, when men sleep soundest ; and that is the time to
watch against Indians. There is no use of doing it at ten o'clock in the morning.
The^ do not come then. If it be when yon are sick that you are most subject to
malign passions, then that is the time when you must set your watch. Or, if it be
when you are well that the tide of blood swells too feverishly in yon, then that is
the time when you must set your watch. If, at one time of the day more than
another, experience has shown that you are liable to be tempted, then in that part
of the day you must be on your guard. Everybody has his hours, his times and
seasons, and his circumstances ; and every man should learn them for himself ; and
every man should set his watch then and there. And frequently, by watching at
the right time, you can easily carry yourself over all the rest of the day. (Ibid.)
The danger of dallying with temptation : — There is such a thing as dallying with
temptation. Many a maiden will insensibly, and step by step, ^low herself to b%
led to things that, if not wrong, are yet so near it that th^ he in tti y9Sj twilight i
IT.J ST. MARK. 61S
and she is all the time excusing to herself snoh pennissionB and snch dalliance,
saying, " I do not intend to do wrong ; I shall in due time recover myself." There
is many a man who takes the serpent into his hand, because it is lithe, and graceful,
and burnished, and beautiful, and plays with that which in some unguarded
moment will strike him with its poison fangs ; and it is poor excuse, when this
dalliance has led him to the very edge of temptation, and has struck the fatal poison
into him, for him to say, ** I did not mean to." The mischief is done. The damnation is
to come. And it is poor comfort to say, *• I did not mean to." Pass by it ; come not
near it ; keep far from it, and then you will be safe. But it is not safe for innocent,
or inexperienced, or unconscious, or inconsiderate virtue, to go, by dalliance, near to
things that carry in them the very venom of Satan. What should you think of a
man who, coming down to New York, should say, '• I have had quite an experience
this morning. I have been up to one of the shambles where they were butchering ;
and I saw them knock down oxen, and saw them cut their throats, and saw the
blood flow in streams from the great gashes. I spent a whole half-day there,
looking at men killing, and killing, and killing." What would you say of a man
who said, " I have been crawling through the sewers under the street ; for I want
io know what is at the bottom of things in this city ? " What kind of curiosity
would that be ? What would you think of a man who went where he could see the
offal of hospitals and dissecting rooms, and went wallowing in rottenness and
disease, because he wanted to increase his knowledge of things n g neral ? And
yet, here are men who take things more feculent, more fetid, luoie foul, more
damnable and dangerous — the diseases, the ulcers, the sores, and the filth of the
appetites and the passions ; and they will go wading and looking at things that a
man should shut his eyes on if they were providentially thrown before him. Why,
there are some things that it is a sin to look at twice. And yet there are men who
hunt them up 1 Then again, there are men who live so near to cheating that,
though they do not mean to cheat, circumstances cannot bend them without push-
ing them over. There are many men who are like an apple-tree in my garden,
whose trunk and roots, and two-thirds of the branches, are in the garden, and one-
third of whose branches are outside of the garden wall. And there are many men
whose trunk and roots are on the side of honesty and uprightness, but who are
living so near the garden wall that they throw their boughs clear over into the
highway where iniquities tramp, and are free. It is never safe for a man to run
BO near to the line of right and wrong, that if he should lose a wheel he would go
over. It is like traveUing on a mountain road near a precipice. You should keep
Bo far from the precipice, that if your waggon breaks down there is room enough
between you and the precipice. Otherwise, you cannot be safe. (Ibid.)
Ver. 39. And prayed, and spake the same -woTds.— Perseverance in prayer ;— We
may learn from this what we are to do in time of distress and affliction ; we are
not only to go to God by prayer for help, comfort, and deliverance; but we are to goto
TTim again and again : yea, often to call upon Him, and seek to Him in our distress,
to be instant and importunate with Pun; and bo to continue as long as the
affliction presses us. I. Pbaybb is a duty and bebvice which we owe to God, and
WHICH WE OUGHT CONSTANTLY TO PEBFOBM IN OBEDIENCE TO HiB WILL COMMANDING IT,
though otherwise we should reap no benefit by it to ourselves, nor even obtain the
things we ask. And here the very doing of our duty in uprightness of heart must
comfort us (2 Cor. L 12). IL Although God does not at once grant our petitions,
YET He takes notice of cub PBAYERS, and IB WELL PLEASED WITH THEM. III. ThEBB
ABE JUST CAUSES WHY GOD DOES NOT ALWAYS HEAB OUB PBAYEBS AT FIBST OB BPEEDELY ;
but delays, sometimes for long. 1. To exercise and try our faith, hope, patience,
and obedience in waiting upon Him. 2. To make us more fervent in prayer. ^ 3.
That the things we have asked, being for a time delayed, may be the more prized
by us when we get them. IV. The beason why God does not heab ub at fibst, or
BO Boon as we ded'-e, may be and often is in ourselves, viz., in the faultiness or
OUB PRAYERS. Either we ask such things as God does not see fit for us to obtain,
and then it is a mercy in Him to deny them to us ; or else we ask not in due
manner, we pray not in faith, or not witii such feeling and fervour as we ought ; or
else we are Uving in some sin unrepented of, which hinders the fruit of our prayer
(James iv. 2, 3 ; v. 16; Psalm Ixvi. 18). V. Though God has promised to hear our
prayers, and to grant our petitions, so far as is good for us, and is according to Hia
will ; YET He will not have us limit Him a time in which to do bo : nor is it fit
fox OB BO to do, bat we are to wait His leisure, convinced that by bo doing we shali
61« THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [ohaf. xnt.
lose nothing (Isaiah xzviii. 16 ; Psakn zl. i. YI. God hejlbs ovb, pbatzbs in diysbi
WAYS. 1. By giving as the things we ask. Hannah, a child; Solomon, wisdom;
<&c. 2. By giving us something as good, or better for us than that we ask ; e.g.
patience in time of trouble, and strength to bear it (2 Cor. zii. 7-10). 8. By giving
us inward comfort, by and in our prayers, and after them (Psalm xxzv. 18. 4. By
accepting our prayers as a service pleasing to Him. Now although God often delays
to hear us the first way, yet He always hears us one of these ways, and that as
soon as we pray to Him, if we pray in due manner, and as we ought ; which being
so, most encourage us to persevere, and hold out in prayer, when we do not im-
mediately obtain those petitions which we ask of God. (George Fetter.) Law-
fulness of iet forms of prayer : — Hence we may gather, that it is lawful for us to use
a set form of prayer : not only to ask the same petitions of God in effect and sub-
stance of matter at sundry times, but also in the same form of words, or well near
the same : yea, that this may be done even in private prayer alone by ourselves, for
such was this prayer now made by our Saviour. And if in private prayer alone
by ourselves (where usually more liberty may be taken to vary the form of words in
our prayers), then much more when we pray with others, especially in public, it
must needs be lawful to use a set form of words, and to ask the same petitions in
the same words. Our Saviour taught His disciples a set form of prayer, which is
that we call the Lord's Prayer, appointing both them and us to use it in the very
same form of words in which it is framed (Luke xi. 2). . . . And what are sundry
of David's Psalms, but set forms of prayer, used by the Church in those times? . . .
The Church of God has always used set forms of prayer in public and solemn
meetings, nor was the lawfulness of this practice ever questioned till of late times
by Anabaptists, Brownists, and such like. {Ibid.)
Ver. 40. He found them asleep. — Power of $leep : — The most violent passion and
excitement cannot keep even powerful minds from sleep ; Alexander the Great slept
on the field of Arbela, and Napoleon upon that of Austerlitz. Even stripes and
torture cannot keep off sleep, as criminals have been known to give way to it on the
rack. Noises, which at first serve to drive it away, soon become indispensable to
its existence ; thus a stage-coach, stopping to change horses, wakes all the pas-
sengers. The proprietor of an iron forge, who slept close to the din of hammers,
forges, and blast furnaces, would wake if tiiere was any interruption to them during
the night, and a sick miller, who had his mill stopped on that account, passed
sleepless nights until the mill resumed its usual noise. Homer, in his Iliad,
elegantly represents sleep as overcoming all men, and even the gods, exoept Jupiter
alone. (Christian Journal.)
Ver. 41. Sleep on now and take yonr ZMt — The night icene in Oethtemane : —
1. The first thought suggested by this text is that the Son of Man may even now
be betrayed into the hands of sinners. Men are apt to imagine that had they lived
in the time of Christ they would not thus and thus have treated Him. But they
who despise Him unseen would have spumed Him to His face. The enemies of
Christ's Church are the enemies of Christ. Even in our own day Christ may be
betrayed. He may be betrayed by His own disciples. The disposition to surrender
Him to enemies may still exist ; a disposition to secure the favour of the world at
His expense. In this sense, for example, it may well be said that the Son of Man
is betrayed into the hands of sinners when the truth respecting Him is given up to
errorists, or cavillers, or infidels ; when His divinity is called in question ; when
His eternal Sonship is degraded or denied; when the sinless perfection of His
human nature is tainted by the breath of dubious speculation ; when His atonement
is disfigured or perverted ; when the vadue of His cross and bloody passion is de-
preciated ; when His place in the system of free grace is taken from Him and
bestowed on something else. To mention one other example ; Christ is betrayed
into the hands of sinners when His gospel is perverted ; His example dishonoured ;
and Himself represented as the Minister of sin. O Christian ! have you evev
tibought that every inconsistent and unworthy act of yours is one step towards be.
tTraying Him whom you profess to love ? 2. Another thought which I suggest is,
that when the cause of Christ is about to be betrayed into the hands of sinners.
His disciples are to watch unto prayer, lest they enter into temptation. 8. Anothei
thought, and that a melancholy one, is, that when Christ's disciples are thus left U
watch, whilst He is interceding with the Father, they too often fall asleep. Som^
in the touchiog language of tibte gospel, may be " sleeping for sorrow." Bat oh t
«XAV. znr.] 8T. MARE, 617
iiow many others sleep for sloth arxd spiritual iuclifference. It is no time to sleep.
The Church, Christ's weeping bride, and the d>ing souls of men are at your pillow,
«hrieking in your ears, like the shipmaster in the ears of Jonah, '• What meanest
thoa, 0 sleeper ? Arise ; call upon thy God, if so be that God will think upon us,
that we perish not." 4. But, alas ! this warning voice is often heard in vain.
Amidst a world lying in wickedness, amidst the untold miseries produced by sin,
amidst the fierce attacks of open enemies on the Son of Man, His friends, His
chosen friends, sleep on. And that sleep would prove to be the sleep of death, if
we had not an High Priest who can be touched with the sense of our infirmities,
and when He sees us thus asleep, comes near and arouses us. There may be some
before me now, who, though sincere believers, have been overcome by sleep. Your
senses and your intellects may be awake, your conscience has its fitful starts and
Intervals of wakefulness when scared out of its slumbers by terrific dreams. But
yom: affections are asleep. You hear the gospel, but it is like the drowsy lull of
distant waters, making sleep more sound ; you see its light, but with your eyelids
closed, and so subdued is its splendour that it only soothes the sense and deepens
Its repose. If this is your experience, I appeal to you, and ask you whether, even
in this dreamy state, you have not felt the gentle hand of Christ at times upon you.
Has not your house been visited by sickness ? But it is not only in personal afflic-
tions that the Saviour rouses you. Have you not felt His hand in public trials ?
Have you not felt it in the trials of the Church ? Have you had no signal mercies
flinoe you fell asleep ? Besides the voice of personal afflictions, and of public trials,
and of private mercies, there is a voice in public mercies too. But when our Lord
had for the third time fallen prostrate and arisen, when He came a third time to
BUs friends, and found them sleeping, He no longer expostulated ; He no longer
asked whether they could not watch with Him one hour. There is something far
more awful in this mild but significant permission to sleep on, than in all the in-
fectives or reproofs He could have uttered. '♦ Sleep on henceforth, and take your
rest." That this may not prove to be indeed the case, we must arise and call upon
oar God ; we must come up to the help of the Lord against the mighty. But, oh t
remember, that the weapons of our warfare are not carnal. When the pre-
fltimptuous Simon was at last aroused, and saw his Master's danger, he thought to
atone by violence for past neglect. And many a modem Simon does the same.
When once aroused they draw the sword of fiery fanaticism. But is there no danger
from an opposite direction ? Is it any consolation that the sword is in its scabbard,
if the bearers of the sword are fast asleep instead of watching ? (J. A, Alexander, DJ).)
Vers. 42, 48, 45, 46. He that betrayeth Me U at hand.—The betrayer:— I. Wb
•XX IN HIM WHAT BELIOIOITS PBIVILEOX8 AHD ADTANTAOES IT IS POSSIBLB TO ENJOY,
AND YXT BE DESTiTTJTX OF VITAL PIETY. How imprcssively docs the fatal example
of Judas admonish the hearers of the gospel, the members of Christian churches,
and especially the junior members of Christian families. Value your privileges, but
do not rest in them. Improve them, profit by them ; bnt do not confide in them.
Say not, " We have Abraham to our father ; *' "the temple of the Lord are we."
XI. Wx SEX IN Judas what melancholy consequxncks the induloencb of one
BiNTUL PB0PEN8ITY MAY INVOLVE. Most men have some easily besetting sin ; some
propensity which is more powerful, some passion which more readily than others
overcomes them. Let the young, especially, endeavour to ascertain what that is,
each in his own case. The besetting sin of Judas was avarice. Notwithstanding his
association with that purest, loveUest one, whose peerless elevation of character and
disinterested benevolence appeared in all He said and did, Judas caught no portion
of his magnanimity ; there was in him none of the nobleness of mind which dis-
tinguished His master. His was always a mean, sordid, grovelling spirit. He was
one of those grubs with whom you sometimes meet in society, who will do anything,
bear anything, sacrifice anything for money ; who have no idea of worth but
wealth ; who reverence none but those who bear the bag ; whose reverence increases
as the purse distends ; if, indeed, they do not envy still more than they reverence
even these. Ton may know them by their gait. There is always something low,
shuffling, tortuous, sinister in their looks, and in their movements. They have
^nerally one hand in the pocket, fingering about their silver or their copper gods.
Their eyes are almost always cast on the ground, as Milton saw that Mammon, the
meanest of all the devils, had his eye fixed on the golden pavement of the nether
world. Bat though his besetting sin was avarice, Judas does not seem to have been
•ware of it, or he did not watch against it ; and, as it often happens, he was placed
618 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [ohat. nv.
in a eitnation which tended to draw it ont, and to strengthen it. He was tht
treasurer of the little society with which he was connected. He kept the bag, and
had the management of their pecuniary matters. His hand was often in that money
bag ; his eye was almost constantly upon it ; and his heart was always with it. The
melancholy effect of this was, that avarice soon grew into thievishness ; the tempta*
tions presented by his office, though in themselves exceedingly trifling, were too power*
f ul for his avaricious propensities to resist. What an idea of the character of Judas,
this transaction gives us ! — Of his meanness, his low, sordid avarice I This is
seen in the paltry sum which he agreed to take as a sufficient recompense for so
foul a deed. For a few pieces of sUver he would deliberately clothe himself with
everlasting shame. — Of his hardness of heart. This is seen in the time during
which he maintained his resolution. This fearful deed was not done in the hurry of
a moment ; it was a deliberate act, it was Wednesday when he made the agreement
with the chief priests ; it was Friday morning before it was carried into execution.
During that time he repeatedly saw his Lord. How oonld he meet His eye ? He
was present at the last supper ; and when Jesus said, ** One of yon shaU betray
Me," he inquired, as well as the rest, ** Is it If " His callousness appears also in
the manner in which he betrayed the Redeemer — with the very token of affection ;
and he did it in the presence of his brethren. Lord, what is man ? Such were
some of the melancholy consequences of indulging, instead of watching against
and subduing, his easily besetting sin. To derive from his example the instruction
it is calculated to yield, we must endeavour to enter into his views and feelings ;
to understand how he felt and how he reasoned. A remark or two may assist ns
here. It is evident we observe, in the first place, that he had not the slightest
apprehension of the Eerious consequences of his treachery. It was not his wish
to inflict any pain on the Bedeemer, or to do Him any injury; and nothing was
farther from his thoughts than that he was delivering Him up to death. He was
not a cruel monster who thirsted for human blood, and laughed at human woe. He
belonged not to the savages of the French revolution, nor to the ferocious men of
our own country, whose deliberate murders attained for them considerable notoriety
some few years since. He was a poor despicability, who loved money above aU
things, and cared not to what meanness he submitted in order to secure it ; but
he had no sympathy with deeds of cruelty and blood. It would appear that he
was as fully persuaded of the Messiahship of Jesus as any of the apostles ; but
in exact proportion to the strength of this conviction would be his confidence
that Jesus could not suffer ; as in common with the rest of his nation, he believed
that the Christ would continue for ever. It is also possible that, in making the
offer to deliver his Master into the hands of the chief priests and rulers, he may
have been influenced in some measure by resentment. While at sapper in the
house of Simon the leper, a pious woman anointed our Lord with very precious
ointment. This conduct was censured by Judas and his brethren as an act of
useless prodigality, but was vindicated and commended by our Lord as an act of
5iety which should receive honourable mention wherever the gospel was known.
'his incident may have greatly displeased Judas; for he appears to have gone
directly from the house of Simon to the palace of the high priest ; and it is not im-
possible that, in taking this step, avarice was quickened by resentment. But, as
we have repeatedly intimated, the prevailing motive was love of money. By the
habitual indulgence of his avariciousness, he had become the blind slave of that
sordid passion. All generosity of sentiment, all nobility of mind, all sense of
integrity and honour, had become extinct. In our own day persons have been
known to perpetrate, with their own hands, the most atrocious murders under the
sole influence of cupidity. It was not that their victims had done anything to
offend them ; it was not that they regarded them with any feelings of hostility ; and
yet they watched them carefully for successive days, drew them into their meshes,
and then deliberately, and without the sUghtest compunction, murdered them.
Like Judas, they did it for what they could get by it ; and, in some instances, the
wages of their iniquity were not greater than his. It is, we believe, an undeniable
fact, that certain persons, well known to those who require their services, and to
others connected with them, may be hired at any time, in the metropolis of England,
for half-a-crown, deliberately to perjure themselves. It is not that they have any
interest in the case, or that they have any wish to injure one party, or to benefit
another ; like Judas, they do it simply for what they can get by it These illustra-
tions, it most be confessed, are taken from the very dregs of society — ^the lowest
deptba of social d^;radation« But if we look to higher regions, we shall find
IT.] 8T, MARK, «18
illustrations in ftbondanee, and of a character seareely less affecting. It is, we
believe, a fact, that there are persons employed in Christian England in casting idols
for the Indian market. Christian people make these gods and ship them out tc
India for sale. There they work amongst the teeming millions of that vast
continent, deceiving, degrading, destroying the souls of men. It is not that these
idol-makers have any faith in the gods which they make ; it is not that they have
any interest in the prevalence of idolatry, or any wish that it should continue to
curse the world ; as in the case of Judas, their only object is what they can get by
it. Take, for instance, the case when a question of vital interest is agitated, the con-
stituency of the country is appealed to, the happiness of millions is involved in the
issue, and how do many of our electors act ? Some do not concern themselves in the
least abont the merits of the question ; but make it known that their suffrages are iv
the market, and that the highest bidder may secure them. Others have their opinions,
but lures are presented, promises are made if they will vote in opposition to their con-
victions ; and they do it. They thus sacrifice what they beheve to be the truth, and
the best interests of their country, at the shrine of mammon. It is not that they
hate their fellow men : it is not that they wish to injure their country ; but they act
as Judas did ; he sold his Master for thirty pieces of silver, and they sell their country
for what they can get for it Very much of this spirit is found amongst professedly
religious people. Many are influenced in their selection of the place of worship
they attend, or the church they join, chiefly by the prospect of gain which it holds
out to them. If there be in a congregation one or two wealthy and benevolent
families, yon are almost sure to find many there ; some because it is respectable, and
others because there is something to be got by it. We once heard a Christian pastor
relate the following : — N. S- and his wife were members of the church at ; they
avowed great attachment to the church, and great affection for the pastor, from
whose ministry they professed to derive much good. They removed on account of
business to some distance, where they had the advantage of attending a very faith-
ful ministry, and of associating with a united flock. Bat that church was not like
their own ; it was not home to them, and the preaching was not Uke that of their
minister. Often did they come a considerable distance, and at no small in-
convenience, to enjoy the privilege of a Sabbath-day amongst their own friends.
After some time they were brought back again to their old neighbourhood ; and
now everything was so delightful— Sabbaths, week-day services, intercourse with
friends — it was all so good. A few months passed away, and it was observed that
N. S. and his wife had lost much of the ardour of their zeal, and had grown slack
in their attendance. Their pastor called on them one day to inquire of their wel-
fare. N. S. seemed low, and had very little to say ; he did remark, however, that
he had received very Uttle encouragement from his own friends and fellow members
in the way of business, but that Mr, L. T. (a leading man in another conununity)
had been very kind to him, that his bill for the last quarter amounted to the sum
of £ — . A word to the wise is enough. The minister remarked when he left the
house, ** The bait has taken ; N. S. will soon find some pretext for leaving us, and
will go over to the ." And so it was. Oh, Judas, thou art not dead ; thy spirit
lives, and works amongst as in ten thousand ways. ** Every man looketh for his
gain from his quarter." III. Thk ohabaoteb of Judas is still fubtheb instbuo-
TIVB TO us, AS IT SHOWS HOW DEBPLT HBN MAT BOBBOW FOB SIN, AND TET BB
DESTiTUTX OF OEKTTiirB coNTBiTioM. We remark further that the repentance of
Judas led him to make every reparation in his power. His sorrow was sincere,
inward, deep ; and he did not keep it to himself. Judas not only confessed his sin,
but he also honoured, publicly honoured Him who suffered through his treachery ;
" I have sinned in that I have betrayed the innocent blood." And this is not all ;
Judas not only honoured the Redeemer who suffered through his treachery, but he
also threw back the wages of iniquity : " He oast down the pieces of silver in the
temple, and departed." The price of innocent blood he eould hold no longer. This
indicates a great change in his views and feelings. His repentance, therefore,
seems not only to come exceedingly near to that which is spiritual and saving, but
absolutely to include its great elements. (/. J. Davie$.) The possibilitiet of a
human life illtutrated by the downfall of the traitor .-—The career of Judas is simply
— L Am sxaxplx of the mbanimo of tbuptatioii. Man is under no iron law which
compels him to sin. He does as he does, not because he ha» to, but because
he wiUt to. The stress of habit may become desperate, but it is the sinner's
own aei that has brought him into such a state. So it was with Judas Intelli-
gMtUy, deliberately had he leaned the whole weight of his obdurate heart against
S90 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap. xir.
that door of mercy which the Saviour would have opened to him. In the very
face of his destiny, with its notes of doom sounding louder and louder, like the
peals of distant bells as one approaches the town, he went straight on to hia
deed. In selfishness and avarice he has cherished base suggestions, till they
fastened their ruinous hold upon him. A pilferer, grown to be a thief, soon be-
came a monster, balancing an innocent life against thirty denarii. II. Thb socibtt
OF THE worthy DOES NOT INSURE LIKENESS TO THEM. The Uou will crave blood
wherever he is, and the buzzard be scenting carrion in every breeze. There is no
salvation in friendships. There may be restraints, there is no certainty. Illl
Treachery always fails to make good its pledges. Falseness never pays.
Judas was promptly given his price ; but with it a burden, whose nature he little
divined at the first. So long as he must carry this, his treasure was cankered. He
thought by giving it back to find relief ; but none was there. He could not imagine
he should soon be seeking to hang himself, rather than prolong the moments that
he might enjoy abundance. Whatever our infidelity, whether financial or social or
religious, we must reap as we have sown. Condemnation is certain. There is only
One whose voice can silence it. Confession of Him means everything. Betrayal
of Him involves the loss of all hope and well-being. Repentance may not be pos-
sible for sucb. Eepentance would have sent the guilty out by himself to weep
bitterly ; but remorse could find no stopping-place short of the halter. {De Witt
S. Clark.) The traitor : — 1. Observe here Christ's meekness. He requires us to
submit to the blows of our enemies. He submitted even to their kiss. How
gracious the self-control that could allow such a liberty I 2. Apostasy should be
very earnestly guarded against. When we fall, we fall not merely to the level we
left, but to one much lower. 3. The very manner in which Christ was betrayed
commends Him and condemns Judas. For is not the kiss itself an acknowledgment
that love and homage were the things to which the Saviour was entitled ? And if
his act admits Christ's worth, how self-condemned he stands for practising treason
against One whose right is love. 4. The cause of Christ is frequently betrayed still,
with a kiss. Deadly attacks on it often contain complimentary acknowledgments of
its worth. Sometimes the wicked life can adopt a bearing of punctilious respect-
fulness to everything religious. (R. Glover.) Foes within the fold the most
tiangerous : — ^Natural, domestic, and home-bred enemies, are of all other the most
hurtful and dangerous enemies of Christ and of His Church. I say, of Christ and of
His Church, because there is the same reason of both ; for such as are enemies of
Christ, are also enemies of His Church, and so on the contrary. Judas was the
worst and most dangerous enemy of all those that came to apprehend our Saviour ;
be did more than all the rest toward the effecting of this wicked plot against Christ ;
he was a guide to them all, and the very ringleader in this enterprize. He had
opportunity and means to do that against our Saviour, which all the rest without
hiiu could not have done ; that is, to entrap and betray Him. He knew the place
where our Saviour used to resort, and at what time usually ; he knew where and
when to find Jesus, viz., in the garden at Gethsemane (John xviii. 2). Besides, he
being so well acquainted with Him, was better able than all the rest of the com-
pany to discern our Saviour, and to descry Him from all others in the dark. And,
lastly, he by reason of his familiarity with Christ, might have access to Him to
salute Him with a kiss (as the manner of those times was), and to betray Him. So
that by all this it appears that Judas, being one of our Saviour's own disciples, was
in that respect the most dangerous enemy to our Saviour of all those who came to
take Him. And as it was with Christ the Head of the Church, so is it with the
Church itself, and all true members of it. Their worst and most dangerous enemies
are commonly intestine and home-bred enemies, which lie hid amongst them, and
are near them in outward society, and join in outward profession with them. These
are usually worse than open and professed enemies, who are out of the Church. In
the times of the Old Testament, the false prophets and counterfeit priests, and other
close hypocrites which arose and sprang up in the Church itself, did more harm in
it than the open and professed enemies of God's people. So in the time of the New
Testament, the false apostles, heretical teachers, and false brethren, did more hurt
the Church than cruel tyrants and open persecutors of the Church. As Luther used
to say, ♦' Tyrants are bad, heretics worse, but false brethren worst of aU." As they
are commonly most malicious, so they have most opportunity to do hurt. And as it
is in the Church of Christ in general, so also in Christian families (which are, or
ought to be, as little churches), commonly a man's worst and most dangerous enemies
are those of his own house, if it so fall out that these turn against him. (Qeorgi
SAP. ziv.] ST. MARK. 621
Petter.) The Jttda$-»pirit still rife : — ^We may see in Judas a true pattern and
lively image of hypocriiioal, false, and coonterfeit Christians, who make a show of
love to Christ, and of honouring Him, when in reality they are enemies and
despisers of Him. These salute Christ by calling Him, " Master, Master," and by
kissing Hun ; and yet betray Him, at one and the same time, as Judas did. Many
such Assembling and hypocritical Christians there are, and always have been, in
the Church. 1. Such as make outward show of holiness and religion in their con-
duct before men, and yet live in secret sins unrepented of. These by their outward
show of holiness seem to kiss and embrace Christ, but by their unreformed lives
betray Him (Matt, zxiii. 28 ; 2 Tim. iii. 5). 2. Such as profess Christ and the
gospel of Christ, and yet live profanely, wickedly, loosely, or scandalously, to the
dishonour of Christ's name, and the disgrace of the gospel which they profess,
causing it to be evil spoken of (Luke vi. 46; Eom. ii. 24). 3. Such as pretend love
to religion, and yet are secret enemies to it at heart, seeking to undermine it. 4.
Such as make show of love to good Christians, but oppose them underhand and
seek to bring them into trouble and disgrace (Gal. ii. 4 ; 2 Cor. xi. 26). Let us
take heed we be not in the number of these false-hearted Christians ; and to this
end we have need diligently to examine ourselves, touching the truth and sincerity
of our love to Christ and His members, and whether our hearts be sincere and up-
right in the profession of Christ's name and truth. Also, whether our life and
practice be answerable to the profession we make ; for, otherwise, we are no better
than Judas, kissing Christ and yet betraying Him. We speak much against Judas,
and many cry out against him for his treachery in betraying Christ with a kiss ;
but take heed we be not like unto him, and as bad as he, or worse in some respect.
{Ibid.) The betrayal: — I. Thb person. Judas: praise. One of the chosen
twelve. Our Lord must have foreseen this when He called him. The call of Judas
facilitated fulfilment of Scripture. Called "the traitor" (Luke vi 16); "son of
perdition (John xvii. 12). Avaricious ; dishonest in choice of means for securing
what he may have deemed a lawful end. H. The motive. Various motives have
been imputed. 1. Sense of duty in bringing Jesus to justice. But consider Acts
iv. 15, 23 ; v. 27-40 ; where the high priests, &c., are silent when they might have
repeated the charges of Judas. Especially note Matt, xxvii. 4. 2. Resentment
(oomp. Matt. xxvi. 8-17; John xii. 4, 6). But two days elapsed before the deed
was executed. Resentment would have subsided. 3. Avarice (Matt. xxvi. 15). But
had this been the chief motive, he would surely have bargained for a larger sum,
and not have sold his Master for less than £4, as he did, nor would he afterwards
have returned it. 4. Ambition (consider John vii. 31; Matt. xvi. 16, xix. 28), by
some thought to be the true motive. To him Jesus was King. He would force
Jesus to declare Himself. If Jesus were made a king, what might not he (Judas)
become ? He knew the power of Jesus, and thought that, at the worst, Jesus would
escape from danger (Luke vi. 30; John viii. 59, x. 39), hence Matt. xxvi. 48 was
ironical. He believed the Messiah would never die (John xii. 34). Contrast the
ambition of Judas with the lesson of humility he had heard. 5. Demoniacal pos-
session (John xiii. 27). HI. The time. Significant — the Feast of Passover. Type
and anti-type. Multitudes at Jerusalem. Witnesses of these things (Acts ii. 5-36).
Many had beheld His miracles and heard of His fame in other parts. Night — a fit
time for a dark deed (John iii. 19). IV. The manner — a kiss. Perhaps Judas was
sincere, after all, and meant this as a friendly act to force Jesus into an avowal of
His kingship. If so, then one may be wrong though sincere, and mere sincerity
will not save (Prov. xvi. 25). V. The effect. 1. To Judas. 2. To Jesus. 3.
To ourselves. Learn — 1. God maketh the wrath of man to praise Him. 2.
Ofl&cial standing, a power for evil in the hands of the unprincipled and ignorant.
8. Shows of friendship may be tricks of treason (Prov. xxvii. 6). 4. Seek to be not
only sincere, but right. 6. The fulfilment of Scripture, a proof of the Messiahship
of Christ. 6. If He be the only and true Saviour, have we accepted Him ? {J. Comper
Gray.) Our Lord's apprehension: — L The time of Christ's apprehension.
'• While He yet spake." The Saviour was preparing Himself by fasting and prayer.
He was exhorting and strengthening His disciples against the scandal of the cross.
Now He was determined to be taken. Note here the incomprehensible providence
of God, in that all the powers of the world could not apprehend Him till thi>) time.
IL The person apprehending. 1. His name. A Rood name ; signifying blessing
or praise. Yet what a wretch was he I what a discredit to his name ! 3. His
office. One of twelve. A disciple turned traitor. (1) Christ had admitted him not
to Hii presence only, bat to His near fellow^p and society. (2) Not to that only.
622 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOB. [oha». nf.
bat to apostleship. (3) He had made him steward of His hoase and treasurer of
ffis family ; for He entrusted him with the bag. (4) He had conferred on him high
gifts of knowledge and power to work miracles. What ingratitude, then, was his !
8. His attendants. (1) A great company of soldiers. ^2) To these were joined
captains of the temple, and some of the chief priests ana elders. (3) There were
gathered to him also a great many of the priests' and elders' servants. 4. The
originators of the attack. The scribes and Pharisees. III. The manner or ths
APPREHENSION. A kiss. 1. Pre-arranged. 2. Executed. What treachery 1 The
salutation of friendship debased to such a purpose ! {Dr. Thomas Taylor.) TJu
mystery of the call of Judas to the apostleship ; — With reference to the call of Judas to
the apostleship, we look upon it as only one of the innumerable mysteries in God's
moral government, which no system of philosophy can solve at all, and which even
Christianity solves but in part, reserving the final answer for a higher expansion ol
our faculties in another world. It involves the whole problem of the relation of God to
the origin of sin, and the relation of His foreknowledge and fore-ordination to the free
agency of man. The question why Christ called and received Judas into the circle
of His chosen twelve, has received three answers, none of which, however, can be
called satisfactory. 1. The view held by Augastine and others, namely, that Christ
elected him an apostle not, indeed, for the very purpose that he might become a
traitor, bat that, through his treason, as an incidental condition or necessary
means, the Scriptures might be fulfilled, and the redemption of the world be accom-
plished. This view, as Dr. Schaff observes, although it contains an element of
truth, seems, after all, to involve our Lord in some kind of responsibility for the
darkest crime ever committed. 2. The Bationalistic view, which is incompatible
with our Lord's Divine foresight, that Jesus foresaw the financial and administra-
tive abilities of Jada», which might have become of great nse to the Apostolic
Church, bat not his thievish and treacherous tendencies, which developed them-
selves afterwards, and He elected him solely for the former. We cannot see how
this view can be held by any one who believes'in our Lord's divinity. 3. The view
held by Meyer and many others, namely, that Jesus knew the whole original cha-
racter of Judas from the beginniuR, before it was properly developed, and elected
him in the hope that the good qualities and tendencies would, under the influence
of His teaching, ultimately acquire the mastery over the bad. But this implies
that oar Lord was mistaken in His expectation, and is therefore inconsistent with
His perfect knowledge of the human heart. Alford despairs of solving the difficulty.
Two things are clear from this sad subject : 1. The absolute necessity of a change
of heart ; without this, privileges, however great, may be abused to one's destruc-
tion: and 2. The danger of covetousness, or love of the world. This seems to
have been the cause of Judas's ruin. For the rest, we must leave it to the light of
a higher state of existence. (Christian Age.) Incidenti of the arrest : — I. Tmi
ABBiVAii ON THE SCENE OF JuDAS AND HIS COMPANIONS. While Judas bcHeved that
Jesus was shortly to appear in great glory as the predicted King of the Jews, he
followed Him loyally. " Hephestion," said a certain great personage of history,
" loves me as Alexander, but Craterns loves me as king." So we may ventore to
say Judas did once upon a time love Jesus, not, indeed, as Jesus, but as king. ** He
was the father of all the Judases," remarks a Puritan, " who follow Him, not for
love, but for loaves ; not for inward excellencies, but for outward advantages ; not
to be made good, but to be made great." II. The panic. How are we to explain
it ? Was it the power of the human eye, like that by which the lion-tamer quells
the lion ? This has been suggested by a modem critic. Was it magic ? This was
said by an ancient reviler. Was it all in the mere fancy of the simple folk who told
the tale ? This notion has found much popular favour. For my own part, be-
lieving, as I do, that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, this phenomenon does not
strike me as unlikely or unexpected. Put out your hand, man, and arrest the loco-
motive when it comes thundering into the station, making the ground tremble ;
arrest the shot as it bursts blazing from the lip of the cannon ; arrest the lightning
as it stabs the cloud before it strikes the tree ; arrest a ray of light, catch it and turn
it out of its course ; arrest the tidal wave, as King Canute essayed to do ; arrest the
force now traveUing under ground, and which, as the scientific prophet tells us, is next
year to burst out in many earthquakes 1 If you really could succeed in these arrests,
and turn back these natural powers, could you arrest their Lord Himself t UL
The oaptdbb. IV. A blow struck pob Jesus — " And behold one of them which
were with Jesus stretched out his hand, and drew his sword, and struck a servant
of the high-priest's and smote off his ear." Y. The appxakanob ow ▲ Touiro kab
0SAP. ziv.] 8T. MARK. 631
IN k lilRXH CLOTH HB« CLAIMS OONSIDBBATIOll. VI. Th« GREAT FOBSASINd — " Then
all the disciples forsook Him and fled." Ton pardon a politician when he forsakes
a cause that he once thought perfect, because he has now found out its glaring im-
perfections : you pardon a theorist when he forsakes a theory that he once thought
perfect, because he has now found out its fallacies ; you pardon a merchant when
he forsakes a concern that he once thought perfect, because he has now found out
that it is hollow : yon pardon one man when he forsakes another as his own con-
fidential friend, though once, thinking him perfect, he had been ready to do any-
thing or bear anything for him, with no incentive but a wish, and no reward but a
smile ; if now he has found him oat to be a person not safe, not true, not to be
trusted. Bat he who forsakes Christ forsakes perfection. We can challenge any
man to say that he thought Him perfect once, but that he has now found stains on
that snow, spots in that sun. {Charles Stanford^ D,D,)
Yer. 50. And they all forsook Elm and fled. — The deierters :~-We may take
three views of the desertion of oar Lord on this occasion ; that event may be con-
■idered with reference to the deserters, to the deserted, and to ourselves. I. The
desertion of oar Lord may be considered with reference to thb apostles. In this
▼lew it affords an affecting instance of the inconstancy of man. The desertion of
oar Lord by the apostles affords also a proof of the melancholy consequences of the
adoption of false notions. Men are sometimes found, it is true, both better and
worse than toeir respective creeds ; but it is undeniable that, whatever sentiment
we really embrace, whatever we truly believe, is sure to influence our spirit and
conduct. The apostles, in common with the Jews generally, had fully adopted the
notion of a personal reign of the Messiah, of a temporal and worldly kingdom.
Hence, ambition, of a kind (in their circumstances) the most absurd and unnatural,
took full possession of their minds. They expected to be the chief ministers and
counsellors of state of the largest, and, in every respect, the greatest empire in the
world, an empire which was destined to absorb all others, and to become universal.
Think of such a notion as this, for a few illiterate fishermen of one of the obscurest
provinces of the civilized world ! I do not say that it would have been otherwise —
that they would steadfastly have adhered to their Lord, and have gone with Him to
prison and to death, if they had been entirely quit of their false notions, and had
had right views of the spiritual nature of His kingdom ; for temptation, danger,
fear, may overcome the strongest convictions ; but it is easy to perceive that their
false notions contributed to render them an easy prey to the enemy, while more
correct views would have tended to prepare their minds for iti& trial, and to fortify
them against it. We may learn from this how important it is that we should take
heed what we believe. Let as prove all things, and hold fast that which is good.
n. The desertion of Christ by the apostles may be considered with reference to our
LoBD Himself ; and here it may be viewed in two aspects : as an aggravation of His
saflerings, and as a proof of His love. 1. As an aggravation of His sufferings. It
shoold not be forgotten that our Lord was made in all points like nnto His brethren.
He had all the affections, passions, feelings, of human nature just as we have ; the
great difference being that, in as they are constantly liable to perversion and abuse,
while in Him their exercise was always healthful and legitimate. In the language
of prophecy, also, He complains of the desertion of His friends : *' I looked for some
to take pity, but there was none, and for comforters, but I found none." *' Of the
people there was none with Me." As ** bone of our bone," as subject to all the
■ympathies of oar common humanity. He felt it deeply, and on many accounts,
when Jadas came, heading a band of ruffians, and betrayed Him with the very token
of affection. He felt it deeply when Peter denied Him in His very presence with
oaths and curses. He felt it deeply when *' they all forsook Him and fled." 2. This
melancholy event may be considered further as a proof of the greatness of the
Saviour's love. He met with everything calculated not only to test His love, to
prove it! sincerity and its strength ; but also to chill, and to extinguish it. But as
it was self-moved, it was self- sustained. Many waters could not quench it. All the
ingratitude of man could not destroy it ; all the powers of darkness could not damp
its ardour. *' Having loved His own who were in the world. He loved them to the
end." Perhaiw the unfaithfulness of the apostles was permitted, that Jesus might
taste of every ingredient of bitterness which is mingled in man's cup of woe ; that,
being tempted in all points like unto His brethren, He might be able to (qrmpathize
with, and to saooonr them in their temptations. It may have been permitted,
also, in order to show that there was nothing tu deserve His favour in the objects of
«M THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [ohaf. xrr.
His love. Say not that your sins are too great to be forgiven, or your heart too
depraved to be renewed. Only trust Him : His grace is sufficient for you. And
let this encourage the unhappy backslider, notwithstanding his frequent desertion
of his Lord, to return to Him. Jesus did not disown the apostles, though they
deserted Him in His distress ; but after His resurrection He sent to them, by the
faithful women, messages of tenderness and love : " Go," said He to Mary Magda-
lene, *' go to My brethren, and say unto them, I ascend unto My Father and your
Father; to My God, and your God." And to the other women, "Go, tell My
brethren that I go into Galilee, and there shall they see Me." IH. We proceed to
consider this melancholy event with reference to oubselves. We may learn not a
little from it. We may use it as a mirror in which to see ourselves. Some may
see in it, perhaps, the likeness of their own conduct to their fellow-men. When
you thought they did well for themselves, then you blessed them. When you knew
they did not need you, you followed them, and were at their service. When all
praised tLem, yon also joined in the laudation. But circumstances changed with
them ; and you changed too. The time came when you might really have served
them, but then you withdrew yourself. Others may see in the desertion of the
apostles, the likeness of their own conduct to the Saviour. Oh I how many desert
Him in His poor, calumniated, persecuted brethren ? How many desert Him in His
injured, oppressed interest ! Many will befriend and applaud a mission, a religious
institution, a Christian church, a ministry, while it receives general commendation
and support ; but let the great frown upon it, let the foul breath of calumny pass
over it and dim its lustre, let the bleak winds of adversity blow upon it, and blast
it ; and where are they then ? They are scattered, and gone every one to his own.
We may learn from this event to solace ourselves under some of the severest trials
which can befall us in the present world. Surely there are few things more bitter
than this — to be deserted, when we most need their assistance, by those on whose
friendly offices we are entitled to rely. But we may learn from this event not to
wonder at it ; it is no strange thing. We must not wonder, then, if when we are
most deeply interested in any great undertaking, if when our labours and sacrifices
for the good of our fellow-oreatures are most abundant, or when our afflictions and
sufferings are most severe, that is to say, if when we most need the sympathy and
support of our friends, we should be left most entirely to ourselves. Let us solace
ourselves in God. " Yet I am not alone, for the Father is with me." Let us live
more in communion with Him. Let us look less to creatures, and more to the
Creator. Let us depend less on outward things, and more on God. Finally, let us
learn to anticipate the hour in which our most ifaithful friends must leave us. Oh I
to have the great and good Shepherd with us then ! " Though I walk through the
valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil ; Thou art with me ; Thy rod and
Thy staff they comfort me." (/. J. Davies.)
Vers. 61, 52. And he left the linen cloth, and fled from them nalced.— Ha«f« in reli-
gion:— It strikes me that this " certain young man " was none other than Mark himself.
He was probably asleep ; and, aroused by a great clamour, he asked what it was about.
The information was speedily given — " The guards have come to arrest Jesus of
Nazareth." Moved by sudden impulse, not thinking of what he was doing, he
rises from his bed, rushes down, pursues the troopers, dashes into the midst of their
ranks, as though he alone would attempt the rescue, when all the disciples had fled.
The moment they lay hold upon him his heroic spasm is over ; his enthusiasm
evaporates ; he runs away, leaves the cloth that was loosely wrapped about his body
behind, and makes his escape. There have been many who acted like Mark since
then. First, however, you will say, "Why suppose it to be Mark? "^ I grant you
it is merely a supposition, but yet it is supported by the strongest chain of probabi-
lities. It was common among the evangelists to relate transactions in which they
themselves took part without mentioning their own names. Whoever it was, the
only person likely to know it was the man himself. I cannot think that any one
else would have been likely to tell it to Mark. Again, we know that such a transaction
as this was quite in keeping with Mark's common character : the evangel of Mark
is the most impulsive of all the evangels. He is a man who does everything straight-
way ; fnU of impulse, dash, fire, flash ; the thing must be done, and done forthwith.
Onoe more : the known life of John Mark tends make it very probable that he
would do such a thing as is referred to in the text. As icon as ever Paul and Bar-
nabas set out on their missionary enterprise they were attended by Mark. As long
as they were sailing across the blue waters, and as long as thqr were in the island
. xiT.] ST. MARK. 625
of Cyprus, Mark stuck to them. Nay, while they travelled along the coast of Asia
Minor, we find they had John Mark to be their minister ; but the moment they
went up into the inland countries, among the robbers and the mountain streams —
as soon as ever the road began to be a little too rough, John Mark left them. His
missionary zeal had oozed out. For these reasons, the supposition that it was
John Mark appears to me not to be utterly baseless. I. Hebs ib hastt followiko.
John Mark does not wait to robe himself, but just as he is, he dashes out for the
defence of his Lord. Without a moment's thought, taking no sort of considera-
tion, down he goes into the cold niglit air to try and deliver his Master. Fervent
zeal waited not for chary prudence. There was something good and something bad
in this, something to admire as well as something to censure. Beloved, it is a good
and right thing for us to follow Christ, and to follow Him at once ; and it is a brave
thing to follow Him when His other disciples forsake Him and flee. Would that
all professors of religion had the intrepidity of Mark I The most of men are too
slow ; fast enough in the world, but, ah 1 how slow in the things of God 1 Of all
people that dilly-dally in this world, I think professed servants of God are the most
drowsy and faddling. How slothful are the ungodly, too, in Divine things ; tell
them they are sick, they hasten to a surgeon ; tell them that their title-deeds are about
to be attacked, and they will defend them with legal power ; but tell them, in God's
name, that their soul is in danger, and they think it matters so little, and is of so
small import, that they will wait on, and wait on, and wait on, and doubtless con-
tinue to wait on till they find themselves lost for ever. The warnings of the gospel
all bid you shun procrastination. I do beseech you fly to Jesus, and fly to Jeaua
now, though even it should be in the hurry of John Mark. I change my note.
There is a haste that we most reprove. The precipitate running of Mark suggests
an admonition that should put you on your guard. I am afraid some people make
a hasty profession through the persuasion of friends. Nor are there a mere few
who get their religion through excitement. This furnishes another example of inju-
dicious haste. Many profess Christ and think to follow Him without counting the
cost. They had never sought God's strength ; they had never been emptied of their
own works and their own conceits ; consequently, in their best estate they were
vanity ; they were like the snail that melts as it crawls, and not like the snowflake
upon the Alps, which gathers strength in its descent, till it becomes a ponderons
avalanche. God make you not meteors or shooting stars, but stars fixed in their
places. I want you to resemble, not the ignis faiuus of the morass, but the steady
beacon of the rock. There is a phosphorescence that creeps over the summer sea,
but who is ever lighted by it to the port of peace ? And there is a phosphorescence
which comes over some men's minds. Very bright it seems, but it is of no value ;
it brings no man to heaven. II. It remains for me to notice ths hastt BUNNma
AWAT. Some who run well at first have hardly breath enough to keep the pace up,
and so turn aside for a little comfortable ease, and do not get into the road again.
There are two kinds of desertion which we denounce as hasty running away ; the
one temporary, the other final. Think what a fool Mark made of himsell Here
he comes ; here is your hero. What wonders he is going to do 1 Here is a Samson
for you. Perhaps he will slay his thousand men. But, no ; he runs away before
he strikes a single blow. He has not even courage enough to be taken prisoner.
How everybody in the crowd must have laughed at the venturesome coward — at the
dastardly bravo 1 Therefore abstain from these inconsistencies for your own cha-
racter's sake. Besides, how much damage yon do the Church 1 And think what
must be the dying bed of an apostate. Did you ever read of " the groans of Spira '*?
That was a book circulated about the time of the Beformation — a book so terrible
that even a man of iron could scarcely read it. Spira knew the gospel, but yet
went back to the Church of Bome. His conscience woke on his dying bed, and his
cries and shrieks were too terrible to be endured by his nurses; and as to his
language, it was despair written out at full length in capital letters. My eminent
predecessor, Mr. Benjamin Keach, published a like narrative of the death of John
Child, who became a minister of the gospel, but afterwards went back to the Ohurob
from which he seceded, and died in the most frightful despair. May God deliver
yoa from the death-bed of any man who has lived a professed Christian, and dies
an apostate from the faith I Bat what must be the apostate's doom when hie
naked seal goes before God ? ((7. H, Spurgeon,)
Yet. 63. And they led Jesns away to the High Priest— CAtitt before thepriette .•—
L Gits aiis^ixxon to zhx xwo Hioq Fbissts with WHoac thx teial or Jbsos bxoab
40
696 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap. or.
n. Thb mtdnioht oouMcn. of tbiers. For blind men to be fair critics of Turner, for
bats to be fair critics of sunshine, for worms to be fair critics of the open air, would
be more conceivable than the possibility of men like these being fair judges of
Jesus 1 How could such sinners understand the Holy One of God ? Besides their
unfairness from natural unfitness, there was unfairness from the fact that they were
desperate conspirators, plotting against His life. lU. How He was tried. (Charle*
Stanford^ D,D.).
Ver. 54. And Peter followed Him afex ofS.— Following afar of ;— A young mac,
it is told, was for several months in a backsliding state, which manifested itself in
the usual way, — of conformity to a fashionable and unholy course of life, and a
neglect of the ordinances and institutions of the house of God. During this time he
called on a deacon of the church, who was a watchmaker, and asked him to repair
his watch. ** What is the difficulty with your watch ? " said he. " It has lost
time lately,'* said the young man. The deacon looked at him with a steady and
significant eye, and said, ♦♦ Haven't you lost time lately ? " These few words brought
the backslider to repentance, to the church, and to duty. Peter's fall : iu lessons : —
I. Who FOLLOWED Him afab off? *' Peter." 1. Then seniority and leadership in
the church are no guarantee against falling into sin. In the order of choice, Peter
was the oldest of the apostles. He was also their recognized leader. Peter is the
last man that should have ** followed afar oS," both because of seniority and
leadership, and the blighting influence that would naturally and inevitably result
from his conduct. The power of leadership involves tremendous responsibility. 2.
Then a man may backsHde while blessed with the most faithful and efficient gospel
teaching. Peter's experience shows that a man may sin shamefully while blessed
with the most perfect gospel teaching. 3. Then a man may backslide while blessed
with the most affectionate pastoral care. Jesus foresaw his dangers; told him of the
enemy's purpose ; warned him of this very fall, and in the true pastoral spirit bore
him to God in prayer : •♦ I have prayed for thee." Surely no man was ever blessed
with such pastoral solicitude and fidelity, and yet, in spite of it all, Peter fell. 4.
Then high professions of loyalty and love are not always to be relied upon. Peter's
assurances partook somewhat of the nature of boasting. Great natures never
burden you with vows and assurances. They are the product and sign of a weak,
unreliable character. Peter soon found out, however, that it is one thing to make
vows in the heavenly atmosphere of the upper room, but quite another thing to
pay those vows amid the provocation of Gethsemane, and the excitement of the
judgment hall. I have heard of a little boat that carried such an immense whistle
that it took all the steam to blow it ; so, whenever it whistled it stopped nmning.
Too many in our churches are like that little boat ; the whistle of their profession
is too big for their supply of steam. It takes all their energy to blow it, to tell of
their attainments, and what wonders they are goiug to do. (T. Kelly), Following
Christ afar off : — I. Let us inquibe, in the outset, concerning the siOMiFioANca
or THIS ACTION OF SiuoN. 1. The facts are very simple. When Christ retrieved
the folly which this impetuous disciple had committed, and healed the ear of
Malohus, it does not appear that the magnaminity of the Master had any effect in
mitigating the malignity of the mob. Simon's stroke with his unusual weapon,
instead of checking those belligerent people bearing swords and staves, came very
near exasperating them. He simply put himself and his friends to flight, and then
Uie crowd had it all their ovra way. It is a mournful record to read : " They all
forsook Him and fled." But now, after this sudden and useless panic, it appears
that at least two of our Lord's followers rallied their courage a little. They turned
upon their flying footsteps, and started after the melancholy train. These were
Peter and John. And the whole force of the dramatic incident we are studying ia
disclosed in the contrast of their behaviour. John ran with a will. As in the race
afterwards for Christ's sepulchre he easily distanced Peter (John xx. 4), so now he
arrived first in the palace. Moreover, he soon showed how brave he was, and how
much in earnest to retrieve his temporary defection he was, by urging his way
directly through all obstacles into the very apartment where Jesus had been taken
for trial ; he ** went in with Jesus, bat Peter stood at the door without " (John xviii.
16, 16). 2. The meaning of all this is what makes it so important One has no need
of being deceived ever as to the exact commencement of any defection from Christ.
Baokaliding is earliest in the ** heart," then it shows itself in one's ** ways " (Prov.
xiT. 14). Absalom was a rebel while as yet he made no overt attack on his father's
The younger son was a prodigal before he started for the far oonntiy.
0B4P. zrr.] 8T. MARK, 627
Peter was a renegade aod a poltrooD from the earliest instant in which, listless and
halting, he had begun to follow Jesus only " afar off." For an analysis of his ex-
perience would nave disclosed three bad elements. 1. There was petulance in it.
Simon's self-love was wounded when Jesus administered the somewhat extensive
rebuke he had received (Matt. xxvi. 52-54). He felt himself aggrieved. His defec-
tion began with sullenness. We cannot doubt that his countenance fell ; he wore
an injured expression. 2. There was distrust in his experience. We have seen that
there was some reason for all the disciples to apprehend violence, instantaneous and
passionate. Peter was fully responsible for that. The immediate result of his rash-
ness was danger rather than deliverance. But could not Jesus be relied upon for
rescue f Was not John fully protected afterwards ? 3. There was unbelief in his
experience. This disciple evidently had become ashamed of his adhesion to Jesus
as the Messiah. An omnipotent Son of God was in his estimation for the moment
letting things go too far, when He suffered Himself to be apprehended by a rabble
and maltreated in this way without a word. Perhaps Simon lost confidence in His
cause. If the words of Matthew are to be taken literally (xxvi. 68), this disciple did
not follow Jesus, even afar off, so much from affection as from curiosity ; he went
into the palace not to see Jesus, but to " see the end." U. Let us go a step farther
now, AND INQUIRE CONCERNING THE RESULTS OF THIS BEHAVIOUR OF PeTER. 1. It tOOk
him away from Christ's personal presence. There was always to this disciple a
peculiar exhilaration and help in the companionship of his Divine Lord. Under the
shining of His countenance he constantly grows humble, gentle, and affectionate.
Just as Mercury, that feeblest of all the planets in our solar system, seems most
brilliant when likeliest to disappear, because nearest the sun, so Simon actually
appears at his best when he is the most outshone ; and the moment he wanders, he
wanes. Duty is to most of us what this personal leadership was to the disciples.
If we follow our religious duties close up, they will bring us near Jesus. 2. Again,
this behaviour separated Peter from the sympathy of Jesus' adherents. In union
there is strength. Those disciples ought not to have allowed themselves to be
scattered during the trials of that passover night. For together they would have
helped each other very much. Now we do not know what became of any of them
except John. If Peter had been sitting by John's side he certainly would have been
safer. He was easily inffuenced, and the beloved disciple soon recovered his courage
and loyalty. Whenever professed Christians are seen to be falling away from each
other by following the Master afar off, there is reason for alarm in reference to their
spiritual interests. Only sin is solitary, and only guilt loves to live alone. Hence
there is vast wisdom in the ancient counsel that believers should not forsake the
assembling of themselves together, as the manner of some is (Heb. x. 25). 3. More-
over, this behaviour threw Peter hopelessly into the companionship of his enemies.
Peter fell into bad company the instant he fell out of good. in. It is time fob
us to inquire concerning the real cause of Simon Peter's defection that night.
1. It would not be enough to ascribe it just to a sudden fright of alarm. 2. It was
because his piety, at that period of his history, was fashioned more by feeling than
by principle. Peter's spirituality blew in a gusty sort of way because his theological
groundwork was faulty. We remember more than one occasion when he deliberately
interfered with our Lord's communication of the doctrine of the atonement. As a
master, a teacher, a leader, he loved Jesus personally; there he rested. Jesus away,
he failed. Soft gales do not always waft to the heaven ; they the rather often aid
in an nnperceived drift towards the open sea. Simon loved to have all things
beautiful and serene. He was the man who grew ecstatic on the mount of trans-
figuration, and proposed that Jesus should stay there. His sensibilities were
so shocked at the thought of the Saviour's maltreatment, that he protested
against the official act of sealing the covenant of redemption with blood. The
words were characteristic : ** This shall not be unto Thee " (Matt. xvi. 22).
Now let it be remembered that for nobody is there any hope of standing firm
under stress of opposition, if his piety has been nurtured only in tender hours
of emotional enjoyment. Spiritual impulses will be dangerously irregular and
intermittent unless they have the help of steady purpose underneath. Carpenters
never cut ships' knees from tropical palms. The grand doctrines of the cross
must be wrought into the very fibre of one's soul, as the granite soil and the
winter tempests of the mountains are wrought into the gnarls of the oak which the
shipwright loves. That is to say. Christian character is reared out of a determinate
wrestle with sin. IV. Finally, i.bt us inquire concerning the admonition which
m guoaE8TKi> BY THIS BEHAViouB OF Peteb. 1. How cau this sin be repeated in ooz
•28 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap. nf.
time ? We follow Jesus afar off when we refuse to defend the doctrines of redemp-
tion before unbelievers who scoff at a blood atonement — when we allow the rules and
institutions of the Christian Church to be derided or belittled in our hearing— whe»
we neglect the ordinances of God's house and refuse the fixed practice of family
devotion — when we strain Christian liberty to see how much of indulgence in world-
liness an unattacked church-membership will bear. There is no difficulty whatever
in modern experience in the way of repeating Peter's wrong. 2. It is a bette*
question to ask, How can this sin of following Christ afar off be avoided in our
time ? John, and not Peter, is our pattern. The way to escape the taunts of maid-
servants in the hall is to go right up the steps into the presence of Jesus. It touches
us to the heart to read the words which show how well Simon understood all his
cowardice and folly long years afterwards (1 Pet. v. 6-10). (C. S. Robinson, D.D.)
Ver. 55. All the eotmcil sought for witness agralnst Jesus. — Tfie Council:-'
Jesus before the Jewish Council: — The world, in its best moods, exalts justice;
and, in its worst moods, defeats it. Everything depends on the mood for the time
being. Multitudes on the first day of Holy Week strewed the way with their
clothes for their king to ride over ; it was their mood. Only five days later a mob,
bearing lanterns and torches, sought Him as if He were a thief, and led Him a
prisoner over that same highway. The mood had changed. Mob law prevailed.,
L The tribunal. No gathering of star-chamber was ever more lawless. 1. The law
decreed that no court should sit before sunrise ; this trial followed immediately
upon the midnight arrest — while Jerusalem was asleep. 2. The law required that
any one accused should have an advocate ; here the Nazarene stood alone, with
none to question in His behalf. 3. The law demanded that witnesses should be
summoned for every prisoner ; here no one was called to testify. 4. The judge
of that court was Caiaphas, who had already declared the necessity of the death
of Jesus, in order that the factions of the people might be harmonized. 5. Like
a travesty reads the record : " The chief priests and all the council sought for
witness against Jesus to put Him to death. " Their aim was to establish guilt, not
to find justice. 6. It was the law that no sentences of death should be passed
upon the same day as the trial ; yet, in spite of their subterfuge, declaring the
sentence of death just after sunrise, it was on the same day, since the Jewish day
began at evening. II. The indictment. Full of flaws. Hopelessly confused.
Even the testimony of bribed witnesses was too inconsistent to be of any use.
The only seeming ground for a charge was a distortion of a saying in His earlier
ministry concerning the destruction of the temple which He called His body, but
which they declared was the pride of Jerusalem ; but even this was no crime, as
oven His judges knew. Their case had failed. Their miserable charges were not
sustained. UI. The prisoner. The one sinless Person among men. No enemy
has ever found a flaw in His pure character. No charge, even of haste or
imprudence, has ever been preferred. By His greatness and goodness, He throws
all other human attainments into obscurity. 1. The best character is no protection
against human hatred. The higher the character the more isolated it stands.
The treatment accorded the Master will be meted out to His disciples. Persecu-
tion for righteousness' sake is a natural outcome of being righteous. 2. The best
character does not always command friendship in the time of trial. It is not an
infallible mark of piety to be always surrounded with friends. IV. The sentence.
Death, that cry of assassins ; death, cold, and cruel, blanching in a moment the
ruddiest face ; death, the breaking down of human life ; death, the guardian of
the cross ; this was the word they hissed out — " He is guilty of death." To beckon
such a death the laws of Moses and of the Bomans were torn to shreds ; mockery
clothed itself in ermine ; Pilate washed his guilty hands ; and priests and rabble
shouted themselves hoarse. {David O. Hears.) The Sanhedrin : — The Council
of the Jews, commonly called the Sanhedrin, was composed of seventy-one
persons. It consisted of three Courts or Houses, — ^the Sopherim, or Teachers of
the Law, the College of the High Priest, and the house of the Elders. The
president, or head of the Council, bore the title of Nasi, and was not necessarily
the High Priest. In Numbers xL 16, we read that God commanded Moses to call
together seventy of the Elders of Israel, and to put his spirit upon them. The
Council was composed in like manner of seventy, to represent these Elders, chosen
and ordained by Moses, and the seventy-first, the president, represented Moses ;
bvt as the Council was summoned by Moses, and not by Aaron, the High Priest
was not necessarily the head of it. This president, or Nasi, was Also called th«
out, SIT.] 8T, MARK $3$
Prinoe of Israel, and mast be of the house of David, and the office beeame for
many generations an inheritance of the family of Hillel, which descended from
David. The First, or Upper House, was the House of the Lawyers, and it had ori-
ginally supreme control of life and death. But when the Romans conquered Palestine,
and converted Judea into a Roman Province, then this power was taken from them,
and all those cases which had been tried by the Court of the Lawyers were heard
by the Eoman Preetor. This House accordingly was practically dissolved ; it had
nothing to do, the sceptre was taken from it, and its lawgiver was divested of all
power. The Second House was that of the Chief Priests ; at the head of it sat the
High Priest, and it was made up of the heads of the twenty-four priestly families
and of the heads of the departments connected with the ministry in the Temple.
The members all bore the title of" Chief Priests" (apxwpcTc)- They decided in all
spiritual matters, as to faith and heresy. This House remained in full activity
after the practical abrogation of the First, and thus the High Priest became the
virtual head of the Jewish Council. The Third House was that of the Elders, and
was made up of representatives of the great Jewish families and of Babbis of
note. They went by the name of the " Elders,*' and continued to sit along with
the Second House. {S. Baring Gould, M.A.)
Ver. 61, 62. But He held HIb peace. — Eloquent silence: — ^There is » silence which
is often more eloquent than speech, means more than any words, and speaks tea
times more powerfully to the heart. Such, for example, is the silence when the
heart is too full for utterance, and the organs of speech are choked by the whelming
tide of emotion. The sight of a great man so shaken, and quivering with feeling,
that the tongue can give no voice to what the heart feels, is of all human rhetoric
the most potent. Such, also, is the silence of a wise man challenged to speak by
those whom he feels unworthy of his words. The man who can stand and listen
to the language of stolid ignorance, venomous bigotry, and personal insult,
addressed to hixn in an offensive spirit, and offers no reply, exerts a far greater
power upon the minds of his assailants, than he could by words however forceful.
His silence reflects a moral majesty, before which the heart of his assailants will
scarcely fail to cower. Such was tiie silence which Christ now maintained in this
hall. {HomilisU)
Ters. 62-65. And ye shall see the Son of Man. — The value of Chri$t*§ oath
before Pilate : — I propose to inquire what the value of this oath is ; what value we
ought to attach to it as evidence that Jesus was the Messiah ; and I suppose that
this is to be determined on the same basis and grounds on which we determine
the value of evidence in other cases. How is that? 1. By those extraneous
circumstances which are corroborative or otherwise, of that which is testified to.
(1) Jesus was the only being who ever appeared on this earth corresponding to the
types of the ritualistic part of the Old Testament. (2) He was the only being who
ever appeared, in whom the prophecies would be fulfilled in their double aspect.
A King, a Conqueror, a Deliverer, a Great One ; and yet suffering, despised, and
rejected of men, &c. The Jews looked only at one aspect of these prophecies ;
and the hiJf-truUi misled them. (3) Our Lord's teaching was infinitely loftier than
can be accounted for on any other supposition. (4) His miracles all pointed to Him
as a Saviour ; all of them beneficent, and all of them such, in their various
characteristics, as to indicate His power over the forces of nature, over the spiritual
world, and over the dead. All these things conspire to sustain the testimony
which Jesus bore to Himself as the Christ, before the High Priest under oath. 2.
The value of an oath may be affected by the circumstances in which it is given.
(1) There was nothing, absolutely nothing, external to Himself, that could have
originated in Christ the idea that He was the Messiah, i. His home, an obscure
and distant place, ii. His want of education, iii. His poverty, iv. His want of
authority. How came He, then, with the idea that He was greater than Solomon,
that He was Lord of the Sabbath ; that He was the Light of the world ; that He
was the Deliverer that was to come — how came He by it? That a single
individual, in these circumstances, should have had that idea, seems to me to
indicate that He had a right to it. (2) Moreover, you will observe, when He took
this oath, He stood wholly alone. What courage, then, must have been needed
to maintain, in the face of death, that He was the Messiah. S. The value of ao
oath, or of testimony given in such circumstances, is determined by the com-
petenqy of the witness. Was the witness of sound mind, and had he the
530 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap. nr.
means of knowing that to which He testified ? Need I ask this question
regarding Jesus? Was He beside Himself? Was He carried away by fanati-
cism ? Was there anything to awaken snch fanaticism in that solitary man
standing thus wholly alone, forsaken by His friends, with absolutely nothing
to sustain Him in the very face of death but His own consciousness of the
great fact that He was the Messiah ? Nothing I 4. The moral character of the
witness. And here again, need I say anything in regard to the moral character of
Jesus ? No sin was ever imputed to Him ; He claimed to be without sin ; in the
Lord's Prayer He taught others to confess sin, but He never confessed sin Himself.
The Bible claims this for Him : " Who was," says Peter, " without sin " — absolutely.
And was such a person as that, with such a character as that, one who would stand
before the highest tribunal of His nation and, when adjured by the living God, perjure
Himself ? Taking these things together, it seems to me that no oath was ever
uttered under circumstances to give it greater validity and greater significance, and
that no oath can be thus uttered — never ! (Mark Hopkins^ D.D.) Rejectionof evidence
concerning Christ : — How was our Lord's testimony received ? You will notice, here,
the position which the High Priest assumed, and it is a position which very many
men assume in regard to the evidence of Christianity. He asked the question, "Art
thou the Christ ? " Was he prepared to accept evidence ? Let us see. Suppose
our Lord had said "No"? Then He would have been an impostor, and would
have been led off self -condemned. But now, when He said " I am," was there the least
tendency in the mind of the High Priest to accept the testimony f No ; but instead of
that, he condemned Him for blasphemy I It was as Christ had said in regard to
that generation : " We have piped, " &e. Whatever He might do, and whatever
He might say, there was that determined position of opposition against Him,
which precluded any evidence from having an effect. And that is the case with
many men to-day : there is this position of opposition which precludes any fair
consideration of evidence; and the oath of Christ to His Messiahship, which
stands to-day such an oath as would convince any man of anything except that,
does not weigh with them. (Ibid.) Danger of being attracted by the world's
ways: — He who becomes a friend to the world's ways becomes an enemy to
Christ's. When you begin to love them, you begin to dislike religion. When
you begin to worship money you cease to worship God. When you begin to
love the house of pleasure you begin to dislike the house of prater. When you
begin to love bad books you begin to lose your relish for the Bible. When you
seek irreligious associates you draw off steadily from intercourse with the people
of God. When the greedy lust of the world has eaten out a Christian conscience
— when it has deadened the spiritual sense— when it has dry-rotted the whole
heart — when it has banished Christ and possessed the soul's affection — then the
man is ready to desert I Nay, he has deserted 1 What is any man worth to the
Church, or to God, when his heart is the property of Satan? He may linger
within the camp and even wear the uniform of a church member. But when
the bugle calls to action he is not in the ranks ! When a march of reform is
ordered or a strife for God's law is waged, he is *' missing." (Cuyler,)
Ver. 66. And as Peter was teneath In the palace.— Tfc* Eigh Priesfi palace :^
The palace of the High Priest was in all probability built much in the Eoman style.
There was what was called the vestibuluniy an entrance adorned with pillars ; in
this was the ostium, or entrance hall, closed with doors. On one side lived the
porter. This hall gave admission to the atrium, called in a Greek house the aule^
a square or oblong apartment, open in the middle to the sky, with, in Boman
houses, a small water-tank in the middle, and beside it the image of the tutelary
god and a small altar on which incense was burnt. At the further end of this
great hall was a large and handsome room, opening to it by steps, called the
tablinum. It was the grand reception-room, and was richly adorned. In the
tablinum, which was sometimes square, sometimes semi-circular, the court was
held in the house of Caiaphas. Without, below the marble steps in the atrium,
were the servants of the house. There was no image of a god there, but there was
a brazier in the place of the altar of incense. That there was an impluvium or
tank is likely enough ; as so much importance was ascribed to washings, and water
had been conveyed throughout Jerusalem by means of subterranean canals and
aqueducts. Out of the tablinum sometimes a door opened into a small bedroom,
which was without a window. It was in this little room that the false witnesses
were kept concealed till summoned to appear. They were perfectly in the dark.
OHAP. xnr.] 8T. MARK, $31
and could not be seen, whereas Christ was visible distinctly becanse of the torcbei
held, as Jewish law required, before Him to make His face clearly distinguishable.
In the tablinum were also seats or benches, of marble, of alabaster, or costly woods.
On these benches sat the council. WhDst the trial was going on in the tablinum^
another trial was going on in the atrium, a step or two below the tablinum. The
Master was tried in the upper court, and found guilty, though innocent. The
disciple was tried in the lower court, and found guilty by his own conscience, or
rather, let me say, by that Master who was receiving sentence a few steps above
him. Both were irradiated by the red Ught of fire in the midst of the prevailing
darkness. Probably the only lights then burning were the fire of charcoal in the
brazier on the edge of the water-tank, and the torches held aloft by the Serjeants
of the guard before Jesus. Very generally, the tablinum opened into a garden be-
hind, so that those in the atrium or hall looked through it into the garden, which
was surrounded by a colonnade. When this was the case, the seats were between
the steps from the atrium and the garden door, and the little bedroom door was
opposite the seats. Now, perhaps, you can picture the scene. In the foreground
are the servants and soldiers moving about the hall, women bringing bundles of
thorn, or shovels of charcoal to the fire in the brazier. Beyond, raised like a low
stage of a theatre, is the tablinum, with the judges seated on the right. On the
left, peering out of the dark door, are the evil faces of the hired spies and witnesses.
A little forward, on a small raised platform, is Christ, with bound hands, and on
either side stands an officer holding a flaring torch. Behind, like the scene in a
theatre, is the garden, with the setting moon casting long shadows from the black
cypresses over the gravel, and high aloft in the sky twinkles one star. (S. Baring
Gould, M.A.)
Ver. 67. Peter warming himself. — Peter at the fire: — 1. Peter had one reason for
being there — to see what would be the issue of Christ's apprehension, and to while
away the time : but God had another end in view. Had Peter favoured the re-
vealed will of God, he had not been there with no business but to sit down and
warm himself. But by the secret will and providence of God, Peter must be here,
not only to accomplish the word of Christ, but for another special purpose. For
the good of the Church, he is made an eye-witness of all Christ's sufferings in the
house of the High Priest. Never did any evil befall any of God's servants, but by
God's overruling power was turned to some good to themselves and others. 2.
Peter was cold, and it was not unlawful to warm himself ; but better he had been
cold and comfortless alone in the darkness of the night, than to have sat within
warming himself in such company. Peter was now colder by the warm fire, than
he was without in the cold air ; his heart grew cold, and his faith and zeal. 1. Let
OS resolve that that is a cold and comfortless place (though the fire be never so
great) where Christ is bound, where Christ cannot be professed, where Christ is
scorned, and the disciples of Christ are set upon as Peter was here. 2. Let us
labour, how cold soever the weather be without, to keep the heart warm in grace ;
it had been better for Peter to have sat cold without and warm within, than for
outward warmth to freeze and starve inwardly. The season is generally cold —
heat of zeal counted madness, godliness disguised, <fec. ; let us labour in this general
coldness to keep our heat. 3. When thou sittest at a warm fire, beware of
temptation. Peter, when he followed Christ, suffering cold and want, was strong
and zealous ; but now he comes to the warm fire, he is quite overthrown. The
warm fire of prosperity and outward peace has overthrown many, who in their
wants and trouble stood fast in grace. If thou hast not prosperity and wealth, con-
sole thyself with the thought that thou art free from the snare which has caused
others to fall. And if thou art in affliction, be not too much cast down ; for in
this estate thou art more secure than in its opposite. Prosperity is not always a
sign of God's favour, but only when it provokes to humility and duty. Too much
rankness hurts the com, and too much fruit breaks the trees. {Dr. Thomas
Taylor), Weak tempters can foil stout men : — Peter's tempter is a woman, a silly
maid, ft very weak party. 1. To show him his frailty. Peter thought no man
could cast him down, when lo 1 a woman does. 2. To humble his pride. How
easily God overthrows the pride of man I He need not come in His own person ;
He need not bring a champion or man of war against him ; a mere woman shall be
tempter too strong for as presumptuous a professor as Peter. The Lord, who
resists all sinners, is said often to " resist the proud," t.«., after a special and
severe manner, because they seek to draw God's glory upon themselves. Pharaoh.
689 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. bt.
Jezebel. Herod. Historians write of a city in France that \va8 depopulated and
wasted, and the inhabitants driven away, by frogs. It is reported also, that »town
in Thessalonica was rooted up and overthrown by moles. And we read of Pope
Adrian being choked with a fly. Thus the Lord plays, as it were, with Hia
enemies, scorning to come Himself into the field against them, but sending the
meanest of His creatures to cast them down. Let this humble us under the mighty
hand of God; presume of nothing in ourselves, be proud of nothing, lest we know
by woeful experience that a thing of nothing is strong enough to overthrow us. If
our pride shall resist God, God's weakness shall resist us, and we shall know to
our cost that the weakness of God is stronger than man. Never was pride ol
heart unrevenged with falls, sin, and shame. (Ibid.)
Vers. 68,72. But lie AenieA.-— The foulness of Peter's sin:—l. He denies flatly and
peremptorily. 2. He gives a double denial ; implying more resolution. And both
his denials are distinct and manifest lies. 3. He denies Christ before a multitude.
(1) Bad enough to have denied Christ before one witness. How much worse before
so many ? (2) He who denies Christ before any man, shall be denied by Him before
the Father. What a great sin to deny Him before all men ! (3) In so great a
company were a number of wicked men, and now Peter exposes the name ol
Christ to all their scorn and opprobrium. He animates and hardens them, and
takes part with them in the rejection of Christ. (4) There were also some weak ones
and well-wishes to Christ. Peter's action weakens and scandalizes these, and per-
haps prevents some of them coming forward in defence of the Lord. [Dr. Thomas
Taylor.) It is hard to confess Christ in danger : — 1. Because of Satan's malice.
He will do all in his power to keep men from confessing Christ openly, and to
make them deny Him. 2. The strength of our natural corruption makes it difficult
to resist Satan's attacks. 3. Weakness of faith and graces. (1) Think it not an
easy thing to confess Christ in trial, nor a thing to be performed by our own power ;
but pray for the "Spirit of strength." (2) Pray for wisdom when and how to
confess. (3) Pray for faith. {Ibid.) The porch of sin : — Many step out of the
midst of sin, but hang about the porch. They would not be outrageous sinners,
but retain a snatch or taste ; not open adulterers, but adulterous eyes, thoughts,
and speeches ; not noted drunkards, but company-keepers and bibbers ; not blas-
phemous swearers by wounds and bloods, but by faith, troth, God, &c. All this is
to remain in the porch of sin. (Ibid.) Difficult to quit bad company : — In that
Peter sticks in the porch, and comes back among those whom he had forsaken,
learn how difficult it is for a man who has been long used to bad company and
courses, to be brought to leave it altogether. He will either look back, or else tarry
in the porch. Sin and sinners are like bird-lime. The more Peter strives to get
out, the more he finds himself limed and entangled. (Ibid.) Why God did not
prevent Peter's fall : — 1. He would give us and the whole Church an example of in-
firmity and weakness, by the fall of such a man. 2. The strongest must learn fear
and watchfulness, and whUe they stand take heed lest they fall, lest the enemy
suddenly overcome them as he did Peter. 3. To crush men's presumption, and
teach them to attribute more to the word of Christ than their own strength. Had
Peter done this, he had not so shamefully fallen. 4. To take away all excuse for
men in after ages setting np Peter as an idol. (Ibid.) To avoid sin, avoid
occasions : — He that would avoid sin must carefully avoid occasions, which are the
stronger because of our own natural inclination to evil. He that would not be
burnt must not touch fire, or go upon the coals. Beware of evil company. Con-
sider thine own weakness, and the power of evil to seduce. (Ibid.) To avoid
siUf keep close to Qod's Word : — He that would avoid occasion of sin, must hold Mm-
self to God's commandment, and within the limits of his own calling. If Peter had
done this, he had not fallen so foully. Christ having expressed His will and
pleasure, he should not have so much as deliberated upon it, much less resolved
against it. But he forgets the word and commandment of Christ, and so falls into
sin. (Ibid.) How we are to show love to a friend : — Here is a notable rule to be
observed in friendships. Examine the love thou showest to thy friend, by the love
of God. 1. Take heed thy love be subordinate to the love of God ; so that, if
thou canst not please both, thou please not thy friend at the cost of God's dis-
pleasure (Matt. X. 87). Peter should first have loved Christ as his Lord, and then
as his friend. Had he so done, he would have kept His word. 2. Love the Word
better than ihj friend. Peter should have stuck to Christ's road, instead of His
person. 8. See thy love to thy friend be not preposterous, that thy affection de*
flBAP. ST.] 8T. MARK, 633
fltroy liim not. The subtlety of Satan creeps into our friendships and fellowships,
BO that by onr improvidence, instead of helping, we hurt them more than their
enemies could do. We must pray for wisdom and judgment, that neither willingly
nor unawares we either council or lead them into any sin, or uphold any sin in them,
or hinder in them any good. (Ibid.) The corrupting influence of had company : —
See how soon even God's children are corrupted with wicked company. Even Peter, a
great and forward disciple of Christ, full of zeal and courage, who will pray, profess,
and immediately before draw the sword in Christ's quarrel, now can deny Him among
persecutors. Great is the force of wicked company to pervert even a godly mind.
1. There is a proueness in godly men to be withdrawn by evil company. As the
body is infected by pestilential air, so the mind by the contagion of bad company.
2. There is a bewitching force in evil company to draw even a good mind beyond
his own purpose and resolution. (Ibid.) Reasons for avoiding evil company : —
1. There cannot be true fellowship with God and His enemies too. 2. Every man's
company tells what he is. Eavens flock together by companies ; and so do doves.
A good man will not willingly stand in the way of sinners. 3. The practice
of wicked men should make good men shun their company; for wherein
are their sports and delights, but in things which displease God and grieve His
Spirit, and the spirits of all who love God and His glory? What can a good
man see in such company, but must either infect him, or at least offend him
in almost everything ? [Ibid.) Godly company the best : — It seems very sweet
to sit warm among wicked men, to eat and drink and be jovial with them ; but
there is a bitter sauce for such meats. On the contrary, in company of godly
men thou art under the shadow of God's mercy for their sakes. God loves
His children and their friends. For Lot's sake His family was saved. (Ibid.)
The fall of Peter ;— A great study in human nature is here presented. I. The
ORIGIN OF Peter's fall. Do not overlook — 1. The quarrel in Peter's heart with
Christ's methods. Christ's plan was to conquer by suffering ; Peter's to conquer by
resisting. This inward divergence produced the outward separation. Beware of
quarrelhng with God's dealings, or methods, or demands ; the most common of all
sources of backsliding. 2. Peter's pride helped his fall. II. The process of
Peter's fall. 1. Following Christ "afar off" (Luke xxii. 54)— half-heartedly,
not close, not to testify to the Sanhedrin for Him, but simply to •' see the end '"
(Matt. xxvi. 68). Close to Christ in the path of duty you are kept wann ; sluggish.
and distant, the heart chills and grows feeble. 2. He entered into temptation.
3. A subtle snare is laid for him. If the three challenges had taken place in a
reversed order, probably Peter would not have fallen by them. Had the men
come first, his manhood might have risen to meet the challenge. But a housemaid
does not put him on his mettle. Thrown off his guard, he tells his first lie, and it
has afterwards to be backed up by more falsehoods and deadlier denials, putting a
gulf between himself and Christ which, but for Christ's grace, would have been
eternal. III. The commonness of similar transgression. Not a question of who
is guilty, but who is guiltless of this fault. All hiding of the face from Christ, all
secrecy of fear, which leads people to assume we have nothing to do with Christ, all
leaving Him unowned and undefended, is a sin identical in nature with Peter's.
Each should ask, " Lord, is it I ? " {R. Glover.) St. Peter's fall .-—Let us take
warning from this — 1. Not to rely on our own strength for steadfastness in the
moment of trial, but to trust only in Divine grace. 2. Not to suppose our own
power of resistance to temptation is greater than that of others. Rather, when we
see another sin, let us in him see our own selves, and pray God for him as we
would for ourselves. When we see another steadfast in the faith, let us pray that
he may preserve that gift which he has unto the end. 8. To heed every warning
that is mercifully given us. When the cock crew for the first time, it seems
wonderful that St. Peter was not reminded of Christ's prediction, nor restrained
from subsequent denials. But sin deafens the heart to every voice, and blinds the
eye to all signs. {W. Denton, M. A.) Fall and restoration :^Theve Ate MSS.,
you know, called palimpsests, i.e., written upon twice. The original inscriptio:i
upon them, which was fair, and full of Divine wisdom, has been defaced, and in
its place may now be seen letters and words and sentences in contrast to what wiis
described before. So with the characters of men — even good men. Over their
better nature you may see scratched in ugly scrawls very obvious imperfections an- 5
frailties. But, thank God, often do we witness, after the process of defacement, a
process of restoration. Divine grace, through discipline of various descriptions,
rubs out the evil and brings back the good, and causes the soul at last to reveal
634 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOH. [chap. xn.
again most distinctly what had only been dimmed and not destroyed; even as thert
has been discovered a method by which Buch ancient writings can be made to
exhibit once more what seemed — but only seemed — for ever spoiled. {Dr. Stotighton.)
Danger of one false step : — We see in Peter's fall the danger of a first false step. As
he entered the house he denied his discipleship to the portress ; he did wtong that
good might come. He loved his Master ; he sought to be with or near Him. ; he
desired to see the end. What was the harm of merely a white lie to gain this great
advantage ? But the white lie led to black denial, and to a false oath. When he
had assured Jesus that, though all might deny Him, yet would not he, Peter had
supposed the case of his being brought up for trial before the Sanhedrin. And it
is possible that he would have stood firm under such a trial, but this temptation
came on him from an unexpected quarter, and when he was unprepared to meet it;
that is why he fell. He would have confessed his discipleship before the High
Priest, but he denied it to the young woman who kept the gate. From this we
learn tbat we must be always prepared to meet temptation, and that the most
treacherous and dangerous of temptations come upon us suddenly, without giving
us time to prepare, and in a way unexpected. Peter's heart was sound from first
to last ; he never wavered in his love. His spirit was willing, but the flesh was
very weak. This makes the difference between venial and wilful sin. Wilful sin is
committed by deliberate consent of the will to what is evil. The fall of Peter was
not wilful. Venial sin is the fault of infirmity, the fall through weakness against
the purpose of the heart. Such was the fall of Peter. We see in his repentance
the harmfulness of venial sin. We are apt to make light of sin if it be not wilfuL
This sin of Peter's was not wilful, yet his heart was broken and contrite for it.
{S. Baring Gould, M.A.) Discrepancies in the narrative* of the Evangelist* may
he harmonized : — It is well known that there are varieties of detail in the four
records of St. Peter's threefold denial. The discrepancies have been spoken of ai
irreconcilable, and attempts to shake the credibility and trustworthiness of Holy
Scripture have been based upon this supposition. Careful examination will show
that " the incidents given by the different Evangelists are completely in harmony
with the belief tbat there were three denials, i.e., three acts of denial, of which the
several writers have taken such features as seemed to be most significant for their
purpose." The multiplicity of charges may well be illustrated out of our own
experience. We have witnessed, no doubt, a scene in which a crowd of people in a
state of excitement are setting upon an individual whom they believe to have done
something of which they disapprove. No sooner has one begun to accuse him of
it than another comes up and adds to the charge, another insists upon it with
gestures of violence, another can prove it if they will only let him speak, and then
perhaps several cry out at once. The bewildered man tries to exculpate himself
from ^e Babel of charges. He says anything and everything in the excitement of
the moment, and at last, when matters become desperate, loses all control over his
words. This is almost exactly what happened in the last " act of denial " in the
courtyard of the High Priest's palace. St. Peter was driven to bay by a multitude
of excited assailants, and perhaps hardly knowing, certainly not realizing, what he
said, he appealed to heaven, and called down Divine vengeance upon his head if
his denial were untrue, (if. M. Luckocky D.D.) Peter denies his Lord: — I.
The circumstances under which this great guilty act was performed abx ExcEEDiKaLT
DBAMATic. The story shifts its phases like pictures in a play. I. The scene is laid
in the quadrangle of the High Priest's house in Jerusalem, whither the miscel-
laneous mob of people had hurried Jesus after His apprehension in the garden of
Getbsemane. It will be necessary for those who desire to understand this
narrative to form for themselves a conception of Peter's precise whereabouts during
such a grand crisis of his history. Eastern dwellings of the better sort appear to
have been buOt around a four-sided court — an interior space like a private yard
enclosed — frequently paved with flat flagging-stone, and open to the sky overhead.
Into this area a passage from the street led by an arched opening through one side
of the house. Heavy folding.doors guarded the entrance, leaving a smaller wicket-
gate near by for the convenience of visitors who came familiarly or one at a time.
Usually this was kept by a porter. Such, in all likelihood, was the general fashion
of Caiaphas' palace. Simon Peter was inside of the wicket standing there in the
court-yard. 2. The company into the midst of which before this Jolm, the beloved
disciple, had found his way, and which he does not appear to have paused even to
notice as he hurried through, was made up of servants and soldiers. Belated and
bewildered by their unwonted excitements on the night ^ our Saviour's trial, the;
(SAP. zxT.] 8T. MARK, 63ft
had kindled • •• fire of coals " out in the area. The honr of this arraignment waa
unusual, the air was chilly, and the confusion was full of discomfort. The entire
group appears irritable and maliciously disposed. The girls are coarse, the military
men hoisterous and brutal, the Levites insolently triumphant, as they see their
victim now in what they deem the right hands, and the waiters abusive and impu-
dent. Everything shows picturesquely there among the flitting dresses and
uniforms. The flame makes all the quadrangle dance with uncouth shadows, and
the faces of the men and maidens are ruddy under the red glow of the coals. Ill-
tempered and testy with the raw air of the midnight, they jostle each other and
join roughly in gibea about the discomfiture and capture of this Nazarene prophet
at last 3. Enter Simon Peter now, the chief actor in this awful tragedy of
the denial. Into the midst of the throng comes a burly figure, a quick- stepping
individual, evidently trying t6 do that peculiar thing which almost everybody, one
time or another in his Ufe, has tried to do, and nobody at any time has ever suc-
ceeded in accomplishing, namely, to look unconscious and unconcerned when
absorbently anxious, and to seem unnoticed and unembarrassed when he knows the
rest are all staring at him. That new-comer is our well-known friend Simon, the
son of Jonas ; and he is now endeavouring to act at perfect ease, although he is
certain that he is and ought to be an object of suspicion from the beginning. " He
sat with the servants (Mark xiv. 54), and warmed himself at the fire." Picture
him now, away from all his friends, among the sullen enemies of his Lord. There
is some evidence that this disciple imagined he might pass himself off for one of
the crowd who went out to apprehend Jesus, if only he mingled unabashed with
the chilly company around the coals. So he pressed nearer, and this was exactly
what hastened his exposure. 4. Now commences the dialogue of the drama. A
girl kept the outer door ; this rsminds ns of the o£Bce of the damsel named Rhoda
(Acts xii. 13), whom we meet in another part of Peter's history farther on. II. We
must arrest our study of the melancholy story here, for it is high time that we
should seek for the practicaii lessons taught in this transgression of Peter.
1. We see, for one thing, how commonplace is even the most notable of human
sins. This denial of his Lord will always be quoted as the characteristic wicked-
ness of Simon Peter. It stands out in history as one of the vast crimes of the
world and the race. To deny Christ is so simple a thing that we can fall into it,
and hardly know it at the time. This sin is not singular nor unusual. Christ's
cause is on trial now as really as was Christ Himself in the High Priest's palace.
We stand in jeopardy every hour. Satan's ingenious policy is to come suddenly
upon us with the surprise of a question with ridicule in it. So small a matter as
omitting family prayer because a stranger is in onr dwelling, as putting on a ribald
air when one twits us with being serious, may have in it all the meaning and the
meanness of Peter's sin. " Wherefore let him that thinketh he standeth take heed
lest he fall." 2. Again : we see the immeasurable peril of just one act of wrong,
doing. Indeed, one act never seems to remain alone. This first denial led to two
more of the same sort ; then to lying, then to profanity. It is as supreme a folly
to talk of a little sin as it would be to talk of a small decalogue that forbids it, or
a diminutive God that hates it, or a shallow hell that wiU punish it. Sin is
registered according to heavenly measurements of holiness and majesty. 3. We
see, hkewise, a ready explanation of the mysterious falls into sin sometimes
noticed in the lives of really good men. No one doubts that Simon Peter was a
regenerate Christian man : how happens it that he crashes down into wickedness
so suddenly? The answer to this question must be found in the disclosures of this
disciple's previous history. He had for a long time been preparing for this disaster.
One of the brightest of onr modem writers has given us a simile somewhat like
this. If a careless reader lets fall a drop of ink in among the leaves of a book he
is just closing, it will strike through the paper both ways. When he opens the
volume again, he can begin with the earliest faint appearance of the stain, and
measure by its increase his progress towards the great black point of defacement.
Open it now anywhere, and he will detect some traces of the coming spot. He can
turn back to it ; he can turn forward from it. So of this great base act of the
Apostle Peter, which we call emphatically the denial. It is a stain in the middle of
his life. Most of ns have a profound admiration and a tender love for this old
Bethsaida fisherman, even if we do deny he was ever set up for the first pope.
But hitherto, as we have been studying his biography, we might often have seemed
to see the denial coming. Along the way hints of it appear. One who reads the
Gospels for the first time would be likely to remark, " Here is a man who will be ia
536 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap. xrr.
awful shame and trouble some day, for he thinks he stands safely ; he is going td
tall." This might be true of most self-confident Christians who lapse into sin ;
the wickedness has been growing upon them longer than they thought. " Men
fall," so once said Goizot, " on the side towards which they lean." {G. S. Robin-
son, D.D.) Petefs denial of Jesus : — ^We speak of a sudden death ; when the
doctor had long been warning the man who has just died that he might die at any
laoment. We speak of a sudden bankruptcy; which, however, the commercial
prophets had long secretly foretold. We speak of the sudden fall of a tree in a
tempest ; when, under a fair bark and a leafy shade, it had long been only a thing
of powder. We speak of the sudden fall of a soul ; when in that soul the causation
of that fall had long been working out of sight. I. Thine of this deed in oonnec-
TioN WITH A CERTAIN WEAKNESS IN WHICH IT BEOAN. That sin began, not in a sin,
but in a weakness. The strength of a rope is to be measured, not according to
what it is in its strongest, but in its weakest point. The strength of a ship is to be
estimated, not according to her strongest, but her weakest part; let but the strain
come on that, let that be broken, no matter how strong in any other part she may
be, the mighty ship, being conquered there, will go down. So it is with the
strength of a soul. Peter had many strong points, but one weak one ; and that
one, undetected by himself, was at the beginning of this disaster. It was the weak-
]iess of excessive constitutional impulsiveness. Impulse is beautiful and good ; but
impulse is only like steam in the works of a factory, or wind in the sails of a
yacht. Impulse is a good servant of the soul, but a bad master. Impulse may
act with as much emotional force in a wrong direction as in a right. Even when
its direction is right, if left to itself, it is not safe. But for this weakness, a soul
might often be saved just in time from the special kind of danger to which other
weaknesses specially lead. There is a man who feels it a pain to contradict, and a
pleasure to acquiesce ; and when in the company of errorists, this weakness is his
danger. There is a man whose weakness is an agonizing consciousness of ridicule.
There is a man. a favourite with us all, whose simplicity we love, at whose heroics
we smile, but whose weakness is that he is apt to think too highly of himself. Did
any man with all these foibles but take the steadfast poise of principles, did he but
take time, he might be saved from the action of them all. II. Think of this act
OF Peter in connection with his entrance into the temptation to commit such an
ACT. " Enter not into temptation," said the Master ; and within a few minutes
from the time of that order the servant entered into it. He loved Christ far too deeply
to deny Him ; he had never denied Him yet, and was not likely to do so now.
Ah 1 he had never yet been tried. You, perhaps, are a man of splendid morality,
but you hardly know how much your integrity depends upon circumstances; you have
never yet had it tried. There may be no accident before a train starts from the station ;
but let there be an undetected flaw only in one axle, and, when the locomotive is
spinning along the line at the rate of forty miles an hour, there may be a great
crash of property and life. Peter thought himself an iron man ; but there was a
flaw in his iron, though he knew it not until he had entered into a trial for which he
was not fitted ; then the iron broke 1 III. Think of Peter's deniaii of Christ in
CONNECTION WITH THE ACCOUNT OF ITS THREE OCCASIONS. God pity that yOUth who
has just uttered his first lie 1 If eventually saved from the evil it has already set
working, God alone can save him. No liar can alter the law of the lie, and that
law is, that the first lie has a generative power, that one lie compels another, that
one lie requires another to back it, that one lie spreads and ramifies into endless
evolutions. IV. Think of Peter's denial in connection with the treat-
ment THAT Christ wab receiving at the time. A seer tells us that he once
saw heaven, and had a glimpse of the treatment Jesus receives there. This is his
report : " I saw also the Lord, sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up, and His
train filled the temple." Now turn to this place on earth, and see how the Holy
One is treated there. Do you not now see how the pictured memory of this episode
came into the phrase of John the Divine, " the kingdom and patience of Jesus
Christ " ? V. Think of Peter's denial of Christ in connection with Crrist'b act
OF restoring love. Simultaneously, the startled man turned to look at his
Master, and his Master turned to look at him. We are awed before the calm
sovereignty of that look, no less than by its lovingkindness. " He spoke with His
eye," says Erasmus. We may not imagine what the look was Uke, but we know
what effect it had upon the disciple. The outgoing power of the Lord that went
with it struck his heart, as once the prophet's rod struck the rock, and made the
waters flow. It touched, and set flowing, frozen memories. With only self to
8T. MARK, 637
Sean apon, lower and lower would have been the inevitable fall ; but just in time
the Lord lifted him by a look I Some structures can only be saved by being ruined.
They have in them such slack work and such bad materials, that it is of no use to
patdi them, or to shore them up ; the only thing to be done is to pull them down
altogether and build them again. Some lives can only be saved by a desperate
operation. Some souls can be saved only through being fur an instant hung, as
by a hair, over the pit of the lost. A certain man was seen for many years ricii.
prosperous, influential in the State ; that very man was afterwards seen, down on
his hands and knees, in the livery of degradation, scrubbing the floor of a con-
vict prison. In his days of worldly honour he bad made profession of the
Christian faith, and not without sincerity ; but egotism was suffered to master him.
He fell. In the shock of that fall, in the recoil that comes of despair, he was
" saved as by fire." {Charles Stanford, D.D.) Peter's denial: — I. Peter nevek
MjEAWC TO DENY HIS LoBD. He believed now, as clearly as he did that day at
€fflsarea Philippi, " Thou art the Christ," &c. He was honest in saying, " Though
I should die with Thee, yet will I not deny Thee." He proved that soon after by
drawing his sword in defence of Christ. Any believer may have a like assurance.
There is the peril. If there should come to a Sabbath congregation a voice from
heaven, declaring that some one there would one day turn out a thief, how
impossible it would seem I Every one would think there must be a mistake; the
message has come to the wrong church, or, at least, it does not mean me. Of
course not. Satan says to us all, " Think of your faith, your virtue, your blood,
your position." And when he has beguiled us into such self-complacency, he
begins his manosavres, not asking ns at first to do anything dishonest, but com-
mencing on the border-line between his kingdom and the Lord's, knowing if we
yield to him in things that are doubtful, we will soon yield to him in things that
are sure. A leading member of a city church, caught in a shameful crime, wrote
his friends: **I am astonished at the bUndness and wickedness of my course."
II. Fetbb went voluntabilt into thb way of temptation. Peter thought very
Likely that he was safe in such company, because nobody would know him. A
Christian had better not stay at the fire with the ungodly. Satan did not come to
him as a *' roaring lion," but in a mere whisper. Who could draw a sword at a
young girl ? If he had contemplated her question, he might have had ready an
answer that would have been truthful vrithout giving offence. Often the science of
^truth-telling is to look out for emergencies ; to have ready an answer that shall be
polite and true. But that is essentially the science of all virtue. It is the trials
which take us by surprise that measure our strength ; it is at these crises that
destiny is made. And such unlooked-for assaults are sure to come to a Christian
who goes voluntarily into the way of temptation. One who does not watch has no
fight to pray. A man, exhorted to abandon a habit of drinking that was fast
dragging him to ruin, replied : " I magnify more than you do the grace of God.
Without drinking any one could save himself. I believe in grace that can save a
man when he does drink." He held that delusion till he died a sot. That is a
Divine law with reference to all sin. If you throw yourself from the top of the
temple, God has power to keep your bones from breaking ; but yon had better not
do so, for it is written : " Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God." The precept,
" Let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall," means, if you are
walking in slippery places, watch every little danger, every least step. One may
slip as badly on a foot of ice as on an acre. Peter would not have fallen if he had
remembered Christ's caution spoken to him : *' Watch and pray that ye enter
not into temptation." UI. Peteb bepented. There is no other way back to
Ohrist for one who has fallen. IV. Peter wowhd mebcy. {T. J. Holmes.)
The denier: — Let us endeavour to understand this melancholy event, Peter's denial
of his Lord. In order to this, let ns advert to the circumstances which attended
it, and the causes which led to it ; and then consider seriously the improvement
which we should make of it. I. The circumstances under which an offence is
committed often greatly affect its character ; they sometimes even change its com-
plexion altogether. The first circumstance of aggravation is found in the
repeated warnings which he received. Forewarned is forearmed ; when, therefore,
Peter had been warned by our Lord of his danger, we might have expected on his
part the utmost vigilance and prayeriulness. The second circumstance of aggrava-
tion is found in the solemn protestations and vows which he made. After each
warning he solemnly avowed his willingness to go with his Lord to prison and to
death. Homihty, self-abasement, orayers, tears, had been far more suitable in hid
ess THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. xrr.
case than those solemn protestations. And ever does it become ns to say, ** Hold
Thou me up, and I shall be safe." The third circumstance of aggravation is found
in the recency of the warnings and vows to which we have adverted. If the
warnings had been given, and the vows made, some years before, they might have
been forgotten ; but they were all given and made the same night in which the
offence was committed. A very few hours only could have elapsed between the last
warning especially, and the first denial. A fourth circumstance of aggravation is
found in the repetition of the offence. It was not once that he denied his Lord,
but a second, and again a third time. And this leads to another circumstance of
aggravation, that is to say, the profaneness and the perjury with which his denial
was attended. We have just seen that the second time he did not simply deny his
Lord, but he did it with an oath. He appealed to high heaven as his witness and
his judge — when he swore falsely. The last circumstance of aggravation which we
shall notice is, that all this was done in the very presence of the Redeemer. It
was not done in a corner : it was not a secret offence, which might for ever remain
unknown ; but it was done publicly, before many witnesses. John was there. It
was in the presence of this faithful friend that Peter denied his Lord — ^with oaths
and curses. Above all, Jesus was there. II. Such are the circumstances of
aggravation which marked the offence of Peter ; we shall now advert with great
brevity to the causes of this strange conduct. How can we account for it ? 1. One
cause is found in the known character of Peter. He was a man of ardour,
impetuosity, zeal; but, like many others of a similar temperament, he was
destitute of moral courage. There is no necessary connection between physical
and moral courage, some of the finest specimens of the former having proved
themselves utterly destitute of the latter. How many there are who suffer from
the same moral infirmity 1 Let our young friends especially guard against it, and
labour to correct it. In order to this I would earnestly recommend two things.
(1) An intimate acquaintance with some of the noble characters presented to us
in history, as well as with some of the writings of choice spirits which have the
most direct tendency to strengthen the mind. Let them steep their minds in
the noble sentiments which are there so appropriately expressed. (2) An
habitual realization of the Divine presence. Let them feel that God's eye is ever
upon them ; and let it be their study to approve themselves to Him. 2. We have
another cause in the state of mind which he had recently indulged. I refer
particularly to his overweening confidence and pride. The solemn warnings of his
Lord ought to have humbled him ; but his confidence was in himself, not in
his God. '• God will humble the proud, but will give grace to the lowly." 3.
A third cause is found in the danger, real or imaginary, in which he was placed.
It would not appear that there was any danger involved in the fact of his
discipleship. John was a disciple ; known as such to the High Priest, and yet he
was in the palace, and appears to have apprehended no danger. But Peter had
been active, in one sense mischievously active, in the garden. He had cut off the
ear of the servant of the High Priest, and this might be construed into a crime ; an
attempt to rescue or prevent the capture of a criminal. Hence Peter's fears ; his
wish to be unknown ; his denial. How closely rashness and cowardice are allied I
HI. Let us now see what instruction we may derive from this mournful spectacle.
We regard it as an affecting illustration of the frailty of our nature; as •
melancholy proof of what man can do under the influence of temptation, con-
sidered simply as a morally imperfect being. It thus presents one phasis at least
of human character in an instructive light. Let us illustrate this. We may
divide the human family into three classes. First, there are, in the worst sense at
the term, wicked beings — beings whose moral nature is entirely perverted, whose
good is evil ; malevolent beings who can do evil for evil's sake, and have real
delight in mischief. There are others who have by no means attained to this com-
pleteness in evil, who are, nevertheless, the slaves of some one dominant passion.
And from his affecting case we see what evil a man may commit, how low he may
sink in moral degradation from mere frailty, from inherent defectiveness of
character, when sore pressed by a temptation adapted to his weakness. It may be
proper to remark here, that one act, whether good or bad, does not constitute a
character. We should guard against the severity, the injustice of representing
men as guilty of hypocrisy, of insincerity, because they have once, or even twice,
under the influence of temptation, acted in opposition to their professions. The
fall of Peter is further instructive to us, as it affords a striking illustration of man's
ignorance of himself. How little man knows— can know of what is in him 1 The
CHAP. xiT.] 8T» MARK. 639
fall of Peter calls upon us to review our past history, and to look carefully into our
own hearts. We may learn from the case of Peter the nature of true repentance.
"Peter went out and wept bitterly." If we compare the case of Peter with that oi
Judas, we shall learn the nature of true repentance, we shall perceive the
characteristic difference between that which is true and that which is false, that
which is saving and that which is destructive. Wherein does the difference
consist? 1. Judas saw clearly the enormity of his conduct, but it was only in
and through its consequences ; he had no perception of the evil of his conduct in
itself. 2. The second point of difference between the repentance of Judas and
of Peter is in the subject. (J. J. Davies.) Peter's secmd denial of Christ :—
He who once cracks his conscience will not much strain at it the second time.
1. Sin is very bold when once it is bid welcome. If it once enter, it knows the
way again, and once admitted will plead, not possession, but prescription. An
army is easier kept out than beaten out. 2. The sinner is less able to resist the
second time than he was the first. Grace is weakened and decayed by yielding to
the first temptation, and the strength of Grod, which only makes the way of grace
easy, is plucked away by grieving His Holy Spirit. 8. The way of sin once set
open, is as the gates of a city thrown open for an enemy, by which Satan bringing
in his forces, strongly plants them, and quickly so fortifies them, that it will
require great strength to remove them. 4. Every sin admitted, not only weakens,
but corrupts the faculties of the soul by which it is upheld. It darkens the under-
standing, corrupts the will, disturbs the affections, and raises a cloud of passions
to dazzle reason. {Dr. Thomas Taylor.) Peter's degeneration : — A dicer, they
say, will grow to oe a beggar in a night ; and in a night Peter will grow from a
dissembler to be a swearer and forswearer. (Ibid.) Why Christians are allowed
to fall : — Why (it may be asked) does the Lord leave His saints and children to
themselves, by withdrawing His grace from them, and so suffer them to fall into
sin ? 1. To correct their carelessness and carnal security. 2. To stir them up to
more watchfulness over themselves for time to come, when tbey know their own
weakness. 3. To pull down their pride, and humble them more thoroughly before
God (2 Cor. xii. 7). 4. To drive out of them aU confidence in themselves, and
presumption of their own strength. 6. To make them more compassionate toward
others (Luke xxii. 82). 6. That by this means He may make them examples, and
grounds of comfort to other poor sinners. {George Petter.) The heinousness of
Peter's third denial : — Peter was now in great danger. He hears of the garden,
and is likely to be revenged for his tumult, his quarrel, and wronging Malchus.
He is pressed by evident signs that he was with Christ, and now if he bestir him
not, he shall not avoid present danger; or if he do, he shall be branded for a
common liar and perjured person for ever; and therefore out of great fear he more
stoutly denies his Master than before, and because neither his simple denial will
serve him as in the first instance, nor his binding it with oaths and swearing as in
the second, as if he had not done enough, he curses and imprecates himself,
wishing not only mischief to himself, but calling on God, a just Judge, to avenge
that falsehood, and infiict the deserved punishment if he knew Him of Whom they
spake. Oh, fearful sin 1 1. To deny his Lord and dear Master. 2. After so many
warnings on Christ's part. 3. After so many confessions and professions of his
own. 4. After so often, three several times, so much time of deliberation coming
between. One might seem infirmity, but thrice argues resolution. 5. With lying
and perjury. 6. With cursing and imprecation. Thus Peter is among the
forwardest of those who make falsehood their refuge, and who trust in lies.
{Dr. Thomas Taylor.) Lying a slough of despond : — Benvenuto CeUini records
in his autobiography the bitter experiences he endured in being tempted to lie to
the Duke, his patron, lest he should forfeit the favours of the Duchess — he, who
"was always a lover of truth and an enemy to falsehood, being then under a
necessity of telling lies." "As I had begun to tell lies, I plunged deeper and deeper
into the mire," till a very slough of despond it became to him. {Francis Jaeox.)
Ver. 72. And Petar called to mind the vror^— Peter's repentance .-—That the
cock crew again was an ordinary and natural thing, but at this time ordained for a
special end. 1. To put Peter in mind of his promise. 2. To bear witness to the
words of Christ, which Peter will not, till now, believe to be true. 3. To reprove
Peter of His sin. 4. To accuse Peter to his own conscience. He needs the voice of
a cock to help him out of his sin 1 He is admonished by this voice, that the silly
cock kept his watch, according to the word of his Creator ; but Peter has not kept
54t THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. xit.
his watch with his Lord, but fearfully fallen in his station. I. The timb of Pktkb'b
BBPBNTANCB. " Then." The fittest time for repentance is immediately after the |
sin, without delay. 1. Consider the exhortation in Heb. iii. 7. Hast thou a lease :|
jf thy life till to-morrow, that thou refusest to repent to-day f 2. Sin gets strength ,j
by continuance. 8. Nature teaches in other things to take the fittest season ; to j
sow in seed-time, to make hay while the sun shines, to take wind and tide which
wait for no man. Let grace teach thee to know thy season, thy day of visitation.
4 Late repentance is seldom true repentance. IL Thk means of Peter's bb-
PBNTANCB. 1. External. (1) The crowing of the cock. (2) The looking back of
Christ. 2. IntemaL (1) Remembermg the Lord's words. (2) Weighmg the Lord's
words. (Dr. Thomas Taylor.) Peter goes out .—Peter went out— 1. In respect
of the place. The hall and the porch were no places of safety or tranquility, but
full of danger and fear and tumult, and no fit place for meditation. 2. In respect
of the company. He sees that the longer he stays among wicked men, the more
sins he heaps up against the Lord, and against his own conscience, and therefore
he sees it high time to be gone. 3. In respect of the business in hand. He is to
bewail his sin, to weep bitterly, to get out of himself ; and to do this, he must be
alone with God. (Ibid,) Reasons for avoiding evil company .-—I. He that will
cleave to God, must sever from God's enemies. The same grace that binds us to
God, looses us from the wicked. Solitariness is better than bad company. 2.
What comfort can a sheep have among a herd of swine, which wallow and tumble
in foul lusts? or a silly dove among a company of ravens? How can a good heart
but grieve in their society whose sports and pleasures are in such things as only
grieve the Spirit of God? How can a Christian solace himself among such as care
for none but brutish delights, in eating, drinking, sporting, gaming, attended with
swearing, railing, drunkenness, and idleness? 3. What safety among evil men,
whether we respect themselves or their practices? For themselves, they are so
poisonful, so infectious, that we can hardly participate with them in good things
and not be defiled. For their practices, how just is it if we join ourselves in their
sins, that we should not be disjoined in their judgments 1 4. This has been the
practice of the godly (Psa. xxvi. 4). {Ibid.) How to act in bad company ;— If we
fall among, or be cast into bad company — 1. Let us not fashion ourselves to them.
2. Consider who thou art— a disciple, separated by grace— a son of God. 8. Look
upon ungodly examples to detest them, to grieve at the dishonour of God, to grieve
at the wickedness of man made in God's image. 4. See them, to stop them if pos-
sible. If there be hope of doing good, admonish them. Warn them of the wrath
of God, coming on those who do such things. Win them, and pray for them and
their amendment. 6. If their be no hope of winning them, yet by thy godly car-
riage convince them, check them, confute, shut their mouths. Let thy light shine
in spite of their darkness, to glorify thy Father ; and at least let them see thy watch
and godly care to preserve thyself from their contagion. (Ibid.) Times for calling
sins to mind : — We ought to take all occasions offered to think of our sins, and to
be stirred up to humiliation and repentance for them. Especially, for example— 1.
When in the public ministry of the Word we hear such sins reproved M we are
guilty oL 2. When we come to Holy Communion. 8. When we read the Scrip-
tures, or hear them read. 4. When we are privately admonished of our sins, either
by the ministers of God, or by any other that have a calling to do it. 6. When God
Uys upon us any grievous affliction or chastisement; such as sickness, loss of goods,
loss of near friends by death, <feo. When we either see or hear of the judgments of
God inflicted upon others for sin. (George Fetter.) Fountains of repentant tears ;—
Repentance is wrought by the Spirit of God. But He works it in us by leading us
to think upon the evil of sin. Peter could not help weeping when he remembered
his grievous fault. Let us at this time— I. Sxudy Peter's oau, and dsb it fob
OUB OWN INSTRUCTION. 1. He Considered that he had denied his Lord. Have we
never done the like ? It may be done in various ways. 2. He reflected upon the
excellence of the Lord whom he had denied. 3. He remembered the position in
which his Lord had placed him — making him an apostle, and one of the first of
them. Have we not been placed in positions of trust ? 4. He bethought him of
the special intercourse which he had enjoyed. Have not we known joyous fellow-
ship with our Lord ? 6. He recollected that he had been solemnly forewarned by
his Lord. Have not we sinned against light and knowledge ? 6. He recalled hia
own vows, pledges, and boasts. Have we not broken very earnest declarations ? 7.
He thought upon the special circumstances of his Lord when he had so wickedly
denied Him. Are there no aggravations in our case ? 8. He revolved in hia mind
nv.] ST, MARK, Ui
his repetitions of the offence, and those repetitions with added aggravations : lie,
oath, &o. We ought to dwell on each item of oar transgressions, that we may be
brought to a more thorough repentance of them. II. Study oub own lives, ani*
U8B THB STUDY FOB OUB FUBTHEB HUMILIATION. 1. Think upon OUT transgressions
while unrepentant. 2. Think upon our resistance of light, and conscience, and
the Holy Spirit, before we were overcome by Divine grace. 3. Think upon our
small progress in the Divine life. 4. Think upon our backslidings and heart-
wanderings. 6. Think upon our neglect of the souls of others. 6. Think upon oar
little communion with our Lord. 7. Think upon the little glory we are bringing to
Bis great name. 8. Think upon our matchless obligations to His infinite love.
Each of Uiese meditations is calculated to make as weep. III. Study the eitect
or THESE THOUGHTS UPON OUB OWN MINDS. 1. Can we think of these things with-
out emotion ? This is possible ; for many exoase their sin on the ground of their
circumstances, constitution, company, trade, fate: they even lay the blamo on
Satan, or some other tempter. Certain hard hearts treat the matter with supreme
indifference. This is perilous. It is to be feared that such a man is not Peter, bat
Judas ; not a fallen saint, but a son of perdition. 3. Are we moved by thoughts
of these things? There are other reflections which may move us far more. Our
Lord forgives us, and numbers us with His bretLren. He asks us if we love Him,
and He bids us feed His sheep. Surely, when we dwell on these themes, it must be
true of each of us — " When he thought thereon, he wept." (C H, Spurgeon.)
Becolleetion : — Peter's recollection of what he had formerly heard was another oc-
casion of his repentance. We do not sufficiently consider how much more we need
recollection than information. We know a thousand things, but it is necessary
that they should be kept aJive in our hearts by constant and vivid recollection. It
is, therefore, extremely absurd and childish for people to say, " You tell me nothing
but what I know." I answer, You forget many things, and, therefore, it is neces-
sary that line should be upon line, and precept upon precept. Peter himself after-
wards said in his Epistle, " I will not be neghgent to put you always in remembrance
of these things, though ye know them." We are prone to forget what we do know ;
whereas we should consider that, whatever good thing we know is only so far good
to as as it is remembered to purpose. {R. Cecil.) Peter's life-long repentance : —
Peter falls dreadfully, but by repentance rises sweetly; a look of love from Christ
melts him into tears. He knew that repentance was the key to the kingdom of
grace. At once his faith was so great that he leaped, as it were, into a sea of waters
to come to Christ ; so now his repentance was so great that he leaped, as it were,
into a sea of tears, for that he had gone from Christ. Some say that, after his sad
fall, he was ever and anon weeping, and that his face was even farrowed with con-
tinoal tears. He had no sooner taken its poison but he vomited it up again, ere it
got to the vitals ; he had no sooner handled this serpent but he tamed it into a rod,
to scourge his soul with remorse for sinning against such dear light, and strong love,
and sweet discoveries of the heart of Christ to him. Clement notes that Peter so
repented that, all his life after, every night when he heard the oock crow, he would
fall npon his knees, and, weeping bitterly, would beg pardon for his sin. Ah !
souls, yoo can easily sin as the saints, but can yon repent with the saints ? Many
can sin with David and Petor, who cannot repent with David and Peter, and so
must perish for ever. {Thomas Brooks.) Washing with tears : — ^Nothing will make
the laces of God's children more fair than for them to wash themselves every morn-
ing in their tears. {S, Clark.) Tears of repentance : — A saint's tears are better than
a sinner's triumphs. Bernard saith, •* The tears of penitents are the wine of
angels." {Archbishop Seeker.) The faU of St. P«t«r;—" And Peter called to
mind the word that Jesus said unto him. Before the cock crow twice, thou shalt
deny Me thrice. And when he thought thereon, he wept." I. The vibst ebbob
OF the apostle was confidenos in the stbenoth ov his own vibtuk, roLLOWED by its
NATURAL BssuLT — THE WANT ow WATCHFULNESS. This wss the Commencement of his
aberration, and the origin of all his subsequent sorrow. Our only strength is in
humble and earnest rehance upon the grace of Christ. It is rare that an humble and
watchful soul is overcome by temptation. Temptations are seldom nearer than when
we suppose them most distant. If we commit our way unto the Lord, He will direct
our steps. II. The fibbt sinful act of Peteb abose fbom vainoloby. He wished to
make a display of his courage. One extreme is always liable to be succeeded by
its opposite. Rashness is natmally followed by cowardice. He who smote oS the
servant's ear was seen, in a few minutes, hiding himself in the darkness among th«
trees of the garden. IIL The VAOiLiiATioN of Peteb pboduoeo its natural bssulx^
41
«4S THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [ohap. zxt.
iMsniTXoneKT akd unbxoioed bbpentakos. He ooold not forsake his Master entirely.
He dared not openly confess his fault, and meet the conseqaenoes of doing right.
He followed Christ afar off. Thus diffioolt is it to do right, after we have once
commenced the doing of wrong. A coarse only half-way right is as perilous a one
as can be chosen. Nothing could have restored to Peter the moral courage of
innocence, but going at once to Christ, confessing his sin, and avowing his attach-
ment, no matter what the avowal might have cost him. We may be surprised into
sin. Our only safety consists in forsaking it immediately. If we hesitate, our
conscience will become defiled, and our resolution weakened. It is also of the
utmost importance that our reformation be bold, manly, and entire. IV. Petbb
HEABO JeSDS TALSELY ACCUSED, AND HE UTTEBED NOT A WOBD IM Hl8 DEFENCE. He
was the friend and the witness of Christ. It was his duty to act, and to act promptly.
By quietly looking on, when he ought to have acted, Peter prepared himself for
all the guilt and misery that ensued. Hence let us learn the danger of being found
in any company in which the cause of Christ is liable to be treated with indignity.
If we enter such company from choice we are accessory to the breaking of Christ's
commandments. If our lawful duties call us into society, where the name of Christ
is not revered, we can never remain in it innocently for a moment, unless we
promptly act as disciples of Christ. V. Peteb attempted to escape tboh the
EMBARRASSMENTS OF HIS SITUATION BY EQUIVOOATION. " I kuOW UOt," Said he, " nor
understand what thou sayest." This only in the end rendered his embarrassment
the more inextricable. Let this part of the history teach us the importance of
cultivating, on all occasions, the habit of bold and transparent veracity. Equivo-
cation is always a sort of moral absurdity. It is an attempt to make a lie answer
the purpose of the truth. He who does this when his attachment to Christ is
called in question has already fallen. He denies his Lord in the sight of his
all-seeing Judge, though his cowardice will not permit him to do it openly. The
man who has gone thus far will soon be brought into circumstances which will
openly reveal his guilt. VI. Peteb was rapidly led on to the oommissioh of
CRIMKS IN themselves MOST ABHORRENT TO HIS NATURE, AND OBIMBB OF WHICH, AT
THE COMMENCEMENT OF HIS WBONG-DOINO, NEITHEB HE NOB ANY ONE ELSE WOULD HAVB
BEUEVED HIM CAPABLE. He began by nothing more guilty than self-confidence and
the want of watchfulness. He ended with shameless and repeated lying — the
pubhc denial of his Master, accompanied by the exhibition of frantic rage, and the
uttering of oaths and blasphemy in the hearing of all Jerusalem. Thus, step after
step, he plunged headlong into more and more atrocious guilt, until, without the
power of resistance, he surrendered himself up to do the whole wiU of the adversary
of souls. (Francis Way land.) True contrition:— When King Henry H., in the
ages gone by, was provoked to take up arms against his ungrateful and rebellious
son, ho besieged him in one of the French towns, and the son being near to death,
desired to see his father, and confess his wrong-doing; but the stem old sire
refused to look the rebel in the face. The young man, being sorely troubled in his
conscience, said to those about him, " I am dying ; take me from my bed, and let
me lie in sackcloth and ashes, in token of my sorrow for my ingratitude to my
father." Thus he died; and when the tidings came to the old man, outside the
walls, that his boy had died in ashes, repentant for his rebellion, he threw himself
upon the earth, like another David, and said, " Would God I had died for him."
The thought of his boy's broken heart touched the heart of the father. {Spurgeon.)
Peter's recovery : — I. Let no Chbistian bely on his disposition or feeunq fob
SAFETY FROM FALLING. Yirtucs lean towards their vices : liberty to license ; liberality
to waste. And when we see only oar virtaes, others see only our vices. II. Let no
Christian rely upon his past conduct as a safeguard. Peter had been nearest of
all the disciples to Christ for three years. He had deep and pure affection. IIL
Let no Christian presume to trust in conboiencb to seep him right in the houb
OF DANOEB. There are many moral forces which hinder conscience. The danger
of Peter had been distinctly pointed out. IV. Fbom this example learn to realize
THE bitter memory OF GOOD woBDS WHICH COME TOO LATE. The great regrets of life
consist in the memory of graces which might have made us good, bat which we
have neglected. And oh how awful is this bitterness 1 {F. Skerry.) True peni-
tence: — The naturally warm and impetuous temperament is liable to extremes
under the pressure of circumstances. This tendency to vacillation can only be
corrected by a severe trial. There is one sentence in the history which shows that
Peter began the downward course when he followed afar off. Had he been close to
tho Masttt's side all through the trial his courage would have stood the strain.
XT.] 8T. MARK. 643
The florist who forgot to olose the skylights of his eonservatory, saw his rare plants
withered by the frost of the night. So the warm heart of the Christian can only
live in the warmth of Divine love. I. Eveby sin is ik thb facb of wabnikg.
Where there is no law there is no sin, and where there is no warning the transgres-
sion is more ezonsable. II. Eyeby sin in thb faos of wabnino awaksns a
PAINFUL BEFLECTiON. It is not enough that sin is denounced by jnstioe, and
that warning is added to the denunciation; we must be brought into a state
of observation and reflection in which to have a deep insight into the nature
and consequences of sin. The very painful part of this state is the reap-
pearance of the discarded warning. The mercy of God came to the apostle
through a veiy humble channel ; and how often we are awakened to reflection by
onimportant incidents 1 God has blessed the tick of the clock, and the falling of a
leaf, to rouse in man's breast a sense of responsibility. A thousand voices in nature
eall us to reflection, but sometimes a simple incident in daily life has done so more
effectually. The hard-hearted father who had listened to remonstrance and warning
for many a year, was at last touched. He had heard most of the temperance orators
of the day, but he continued the drink. One Sunday afternoon he took his little
girl to the Sunday-school, intending himself to go after more drink. At the door
of the school-house he put the child down from his arms, but observed that tears
started into her eyes. " Why do you cry ? " he asked. The little one sobbed out
her answer, *• Because you go to public-house, and frighten us when you come
home." It was enough. He never entered a public-house again. God can bless
simple means to reach great ends. The narrative states, ** The Lord turned and
looked upon Peter." Nothing can hide us from the Saviour's view. It was a living
and a life-giving look. It brought back moral sensibility. The living heart of
Jesus travelled through that look to the cold heart of Peter. He was moved by it
to reflection. The look spurned the offence but recalled the offender. It was a
magnet, with both a negative and a positive pole. It repelled sin, but attracted the
sinner. There is mercy in God's rebuke, and an invitation in His warning. The
road back to rectitude, to truth, to honesty, to moral courage, and to discipleship
was a thorny one. III. Eveby sin which awakens a painful beflection leads
ro TBUB penitence. " And when he thought thereon, he wept." 1. His repentance
was genuine. St. Matthew says, "He went out and wept bitterly." His spirit was
broken and his heart contrite. 2. His penitence was effective. He was led to see
the error, and to feel the power of forgiveness. Here is an illustration of the power
of thought — dive to the depths of sin and rise to the lights of peace. {The Weekly
Pulpit.) "Blotting out**: — The old Greeks thought that memory must be a
source of torture in the next world, so they interposed between the two worlds
the waters of Lethe, the river of forgetfulness ; but believers in Christ want no
river of oblivion on the borders of Elysium. Calvary is on this side, and that is
•nongh. {Dr, Alexander Maclaren.)
CHAPTEB XV.
▼n. 1. And bound Jwnm.-'The Lamb of Ood ;— It Is Interesting to observe the
remarkable resemblance which is found to exist in several particuUirs between the
ceremonial of the daily sacrifice of the lamb on the altar in the Temple and the sac-
riflce of the true, spotless Lamb of God. After the lamb had been kept under watch
for four days, and had been examined by an inquisition of the priests on the evening
before, to make sure that it was without spot or blemish, it was brought forth early
in the morning as soon as it was light. At the cockcrow the altar had been swept
clear of ashes to prepare it for the victim. Then *' the president said to the other
priests, * Go out and see if it be time to slay the lamb.' If it was, the observer
said, * There are bright streaks of light in the east.' The president asked, * Do they
stretch as far as to Hebron ? ' If he answered that it was so, then he said, * Go ye
and bring the lamb from the prison of the lamb.' " Now, in like manner, on the
fourth day after Jesus had come to Jerusalem to be offered up as " the Lamb of God
that takeUi away the sin of the world," when the morning was come after the night-
inquisition into the spotlessness of the Lamb of God, He is brought forth from His
pison to be re-examined and ordered to be slain. The lamb of the daily sacrifice,
Mfore being laid on the altar, was bound. " Those priests," we read, ** whose lot it
•44 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [cha». Xf
is to attend to the pieces (with the view of laying them apon the ftltftr) took hold ol
the lamb and bound it." So in the Antitype, ** they bonnd Jesns, and carried Him
away." Christ is bound when He is in the hands, the power, of men. So is it
always with the world. It desires to have net a free, but a bound Jesua. As the
servants covered His face, so does the world desire to have a not all-seeing God.
The world strives to emancipate itself from the bonds of obedience to the will of
Qod. Let us break, they say, the bonds which the Lord God and His Christ lay od
us ; and even the very cords of love whereby they would draw us, let us cast away.
There is a cry for freedom. Freedom is the most perfect blessing man can have.
Freedom from what ? Freedom to do what 7 Among the many, the desire is to
be freed from responsibilities caused by duty, and to do their own will unrestrained
by any obligations. That is, indeed, the great cry of the day. All duties are
irksome, all obligations intolerable. No man can develop his individuality except
in absolute freedom. But at the same time that the world seeks freedom from the
bonds of Christ, it tries to impose bonds on Christ. Providence is to be bonnd witb
laws. Science imposes rules on the Most High, and lays down principles by which
God must act — if there be a God— or science will do without Him. Prayer is
declared to be worthless, because man cannot alter the course of Nature. God is
fettered by self-imposed laws. He is not a free agent. Not only so, but God's
Church must not be free. It also must be hampered and restricted in every way —
prevented from doing all it may for the cause of Christ. {S, Baring Gouldt M^.)
Yer. 3. Bat He answered nothlngr. — The silence of our Lord : — From our Lord's
sublime silence we may learn — 1. That the manifestation of anger and temper is
inconsistent with a Christian spirit. Again, anger is said to rest " in the bosom oi
fools," a mortifying fact, which should be a corrective to this tendency. Socrates,
when kicked by a profligate person, said to those who would have him re-
taliate, " Had an ass kicked me, would you have me kick back in return T " It
requires no intellect to be angry. It is rather a sign of mulishness. Tou give an
advantage to your adversary. Men get the fruit of the cocoa-nut tree by exas-
perating the monkeys that live among the branches, so that the animals hurl down
the fruit. The assailants keep up the altercation nntil their end is gained and
their baskets are full. But to be patient is to be godlike. Here, iiien, are two
mirrors. In which is your face reflected f Are you easily irritated, or are you able
to patiently stand, like your Lord, answering not a word r 2. No one grace more
glorifies God than the spirit shown in the silence of Christ. The following incident
is related of that eminent minister, Dr. Hopkins: A brother-in-law who was a
sceptic, said that his pious kinsman would bear exasperating circumstances no
better than any one else, and, to try him, stated to him some facts peculiarly
aggravating. Dr. H, went away very angry, and the remark was made, •• I told
you 80." The night, however, was spent in prayer, and with the morning Dr. H.
came and confessed his sin of unholy passion, whereupon his brother was deeply
affected, and admitted that this was a spirit which he did not possess. The infidel
was led to re-examine the grounds on which he stood. He became a humble fol-
lower of Christ and a minister of the gospel. But the objector says, I cannot
control myself: what is the remedy? In general, we may answer, Watch and
pray. God will do His part, we must do ours. More specifically : Keep yourself
from temptations. Again, your physical condition is to be cared for. Late hours,
bad ventilation, and improper diet afleot the temper. If yon eat mince pie, fruit
cake, and lobster salad at night, you will have dyspepsia. If you have dyspepsia,
you will be cross. Think, again, how belittling to you are these spurts of ill-temper,
and let it shame you. Think, too, how trivial are these annoyances, and how tran-
sitory life is. Look at Christ, whose whole nature was sweet to the depths of His
being, and so was not obliged continually to curb the risings of unholy emotion.
Commit your cause nnto Him who jadgeth righteously, and answer not a word.
{Ameriean Homiletie Review,)
Ter. 6. B» rtleased onto them one prisoner whomsoeyar they doilred.— Barabbu
or Christ ;— It afifords the most vivid illustration in the New Testament of just two
great moral lessons : Pilate's behaviour shows the wicked wrong of indecision, and
the chief priests' choice of Barabbas's release shows the utter ruin of a wrong
decision. These will become apparent, each in its turn, as we study the story.
I. Eablikbt or all, lbt us oboup toobthbb thb incidknts or thb histobt, so thai
YHXiB OBDJBit MAT BB SBBN. 1. Obscrvo the rapid action of the priests (Mark xy. 1),
ST.] BT, MARK, 642
It mast liATe been yery late on Thursday night when the great conncfl finished the
condemnation of Jesus. But the moment that was over, the priests hurried Him at
dawn into the presence of the Eoman governor. Their feet ran to evil, and they
made haste to shed innocent blood (Isa. lix. 7). 2. Now comes the providential
moment for Pilate. For the wisdom of God so orders it that this man shall be able
to meet his tremendous responsibility unembarrassed by a mob for his audience.
These zealots, like all creatures who have the form of godliness but deny the power
thereof, are so emphatically pious that even in the midst of murder they pause on
a punctilio ; they will not enter the judgment hall lest they should be so defiled
that they could not eat the passover (John xviii. 28). This left Pilate the chance
calmly to converse with Jesus alone. 3. Then succeeds the pitiable period of sub-
terfuge which always follows a shirked duty. Convinced of our Lord's innocence,
Pilate proposed that his official authority should just be counted out in this matter.
He bade the chief priests take their prisoner themselves, and deal with Him as they
pleased. To this he received a reply which showed their savage animosity, and at
the same instant disclosed the use they meant to make of his power. They cried
out that the only reason why they had consulted him at all was found in the unlaw-
fulness of killing a man without due form of procedure (John xviii. 30, 31). 4. Next
to this is recorded the attempt of the governor to shift his responsibility. Pilate
learned from the mere chance use of a word that Jesus was from Galilee ; and as
this province was in the jurisdiction of Herod, the titular monarch of the Jews, he
sent his prisoner onder a guard over to the other palace (Luke xxiii. 7). The king
was quite glad to see this Nazarene prophet, and tried to get Him to work a miracle,
but did not succeed in evoking so much as a word from His lips (Isa. liii. 7). But
before the return, he put a slight on Jesus' kingly claims, so that Pilate might know
how much in derision he held them. The soldiers mocked Him, arraying Him in a
gorgeous robe, and then led Him back into the presence of the governor again.
6. At his wits' end, Pilate at last proposes a compromise. He remembered that
there was a custom, lately brought over from Italy into Palestine, of freeing some one
of the State's prisoners every year at Passover as a matter of proconsular clemency
(Mark xv. 6). He offered to let Jesus go under this rule. Such a procedure would
be equivalent to pronouncing him technically a criminal, but thus His life would be
spared. But the subtle priests put the people up to refuse this favour flatly.
6. The governor's wife now meets him with a warning from « dream. He had
returned to the judgment seat, and was just about to pronounce the decision. His
wife interrupted: " Have thou nothing to do with that just man " (Matt, xxvii, 19).
This threw Pilate into a frantic irresolution once more. A second time he left the
room, and went forth to reason and expostulate with the infuriated crowd at the
door. With renewed urgency he pressed upon their consideration the half-threat
that he would let loose on them this wretch Barabbas, if they persisted in
demanding Jesus* death (Luke xxiii. 18). This only exasperated them the more.
7. Finally, this bewildered judge gave his reluctant consent to their clamours. But
in the act of condemnation he did the foolishest thing of all he did that awful day.
He took water and washed his hands before the mob, declaring thus that he was
iimocent of the blood of the just person he was delivering up to their spite
(Matt, xxvii. 24). II. So we beach the crisis or events in the sfibitual careeb
or that buleb and or that nation. 1. Observe the singular picture. It is all in
one verse of the Scripture (Mark xv. 15). Two men, now in the same moment,
appear in pnblic on the steps of the PrsBtorium : Jesus and Barabbas. One of them
was the Son of God, the Saviour of men. ♦• Then came Jesus forth, wearing the
crown of thorns, and the purple robe. And Pilate saith unto them, Behold the
man ! " (John xix. 5). Art has tried to reproduce this scene. Dor6 has painted
the whole of it ; Guido Beni has painted the head with thorns around the forehead.
Others have made similar attempts according to their fancy or their ability. It is
a spectacle which attracts and discourages. Beyond them all, however, lies th«
fact which each Christian will be likely to fashion before his own imagination.
Jesus comes forth with His reed and His robe : Eeee Homo I Barabbas alongside 1
This creature has never been a favourite with artists. He was a paltry wretch any
way, thrust ap into a fictitious importance by the sapreme occasion. We suppose
bim to hay* been quite a commonplace impostor. Bar means son ; Ahha^ which
■ome interpret as father. Very likely he chose his own name as % false Messiah,
** Son of the Father ; " indeed, some of the ancient manoseripts call him " Jesui
Barabbas.*' He does not poise picturesquely ; look at him 1 2. The inoral of this
scene turns upon the wilful choice made between these two leaders, the real and the
64 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [cha». xt
pretended Christ. Now let it be said here that the whole history is often repeated
even in these modem times. It is onwise to lose the lesson taught as by rushing
off into pious execration of those bigoted Jews. Men had better look into their
own hearts. In his introduotion to the study of metaphysics, Malebranohe remarks
very quietly, " It is not into a strange ooimtry that such guides as these volumes
of mine will conduct you ; but it is into your own, in which, not unlikely, yon are
a stranger." It will be well to bear in mind that the decision is offered and made
between Jesus and Barftbbas whenever the Lord of glory is represented in a prin-
ciple, in an institution, in a truth, in a person. 8. So let as pause right here to
inquire what this decision involves for those who make it. The illustration is
helpful, and we can still employ it. Dwell a moment upon the deliberateness of
the choice which the multitude made that day. The exhibition was perfectly
intelligible : it always is. There is Barabbas I there is Christ 1 When a sharp
moral crisis is reached, men generally know the side they ought to choose. Bight
and wrong, truth and error, sin and holiness, the world or God — this is just the old
Jerusalem scene back again. Such a choice fixes character. ** As a man thinketh
in his heart, so is he." When one wills strongly, he moulds himself in the likeness
of the thing he chooses. The old Gastilian proverb says, ** Every man is the son
of his own work." Then observe the responsibility of the choice between Barabbas
and Christ. The chief priests declared they would take it (Matt, xxvii. 25). Pilate
could ruin no soul but his own. In the end Jesus' blood rested upon the nation
that slew Him. Oh, what a history I a land without a nation — a nation without a
land 1 All the vast future swung on the hinge of that choice. Note, therefore, the
reach of this decision. It exhausted all the chances. Once — on that Friday
morning early — those two men stood side by side, and Pilate asked the question,
" Whether of the twain P " (Matt, xxvii. 21). It was never possible after that to
traverse the same spiritual ground of alternative again. Whoever chooses the
wrong must go and fare for good or ill with the thing he has chosen. The thief
becomes master, the murderer lord. III. Wb abb bbady now to rkceivb thb fdlij
TEACHINa OF THB 8T0BT : OUB TWO LESSONS APPEAB PLAINLY. 1. We SCO the wickod
wrong of indecision. We are agreed that Pilate wished to let Jesus go. But when
he gave Him up to the spite of His murderers, he himself " consented " and so
shared the crime (Psa. 1. 18). Thus he destroyed his character. Trinuning,
injustice, cruelty : step by step he went down, till he added a scourging which
nobody demanded. *• The facility with which we commit certain sins," says
Augustine, " is a punishment for sins already committed." Thus he also destroyed
his reputation. One man there has been whose name was put in an epistle just
for a black background on which to write a name that was white (1 Tim. vi. 13).
The same was put in the Apostles' Creed that all Christendom might hold it in
" everlasting fame " of infamy : " crucified under Pontius Pilate." 2. We see also
the utter ruin of a wrong decision. Do not waste any more thought on Pilate or
the Jews. Think of yourself. See life and death, blessing and cursing ; choose
life (Deut. xxx. 15, 19). Do not forfeit what may be your soul's last chance. (C.
S. Robinson, D.D.) Not Barabbas but Jesus: — TremelUus was a Jew, from whose
heart the veil had been taken away, and who had been led by the Holy Spirit to
acknowledge Jesus as the Messiah and the Son of God. The Jews who had con-
demned our Saviour had said, "Not this man, but Barabbas;" Tremellius,
when near his end, glorying in Christ alone, and renouncing whatever came in
competition with Him, used very different words, "Not Barabbas, bat Jesus."
{BaxendaWs Dictionary of Anecdote.) Barabbas jpreferred to Christ : —
I. This implies a histoby. n. It bbcobds a ohoiob. The choice involves two
things— first, what was repudiated ; next, what was approved. Here was the
repudiation of One who was absolutely faultless. Here was the repudiation by the
world of One who had wrought for the world the greatest wonders of material kind-
ness. Here was the repudiation of One who loved them, knowing their lack of love
to Himself. Here was the repudiation of One who had at His command power to
destroy as well as to save. From what was repudiated, turn to what was approved.
" Not this man, but Barabbas." HI. It suggests a paballel. If you prefer any
passion or habit, any thing or man, any person or personification, to Christ, that is
your Barabbas. If you prefer any treasure to Him who is " value," that is your
Barabbas. If you prefer any company to His company, any love to His love, that
object of preference is your Barabbas. If you prefer any given sin to the grace that
w ould conquer it, that sin is your Barabbas. If, though you ought to know that
this sin is destructive, that the blood of souls is on it, that it is a robber, and that
XT.] ST, MARK, 647
it stiU lurks in darkneis to rob you of your nobility, of your peace, of your spiritna]
•ensitiveness, of your liberty to have fellowship with the Infinite One, and still
refuse to give the vile thing up to be crucified, bat will rather give up Christ, that
vile thing is your Barabbas. If, refusing Christ, you trust something else to be the
** Jesus " of your souls, that false righteousness, false foundation, false comfort,
false hope, is your " Jesus Barabbas." Of all the faculties with which God has
enriched man, there is not one so mysterious in its nature *nd awful in its working
as the choosing faculty. {Charles Stanford, DJ),)
Yer. 10. Had delivered Him for en^y. — Envy and malevolence : — Mutius, a citizen
of Bome, was noted to be of such an envious and malevolent disposition, that
Publius, one day, observing him to be very sad, said, " Either some great evil is
happened to Mutius, or some great good to another." Envy and malevolence : —
Dionysius the tyrant, out of envy, punished Philoxenius the musician because he
eould sing, and Plato the philosopher because he could dispute, better than himself.
Envy in a Christian : — ** Who is this elder son ? " was once asked in an assembly
of ministers at Elberfeldt. Daniel Erummacher made answer : ** I know him very
well ; I met him yesterday." ** Who is he? " they asked eagerly; and he replied
solemnly, " MyseU." He then explained that on the previous day, hearing that a
very iU-conditioned person had received a very gracious visitation of God's good-
ness, he had felt not a little envy and irritation. Envy punishes itself: — A
Burmese potter, says the legend, became envious of the prosperity of a washerman,
and, in order to ruin him, induced the king to order him to wash one of his black
elephants white, that he might be lord of the white elephant. The washerman
replied that, by the rules of his art, he must have a vessel large enough to wash"
him in. The king ordered the potter to make him such a vessel. When made,
it was crushed by the first step of the elephant in it. Many trials failed, and the
potter was ruined by the very scheme he had devised to crush his enemy. TJie per-
ucutort — the causes of their hostility : — We now proceed to the consideration of the
** causes '* of this strange conduct ; in other words, we shall inquire, Why the chief
priests and rulers of the Jews acted thus towards our Lord? We remark, in
general, that the cause was this — that the whole of our Lord's conduct and ministry
was in direct opposition to their views, prejudices, and interests. 1. It is obvious
to remark, that there was much in what may be called their national feelings and
prejudices, against which our Lord greatly and constantly offended. The chief
priests and rulers would, of course, share with the people generally, in the expecta-
tion of a temporal prince in the person of Messiah, and of national distinctions and
honours under his reign. But there was nothing in our Lord's conduct or ministry
to favour these views. 2. But this is not all. There was much in their ofi&cial
position and interests which rendered our Lord an object of Constant suspicion, and
of bitter hatred. The whole of their power and influence depended on the con-
tinuance of the ecclesiastical system which then existed. Their power and influence
in their own nation were very great ; and few who have once possessed power are
willing to relinquish it. But our Lord's conduct and ministry appeared not only
unfavourable to their expectations of national aggrandizement, but they seemed
to threaten even the existence of the system of ecclesiastical poUty which then
obtained amongst them. 3. But the grounds of hostility to our Lord were carried
further stiU. He had rendered himself personally offensive to the chief priests and
rulers of the Jews. ''Beautiful," said men, *' these prayers and fastings, these
alms and phylacteries, this scrupulous attention to the smallest points of the law I "
•' Beautiful," replied our Lord, •' as whited sepulchres, which are fuU of corruption
and dead men's bones ; the very abodes of putridity, loathsomeness, and death."
It was a very common thing with Him, not only in His private intercourse with
His disciples, but also in His public ministry, to caution men against the designs
and the practices of the Scribes and Pharisees, of whom these chief priests and
rulers, for the most part, consisted. ♦' Beware of them," He often cried. ♦• Do not
as the Pharisees do ; " " they give alms, and say long prayers, to be seen of men."
It may not be improper to confirm the view we have taken of their conduct by a
more direct reference to the evangelical history. I remark, then, that the truth of
it appears in the origin of their opposition. It is evident that their hostility ori-
ginated in the success of our Lord's ministry ; and it increased with the increasa
of His influence. To point out every illustration of this which the sacred narratives
afford, would be to go through a great part of our Lord's history. But we may
notice the extraordinaiy event which specially stimulated their malignity, and led
$48 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap. iv.
to their determination to destroy Him ; that is to say, the resnrreotion of Lasama.
It was not many months before His crucifixion that this, in some respects Hif
greatest miracle, was performed. " Then from that day forth they took counsel
togetiier for to pat Him to death." They tried to put the people down, but in vain;
they appealed to onr Lord, ** Master, rebuke Thy disciples ; but Jesus said. If these
Bliould hold their peace, the stones would immediately cry out." Then *' they said
among themselves. Perceive ye how that ye prevail nothing ; behold the world is
gone after Him.'* Thus we find that their hostility increased just as His influence
increased. Bat, in addition to His influence with the people, our Lord, as we have
already seen, rendered Himself personally offensive to the chief priests and rulers
by His xmsparing exposure of their hypocrisy. Before we leave this part of our
subject, let us pause for a moment to inquire whether the same spirit has ever been
displayed since the persecutors of Jesus went to give in their account ? 1. There
are very few men who will not decidedly oppose every effort to overturn a system,
on the continuance of which their worldly interests depend. Very few who are fed,
enriched, ennobled by any social arrangement, will ever care to inquire whether it
be in itself good, whether it be generally beneficial, or whether it be not for the
public weal that it give place to another ? For them and theirs it is good ; and
they ate all the world to themselves. They can see nothing but disaster in its
overthrow, and nothing but wickedness in those who wish to effect it. And this
suggests a passing remark, that the best institution may become antiquated. All
the unprejudiced perceive that it is fast becoming a nuisance, and that the sooner
it is allowed to be decently interred, the better for all interests. But the fact that
it was once a benefit, helps to blind the eyes of those who are still interested in ite
continuance to another fact — that it has ceased to be so. 2. It is also worthy of
remark, that generally speaking, their hostility is bitter in proportion to their
apprehensions of the unsoundness of the system with which they are connected.
3. No men are more frequently placed in this position, or have more frequently dis>
played this spirit, than ecclesiastics. Their power is of a peculiar kind, and always
rests, more or less, on public opinion. 4. It is still worse when they have become
completely corrupt, and their corruption and hypocrisy are exposed to the world.
Hence the persecutions which faithful men have endured in every age, and almost
LQvariably through the instigation of ecclesiastics. Hence the suferings of the
Lollards, the Puritans, the Nonconformists, in our own country ; of the Waldenses,
the Albigenses, the Huguenots, on the continent of Europe. Hence, we say, and
hence alone. Why was Wycliffe so hateful to the ecclesiastical rulers of his day?
Simply because of the light which, from time to time, he threw on the system of
corruption with which they were identified, and by which they were enriched and
ennobled ; because, by the calm and earnest exhibition of the truth, he was under-
mining their influence, and exposing them to contempt. Were Gardiner and
Bonner, men of some note in their day, better than Annas and Caiaphasf
Wherein, beloved reader, and how much, were they better f They acted on pre-
cisely the same principles, and in precisely the same spirit ; and if they were not
better than the persecutors of Jesus, were they worse than some of their successors,
the EUzabethan bishops? Were they worse than Parker and Whitgift; than
Aylmer, and many others? {J, J. Davies.)
Ver. 12. The King of the JewB.--PtIate** question ;— I. Thh title—" King of the
Jews." U. The embabbabsmbnt that pbomptbd the utterance or this question.
UI. BEOABn THIS AS A PBESBNT QUESTION. What shall you do with reference to Him
who is " King of the Jews *' ? Will you reject Him ? Will you be neutral ? Will
you be like the Jews — for Him to-day, against Him to-morrow? Will yoar con«
science be content if yea simply call Him by His name ? {Charle$ Star^fard, D.D,)
Ver. 13. Cradfy Bim.— The worWt treatment of Chrut :— John Wesley, at •
considerable party, had been maintaining with great earnestness the doctrine of
Voz popuU, vox Deif against his sister, a lady whose talents were not onworthy tht
family to which she belonged. At last the preacher, to pat an end to the con-
troversy, pat his argument in the i^ape of a dictum, and said, "I teU you, sister,
the voice of the people U the voice of God." ** Yes," she replied, mildly, ** it cried,
•Crucii^ Him, crucify Him.*" A more admirable answer was, perhaps, never
given. The world's treatment of Christ : — Dr. Blair, at the conclusion of a
sermon in which he had descanted with his usual eloquence on the loveliness of
virtue, gave utterance to the following apostrophe: "0 virtue, if thou warl
. XT.J ST. MARK, G49
«xnbodied, how would all men love and imitate thee." His oolleagne, the Bev. B.
Walker, preached that afternoon, and took occasion to say, ** My reverend friend
observed in the morning that, if virtue were embodied, sJl men would love and
imitate her. Well, virtue has been embodied ; but how was she treated 7 Did all
men love her 7 Did they copy her ? No I She was despised and rejected of men,
who, after defaming, insulting, and scourging her, led her to Calvary, where they
erucified her between two thieves." Fickleneas of the populace : — When Napoleon
was returning from his successful wars in Austria and Italy, amid the huzzas of
the people, Bourrienne remarked to him that *' it must be delightful to be greeted
with such demonstrations of enthusiaBtio admiration." ** Bah 1 " replied Napoleon,
" this same unthinking crowd, under a slight change of circumstances, would fol-
low me just as eagerly to the scaffold." {Dictionary of Anecdote.) An indict-
ment against man: — L Here we have thb basis ov a. TREsiENDona indictment
against human nature. 1. Human nature does not know good. It if had, it would
not have crucified the Lord of glory. 2. Human nature hated goodness in its
most attractive form. 3. Humanity is guilty of the utmost possible folly, because
in crucifyiDg Jesus it crucified its best friend. 4. Human nature destroyed its best
instructor. 6. Human nature submitted to the insolent tyranny of the priests.
6. Human nature was guilty of craven cowardice in striking One who would not
defend Himself. U. Let me shut the door against some self-righteous disclaimebs.
1. " I should not have done so." Of whom wast thou born, but of a woman, aa
they were ? 2. " I would have spoken for Him." Yes ; and dost thou speak for
Him now? What have you done already? Have you sneered at the gospel?
Have you rejected it? Are you ignorant of it? Have you ever doubted His power
and His willingness to save ? For behevers — oh what a sorrow to think we stabbed
our Friend to the heart. If we have crucified Him — let us resolve to oxown Him.
{C. H, Spurgeon,)
Ver. 15. And fo FUate, wUUng to content the people.— Ptlate and Jeius :—l.
What sobt o» man was PiiiATS? Probably not worse than many Boman
governors; not very unlike Festus, Felix, Gallio, and the rest. 1. Gruel. 2.
Determined. 8. Worldly. II. What wab hb to do with Jxsub? This was his
difficulty ; this was the rook on which he was stranded. The voice of the nation
demanded Christ's death. Insurrection, possibly even war, impended, if the
demand was refused. What was to be done? III. Pilatb tbies to evade the
BE8P0N8IBILITT OF DBCIDINO. lY. WhT DID NOT PiLATE DABE TO BEFUSE THE JeWS'
DEMAND ? 1. He had an evil conscience. 3. By defending Jesus, he would run the
risk of earthly loss. 8. He had no fixed belief to support him. Y. Obsebvx the
■TFEOT OF LimrO HABITTALLT FOB THE PBE8ENT WOBLD. A man of the WOrld, who
lives only for the things of time and sense, content if he can satisfy QaBsar and the
people, has antliority given him to deal with the cause of Christ. He cannot
make up his mind to take up the cross and follow Him ; for he has lived for self
alone, and walked only by sight. What will such a man do in time of sudden trial
but follow Pontius Pilate. If I must, I must. I see it is wrong. I would give
much to escape, but there is no other way open. I must be content to satisfy th6
people. Jesus of Nazareth, EUs Church, His kingdom, His interest. His people, I
surrender them to your will. (C H, Waller, MJL.) Pilate* $ toeakneu and the
chief priests* gjuilt : — I. Pbincxplb will, but poliot will hot, pbesebve you fbom
ax. If you will not make the sacrifice which goodness requires, give up all hope
of keeping your goodness. Courage is absolutely necessary for goodness. II. A
man's sins weigh him hsatilt. If PUate had had a guiltless oonscience, he would
have defied the clamour of the rulers. He walks along the downward path to hell
with his eyes open. UI. Bewabb of compbomisb. Come to no terms with evU,
but resist it. lY. If w> can pbkvent wbono being done, we cannot bt vebbal
FBOTESTi bsgapb THE BE8PONSIBILITT FOB IT. Pilatc's handwashing has many
imitators, men substituting a feeble protest for vigorous and dutiful action. But
in vain does Pilate think to wash his hands of guilt. Y. The hollowness of
■ABTHLT PBIDB AND POMP GOMES OUT HEBE. Yl. ThEBE IS AN EXHIBITION HEBE OF
THB SINFUL SIDE OF HUMAN NATUBX. Sclf-will scems ft bright, brave thing, very
excusable. Behold its guiltiness here. Weakness seems a harmless, good-tempered
thing ; it may easily commit the greatest crime. VII. The hardships of tbans-
OBESSOBS WATS IS ILLUSTBATED HEBE. Pilate woi d havo fouud it ten times easier
to do right. Think of his shame, self-contempt ; of the horror he would feel when
Christ rose from the dead ; of the pensdties which followed. It was not more than
650 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOIL [okaf. «r.
seven or eight years before Gaiaphas and Pilate were both degraded from theii
posts ; and shortly after, Pilate, weary with misfortunes, killed himself. Nor,
when we hear the men of Jerusalem ask the Roman governor for a cross, can wt
help remembering that they got their fill of crosses from the Komans ; when, Titoi
crucifying sometimes 500 a day of those seeking to escape from the doomed city,
at length, in the circuit of Jerusalem, room was wanting for the crosses, and
crosses wanting for the bodies. YIU. Oub wsaknbss incbeases thb Savioub'i
TBOUBLES. IX. Chbist nbveb GOES WITHOUT ▲ WITNESS. Pilate, Horod, Pilate*!
wife, and even the hypocrisy of the crowd, all proclaim, ** There is no fault in
Him.'* X. The Savioub's suffebinos claim oub oBATirunE, but they also call oa
us TO take up oub cross and oo afteb Him. Let us copy the Divine meekness,
majesty, and love which met in the cross of Christ. {R. Glover.) Pilate : — Th«
miserable governor is an example to us of a man of infirm principle who seeks to
tide over a difficulty by temporising. He proposed to inflict ignominious sufferings
on Christ, grievous in themselves, but yet short of death; hoping in this way
to appease the multitude, and by moving their fickle humour by the sight of blooi
to induce them to remit the punishment they had just cried out to have executed on
Christ. Pilate had no strength of character, no moral rectitude and fortitude. He
could not do a right thing unless he were backed up by the people. He must have
the popular voice with hun to do justice or to commit an injustice. A terrible
instance is Pilate to as of what comes of seeking a principle of action, direction,
outside of our own selves, of beiujg swayed by popular opinion. Pilate knew too
well what were the Jewish expectations of a Messiah to suppose for an instant that
the High Priests had delivered Jesus over because He sought to rescue His nation
from a foreign domination. He appears never to have been deceived for a moment
as to the malignant motives of those who sought the death of Christ ; but he had
not the moral courage to stand out against the popular voice. {S. Baring Goulds
M.A,) Triumph of evil only apparent : — Jesus is given over to death. Wicked*
ness nas had its way ; righteousness and pity have been trodden down. Yet no
Divine defeat here. Though seemingly a victory for hell, it was really a triumph
for heaven. I. As A vindication of character. In no other way could such
irresistible proof have been given of Christ's sinlessness. Deadly foes, with every-
thing their own way, cannot find against Him a single cause of just accusation.
Six times He is declared by two Boman officials to be without fault. Throughout
the scene it is continually forced on us that Jew and Eoman are on trial, and Jesua
is the judge. Not by His charges, but by His silence, they are made to convict
themselves of prejudice, envy, hypocrisy, falsehood, outrage of justice, cruelty, and
murder. II. As A vulfilment of the Divine plan. The hope of the world was ful-
filled at this hour. Eden's distant anticipation of bruising the heel of Him who
should bruise the serpent's head ; Abraham, across the altar of his son, beholding
this day afar off ; Moses, lifting up the serpent in the wilderness ; the Psalmist's
picture of rejection, trial, and death ; that chapter in Isaiah where we are made to
stand beside the cross ; all these, and many another prophetic assurance, waited
for this tragic hour of salvation. Not alone through the love of friends, but even
more through the wrath of man, the purpose of God marched on through tears and
crime to redemption. III. Thb final outcoms of Chbist's condemnation displayed
WITH STABTLINa POWEB WHEBE DEFEAT AND TBIUMPH BESTED. Pilate gBVC Up JeSOS
to death to save his place ; soon he was accused to his master, and driven forth, a
broken-hearted exile. The priests persuaded the people to give Jesus to death to
save their place and nation ; that generation had not passed away before their own
madness brought down on them, ten thousand times repeated, all the cruelty and
outrage to which they had surrendered Him. But the crucified One — on the third
day rises, and on the fortieth ascends to the throne of God. To-day, while the
Koman Empire is only a name, and the Jew is a restless and affiicted wanderer,
Jesus triumphs. (C M. Southgate.) Chritt willing to be crucified : — Among the
Bomans the despotic power was so terrible, that if a slave had attempted the life of
his master, all the rest had been crucified with the guilty person. Bat oar
gracious Master died for His slaves who had conspired against Hun. He shed His
blood for those who spilt it. He was willing to be crucified, that we might be
glorified. Our redemption was sweeter to Him than death was bitter, by which it
was to be obtained. It was excellently said by Pherecides that God transformed
Himself into love when He made the world. Bat with greater reason it ia said by
the apostle, God is love, when He redeemed it. {Handbook to Scripture Doctritiei^
The scourging : — *' I will chastibe Him," said Pilate. The word used {irat£ty€iti
XT.] 8T, MARK, 661
is rantemptnoai ; it means to oorreot as a naughty child, or, u a slave, to scare
him against again oommitting the same offence. By Boman usage, when a slave
was about to be set free, his master led him before the Praetor, and the latter then
slightly beat the slave on the back with a rod {virgulta), as a reminder to him of
the slavery in which he had been, and from which he was about to be set free.
And now, see, the Jewish people lead Jeans, bound as a slave, before the Roman
governor, and Pilate igporantly deals with Him according to the law for the
manumission of slaves. He beats Him — but Jesus does not pass at once from His
court to freedom. He must first traverse the dark valley of death, and go to His
death through the way of sorrows. There were various kinds of scourges employed
among the Romans. There was the stick (ftutU), the rod {virga), the whip {lorumj,
which was of leather-platted thongs, and into the plats were woven iron spikes
(scorpio) or knuokle-bones of animals. When Behoboam said to the deputatiou,
*' My father chastised you with whips, but I will chastise you with scorpions," he
contrasted the simple scourge of leather thongs with that which was made more
terrible with the nails and spikes, and which was called the scorpion, and was in
use among the Jews as well as among the Romans. The lictors who stood about
the Praetor bore axes tied in bundles of rods. The rods were for beating, the axes
for decapitating ; but they only used the rods for persons of distinction and quality.
A Praetor such as PUate had six of such officers by him. We may be quite sure
that they did not proceed to unbind their bundles of rods to scourge Jesus
with them — that would be rendering Him too much respect. He would not be
beaten with the lictors' rods, but be scourged with the tiionged whip, armed
either with scorpions or knuckle-bones, the instrument of chastisement for
slaves and common criminals. Before Christ was scourged He was stripped of
His raiment before the people. His hands being bound and attached to a pillar.
We have descriptions from old heathen writers of the manner in which such a
scourging was performed. '* In Rome," says Aulus Gellius, ** in the Forum was a
post by itself, and to this the most illustrous man was brought, his clothes stripped
off, and he was beaten with rods." There is a profane Life of Christ, of uncertain
date, written in Hebrew, circulating anciently among the Jews, that embodies their
traditions about Christ, and in it it is said that ** The elders of Jerusalem took
Jesus and bound Him to a marble pillar in the city, and scourged £Qm there with
whips, crying out, • Where now are the wondrous works that Thou hast done ?'"
In the Jewish laws it is ordered that behind the man to be scourged shall stand a
stone, upon which the executioner shall take his place, so as to be well raised, that
thereby the blows he deals may fall with greater effect. It is probable that before
Herod's palace, where Pilate held his court, was a low pillar, and the prescribed
square block on which the executioner was to stand, whilst the person to be
scourged was fastened to the low pillar in a bowed position, the ropes knotted about
his wrists being passed through a ring strongly soldered into the stone pillar. Thus
the scourger stood above the man he beat, and struck downwards at his bent back.
The tradition that the scourging of Jesus took place somehow thus, that He was
attached to a pillar when beaten, is very old. {S. Baring Gould, M. A.) Contrast
between a scourged Christ and a pampered Christian: — Christ shows us how the
flesh ig to be mastered by the spirit, how we are to strive to obtain such a
dominion over cor bodies that we can bear pain without outcry and anger. Ood
Himself sends us pain sometimes, and we are disposed to be restive under it, to
murmur, and to reproach Him. Let us look to Jesus, scourged at the pillar, and
see how He endured patiently. Let us learn to keep the body under, and bring it
into subjection ; ease, luxury, sell-indulgence have a deadening effect on the soul,
and this is an age of self-indulgence. We are always intent on heaping to ourselves
comforts ; we have no idea of '* enduring hardships." We must have softer, deeper
carpets for our feet; garments that fit us most perfectly and becomingly, easy
chairs, soft springy beds, more warmth, better food, purple, fine linen, sumptuous
fare every day. Our rooms must be artistic, the decorations and colours aesthetic ;
the eye, the ear, the nose, the touch must all be gratified, and we seek to live for
the pleasures of the sense, and think it a sort of duty to have the senses tickled or
soothed. How strangely does the figure of Jesus, bowed at the pillar, with His
back exposed, and the soldiers lashing at Him with their whips loaded with
knuokle-bones, contrast with this modern foppishness and effeminacy ! What a
lesson he teaches of the control of the senses, of the conquest of the fiesh 1 I would
not Mj that it is wrong to cultivate art and to love that which is beautiful ; but it
is wrong to be so giren up to it as to allow the lovb of the ease and beauty and
56« THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [cha». xt,
graoefalness in modem life to take the fibre out of our sonls, and reduce as to moral
limpnesB. We must endure hardship as good soldiers of Jesus Christ ; we must
strive to be above the comforts and adornments of modem life, and make of
them the accident and not the substance of our existence. (Ibid,) Duty
and interest : — In Pilate's case, the particular influence that prevented was
the fear of man. ** What will the Jews say, v/hat will the Jews do, if I discharge
this Prisoner whom they wish me to condemn ? " When once men are governed
in their conduct, not by the sense of right, but by the desire to obtain the world's
approval, or the fear of incurring the world's hatred, they are at the mercy of the
winds and waves, without chart or rudder. They are not rocks against which the
waters break, but which stand unmoved because they are rooted into the solid earth,
but they are things that drift upon the surface, borne hither and thither as the
current sets or the breezes drive ihem. The man who owns Christ only when the
world tolerates it, or as far as the world bears it, will deny Christ when the world
frowns. It is impossible to be a lover of Christ and a lover of the world ; it ia
impossible to fear God and man too ; it is absolutely impossible to please men and
be the servant of Christ. (Oxford Lent Semums.)
Vers. 17-19. And they clothed Him with purple, and platted a crown of tbonu.—
Mock dignity : — Among the Babylonians and Persians it was customary on a certain
feast to bring forth a malefactor from the prison, to place him on a throne, adorned
with the royal insignia, to treat him with homage and honour, gi^e him a splendid
banqnet, and then tear o& his crown and royal apparel, scourge him, and put him
to death by burning him alive. In Aricia, the priest, king for the year, was
anciently sacrificed annually, but afterwards a slave was taken and adorned with
royal and priestly ornaments for a few days, and treated with all reverence, and
then was stripped and put to death. Throughout the heathen world, at midwinter,
it was customary to thus give a short-lived dignity to some person, who was after-
wards despoiled of his splendour and put to death, and this custom lingered on in
a modified form in Europe, and at Twelfth Night Epiphany kings and queens were
installed. Even in Mexico, when discovered and invaded by the Spaniards, a some-
what similar usage was found. A young man for a whole year was treated with
homage, and given everything he desired, and then was suddenly despoiled and pnt
to death. Haman, when he desired the royal apparel for himself, and the royal
steed, had little idea that he was seeking a brief glory which woold end in the
gallows, just like the annual exaltation and execution of the Sagan, as he was called.
The Bomans kept their Saturnalia when the slaves took their masters' places, and
were dressed in the best robes, and banqueted at their tables, whilst their lords
served them. And then, in a night, all was changed, and the slave was subjected
to the rod and bondage. The soldiers were wont to keep their Saturnalia, and knew
all about the custom of dressing up a victim as a king, then disrobing him and pat-
ting him to death, and now they practised this on Jesus. Their act was not one
prompted by a sudden fancy. It was a thing to which they were either themselves
accustomed, or knew of it as a rite still in nse. They regarded Jesus as a victim,
and as a victim they treated Him to this short honour ; but they did it, for all that,
in mockery. (S. Baring Gould, M.A.) A crown of thorns .-—We usually think ot
it as with an Eastern diadem ; but it was far more probably in imitation of the victor's
wreath, which the emperor of the time was so fond of wearing, as the statues of
Liberins abundantly testify. One of the soldiers must have ran into the garden of
the palace, or down the rocky valley hard by, and gathered a handful of thorny
bramble : of what kind it was, has been often disputed. Those who thought most
of the infliction of pain fixed on an Acanthus, with long spikes that sting as well
as prick ; others, who saw in the crowning more of mockery than cruelty, chose the
Nebk — the Spina Cbristi — which, with its pliant twigs and bright ivy-like leaves,
best recalls the Imperial wreath. Whichever it was, it is enough for as to feel, as
an evidence of the restitution wrought by the Incarnation, that what sprang from
the ground as a curse on Adam's transgression, was woven into a crown, and worn
by Christ. (H. M. Lttckockt D.D.) The curse and crown of thoms : — And thos,
as the eorse began in thorns (Gen. iii. 18), it ended in thoms. (Hiller,) Spm-
bolitm of the erown of thoms : — Thorns and briars were the curse of the earth, sent
because of man's disobedience, and after his expulsion from Paradise. There is,
therefore, a symbolical propriety in Christ assuming a crown of thoms. He who
had come to undo the fault of Adam, to take away its consequences, takes to His
head the symbol of the evil brought on the earth, and bears it on His temples. . .
. xf.] ST. MARK, 65a
Ood of old likened the law which He gave to Israel to a thorn hedge enclosing His
people. Christ has oome to take away the law of ordinances which tore and tor-
tared the Jewish people, and He takes its symbol, the thorny circle, and is crowned
with it. . . . The thorn has also the symbolic meaning of sin, and a dry thorn
was regarded as the symbol of a sinner (Ezek. ii. 3, 6). ... A thorn is symboUcal,
not of sin only, bat of mockery. As the thorn eaters into the flesh and works
itself deeper in, and rankles there, causing intolerable pain, and can only with the
greatest diffioiUty be extracted, so is it with the stabbing word of sarcMm — it
pierces deep into the heart, and festers there. (<Sf. Baring Oould, M.A,) The
etmmatum of Christ : — The thorn chaplet was a triumphal crown. Christ had fought
with sin from the day when he first stood foot to foot with it in the wilderness, up
to the time when He entered Pilate's hall, and He had conquered it. As a witness
that He had gained the victory, behold, sin's crown seized as a trophy I What was
the crown of sin ? Thorns. But now Christ has spoiled sin of its richest regalia,
and He wears it Himself. Glorious Champion, all hail I (C. JET. Spurgeon.) Tlie
thorn crown a ttimulus: — In the thorn crown I see a mighty stimulus. 1. To fervent
love. Can you see Christ crowned with thorns, and not be drawn to Him ? 2. To
repentance. Can you see your best-beloved put to such shame, and yet hold truce
or parley with the sins which pierced Him. It cannot be. (ibid.) The thorn
crown a shelter : — Of ttimes I have seen the blackthorn growing in the hedge all
bristling with a thousand prickles, but right in the centre of the bush have I seen
the pretty nest of a httle bird. Why did the creature plaoe its habitation there ?
Beoaase the thorns become a protection to it, and shelter it from harm. And to
yon I would say — Build your nests within the thorns of Christ. It is a safe plaoe
for sinners. Neither Satan, sin, nor death can reach you there. And when you
have done that, then come and crown His sacred head with other crowns. What
glory does He deserve? What is good enough for Him? If we could take all the
precious things from all the treasuries of monarchs, they would not be worthy to be
pebbles beneath His feet. If we could bring Him all the sceptres, mitres, tiaras,
diadems, and all other pomp of earth, they would be altogelJier unworthy to be
thrown in the dust before Him. Wherewith shall we crown Him ? Come, let us
weave our praises together, and set our tears for pearls, our love for gold. They will
sparkle like so many diamonds in His esteem, for He loves repentance, and He loves
faith. Let us make a chaplet with our praises, and crown Him as the laureate of
graoe. Oh, for grace to do it in the heart, and then in the life, and then with the
tongue, that we may praise Him for ever who bowed His head to shame for us.
(Ibid.) A crown of thorns : — When John Huss, the Bohemian martyr, was brought
out to be burnt, they put on his head a triple crown of paper, with painted denls ou
it. On seeing it he said, " The Lord Jesus Christ for my sake wore a crown of
thorns. Why should not I then for His sake wear this light crown, be it ever so
ignominious ? Truly I will do it and that willingly." When it was set upon his
head, the bishop said, " Now we commend thy soul to the deviL " ** But I," said Huss,
lifting up his eyes to heaven, " do commit my spirit into Thy hands. O Lord Jesus
Christ, to Thee I commend my spirit, which Thou hast redeemed 1 " When the
fagots were piled up to his very neck, the Duke of Bavaria was officious enough to
desire him to abjure. " No," said Huss, " I never preached any doctrine of any
evil tendency, and what I have taught with my lips I now seal with my blood."
{Mother* s Treasury.) The erue I coronation : — First, the cruel coronation is set before
us ; secondly, the abjects exulting over their supposed victim, mocking Him and
hailing Him with the supposition that He only pretended to be a king ; but we can-
not stop there — ^we must go on to notice His exaltation in consequence, and look
to Him where He is. I. I was led to the first statement from the circumstance of
the rejoicings in the week that is past, on account of its being coronation week, or
coronation day. " Well," I said in my own soul, as I turned over the leaves of my
Bible, " every day of my life, God helping me, shall be a coronation day. He must
be crowned Lord of all. But mark, in His official character He must be crowned
oroelly with thorns first. Thorns were the symbol of the curse. When Grod
pronounced a corse upon creation, in consequence of man's fall, it was said,
" Thorns also and thistles shall it bring forth unto thee." Not a few, yea, prob-
ably, all of God's saints have had to experience that there are thorns in their path,
that there are thorns around them, that there are thorns in their choicest gardens,
perhaps, in their families, in their children ; that there are thorns in their most
pleasant dronmstanoee, that there are thorns in their most prosperous businesses,
that there are thorns in their fondest hopes ; but none among them, that I have ever
654 THE BIBLICAL ILLU8TBAT0R. [ora». xfi
heard of, have been crowned with thorns. I sometimes flinch if a thorn only tonchef
my finger — I eometimes flinch if a thorn seems threatening the destmotion of my
fond expectation. What should I do if I were brought to be crowned with them ?
That was only the honour belonging to the King of kings, who, though King of
kings, was the Prince of sufferers ; and this Prince of suflerers was crowned with
that curse which belonged to poor, fallen, ruined sinners, and which must have
crushed you and me into eternal destruction, if He had not been crowned with it.
Have we never read, that He was "made a corse for us," because ♦• it is written,
Cursed is every one that hangeth on a tree." When this crown of thorns was placed
upon the head of our blessed Lord, it was that as a crowned head He should pro-
claim the liberation of His people from the curse. As though He bad said, " Plat
it closely, take them all in, do not leave a single thorn for My bride, do not leave
a single point that shall be experienced, in a judicial sense, for any that the Father
gave Me ; plat it thicker, plat it higher, lay it heavier, that I may endure all." And
why? Because He loved His Church, and would put away the curse, and secure
the blessing of His Father upon them, and at least welcome them home with the
very appellation of blessing, " Come, ye blessed of My Father." II. Let vs advanob
TO TAKE A VIEW OF THESE ABJECTS, THAT WEBB EXULTING IK HiS SCFFEBINOB. Are
there not many such mockers now P But just look for a moment at the characters
set forth here, as the abjects that mocked Him. •* What 1 " say you, " are we to
count chief priests and scribes among the abjects f *' I do so always, and among the
very worst of abjects. What was Pilate? an abject. What were the priests, that
prompted and goaded the people to cry, " Away with Him, away with Him." They
were all abjects, decided mockers of Christ. And yet these abjects did not like to
go forward in a party by themselves, but must summon the other abjects to do so for
them. Now look for a moment how Christ is mocked, in the present day, with all
the gaudy show, with all the mimicry of expressions in honour of Him, in wjbiob
the heart does not go, with all the superstitious ceremonies and abominable idola-
tries that are palmed upon men under the name of Christianity ! But yon will
observe, that amidst all this insult and mockery, which was heaped upon Jesus when
He was upon earth, by these abjects, yet they were obliged to honour Him as King,
and they cried out, though they only meant it in mockery, •• Hail, King of the
Jews." Now panse here for a moment, just to ask the quession, " How do I honour
Him ? " Are we really honouring Him as our King ? or are we fleeing from Him,
as His disciples did amidst His sufferings. UI. This will lead he to sat a ntw
WORDS ABOUT His PBEBENT EXALTATION. Now this proscnt exaltatiou, I am told, if
*' at the right hand of the Majesty on high," where He is enthroned in gloiy. (/.
Irons, M,A,)
Ver. 20. And led Him out to crucify mm.^Preparatiom for erueiJlxUm ;— Tht
case was shut and the last chance was gone, and Pilate uttered the terrible formnUk,
** Go, soldier ; get the cross ready ! " The cross, perhaps, was found on a pile of
grim lumber in some prison-yard not far off. Perhaps it was a bole of some
common tree, with the boughs lopped off and the bark left on. This log and iti
transverse beam had to be roughly knocked together at the place of crucifixion —
not before. Some officer would say to the man and his mates who went for it :
" You may as well bring two other crosses, for there are two other men to be cruoi*
fied, and we may as well put them all three to death together, and so save trouble."
Meanwhile, there stands Jesus meekly waiting, still thorn-crowned — for, when the
soldiers took away the fantastic robe they did not take away (according to any evi-
dence that we have) the crown of thorns. Then the two convicts are fetched out,
and yonder they slouch. Ah 1 I can almost see the two horrors — two hard, white-
grey cruel faces, two pairs of eyes that shift and shine under two shocks of rough wild
hair. Now all is ready. The three are formed into a line, each one carrying a part of
his cross, and each one has slung before him, from his neck, a board whitened with
gypsum, on which yon see his name and crime scored in great red letters. A cen-
turion, on horseback, goes first ; and then comes the Holy One, sinking under the
shaft of His cross. The oner walks by His side, shouting, *' Jesus of Nazareth,
the King of the Jews ! Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews I " The second man
comes eiter Him, and the third man after him, attended in like manner. Ab they
stagger slowly along, all the reeking, ragged lazzaroni swarm out in larger numbers
from the slums of outcast Jerusalem, leaping, laughing, swearing, and playing off
piMtical jokes upon one another. {Charles Stanford, D.D.) The way to the
«roft.*— The procession formed, and started on its way. First went a trumpeter to
iBir. XT.] 8T. MARK. 65£
call attention and elear the road. This was nsnal hoth among the Eomans and
the Jews. Among the latter a herald led the way, crying out, •' So and so, the son
of BO and so, is being led forth to execution. The witnesses against Him are so and
80. If any one knows any reason why the sentence be remitted or deferred, let
him now declare it.*' Also, when a criminal had been sentenced, two members of
the council accompanied him to execution. We may be sure it was so on this occa-
Bion. Jesus had been condemned to death by the Sanhedrim, and members of it
would be likely to attend and see that Christ was really slain ; we find also that when
He hung upon the cross some of these were present, who mocked, and these were
probably the two members delegated to assist at the execution, according to law. A
centurion also attended the procession, mounted on horseback. He represented
the governor, and his function was to see that the execution was properly and fully
carried out, and that the person executed died on his cross. We see in the presence
of the centurion under the cross, when Christ died, as well as in that of the chief
priests deriding Jesus as He hung, one of those many little touches of truth, those
undesigned coincidences, which serve to show the fidelity of the record to the facts
of the case. A considerable detachment of soldiers was also in attendance, and
accompanied the Lord on His way to death. There were fears of a riot, and possibly
of an attempt to release the two thieves. If these were, as we may suppose, of the
band of Barabbas, they were not only found guilty because theywere robbers, but
also because they were political offenders. The mob had demanded and obtained
the release of Barabbas ; it was not unUkely they might make an attempt to free
the two other conspirators. Now try to picture the train as it moved. The streets
of Jerusalem were narrow, and though the road chosen was one of the principal
streets, yet that street was by no means broad. It was part of the custom to con-
vey criminals to death through the most frequented portions of the city. Quinc-
tilian says, ** As often as we crucify criminals, the most populous streets are
traversed, so that the crowd may see and be filled with fear." Another ancient
writer gives a description of the cross-bearing of a slave, which is interesting, as it
shows what the usage then was, and helps us to realize the scene when Christ went
through the streets of Jerusalem to His passion. He says that a noble Boman had
delivered over one of his slaves to death, and he bade the fellow-slaves convey this
man about Bome, and make his death as conspicuous and notorious as possible.
He had been first scourged in the Forum, and then dragged about to all the most
frequented parts of the city. He was made to carry his cross, his hands were bound
to the arms of the cross, and the f uU weight of the rough cross was laid on his back
and shoulders, bleeding and raw from the scourging he had received. . . . The
Btreets were not only narrow, but they were winding. The way led to the gate
Oennath, or the Garden Gate, which was in the comer between the old wall of Zion
and the wall of the lower town, and belonged to the latter. It was so called, be-
cause, outside the city, to the north of the Pool of Hezekiah, lay gardens belonging
to oitizens, one of which, as we learn later, belonged to Joseph of Arimathea.
The procession moves on, in the full glare of day, with the hot Syrian sun stream-
ing down on the train. Above, the sky is blue, Uie street, though narrow, is full of
light, for the walls reflect the glare of the sun. (8. Baring Oould, M.A,) Tlie
tcene at Calvary : — I. What was crucifixion f To the devout Christian every item
of information he can gain concerning that dread scene at Calvary is of the utmost
▼alne. 1. It was foreign in every sense in its infliction upon our Lord. This kind
of capital punishment was Boman, and not Jewish. 2. It was excessively cruel in
its detailB. The word which it has given to our English language indicates its
severity. To be •• excruciated '* simply means to be in suffering like that of cruci-
fixion ; it signifies the extreme anguish to which human sensibility can go. 8. It
was long and lingering in its operation. Severe as these wounds were, they could
never be very dangerous. Hardly more than a few drops of blood fell from th^.
It would have been too much of a merciful indulgence for this mode of execution
to make any of its agonising strokes immediately fatal. Death did not ensue some-
times until after several days of torture. Even then it was brought on by weakness
and starvation, coupled with the low fever which the inflammation from the wounds
sooner or later produced. The great suffering was caused by the constrained pos-
ture on the cross, the soreness of the members from the nails, and of the back from
the welts raised by the whips in the scourging. Every motion brought with it only
anguish without relief. Thus the poor body was permitted to hang with no respite
and no hope, through the night and through the day, in the dullness of the evening,
in the heat of the noon, until death put an end to consciousness and to life. 4
6d< THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [ohap. st.
Sach » panisbment powerfnlly arrested the popular imagination as a speotaole.
Sometimes the military men put on guard were compelled to aooelerate the final
agony by brutally beating the legs of the viotims with bludgeons till the bones
were crushed and the sudden shocks produced collapse. No wonder people called
this "the most cruel, the worst possible fate." It is on record that a soldier once
said that, of aJl the awful sounds human ears could be forced to listen to, the
most terrible out of hell were those pitiable cries, in the solemn silence of the mid-
night, from the lonely hill where crucified men were hanging in agonies out of
which they could not even die while a breath to suffer with remained. 6. So we see
whence came the suggestion of a crucifix as a symbol of faith and penitence. It is
not likely that the physical pains of our Lord were the severest He had to bear ; but
they certainly have availed from the earliest time to move the hearts of the simple-
minded common people. Nor is this all : there are moments of deep spiritual feeling
when even the most cultivated penitent will find an argument in the •• agony and
bloody sweat " as well as in the " cross and passion " of the Divine Redeemer.
The popular mind is moved by such a picture ; but the mistake might easily be
made of trusting a crucifix in an impulse of superstition, instead of Christ on a
principle of faith. II. So much, then, as to the manner of our Lord's crucifixion ;
now comes up for our study a far more interesting question concerning its meaning.
1. Considered merely as a matter of historic incident, the death of Jesus Christ is
of little, if any, spiritual value. Doubtless there were other executions at Golgotha
before and after this one, equally painful and equally iniquitous — for the Boman
government in Palestine was never free from charges of injustice. We do not care,
however, to remember the sufferers' names. And Christ's crucifixion is but one
more wail of abused humanity, if we contemplate it alone. 2. We must consider
this event as a matter of theological doctrine. When history is so momentous and so
mysterious as this, we are compelled to read below the surface and between the lines.
He was " delivered by the determinate counsel and foreknowledge of God *' in order
that He should suffer precisely as He did (Acts ii. 23). Men wreaked their violent
passions upon Him, and it was by wicked and responsible hands He was crucified
and slain. Messiah was " cut off, but not for Himself " (Dan. ix. 26). The wisdom
of God overruled the wrath of His murderers to the Divme glory and the salvation
of men. One of the ancient commentators springs up almost out of sober exposi-
tion into the realm of song, as he exclaims ; *' In their frantic anger they pluck to
pieces the Rose of Sharon ; but by so doing they only display the brilliance of every
petiJ. In their fury they break a diamond into fragments ; by which they only
cause it to ehovr its genuineness by its sparkling splinters. They are anxious to tear
from Immanuel's head the last remnant of a crown ; but they only lift the veil from
the forehead of His majesty I " 3. More than anything else we must also consider
the crucifixion of Jesus as a matter of vicarious atonement. There is something
very fine in the quiet simplicity with which one of the apostles explains this entire
scene at Calvary : " All have sinned.*' Christ died to be ** a propitiation through
faith in His blood " (Rom. iii. 23-26). Pilate wrote an inscription to be put over
the head of the Saviour ; according to a Roman custom, this was designed to ex-
plain the transaction to all who stood by. The true inscription on the cross would
be " Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners." These are the words which
would give to the scene at Calvary its eternal interpretation before the Church and
the ages. The very voice of Immanuel Himself as He seems to speak out of the
midst of His suffering, is : " See 1 I have taken away the handwriting that was
against you, and have nailed it to My cross *' (Col. ii. 13, 14). The one word which
describes the whole gospel plan of salvation is substitution, Christ was sinless, yet
He suffered : we are sinful, yet we go free (2 Cor. v. 21). 4. This will lead at last
to our consideration of the crucifixion as a matter of personal experience. Believers
all glory in the cross. Many a death-bed has been iUumined by its light. Many a
sorrowful and lonely heart has been encouraged by the remembrance of it. There
have been old men, just trembling on the verge of the tomb, whose eyes filled with
the tears of grateful gladness as they died thinking of it. There have arisen voices
from around the stake in the midst of the martyr's flames, singing praise to Him
who hung upon it. Many a bowed sinner has come forth into freedom as he laid
his burden at the foot of the cross. This personal experience begins with self-re-
nunciation. Every other reliance must absolutely be surrendered, and each soul
must become content to owe its salvation to Jesus Christ's merits, not to its own. So
this personal experience continues to the end with a deep soHcitude against lapsing
into sin again. {C. S. Bobituon, D.DJ*
OBAT. z?.] 8T. MARK. 657
Ver. 21. And tbey compel one Simon a Cyrenlan. — Bearing the cross : — ^I. In
going through the history of the fact, our thoughts must glance along the lines
or THS CONNBCTIOM BETWEXN THB IiAST APPBAL OV PlLATB, " Behold, the Man,"
AND THB SUBJECT WHICH CltAIMS OUB ATTENTION NOW. 11. Wb PASS FBOM THE
HisTOBio TACT TO THX CHALLENQE FOUNDED UPON IT. In viow of what is HOW meant
by cross-bearing, we ask, " Who among you is willing to become a cross-bearer for
Christ ? " The only cross in prospect now is a cross for the soul. Carrying a cross
after Christ means, for one thing, some kind of suffering for Christ. View the
cross-bearing as something practical, in distinction from something only emotional,
and answer the question, "who is now willing to be a cross-bearer for Christ?"
♦* Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for Me, but weep for yourselves, and your
children 1 " On the roadside near an old Hungarian town, grey with the stains of
time and weather, there is a stone image of the great Cross-bearer, and under it is
sculptured this inscription in Latin ; " Is it nothing to ^ou, all ye that pass by f
Behold, and see if there be any sorrow lilfeelinEo'My sdirowl" ''The thorough w-oe-
begonfehess of that image," remaf^i'fih old SCholftT,'**^^^ haunt me long: that
old bit of granite — the beau-ideal of human sorrow, weakness, and woe-begoneness.
To this day it will come back upon me." Natural sensibility is not irreligious;
but, considered in itself alone, it is not religion. With all the pain of bursting
heart, and all the leverage of straining strength, Simon, bearing the cross for Christ,
is the perpetual type of one who not only feels for Christ, but who tries to do some-
thing. I charge you by the crown of thorns, that you shrink from no ridicule that
comes upon you simply for Christ's sake. On July Ist, 1415, when John Huss had
to die for Christ's sake, and when, on the way to the dread spot, tte^n&Sta put
npon his head a large paper cap, painted with grotesque figures of devils, and
inscribed with the word, ***H®tesiarcha 1 " he said, •*Our Lord wore a crown of
thorns for me ; why should not I wear this for Him ? " I charge you by the truth
ihatCbrrst was not ashamed of you, that you be not ashamed of Christ. In view
of the strength assured to each cross-bearer, who is willing ? {Charlei Stanford,
D.D.) Carrying the cross for Christ : — Christ comes forth from Pilate's hall with
the oumbroQB wood npon His shoulder, but through weariness He travels slowly,
and His enemies urgent for His death, and half afraid, from His emaciated appear-
ance, that He may die before He readies the place of execution, allow another to
carry His burden. The tender mercies of the wicked are cruel, they cannot spare
Him the agonies of dying on the cross, they will therefore remit the labour of
carrying it. They place the cross upon Simon, a Cyrenian, coming out of the
country. We do not know what may have been the colour of Simon's face, but it
was most likely black. Simon was an African ; he came from Cyrene. Alas poor
African, thou hast been compelled il!t*mffythe cross even until now. Hail, ye
despised children of the sun, ye foUow first after the King in the march of woe.
We are not sure that Simon was a disciple of Christ ; he may have been a friendly
spectator ; yet one would think the Jews would naturally select a disciple if they
could. Coming fresh from the country, not knowing what was going on, he joined
with the mob, and they made him carry the cross. Whether a disciple then or not,
we have every reason to believe that he became so afterwards ; he was the father,
we read, of Alexander and Bufli^St two persons who appear to have been well-known
in the early Church ; let us hope that salvation came to his house when he was
compelled to bear the Saviour's cross. {C. H. Spurgeon.) Simon helping Jesus : —
Little did these people know that they were making this man immortal I Notice
in this connection : L The Gbeatness of tbifles. Had Simon started from the
little village where he lived five minutes earher or later, had he walked a little
faster or slower, had he happened to be lodging on the other side of Jerusalem,
had he gone in at another gate, had the centurion not fixed on him to carry the
cross, all his life would have been different. And so it is always. Our lives are
Uke the Cornish rocking-stones, pivoted on little points. 1. Let us bring the
highest and largest principles to bear on the smallest events and circumstances.
2. Let US repose in quiet confidence on Him in whose hands the whole puzsling
overwhelming mystery lies. To Him " great " and " small " are tenns that have
no meaning. He looks upon men's lives, not according to the apparent magnitude
of the deeds with which they are filled, but simply according to the motives from
which, and the purpose towards which, they were done. II. The blessedness and
HOMOUB or hblpino Jesus Christ. Though He bore Simon's sins in His Own
^dy on the^ tree, He needed Simon to help Him fo" Bear the cross; and^ He needs
"^ help Him io spread throughout the world the blessed consequences of that
42
668 THE BIBLICAL ILLU8TBAT0B, [ohat. zn
oro00. For ns all there is granted the honour, and from na all there is required tht
Baorifice and the service of helping the suffering Saviour of men. m. Thb fxr-
PBTUAL BBCOHPEMSB AND BECOBD OF HUMBLEST GhBISTIAN WOBK. HoW little SimOO
thought, when he went back to his rural lodging that night, that he had written
his name high up on the tablet of the world's memory, to be legible for ever. God
never forgets, or allows to be forgotten, anything done for Him. We may not leave
our works on any record that men can read. What of that, if they are written in
letters of light in the Lamb's Book of Life, to be read out by Him, before His
Father and the holy angels, in the last great day. We may not leave any separate
traces of our service, any more than the little brook that comes down some gulley
on the hillside flows separate from its sisters, with whom it has coalesced in the
bed of the great river, or in the rolling, boundless ocean. What of that, so long
as the work, in its consequences, shall last ? lY. Thb blessed results of oontact
WITH THE suFFEBiKo Ghbist. Only by standing near the cross, and gazing on the
Crucified Jesus, will any of us ever learn the true mystery and miracle of Christ's
great and loving Being and work. Take your place there behind Him, near
His cross ; gazing upon Him till your heart melts, and you, too, learn that He is
your Lord, and Saviour, and God. Look to Him who bears what none can help
TTim to carry — the burden of the world's sin ; let Him bear yours ; yield to Hirn
your gratefiil obedience ; and then take up your cross daily, and bear the Ught
burden of self-denying service to Him who has borne the heavy load of sin for you
and all mankind. {A. Maelaren, D.D.) The compulsion of Simon: — The Persian
monarchs had a service of carriers or post, and these were called ^£|(in ; they
were allowed to seize on any horses and equipages they needed, to d^mas^ enter-
tainment wherever they came, free of expense, and this proved a great grievance.
The word passed into use among the Greeks {ayyapEveiv), and the Bomans exercised
pretty freely the same rights of requisitioning. When the Baptist said to the
soldiers, " Do violence to no man," he doubtless referred to this'lB^Btem of extorting
the use of iheir horses, thexr beasts, even their own work, out of subject people,
without payment. {S. Baring Goulds M.A.) Simon helping Jems: — We are
not told as much, but we may conclude that Jesus had fallen under the weight. He
seemed unable to bear the cross any further. Perhaps He had fainted from the
loss of blood and from the long fasting. He sank on the pavement, and could bear
the wood no longer. Something of the sort must have occurred, or the centurion
would not have halted the convoy, and ordered that the cross should be transferred
to another. This was not done out of compassion, but out of necessity. Jesua
could not bear it any further ; therefore, in order that the place of execution might
be quickly reached, some one else must be got to carry it. No Boman would carry
the cross. To do so would dishonour him. The soldiers looked out for some one,
and seized on Simon. They were wont thus to requisition men and animals for
the service of the State. Simon was a foreigner, a native of Lybia in Africa, a dark
man, possibly not exactly a negro, but so dark-complexioned that he went by the
name of Niger, or the BlacF'M&n;- He was coming into the town, probably laden
with the wood for the fire on which the Easter lamb was to be burnt, for on thia
day of the preparation the Jews were wont to go out of the city and collect the
necessary wood, lay it on their shoulders and bring it home. So now, on the day
of the preparation, the Lord carries on His shoulders the wood for the new
sacrifice, on which He, the Lamb of God, was to have His life consumed.
As He goes. He meets Simon carrying the wood into Jerusalem for the typical
lamb. The soldiers at once seize Simon, make him cast down his load, and take
on his shoulders the burden of Christ's cross. He was the first ; he, this African,
to take up the cross, and follow Christ ; he, the representative of the race of Ham,
the most despised of all the descendants of Noah, that on which the yoke of bond-
i^age seems ever to have pressed. And now, how wonderful, if this our conjecture be
i'time. The Bomans and Greek, representatives of Japhet ; the Jews, representatives
I of Shem ; and Simon, the representative of Ham, are all united in one stream,
I setli&|^4orward to Calvary. Each, this day,*gives a pledge of conversion ; the
centurion, the son of Japhet ; the thief, the son of Israel, of Shem ; and, first
of all, the Cyrenian, the descendant of Ham. . . . Simon was compelled. He was
not, at first, willing to take it ; if, as we suppose, he was carrying hia bundle of wood.
he was constrained to lay that down. So must we lay aside every weight, and the
13n that doth so easily besot us, that we may follow after Jesus, bearing Hii
reproach. Simon shrank both from thS burden and from the shame, and the natural
man shrinks from the cross of Christ, shrinks from the cross that God lays on us.
. XT.] ST, MARK, 669
He compels ns to bear the cross ; and though we may wish to escape it at first,
yet, if like Simoa we submit, and bear it in a right spirit, it^wiU bring us, as it did
Smaon, to meeknesB and patience, and a more perfect knowTecTgOf'Cirfist. {Ihid:)
STidpe'^'the cross':— i'iie'^h'S^ of the cross on which our Lord suliered has been
much debated. Some ancient Fathers, fancying they found a typical reference in
the crossing of the hands over the head of the scape-goat, and in the peculiar mode
in which Jacob blessed his grandsons, often assumed that it was in the form of
what is commonly called a St. Andrew's Cross ; others again, seeing in the mystical
mark or Tau set upon the foreheads of the righteous in Ezekiel's vision a fore-
thadowing of the cross, concluded that it was like that which bears the name of
St. Anthony, in form like a capital T"* I* is far more probable that it was what is
known familiarly as the Latin Gross. It was prefigured by the transverse spits
which the priest placed in the Pascal lamb. Its four arms, pointing to the four
quarters of the globe, symbolized "the breadth, and length, and depth, and height "
of Christ's universal Church. It is a strong argument in favour of this form that
•• the inscription " was set above the head of the Crucified, which would be im-
possible in either of the other forms. (H. M. Luckock, D.D.) Sharing the crosa
toith Jesus : — Jesus was pleased to take man unto His aid, not only to represent His
Own need, and the dolorousness of His Passion, but to consign the duty unto man,
that we must enter into a fellowship of Christ's sufferings, taking up a cross of
martyrdom when God requires us, enduring affronts, being patient under affliction,
loving them that hate us, and being benefactors to our enemies, abstaining from
sensual and intemperate dehght, forbidding ourselves lawful recreations when we
have an end of the spirit to serve upon the ruins of the body's strength, mortifying
our desires, breaking our own will, not seeking ourselves, being entirely resigned
to God. These are the cross and the naUs, and the spear and the whip, and all the
instruments of a Christian's passion. {Bishop Jeremy Taylor.) Simon bearing
the cross : — A scene for all the ages of time and all the cycles of eternity ; a cross
with Jesus at the one end of it, and Simon at the otjie?, suggesting the"?dearto
eVBfftrmiMeJ' sou!, that no one tieed ever carry a whole cross. You have only half
a cross to carry. li you are in poverty, Jesus was poor, and HeT'SdttffeS aild takel"
ttl& other end of the cross. If ytJttlBte in persecution, Jesus was persecuted too.
If you are in any kind of trouble, you have aTspipiStMzing Redeemer. Let this be
a lesson to each of us. 1? ^on find a man in persecution, or in sickness, or in
trouble of any kind, go up to him and say, " My brother, I have come to help you.
Ton take hold of one end of this cross, and I will take hold of the other end, and
Jesus Christ will come in and take hold of the;middle of the cross ; after a while
there will be no cross at all." {T. De Witt Talmage, D.D.) A strange episode :—
Simon was probably a pilgrim to the feast ; possibly had not known of the existence
of Jesus Christ before ; is not now seeking Him. But Christ crosses his path ; and
forced to yield a detested service, Simon learns in the brief companionship of a
few hours enough to lead him to yield to Christ the service of a life. There is
; something very characteristic about this story. The Saviour is perpetually crossing
' ftfCin^i patbrln'Kf6 ; dtJing so siometimes painfully with some awful thought, painful
HSfflfcCthwaTting some plan, spoiling some hoUday pleasure, or some effort to get
i gain. And constantly we see the pain of first acquaintance, the early resentment
I against the gospel for spoiling plans and pleasures, giving way, and changing into
\ lifelong fidelity. {B, Qlover,) So he got linked for ever to the Lordl (J,
\ Morison, DJ),)
Ver. 22. The place Ctolffotluu — Golgotha. — The place of execution: — CJalvary, or
Golgotha, is not now distinguishable as a hill, partly because of the accumulation
of rubbish from the ruin of the city, in the hollows and valleys, and partly because
it is doubtful whether it ever was, properly, a hill. It stood below Zion, and was
looked down on from Herod's new palace, but it was slightly above the elevation
of the lower town. Its name, Golgotha, more correctly, Golgoltha, comes from the
same root as Gilgal, that signifies a hill, and the term golgoi was used for sacred
stones, employed in the heathen rites of the Ganaanites and Phoenicians, in their
worship of Venus (Baaltis). As in Wales and Cornwall, and in Scotland, Pen
means " head " and •'mountain,** so this word golgoi came to have a double mean-
ing. Among the earlv Christians a legend existed, that Calvary took its name from
Adam's skull having been buried there, and it is possible that the Jewish rabbis had
■ucn a story ; but the name Calvary, or Golgotha, properly means only i\iB rounded
stone t and by a corruption of the original signification was taken to signify " the
660 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [ohaf. st»
place of m skull.** Jast in the same way, the Oapitoline hill, in Borne, wm m
called, becanse it was a rounded elevation, but afterwards a fable grew up that i%
took it3 designation from the head of a certain Tolus having been dug up there.
The spot, Calvary, would seem to have been the place of execution from an ancient
date. It is probably mentioned by Jeremiah (xxzi. 38, 39), m a propUecy concerning
the rebuilding and enlargement of Jerusalem, in which he foretells that the wall
would be built in an extended arc from the hill of Gareb in the East, sweeping
round, along the North, to the hill of Goath in the West — and Goath, here, answers
to Calvary, and means the place of execution His prophecy was fulfilled about
seven years after the death of Christ, by Agrippa, when Golgotha was actually
enclosed within the new walls; and at the present day it lies within the city. {S,
Baring Gouldf M.A.)
Ver. 24. But He received it not.— -TTtne mingled with myrrK^TTie ttupefying^
potion .-—Solomon's words in Prov. xxxi. 6, 7, were taken by the Jews to apply to
such as were condemned to death, and it was usual for the most illustrious and
honourable women of Jerusalem to attend criminals to their execution, and to give
them to drink, before they were put to death, wine and myrrh, with gall, which was
regarded as numbing the nerves, and superinducing sleep. The Talmud says that
they were wont to put a grain of incense in the draught, as that deadened the sense
of pain. It says further, " The women of highest rank in Jerusalem, out of free
impulse, and at their own cost, gave the condenmed man this draught. But if it
should so happen that the noble ladies failed to do so, then the cost of providing
this drink fell on the community, and was paid for out of the public fund." This
was sometimes the case among the heathen. We are told that at the annual feast
of Chronos, when a man was put to death to expiate the sins of the people, he wa»
first made drunk with wine, and then executed whilst in a state of intoxication.
Among the ancients, myrrh was regarded as having great efiectas a pain-killer, and,
indeed, it will be found to be one of the principal ingredients in modem compounds,
sold for the purpose of deadening the nerves to sii&ering. Accordingly, the pious
women who followed Jesus were only acting according to immemorial custom, when
they followed Him weeping, bearing the cup of wine, mingled with myrrh and gall,
and of ered it to Him before He was stretched on the cross, and His hands and feet
nailed to the wood. He, however, turned away His head. He would not drink of
the offered cup ; not because He disapproved of the piety and pity of the women
who offered it, but because He would not seem in any way to evade the sufferings
He had come to endure. (Ibid.) Christ refuting any alleviation oj
His suffering:— J, The boubce of thb hobal majesty or the Son of Mah.
That was Clmst's power, the yielding to the loving wiU of Heaven, even though it
led Him into darkness so deep and vice so unutterable, that His fainting humanity
sank beneath the awful burden of the spirit's agony; not choosing suffering in order
that He might grandly bear it, but, because it came from Heaven, refusing to accept
any deliverance from man. IL What was the MEANiNa or the consubiuation or
Chuist's suftebings? That man might be reconciled to God, and two things were
requisite. 1. Man must learn the majesty of God's law. 2. He must be drawn by
love to the Divine One. Both these receive glorious illustrations from these words.
III. The oleabkess or Chbist*8 vision or death. He resolved to die with His
mental vision clear and calm. IV. The duty or Ghbist's disciples. Not to seek
suffering, but when it comes in the path of duty to meet it calmly, resolutely, and
fearlessly. V. The poweb or Ghbist's claims on all hen. (E. L. HulU B,A,}
Christ refusing the stupefying draught .'—The intention of the soldiers was humane.
Crucifixion was so lingering and painful that it was customary thus to deaden the
consciousness of the criminal. L What was the Savioub's condition at tha»
MOMENT? Intense anguish of soul combined with physical suffering. Christ's
nature was pecuharly sensitive. The sorrow at Gethsemane had already weakened
Him. Now His sorrow had reached its height. U. Why did He befuse tbm
PROFTEBED BELIEF? Not to awakcu mcu's admiration. Not to awaken men's
sympathy. 1. Because His sufferings were by Divine appointment; not simply
accidental. He would not escape the full force of the penalty which He had under-
taken to endure. 2. Because He was imwilling to die without a full consciousness
of the conquest which He was achieving over sin and death. III. What enable)
Him to dispense with this STUPErviNO dbauoht ? It was the direct result of Hiv
self -surrender to the Father. He who gives up will, purpose, life, into the hands of
Ood, may expect that Grod will be all in all to him. IV. What lesson dobs Hb^
zv.] ST. MARK. 661
RBTUOAL TKAOH uf ? 1. HIb time nobility. 2. Our own duty under triaL ** The cup
which My Father hath given Me, ehall I not drink it.*" It is our privilege to accept
the Saviour's love. He suffered, died, arose, ascended to Heav«n, and pleads now
for us. {Seeds and Saplingt.)
Yer. 24. Tbf7 parted His garmente. — The soldien :— The soldiers who crucified
our Lord were not Jews, but Bomans ; they had not, therefore, the same grounds of
opposition to Him which the Jews had : they had not the same expectations of the
Messiali, nor the same prejudices as to the perpetuity of the Mosaic ritual ; and yet
they participated largely in the great crime of His crucifixion. All classes were, in
an extraordinary manner, brought in contact with the Kedeemer during His last
sufferings, that all might have an opportunity of displaying the state of their minds
towards Him, of showing how they were affected towards the Saviour of men. It
is remarkable what a share all ranks had in His death, — priests, rulers, the common
people, kings, governors, soldiers ; the rich and the poor, the high and the low, the
religious and the profligate, the learned and the rude ; from the representative of
Caesar on the Roman tribunal, to the wretched malefactor on the cross ; from the
sanctimonious Pharisee, with his phylacteries and his prayers, to the profane and
profligate wretch who lived without a thought of God ; from the learned Eabbi,
with his books and his speculations, to the illiterate peasant who knew not the use
of letters ; from the king, with his insignia of royalty, down to the poor drudge
who scarcely dared to call himself a man ; from the high priest, with his sacerdotal
vestments and functions, down to the Gentile soldier, — all were brought near Him
during His last sufferings ; all had a voice or a hand in them ; and all showed that
their hearts were not with Him. We have now brought before us the actual perpe-
trators of the murder of Jesus Christ. Indeed, we have here a striking illustration
of the difference between the act and the guilt. The actual murderers of Jesus
were not the most criminal ; perhaps they were the least so of all the parties con-
cerned in the transaction. The soldiers who executed the sentence of death upon
Jesus were not so guilty as Pilate who pronounced it; Pilate who pronounced it was
not so guilty as the people who demanded it; and the people who demanded it were
not so guilty as the priests and rulers who designed it, and who instigated the whole
proceeding. Guilt pertains not so much to the hand as to the head, and still more
to the heart ; it lies not so much in the deed, as in the design and purpose of the
inner man. The priests and rulers who did not touch Him were far more guilty of
His murder than the soldiers who actually nailed Him to the cross. The remarks
we have to offer on the conduct of the soldiers will relate to the brutality which
marked their treatment of the Bedeemer, and then to their unconscious connection
with the greatest event which the history of the world records. I. Our first remarks
will relate to ths bbutauty and cbcelty ov the soldiers towabds Jesus. It is
to be observed that there was not, on the part of the soldiers, any personal enmity
to Jesus. But still there were evident marks of brutality and cruelty; such were
their stripping Him of His raiment, arraying Him in the old scarlet robe, putting
the reed in His hand as a mock sceptre, crowning Him with thorns, bowing the knee
to Him, and crying, ** Hail, King of the Jews 1 " How are we to account for this
barbarity of the Boman soldiers towards one who was guilty of no crime. 1. Their
occupation tended to blunt their sensibilities, and to harden their hearts. They
were familiar with deeds of horror and of blood, not only on the field of battle, but
in the prison-house, and the place of public execution ; they were familiar with
fetters and stripes ; they sported vrith lacerations and death. Strange things the
human heart can be brought to. 2. But another reason may be assigned for it ; it
is found in our Lord's chum to royalty. He was accused of attempts against the
Boman government, and of declaring Himself the King of the Jews. They may
have heard of the expectations which prevailed amongst the Jews respecting the
Messiah. But the claims of Jesus, who seemed only a poor oppressed peasant, te
royalty, would appear to them ineffably absurd — a fit subject for derision and scorn.
Hence their indignities and insults were founded chiefly on this. Thus it often is :
men pronounce tiiat ridiculous which they do not understand ; they declare there is
nothing visible, because they are too blind to see. Hence, we perceive, how almost
aU sin is based on ignorance. Had the soldiers known Jesus they could not have
mocked Him. 8. But we have one remark more to offer on this part of our subject.
The eharacter which the soldier has ever been taught and accustomed to admire is
the opposite of that of Jesus Christ. The eharacter which he admires is the bold,
high-gpirited— keen to perceive insult, and quick to resent an injuxy; the meekness.
662 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [ohap. xt.
gentleness, forbearance of Jesus Christ were beyond his comprehension. It is ft
true remark, that mankind have almost always admired and landed the destroyer!
of their race more than their greatest benefactors. Indeed, the world's admiration
of conquerors is wonderful. Military greatness, as the eloquent Channing has justly
remarked, is by no means the highest order of greatness. With him we claim the
first rank for the moral ; real magnanimity, which, perceiving the true, the right,
the good, the pure, and loving it, cleaves to it at all hazards, and will die for it
rather than deny it. The second rank we assign to the intellectual ; the power of
thought which perceives the harmonies of the universe, which discloses the secrets
of nature, and, revealing to men some of the laws by which God governs the
material or the spiritual word, augments the po>verof man, and increases his means
of enjoyment. We cannot assign a higher than the third rank to the active ; the
energy and force of will which surmounts practical difficulties. And it is to this
class the soldier belongs : it is with the physical, not with the spiritual, that he has
to do. Hence Napoleon was not so great a man as Bacon and Newton, as Milton
and Shakespeare ; nor so great a benefactor to his race. Still less is he to be eom-
pared with Howard, with Carey, with Williams. Napoleon felt this; henoe he
wished to rest his fame far more on the noble code of laws which he was the means
of giving to his vast empire, than on all his splendid victories. We trust the days
are coming in which correct views of this subject will be generally formed ; and
that the discoveries of science, and the various inventions of man, will contribute,
in conjunction with the diffusion of the spirit of the gospel, to banish wars from
the earth. Meantime, as to the military profession, one wonders at the estimate in
which it is held. I speak not of individuals, but of the system. To think of men
letting themselves out for a shilling a day to shoot their fellow-oreatures, and to be
shot at 1 What a high estimate they must form of themselves I II. It is time that
we adverted to the second train of remark in which we propose to indulge. They
knew they had many hours to wait, and, having completed their task, they composed
themselves as well as they could ; they put themselves, mentally and physically, in
an attitude of patience, till death slowly, but surely, accomplished his work. " They
sat down and watched him there." There is something very affecting in the position
of him who sits down and watches a fellow-creature as life slowly ebbs. The tender
mother, as she watches her beloved child, or the affectionate daughter, as she
watches her aged parent, thus sinking in the arms of death, feels her position to be
at once a painful and a solemn one. Oh ! yes, in the chamber of the dying saint,
what solemn and impressive thoughts may we not indulge! But the men who were
appointed to see the last of Jesus, watched Him without the slightest emotion; they
were not impressed with the solemn character of their position ; death was there at
work, but they had been accustomed to his neighbourhood, and were unmoved by
his presence. Oh I how closely, and yet how unconsciously, may men be allied to
the most interesting and the most important events. How nnconscious were they
of the character of Him who was suffering there. They were utterly nnconscious
of His dignity or His worth ; they did not know that when they saw Him, they saw
the fullest and clearest revelation of God that the world ever beheld— that the ful-
ness of the Godhead dwelt in Him bodily. When God appeared on Mount Sinai,
the Jews trembled ; when the cloud filled the tabernacle and the temple, the priests
could not abide there, they were awe-struck ; but in Jesus, they had not simply a
symbol of the Divine presence — the Divinity itself dwelt in Him, so that His disciple
said, ** We beheld His glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father, full of
grace and truth;" and He said, **He that hath seen Me, hath seen the Father."
And little did they think, when they roughly bound Him, fiercely scourged Him,
and rudely nailed Him to the tree, that they had in their hands the Lord's anointed ;
that they were thus treating the only begotten and well-beloved Son of God ; that
they were thus touching the apple of His eye. Had they known Him, they would
not have crucified the Lord of glory ; had they known Him they would not readily
have touched Him, they would rather have trembled in His presence ; they would
have fallen down at His feet and worshipped Him. But not knowing Him, they
imbrued their hands in His blood ; unconsciously they crucified the Son of God.
Ignorance is a fearful thing ; say we not truly, sometimes, that all sin is a mistake,
— a grand, a fatal mistake ? How much evil may we do ignorantly ? Take heed of
your sins of ignorance. The apostle says, " Unawares some have entertained
angels," and some have entertained them strangely. Prophets, God-sent men, have
been among them, and they have not regarded them, but have treated them most
•ontamelioasly* Th» soldiers were equally unconscious of the nature and grandeoi
. XT.] ST. MARK, 663
of the transaction in which they were concerned ; they saw in it merely a very
common oeoarrence» an event of no importance, and of very partial and transient
interest. They were wholly imoonscions of the real nature of the transaction, oi
the infinite and enduring interest of the event. Little did they think, while they
sat down watching Him there, of the relation of what was passing before them to
all worlds and to all beings — to heaven, earth, hell— to God, to man, to angels, and
apostate spirits. Little did they think that they were witnessing the greatest act of
obedience to the Divine commands which God had ever received ; that the Divine
law was never so magnified. They were equally ignorant of the consequences which
would result from it. Ah I no ; while men Uve in opposition to God, they are
ignorant of the real nature of their conduct, and are altogether unprepared for the
consequences which must ensue. The responsibility increases, however, with the
means of information within onr reach. Ignorance, so far from excusing the
transgressions which grow out of it, may itself be exceedingly sinfuL All that they
did had been foreseen and foretold by some of the ancient seers ; the whole of their
conduct had been described by inspired men, who had looked at it through the vista
of ages; and every action of theirs, in connection with the crucifixion of Jesus,
was the fulfilment of some prediction ; but they knew it not. In this sense, too,
" they knew not what they did." This part of our subject suggests an important
reflection : it relates to the consistency between the free agency of man, and the
foreknowledge of God. (tT". J. Davies.) Stripped of HU raiment : — Tom Baird,
the carter, the beadle of my working-man's church, was as noble a fellow as ever
lived — God-fearing, true, xmselfish. I shall never forget what he said when I asked
him to stand at l^e door of the working-man's congregation, and when I thought
he was unwilling to do so in his working clothes. " If," said I, *♦ you don't Hke to
do it, Tom ; if you are ashamed " " Ashamed 1 " he exclaimed, as he turned
round upon me ; "I'm mair ashamed o' yersel', sir. Div ye think that I believe, as
ye ken I do, that Jesus Christ, who died for me, was stripped o' His raiment on the
cross, and tiiat I Na, na, I'm prood to stand at the door." Dear, good fellow I
There he stood for seven winters, without a sixpence of pay ; all from love, though
at my request the working congregation gave him a silver watch. When he was
dying from small pox, the same unselfish nature appeared. When asked if they
would let me know, he replied: "There's nae man leevin' I like as I do him. I
know he would come. But he shouldna' come on account of his wife and bairns,
and so ye maxmna' tell him 1 " I never saw him in his illness, never hearing of his
danger till it was too late. {Norman Macleod.) The hardened gamester : — There
was a profligate gamester, whose conversion was attempted by some honest monks,
and they in order to break his heart for sin, put into his hands a fine picture of the
crucifixion of Christ ; but when they inquired what he was studying so intently in
the picture, hoping his conversion was going forward, he replied, *' I was examining
whether the dice, with which the soldiers are casting lots for the garment, be like
ours." This man too well resembles bad men in the ceremonies of religion, and
their hearts guide their eyes to what nourish their vioes, not to what would destroy
them. (Robert Robimon.)
Yer. 25. AaA they crvLdAeA Eim.— The mytteru of eternity :—l% waa % death of
horror ; yet inflicted on Jesus, the Son of God, whose crime was mercy, whose
mission here was one of redeeming love. I. All the mvstebiss or human natubb
ABB HKBs. 1. Sin. 2. Freewill. 3. Judgment. After these things must there
not be some reckoning? II. The mtstbbiks or Dr?Dni bbvxlatxon. 1. God's
love. 2. God's meekness. 3. God's method of curing sin. By enduring its strokes
He shames and vanquishes transgression. III. Thb mybtebikb of salvation.
1. Atonement. 2. Reconciliation. In the cross our love meets God's love, and we
are reconciled. 3. A great inspiration. Ever since, the cross has been the pattern
on the mount which holy lives have copied, and it has inspired love and bacrifice
into countless hearts. IV. All mysteries op consolation. Had Chriit evaded
death, who would have dared to face it? He has changed Jordan's streams into
still waters, and its banks to green pastures. Death fixed its sting in Christ, and
left and lost it there. Thus Christ's cross is our Alpha and Omega, glowing with
law and gospel, comfort and restraint, power and peace ; it is the new Tree of life
in the midst of life's wilderness. {R. Glover.) Crucifixion of Christ:— L The
DBATH or CBuciTixioN. 1. Degrading. 2. Involving self-abasement on Christ's
part. 3. Conformity in will on ours. II. The place op obdcipixion. L Common
•xeoation-groand for felons and outlaws. A place of desolation and horror. 2.
864 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap. st»
We have to bear His reproach. III. The blindness of eatb. They did all in their
power against Him. Bat with what result ? 1. That was the salvation hour for
the whole world. 2. Jesus went into the realm of the dead, and revolutionized it,
opening the door of Satan's stronghold and setting the captives free. 8. He ha»
changed ihe aspect of death for ever — rolled away its sting. {F. B. Proctor^ M.A.}
Our part in ChrisV* crucifixion : — A traveller ascends a hiU : having reached the
summit and seen the view, he descends. As he descends he sees at the foot of the
hill a little cottage from which cries of lamentation proceed. He enters. He see*
the mangled form of a strong man surrounded by a weeping wife and children.
He sympathizes. He pities. But when, on inquiry, he learns that a stone rolling
down the hill put an end to that man's life, how different are his feelings — ^not
sympathy, but shame ; not pity, but anguish : for he remembers that he wilfully
(for there was a notice up, warning him) hurled a boulder down the hill-side for his
own gratification. (O. Calthrop, D.D.) Whitfield and the execution: — ^During
one of the visits which the Kev. George Whitfield paid to Edinburgh, an unhappy
man, who had forfeited his life to the offended laws of his country, was executed
in that neighbourhood. Whitfield mingled with che crowd that was collected on
the occasion, and was struck with the solemnity and decorum which were observ-
able at so awful a scene. His appearance, however, drew the eyes of all upon him,
and raised a variety of speculations as to the motives which had induced him to
join the crowd. The next day being Sunday, he preached to a very large con-
gregation in a field near the city ; and in the course of his sermon he adverted to
the event of the previous day. *• I know, said he, " that many of you will find it
difficult to reconcile my appearance yesterday with my character. Many of you, I
know, will say that my moments would have been better employed in praying for
the unhappy man, than in attending him to the fatal tree ; and that, perhaps,
curiosity was the only cause that converted me into a spectator on that occasion ;
but those who ascribe that uncharitable motive to me are mistaiken. I went as
an observer of human nature, and to see the effect that such an example would
have on those who witnessed it. I watched the conduct of those who were present
on that awful occasion, and I was highly pleased with their demeanour, which has
given me a very favourable opinion of the Scottish nation. Your sympathy was
visible on your countenances, particularly when the moment arrived that your un-
happy fellow-creature was to close his eyes on this world for ever ; and then yon
all, as if moved by one impulse, turned your heads aside and wept. Those teari
were precious, and will be held in remembrance. How different it was when th«
Saviour of mankind was extended on the cross I The Jews, instead of sympa-
thizing with the Divine Sufferer, gloried in His agony. They reviled Him with
bitter words, — ay, with words more bitter than the gall and vinegar which they
handed Him to drink. Not one, of all that witnessed His pains, turned his head
aside, even in the last pang. Yes, my friends, there was one ; that glorious
luminary," pointing to the sun, ** veiled his brightness, and travelled on his course
in tenfold night." Jesus crucified : — I. Why Christ was cbucified. The suffer-
ings of our Lord were not less because He was the Son of God. His was a Divine
sorrow. Natures most sensitive to all that is holy and true, most keenly aware of
all that is false, suffer sharpest torture when rudely invaded. These sufferings
came upon Him from the first. To John the Baptist He appeared as the Lamb of
God. Christ's sufferings were public and ignominious. It was in the broad, open
day, and in the most public place, that He was crucified. His most sacred suffer-
ings were made a public spectacle. It was a part of His degradation that He did
not suffer alone. Two wretched criminals from the city were crucified with Him.
For one moment He lost sight of His Father's face. In that hoar He was linked to
all that is worst and vilest in our common humanity. H. How Christ suffered.
Through it all He showed the faith of the Son of God—" My God." He suffered
as a kmg might suffer. HI. Why Christ suffered. He suffered in order that He
might obey the Father. •• He humbled Himself and became obedient unto death."
He suffered to make known the Father. ** He that hath seen Me hath seen the
Father." He suffered that men might be redeemed. {E. B. Maton.) The suffer-
iiigi< of Christ: — Our Lord's sufferings were inexpressibly great and exquisitely
painful. They may be said to have commenced at the very first, moment He came
in contact with our nature. He suffered in every possible way, and in every
possible degree. He suffered in His body and in His soul ; He suffered person-
ally, and He sulEered relatively. If we had been told that the Son of God was to
into oar world, and to save as by His sufferings, we naturally would have
. ST.] ST, MARK. 665
snpposed that He was to die, and if to die, that He would die in a state of glory —
If He were to fall, that He would fall in the field of war : and that, when He died,
BQs praises would be shouted by the whole world. But how differerit a lot was
assigned to the Saviour of sinners. Moreover, He suffered under the seal of the
eurse. Crucifixion was, among the Romans, the death awarded only to slaves, and
by the Jews it was held in execration. Bemember, too, that the influence of many,
•nd of various characters, contributed to our Lord's last sufferings. Here, above
«11 the rest, was to be seen the supreme hand of God allotting to Him the various
parts of His suffering, and overruling those who had an instrumental hand in
bringing it about. Then again, there are wonderful things to be seen in the
manner and circumstances of our Lord's crucifixion. We see here God with-
drawing, and yet God supporting ; the Redeemer sinking under His sufferings, and,
at the same time, rising triumphantly above them all. And, once more, we observe
in the last sufferings of Christ a remarkable accomplishment of the Word of God.
In Him all the ancient predictions of the Jewish prophets were fulfilled. So much
in relation to the history of the death and last sufferings of our Saviour. Let these
things be deeply impressed upon your minds. But beware of regarding them in
the mere light of history. You may be acquainted with all the historical facts re-
lating to our Lord's sufferings and death, and yet you may obtain no interest what-
ever in their benefits. They may float in your understanding without ever sinking
into your heart, or influencing your conduct. Yet the bare history, the minute
facts of the Saviour's hfe are of such importance that they ought to be known.
Traced in their connection one with another, they throw a flood of light over the
Bible. (Thos, McCrie^ D.D.) Lessons at the cross : — I. We may learn something
from the fact that our Lord was actually put to death like an ordinary criminal.
All of the evangelists call attention to the circumstance of Christ's having been
associated with two malefactors crucified at the same moment. Thus Pilate makes
the two robbers intensify Jesus' shame in the eyes of the multitude. Each one
of the common people who saw the sad spectacle, would inevitably draw the con-
clusion that Christ was the chief malefactor of them all. The terrible humiliation
of the death which our Saviour suffered is thus made apparent. But the power of
this scene is, singularly enough, deepened by this very particular. We call to
mind as an illustration of such a statement the tale of Colonel Gardiner's con-
version,— a tale so remarkable that it has remained historic for more than a
hundred and fifty years. He was a gay miUtary man, without any virtues to com-
mend him, licentious, profane, and intemperate. One Sabbath evening he had been
earousing in company with some roystering comrades; late at night he retired
to his chamber. There his eye accidentally lighted upon a book entitled "The
Christian Soldier ; or, Heaven taken by storm." He took it up to ridicule it, but
fell asleep while it lay in his hand. He dreamed : he thought he saw a prodigious
blaze of light shining upon the volume; raising his eyes to know what was so
suddenly bright overhead, he saw suspended in the air a vivid representation
of the Lord Jesus Christ upon the cross ; distinctly then he heard some one
saying, " This I did for thee ; what hast thoa done for Met ** Struck to the very
depth of his conscience, he was wakened instantly; at onoe, filled with con-
trition, as a sinner he sought peace and found pardon for his soul. II. We
may learn, also, something from the record that this form of death was a ful-
filment of prophecy. Mark says that when Jesus was «* numbered with trans-
gressors,'* the scripture " was fulfilled." HI. We may learn, onoe more, something
from the account given of the taunts which oor Lord received. It would appear
that all sorts of people joined in this sarcasm. The passers-by " railed," the rulers
•♦ derided," the soldiers ** mocked ; " even the thieves " reviled " Him. The utmost
ingenuity m invention of jibes and epithets seemed to grow in demand that
awful morning. The lesson here is plain ; the patience of our Lord is simply
wonderful. How He could bear all this contumely and reproach passes under-
standing. rV. In like manner, we may learn something from the sudden dark-
ness which Jesus endured on that day. This darkness is to be understood as
symbolical of Gk>d'8 horror of sin even when borne vicariously by an innocent
Christ. How an impenitent man ean hope to have audience with his Maker, so
as to implore and obtain pardon, when even Christ was left in the darkness nn-
pitied, passes all comprehension. V. We may likewise learn something from the
grief of our blessed Lord when He found Himself deserted. VI. We may learn
something, also, from our Lord's rejection of the draught proffered for His relief.
What an example of self-sacrificing fidelity there is here for as 1 How little oourags
666 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap. »▼.
we have when our day of trial comes on 1 Jesus had always been the embodiment
and pattern of dutifiilness and affection in His Father's sight ; He was not going
to shirk and shrink and fail now. He told His disciples once in simple sincerity
just what was His purpose : ** I can of mine own self do nothing : as I hear, I
judge ; and My judgment is just ; because I seek not Mine own will, but the will
of the Father which hath sent Me." VII. Finally, we may learn something from
the cry which our Lord uttered as His " great voice " at the last. It was really a
shout — a shout of triumph. There is great significance in the fact that not one of
the inspired biographers says Jesus died ; they all agree in an unusual form of
speech which preserves the notion of His entire voluntariness in the surrender He
made to death's power. He " yielded " His soul, He " gave up" His breath— such
are the expressions ; but the adversary did not gain the victory : it was Death that
died in the conflict. What this cry was is told us in the Gospel of John — *• It is
finished 1" His entire work was done. The Lord standeth sure now for the
believer. It is recorded of a dying minister, one of the faithfullest of modem
times, that in his last hour his son asked him, " Father, are you comfortable now?"
And he answered, ** Certainly : why not? for I lie most comfortably resting upon
the finished work of my Lord Jesus Christ." {G. S. Robinson.)
Ver. 26. ni« King of the Jews. — Jesus mocked and crueified : — Jesus suffered
and died under the forms of law. His execution was the result of a six-fold trial —
three trials at the hands of the Jews, and three at the hands of the Romans. When
Jesus was led to Golgotha bearing His cross, He had stood at the focal point of the
world's best light and been pronounced guilty of death. For what offence ? Pilate,
as the custom was, with his own hand wrote the charge. " And the superscription
of His accusation was written over, • The King of the Jews.* " L The words or
THE SUPERSCRIPTION coBRECTLT EXPRESS WHAT Jesus cLAisiEB. He was Condemned,
not so much upon the testimony of the non-agreeing witnesses, as upon His own
admission of this. He maintained it to the last. No terror from the sight of the
cross could make Him withdraw the claim. He died resolutely claiming that He
was King. II. The words of the supebscription indicate the claim Christ maxm
TO-DAY. Eighteen centuries have not dimmed the title Pilate wrote. As decisively
now as then He stands at every court, at every public and private tribunal, at Uie
door of every man's heart, at every turn in our journey, before every thought of our
mind, every choice of our will, every act of our life, and says, ♦* I am King." If He
be indeed King, His offices and attributes are kingly, and He has the right to
demand that no one dim the lustre of His crown, or weaken the sway of His sceptre.
It is sometimes said that it matters little what place we assign to Christ, or with
what attributes we clothe Him, so that life is only upright, and our conduct such as
He would not condemn. At His trial before the Jewish and Boman Courts il
mattered much what place was allotted Him and what title He should be allowed to
bear. He died rather than disown His royal title. Is He less mindful of it now in His
exalted glory, and less regardful of those attributes which rightfully constitute His
regal claim ? If He be a King, His is the right to hold the name and place thereof.
Who shall dare to put forth the hand and pluck one jewel from His diadem of
omnipotence, or efface one ray from His halo of infinite wisdom ? HI. The words
OF THE SUPERSCRIPTION INDICATE WHT 80 MANY NOW REJECT ChRIST. BeoaUSO He
asserts kingly authority— the right to rule, and to control men's hearts and lives.
Men exalt the compassion of Jesus ; they praise His teachings ; they laud the good
deeds with which His life was full ; they extol the lustre of His example ; but when
asked if they have placed within their heart a throne on which He may sit and
reign, they falter. The title they apply to Him is burden-bearer rather than law-
maker, benefactor rather than king, counsellor rather than judge, one to admire
and extol rather than obey. IV. The words of the superscription indicate in what
WAY Christ is now to be received. As the world's Redeemer Christ fulfils the three-
fold office of Prophet, Priest, and King. To accept EQm as the first is to beUeve and
adopt His teachings ; as the second, to rely for pardon and approach to God upon
His atonement and intercession ; as the third, to add to the others a surrender of
the will to Him in loyalty and love, to instal Him as ruler of our hearts and lives.
We thus receive Him* as our Saviour and Lord ; we at once believe in Him and snb-
mit to Him ; we ask Him to both pardon us and control us ; and while He justifies
He takes ns, with our cordial consent, into His own care for the direction and
government of oar life both here and hereafter. Henceforth the thought thftt
Christ is King is welcome. A place is gladly made in the heart for His throne to
SHAP. X?.] 8T. MARK, 667
stand immatably. He it snpreme. His will is law. (P. B, DavU.\ ChrUt the
King of kings .-—Wben Mr. Dawson was preaching in South Lambetn on the offices
of Christ, he presented Him as Prophet and Priest, and then as the Eong of saints.
He marshalled patriarchs, kings, prophets and apostles, martyrs and confessors of
every age and clime, to place the insignia of royalty upon the head of the King of
kings. The audience was wrought up to the highest pitch of excitement, and, as if
waiting to hear the anthem peal out the coronation hymn, the preacher commenced
iinging " All hail the power of Jesus' Name." The audience, rising as one man,
Bang the hymn as perhaps it was never sung before. {Fo»ter'» Cyclopcedia.)
Ver. S7. And with him they erncUy two thieves.— TA« malefacton : — We pro-
pose to advert to thb fact that Jesus endured His last agonies between two
liALEVACTOBS *, and then to notice the bespectivb chabactebs of His companions in
■UFFBEXNO. I. Let US behold this strange sight : Jesus suffsbinq, dying between
TWO UALEFAOTOBB 1 What an amazing spectacle I And it may have been without
any specific design on the part of his oppressors that He was crucified in the midst,
raUier than on either side of His companions in suffering. But whether it was
designed by His enemies or not, there can be no doubt that this circumstance consti*
tnted a part of our Lord's humiliation. A pre-eminence was thus assigned Him in
ignominy and shame. This circumstance affords a striking fulfilment of prophecy ;
ti^en was aooomphshed the declaration of the prophet, " He was numbered with the
transgressors :" and not only so, but it is also illustrative of the prophetic Scrip-
tures, as it shows how, without any design whatever, and sometimes with the very
opposite design, men may be fulfilling God's purposes, and accomplishing the pre-
dictions of His Word. That strange spectacle suggests the remark, how closely men
may be allied by oiroumstanoes — how completely identified as to tiieir lot on earth
— between whom there is no resemblance in real character. Here are three persons
suffering at the same time, and in the same place, the same omel and ignominious
death, and yet how perfectly dissimilar in point of character I Ontwar(Uy their lot
is the same ; but inwardly there is not the slightest resemblance between them.
Heaven, eartii, and hell, are brought into closest contact in the persons of those
three sufferers. In the elevated character of Jesns we have all that is highest,
purest, best in heaven ; in the obduracy, the prof aneness, and the impiety of one of
the malefactors, we have the most striking characteristic of the lost, who are
hardened in sin beyond the possibility of repentance ; while in the contrition and
prayerfulness of the other, we have what is peculiar to the good on earth. Often
may the best and the worst be found in close connection here, sitting at tiie same
able, or suffering on the same scaffold. How clearly does this indicate another
state of being I Under the government of one infinitely wise and just, as well as
almighty, such disorders cannot be final ; there surely must come a time of separa-
tion, of adjustment ! H. We now proceed to consider thx chabaoteb of the
MALEFACTOBS WHO 8UFFSBED WITH ouB LoBD. Wc havc already intimated, that they
differed essentially from each other ; we must, therefore, consider them separately.
And, first, of the impenitent ualefactob. The treatment which our Lord received
at his hands is remarkable, and deserves our attention. He reviled the Redeemer,
even on the cross. The conduct of this wretched man, in reviling the Bedeemer on
the cross, not only illustrates the power of example, but it is further instructive, as
showing how near death a man may be, and yet how far from thinking seriously of
any of the consequences of dying ; how far from any reflections suited to his solemn
position and prospects ! How strikingly does this illustrate the folly of deferring
to a dying hour, Uie all-important work of preparation for an eternal world I Men
often speak of the penitent thief, and expect, like him, in their last moments, to
find repentance unto life ; but they rarely think of his companion who died un-
changed ; and yet it is to be feared he is the representative of a far larger class than
the other. Let us turn to a more pleasing theme — the spibtt and conduct of the
PENITENT thief ; In which there is much that is extraordinary, and deserving of
our best attention. We may notice his deep sense of the solemnity of his situation.
" He feared God," into whose immediate presence he was so soon to enter. Nothing
can operate so nowerf uUy, so constantly, in deterring from evil, and in imparting to
the eharaoter the highest elevation and purity ; and those who do not realize this
are exposed to every breath of temptation, and are guilty of neglecting their noblest
and b^t interests. We notice, also, the free and spontaneous acknowledgment of
his goilt. He felt And confessed that he and his companion deserved to die, and
that tb^ were Joftly exposed to the displeasure of God—** We, indaad, joitly ; for
566 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chat. xt.
we receive the due reward of oar deeds.** How deep seemed to be his conviction ol
sin and demerit ; and how free and fall his acknowledgment of it ! What a toaoh-
ing illastration we have here of the distingaishing grace of God I The two male-
factors who soflered with cor Lord were probably condemned for the same o£Fence.
They had been associates in sin, and now they were companions in shame, and
suffering, and death ; and yet, how the one is made to differ from the other ! And
this leads me to notice his knowledge of the character of Christ. '* This man has
done nothing amiss." Whence he derived his knowledge of the character of the
Redeemer, it were in vain to inquire. It is not impossible that, in former days, he
may have heard Jesus preach, and may have witnessed some of His stupendoas
miracles ol power and of mercy. It is not improbable that, while on his way to the
cross, and while hanging on it, he heard much of Jesus ; for while the multitude
reviled and reproached Him, there were some amongst them who ber-ailed and
lamented "Frim ; and these, doubtless, spoke of His worth ; and it is certain that he
that day saw much of the spirit and conduct of the Bedeemer, as well as of Hia
enemies ; and no man^could observe the oondnct of Jesus with an impartial mind,
without being convinced that He was a righteous person. Still more remarkable il
the persuasion which he entertained and expressed of the dominion and spiritual
power of the Redeemer : *• Lord, remember me when Thoa comest into Thy king-
dom." Strange that he could recognize a king in one whose environment was so
humiliating. I cannot but remark, finally, his deep humility, which appears in his
throwing himself so unreservedly on the compassion and grace of the Saviour.
" Lord, remember me when Thoa comest into Thy kingdom." There is no pre-
sumption, no dictation, here. There is nothing of the Spirit of the two disciples
who prayed that they might sit, the one on His right hand and the other on His
left, in His kingdom ; but there is the deep humility which is always oharacteristi«
of genoine repentance. (J. /. Davies.)
Vers. 31, 32. Ltt Christ, the King of Israel, now descend from tho erosa. —
A glorious reproach : — In the Divinest sense He could not save Himself. Physically,
of course. He could have delivered Himself , **come down from the cross," and over-
whelmed His enemies with destruction. But morally He could not, and His moral
weakness here is His glory. He could not because He had promised to die, and
He could not break His word. He could not, because the salvation of the world
depended upon His death. The greatest man on earth is the man who
cannot be unkind, who cannot tell a falsehood, who cannot do a dishonourable act
or be guilty of a mean, selfish deed. The glory of the omnipotent God is, that
'<He cannot lie." These men, therefore, should have honoured the wea^ess
that they acknowledged; adored it. Their very confession condemns their
conduct. {Eomilist.) The heroism of the crucified .-—The testimony of an enemy
is always valuable. What is it that they testify? First, that "He saved
others : " and second, that in order to save others — nay, they testify not that, yet it
is implied in the assertion they make — ^in order to save others He was content not
to save Himself. Perhaps there never was a sentence, that was in one sense so
radically false, and in another sense so sublimely true, as this particular sentence.
Take it in the abstract, and it contains a most outrageous and glaring falsehood.
There was not a moment from beginning to end of His human career in which our
blessed Lord might not have turned back from shame and suffering. Yet while
these words are false absolutely, they are none the less true relatively. Relatively
to the work which our blessed Lord had undertaken, it was necessary that He Him-
self shotdd not be saved. Because He was the Son, there was a certain blessed,
constraining influence which rendered it, in one sense, necessary that He should go
forward : but the necessity was not imposed upon Him from without, but accepted
from within. It was the necessity of love ; love, first and foremost to His Father,
and then love to thee and to me. When you look over His history, how much there
was to lead Him to exercise this power which all along He possessed. How natural
it would have been if He had done so. He has scarcely come into the world before
He begins to meet with the world's bad treatment. When He was bom, they had
no room for TTiwi in the inn. Would it not have been most natural if our blessed
Lord had even then thought better of it. *' These rebel sinners, these thoughtless
beings, I have come into the world to save — they have not even a place whereon to
lay My infant form." As He grew up to be a young man, ** He eame onto His own : **
His very brethren did not believe in Him. When He found that there was oold
incredulity, an absence of sympathy in His own family circle, ought He not i
^aur. !▼.} ST, MARK, 869
mbly have been expected to ^sy, '* Ah, well 1 this ia not what I expected : I thonght
I shoald have been received with open arms ; that every heart would have been full
of Bympathizing tenderness towards Me : but they have nothing but hard thoughts
to think, and hard sayings to say of Me. Let them alone : from this time I give up
the task: it is a hopeless one." We read "that He was in the world, and the
world was made by Kim, and the world knew Him not." How wonderful a thing
it was that Jesus Christ should have stood all this, and yet continued true to His
purpose still. They laid the cross upon Him, and He faints on the way to Calvary.
O, Son of God 1 Thy body has fainted 1 Weakness has done its work 1 Surely Thou
wouldest be justified in giving in now 1 He might reasonably have said, ** Flesh
And blood will bear no more ; My physical strength has absolutely yielded under the
terrible shock ; I can carry it no further." But no, no. He may faint ; but He
will not yield. Is it not wonderful? What made Him stand to His purpose 7 What
gave Him that strange stability? Well, I can only say, " He loved us." Why He
loved us, I do not know ; but He loved us, and He loves us still ; and it is because
He loved us that "He saved others; Himself He could not save." But we are
only sUmming the surface. We must endeavour, if we can, to go deeper than this.
There is a mystery of sorrow here. If we are to understand what is transpiring on
yonder cross, we must endeavour to look within the veil ; we must try to see things
«s God saw them. Yet it is an awful thing to think of that world descending in that
gradually lowering scale into the very jaws of darkness and death. Where are we
to find the hero of humanity ? Who shall fight our battle for us ? Who shall avail
to lift that sinking world from the very depth of doom into which it is disappear-
ing ? No angel in heaven can do it. There is only One who can do it, and there
is only one way in which He can do it. By a sovereign effort of His own will, Christ
might have called a new world into existence; He might have blasted this world
with judgment, and caused it to disappear altogether ; but in doing so He would
have been stultifying — shall I say ? — His own designs ; He would have been with-
drawing from His own eternal purposes of mercy and love. Nay, nay ; the ruinous
world must be saved — How is it to be done ? The Son of the Father's bosom steps
Into that ascending scale. Now look 1 He does it voluntarily. " I lay down My
life," He says ; " no man taketh it from Me ; I give it ; for it was His own free gift
for man, for you, for me. What means this strange sense of desolation ! Through
«11 His human life, there was one thing that had sustained Him, one joy that had
«ver been present to Him. It was the joy of His Father's presence. He had lived
in the light of His countenance. He bad refreshed Himself with His fellowship.
**He had drank of the brook by the way, and therefore He lifted up His head." But
lo I the brook by the way seems to be dried np. It was no mere natural thirst that
parched Emmanuel. That outward thirst was but the indication, the type, the
symbol, of the inward thirst which burned within His soul. What means this
strange sense of desolation r What is it f Is it the loss of human friends ? No ;
something more than that. That is bad enough to bear ; but it is something more
than that. What is it 7 For the first time in His human hfe He finds Himself
«lone. The light is eclipsed ; the sun has disappeared from His heaven, and the
joj of existence is gone. He gazes round and round— east, and west, and north,
«nd south. What is it ? It is but a little matter that the outward sun was eclipsed ;
bat there was a dread eolipse had taken place within the soul of Emmanuel, of
which that outward darkness was but the type. What was it ? Wherever sin goes
it brings its own deadly shame of everlasting night along with it. And because He
had taken the burden of the world's sin upon Him, therefore the shadows of night
were resting npon Him now. One shrinks from following out these words, yet one
ean fancy — and it is no mere fancy — what must have passed through His heart.
** I oould have borne that My own people should treat Me thus : I could have borne
that My own disciple should betray Me for thirty pence : I might have borne that
Simon Peter should deny me with oaths and curses: I might have borne the out-
ward pain, the bodily anguish : but O, My God, My God, Thy smile has been my
tight : Thy presence has been My joy. What have I done r How comes it to pass
that instead of fellowship I have desolation ; instead of Thy joyful company. Thy
blessed society, I have this awful sense of loneliness ? What is it ? What means
it ? " "My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me ? " What did it all mean ? It meant
that " He saved others : " and because " He saved others. Himself He could not
save:" and so the scale that bore the Christ descended into the deepest darkness,
and the scale that bore a ruined world began to rise, and to rise. Lo 1 the gloom is
Mttled on that, and the sunlight on this : that, is sinking down into the darkness ol
670 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. «?.
3eath ; this, ii rising into the glories of life. The angels are veiling their faces in
horror as they behold the Son of God disappear beneath the oload : l^e sons of
God are shouting in triumph as they behold a ransomed world rising into the very
sunlight of the Divme smile, the curse revoked, the doom recalled, the gates of
everlasting life opened to a ruined world. So He carried it through, — that won-
derf ul enterprise — through to the bitter end : and so He drank the cup to the last
drop, and He paid the ransom to the last penny, sinner, for thee, and for me.
I Wi<.nt to ask you, Have you accepted that which He has purchased at such a price f
What is it that renders sin inexcusable ? Just this glorious fact we are gazing at.
Your condemnation, my friend, lies in this : that at the cost of such indescribable
Hgony as we shall never know, until we get to the other side : and not even then, —
Christ has bought everlasting life for you, and you have refused to accept it. To-
night, that pierced hand seems to hold it out for you. It seems as though He
pleaded with vou ; as if He were saying, " Now, my dear brother, I have saved, not
Myself, that I might save thee: I turned not my face from shame and spitting, that
thy face might be irradiated with Divine glory : I wore that crown of thorns that
thou mightest wear the crown of glory : I carried that cross that thou mightest sway
the sceptre: I hung in agony that thou mightest sit in triumph: I fathomed the
depth that thou mightest rise to the height. Men ! do yon think there is anything
manly in trampling such love as that under your feet ? Women 1 do you think
there is anything womanhke in turning your back npon such love as that?
Ob, let us be ashamed of ourselves to-night, that we have sinned against that love
so long ! {W, H. Aitken, M.A.) The demand of $inner$ unreasonable : — These
words are a demand that He would prove His claims to the Messiahship by coming
down from the cross, and a promise that, if He would do this, they would receive
Him as the Messiah. It strikes us at once that this demand is tmreasonable, even
to effrontery. I, You make demands which are unbeasonable, because coMPiiiANCB
WITH THEM WOULD DEFEAT THE DiVINE PLAN OF REDEMPTION. This WaS One charac-
teristic of the unreasonable demand of the Pharisees. If Christ had come down
from the cross, the work of redemption would never have been finished. Similar
demands are often made by ungodly men— demands that Christ would come down
from the cross — ^that He would save them in some other way than by His atoning
sacrifice, and His blood. II. Youb demands abb unbeasonable, because yov
CBEATE T0UE8ELVBS THE VEBY DIFFICULTIES WHICH YOU CLAIM TO HAVE REMOVED. JcSUS
was moving among the Jews, working the most convincing miracles. They seized
Him, and nailed Him to the cross : then they demanded that He should undo what
their own maUce had done — " Come down from the cross, and we will believe." A
similar unreasonableness belongs to many of your demands. Is it not your own
hand that has plunged your soul into this flood of worldliness, Ac. 7 With what
reason can you urge, as your apology for inaction, the chains which your own hands
have fastened on your souls? III. Demands abe unbeasonable which bequibb
additional evidence of the IMPOBTANCB of BELiaiON, WHEN SUFFICIENT HAS BEEN
ALREADY GIVEN. Unrcasonableness of this kind characterized the demand of the
Pharisees. They had seen the Saviour's miracles, &o. It was unreasonable in them
to propose that, if a single miracle should be added to the multitude already given,
they would be ready to receive Jesus as the Christ. Precisely similar is the unrea-
sonableness of many of your demands. You say, " If I had lived in Christ's day,
and had seen His miracles, I should have been ^s disciple. Other demands exhibit
the same unreasonableness. The reason most commonly given for indifference to
religion, is the inconsistency of professors. I presume everyone of you knows some
whom he acknowledges as real Christians. You are no stranger to these triumphs
of the cross, to these demonstrations of its Divine power. And yet you plead that,
because A, B, and C do not live consistently with their profession, you will neglect
religion, and treat it as if it were a worthless imposture. Similar are all the reasons
for neglecting religion, founded on its mysteries. If men never engaged in worldly
business till all who engage in it manage it wisely, honestly, and successfully ; if
they never acted except on certainty — never acted till everything dark was cleared
up, and every objection removed, they would never act at all. IV. Ix X8 unbeasoh-
ABLE TO DEMAND MOBE, WHEN GOD HAS ALBEADY DONE SO MUCH IN TOUB BEHALF, ES-
PECIALLY WHEN TOU HAVB NOT MADE IMPBOVEMENT OF WHAT Hb HAS DONE. Th«
Jews might have known, from the ancient prophecies, that Christ was to suffer an
ignominious death. It was unreasonable. V, Youb demands are unreasonable,
BECAUSE God has PBOTED it by TESTING THEM. YoU HAVE MADE SIMILAB DEMANDS
BRFOBx; God bab condzsobndbd to ooxflt with thbh, and txt yov did sot,
BBAP. IT.]
ST. MARK, •'^l
STBK THEN, KEEP THE PBOWiEB YOU HAD MADE. Time and again had the Pharisees
S™d Jesui to give them a sign that they might see and beheve. Signs He had
riven them, t^e most stupendous and convincing; yet they were not more ready to
Sleive Hiii than before. And even when He rose from the dead, they stiU rejected
Him VI. YOUB DBMANDB ABB UNBEASONABLE, BECAUSE, IN THE VEBY ACT OF MAX^G
THEM TOU ADMIT WHAT JUSTITIES YOUB CONDEMNATION. . Th^ PhMlSeeS Said, He
B^ed Others " They admitted that He had wrought miracles. Thus, by the very
justification which they attempted, they condemned themselves ?/> ^V« ^*?, JJ"'
Whatever reason yoa may give for neglecting rehgion, you admit its Divine auttio-
ritv its reality, and importance. " Out of thine own mouth wiU I judge thee, thou
wicked servant" VII. Youb demands and apologies abe unbeasonabuc, because
THEY LAY THB BLAME OF YOUB CONTINUED IMPENITENCE ON GOD. (S. HarrX$.)
The sight of the Saviour's suffering .—Do you not know that this simple story of a
Savioi^'s kindness is to redeem aU nations? The hard heart of this world s obduracy
is to be broken before that story. There is in Antwerp Belgium, one of the mos
remarkable pictures I ever saw. It is " The Descent of Christ from the Cross." It
IbZ of Rubens' pictures. No man canBtand and look at tj^at,' Descent from ^e
OroBfl." as Rubens pictured it, without having his eyes flooded wi h tears if he have
any sinsibility at all. It is an overmastering picture-one that ^^^^ y°^' ^^^ stag-
ge^ Tou, and haunts your dreams. One afternoon a man stood in that cathe^al
Kg it Reubens' "Descent from the Cross." , He was all absorbed m that scene
of a Saviour's sufferings when the janitor came in and said : « It is time to close up
Se <»?hXal for the night. I wish yon would depart.'' The pilgrim lo^^g at
that "Descent from the Cross." turned around to the jamtor and «a»d: "No, no
not yet. Wait until they get Him down." O, it is the story of a Saviour'8 suftermg
kindfift*"* that is to capture the world; {Dr, TaJmage.)
Ver. 88. There was dartaiess over the whole land.-.r^ three hours' ^w w~
What a call must that mid-day midnight have been to the careless I They knew
not that the Son of God was among them ; nor that He was working ont human
rSemption. The grandest hour in all history seemed hkely to pass by Reeded
Xn suddenly night hastened from her chambers and usurped the day. Every one
TeSS Idfl fellow, "What means this darkness f " Business stood still : the plough
Bta^d i^rdd fJrrow, and the axe paused uplifted. There was a halt m the caravan
ofUfe. Men were stirtled, and hushed into silence. I. Let us view this dabkness
AS A MiBACLE WHICH AMAZES US. Abundant reason for a miracle at tins time The
nnnsnal in lower nature is made to consort with the unusual in the deahngs o
nature's Lord, The sun darkened at noon is a fit accompaniment of the death of
JesuB. XL Let us beoabd this dabkness as a veil which conceals. 1. A conce^-
m^nt for guilty enemiea. 9. A sacred concealment for the blessed Person of our
Divine Lord. The angels found for their King a pavilion of thick clouds, in the
wWohffiB Majesty might be sheltered in its hour of misery. 3. The Passion is a
Treat myBtery; into which we cannot pry. 4. The powers of darkness will always
ffivour t^ionceal the cross of Christ. III. Let us co««°>?V°f.hfrmP time'
SYMBOL WHICH INSTRUCTS. The veU fslls dowH sud couceals J l^?V*V^f.rf« ron
as an emblem it reveals. 1. It is the symbol of the wrath of God which fell on
JhoBe who Blew His only.begotten son. 2. It tells us what our Lord Jesus Chnst
Buffered. 8. It shows us what it was that Jesus was battling with-darkness. IV.
A PB^icTiCAL DISPLAY OF SYMPATHY. 1. All lights are dim when Christ shines not^
2. See the dependence of all creation on Chnst. «• Hi^Jit' Sl^^^ll^^n^^m^
Z. tiee tne aepenaenoe oi an oronwuu uu v/**-..--. -.*.---— ,
from the thought that Jesus also was once there. Feel after Him. Lean on Him^
He will hold you up. (C. H, Spurgeon.) Total eclipse of the sun :— A pious
astronomer, in deBonbing an eoUpse which he witnessed in Norway, says: I
itched th; instantaneous extinction of light, and saw the glorious scene on which
I had been gazing turned into darkness. All the horizon seemed to speak of tenrw.
I had been gazmg turnea mw aarKnesB. ^i fcuo iiuw*.wi^ u^^^^^ ir^u-rv, - .to^-o
death, and judgment; and overhead Bat, not the clear flood of ight which a starry
night sends do^. but there hung over me dark and leaden blackness^hich seemed
as if it would crush me into the earth. And as I beheld it I thought, How miserable
is the soul to whom Christ is eclipsed I The thought was answered by a voice ; for
a fierce and powerful sea-bird which had been swooping around us, apparently
infuriated at our intrusion on its domain, poured out a scream of despwnng agony
when it was surprised in the darkness." What, then, will be the fearful surprise
when the lost soul finds itself in that worid" where hope, withermg, flees, and
mercy sighs, Farewell I " {Chrutian Age.)
C7S THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [OHAF. lib
Ver. 84. My Ood, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me I^Forsaken of Ood ;--
One thing we know, He was alone ; He had reached the climax of that loneliness in
which His whole earthly work had been carried on. It is hardly possible for us to
understand the nature of the solitude of the life of Christ. " It was not the solitude
of the hermit or monk ; He ever lived among his fellow-men ; not the solitude of
pride, sullenly refusing all sympathy and aid; not the solitude of selfishaess,
creating around its icy centre a cold, bleak, barren wilderness ; not the solitude of
sickly sentimentality, for ever crying out that it can find no one to understand or
appreciate ; but the solitude of a pure, holy, heavenly spirit, into all whose deeper
thoughts there was not a single human being near Him, or around Him, who could
enter ; with all whose deeper feelings there was not one who could sympathize ;
whose truest, deepest motives, ends, and objects, in living and dying as He did, not
one could comprehend. Spiritually, and all throughout, the loneliest man that ever
lived was Jesus Christ." (Hanna.) Yet there were times when this loneliness
deepened on His soul. Again and again, when in this place or that, •* He came
unto His own, and His own received Him not." But one other stage was reached
of yet more utter solitude when, in the darkness of that most mysterious noonday
that veiled the scene of Calvary, and in the grosser darkness of unfathomable
anguish that enveloped the human soul of Jesus, He trod the winepress of the
wrath and justice of God alone, and entered that last stage of solitude in which He
could no longer say, " I am not alone, because the Father is with Me," but uttered
that bitter cry — a cry from the darkest, deepest, dreariest loneliness into which a
pure and holy spirit ever passed—" My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken
Me? " We may in reverence consider three causes which seem to have produced
this element of the Sacred Passion. The first cause of this awful desolation was
the fact of the accumulated sin of the whole world, from the disobedience of Eden
down to the last intention of sin that shall be disturbed by the archangel's trumpet,
resting upon one Human Soul, to whom the faintest shadow of sin was intolerable.
The second cause was the gathering of the hosts of darkness, vanquished in the
wilderness, and in the garden, and in many of the souls they had possessed, but
now, rallied and marshalled, and massed for one last supreme effort, hurling them-
selves with the fury of despair and hate upon their Vanquisher. The third cause
was the hiding of the Father's face. He who is of purer eyes than to behold
iniquity could not look even upon His beloved Son, when deluged thus in our sin.
Beloved, out of the depths of this most bitter woe of the passion of Jesus there
comes some solid comfort for us. He endured that utter loneliness that we might
never be alone. {Henry S. Miles, M.A.) Eclipse of the face of God; — The
black miphitic cloud of a world's sin came between God and Christ. Neces-
sarily there was an eclipse of the face of God. An eclipse of the sun is caused,
as you are all aware, by that opaque body the moon coming between the earth
and it. That preternatural darkness of which we read in the preceding verse,
was caused by some thick veil of sulphureous clouds being drawn across the face of
the sun — the sun veiling his face, that he might not witness the perpetration of the
blackest crime ever perpetrated on even our sin-cursed earth — a crime that made
even incarnate nature shudder to its innermost core. So when this opaque body
of our sins came between Christ and God, when that dark sulphureous cloud of a
world's sins enwrapped the being of Christ like some great funereal pall, necessarily
there was an eclipse of the loving face of God, who is light. Necessarily there was, on
the part of Christ, spiritual darkness, and desertion, and loneliness — a darkness,
and desertion, and loneliness which found expression in the wailing cry, *• My God,
My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me ? " [J. Black.) The preienee of God the
Bupport of the martyr* ;— What was it that enabled Ignatius, waiting to be thrown
to the lions, to say— "Let me be food for the wild beasts, if only God be glorified ; **
that enabled the aged Polycarp, the flames lapping his body, to cry — " I thank Thee,
O Father, that Thou hast numbered me among the martyrs;" that enabled
Latimer, under the same circumstances, to say — "Be of good cheer, Brother
Bidley " — What but the feeling of His nearness to them ; the thought of His
approving smile ; and that though they were hated and persecuted by men, they
were not forsaken of God. But Christ, in His hour of deepest need— He is robbed
of that all and alone sufficient help. When He most needs the presence of God,
just then God forsakes Him. Friends ! we are here brought face to face with a
great mystery. Christ Himself feels that. His words, if they mean anything,
mean that. " My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me? " {Ibid,) Tht
cry of the forsaken one :—l. And first, let us not forget that xius cax waii a VaM
CHAP. X?0 ^^' ^^^^ ^'^
PUT INTO OLD TESTAMENT W0BD8. To be perfectly fair in maj consideration of
the phase of anguish expressed by them, we must look to the twenty-second Psalm,
where the words first of all occur. Let us read a verse or two of the Psalm. Take
vers. 7, 8, ** All they that see me laugh me to scorn : they shoot out the lip, they
shake the head, saying, He trusted on the Lord that He would deliver him : let Him
deliver him, seeing he delighted in Him; " almost the very cry of the railing passers by
Terse sixteen is yet more remarkable in its application : *• They pierced my hands
and my feet." Equally so is the eighteenth verse : ** They part my garments among
them, and cast lots upon my vesture." If the Psalm had been written after the
occun-ences of that day, it might almost have been given as an historical record of
them in these particulars. But I want you to think of the possibility— nay, extreme
probability — that while our Lord's mind in that dark hour rested upon these por-
tions of the Psalm, it would also recall other portions of it. For mark how from
the cry of the twenty-first verse there arises a strong hope : •• Save me from the
lion's mouth : for thou hast heard me from the horns of the unicorns. I will
declare Thy name unto my brethren : in the midst of the congregation will I praise
Thee." From these words forth there is no longer any sense of desolation. " For
He bath not despised nor abhorred the aflliction of the afidicted ; neither hath He
hid His face from him ; but when he cried unto Him, He heard." Now, I say, we
ought to remember this in our endeavour to interpret the cry. Heavy enough
indeed, with all the suffering it involved, was the hand of God that day as it rested
upon liie patient Sufferer; and life was ebbing out even while the cry came forth.
And yet surely the blessed Saviour was not long bereft of consolation. Did He
cling only to the first cry of the Psalm ? Was this all ? Was there no mounting
aloft into the blessed heights of faith and of hope and of praise ? I would believe
there was ; and this, though it may not deprive the scene of all its mysteriousness,
helps me somewhat to apprehend its significance, which, as I have already inti-
mated, is about all I thought we could attempt to do— all we purposed to attempt.
n. Next, we will view the words as the bbvelation op a obbat anguish. And yet,
when we began to think a little more about this, Christ's sense of utter desertion
and loneliness, in the light especially of His relation to our race as its true head
and High Priest ; we should find ourselves ready to admit some sort of a congruous-
ness in the fact. For we know that this experience, a sense of God-desertion, is
one of the most real of men's troubles. And there seems a fitness in the ordina-
tion of the Redemptive scheme which allows a place for this sense of God-desertion
in those sufferings by which that Redemption was secured and ratified. So far as
we have any knowledge of Christ's inner experience during the years before, we
fail to discern any trace of this God- desertion. On the contrary, it was the one
sweetness and light of His life, even when He thought and told of the coming
desertion of His chosen ones, that still amid all circumstances the Father was with
Him. It was not always so in the case of the Old Testament saints and worthies.
They had, as we have, intervals, when the clear shining of the Divine face is inter-
fered with, and the summer of the soul ceases awhile. When God is nigh, when
we feel able to say, " The Lord is at my right hand,'* we can add, " I shall not be
greatly moved." But up comes the mist from the rolling sea of passion and self-
will and pride and human weaknesses, and we find that the light of our life is
awhile quenched. Many days we may have lost sight of land and sun and star,
and God appears to hide Himself, until the soul cries out passionately, "Where is
thy God— where ? " And the tempter echoes and re-echoes the dreary desolate
cry, "Where, ah, where indeed? " And any one who has ever found himself in
such darkness knows that it is most profound ; he who has felt such a distance
between God and him knows it is most terrible and dreary. He who perfectly
fulfilled the Eternal Will, and who was at that very moment fulfilling its more mys-
terious ordinations, cannot wholly escape this bitterness. And yet, I say, never
was Christ more truly fulfilling the Divine Will than now. Never was the Father
more delighted in the blessed Son than now. Why, it was the suffering of a perfect
sacrifice. It wm a true self -offering. If Christ had been dragged to this tree
against His will, if Christ had tried to escape from the hands of his tormentors, it
would have been different. O, my brethren, instead of trying to build upon this
cry of the Saviour's any strange theory, let us rather think how much of real and
abiding comfort we may draw from it. You and I may often have had to pass
through the gloomy way unrelieved by any of heaven's sunshine. It may seem to
us that everything has conspired against us, and that the very heavens are sealed
against our cry. Our prayers may seem to return to ns unanswered. All may
43
674 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [oHikP. rr«
appear to be lost, even God. Let ns but at snch moments look at the blessed
Christ. Let us think how God put His best beloved One through the hottest firea
and the most searching tests. He knew once what it was to have the heavens
above Him darkened. And yet the Eternal Father loved Him. May He not love
you too ? III. And now we come to these words from another point of view. We
have seen in them the utterance of a great anguish ; let us look at them as the
expression of a clinging faith and love. You will perceive why we called atten-
tion to the twenty-second Psalm. That Psalm shows us one who felt himself for-
saken, and who was by no means actually forsaken ; and the words used by Christ
may serve also to show us how very close Christ was to the Eternal heart when He
uttered them. "My God" — 0, if we can only say this, "My God." It matters
little what we may say afterward. If we can only say " My God," the darkness
will not long brood upon our souls. They are words of faith and love, which, when
truly spoken, must bring in the daylight. In the battle of the Christian faith and
life, the victory is more than half won when we can say, ♦' My God." No soul that
is lost can say, " My God." I turn again to the real comfort wrapped up within
the very words which expressed the Saviour's agony. How often is this the case.
The very words by which we express our sorrow, our trouble, are themselves
often charged with deep and true solace and refreshment. We know not how long
this cloud rested over tiie Saviour. I do not think it could be for long. Presently,
we know, the Father was looking upon Him with shining, unveiled face ; for calmly
and restfuUy He breathed forth the dying sigh of thousands since, ♦• Father, into
Thy hands I commend My spirit." {G. J. Proctor, B.A.) Jesus, throwing Him-
self into the bosom of His Father, implores consolation: — This Scripture leads our
thoughts to the desolation of our Jesus ; to inquiry after the cause ; and to the
exclamation that passed from His lips, through the intense suffering of His heart.
I. First, the desolation of Jesus. It was not unforeseen. With regard to the
desolation of Him, whose love undertook our cause ; that we may understand the
meaning of the term He used, it becomes us to enter on a clear, a Scriptural view
of His person, and of the intimate relation which subsisted between the Father and
Himself. He was emphatically *' the Word," that was " in the beginning," eternal,
before all time, before the glowing sun came forth from his chamber, as a bride-
groom, and rejoiced as a giant to run his course. He "was with God" — distinct
in His Person ; and He '• was God " — self-existent in nature or essence. ♦♦ All
things were made by Him; " then He is the mighty Creator of the universe, of
which we form an insignificant part ; and " without Him was not anything made
that was made." As to the nature, then, of this forsaking, of which the lips of
Jesus utter lamentation, it is clear, to him who receives the word of Scripture in
simplicity, that there was no desertion of His humanity by the Word. This Eternal
Word took His human fiesh and reasonable soul into union with itself ; and that
union was never dissolved. By this oneness, the body never saw corruption,
although, after death, it was laid in Joseph's tomb : nor was it separated from the
reasonable soul in Paradise. By this Godhead body and soul were re-united on the
morning of the Resurrection ; that union is preserved to the present, and wiU be
after that wondrous prediction shall be accomplished, that all things having been
subdued unto Him, the Son, the Mediator, the ancient Daysman, shall Himself be
subject unto Him that put all things under Him; that God may be all in all. We
are instructed likewise by Holy Scripture, as to the nature of that intimate and
mysterious relationship that subsisted between the Father and the Son, co-equal,
co-eternal. What testimony can be plainer than the words of Christ Jesus, written
in St. John x. 37, 38? " If I do not," says He, " the works of My Father, believe
Me not. But if I do, though ye believe not Me, believe the works : that ye may
know, and believe, that the Father is in Me, and I in Him." He entreats, with an
earnestness His own, that all the children of faith may be one : as " Thou, Father,
art in Me, and I in Thee, that they also may be one in Us." If the Word forsook
not the humanity, it follows that the Father essentially deserted not the same,
because the Father and the Son are One in nature, eternally, inseparably. Hence,
then, the question. What are we to understand by the complaint of being forsaken ?
That He was bereft of the countenance, the comforts, the consolations of the
Father, in which He had rejoiced. II. Wb have viewed the pibst pabt of oub
SUBJECT, NAMELY, ChBIST FOBSAXXN ; AND COUE TO THE CAUSE, WHICH WAS ASKED BY
His LIPS. The Father gives the answer to this interrogation — "Why?" Because
yon have become the Bondsman of sinners, have consented to stand in their stead ;
thet«fbxe, as at your hands, I look for a continual and perfect obedience to the law
:▼.] 8T, MARK. 673
in its exceeding breadth, so, in your person, I exact the penalty to its ntmost tittle.'*
Here Isaiah, who seems to look upon the scene before us : " the Lord hath lain on
Him the iniquity of us alL Be attentive to Paul : " He made Him to be sin for us,'*
therefore to bleed and die, ** that we might be made the righteousness of God in Him.'*
Little did the Jews imagine, when they exulted in the ignominy of Jesus, who was
without sin, and lived without guile, that in gratifying their malice, they were but
dealing the second blow ; that the first was dealt by a secret, powerful, invisible
hand ; yet such was the fact, according to the testimony of prophets and apostles.
St. Peter, addressing the men of Israel at Jerusalem concerning Israel, says, ** Him,
being delivered by the determinate counsel and foreknowledge of God" — ^there is
the secret purpose — "ye have taken, and by wicked hands crucified and slain; "
there is the resulting blow. In a Psalm of the passion (Ixix. 26) we read, *• They
persecute Him " (the second blow), whom Thou hast smitten " (the first stroke), " and
they talk to the grief of those whom Thou hast wounded." That secret blow was
the fruit of sin, which covered perfect innocence with confusion. Thus Jesus
speaks, in the seventh verse, ** Shame hath covered My face." *♦ "Why ? " As there
was no impatience under the blow, there was no ignorance of the cause. Jesus
asks, not for knowledge, but to call our notice to the fearful cause. Himself gives
the answer, as w* have it in the Vulgate. "Far from My deliverance is the
matter of My sins." III. Thirdly, wb look at the exclamation that passed
THBOUGH His lips, arising from the intense sufferino of the heart. Jesus at
this time does not simply speak ; and who can imagine the bitterness of that
cry — it pierced the heavens — He cried — "He cried with a loud voice." It
before was the sweet word "Father," but not so now. Is He forsaken? why
should we wonder at the hiding of Heaven's countenance ? Jesus in His agony,
inquires, " Why ? " Is it not our wisdom to say, " Is there not a cause ? "—to search
it out and expose our sore to the pitying eye of a Father ? Jesus was made desolate
by that Father, that we might be supported, comforted, delivered. Jesus instructs
as for a dying hour : He turns from creatures, and occupies Himself with God.
Be this our happiness, as it is our privilege ; and when heart and flesh both fail,
the Lord will be the strength of our heart, and our portion for ever. {Thomas
Ward, MU.)
Yet, 36. A sponge ftill of rbiegai.—The acids o/K/«:— They go to a cup of
vinegar, and soak a sponge in it, and put it on a stick of hyssop, and then press it
against the hot lips of Christ. You say the wine was an anaesthetic, and intended
to relieve or deaden the pain. But the vinegar was an insult. I am disposed to adopt
the theory of the old English commentators, who believed that instead of its being
an opiate to soothe, it was vinegar to insult. Malaga and Burgundy for grand dukes
ftnd duchesses, and costly wines from royal vats for bloated imperials — but stinging
acids for a dying Christ. He took the vinegar 1 In some lives the saccharine seems
to predominate. Life is sunshine on a bank of flowers. A thousand hands to clap
approval. In December or in January, looking across their table, they see all their
family present. Health rubicund. Skies flamboyant. Days resilient. But in a
great many cases there are not so many sugars as acids. The annoyances, and the
vexations, and the disappointments of life overpower the successes. There is a
gravel in almost every shoe. An Arabian legend says that there was a worm in
Solomon's staff, gnawing its strength away ; and there is a weak spot in every
earthly support that a man leans on. King George of England forgot all the gran-
deurs of his throne because, one day in an interview. Beau Brummell called him by
his first name, and addressed him as a servant, crying : ''George, ring the belli "
Miss Langdon, honoured all the world over for her poetic genius, is so worried
with the evil reports set afloat regarding her that she is found dead with an empty
bottle of prussio acid in her hand. Goldsmith said that his life was a wretched
being, and that all that want and discontent could bring to it had been brought
and cries out: "What, then, is there formidable in a gaol?" Corregio's fine
painting is hung up for a tavern sign. Hogarth cannot sell his best paintings,
except ttirough a raffle. Andrew Delsart makes the great fresco in the Church of
the Annunciata at Florence, and gets for pay a sack of com ; and there are
annoyances and vexations in high places as well as in low places, showing that in
a great many lives the sours are greater than the sweets. " When Jesus, therefore,
had received the vinegar." It is absurd to suppose that a man who has always
been well can sympathize with those who are sick, or that one who has always
been honoured can appreciate the sorrow of those who are despised, or that one who
676 THE BIBLICAL ILLVSTRATOB. [obap. 1?.
has been bom to a great fortune can understand the distress and the straits of
those who are destitute. The fact that Christ Himself took the vinegar makes TTiti>
able to sympathize to-day and for ever with all those whose oup is fiUed with sharp
acids of this life. {Dr. Talmage.)
Yer. 37. And Jesus cried with a loud Tolce. — CIvrUt died a$ a nihstituite : — la
one sense, Jesus died as our substitute. Now, what is a substitute. A substitute
is one who suffers for or instead of another. A schoolboy feeble of body was brought
up to the master's desk for breaking one of the laws of the school. In those days, the
punishment at school was something like that which is given to garrotters in our
prisons. The poor boy took off his clothes, and stood there with his thin body and his
bones almost pushing through his skin. It was a pitiable slight, so poor and thin and
wretched was that body I There was a great hush in the school I Then one of the
leading boys sprang up with tears in his eyes, and in a moment almost tore hi»
clothes from Lis back, and, while every boy wept, he stood before the master, saying,
" Please, sir, he cannot bear it; I will take his punishment." {W. Birch.) The
death of death : — Last winter, Jacob, a native assistant of mine, was summoned to
his rest. On the day before his death, having been asked how he felt, he replied,
" I shall not rise from this bed again. I am called hence to the Lord." He then
raised his arm, stretched it out, and said, •' Look 1 my arm is nothing but bnnet
and skin ; it is the same with my earthly body. The flesh is dead within me ; my
desire is fixed on my heavenly country — that country where I shall behold Him who
loves me, and whom I love. Yes, I shall see Him shortly." When asked whethei
he feared death, " Oh, no," he answered, "how can I love Christ and fear death?
How can death affect me ? The death of Christ was the death of Death I " (J.
Kogel, Greenland.) Vicarious dying : — In the recent floods in France, at Castle-
sarazin, while the house was being swept away, the mother, in agony to save her
two children, put them in a bread tray and floated the bread tray off upon the
waves ; but the tray with the two children had gone but a short distance when it
struck a tree and capsized. The mother started out for the place. She got there.
She took the two children. She somehow clambered up into the tree with them,
and held on to a branch. But while hanging there the branch began to crack, and
she knew it could not long hold the three, and so she wrapped up her little ones as
well as she could, and she tied them fast to the branch, and then she kissed the
darlings good-bye, and fell backward into the wave and died, while they lived and
were recovered. What do you think of that ? 0 1 you say : " Bravo 1 bravo 1 That
was just like a mother to do that ; " but what do you say when I tell you that these
tides of sin and death are bearing away the race, and that Jesus Christ swims
through the flood, and He comes to us to-night to lift us out and to fasten us to
the tree of life, and then having given ns the kiss of pardon and peace, falls back
Himself in the billows of death, dying Himself that we might live. 0 1 the sacri-
fice of the Son of God 1 Bleeding Jesus, let me embrace Thee now 1 {Dr. Talmage.)
Ver. 38. And the veil of the tempte was rent— Tft« rent veil:—li yon look into
the account of the arrangements and furniture of the Jewish temple, you will find
that there were two veils — the one at the entrance into the holy place ; the other
between the holy place, or the sanctuary, and the most holy, or the holy of holies.
This latter is called by St. Paul, in his Epistle to the Hebrews, " the second veil ; "
and its position is thus described by him — " After the second veil, the tabernacle
which is called the holiest of all ; " for therein, as the apostle goes on to enumerate,
were deposited the most sacred of those mystic articles.which were appropriated to the
rites of the Jewish religion. The second veil is always considered to have been that
which was rent in twain at the death of our Lord ; so that the thing done through
the rending, was the throwing open that heretofore invisible and inaccessible place,
the holy of holies. Invisible and inaccessible, forasmuch as no one but the High
Priest was ever permitted to pass the veil, and he but once in the year, on the great
day of atonement. On that day — all whose ceremonies and sacrifices were so won-
drously significative, representing as with the accuracy of history rather than ol
prophecy, the expiatory work of the Lord our Kedeemer — it was ordered that the
High Priest having slain certain victims, should carry the blood within the veil,
that he might therewith sprinkle the mercy seat. There is no debate that in per-
forming this, the High Priest was a type of Christ in His office of intercessor; foi
Christ after suffering without the camp, offering Himself up as a sin-offering to th»
Almighty, was to pass within the veil— to enter, that is, into the immediate presenot
OBAP. IV.] ST. MARK, 677
of Ood in heaven — oarzying with Him His own blood, that He might plead its virtue
on behalf of His ohorch. Here is the office which Christ still discharges as
Mediator — He died bat once, for one offering sufficed to make expiation for the sins
of the whole world, but He ever liveth to present the merits of His oblation, and
through it to act in heaven as the advocate of those for whom He submitted to the
death of the cross. But we can perhaps scarcely say, that the rending of the veil
had reference to Christ's entrance on His office of intercessor, except that He may
thus have shown that He had opened the way into the holy of holies, and had
obtained a right to enter as our advocate. Until He had completed on the cross
the redemption of the world, He could not become an intercessor with the Father ;
He must have blood wherewith to sprinkle the mercy-seat ; and therefore as the
rent rocks and opened graves proclaimed Him victorious in death, so may the riven
veil have declared that He had won for Himself an access into heavenly places,
there to perpetuate the work which had been wrought out on Calvary. Ajid there
are other intimations which may, perhaps, have been conveyed by the occurrence in
question. It is probable, for example, that the abolition of the Mosaic economy
was hereby figuratively taught. "What could be more significative of a change of
dispensation, than that, at the moment of Christ's death, there should have been
miraculously destroyed the covering which had heretofore shrouded the golden
censer, and the ark of the covenant, and the cherubim of glory shadowing the
mercy-seat ; those majestic and mysterious things which looked upon by any but
the High Priest, demanded the death of the presumptuous beholder f The priests
may have been in the holy place, when suddenly an invisible hand tore in twain the
veil, within which they had never dared to gaze, and revealed those symbols of
divinity which gave an awful sacredness to the unapproached shrine. What thought
they ? How felt they ? If the flashing light from characters traced by an unseen
hand, spread consternation through the halls of the Assyrian, and caused the
monarch to tremble, though girt round with guards, what effect should have been
wrougbt on tiie ministering priests by the sudden shining of all that bright gold
which had long been hidden from the human eye, and in whose deep rich lustres Deity
might be said to have imaged His presence ? Did they turn and flee, as if fearing
that Jehovah was about to come forth from the tremendous solitude, and purify
His temple ; or did they dare to stand and look at the uncovered shrine, amazed
that they might behold, and not be instantly struck dead ? Nay, I know not what may
have been the feelings of the officiating priests at this strange, this fearful visitation of
the holy of holies ; but they knew what was then transacting on Calvary. Their voices
had been loud in demanding the death of Jesus of Nazareth ; and had they not been
given up to a judicial blindness — a blindness justly awarded them for their long
rejection of light— they could scarcely have resisted the surpassing evidence, that the
Mosaic economy was now to pass by. Had, indeed, the expiring groan of Jesus of
Nazareth rent asunder the veil of the temple, and thus made common things
of those which for ages had been fearfully sacred ? O, then, ye priests, ye ought to
learn that your office is at an end; O quench the flres on your altars ; O drive the
sacrificial victims from your courts ; and whilst the earth yet trembles, and appalling
and portentous things tell out ^e majesty of your crucified King, fall down before
Him whom ye have crucified and slain, and learn, as ye may learn, the most amazing
thing of all, that He is compassionate enough to love His enemies, and powerful
enough to save His murderers. Yes, learn that He has indeed come to destroy the
law, but only that He might substitute for it a better covenant ; for all that is
taught you by the fact, that immediately on His giving up the ghost, " the veil of
the temple was rent in twain from the top to the bottom." But we do not thus
exactly bring home to ourselves the type of the rent veil, or give it part in that con-
tinuous instruction which we look for in the prodigies which attended Christ's
death. Yon will remember that not only was there a very quick rending of the
veil, but that the graves were opened, and many bodies of saints which slept
arose and came out of their graves after His resurrection and appeared nnto many.
The quaking of the earth was as much as to tell ns that Satan's dominion was
overthrown — that dominion of which the earth was the seat. The solid globe
shook to its centre, indicating the falling to ruin of that empire of evil which had
been erected upon it. And the rocks were rent ; mountains had been piled up
between God and man ; the barrier was as that of the everlasting hills ; but the
Redeemer in dying broke into shivers the vast impediment, and reconciled the
world to its Creator. But the parable was yet more explicit — the graves were
opened. It had been through apostasy that death had entered the world ; it was
678 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. zv.
one of the most fearful and eomprehensive of the eonseqnenoes of sin ; and, there-
fore was its abolition to be looked for, as one of the chief results of the interference
of a sarety. Hence the opening of the graves. In dying, Christ destroyed death ;
and therefore did the sepolohres at once throw open their gloomy doors, as though
in confession that they had no longer right to hold fast their prey. And if the bars
are loosened, and the prison gates opened, may not the captives march instantly
forth ? What can longer hinder the emancipation of the dead f Yet here there
is a pause; a delay intervenes ; and the evangelist specially notes that it was after
the resurrection of Jesus, that many bodies of the saints which slept arose and
came out of the graves. Does not this figuratively teach that Christ was to be raised
again for our justification : that although the sacrifice of the cross had perfected
our redemption, in respect of God shaking the earth, rending the rocks, opening the
graves, there yet remained a further act to complete it towards ns ? Besnrrection
must follow on death, otherwise would the prison be opened, and yet the prisoner
not discharged. As we gaze on the dying Eedeemer, and listen to the piteous
exclamation which marks how He is deserted of the Father, we are tempted to
doubt whether it be indeed as a conqueror that He departs from this earth, whether
He has indeed vanquished our enemies and those of God, as He bows His head and
gives up the ghost. But soon is heard a sound as of victory. Proof after proof
crowds in upon us, that whatsoever was undertaken has been accomplished, what-
soever we needed been obtained. First, there are general symbols — a trembling
earth and riven rocks. Creation has recognized her Maker in the expiring man,
and confesses by the dissolving of her most solid parts, that He has now effected a
wondrous transformation, extracting good out of evil, converting the fall of man into
an occasion of discomfiture to Satan and of glory to God, and thus virtually turning
the rock into a standing water, the fiint into a fountain of waters. But I seem to
crave yet more specific testimony. I know that creation has before now been dis-
quieted, when it was no message of comfort to man which was written in its struggles
and uttered through its groans ; and I have the more specific testimony. What
shaU I say to opened graves and quickened bodies ? I remember the Saviour to
have said, ♦♦ The hour is coming and now is, when the dead shall hear the voice of
the Son of God, and they that hear shall live." And now the voice which they
have heard, and on which they stirred in their narrow beds, is the voice which
had exclaimed, "It is finished." O beautiful token that in dying Christ hath
indeed mastered death, and that what He finished on the cross is my rescue from
the powers of darkness. But still I crave further testimony; I need a higher
blessing ; it is not enough for me to be emancipated from corruption ; I long for
admission into the world which is radiant with the presence of the Lord God
Almighty ; I long for companionship with angels ; I would walk where they walk ;
I would wait with cherubim and seraphim in the court of the celestial King, gazing
on His glories, and delighting to execute His will. Is this possible ? A creature of
dust — where are the wings with which I may soar, where the path which I may
tread, and find that it conducts me within the veil ? Within the veil 1 Why, whilst
I look on the graves which Christ hath opened by the greatness of His might, and
feel that though they tell me of a resurrection, they do not tell me of entrance into
the celestial courts, there come tidings which announce that the veil of the temple
has been rent in twain — that very veil which I have always regarded as being before
the holy of holies, to show me that there is no admission for such as myself into
the place where Deity is specially manifested. The veil is rent. Then with it
should be rent away all doubt and all unbeliet The door of heaven, as well as the
door of the grave, is thrown open through the work of mediation. I may not only
rise from the dust ; I may tread the firmament ; I may enter by the gate of pearl,
and I may walk the street of gold. There is a remarkable prophecy in the writings
of Micah, which seems closely to bear upon the subject of our present discourse :
it is this — " The breaker is come up before them : they have broken up, and have
passed through the gate, and are gone out of it ; and their King shall pass before them,
and the Lord at the head of them." Now, here is presented to as a magnificent pro-
cession, led by a chief under the expressive title of the breaker ; He heads a vast
company. He directs them through some gate, which He presses open by His own
energy or labour ; and they follow in triumph, and pass on like marclung conquerors.
Who is this but the Lord Jesus Christ, who, having vanquished death, and opened the
closed gate of everlasting life, has gone before that He may prepare a place for His
followers, who through faith and patience, shall inherit His promise. And do yoa
•bserve how the title of the breaker, as applied to oar Bedeemer, ig Terified or
OHAP. XV.] ST. MARK. 67f
vindicated by the prodigies which throng the crucifixion 1 The broken earth, the
broken rocks, the broken graves, the broken veil of the temple— >how do all these
seem to correspond with the name of the breaker 1 Oh ! that in cor own ease we
might be able to add broken hearts to the list, and thus prove that Christ ie etill
a breaker ; but a breaker who breaks only with the graoioos purpose of »«^Mti«
whole. (H. MeMU, B.D,) *
Ver. 39. Truly this Uan was the Son of (SML—The eenturion'i confession ;— Never
did reason obtain a more complete victory over prejudice. Death is the touchstone
of the soul. Even in the most favourable circumstances it tries a man severely.
But in this instance there were many aggravating circumstances to weigh down
and overwhelm the soul. 1. The treason of Judas. Jesus had been delivered np
to His enemies by one who had been admitted to His friendship and close inter-
course with Him. 2. Christ's utter abandonment by His disciples. Not a voice
had been uttered in His defence, or to comfort TTirn ; not one was found to come
forward courageously and acknowledge Him. 3. The injustice of His sentence.
Even His judge was convinced of His innocence ; yet He was condemned to the
most cruel death ever devised. 4. The ignominy accompanying His punishment.
The death of Jesus, '* expiring in the midst of tortures, abused, insulted, cursed by
a whole nation, is the most horrible that could be feared." 5. His knowledge of
all that was to come upon Him. His passion and death commenced in Gethsemane.
There He resigned Himself unreservedly to all the anguish He afterwards under-
went. Nor did He for one moment draw back from the awful sufferings that fol-
lowed. Was not the centurion justified in the conclusion forced upon him by such
a spectacle as this — that He who could thus die must be of a trutii not Man only,
but the very Son of God ? (L. H. Hornet B.D.) The believing centurion ;—
What was Jesus Christ to this heavy-bearded, battle-scarred soldier? He had
heard of Him, doubtless, for the hot talk and the excited crowds in the streets of
Jerusalem could not have escaped the notice of one of the officers appointed to
preserve order in the city. But in his opinion Christ was nothing but a Jewish
fanatic, in regard to whom he was profoundly indifferent. He had received the
order to superintend the execution of this disturber of the peace without any
emotion. After an impassive fashion he had directed the details of the execution,
supposing that it would be only the repetition of a scene familiar to him. The
fact was far otherwise. As has been said, he "halted as he passed the cross
when Jesus uttered His loud death-cry. He was within a few feet of Him, and
must have involuntarily fixed his gaze on Him at such a sound. He saw the
change pass over His features ; the light of life leaving them, and the head
suddenly sink. As it did so, the earthquake shook the ground, and made the three
crosses tremble. But the tremor of the earth affected the Roman less than the
piercing cry and sudden death. He had likely attended many crucifixions, but had
never seen or heard of a man dying within a few hours on a cross. He had nev^
heard a crucified man, strong to the last, utter a shriek that showed, as that of
Jesus did, the full vigour of the vital organs to the last. He felt that there was
something mysterious in it, and joining with it all he had seen and heard of the
sufferer, he broke involuntarily into this confession." The triumphs of the kingdom
of the cross were beginning. The Jewish thief had already asked and received
Messiah's salvation, and now the Gentile centurion bowed in loyalty to the Divine
Sufferer. The confession of the centurion was a sort of first-fruits of the cruci-
fixion. Tradition has it that years afterwards, unable to shake off the influence, he
became a preacher of the gospel ; and certainly that cross testified, as nothing else
could, to the divinity of Him who endured its pains. {E. S. Atwood.) Convert-
ing power in the sight of Christ : — The Koman centurion is not one you would have
expected to be impressed. He was there but casually ; had probably only been in
Jerusalem a few days, Cassarea being his station. His deities were those whose
chief characteristic was power. Meekness and lowliness were, by his people, con-
sidered failings, not virtues. He had probably everything abont religion to learn ;
and yet he follows the dying thief in the path of faith and of salvation. He would
not mean, perhaps, by his exclamation, all that St. Paul would have meant ; bat
he meant that Christ was more than mere man ; that God was in Him ; that what-
ever claims He made we should reverently admit them. Such a converting power
is there in the mere sight of Christ. We have but to fix our honest gaze on Him ,and
we begin to beHeve upon Him and to become hke Him. {R. Glover.) Th erisen
Lord Divine: — If in dying the Boman officer became convinced that Jesos was
680 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap. xv.
Divine, liow much more should we be oonvinoed of the Divinity of a risen and
exalted Christ. (D. C. Hughes^ M.A.) Irwoluntary tettimony to the Divinity of
Jesus: — A well-known learned man of Saxony, after having all his life long
attacked Jesus and His gospel with all the weapons of sophistry he could com-
mand, was in his old age partially deprived of his reason, chiefly through the fear
uf death, and frequently fell into religious paroxysms of a peculiar nature. He
was almost daily observed conversing wiUi himself, while pacing to and fro
in his chamber, on one of the walls of which, between other pictures,
hung one of the Saviour. Bepeatedly he halted before the latter, and said, in a
horrifying tone of voice, ♦♦ After all, Thou wast only a Man." Then, after a short
pause, he would continue, "What wast Thou more than a Man? Ought I to
worship Thee? No, I will not worship Thee, for Thou art only Kabbi Jesus,
Joseph^s son, of Nazareth." Uttering these words, he would return with a deeply-
afifected countenance, and exclaim, "What dost Thou say? That Thou camest
from above ! How terribly Thou eyest me 1 Oh, Thou art dreadful 1 But Thou
art only a Man, after all I " Then he would again rush away, but soon return with
faltering step, crying out, "What 1 Art Thou in reality the Son of Godt " The
same scenes were daily renewed, till the unhappy man, struck by paralysis, dropped
down dead ; and then really stood before his Judge, who, even in His picture, had so
strikingly and overpoweringly judged him. The evidence which arise* from the
nature and character of the gospel : — I. That the rehgion of the gospel is the only
one which has ever yet appeared among mankind which is adequate to all the
instinctive desires and expectations of the human mind. II. There is a second
view of it which arises from its relation to the welfare of society, or the prosperity
of the world. III. That the religion of the gospel is the only one which has ever
appeared among mankind which is commensurate to the future hopes or expecta-
tions of the human soul. {A. Alison^ LL.B.) The centurion : — ^He had been
condemned as a blasphemer by the ecclesiastical authorities, because He had said
that He was the Son of God. It was proper, it was needful, that His claims should
be vindicated. This was done, indeed, eftectuaUy by His resurrection from the
dead : He was then declared to be the Son of God with power — with the most
powerful weight of evidence. But it was not necessary to wait till the third day ;
it was fitting rather that something should be done to vindicate His claims while
He yet suffered, so that His enemies should not completely triumph. The prodigies
which attended the crucifixion of our Lord seemed necessary also, in order to bring
His death into harmony with His life. As in the person so also in the history of
Jesus, there was a strange combination of humihation and dignity, of power and
weakness. The centurion was convinced by the scenes which he witnessed of the
innocence of Jesus. ^ " When the centurion saw what was done, he glorified God,
saying, Certainly this was a righteous man." His enemies had said all manner of
evil of Him. They had said that He was a sinner, a Sabbath-breaker, a profane
person, a leader of sedition, a Samaritan who had a devil and was mad. But to
the centurion all nature became animated, vocal, and refuted these foul calumnies.
The centurion was convinced by the scenes which he witnessed, not only of the
innocence of our Lord, but also of His Messiahship ; he not only exclaimed, •• Cer-
tainly this was a righteous man," but he said again, " Truly this was the Son of
God." Some have supposed that we should interpret this as the language of a
heathen ; and that it means simply this was " a son of a god ; " He was a hero ;
thece was something Divine in Him. But in reading the new Testament we are
struck with the fact that many of the Eoman soldiers, those especially of any
rank, who were stationed in Jndea, appear to have derived much rehgious know-
ledge from their intercourse with the Jews. It is necessary only to refer to the
centurion at Capernaum. This centurion appears to have known that Jesus
claimed to be the Son of God, the promised deUverer of mankind, but that the
Jews denied the claims of Jesus, that they rejected Him, that they pronounced
Him guilty of blasphemy, and worthy of death ; and now the centurion felt that
God had decided the controversy — that He had decided it against the Jews and in
favour of Jesus. He and those with him felt that those prodigies were expressions
of the Divine displeasure ; they said therefore, " What have we done r We have
been partakers with the Jews in this great sin ; we have contributed to the murder of
this righteous man ; we have crucified the Son of Gtod. And what will God dof
He will sorely be avenged on such a people ; He will punish such a deed as this 1 "
Hera it is worthy of remark, that ^ey were soldiers, Roman soldiers who wer«
thus impressed bj the prodigies which attended the death of our Lord ; they werf
<aHip. xw.] 8T, MARK, 681
Oentile soldiers who were convinced by those signs and wonders of the innocence
of Jesus, and of the jastice of His claims ; the Jews were not impressed, were not
convinced by them ; nothing could convince them ; nothing could remove their
prejudices and unbelief ; especially of the chief priests and rulers. So it often is ;
we frequently find most where we expect least; we often find publicans and
sinners, soldiers and Gentiles, more open to conviction, and more susceptible of
impression, than religious professors and self-righteous Pharisees. Of all men
these indeed are generally the most hardened and the most hopeless. We shoul-l
remark further: the centurion and those that were with him watching Jesus, thii
is to say, those who were the least guilty of all the parties concerned in the melan
eholy transactions of that day, feared greatly when they saw in the wonders whicli
attended the death of our Lord the proofs of His Messiahship, and of the Divine
displeasure against His enemies ; but those who were most guilty had no fear.
Luke tells us indeed that all the people that came together to that sight, beholding
the things that were done, smote their breasts and returned. But Annas and
Caiaphas, the chief priests and rulers, were not amongst them. Their consciences
were seared, their minds were reprobate; they were given ap to judicial blindness
And obduracy. {J. J. Davies.)
Vers. 42-47. Joseph of Arlmathaea, an honourable connsellor. — The crisis in
Joseph's life : — The record of spiritual progress through many years is given here.
Long looking for the promised Saviour, almost convinced that Jesus is the Christ,
yet for a while doubting so great a consolation, we find him at last settling in the
great belief that He was the promised Saviour. With the timidity natural to a rich
man and a ruler, he waits to be still more fully assured before openly committing
himself to a discipleship which will involve him in persecution of the sternest kind.
He, therefore, opposes in the Sanhedrin the persecution of Christ, but does nothing
more. But the constraining power of the cross makes him abandon his policy of
secrecy. It is not a time to shrink from shame or danger when Jesus hangs upon
the cross. 1. Give men time to grow. " First the blade," Ac. 2. Secrecy inva-
riably kills discipleship, or discipleship secrecy. Here the latter happier result is
seen ; but beware of concealing God's righteousness in your heart. 3. The rulers
had thought to rob Christ of His followers among the people ; but all they really
do is to give Him additional followers (Nicodemus, as well as Joseph) among them-
selves. 4. There is always *• a remnant " that remains faithful to God. Even in
the Sanhedrin there are some that believe. 5. Li no circumstances is goodness an
impossibility. {R. Glover.) Joseph of Arimathaa : — ^This man becomes prominent
on the momentous day of Calvary, but till then unknown. He belongs to a class
who appear for a moment on the stage of the history, to teach some great lesson or
to perform some special service, and then disappear. All we know of him is that
he was of Arimathsea (the site of which is not certainly known), a man of wealth, a
member of the Jewish Council, a good man and a just, who waited for the kingdom of
God, and a disciple of Jesus, but secretly, through fear of the Jews ; that his fear gave
place to courage in that day of Christ's greatest humiliation, when he avowed him-
self His disciple, and boldly craved the body of the crucified Jesus ; and that he had
the high honour of laying it in his own new tomb, hewn in a rock, near the city.
In his story we see how — I. Faith is sometimes found in unexpected quarters. II.
Faith, hitherto weak, by God's grace may spring into strength to meet and surmount
greatest difficulties. III. Instruments are forthcoming at the right moment to fulfil
God's purposes, when to man it would seem impossible, (r. M. Macdonald, M.A.)
Secret discipleship : — Secret discipleship like that of Joseph is truly excellent, inas-
much as times and opportunities will occur for it to render essential service to truth
and virtue ; but open discipleship is infinitely preferable, inasmuch as in season and
out of season its example and action are continuously and powerfully infl aencing
for good, more or less, all who come into contact with it. (Dr. Davies.) Legend
respecting Joseph : — A special interest attaches to his name for Englishmen from
his supposed connection with this country. He is one of the few Scriptural names
that are associated with the early legends of British history. He shares the dis-
tinction with Pudens, Claudia, and St. Paul. Tradition says that he was sent by
St. Philip as a missionary to this island, and that, settling at Glastonbury, he
erected the first Christian Church in Britain, made of wicker twigs, on the site
where the noblest abbey was subsequently buUt. His pilgrim's staff, which hp
drove into the ground, is said to have taken root and grown into an umbragoouK
thorn to protect him from the heat. We smile, perhaps, at the legend, but it wa-:
68a THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTBATOB, [chap. if.
only the romantic dress in which an imaginative age clothed an important truth.
It tells how, from a small and unpretending enterprise, the founder, whoever he
may have been, was able to raise up a vast monastery, within the walla of which he
took refuge himself, and offered means of shelter to others from the bustle and tur-
moil of the world. {H. M. Luckock, D.D.) Joseph's position and character : —
The Sanhedrin of Jerusalem consisted of seventy members, of whom twenty-four
were the heads of the priesthood, twenty-four were heads of the tribes of Israel, and
twenty-two were scribes learned in the law. Joseph was, no doubt, one of the noble
representatives of the people, and, as such, shared in the functions of government,
and was conversant with those sacred Scriptures which formed the basis of the
Jewish Commonwealth. ArimathsBa is thought to have been situated on the fertile
plain of Sharon, where, probably, Joseph's property lay. He also possessed an
estate in Jerusalem — possibly a house in the city — certainly a garden in the out-
skirts. Josephus tells us that the Holy City was in those times thickly surrounded
by groves and gardens ; shady retreats in the heat from the crowded streets of the
metropolis. Captain Conder, and some of the leading topographical experts, are of
opinion that recent research has fixed on the probable site of Calvary, and of
Joseph's garden near at hand, some short distance outside the city, where an eleva-
tion of the ground, in the form of a skull, abuts upon an old Eoman road ; and near
at hand, till lately buried under the accumulated soil, a sepulchre in the adjacent
rock has been discovered, which, it is thought, may have been the very tomb happily
concealed for so many ages from the corrupt worshippers and crusaders, who have
lavished their regard upon a mistaken site inside the walls. Be this as it may, we
know that Jesus died "outside the camp," and from St. John that "in the place
where Jesus was crucified was a garden," and that " the sepulchre was nigh at
hand " to Calvary. A place of public execution, and a garden nigh at hand, were
both more probably situated outside the city wall, and abutting on some roadway,
rather than within the immediate precincts of Zion. Here, then, under the shade
and concealment of trees and umbrageous shrubs, we may think of this honourable
counsellor as refreshing his spirit in peaceful meditations, by day and night, when
his public duties permitted of repose. One's thoughts picture this good man sitting
under the shadow of some terebinth or sycamore, in full view of the holy temple
rising in the distance, and reading the prophet Isaiah, very likely reading sometimes
the fifty-third chapter, and asking himself — "Of whom speaketh the prophet, of
himself, or of some other man? " How little he imagined, as he sat there, poring
over the sacred scroll, that he himself was denoted on that wondrous page as the
" rich man " who should furnish a " sepulchre " to the crucified Messiah ; much less
did he imagine, as he paced along his favourite shady pathway, in the morning or
the evening light, and stood before the door of his tomb, that that garden of his
was destined to be most holy ground, the scene of an event on which the justifica-
tion, redemption, and immortal life of mankind depended. {Ed. White.) Burial
of Christ : — I have been told that the bells in St. Paul's Cathedral, London, never
toll save when the king or some member of the royal family dies. The thunders in
the dome of heaven never toUed so dolefully as when they rang out to the world the
news, " King Jesus is dead I " When a king dies, the whole land is put in black :
they shroud the pillars ; they put the people in procession ; they march to a doleful
drum-beat. What shall we do now that our King is dead T Put blackness on the
gates of the morning. Let the cathedral organs wail. Let the winds sob. Let all
the generations of men fall in Une, and beat a funeral-march of woe ! woe 1 woe! as
we go to the grave of our dead King. In Philadelphia they have a habit, after the
coffin is deposited in the grave, of the friends going formally up and standing at the
brink of the grave and looking in. So, I take you all to-night to look into the grave
of our dead King. The lines of care are gone out of his face. The wounds have
stopped bleeding. Just lift up that lacerated hand. Lift it np, and then Iaj it
down t^oftly over that awful gash in the left side. He is dead 1 He is dead f {Dr,
Talmage.) An honourable man : — The power of religious character in men of high
station. — The humblest Christian life has an irresistible influence for good in some
measure and in certain directions. A man need not be nobly bom, or distinguished
for talent and wealth, in order to do brave work for God. And yet it remains true
that those who are held in high esteem among men have an exceptional influence,
and so are weighted with an exceptional responsibility. It is probable that no other
of the disciples could have accomphshed what Joseph effected. Mary Magdalene
would have been turned away from the door of Pilate's palace ; Peter and Joha
would have been answered with a curt rebuff, even if they had gained a scant hear-
OBAT. XT.] ST, MARK, 683
ing from the Roman governor. But Joseph's social standing was Buoh that he coald
not be dismissed with a sneer and a frown. He matched his station against that of
Pilate, and so received courteous treatment, and had his request granted. Consti-
tuted as human society is, how often this incident has been repeated in history.
Constantino embraced Christianity, and all the idolatry of the empire shrank in
sudden collapse. President Garfield confessed Christ in creed and life, and the
nation kindled with a new reverence for the faith of the gospel. His dying bed was
a pulpit that preached more emphatically than all the other pulpits of the land.
Men in authority, civic or social, by reason of their opportunities, owe more to God
than the great multitude. Their service need not be ostentatious. Rulers and
statesmen and scholfirs need not flaunt their piety in the eyes of men, but if it is
genuine and earnest it can make channels of influence for itself, as the streams from
the mountain-tops cleave their way to the sea by simple momentum, through inter-
vening ridges and barriers of rock, beautifying all the leagues through which they
flow. Great opportunities bring gieat responsibilities. It is well for men in high
places when they recognize tiie fact and accept the burden. {E. S. Atwood.) Went
in boldly.— Moral courage ;— A great deal of talent is lost in the world for the want
of a little courage. Every day sends to their graves a number of obscure men, who
have only remamed in obscurity because their timidity has prevented them from
making a first effort ; and who, if they could have been induced to begin, would in
all probability have gone great lengths in the career of fame. The fact is, that to
do anything in this world worth doing, we must not stand back shivering and think-
ing of the cold and danger, but jump in and scramble through as well as we can.
It will not do to be perpetually calculating risks and adjusting nice chances; it did
very well before the flood, when a man could consult his friends upon an intended
publication for a hundred and fifty years, and then live to see its success afterwards ;
but at present a man waits and doubts, and consults his brother and his par-
ticular friends, till one fine day he finds that he is sixty years of age; that
he has lost so much time in consulting his first cousins and particular friends
that he has no more time to follow their advice. {Sydney Smith.) Great occasiom
discover great qualities : — Some natures need powerful incentives to draw out their
better traits and nobler qualities. Close to Bracelet Bay, Mumbles, is a bell-buoy
marking a concealed rock. This bell rings only in the storm. It is only when the wind
is high and the billows roll and beat against it that it gives forth the music that is in it.
On the crucifixion, death, and burial, of Christ ;— You are invited— 1. To witness
the crucifixion of Christ. 2. To attend the burial of Christ ; and— 3. To watch at
His grave. I. You are invited to witness the ceucifixion of Christ. "It
was the third hour of the day, and they crucified Him." Here you will naturally
mark 1. The instrument of His torture. It was a cross — a cross composed of two
pieces of timber ; one a transverse beam, and the other a perpendicular one, the
foot of which was inserted into the ground ; and then the sufferer was nailed to that
cross, and suspended in bleeding anguish, tiU life became extinct. It was not only
a most ignominious, but it was a most agonizing death ; and not only was it
agonizing, but it was lingering. You will naturally think of the place of His
crucifixion, "They led Him to a place called Golgotha," which signifies, the
place of skulls. There it was that malefactors were executed. In that gloomy,
melancholy, horrifying spot, did the Saviour pay the forfeiture of our guilt. You will
naturally revert, not only to the instrument of His torture, and the place of His
suffering, but to the time of His crucifixion. It was a very remarkable season ; at the
particular moment when the Jewish Passover was held, and when, consequently,
there was a vast concourse of persons gathered, both Jews and proselytes from
among the Gentiles, in order to keep this annual feast. This was remarkable,
both with respect to the typical relation of Christ's death, and with respect to the
open publicity or popularity of His death. You will not only think of the instru
ment, and the time, and the place, of His crucifixion, but you will think of the
aggravations of it. In His agonies He met with mockery, insult, and derision.
He was exposed to the rude treatment of the soldiers, and had the mortification of
beholding their avaricious contention among themselves, when they " parted His
raiment, and for His vesture they did cast lots." There are those who care little
for Christ, beyond His robes and His vesture. II they can enrich themselves with
the smallest perquisite from His wardrobe, this is all that concerns them, and all
that they are disposed to contend about. But that which seems to have con-
■tituted the greatest aggravation of His crucifixion, was this — the withdrawment
ol the light, and sensible consolation, derived from the presence of His Divine
684 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [ohaf. Xf
Father. Ton will cot only notice the instrament, and the place, and the time, and
the aggravations, of His crucifixion, but you will advert to those supematural
portents which accompanied this transaction, and which proved it to be decidedly
extraordinary, and of what we may call a miraculous character: for you will
remember that while He was suspended on the cross, darkness extended itself over
the whole land. He was crucified. II. We abk fubtheb invited, this mobnino,
TO ATTEND His BDBiAL. This demonstrates, in the first place, the truth and
indubitable certainty of His death. All this was not an imaginary scene ; it was
DO fantastic illusion. He really suffered, and He really died. The character of
His death deserves our particular notice. He died not an ordinary or common
death, but He died as a public person ; and His death was of a threefold character.
1. It may be considered as a satisfaction for sin. 2. As a glorious triumph. 3.
As an edifying example III. And now, uy deab heabbbs, fob a bhobt season,
YOU ABB INVITED TO WATCH AT His ORAVB. " Comc, Ece the place where the Lord
lay." 1. It was a new tomb — it had never been previously occupied. By which, I
think God intended, in His Providence, to put especial honour upon the mangled
remains of His Son ; " that in all things, He might have the pre-eminence " — that
precedence might be given to Him, even in the lowest depths of His humiliation.
2. It was the tomb which Joseph of Arimathiea had prepared as his own resting
place. How willingly should men sacrifice everything for Christ ; the honour of
an honourable interment, not excepted. Then, it was well for Joseph of
Arimatheea, that Christ, by condescending to occupy his grave, seasoned it and
perfumed it, and left there a lasting fragrance. 3. It was a tomb singularly
guarded and fortified. I have only to add, once more, that it was in a garden. It
was in a garden that man lost his innocency ; in a garden that Adam sinned ; and
therefore in a garden Christ was buried, that He might expiate the guilt of sin,
and take away the sting of death. Now, brethren, in retiring from the crucifixion,
from the burial, and from the grave, of Jesus, we must first observe the vehement
displeasure and indignation of Ood against sin. Secondly, in departing, let us
bitterly bewail those sorrows which we have been instrumental in inflicting upon
the immaculate Eedeemer. Thirdly, let us accept the oblation and sacrifice of the
Son of God. In the fourth place, how little reason have we to fear death. If we
are united to Christ, " death is ours " — " to die, is gain." Lastly, how reasonable
it is that we should give our lives to Him, who has encountered death in all its
bitterness for us. {G, Clayton, M.A.) The burial of Jems : — No mention is on
record concerning the final disposal of Jesus' crucified body, except the somewhat
bare statement that a stranger asked the privilege of laying it in his family tomb.
I. The friend in need. It was a settled principle of the Mosaic law, that, if a
man had been executed for a capital crime, his body should not be suffered to
remain unburied even over a night ; for he that was hanged was accursed of God
{Deut. xxi. 22, 23). This seems to have been borne in mind by the chief priests
when they suggested that Jesus' legs should be broken in order that he might not
be dilatory in dying (John xix. 31). And after He was dead the same recollection led
H new man—a stranger from one of the towns in Ephraim, but having a residence
in Jerusalem — to the carrying out of a much more generous purpose. On Friday
eveuing he went to the governor, and gained permission for the interment of the.
body. 1. Who was Joseph of Arimatheea ? Mark tells us he was a councillor who
like old Simeon had " waited for the kingdom of God " (zv. 43). John says he was
a true disciple of Jesus, only he had hitherto been afraid to confess Him openly
(xix. 38). Matthew adds that he was a "rich man" (xzvii. 67). And Luke
informs as that in character he was ** a good man and a just," and that
although he was a member of the Sanhedrin, he had refused to vote for
Christ's condemnation (xxiii. 50, 51). 2. What was his special usefulness? (1)
He furnished generous help. Just then there was a supreme need in the circle
of Jesus' friends. Crisis periods in the providence of God, occurring now and
then, cause even commonplace services to become intensely important. Who else
would have buried Jesus, when all the disciples had forsaken him and fled f (2)
He fulfilled an embarrassing prophecy. It had been declared many hundred years
before that the Messiah should make His grave with the rich in His death (Isa.
liii. 9). There surely was no wealth within reach for those faithful women who
were exhausting their resources on the costly spices they purchased for the
embalming. Joseph was raised up for this grand office. Noble opportunity
always discloses the needed man. (3) He obtained a valuable argument. In the
endless debate about Christ's resurrection from the dead, it has pleased some reck-
XT.] 8T, MARK, 685
leas disputants to assert that the reason why Jesus was found alive on Sunday
morning, was because he had never been actually dead after all. Joseph's request
tor the body surprised Pilate, for he did not suppose that the man he had crucified
would have died so soon ; hence he instantly took measures to ascertain from the
military officer who had conducted the execution the facts in the case. Satisfied
on this point, he gave his consent at once (Mark xv. 44, 45). Thus Joseph's con-
■ideration and courage added another unanswerable testimony to the truth for the
Church's use. II. The nkw skpulchbb. Our next question arises most naturally
concerning the exact place where our Lord Jesus was laid. Joseph did not find it
necessary to consult any one as to the disposal of the body his bold petition had
gained. He seems to have had his own way about everything. 1. What tradition
has to say concerning the locality is easily stated ; but it will bring no satisfaction.
There stands in Jerusalem to this day what is called the " Church of the Holy
Sepulchre ; " a dirty, rambling, old structure, which the resident priests of many
faiths assert was raised upon the precise field of the crucifixion, and now covers the
whole area of Golgotha. The tomb of Jesus is represented by an imposing
mausoleum in the midst of it ; and beside it, and around it, is almost everything
else under that extensive roof which the imagination could wish or the purse could
pay for. Calvary is a domed room upstairs and in the air. A knob in the floor
marks the exact "centre of the earth." Underneath this is Adam's grave, and the
iomb of Melchizedek is close by. One can have almost any historic site within
this absurd enclosure, at a proper price and with fit notice. It is evident at once,
when a man in simplest of candour sets his eyes upon this place with its surround-
ings, that such an edifice, with its populous shrines, could never by any possibility
have been situated beyond the city wall, ♦* without the gate," and yet have left
room for Jerusalem to exist on its sacred hills. 2. The Scriptures do not pretend
to give any aid in locating the tomb of Jesus. Matthew says Joseph laid the body
in a sepulchre which was " his own," and which was " new " (xxvii. 60). Mark
relates that this burial-ground was hewn out of the rock (xv. 46). Luke adds that it
had never been used for an interment before (xxiii. 63). John furnishes all the
hints of help we have, when he states that it was in a " garden," and the garden
was " in the place where Jesus was crucified " (xix. 41, 42). Some of the best
scholars on both sides of the ocean are coming to believe that the spot which best
answers all the requisitions of the inspired narrative, is to be found in the neigh-
bourhood of the northern wall of Jerusalem, close by what is called the Damascus
Gate ; and that to the rounded knoll, of slight elevation, but resembling a skull in
general shape so striMngly as to arrest the attention of every^ beholder, — the
knoll, which arches over what is known as the " Cave of Jeremiah," — was once
given tJbie name of Calvary. 3. The decision, even if it could be made, however,
might prove far from valuable now. When we remember the foUies of devoteeism,
and the offensive wrestle of the Eastern national churches over so-called holy
shrines for many a century, we may perhaps be willing to think it is better that
the exact locality of Jesus' burial should never be known, and Golgotha remain
unmarked on the map. III. The few moubnebb. To most of us it appears
passing strange that not one of the disciples is recorded as having been present
at the burial of Jesus. John tells us that Nicodemus, that other wealthy ruler of
the Jews who once came for an interview with Our Lord in the night, was associated
with Joseph in these kind offices of affection (xix. 39). Mark mentions the Virgin
Mary and Mary Magdalene by name (xv. 47). This is confirmed by Matthew
(xxvii. 61). Luke, by a singular form of expression, seems to refer us to another
verse in his own gospel (xxiii. 65). These " women also which came with him
from Galilee" are named once before (Luke viii. 2, 3). And Mark likewise
identifies them for us by the same expression ; those who *♦ ministered unto Him
when He was in Galilee" were "looking on afar off" during the crucifixion
(xv. 40, 41). Thus, as we compare the narratives of the different Evangelists, do
what we ^<dll, we cannot find that more than these seven or eight persons — two
men and five or six women — assisted in this last service. 1. As to the men —
Joseph and Nicodemus — it is suggestive to remark that they resembled each other
in public position ; they were ^th senators in the grand council of the nation.
Moreover, they had both been timid and backward all along, till this great crisis in
•ffairs brought them out. They perilled fame and fortune now in uniting them-
selves to the cause of Christ, when the look of it on the human side was most
melancholy and desperate. 2. As to the women — Mary the mother of Jesus-
Mary Magdalene ; Joanna ; Susanna : Mary the mother of James ; and Salome.—
666 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap. IV.
some few partioolars may profitably be noted. ^1) How tender was their spirit I
For of course we reckon them in that pathetic group of the " daughters of
Jerusalem," to whom, as they wept, Jesus had spoken on His way to the cross
(Luke xxiii. 27, 28). Some of them had stood patiently at His feet all through
the dark time when He was dying (John xis. 25). (2) How grateful were their
memories I It was impossible for Mary of Magdala to forget the favour she had
received. Each of them all must have recalled some good deed Jesus had done, or
some kind word He had spoken. (3) How lavish were their offerings ! They had
been in the habit of ministering to Him " with their substance " while in Galilee ;
and even now, on that melancholy Friday evening, they were at much expense
preparing unguents and " sweet spices " with which to anoint His body
(Luke xxiii. 66). So we conclude as before, that these devout and honourable
women have a right to have the grand memorial that remains of them. Wherever
the Bible goes, will go the story of that gentle group of Christian friends around
Jesus' grave in the garden. IV. The silent tomb. Our study closes to-day with
the vision of that impressive scene still resting upon our imagination. A few
reflections arise as we remain sitting among the shadows by the sepulchre. 1.
Things are not what they seem. What contrasts are bere of the mean with the
majestic I A poor crucified body lies in a borrowed tomb. A slender company of
friends are in waiting. A band of drowsy soldiers are stationed before the sealed
door (Matt, xxvii. 66). But within the enclosure, unseen as yet, there are already
two angels from heaven, one at the feet, one at the head, reverently keeping watch
(John XX. 12). And the supreme God is looking down providently ; for He is not
going to suffer His Holy One to see corruption (Acts ii. 31). 2. Redemption is not
yet fully completed. We ask curiously. Where was our Saviour's soul during those
three days ? The Apostles' Creed assumes to answer *• He descended into hell ; "
thus it follows David's Psalm (xvi. 10). But it cannot mean what it appears to
say. Simon Peter (1 Peter iii. 19) speaks about His preaching to •* spirits in
prison ; " but commentators differ sharply concerning the interpretation his words
will bear. We do not know : this mystery lies concealed in the infinite reserve of
God. 3. Our only glory is in the cross (Gal. vi. 14). We have nothing to glory over in
the burial. It seems sad and lonely: but the resurrection was coming, (C7. S. Robingon^
D.D,) The buriert : — Some topics of interest present themselves for our consideration,
on a view of the conduct of Joseph and Nicodemus ; such as the fact of their disciple-
ship ; the secrecy of it ; the noble avowal of it on occasion of our Lord's deepest
humiliation ; and the bearing of this on the evidence of His Divine mission, and of
His resurrection from the dead. In the fact that our Lord was buried by Joseph
and Nicodemus, and in the grave of the former, we have the accomplishment of an
important prediction respecting the Messiah, while, at the same time, it served to
render the fact of His resurrection undeniable. I. We notice the fact that Joseph
AND NmoDBHUS WEBB THE DISCIPLES OF Jesus *, and the first thing which strikes us
in connection with the fact of their discipleship, is their position in society. They
were distinguished at once by their wealth, and by their rank and influence. " Not
many wise men, not many mighty, not many noble, are called ; " and, while our
Lord was yet on earth. His enemies asked, with an air of triumph, " Have any ol
the rulers, or of the Pharisees, believed on EEim ? " And it is certain that He had
but few disciples amongst the respectabilities of His day. But yet He had some,
and Joseph and Nicodemus were of them. This fact also suggests a very cheering
reflection, that true piety may sometimes be found where we least expect to meet
with it. Joseph and Nicodemus were the disciples of Jesus. This expression can-
not signify less, in my opinion, than this, that they believed His Messiahship ;
they believed, not only that He was a just man and a prophet, but that He was tiie
Christ — the long-promised and earnestly-expected deliverer of Israel. The professed
disciples of Jesus avowed this as their belief, and were understood to avow it. But
as Joseph and Nicodemus were disciples secretly, they did not avow it, but they
inwardly cherished it ; in their hearts they believed that Jesus was the Christ
They, too, had found the Messiah, but in how strange an environment 1 How different
the reality from all the expectations which they had formed of Him 1 ** Blessed
are our eyes, for they have seen the Lord's Anointed ; blessed are our ears, for they
have heard Messiah's voice." They were the disciples of Jesus. This suggests
another reflection : how great e diversity of opinion which obtained amongst the
Jews respecting the character an claims of the Redeemer ! We find amongst them
all shades of opinion respecting Him, from the most exalted conceptions of His
dignity, and the most profound veneration for His worth, down to the most profaiM
▼.] ST. MARK. 687
and impions ideas of His oharseter. And yet, believe me, the trath yon will never
receive unless yon are yourself true. They were the disciples of Jesus. How or
when Joseph was convinced of the Messiahship of Jesus we are not informed ; but an
interesting narrative, in the early part of St. John's Gospel, acquaints us with the in-
troduction of Nioodemns to our Lord, and informs us of the subject of their conversa-
tion. It appears that, from that time, Nicodemus was inwardly persuaded that Jesus
was the Christ. And as the miracles of Jesus convinced him that He was a prophet,
BO His wisdom and knowledge convinced him that He was the Messiah. From that
night he appears to have been the sincere, though secret disciple of Jesus. U. And
this leads us to our next topic, the secbeoy of theib dmcifleship. They were the
disciples of Jesus sincerely, but secretly ; they were inwardly persuaded of His Divine
mission, and of His Messiahship, but they kept their convictions and feelings to them-
selves. How far did they proceed in the concealment of their attachment to Jesus ?
We are mistaken if we imagine that they were guilty of positive duplicity, or that
they used any art to conceal their real sentiments. But why did they hesitate to
avow their conviction ? They were evidently amiable, and perhaps, also, they were
timid men. The amiable are often timid, though not always, or necessarily so, by
any means. The amiable, but, at the same time, thoroughly principled and devout
man, is not unlike the verdant slopes in the midst of rugged rocks, which you some-
times see beside our broad rivers, where all seems so soft, so gentle, and so green,
and presents an air of so much tranquility and repose, that the eye delights to rest
upon it, and the mind is soothed and refreshed by its sweet influence ; but around
and underneath that softness and gentleness, there is a solid rock, on which the
fiercest storms may beat in vain. The Jews had resolved that whosoever confessed
that Jesus was the Christ should be ** cast out of the synagogue " — should be ex-
communicated. This was a terrible evil, amounting, in its severest form, to nothhig
less than civil death ; and Joseph and Nicodemus had much to lose. We are mis-
taken if we suppose that the rich and powerful can more easily avow their convic-
tions, especially in times of danger, than the poor and destitute. The more men
have to lose, the greater in general is their reluctance to part with it. Under these
circumstances, Joseph and Nicodemus, while in reality yielding to the fear of man,
perhaps thought, that in not avowing their belief of the Messiahship of Jesus, they
were but acting with justifiable prudence and caution. This is one way in which we
often deceive ourselves. We would fain be persuaded that we are exercising a moral
virtue, that we are even wiser than other men, when, in truth, we are yielding to
temptation, and falling into a snare. The language of Scripture would lead us to
r^iard the situation of these men as one of great peril. It is the duty of all who
receive the righteousness of God to make it known. In making man the depository
of His richest treasure. Divine truth, it is God's gracious design, not that it should
be concealed, but communicated. To hide the truth that is in as, is, therefore, un-
faithfolness to God and man ; and this, surely, is a state of guilt and of danger.
III. We proceed to notice the noble avowal of their real sentiments and feelings,
which Joseph and Nicodemus made on the occasion of our Lord's death. How
strange that these men who begged the body of Jesus, and who united in showing
the utmost respect to His lifeless remains, did not rise up, some hours before, to
demand, or, at least, to solicit. His acquittal I While the trial proceeds, no voice is
heard on His behalf ; He must be condemned— He must die. But no sooner is He
condenmed than tones of the bitterest woe are heard in the temple : it is Judas,
exclaiming, ** I have sinned in that I have betrayed the innocent blood I " As He
is led away to be crucified amidst the tramp and confused noise of myriads moving
in one mass through the streets of Jerusalem, you distinctly hear the sighs and cries
of those who bewailed and lamented Him. While He is hanging on the cross, the
penitent malefactor testifies to His innocence. His power, and His grace. When He
IS dying, all nature sympathizes with Him ; (Gentile soldiers smite on their breasts,
and exclaim, ** This was the Son of God." And no sooner has He expired, than the
flame of love, which had been long pent up, blazes in the hearts of these noble
counsellors, and a spirit of holy courage animates them, and they beg the body of
Jesus ; and they bury Him with the profoundest respect, with their own hands per-
forming the funeral rites. The conduct of these noblemen appears remarkable when
contrasted with that of the apostles. They all forsook Hun when He was appre-
hended ; and afterwards, they seemed, for the most part, ashamed to show themselves
openly. Their conduct is still the more remarkable when taken in connection with
their own previous history. When Jesus was alive and at liberty, when all con-
fessed His power, and tiie world went after Him, their attachment to Him was •
638 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chat, xrt
secret ; but now that He is publicly condemned and crucified, and His chosen dis-
ciples have deserted Him, they come forward and beg His body, and honour Hia
sacred remains. How strangely men change I Often do they change with circum-
stances ; sometimes they change even against them. With what feelings did they
bury Him ? With what faith ? Did they still believe that He was the Messiah ?
IV. We must just advert to the beabimq of this fact on the bvidbncb o» oub
Lobd's Divine mission, and ov thb tbuth or His besubbeoxion. The fact that
our Lord was buried by these noblemen in the grave of Joseph of Arimathsea, affords
one more evidence of His Divine mission : it was necessary to complete the proof
of His Messiahship ; for thus was fulfilled a very remarkable prophecy concerning
Him : •' His grave was appointed with the wicked ; but with the rich man was His
tomb " (Ita. liii. 9. [Lowth's translation]). But this fact has also an important
bearing on the resurrection of our Lord : it has served to render it undeniable. If
Jesus had been buried with the malefactors with whom He suffered, in some common
grave, His resurrection might have been very doubtful ; an air of Uncertainty might
always have attached to it. But the circumstances of His burial were so ordered
that there could be no possibility of a mistake touching His resurrection ; that if He
were not risen there could be no doubt about it, and that, if He were risen, the fact
must be unquestionable. (J. J. Davies.) The character of an Jionourable coun-
sellor:— ^A counsellor is a man who studies the law, to qualify himself for defending
the life, property, or reputation of his client. To become an honourable counsellor,
a man must be — 1. Perfectly satisfied that the basis of the law is jubtice ; and— 2. He
must be irrevocably determined neither to engage in an imjust action, nor to con-
tinue the defence of one from the time he discovers it to be so. (1) Because he will
thereby take part with the oppressor, and become an accomplice in depriving the
injured parties of their rights. (2) Because, in such an action he must speak
against his conscience, and advance untruths to support his cause, and must descend
to despicably mean arts to confoimd the evidence, and to influence the jury to decide
in opposition to justice. (3) Because nothing less than total depravity could, for the
love of money, induce a man to appear in defence of injustice, at the hazard of his
conscience, his integrity, his veracity, the salvation of his soul, and the esteem of
man. (4) Because retrospection must be painful. (6) Because to obviate the conse-
quences of such proceedings, it will be absolutely requisite that restitution should
be made to every one whose injury he has been the means ol ocoasioning. {The
PulpU,)
CHAPTEB XVL
Vebb. 1-8. And wlien the Sabbath w&s past.— TA« Sahhath before th6 remrreetion
of ChrUt .'—There never was such a Sabbath on earth as that described here.
1. To Jesus, our Divine Master, it was a Sabbath of silence. His ministry had
closed. His public career had ended. Love and hate, and want and weakness, were
all outside, and Jesus was in the sepolchre. 2. To the disciples it was a sabbath
of grief. The heart had been torn out of their lives. This was the darkest sabbath
they had ever known. 3. To the churchmen in their temple-worship it was a
sabbath of guilt and fear. Sing they might ; but there lay that dead Saint in the
garden, and they seemed to hear His deep pantings as He travelled under the cross
towards Golgotha. Pray they might ; but they would seem to hear Jehovah telling
them to wash their hands in innocency, and so surround His altarl Then there
was something about that garden-sepulchre that was frightful to them. They had
rolled up a huge stone and sealed it, set a guard, and yet that Teacher seemed to be
abroad and walking through the temple, and ever and anon His great eyes would
throw out flashes from their awful depths, which made their souls quail in them.
And ever and anon their hearts beat as tiiey seemed to hear the accents of His
marvellous voice, as if its echoes still hung on cloister-beams, and would occasion-
ally descend with its palpitating utterances on their horror-stricken ears. No living
man could scare them as that dead Man did. (Dr. Deems.) Jestu risen: —
L What was the object of these women in qoino to thb sepulchbe? That
they might anoint the body of the dead Christ. This was their only thought.
They had loved Him. They loved Him still : and with a woman's fidelity loved
Him though He were not merely onfortunate, but false to His word. It was de>
XVI.] ST. MARK. 689
Bpairing, yet unbelieving love. The Easter morning's sun has risen in the Church
these eighteen hundred years, and there are those who still go to the tomb looking
for their Christ. The Church for such is but a sepulchre. Their Christ is a dead
Christ. Their Christian love is tearful. The world, the Church, needs enthusiastic
believers; and they can never be had except as each can say, "I know that
my Eedeemer liveth." Despairing, unbelieving love is always timid and dis-
trustful. It always sees obstacles ahead. It cannot go easily in an open path.
Faith removes mountains. Faith in a living Christ makes the way to heaven easy
to tread, open to view. II. The obamokd xrrand of these visitobs to the tomb
or Jesus. They had come to embalm Him. Their spirit, purpose, all are changed.
It is not now in sadness to anoint a dead Christ, but in gladness to announce a
risen Christ. And the new work of hope is much easier than the old errand of
despair. Is there not just this difference between the spirit and work of those who
hefl^rtily believe and trust a living Christ and those whose faith all centres about a
dead Christ ? Let as not underrate the value of the death of Christ, it is the
foundation of our peace with God. But the foundation is not the whole of the
temple of our faith. The cross is no more the sign of suffering, but the symbol of
victory and power. It is the royal sceptre in His hands who rules in the kingdom
which is righteousness and joy in the Holy Ghost. In this spirit of courageous
hope we are to go and teU the story of the risen Jesus. {G. M. Boynton.) The
misnon of the holy women : — Our Lord was already in His grave, but He was not
covered with earth ; He was not enclosed in a coffin, but merely lay in a recess
hollowed out of the rock, where Joseph of Arimathaea had placed Him on the
evening of Good Friday. Joseph had probably been forced to do His work hurriedly,
in order to get it done before the Sabbath came on. He had been contented with
wrapping the body in fair linen, and hastily covering it with some preparation that
might preserve the bruised and mangled flesh from the rapid corruption that might
naturally be looked for. Mary Magdalene and her companions came to complete
what Joseph had begun — to re-arrange with more care and attention to detail the
position of the body in its last resting-place, and while doing this to cover it with
such preservatives against decomposition as to ensure its integrity for many years
to come. Now, Mary Magdalene and her companions would have expected to
encounter at least one difficulty, for they had watched the burial on the evening of
Good Friday ; they had even noted how the Lord's body was laid ; they would
have observed how, under the direction of Joseph of Arimathasa, the doorway which
formed the entrance to the tomb had been closed up by a large stone, which,
spanning an opening of some four feet in height by three in breadth, could not
have been moved by fewer than two or three men. They could not hope to roU away
such a stone by themselves, and how were they, at that early hour, to procure the
necessary assistance? Their anxiety did not last long. "When they looked," says
St. Mark, "they saw that the stone was rolled away." It seems to have been
rolled into the first or outer chamber of the tomb, where the angel was sitting upon
it when he addressed the holy women. {Canon Liddon.) The Holy Sepulchre — its
interest to Christian* : — No other spot on the surface of this earth can equally rouse
Christian interest. Rome and Athens have glories all their own : they say much to
the historical imagination ; but they say little by comparison to all that is deepest
in OTir nature-^little to the conscience, little to the heart. Sinai and Horeb,
Lebanon and Hermon, Hebron and Bethel, Shechem and the Valley of the Jordan
and the Valley of the Kishon, have high claims on Jews and Christians from their
place in the history and books of the chosen people; but dearer still to us Christiana
are Bethlehem and Nazareth, and Jericho and Bethany, and Tabor and the Hill of the
Beatitudes, and Bethsaida and Capernaum, and Gethsemane and Calvary ; and yet
the interest even of these must pale before that which attracts us to the Tomb oi
Jesus. When in the Middle Ages the flower of European chivalry, and amongst
them our own King Richard, set forth on that succession of enterprises which we
know as the Crusades, the special object which roused Europe to this great and
prolonged effort was the deliverance not so much of the Holy Land, but the Holy
Sepulchre from the rule of the infidel ; and when a Christian in our day finds him-
self in the Holy City, what is it to which his eager steps first and naturally turn ?
There is much, indeed, on every side to detain him ; but one spot there is which
give!^ to the rest the importance which in his eyes they possess, and one spot com-
pared with which the site of the Temple itself is insignificant ; he must take the
advice of the Angel of the Sepulchre (Matt, xxviii. 6),— he must " come and see the
plaoe where the Lord lay." (Ibid.) Tike Holy Sepulchre— 4U appearance now :—
U
69t THE BIBLICAL 1LLV8TRAT0R. [obav. Zfl.
Under the larger of the two oapolas of the Choreh of the Holy Sepulchre in Jera>
salem, there stands what is to all appearance a chapel, twenty-six feet in length by
eighteen in breadth. It is eased in stone ; around it is a row of slender pilasters and
half oolnmns ; and at the summit is a crown>like tomb. At the east end of this
chapel a low door opens into a email square room, called the Chapel of the Angel,
because here the angel sat on the stone that had been rolled inside from the door of
the sepulchre. At the western end of this ante-chamber is another much lower
door leading into the sepulchre. The sepulchre itself is a vaulted chamber about
six feet by seven feet, and the resting-plaoe of the holy Body of our Lord is at the
right side as you enter, and is now covered with a marble slab which serves as an
altar; indeed, the sides and the floor of this sepulchral chamber are cased in
marble, which hides the rock beneath. Immediately over the slab there is a bas-
relief of the resurrection, while forty-three lamps of gold and silver hang from the
roof, and shed a brilliant light in what would be otherwise a perfectly dark vault.
No doubt it all wears a different aspect from that which met the eyes of Mwry
Magdalene. Then there was only a low, rocky ridge, the boundary of • small
suburban garden, in the face of which rock the tomb was excavated. Since then
all the ridge except that which contains the tomb itself has been cut away in order
to form a level floor for the great Church. Mary saw no incrustation of architectural
ornament, no marble, no lamps ; only a tomb of two chambers, one inside — ^the
other cut out of the face of the rock. Thus it is that, as the ages pass, human
hands, like human minds, are wont to surround whatever is most dear and precious
with creations of their own ; but, like the native rock inside the marble, the reality
remains beneath. If the surroundings are thus utterly changed, the original fipot
— the original tomb — still remains ; and if Christian pilgrims from well-nigh all
the nations of the world still seek it year by year, and if prayer and praise is almost
incessantly offered around it in rites and tongues the most various and dissimilar,
it is because its interest to the Christian heart is beyond that of any other spot on
the surface of this globe— it is "the place where the Lord lay." {Vnd.) The
Holy Sepulchre — authenticity of the site : — Can we believe, some one asks, that this
is really the place where the Body of the Lord was laid after His death ? Why not?
Christendom, east and west, has believed it, at least since a.d. 336. In that year
the first Christian Emperor Constantine completed the church which the historian
EusebiuB tells us he made up his mind to build on this spot immediately after the
Nicene Council. At its consecration a great many bishops came to Jerusalem, and
Eusebius himself among the rest ; and no doubt was entertained by them that this
was the genuine tomb of our Lord. But then the question arose. How did Con-
stantine and his bishops know that the sepulchre over which he built his church
was really the sepulchre of our Lord, and not of some one else? And one answer
which is sometimes given to this question, as by Bobinson, is, that the place was
revealed to Constantine by a miracle, and that as the miracle may at least con-
ceivably have been a pious fraud of some kind, there is no certainty that the
presumed site was the true one. Bobinson quotes a letter of Constantine to the
then Bishop of Jerusalem, in which the Emperor speaks of the gladdening discovery
of the Sign of the sacred Passion of the Bedeemer as miraculous. But ti^e allusion
in this expression is to the real or supposed finding of the wood of the Cross.
Constantine says nothing about the finding of the Sepulchre, nor is there any real
ground for thinking that it was ever discovered at all, for the simple reason that its
position had never been at all lost sight of. The wood of the Cross might well have
been buried and forgotten ; and it it was ever to be certainly identified, som«
extraordinary occurrence might be necessaiy to identify it ; but the burial-plaee of
Jesus was not likely to have been lost sight of. Constantine was not farther
removed in point of time from the date of the earthly life of our Lord, than we are
from the reign of Queen Elizabeth, and we know pretty well where most people who
attracted any public attention during her reign were buried. The Jews, like the
Egyptians, took especial care to preserve memorials of the dead. St. Peter, in his
first sermon, alludes to David's sepulchre as being " with us even to this day."
Would St. Peter, think you, or those whom he taught, have ever lost sight of the
sepultnre of "David's greater Son?" Would not each generation of Christians
have learned, and handed on to their successors, all that was known about itt
Above all, would not the great Alexandrian school, who diffused so much light and
knowledge in the first ages of the Church, have kept its eyes steadily on a matter
of some real importance like this? Even in those days a visit from Alexandria to
Jerusalem and back might hAve been easily taken, the weather being favourable, ia
. zvx.] 8T. MARK. 691
ihiee weeks; and men like Clement end Origan would have learnt, either from
personal obserration or through others, all that oonld be learnt respecting the
«zaot scene of the momentous event which was the key-stone of the religion which
they taught. Indeed, it was notorious amongst the Christians, that in the days of
the Emperor Hadrian (a.d. 132) a temple of Venus had been built on this very
spot, and this building, in something less than two centuries was finally removed by
Gonstantine, who uncovered the tomb in the rock beneath. Notwithstanding the
rain which fell upon Constantine's Church at the time of the Persian invasion, and
apon its snccessor nnder the mad Caliph El Hakim, there is no reason to think
that the site and identity of the tomb were ever lost sight of. There are, of course,
other opinions on the subject. The late Mr. Ferguson maintained with great
ftbiUty what scholars have come to consider a paradox, viz., that the site
of the Sepulchre was that of the so-called Mosque of Omar in the Temple area. A
more plausible opinion, warmly upheld by the late General Gordon, is, that it is in
a garden at the foot of the striking hill which is just outside the Gate of Damascus.
This site is so much more picturesque and imposing than the traditional one that,
had there been any evidence in its favour in Constantine's day, it would certainly
have been adopted. The old belief is likely to hold its ground unless one thing
should happen. We know that our Lord was crucified and buried outside the Gate
of Jerusalem. The Epistle to the Hebrews points out the typical importance of
His suffering ** without the gate.'* If excavations ever should show that the second
(i.e., in our Lord's day, the outer) wall of the city embraced the site of the
Sepulchre within its circuit, then it would be certain that the traditional site is not
ihe true one. At present t^ere is not much chance of these necessarily difficult
excavations being made ; and while no one can speak positively, high authorities
believe that the real direction of the second wall is that which Constantine and his
advisers took for granted. We may therefore continue to hold with our forefathers
that the chapel under the larger cupola of the Church of the Sepulchre does really
contain the place where the Lord lay. (Ibid.) The joy of Easter ;--The humilia-
tion of Jesus reached its lowest depths when He " gave up the ghost." Everything
after that moment gave symptoms of change in the current of affairs. The very
enmity which crucified Him started us heroes in His favour — Nicodemus : Joseph.
Even His descent into hell was more a thing of victory than of abasement Spirits
in prison are made sensible of a new achievement in the universe, of which He is
the hero. Angels in glory are despatched on new embassies, and mysteriously
move about the place where His Body lay. A new era breaks upon the course of
time. ** He is risen." Blessed news 1 Joyous tidings 1 Solemn wonder I Glorious
triumph 1 Well may we gather flowers for the altar, and tune our voices to exultant
songs, and call every instrument of music to our aid, to give utterance to the holy
cheer which such an occasion carries with it. /JLJ^^*™® ^ ^^^ bollino away of
soBROW FROM DISTRESSED AND LoviNO HEARTS. A death day to the tormenting dis-
tresses of human care and heart-oppressions. Believest thou the tidings? then
why afiaict thyself any longer with thy bereavements and weaknesses? Lift
ap your downcast eyes and look, and you will see that the stone is rolled
away, and greater comfort at hand than we ever imagined. Easter brings
comfort and joy to (1) the poor, (2) the suffering, (3) the^bgieayed, (4) the
fearful. Ouilt is cancelled, condemnation is past, peace with God is made.
Open thy heart to these Easter tidings, and as thou hungerest and thirsteth
after righteousness, thou shalt be satisfied. The stone is rolled away.
n«^EASTEB IB THE SETTINQ UP OF k OLOBIOUS BEFUOB FOB ASSAULTED AND ENDANOEBED
'tajth. If we have any doubts about the Divine Sonship of Jesus, or any questions
about the truthfulness of Christianity, or any disheartening scepticism about
the reahty of gospel blessings, it is because we have not done justice to the
facts of the Christian Easter. It is the impregnable fortress of our faith. There
is ndiEihg m Chnstiahity which does not there find shelter, entrenchment, vindi-
cation. The resurrection of Jesus demonstrates : 1. That Jesus was the Christ.
2. That there is another life after this. 8. That it is safe to trust in a complete
forgiveness in the merits and righteousness of Christ alone. He died as thy
substitute ; therefore the account must be settled, or he never could have thus
triumphantly been made aHve again. 4. That He is now ever with and in Hia
Church and Sacraments, there to dispense the blessings of His efficacious presence,
to breathe His Spirit on men's souls, and to make them participants in His new
life. ni. EaSTEB is the STATIONINa OF LOVING ANOBLS BOUND THE OBAVE, CONDUCT*
DM to ooiiTBBSB WITH Tsx OLOBiFiBDw Bj nato e we have no fellowship with
692 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. C<nur. Xfu
heaven, and no communion with the dwellers there. Oar sins have sundered as from
that hright and happy world. But Jesus has brought as and angels together again.
Easter has put an angel of God in every sepulchre. A higher and a better world
there joins upon this life of sorrow and tears. As the friends of Jesus come thither
with spices of love in their hands, they come into the communion of the glorified,
and begin to have converse with angelic excellence. Heaven borders on the tomb.
Another step, and the "loud uplifted angel trumpets" bid us welcome to the
mansions of the everlasting home. {J, A. Seiss, D.D.) Love*» tribute : — I. A
81'BiEiNa EXAMPLE OF CONSTANT LOVE. It is usual to regard man as typifying
strength and courage, and woman as typifying love and tenderness. But often
those who typify love and tenderness prove stronger and more courageous in the
sense of clinging constancy than those who claim to have a monopoly of the
robuEter qualities. It was certainly so here. II. Love acts pbomptly. Here love had
imposed a task upon itself, and, true to its nature, sought the earUest opportunity
for discharging it. These women could not have entered earher upon this busi-
ness. 1. Promptness to perform an act of kindness. 2. Loving service rendered
in relation to one from whom there was no prospect of a return. ILL Lovb is
OBLivions TO OBSTACLES. It forms its plans, marks its course, regards ardently its
object, but takes no account of the stones, great or small, that may be in its way.
Well for the world that love is thus characteristically blind to hindrances ; ninety-
nine out of every himdred efforts made for its welfare have been the achievements
of men who have been gloriously oblivious of the stones. Carey: Livingstone.
IV. Love neveb retreats. Ever accompanied by faith and hope, it dares to
pursue its course whatever the difficulties may appear. Y. God has angels oveb
AGAINST THE STONES THAT MAY BE IN THE PATHWAY OV LOVB. Men are UOVer Sa
angel-like as when engaged in removing hindrances oat of the way of those who
seek to serve God. (A. J, Parry.) Songs in the night: — The nightingale is
celebrated for its singing in the night. We have, however, seen it maintained that
it is all a mistake to suppose that she sings only in the night. She sings in the
day as well ; only, as other songsters are then in full chorus, her sweeter strains
are not particularly distinguishable from the rest. Bat at night, when all others
are ha^ed, her song is heard, and is more sweet by reason of the contrast with
the surroimding stillness. So it was with these women. They served in the day
of bright sunshine, but their service was then overshadowed, so to speak, by the
demonstrative crowd that thronged around the Saviour. Amidst all the marks of
attention paid Him, theirs did not appear particularly distinguishable. But when
the voice of the noisy, eHusive crowd was hushed daring the dark night of trial and
suffering which followed the brief day of popularity, they continued to give forth
the music of love and sympathy through the dark loneliness of the night. This
is love indeed, and the world needs more of it — love that will give forth the masie
of service in the night, and even at the grave of its hope. (Ibid.) Love*»
tenacity : — The little English drummer boy's apt reply to Napoleon indicates the
spirit of love in this respect. The story relates, that when the little drummer was
brought prisoner before the Emperor, he was told to sound the retreat. ** I never
learnt it," was the prompt answer. Love has never learnt to sound the retreat, or
practise it. Love is ever accompanied by faith and hope, and in their company
it always dares to pursue its course, however great may appear the odds
against it. (Ibid.) Moral strength in women : — It is a carious psychological
fact that women, though usually much weaker than men, develop, in Uie hoar ol
affliction, a wonderful degree of moral strength. They bear op under a weight
of adversity which would completely crush a man ; bat as soon as the painful ordeal
is over, then nature seems to resume its sway, and the stoic of a few momenta
before melts into a flood of tears, and gives herself up to a season of uncontrollable
weeping. Just as the stately oak affords an impervious shelter from the pouring
tempest ; but so soon as the fury of the storm is past, and the sun shines out again
from behind the clouds, then the slightest touch brings the great raindrops rattling
to the ground. Hence we are not surprised that these three women came witS
tearless eyes to anoint our Saviour's body. Their hearts were sore with grief, but
theirs was a depth of woe that fonnd no relief in weeping. {J, E. Johnson.)
The ttone of death rolled away : — " They saw that the stone had beeen rolled
away." How I love to dwell upon these words ; they are so full of comfort to
every stricken soaL There is not only a great beauty, but there is a profound
significance in them. The mass of men at that time beHeved that, when a
died, that was the end of him ; he was indeed dead — ^he was annihilated. It
zn.] 8T, MARK, MS
ft eommon enstom among the Romans to heap great piles of rough rocks upon the
grayes of the dead, as though they would bind them down to the only scene of
their existence. Men everywhere shrank with terror from the grave, and the
thought of death filled them with horror. On Easter eve, nearly nineteen cen-
turies ago, the fear of death rested like an immense rock upon the great heart of
humanity, but on Easter mom that weight of fear and dread was rolled away, and
a risen Saviour proclaimed to the world the glorious fact of an immortal existence.
(Ibid.) The import of death : — The complexion of our rehgious thought depends
upon the view we take of death. This life is but the foreground of that which ia
to oome, and death is the narrow bridge upon which we pass from one state of
existence to another ; or, rather, it is our initiation into the hidden mysteries of
the future. The initiatory ceremony is attended with some pain, it is true ; but, as
in ancient times, when a king wished to raise a brave man to knighthood, he struck
him lightly with a sword, and then pronounced him noble : even so, death is but
the soft sword-touch by which the Eternal King elevates His faithful servant to the
knight-errantry of heaven. There is, in the German, a beautiful fable whieh repre-
sencB the angel of slumber wandering over the earth in company with the angel of
death. As the evening draws near they approach a village and encamp upon one
of its hills, Ustening to the curfew as it tolls the knell of parting day. At last the
sounds cease, profound silence reigns round about, and the dark mantle of night
covers the earth. Now the angel of sleep rises from her bed of moss, and, stepping
forward to the brink of the height, silently scatters the unseen seeds of slumber.
The evening wind noiselessly wafts them out over the habitations of weary men.
Sweet sleep settles down upon all the inhabitants of the village, and overcomes
them all, from the old man who nods in his chair to the infant resting in its cradle.
The sick forget their pain ; the afidicted their anguish : even pover^ is oblivious
of its wants. All eyes are closed. After her task has been performed, the angel of
slumber turns to her sister and says : " When the morning sun appears, all these
people will praise me as their benefactor and friend. How delightful it is to go
about doing good so silently and all unseen 1 What a beautiful calling we have t "
Thus spoke the angel of sleep ; but the angel of death gazed upon her in silent
sorrow, and a tear, such as the undying shed, stood in her eye. *' Alas 1 " said she,
** I cannot rejoice like you in the gratitude of men. The earth calls me its enemy,
and the destroyer of its peace." " O my sister," replied the angel of slumber,
** at the great awakening of the resurrection morning the souls of the blessed will
recognize you as their friend and benefactor. Are we not sisters, and the mes-
sengers of our common Father? " They ceased to speak, but the eyes of the death-
angel glistened with tears as they bo^ fled out into the darkness of the night.
(Ibid.) Hope in death: — Visitors to the catacombs at Borne never fail to observe
the inscriptions over the graves of those early Christians who, escaping from per-
secution, took refuge in these subterranean abodes. Their friends inscribed over
their resting-plaoe these blessed words, ** Requiescat in pace " — "Best in peace."
Sometimes they added an anchor, which was a favourite emblem with them — ^the
symbol at once of their tempestuous lot, and of the calm trust with which it was
borne. {Ibid.) Reunion after the resurrection: — It you have taken a sail, on a
pleasant day, down the harbour of some great city by the sea, you have seen there,
perhaps, a noble ship sailing up the bay. All her canvas is set, and shines brightly
in the sun. Her crew crowd the rail, and earnestly gaze at the familiar landscape.
Here they are at last. They have been round the world, or in search of whale in
the Arctic Ocean. At times, during their absence, it seemed as though this hour
would never come. In the night when the waves tossed their ship, when the wind
whistled through the rigging, and the blocks and cords were covered with ice, they
thought of home and loved ones, but long years must elapse before they could
return, and hope sunk utterly in their bosom. Now, however, it is all over ; the
pain is passed ; their eyes are rejoiced once more with the sight of their native land,
and, as the ship draws near the shore, they eagerly scan the faces on the pier —
fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, little ones, and friends have oome down to
welcome them. The vessel is made fast, a plank is thrown to the land, they step
upon it, pass over, and all hearts rejoice in the present gladness. No one thinks of
the past ; the anguish of parting is forgotten ; the long separation fades into a brief
moment ; all is bliss. My friends, this is but a figure. We are the crew of that
▼essel, Jeans is the Captain, life is the long voyage upon which we are all embarked,
~ the landing is that glorious moment when we shall all be united beyond the
ditfk ooean of eternity. And may we not see in those who stand upon the
694 TEE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, (eair. zn.
pier, and scan, with eager, earnest gaze, the faces on the ship, that throng ol
friends who await U£ on the other side f (Ibid.) Angelt in graves ;— It is very
pleasant to note how the ministering angels gather round death and the grave.
There is the supporting angel, in what we may truly call the dying agony of
Gethsemane. There are the angels who waited to waft the soul set free to that
inner heaven, familiar, in Hebrew imagery, as Abraham's bosom. There is the
angel of the resurrection, who takes away the bar, and lets out the prisoners of
hope. And still, even in the empty grave, tarrying there as if he loved it, there i«
an angel— strong, beautiful, and fresh as a young man — ^pure, and bridal, and
modest in his long white robe. And why should I put such a difference between
the Head and the members as to think that Jesus' tomb was so tenanted, and that
mine is empty? Why should that have such sweet company, and a Christian's
grave be solitary f Or why should that be shrouded, in our imagination, in dark-
ness and gloom, which is so beautiful and so attractive to those heavenly visitors ?
{Jamet Vaughan^ M.A,)
Ver. 3. They came unto the sepulchre at the rising of the srm.— T^ sedulity
of the devout women : — Consider their sedulity — sedulity that admits no intermis-
sion, no interruption, no discontinuance, no indifference in religious offices. Con-
sider we therefore their seduUty, if we can. I say, if we can ; because if a man
should sit down at a beehive or an ant-bill, and determine to watch such an ant or
such a bee in its work, he would find that bee or that ant so sedulous, so serious,
BO various, so concurrent with others, so contributary to others, as that he would
quickly lose his marks and his sight of that ant or that bee. ^ So, if we fix our
consideration upon these devout women, and the sedulity of their devotion, as the
several evangelists present it to us, we may easily lose our sight, and hardly know
which was which, or at what time she or she came to the sepulchre. " They came,
in the end of the Sabbath, as it began to dawn toward the first day of the week,"
says St. Matthew ; ♦* they came very early in the morning, the first day of the week,
at the rising of the sun," says St. Mark ; " they prepared their spices, and rested
the Sabbath, and came early the next day," says St. Luke ; ♦♦ they came the first
day when it was yet dark," says St John. From Friday evening till Sunday morn-
ing they were sedulous, busy upon this service; so sedulous, that Athanasius
thinks these women came four several times to the sepulchre, and that the four
evangelists have relation to their four comings, and Jerome argues that this variety
is no sign of untruthfulness in the evangelists, but testifies the sedulity of the
women they speak of, going and coming, and unwilling to be far distant or long
absent from their devout exercise. Beloved, true devotion is a serious, a sedulous,
an impatient thing. He who said, *• I fast twice in the week," was but a Pharisee ;
he who can reckon his devout actions is no better ; he who can tell how often be
has thought upon God to-day, has not thought upon Him often enough. It is
St. Augustine's holy circle, " to pray that we may hear sermons profitably, and to
hear sermons that we may learn to pray acceptably." Devotion is no marginal note,
no interlineary gloss, no parenthesis that may be left out ; it is no occasional
thing, no conditional thing : •• I will go if I like the preacher, the place, the com-
pany, the weather ; " but it is of the body of the text, and lays upon ni an oblige*
tion of fervour and continuance. {John Donne, D,D,)
Vers. 3, 4. Who shaU roll us away the stone 1—The death unto $in : — So said the
women who came to see Christ, who had died upon the cross. Are they the
last who have had the like fears on a like occasion ? Has not every Christian who
has set himself in earnest to the work of foUowing Christ in His death been alarmed
at an equal difficulty ? Are not many frightened at the very outset of their course f
I. The stone at the doob. Surely no one who understands anything of the nature
of his Christian profession expects to maintain it without trial of his strength ; he
that seeks Christ crucified and dead for sin, sees that he has first of all to roll away
the stone from the sepulchre. This exclamation of the women is continually the
cry of our weak nature, of the old man within us who is of littie faith, and sees not
that the finger of God is stronger than the arm of man. And to our natural weak-
ness the devil adds his wiles to add to our perplexities. 1. To seek Christ as dead
for our sins is to resolve to forsake tiiem, and to follow Him to His sepulchre with
the earnest desire and full determination of crucifying some sinful affection and
resisting some evil inclination or purpose. 2. When a man begins to attempt tiiif
a ftroggle ensues, and he discovers his own weakness. Every sin, every infirmity.
n.] 8T, MARK, 695
pleads to be heard before it be omed off from his service. Who demands from you
snob a sonrender of your former habits ? Are yon to live a life of continnal struggle ?
Is watching onto righteoosness as pleasant as sleeping in sin ? Is swimming against
the flood of ungodliness as easy as swimming with it f Is a distant prize, which
you may miss, to be preferred to one at hand wliich is certain? So says the law of
sin, and thus, with all his desire to follow Christ unto His death and burial, he is at
the same time tempted with a number of hindrances which seem effectually to block
up the way, and if he feels the spirit to be willing, he also feels the flesh to be weak.
He begins to despair of strength to remove them, and asks in his despondency,
•♦ Who shall roll me away the stone from the door of the sepulchre, that I may see
and find Christ crucified for me ? " H. The stone bollbd away. 1. As the women
who uttered these words had no sooner spoken them than they saw that the stone
was already rolled away, so it befalls every one who through the sincere purpose of
the death unto sin, seeks Christ crucified. Those hindrances, which his weak un-
assisted nature never could so much as hope to remove, are rolled away by the arm
of the power of God. If he feels the power of the death of his Saviour, he feels also
the glorious power of His resurrection; he is enabled by the grace of God to over-
come all the hindrances and stones of offence which before seemed so great and
dificult of removal. 2. Many there are who would rather forsake a course of care-
lessness and forgetfulness of God ; they see its foUy and unreasonableness ; they
perceive in what it must end ; but they have not the resolution to free themselves.
They no sooner see the sepulchre of Christ, and the spot where they must become
partakers in His death by dying to their besetting sin, than they give up the trial,
crying out that the thing is impossible. But this would not be so if they accom-
panied hearty prayer to the Lord with hearty endeavours at removing the hindrances
from the way. Let them begin to practise with the lighter ones, with overcoming,
e.p., the habit of frivolous excuses, which is so general an obstacle to a consistent
course. When a man has once overcome one ever so frivolous, he is prepared for over-
coming one more serious. And when he has overcome it, he is quite astonished and
ashamed that he should ever for a moment have yielded to it. He is thenceforward
convinced that all the rest are not at all more serious and substantial, and goes to
work with them, with the strong hand of a just indignation at having been so be-
fooled and perilled by them ; and thus, under the grace of God, his faith becomes
strong enough to remove mountains. {R. W. Evans^ M.A.) Fear exaggerating
danger : — When the first ironclad vessel was used in naval warfare, the news of its
victory sent a panic through the Federal rulers. At a cabinet meeting called on
receipt of the news, Mr. Stanton, the Secretary of State, said : ** This will change
the whole character of the war ; she will destroy seriatim every naval vessel ; she
will lay all the cities on the seaboard under contribution. Port Boyid must be
abandoned ; the governors and authorities must take instant measures to protect
their harbours." Looking out of the window, which commanded a view of the
Potomac for many miles, he said, *' Not unlikely, we shall have a shell or cannon-
ball from one of her guns in the White House before we leave this room." Mr.
Seward, usually buoyant and self-reliant, was overwhelmed with the intelligence,
and listened in responsive sympathy to Stanton ; he was greatly depressed, as,
indeed, were all the members. Needless fears : — The trouble we expect scarcely
ever comes. How much pain the evils cost us that have never happened I {George
Moore.) Difficulties are phantoms : — There is a beautiful tradition among the
American Indians that Manaton was travelling in the invisible world, and that he
came upon a hedge of thorns, and after a while he saw wild beasts glare upon him
from the thicket, and after a while he saw an impassable river ; but, as he determined
to proceed, and did go on, the thorns turned to phantoms ; the wild beasts a power-
less ghost ; the river, only the phantom of a river. And it is the simple fact of our
lives that the vast majority of the obstacles in our way disappear when we march
upon them. {Dr. Talmage.) How to deal with difficulties : — ^Dr. Raleigh used tt)
tell of an old Scotch minister who, when he came to a peculiarly difficult passage of
Scripture, woidd say to his people, •♦ No doubt, my brethren, there is great difficult v
here; all the commentators are agreed upon that; so let us look the difficulty
boldly in the face, and — pass on 1 " Help from above : — It much perplexed these
women how they should roll away the tombstone, and so purchase the sight of their
beloved Master ; but He that has given His angels charge over His children, that
they hurt not their foot against a stone, sent a messenger from heaven to roll back
that huge stone for them. Even as a loving father, when ho carries his little child
10 Uie town, wUl let him alone to walk in the ilain and fair way ; but, when ht
59e TEE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap. Xfl.
eomeB to slippery paths, he takes him by the hand, and in dirty passages bears him
in his arms, and, when he comes to a stile, gently lifts him over; so God, out
heavenly Father, uses His dear children. If they endeavour to go as far as they
may in the ways of His commandments, so fast as they can in the way to the celes-
tial Jerusalem, He will assist them in danger, and help them over stiles of dis*
couragement ; take away all rubs of offence, remove all blocks and hiudrances in
their passage ; and the very great stone parting Christ and them, even while they
least think of it, shall be rolled away. {Dean Boys,) The opened sepulchre : —
Beneath Westminster Abbey is an old cloister which for centuries was used as the
burial-place of the early kings. There, in their stone sarcophagi, are the remains
of the Saxon sovereigns, some of them over twelve hundred years entombed. It ia
related that one day, a few years since, a visitor, who had wandered into this vault,
was locked in. He did not notice as the door swung together. The janitors were
busy. The usual throng of visitors was in the spacious building. No one heard
the muffled voice which began to cry from the cloister, or the muffled blows which
began to beat upon its oaken door. The afternoon passed away. What that im-
prisoned man suffered, as it gradually grew upon him that he was buried alive, who
can know ? At the usual hour the janitor made his evening rounds, before closing
the building for the night. The entombed man heard him as his footsteps came
near, then retreated, came near again, then, finally receding, grew fainter and
fainter, and died away at length in the distance. What imagination can conceive
his agony 1 He redoubled his cries. He shrieked. He dashed himself wildly
against the solid door. In vain. Now he thought he heard the distant entrance-
doors creak on their hinges, and the key pushed into the great iron lock. In •
moment more the vast tomb would be closed for the night. Fortunately, before
turning the key, the janitor paused a moment and listened. He thought he heard
dull blows, faint and far away, a sound as of stifled, agonizing cries. He listened
more intently. A horrible thought suggested itself to his mind : " Some one ia
locked into the cloister." He hastened to the place, threw open the heavy oaken
door, and held his lantern up to see. The buried man had fallen senseless upon
the stone floor. He was rescued just in time to save his reason. Were it not for
the resurrection of Jesus Christ, we men had been like that poor wretch, helplessly
and hopelessly beating against the bolted door of a living tomb. Some tell as that
Christ came to influence men, to draw us to God, to make an effectual appeal to
men by His life and His death to repent and imitate Him. Is this all ? we ask.
We lay away our friends, and over the coffin and the tomb we say : •• Jesus is the
Resurrection and the Life." If He is not ; if He is dead ; then we ask in awe-struck
dread: "Who shall roll us away the stone?" Christ came to bring life and
immortality to light. What hope could we have if He still lay in His grave T What
would this earth then be but the eternal grave and ohamel-honse of the human
race ? (G. R. Leavitt.) The stone was rolled away. — The door unlocked : — Some
time since we wished to enter a strange church with a minister, a little before the
time for service. We procured a key, but tried in vain to unlock the outside door
with it. We concluded we had brought the wrong key, so sent to the janitor for the
right one. But he came and told us that the door was already unlocked. All we had
to do was to push, and the door would open. We thought ourselves locked out»
when there was nothing but that mistaken thought to hinder us from entering. In
the same way we fail to enter into love and fellowship with God. The door, wo
think, is locked against us. We try to fit some key of extraordinary faith to open
it. We try to get our minds wrought up to some high pitch of feeling. We say, " I
have the wrong key; I must feel more sorry ; I must weep more." Aiid all the time
the door is ready to open. If we but come boldly, with humble earnestness, to the
throne of grace, we may enter at once, without having to unlock the door. Christ
is the door, and His heart is not shut against us. We must enter without stopping
to fit our key of studied faith, for His mercy is not locked up. We must enter
boldly, trustingly, not doubting His readiness to receive us just as we are. He is
willing already, and we must not stop to make Him willing by our prayers or our
tears. (Anon,) Sunshine in a shady place: — The place where Jesus lay was
a dark spot to His disciples. Little did they know that speedily He was to leave
that grave, victor over death, and that heaven's rare sonshine should come
to that shady place. Yet so it was. Other captains may gather laurels from
a hundred fields, their very names may be proverbs of conquest ; but when they
lie in the narrow house appointed for iJl living, they cease from fight, and
no mora oonquests are in store for then. Not so was it with the Captain 6i our
>. zn.] 8T. MARK. 697
salvation. His greatest viotory was gained in the grave and over it. Every hour of
His life yielded ^e palm to that in which He rose from death. I. Christ's bisino
WAS TO HiB DISCIPLES THB BKSUBBECTioN OF HOPB. 1. It proved to them the accep-
tance of His atonement. 2. It was to them a verification of aU His claims. 11.
Christ's bisno was to His disciplbs thb besubrection or coubaob. What changed
men they were after Easter Day ! The craven deserters were thereafter bold as
lions. III. Christ's Bisroo was to His disciples the resubrectiom of RELioions
AOTmTY. Till He rose, their activities were paralyzed. When He rose, how they
began to preach the gospel of the grace of God ; and, more than all besides, they
preached not Jesus and the cross, but " Jesus and the resurrection " — the empty
sepulchre, rather than the uplifted cross. {George T. Coster.) Empty sepulchres : —
1. There are some sepulchres from which we would not desire to roll the stone
•way. The past has many suoh sepulchres. In that past there is a sepulchre in
which corpses lie — corpses of sinful facts ; corpses of broken vows ; corpses of old
hates ; corpses of old loves. Oh 1 that we could never see them more. Oh 1 that
we could forget their very names. 2. But there is another sepulchre of the past
where there do lie some things very sweet, holy, and precious. We long to live
these memories over again. We long to walk again, hand in hand, with childlike
trust, beside the Oahlean lake, or climb the Judean mount with one who lies asleep
and has gone into the memory-sepulchre. Let us keep our spices ready. When
the bitter Sabbath which has followed the sorrowful interment shall have passed,
there will be an Easter morn, and as we run sobbing to the sepulchre we shall see
the splendours of the face and hear the music of the voice of our risen and immortal
Lord. {Dr. Deems.) Love takes us to Jesus : — It is not my work to roll away the
•tone, but it is my duty to go to the grave. Nay, we will not talk of duty. Love
sends me to Jesus, living or dead. My love does that. His love will see that the
stone is rolled away, llbid.) Love works for faith : — It is said that love is blind.
I do not beheve it. Love is full of eyes. The sharp-eyed intellect — that Poly-
phemus of the brain which has only one eye — may miss many a thing. Even
cunning, that carries a calcium lamp, may fail to see many a thing. But love will
;ee all. Love is the highest philosophy. Love is the eyes of faith. Love is the
hand of faith. Be not faithless, and then you will not be loveless nor blind. {Ibid.)
The power of the resurrection : — The facts of our religion are, when rightly appre-
ciated, so many moral forces for the soul, incorporating ideas which give courage
and gladness, and containing principles which are at the root of conduct and life.
Pre-eminent among them all is the resurrection. Faith in this is the one and only
force that adequately enables us to roll away the stones that encounter us in the
struggles of life. What St. Paul calls the "power" of the resurrection is for all of
as the mighty secret of a steady triumph over temptation, difficulty, and sorrow.
I. Thx besubrection is A POWER TO HEAL coNscncNCB. Looking back upon the cross
and forward to the ascension, it tells us both of pardon and righteousness. U. The
BESUBRECTION IS A PowzB TO ENNOBLs DUTY. In its light life is secu to be worth
living, for the stone of a purposeless and brief existence is rolled away, and with its
new aims, responsibilities, functions, and motives, this life on earth has a new
meaning and force. There is its stupendous responsibility, for some day we shall rise
to receive the things done in our body, t.e., their results, whether they be good or bad.
There is its universal jurisdiction. For the resurrection of the race, like its ineyi'
table mortality, is generically bound np with the resurrection of its Head (1 Cor.
XV. 22). There is its potential grace (Col. iii. 1). There is its majestic consecration
(Bom. xii. 1). III. Thb besubrection is a poweb to explain death. It shows as
that death is not the end of our journey, only a stage in it. Because Christ lives,
we shall live also. We have each of as to go down alone to the brink of the river,
and to leave behind as all we have ever known and possessed and loved, and to pass
into another condition of which we have no kind of experience, and most probably
to abandon schemes but half completed, and lessons but scantily learned. Yet in
the world to which we go, there will be leisure enough in the great spaces of eternity
to mellow and develop in that land which needeth not sun or moon to lighten it,
the gems of thought and action which we sowed here. IV. Thb besubbection is a
rowEB TO console sorrow. {Bishop Th/)rold,) Courage rewarded : — Scipio
▲fricanns besieged a city in Spain weM fortified every way, and wanting nothing,
and no hope did appear to take it. In the meantime Scipio heard many causes
pleaded before him, and put off one before it was ended, to be heard three days
after ; and, being asked by his officers where he would keep his next court, be
pointed to the chief citadel of the besieged city, and told them he woald hear th«
C98 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOB, [CBir. xn.
canse there. In that space he became master of the town, and did as be had
appointed. He was not more confident to enter into a city fortified against him, by
his valour, than these women were to enter by faith into a sepulchre sealed and shut
up, but the Lord is present with courageous attempts, and He sent His angel to
assist them. (Bishop Racket.) The rolled stone : — The angel was present on thif
occasion for — 1. A witness. The empty sepulchre confirmed his words. 2. A pre-
paration. They were soon to see the Lord in His glorious resurrection-body. 8. A
pledge. Peace established between heaven and earth. A new and sweet commnnion
opened. 4. A help. They could not have moved the stone without assistance. God
always aids those who seek to go onwards in the path of duty. An angel is ever by
holy places — thoughts — words — works, leading us upwards to higher gifts. (Af. Fdber.)
The question of the bereaved heart answered : — I. Why wastherb kveb ▲ sbpulohbb
ON EABTH ? A Bepulchre tells of sorrow, sickness, bereavement, death. " By one
man sin entered into the world, and death by sin." II. Why was thbrb a sepuiiOhbb
FOB Jesus? To remove all doubt as to the reality of His death. IIL Why was
THAT STONB PUT THERE ? St. Matthew gives the reason. The very means by which
they hoped to prevent the resurrection, were made the occasion of more glorious
triumph. Thus did God cause the wrath of man to praise Him, and the plottings
of enemies to give the strongest proofs of His resurrection. IV. Who bollbd that
STONE AWAY, AND FOB WHAT PURPOSE ? Had the Lord rolled it away it would have been
said that He was not dead, but only in a state of trance. We must not weep as if
we had no one to roll away the stone from the sepulchre. The grave will hold our
bodies but a little while. {Bishop Stevens.) Imaginary difficulties: — We may
note some important lessons which this incident teaches. 1. That gloomy forebod-
ings should never prevent us from doing our duty. 2. That those who talk of diffi-
culties, have frequently but little knowledge of the actual state of affairs. 8. That
difficulties, as difficulties, are sometimes more imaginary than real. I. Thb isabs
OF AN AWAKENED 8INNEB. Thcse Bxc represented in the earnest inquiry of the woman.
Whence these fears ? 1. They may be due to want of thorough knowledge of God's
character. 2. That men who are exceedingly anxious in reference to any matter ait
prone to dwell upon the dark side. Let as look at the different forms which these
fears assume. 1. The awaked sinner sometimes doubts the readiness of God to
receive him, 2. Fears that he can never lead a godly life. 3. Fears that he wiU
never be ready for heaven. II. That thxsb feabs abb oboundless. This is repre-
sented in the fact recorded here. Note — 1. That difficulties are oftentimes advan-
tages. 2. t)ifficulties generally dwindle away as we grapple with them. 8. God has
abundantly provided against every difficulty. (D. Rowlands, B,A.) Difficulties
removed : — Prospective difficulties in the path of duty, persons often find removed
when they come to the place of meeting them. Tlus may be inferred — L Fbom
the expebience of God's people. Instance Abraham, Moses, the Israelites in the
time of Joshua and Esther, the three Hebrews, Daniel, (&c., the apostles and primi-
tive Christians, Ac. U. From the promises of God. 1. The promises of God
should not inspire as with a false confidence, blind us to the consequences of our
conduct, or render us remiss in endeavours to know the will of God. We may be pre-
sumptuous in our reliance on the government and promises of God. 2. God has, in the
Scriptures, given assurance of a special providence over those who obey His commands.
3. Professors of religion have suffered much in peaoe of mind, and in efficiency of
Christian character, because, by apparent difficulties in prospect, they have been
deterred from going forward in duty, when, had they trusted in God and gone for-
ward, they would not have experienced the difficulties anticipated. 4. Where God
directs, there go. What God commands, that do. (G. A, Calhoun,) Hindrances
removed : — I. Look hobs OABEFUiiLY and minutely at thx nabbatitb. Costly were the
spices brought by Nicodemus, costlier than they could buy ; but the first anointing
was hurried, the time before Jewish Sabbath so brief. With women's eyes they saw
defects, deplored hasce. They would anoint carefully. Love prompted resolution ;
love is often oblivious of hindrances. They had not thought of the stone which the
combined strength of many had rolled into its place. II. Thb nabbativb spkaks to
U8 OM THIS Easter Day of— 1. A work of love. (1) Love prompted the purchase of
spices; the preparation, the early journey to tomb.' Jjove compelled them with sweet
compulsion. (2) Love to Christ has led to greatci: sacrifices, more toilsome work ;
e.g., love led St. Paul to give up all things ; St. Peter to go to prison and onto death.
Motive power of all trae work for Christ, love. 2. The cause of that love. (1) Maiy
Magdalene loved Christ as her Deliverer, Emancipator. Mary the mother of James,
and Salome the mother of James and John, loved Him becaose of what He had beec
osAT. m.] ST. MARK,
to their sons m well as to themselves. (2) We love Him because He first loved ns.
S. The hindrances which seem to be in the way of performing the work of love.
Many great stones in oar way. [1) Our ignorance, incompetency, insufficiency. (2)
The world's sin, indifference, distrust, sorrow. (3) The formality of the Church,
lack of unity and love. (4) Other hindrances of which we may be as ignorant as
women were of seal and guard. *♦ Who is sufficient for these things ? " Who shall
roll these stones away ? 4. These hindrances are more than removed if we go on
in spite of them. The stone was rolled away, and the Lord was risen. A living
present Saviour our strength and joy. {J. M. Blackie, LL.B,) Symbol of the
returrection : — A monument erected to the memory of a Spanish lady was of pecu-
liar and happy design. It represented a full-sized marble coffin, with the lid burst
open, revesting the pltuse where the body had lain. A Bible and a cross lay in the
vacant place upon the grave-clothes, and on the inside of the half -raised lid these
words were graven : ** Non est hie, ted resurrexit,** {Burritt,)
Yer. 6. They saw a joxaig man sitting on the right side. — Perpetual youth : —
Very remarkable that this super-human being should be described as a " young
man." Immortal youth, with buoyant energy and fresh power, belongs to angeUc
beings, and to the children of the resurrection, who are to be " equal unto the
angels.*' No waste decays their strength, no change robs them of forces which have
ceased to increase. Age cannot wither them. L The lipb of the faitefcl dead
IS BTKBMAL PBOOBBSs TowABDS iKFiNiTE PEBrECTioN. Their being uevcr reaches its
climax ; it is ever but entering on its glory. Their goal is the likeness of God in
Christ— all His wisdom. His love. His holiness. He is all theirs, and all that He is
is to be transfused into their growing greatness. They rise like the song-bird, aspiring
to the heavens, circling round, and ever higher, up and up through the steadfast
blue to the sun 1 They shall lose the marks of age as they grow in eternity, and they
who have stood before the throne the longest shall be likest him who sat in the
sepulchre young with immortal strength, radiant with unwithering beauty. II. Thx
liZVB OW THE FAITHrXTL DEAD BBCOVEBS AND BXTAINS THE BEST CHABACTEBI8TIC8 OF
YOUTH. 1. Hope. No more disappointments ; a boundless future of blessedness.
2. Keenness of relish. The pleasures of heaven always satisfy, but never cloy.
8. Fervour of love. Zeal such as that of the seraphs, that have burned before
the throne nnconsumed and undecaying for unknown ages. 4. Buoyant energy.
All that maturity and old age took away, is given back in nobler form. All
the limitation and weakness which they brought, the coldness, monotony, torpor,
weariness, will drop away; but we shall keep all the precious gifts they brought — calm
wisdom, ripened Imowledge, full-summed experience, powers of service acquired in
life's long apprenticeship. The perfect man in the heavens will include the graces
of childhood, the energies of youth, the steadfastness of manhood, the calmness of
old age ; as on some tropical trees you may see at once bud, blossom, fruit — the ex-
pectanoy of spring, the maturing promise of summer, and the fulMed fruition of
autumn — hanging together on the unexhausted bough. lU. The fatthtul dead
SHALL LIVE IN A BODY THAT CANNOT OBow OLD. No wcarincss. Needing no repose.
No death (1 Cor. xv. 42-44 ; 2 Cor. v. 1-4; Rev. vii. 13-17). {A. Maclaren, D.D.)
Youth in heaven : — If all this be true, that glorious and undecaying body shall then
be the equal and fit instrument of the perfected spirit, not, as it is now, the adequate
instrument only of the natural life. The deepest emotions then will be capable of
expression — nor, as now, like some rushing tide, choke the floodgates through whose
narrow aperture they try to press, and be all tossed into foam in the attempt. All
outward things shall then be fully and clearly communicated to the spirit ; that
glorious body will be a perfect instrument of knowledge. All that we desire to do we
shall then do, nor be longer tortured with tremulous hands that can never draw the
perfect circle we plan, and stammering lips that will not obey the heart, and throb-
mg brain that will ache when we would have it dear. The young spirit shall have
for true yokefellow a body that cannot tire, nor grow old, nor die. The aged saints
of God shall rise then, in youthful beauty. More than the long- vanished comeliness
shall then rest on faces that were here haggard with anxiety, and pinched with
penury and years. No more palsied hands, no more scattered grey hairs, no more
dim and homy eyes, no more stiffened muscles and slow-throbbing hearts. ** It is
sown in weakness ; it is raised in power." It is sown in decaying old age ; it is
raised in immortal youth. His servants shall stand in that day among *' the young-
eyed cherubim," and be like them for ever. {Ibid.) The presence of the angel : —
Here is one keeper more than the Jews looked for about our Saviour's sepulchre, one
rOO THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap, xn.
more than Pilate appointed. One mighty prince of that anpemal host, whose coun-
tenance was able to daunt a legion of the best Roman soldiers ; perhaps there was
a multitude with him to celebrate the resurrection, as there was a multitude that
appeared in the fields of Bethlehem to rejoice at Christ's Nativity. But this angel,
I may say determinately, was one of the most royal spirits that stand before the
face of God for ever. How sweetly the eternal wisdom did dispose to let an angel show
himself openly at this place of the grave, and upon the celebration of this great day t
1. Those ministering spirits had been attendants upon all the parts of our Saviour's
humility ■ good reason they should be occupied upon all occasions of His exaltation
and glory 2. The women came out with confidence to embalm Christ's body, without
considering how many difficulties were in their way ; such difficulties as could never
have been mastered if the angel had not been sent to facilitate all things for them.
3. The presence of the angel showed that He who had been buried there was God
as well as man ; for angels were as officious at the sepulchre as they use to be in
heaven, which is the throne of God. 4. If not an angel, who else would be believed
in so great a matter as this ? Tell me, who could give testimony beside that would
be credited ? The disciples were never so tardy to conceive, never so unapprehen-
sive in anything else as in this 1 They knew not as yet what the rising from the
dead did mean. 5. It is in effect a promise that we shall be exalted after death to
the society of angels. 6. Angels desire to be present at everything wherein man-
kind is benefited, that they may rejoice with us. No envy, no malignity in them,
that we shall be made perfect in both parts of nature, both in body and soul, and
80 in that respect exceed them who are only spiritual substances. {Bishop Hacket.)
Yen. 6, 7. He Is risen; He Is not here. — The words of an angel : — Here we have
the first gospel sermon preached after the gospel had been finished on the cross,
and sealed by the fact of the resurrection. Not a sentence that dropped from the
speaker's Hps by accident; nor are its words mere words that came uppermost, as
though some other words might have done as well. They hold the germ of which
the preaching of all true evangelists is but the expansion. I. The fibst title
UMDEB WHICH ChBIST WAS PBOCLAIMED BT A BIESSENOEB PBOM HEAVEN AFTEB HIS
cBuciFixioN. 1. Jesus. The name given at the annunciation. Now it is fulfilled.
He has saved His people from their sins. Henceforth this name shall be above
every name. All through our life in time let us sing with Bernard, " This name is
sweetness in the mouth, music in the ear, joy in the heart;" and all through our
life in eternity let as expect to penetrate deeper and deeper into the soul of its
beauty, and glory, and meaning. 2. Jesus of Nazareth. A lowly title, despised by
men. 3. Jesus of Nazareth, whieh was crucified. Words used among men to
express contempt, an angel is proud to use ; and the last phrase of degradation
which His enemies fiung at Him on earth was the first title under which He is pro-
claimed by a flaming prophet from heaven. IL The »ibst notice or Chbist's
BEsuBBECTioN. Christ's rcsurrection is — 1. A mystery. 2. A miracle. 8. A victory
over death. 4. A fulfilment of His promise. (C Stanford^ D.D.) The angeVt
1 words : — I. This message brings to as the glad tidings that He who onoe died fob
^\Aja NOW LIVES FOB US. For the sake of convenience in the presentation of thought,
we may be permitted to speak of Christ's death as having two aspects in its saving
efficacy — a heavenward and an earthward aspect, — and we assert that its power in
both directions depends upon the truth that He is risen. 1. The heavenward
aspect. Our benefit, in this direction, from the death of Christ, depends on cor
trust in Him, and not on oar ability to explain precisely what His death has done.
We know, at any rate, that it has done all that was necessary, and that not only
has He died, but also risen again. His resurrection, sanctioned by the seal of law
and all the pomp of heaven, gave to His redeeming Etct the most pubhc and solemn
satisfaction. 2. The earthward aspect. He who is our Saviour must be our
Saviour every day, and our Saviour in every place ; our Saviour from Satan, from
the world, and from ourselves. Not only must we, by the heavenward efficacy of
His death, have the forgiveness of sins; but, by its earthward efficacy have Him
with as as a living presence, ever at work by "the renewing of the Holy Ghost."
Some time ago the agents of Anti-Christianity placed posters about London, on
doors, on walls, and on wooden fences, advertising the question, " Will faith in a
dead man save you ? " If , as thus insinuated, the Christian faith is hke this, then
Christianity is a shock to common sense. Dead Hampden will not take a hand
against tyranny; dead Milton will not sing; dead WelUngton will not fight; dead
Wilberf oroe will not work for the emancipation of slaves in the Soadan ; a dead
cmuf, XTi.] ST. MARK. 701
lawyer will not save yon from legal complications; a dead doctor will not save yon
{rem the grasp of fever; and just as fantastic, and jast as insane, is the conception
of salvation by faith in a dead Saviour — a Saviour who is behind eighteen centuries,
ft Saviour who was crucified but of whom we have been told nothing more. With-
out the resurrection all the gospel would collapse, as an arch would collapse without
ihe key-atone. 11. The obavb is the only place where the tbus beeeebs of
l/ Jbsus mat mot ron) Hiu. 1. "He is not here " : this will not apply to heaven.
2. •* He is not here '* : this will not apply to any earthly solitude. 3. •* He is not
here*' : this will not apply to the walks of human life. A Christian may say of his
place of business, " Here I pass most of my life ; this is my soul's battlefield ; and
will Christ leave me to fight my battles alone ? " Never 1 " Here, in my commercial
life," one may say, •' Chnst is with me, quickening my conscience, and holding my
soul in life, while I seem to be only deaUng with questions of material, colour, and
shape; or with distinctions of weight and currency; or with tables of value, or
calculations of outlay, or rates of exchange." It is an axiom of sanctified reason
and a sovereign article of faith, that Christ most is — where Christ is most wanted ;
and that wherever I am, if I want Him, and seek Him, He is near to my heart as
the Sim is to that which it shines upon. 4. "He is not here ** : tJtiis will not apply
>^ to the worshipping assembly. 5. "He is not here": this will not apply to the
place where the prodigal stands in his rags and tries to pray, but is speechless ; i^
will not apply to the place where the backslider bemoans himself ; it will not apply
to the spot where some interceding soul, whose oonoem for some other soul has
risen to the point of intolerable, bursts into the prayer, " Lord help me ! " 6. " He
is not here " : Christ is not in the grave. To think of Christ as among the dead
would be to give up faith in Christ. Christ is the life ; He cannot, therefore, be
among the dead ; He must, therefore, be everywhere except in the grave. HI. Tub
/ «EEEBBS or Jesus have koihiko to feab, even from that which may look mosi
^ alarming. When we are overpowered with a sense of the awful other world, let us
remember that angels and ministers of grace are all our friends. We and they are
fMider the same Lord, at home in the same heaven, choristers in the same service.
^€V. AliL WHO KNOW THE OLAO TIDIMOS ABB BOUND TO TELL THEU TO OTHERS.
{Ibid.) The women at the sepulchre: — Very signal and very beautiful
was the devotedness of these women. They put to shame the stronger sex.
1. Their faith, it is true, was weak. They cherished no hope of finding Christ
alive. They had forgotten His own express prediction. 2. Yet, if there be no faith
to admire, there is great love to commend. 3. And then, what zeal was in their
love. They well knew how carefully the grave had been dosed ; but they did not
tarn back at the prospect of a difficulty which they might justly have reasoned was
too much for their strength. Theirs was the love which seems to itself able to
break through rooks, though hope might have been perplexed had it been called
upon for a reason. 4. And love had its reward. They came with the pious intent
of anointing the dead, and themselves were anointed with the most fragrant tidings
that ever fell on mortal ear. I. Thb znvobmation given to thb womsn. 1. Their
fears are quieted. *' Be not afirighted." They had no need to be terrified at the «
glories of an angel, who had not been alarmed at the indignities heaped upon their ^
Lord. They who could come seeking the crucified Nazarene in the grave were not
unworthy to hold converse with celestial beings themselves. 2. But the women
needed more than the quieting of those fears which the apparition of the angel bad
naturally excited. They wanted information as to the disappearance of Christ's
body, and this was quickly furnished. There is something remarkable in the
feasoning of the angel. He calls upon the women to behold the place where their
Lord's body had lain, as though its mere desertion were evidence enough of the
fact of a resurrection. And so, in real truth, it was ; to all, at least, who like the
women, knew and considered the characters and circumstances of the disciples of
Christ. The body was gone. Either, therefore, it had been raised from the dead,
or it had been removed for the purpose of deception. If removed, it could only be
by some of his immediate followers and adherents. But could they have stolen the
bodv? The supposition is absurd. In believing that Christ was raised from the
dead, I believe a miracle for which there was adequate power ; but in believing that
Ohrist's disciples stole away His body, I believe a miracle for which there was no
Kwer at all. Hence the simple fact, ascertainable by the senses, that Christ's body
d disappeared, was, and should be still, sufficient evidence of the resurrection.
8. It may not, however, have been only as proving the fact of a resurrection, that
4ha angel directed attention to the deserted grave; but yet further, because ther«
70i THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap, xn,
wonld be high topics of meditation and comfort raggested by the fact that it had
been hallowed by the body of the Lord. Pause awhile, that yon may gaze on the
consecrated spot, and gather in the wonders with which it is haunted. So inter*
woven is the fact of Christ's resurrection with the whole scheme of redemption — so
dependent is the entire gospel, whether for its truth or its worth, upon its not being
possible He should be holden of death, — that if we could but fix attention on that
empty grave, we should give hope to the desponding, constancy to the wavering,
warning to the careless, comfort to the sorrowing, courage to the dying. Oh, hnger
awhile at the tomb in holy meditation. Solemn thoughts may steal over you, and
brilliant visions may pass before you. That empty vault is full of sublime, and
stirring, and glorious things — things which escape the mere passer-by, but present
themselves to the patient inspector. IL Thb commission with which thb women
WERE ENTRUSTED. 1. The glad tidings were not for them alone; and the angel
directs them to hasten at once to give intelligence of the glorious fact. Were not
these women highly honoured f Were they not well recompensed for their zeal and
love ? They became apostles to the apostles themselves ; they first preadied the
resurrection to those who were to preach it to the farthest ends of the earth. As the
first news of death came by woman, by woman came the first news of resurrection.
2. What a breaking-forth of long-suffering and forgiving love is there in the fact,
that the tidings were first sent to the disciples of the Lord. It seems to have been
the first object of the risen Kedeemer to quiet the apprehensions of His followers ;
to assure them that so far from feeling sternly towards them on account of their
desertion, He had returned to life for their comfort and welfare. Christ did not
think little of having been deserted ; but He knew how His disciples sorrowed for
their fault ; that they loved Him sincerely, notwithstanding their having been over-
come by fear ; and He gave a proof of His readiness to forgive and welcome the
backslider, whensoever there is compunction of heart, in sending the first tidings
of His resurrection to the men who had all forsaken Him and fied. 3. And this
were but little. The disciples as a body had indeed played the coward ; yet they
had rather avoided standing forth in His defence, than shrunk from Him in open
apostacy. One only had done that — denied his Lord— denied Him thrice, with aU
that was vehement and blasphemous in expression. Alas for Peter 1 But oh I the
gracious consideration of Christ 1 for indeed it is His voice which must be
recognized in the voice of the angel : *• Go your way ; tell His disciples and Peter."
Those two words — *• and Peter *' — thrown into the commission are, I might almost
say, a gospel in themselves. To all repentant backsliders, Easter brings glad
tidings of great joy. HI. The promise. 1. There was an appropriateness in the
selection of Galilee for this meeting of our Lord with His apostles, forasmuch as
He was likely to be known to numbers there. He having been brought up in
Nazareth, a city of Galilee, having wrought His first miracle in Cana of Galilee,
and having laboured most abundantly in Capernaum and the neighbouring coast.
2. Moreover, as Galilee was called •• Galilee of the Gentiles," from its proximity to
the territories of the heathen, this fixing the place of meeting on the confines of
Judea might be intended to mark that all men had an interest in the fact of the
resurrection, or that the blessings of the new dispensation were not to be restricted
as had been those of the old. 8. And if it were only to the then living disciples
that the promise pertained, of meeting their risen Lord in Galilee, assuredly some
place there is of which it may be said to the Church in every age — " There shall yt
see Him." " He goeth before you '* is, and always will be, the message to the
Church. {H. Melvill^ BJ).) The holy womevCi Easter and ours: — Ahl my
brethren, let us see whether, in our annual pilgrimage to the grave of our Lord, w«
have anything of the love which shows so conspicuously in these zealous women.
It is so easy for us to keep Easter with high pomp and gratulation, coming to ft
tomb which we know to be empty, because death has been vanquished in his own
domain, that we may readily overlook the strength of that affection which glowed
fervently towards Christ whilst supposed to be dead — dead, too, with every circum>
stance of indignity and shame. When now the Church marshals her children in
solemn precession, and leads them up to the place where the Lord was laid, there
is a thorougli consciousness that mourning is about to be turned into joy, and all
remembrance of Christ's having died as a malefactor, is perhaps lost in the feeling
of His having come forth ai the resurrection and the life. What would it be, if aa
yet we only knew Him as ** Jesus of Nazareth which was crucified," and not as tht
Son of God who stripped the grave of all victory T Is it not too much the fact thai
(if such expressions may be used) we tolerate the humiliation of Christ, in eonaider*
XTX,] ST. MARK.
tion of His snbMqnent triumph, just as we can overlook the oircamstanoe of a
man's having been bom a beggar, when we know him to have become a prince ?
We put up with, though we dislike, the cross, because we know that it conducted to
a throne. And yet what ought so to endear to us the Bedeemer, as the shame and
the sorrow which He endured on our behalf ? When ought He to seem so precious
in our eyes as when, " a Man of sorrows and acquainted with grief," He " gives His
back to the smiters, and His cheeks to them that pluck off the hair ? " Oh ! that
heart has scarcely jet been touched with celestial fire, which is forced to tarn from
Christ in His hamiiity to Christ in His glory, ere it can be kindled into admiration
and devotednesB. (Jbid.) The place where they laid the Lord: — I. Considbb the
MANNEB iM WHICH He WAS COMMITTED THEBB. 1. Ho was Committed there by
persons of remarkably interesting character. Joseph of Arimathea : Nicodemus.
2. He was committed there with many tokens of regard and affection. 3. He was
committed there with unostentatious quietness and privacy. U. Consideb the ends
WHICH, BY His committal to it, WEBB accomplished thebe. 1. EQs committal
to that place confirmed the reality of His death. 2. His committal to that place
folfilled the declarationB of ancient prophecies and types. 8. His committal there
completed the abasement of His humiliation. 4. His committal has delightfully
softened and mitigated the terrors of the grave for His people. 6. By His com-
mittal there He immediately and necessarily introduced His own mediatorial
exaltation and empire. This was the last step towards His exaltation ; it provided
for and secured it. IH. Leabn the lessons which are inculcated thebe. 1. The
tenderness and devotedness of His love. 2. The duty of unreserved devotedness to
His will. 3. The abounding consolations we possess, in reflecting on the departure
of our Christian friends, and in anticipating our own. {James Parsons.) Tlie
risen Christ: — Eight hundred years after Edward I. was buried, they brought up
his body and they found that he still lay with a crown on his head. More than
eighteen hundred years have passed, and I look into the grave of my dead King, and
I see not only a crown, but ** on his head are many crowns." And what is more,
He is rising. Yea, He has risen ! Ye who came to the grave weeping, go away
rejoicing. Let your dirges now change to anthems. He lives 1 Take off the black-
ness from the gates of the morning. He lives I Let earth and heaven keep jubilee.
He lives I I know that my Bedeemer lives. For whom that battle and that
victory? For whom? For you. {Dr, Talmage.) The lessons of the empty
grave: — 1. It is full of consolations. 1. It proclaims that life reigneth. The
sorrow of earth is the seeming supremacy of death. The world's creed is a belief
in death as the Lord God Almighty, the terror and destroyer of all things. But
the empty grave of Christ teaches us that not death, but life, reigns. 2. It shows
that love reigns. Death seems to suggest indifference on God's part to human woe.
The resurrection tells a very different tale. 3. It restores hope to man. What
Christ wins for Himself He wins for all. 4. It tells of redemption being perfected.
It is accepted by God ; or the great *• Prisoner of Hope " would not have been
discharged. And, accepted, Christ rises to reign, from a higher vantage-ground
and with new sovereignty. We have a Saviour now on the throne of all things.
II. Lessons on Lirs and dutt. 1. Self-sacrifice is the secret of goodness, success,
and joy. The way of the cross always leads to some heaven. No love is ever lost,
nor any sacrifice ever fruitless. 2. Nothing can by any means harm the good. By
doing wrong we inflict the only thing worth calling injury upon ourselves. {R.
Olover.) The empty tomb : — He lies there no longer. He was not lying there
when tne angel addressed Mary Magdalene. With most tombs the interest consists
in the fact that all that is mortal of the saint, or hero, or near relative, rests
beneath the stone or the sod on which we gaze. Of our Lord's sepulchre the ruling
interest is that He no longer tenants it. It is not as the place in which He lies, it
is not even chiefly as the place wherein He lay, it is as the place from which He
rose — that the tomb of Jesus speaks to faith. {Canon Liddon.) Importance of
the resurrection to the Christian :-^Ijet us suppose — it is a terrible thing for a
Christian even to suppose — but let us suppose that our Lord Jesus Christ had been
betrayed, tried, condemned to death, and crucified ; that He had died on the cross,
and had been buried ; and that, instead of rising the third day, He had lain on in
His grave day after day, week after week, year after year, until corruption and the
worm had done their work, and nothing was left of His bodily frame save perhaps
a skull and a few bones and a little dust. Let us suppose that that was proved to
have happened to Him which will happen to you and me, which does happen as a
matter of ooorse to the sons of men, to the wealthy and to the poor, to the wise and
704 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap. in.
the thoughtless, to the yonng and the old, — that which certainly happened to all
the other founders of religion and martyrs, to Socrates and Confacius and Moham>
med and Marcus Aurelius ; what would be the result on the claims and works of the
Christian religion ? If anything is certain about the teaching of our Lord, it it
certain that He foretold His resurrection, and that He pointed to it as being a
coming proof of His being what He claimed to be. Ir He had not risen, His
AUTHORITY WOULD HAVE BEEN FATALLY DISCREDITED ; He WOuld haVe StOOd forth in
human history — may He forgive me for saying it— as a bombastic pretender to
anpernataral sanctions which He could not command. If He had not risen,
WHAT would havk BEEN THE MEANING OF His DEATH ? Even if It Still retained
the character of a martyrdom, it would have been only a martyrdom. It could not
have been supposed to have any effect in the invisible world : to be in any sense a
propitiation for human sin. The atoning virtue which, as we Christians believe,
attaches to it, depends on the fact that He who died was more than man, and that
He was more than man was made clear to the world by His resurrection. As
St. Paul tells the Romans, He was powerfully declared to be the Son of God in
respect of His holy and Divine nature by His resurrection from the dead. If He
HAD BOTTKD IN HiS OBAVE, WHAT MUST WE HAVE THOUOHT OF HiS CHABACTSB AB A
BELiaious TEACHER? He Said a great deal about Himself which is inconsistent with
truthfulness and modesty in a mere man. He told ns men to love Him, to trust Him,
to believe in Him, to believe that He was the way, the truth, and the life, to believe
that He was in God the Father, and the Father in Him, to believe that one day He
would be seen sitting on the right hand of God, and coming in the clouds of heaven.
What should we think of language of this kind in the mouth of the veiy best man
whom we have ever known ? What should we think of it in our Lord Himself, if
He was, after all, not merely, as He was, one of ourselves, but also, nothing more ?
He proved that He had a right to use this language when, after dying on the
cross, at His own appointed time He rose from the dead. Bat it is His resor*
rection which enables as to think that He could speak thus without being
intolerably conceited or profane. Faith in the resurrection is the very key-stone
of the arch of Christian faith, and, when it is removed, all must inevitably crumble
into ruin. The idea that the spiritual teaching, that the lofty moral character of
our Lord, will survive faith in His resurrection, is one of those phantoms to which
men cling when they are themselves, consciously or unconsciously, losing faith, and
have not yet thought out the consequences of the loss. St. Paul knew what he was
doing, when he made Christianity answer with its life for the truth of the resurrec-
tion (1 Cor. XV. 14). {Ibid.) Christ*s resurrection the ChristiatCt hope: — Christ is
risen. O how do those words change tne wnoie aspeci ui liuiimil liie I The sun-
light that gleams forth after the world has been drenched, and dashed, and terrified
with the black thunder-drops, reawakening the song of birds and reilluminating the
bloom of the folded flowers, does not more gloriously transfigure the landscape
than these words transfigure the life of man. Nothing short of this could be our
pledge and proof that we also shall arise. We are not left to dim intimations of it
from the reminiscences of childhood; vague hopes of it in exalted moments;
splendid guesses of it in ancient pages ; faint analogies of it from the dawn of day,
and the renovation of spring, and the quickened grain, and the butterfly shaking
itself free of the enclosing chrysalis to wave its wings in the glories of summer
light : all this might create a longing, the sense of some far-off possibility in a few
chosen souls, but not for all the weary and suffering sons of humanity a permanent
and ennobling conviction, a sure and certain hope. But Christ is risen, and we
have it now ; a thought to comfort us in the gloom of adversity, a belief to
raise us into the high privilege of sons of Ood. They that are fallen asleep in
Christ are not perished. Look into the Saviour's empty and angel-haunted tomb ;
He hath burst for us the bonds of the prison-house ; He hath shattered at a touch
the iron bars and brazen gates ; He hath rifled the house of the spoiler, and torn
away the serpent's sting ; " He is risen ; He is not here." They that sleep in all
those narrow graves shall wake again, shall rise again. In innumerable myriads
from the earth, and from the river, and from the rolling waves of the mighty sea, shall
they start up at the sounding of that angel-trumpet ; from peaceful ohurch-yards,
from bloody battle-fields, from the catacomb and from the pyramid, from the
marble monument and the mountain-cave, great and small, saint and prophet and
apostle, and thronging multitudes of unknown martyrs and onre^nurded heroes, ia
every age and every dimate, on whose forehead was the Lamb's seal — they shall
oome loflh from thiB power of death and helL This ia the Clhrislian*s hope, and
:vi.] BT. MARK. 705
thus m not only triumph over the enemy, but profit by him, wringing out of his
curse a blessing, out of his prison a ooronation and a home. {Archdeacon Farrar.)
ChruVs resurrection: — Christ is the resurrection ; therefore its source and spring,
its author and finisher, in a sense in which no other can be. When He emerged
from the tomb on the morning of the world's great Sabbath, He brought life and
immortality with Him, by which the pearls of the deep sea, before awaiting the
plunge of the diver, the treasures, before lying in the dark mine, were by Him seized
and brought up to the light of day. Life and immortality were brought to light by
the gospel, and with this knowledge in our minds, we seem to stand by the Saviour's
broken sepulchre, just as a man stands upon the shelving brink of the precipice
from which some friendly hand has snatched him, shuddering as he thinks of the
awful death that he has only just escaped. Look, and see the place where the
Lord lay, and tremble — but rejoice with trembling. Is the stone there yet ? If it
is, if the stone is not yet rolled away, if the grave clothes and spices yet shroud and
embalm the corpse, then let the darkness come and blot out^ the sun, and bid a
long, long good-night to all the world's hopes of life, for existence is a feverish
dream, and death shall be its ghastly but its welcome end. " But now u Christ
risen from the dead, and become the first-fruits of them that slept." (W. M,
Pumhon,D.D.) The triumph of good: — As a noble sonata, whose melodies are
broken with pathetic IfllliUffl' UiTd Cl&figmg discords, ends in a burst of triumphant
harmony, so the story of the life of Jesus, beset with sins and piteous with sorrows,
is crowned at last with the glory of His exaltation. (G. M. Southgate.) TJie
absent corpse: — When we wander through a graveyard and look at the tombstones,
or go into the church and examine the old monuments, we see one heading to them
all : " Hie jacet," or " Here lies." Then follows the name, with date of death, and
perhaps some praise of the good qualities of the departed. But how totally different
18 the epitaph on the tomb of Jesus 1 It is not written in gold, nor cut in stone ; it
is spoken by the month of an angel, and it is the exact reverse of what is put on all
other tombs: "He is not here I " (S. Baring Gould, M.A.) The resurrection
guarantees success to Christianity: — During the years that followed the outbreak of
the French revolution, and the revolt against Christianity which accompanied it,
there was an extraordinary activity in some sections of French society directed to
projecting a religion that might, it was hoped, take the place of Christianity. New
philanthropic enthusiasms, new speculative enthusiasms, were quite the order of the
day. On one occasion a projector of one of these schemes came to Talleyrand,
who, yon will remember, was a bishop who had turned sceptic, and so had devoted
himself to politics ; but whatever is to be said of him, he was possessed in a very
remarkable degree of a keen perception of the proportion of things, and of what is
and is not possible in this human world. Well, his visitor observed, by way of
complaint to Talleyrand, how hard it was to start a new religion, even though its
tenets and its efforts were obviously directed to promoting the social and personal
improvement of mankind. " Surely," said Talleyrand, with a fine smile, •• surely
it cannot be so difficult as yon think." ** How so ? " said his friend. ** Why," he
replied, ** the matter is simple ; yon have only to get yourself crucified, or anvhow
pat to death, and then, at your own time to rise from the dead, and yoo will have
no difficulty.*' (Canon Liddon.)
Ver. 7. Tell His disdifles and Peter. Love*s triumph over sin : — Matthew, who
also reports the angel's words, has only '* teU His disciples." Bfark ^the " inter-
Sreter" of Peter) adds words which mast have come like wine ana ofl to the
raised heart of the denier, " and Peter." To the others, it was of less importance
that his name should have been named then ; to him it was life from the dead that
he should have been singled out to receive a word of forgiveness and a summons to
meet his Lord; as if He had said through His angel messenger, "I would see
them aU, bat whoever may stay behind, let not him be wanting to our glad meeting
again." I. Notice the loving message with which He beckons the wahdsbeb
BACK. 1. A revelation of love stronger than death. 2^ A revelation of a love that
is not tamed away by oar sinful changes. Whilst we forget Him, He remembers
ns. We cannot get away from the sweep of His love, wander we ever so far. 3.
A love which sends a special message because of special sin. The depth of oni
need determines Uie strength of the restorative power put forth. The more we
have sinned, the less can we believe in Christ's love ; and so, the more we have
sinned, the more marvellous and convincing does He make the testimony and
operations of His love to as. 4. A love which singles oat a sinf al man by nam*
45
fM THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [ohav. sn,
Christ deals with us not in the mass but soul by sool. He has » dear individnali8>
ing knowledge ol each. He loves every single sool with a distinct love. He calls
to thee by thy name— as truly as He singled out Peter here, as truly as when
His voice from heaven said, " Saul, SauL" To thee forgiveness, help, purity, life
eternal are offered. II. The sxobbt MEBTn?o between Ghbist and Peteb
(Luke xxiv. 34 ; 1 Cor. xv. 5). This is the second stage in the victorious conflict of
Divine love with human sin. What tender consideration there is in meeting Peter
alone, before seeing him in the company of others I How painful would have been
the rush of the first emotions of shame awakened by Christ's presence, if their
course had been checked by any eye but His own beholding them 1 The act of faith
is the meeting of the soul with Christ alone. Do you know anything of that
personal communion 7 Have you, your own very self, by your own penitence for
your own sin, and your own thankful faith in the love which thereby becomes truly
yours, isolated yourself from all companionship, and joined yourself to Christ ?
Then, through that narrow passage where we can only walk singly, you will come
into a large place. The act of faith which separates us from all men, unites us
for the first time in real brotherhood, Heb. xii. 22-24. HI. The gradual cube o»
THE PABDONBD APOSTLE (Johu xxi. 15-19). ** Lovest thou Me ? '* includes every-
thing. Hast thou learned the lesson of My mercy f Hast thou responded to My
love ? Then thou art fit for My work, and beginning to be perfected. So the
third stage in the triumph of Christ's love over man's sin is when we, beholding
that love flowing towards us, and accepting it by faith, respond to it with our own,
and are able to say, ** Thou knowest that I love Thee." And when we love, we can
follow. With love to Christ for motive, and Christ Himself for pattern, and
following him for our one duty, all things are possible, and the utter defeat of sin
in us is but a question of time. The love of Christ, received into the heart,
triumphs gradually but surely over all sin, transforms character, turning even its
weakness into strength, and so, from the depths of transgression and very gates of
hell, raises men to God. {A. Maclaren, D.D.) And Peter .-—I. Tell Peter,
although he has sinned so grievously. It was heartless, repeated, public, wilfuL
II. Tell Peter, for he has wept. God's anger against His children ceases with the
commencement of their penitence. HI. Tell Peter, for he has suffered. His
thoughts were God's chastening rod. IV. Tell Peter he is dear to Christ. Sin can
grieve Christ, cause Him to withdraw, wound and disfigure us ; but it cannot alter
His love. V. Tell Peter, for he is your brother. They had sinned. Have not we
denied our Lord ? {Stems and Ttoigs.) The news of Christ* s resurrection sent to
Peter : — ^No action of Christ's life is without importance and significance. I. To
WHOM WAS THIS MESSAGE PABTicuiiABLT SENT ? To Peter, who was then distinguished
from the other disciples, not in merit, but in guilt. He was not thus honoured,
however, because of his guilt, but because he was now penitent and sorrowful. It
was not his cursing and oaths which brought this mercy to him, but his penitence
and tears. There is no comfort here for the hardened or careless sinner, or for the
self-righteous, or for the man who, in the midst of his iniquity, feels no self-
abhorrence, no deep contrition, for his guilt. But for the broken-hearted sinner,
there is the sweetest comfort. II. The gbacious Being who sent this message.
1. Christ had just the same compassionate heart after His resurrection that he had
before it. Death changed the nature of His body, but not the nature of His heart
or the disposition of His soul. He still looks on those who seek Him, with the
same tenderness, sympathy, and love. 2. The risen Jesus looks more on the
graces than on the sins of the penitent Christian. He seems to have thought
more of Peter's sorrow than of his curses, more of his tears than of his oaths.
He sees so much of the desparate wickedness of our hearts, as to make Him con-
template with pleasure the least good His grace enables us to bring forth. Who
would not value a flower which he should find blooming on a rock, or throwing iti
fragrance over the sands of a desert ? Not that in giving His grace and pardon.
He overlooks the sin ; to Peter's everlasting shame the treachery which he com-
mitted is recorded against him in God's Holy Word. The sin is forgiven, but the
remembrance and shame of it still remain. 3. Christ sometimes vouchsafes to the
believer, when bowed down with extraordinary sorrow, more than ordinary comfort.
It is not a light thing that will quiet the conscience of the Christian, after he has
been overcome by temptation. The storm which sin occasions in hiis soul, cannot
easily be soothed into a calm. The mourning Christian needs Bome special in^<
position of grace and mercy, before he can again cherish in his heart a hope of
pardon and acoeptauce. In the mysterious riches of His goodness, the Lord some-
CHAP. XVl^l
ST. MARK. 707
times vouchsafes to His Saints, in these seasons, peculiar consolations. He recalls
their soul " tossed with tempest and not comforted," from the contemplation of
its own depravity, and tells it to look again with the eye of faith on the cross of
His Son, 4 The contrite sinner may draw much comfort and hope from Chnst •
resurrection* What a ground for rejoicing have we in the fact that " Christ is
risen 1*' Let ns seek to know the power of His resurrection. IH. Thb mbssekobm
EMPLOYED. 1. An angel. Why? (1) To do honour to Christ. (2) To teach us,
that the breach between ns and the angels is healed. They agam regard us ai
friends and love us as brethren. They are made our ministering servants, and do
not disdain the office. (3) The contrite sinner is peculiarly an object of love to
the heavenly hosts. The angel of the Lord has compassion on the weepmg Peter,
and rejoices to take to him a cup of consolation. What a lesson for mimstere,
what a lesson for every Christian, is here 1 It is a heavenly work to eomf ort tiie
sorrowful. 2. Three poor women receive the message from thelips of thii
heavenly herald, and carry it to the mourning penitent. Why? They had been
first in love, affection, service ; it was but right that they should be first in honour
and reward. And note the manner in which these women were sent ^ "Go
quickly" (Matt, xxviii. 7). Why such haste? There was nothmg sinful in the
feelings which a view of their Lord's tomb was likely to excite ; but they were not
suffered to stay there to indulge them, that we might be taught that pious feeling
must lead to pious actions. It is good and sweet to think of Chnst ; but it ii
better to act for Christ. He is the best servant, not who dehghts to stand m his
master's presence, but who carefully minds and diUgently goes about his nciaster s
business. (Charles Bradley, M.A.) Women as amh(Uisador$:--The faculties and
abiUties of the soul appear both in affairs of state and in ecclesiastical affairs ; m
matters of government and in matters of religion ; and in neither of these are we
without examples of able women. For, for state affairs, and matters of govern-
ment, our age hath given us such a queen, as scarce any former king hathequaUed.
And in the Venetian story, I remember, that certain matrons of that city were sent
by commission, in quahty of ambassadors, to an empress with whom that state
had occasion to treat. And in the stories of the eastern parts of the world, it is
said to be in ordinary practice to send women for ambassadors. And then m
matters of reUgion, women have always had a great hand, though sometimes on the
left as well as on the right hand. {John Donne, D.D.) Reasons for the meeting
to go there? At Jerusalem He was crucified, at Jerusalem He rose, at Jerusalem
He ascended; Jerusalem was the place of all honour; why then should He be so
careful to go down to that northern province ? Many reasons doubtless there were
of which I know nothing ; but I think we may be permitted to see some of them-
1 One might He in that very fact of the distance and the difficulty. For it is a
uiiiversal law that God always requires efforts, and always blesses the efforts He
requires. You wiU not find your best privileges close to your hand. You must
be content to go far for them. You must exercise self-denial and labour
to get at them. 2. There is no doubt also that Jesus did it partly because
Galilee was despised. He had lived in Galilee as a chJd and youth; He
had taken most of His apostles from thence; and now that He was nsen and
almost glorified, He was not going to pass by the plaxje He loved m li;^°ij;l^^^^
That would not be the Jesus with whom we have to do. 3. Underlymg this feehng
there can be little question that there was a great principle upon which Chnst
acted,— of extending the proofs of His resurrection as widely as possible. ^ There-
fore He manifested His risen body in the two extremes of the land to which that
dispensation was confined. 4. Christ was trae to aU the finer sympathies of our
nature, and amongst those sympathies is the love of old, and especiaUy early,
asiciations. {JaLi Vaughai MA.) Mary of Magdala .—She was-L A obeat
SUTFEBEB HEALED BY ChRIST. II. A OBATETOL MINISTBAKT TO ChBIST (LukO Till.
2, 8; Mark xv. 41). HI. A faithful adherent to Chmst. IV. A binceb.
MODBNEB FOB Chbist (Comp. Matt, xxvii. 61 ; Mark xv. 47 ; John xx. 1, 2, 11-18).
V. An honoubbd mesbbnobb of Chbist (John xx. 17, 18; ob. xtu lOJ. (£. a
Dickson, M.A.)
Ver. 9. Now when Jeros was rism.—Evidemse of the fact of Christ'i resurrection .—
The empty tomb of Jesus recalls an event which is as weU attested as any ib
708 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. ifB.
history. It is so attested as to put the idea of what is called " illusion " ont of th»
question. The main purpose, the first duty, of the apostolic ministry was to
witness to the fact that Christ had risen. The apostles did not teach the resorreO'
tion as a revealed truth, as they taught, e.g.t the doctrine of justification ; they
taught the resurrection as a fact of experience— a fact of which they themselves
had had experience. And this is why the different evangelists do not report the
same appearances of our risen Lord. Each one reports that which he himself
witnessed, or that which was witnessed oy the eye-witness on wnose authority he
writes. Put the various attestations together, and the evidence is irresistible.
That which these witnesses attest must be true, unless they have conspired to
deceive us, or are themselves deceived. The idea that they are deceived, however,
cannot be entertained by any man who understands human character; the idea
that they were themselves deceived is inconsistent with the character of the witness
which they give. No doubt there are states of hallucination, states of mental
tension, in which a man may fancy that he sees something which does not in fact
present itself to his senses. The imagination for the moment is so energetic as to
impose upon the senses an impression which corresponds to that, whatever it be,
which creates an emotion within the soul. Nay more, the New Testament itself
speaks of inward revelations, sometimes during sleep, sometimes during the
waking hours, as was that rapture of which St. Paul wrote, into *♦ the third
heaven, whether in the body I cannot tell, or whether out of the body I cannot tell
— God knoweth." But the accounts of the appearances of our risen Lord do not
at all admit of either of these explanations. If He had been seen only for a
passing moment, only by one or two individuals separately, only in one set of
circumstances, under one set of conditions again and again repeated, then there
would have been room for the suspicion of a morbid hallucination, or at least of an
inward vision. But what is the real state of the case ? The risen One was seen
five times on the day that He was raised from the dead ; He was seen a week after ;
He was seen more than a month after that ; and frequently, on many occasions,
during the interval ; He was seen by women alone, by men alone, by parties of two
and three, by disciples assembled in conclave, by multitudes of men, five hundred
at a time ; He was seen in a garden, in a public roadway, in an upper chamber, on
a mountain in Galilee, on the shore by the lake, in the village where His friends
dwelt. He taught as before His death, He instructed. He encouraged. He reproved.
He blessed, He uttered prolonged discourses which were remembered, which were
recorded ; He explained passages of Scripture, He revealed great doctrines. He gave
emphatic commands. He made large and new promises. He communicated
ministerial powers ; and they who pressed around Him knew that His risen body
was no phantom form, for He ate and drank before them just as in the days of
yore, and they could, if they would, have pressed their very fingers into the fresh
wounds in His hands and feet and side. In short, He left on a group of minds,
most unlike each other, one profound ineffaceable impression, that they had seen
and lived with One who had died indeed and had risen again, and that this fact
was in itself and in its import so precious, so pregnant with meaning and with
blessing to the human race, that it threw in their minds all other facts int9
relative insignificance ; it was worth living for, it was worth dying for. {Carunt
Liddon.) He appeared first to Mary Magdalene : — The Saviour's first appearance
after resurrection was to a woman. For all He had died. But not to an assembled
world does He manifest Himself now that He has risen victorious o'er the grave ;
not to angels, or apostles; not to the faithful Joseph, or the true-hearted
Nicodemus ; but to a woman 1 I. The chabacteb of the person to whom Chbubx
APPEABED. A woman, and an inhabitant of a distant and unimportant town
bordering towards the Gentile frontier, who had been possessed of demons, until
Christ reached forth to her the hand of pity. II. The circumstancbs undeb WHJ£ii
He APPEABED TO HEB. He Called her by her name. III. The obakd truth hxbk
ILLUSTRATED. 1. It was uot a mere chance encounter. Christ having already left
the tomb, must have purposely concealed Himself from all His disciples save lh««
one whom He wanted to see and comfort. 3. Jesus revealed Himself to her,
unaccompanied by any. No angel hosts : Christ was *' all in all." 8. Th«
manifestation was afforded in a garden to a woman. Eden : Eve. {George Venablet )
The power of the gospel to restore the fallen: — The free grace of the gospel, and the
holiness it produces, distinguish it from every other system. It both justifies and
sanctifies. In its method of justifying, it gives glory to God, and brings peaee to
In its method of sanctifying, it displays the fulness of grace, and deliyen
xfi.] 8T, MARK, 909
from the power of Satan. L Thosi who am most ursbb Satakio ufTLUENCE, abe
TBT wiTHXM THH BEACH OF THE 008PKL. 1. The power of evil Spirits would be
exerted over both body and soul, if they were not restrained by a greater power.
As it is, Satan blinds the mind ; works powerfully in the hearts of the children of
disobedience ; puts it into men's hearts to betray the best of Masters, apd to lie
against the best Friend. All sins, whether against God or against men, are com-
mitted in consequence of his temptation. 2. No power can counteract this evil
influence but that which is Divine. In heathen countries Satan reigns uncon-
trolled ; in Christian countries his devices are revealed, all his malice is baffled, his
kingdom is overthrown. 8. The gospel not merely delivers men from Satanic
influence, but exalts men into the most holy characters. IL Th« gospel can
EFFECT THE REFORMATION OF THE MOST ABANDONED. No soonor was Mary Magdalene
dispossessed, than she devotes herself to the service of her Lord. So with all who
heartily embrace Christ's religion. The power of sin in them is destroyed, the
influence of Satan is dissolved, and they become willing captives of Christ's love.
Justin Martyr, in one of his apologies, says, " O Emperor ; we, who were formerly
adulterers, are now chaste; we, who used magic charms, now depend on the
immortal God ; we, who loved money, now cheerfully contribute to the wants of
all ; we, who would not sit down with those who were not of the same tribe with
OS, now cheerfully sit among and pray for the conversion of them that hate us, and
persuade them to live according to the excellent precepts of Christ." 1. Let
us learn how admirably the gospel is adapted to the present state of human
natura It finds us gmlty, and reveals to us the sovereign mercy of God in
Christ. It subdues the corrupt heart; turns men from darkness to light, Ac.
2. See what ground this affords for exertion, even in the most desperate cases.
(W. Marshy M.A.) Jesu$ appearing to Mary Magdalene: — I. Who she was*.
Christ revealed Himself first to a woman. A woman out of whom He had
cast seven devils. She had been a special trophy of Christ's delivering power.
In her mighty grace had proved its power. She had become a constant attendant
on the Saviour. She spent her substance in relieving His wants. II. How
SHS SOUGHT. Very early in the morning. With very great boldness. Very
faithfully : stood at sepulchre. Very earnestly — weeping. Perseveringly. Sought
Christ only. There was much ignorance, very little faith, but much love.
lU. How SHE FOUND HiM. Jesus Christ was discovered to her by a word. Her
heart owned allegiance by another word. Her next impulse was to seek close
fellowship. She then entered on His service. (C. H, Spurgean.) Mary
Magdalene : — I. A melancholy instance of Satanic power. H. A glorious trophy
of Divine grace. The cure was unsought by her. Mary resisted the healing hand.
She wud nealed by a word. She was healed instantaneously. lU. An ardent
follower of Christ. IV. A faithful adherent to her Master under all trial. V. One
of the most favoured beholders of Christ. VI. An honoured messenger of Christ
to the apostles. {Ibid.^ Woman first : — Was it not most meet that a woman
should first see the risen Saviour. She was first in the transgression, let
her be first in tne justification. In yon garden she was first to work our woe ;
let her in that other garden be the first to see Him who works our weal. She
takes the apple of that bitter tree which brings us ail our sorrow; let her be
the first to see the Mighty Gardener, who has planted a tree which brings
forth fruit onto everlasting life. (Ibid.) Magdalene: — Mary Magdalene
represents those who have come under the tormenting and distracting power
of Satan, and whose lamp of joy is quenched in tenfold night. They are
imprisoned not so much in the dens of sin as in the dungeons of sorrow ; not
so criminal as they are wretched ; not so depraved as thoy are desolate.
(Ibid.) Demented: — Persons possessed with devils were unhappy; they
found the gloom of the sepulchre to be their most congenial resort. They
were unsocial and solitary. If they were permitted, they broke away from
all those dear associations of the family circle which gave half the charms
to life ; they delighted to wander in dry places, seeking rest and finding none ;
they were pictures of misery, images of woe. Such was the seven-times unhappy
Magdalene, for into her there had entered a complete band of devils. She was
overwhelmed with seven seas of agony, loaded with seven manacles of despair,
encircled with seven walls of fire. Neither day nor night afforded her rest,
her brain was on fire, and her soul foamed like a boiling cauldron. (Ibid.)
Demented : — To sum up much in few words, there is no doubt that Mary Magdalene
would have been consivioiva by lo be ueiuenweu , ^no vtaj, practically, a maniac
7l# THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [cha».
Bauon was onshippeoU and Satan stood at the helm instead of reason, and the
poor barqae was harried hither and thither under the gaidanoe of demons. {Ibid,)
A modern iUtutration: — I remember a man of excellent character, well-beloved by
hii family and esteemed by his neighboors, who was for twenty years enveloped in
unutterable gloom. He ceased to attend the house of Qod, because he said it was
no use ; and although always ready to help in every good work, yet he had an
abiding conviction upon him that, personally, he had no part nor lot in this
matter, and never could have. The more you talked to him the worse he became ;
even prayer seemed but to excite him to more fearful despondency. In the
providence of God, I was called to preach the Word in his neighbourhood ; he was
induced to attend, and, by God's gracious power, under the sermon he obtained a
joyful liberty. After twenty years of anguish and unrest, he ended his weary
roamings at the foot of the cross, to the amazement of his neighbours, the
joy of his friends, and to the glory of God. {Ibid.) Hope for the worst:-'
Until the gate of hell is shut upon a man, we must not cease to pray for him ;
and If we see him hugging the very door-posts of damnation, we must go to the
mercy-seat and beseech the arm of grace to pluck him from his dangerous position.
The case of Mary Magdalene is a looking-glass in which many souls, wrung with
anguish, may see themselves. {Ibid,)
Vers. 10, 11. And she went and told the/m.—A sadinterior and a cheery messenger .'-^
Mark is graphic : be paints an interior like a Dutch artist. We see a choice company
•♦ Them that had been with Him." We know many of the individuals, and are in-
terested to note what they are doing, and how they bear their bereavement. We see
— I. A soBBOWiNo ASSEMBLY. " As they mourned and wept." What a scene 1 We be-
hold a common mourning, abundantly expressed by tears and lamentations. They
mourned— 1. Because they had believed in Jesus, and loved Him ; and therefore
they were concerned at what had happened. 2. Because they felt their great loss
in losing Him. 8. Because they had seen His sufferings and death. 4. Because
they remembered their ill-conduct towards Him. 6. Because their hopes concern-
ing Him were disappointed. 6. Because they were utterly bewildered as to what
was now to be done, seeing their Leader was gone. U. A consoling msssbnosb. 1.
Mary Magdalene was one of themselves. 2. She came with the best of news. The
resurrection of Christ (o) removes the cause of sorrow ; (6) assures of the help of a
living Redeemer ; (c) secures personal resurrection (1 Cor. xv. 23) ; (d) brings per-
sonal justification {Rom. iv. 25). 3. She was not believed, (o) Unbelief is apt to
become chronic : they had not believed the Lord when He foretold His own resur-
rection, and so tiiey do not believe an eye-witness who reported it. {b) Unbelief is
cruelly unjust : they made Mary Magdalene a liar, and yet all of them esteemed
her. HI. A BEASsuBma beflection. 1. We are not the only persons who have
mourned an absent Lord. 2. We are not the only messengers who have been
rejected. 3. We are sure beyond all doubt of the resurrection of Christ, (a) The
evidence is more abundant than that which testifies to any other great historical
event, {b) The apostles so believed it as to die as witnesses of it. (e) They were
very slow to be convinced, and therefore that which forced them to believe should
have the same effect on us. 4. Great reason, then, for us to rejoice. {C. H,
Spurgeon.) Unnecessary grief: — A sorrow is none the less sharp because it is
founded upon a mistake. Jacob mourned very bitterly for Joseph, though his
darhng was not torn in pieces, but on the way to be lord over all Egypt. Yet while
there is of necessity so much well-founded sorrow in the world, it is a pity that one
unnecessary pang should be endured, and endured by those who have the best
possible grounds for joy. The case in the text before us is a typical one. Thousands
are at this day mourning and weeping who ought to be rejoicing. Oh, the mass of
needless grief I Unbelief works for the father of lies in this matter, and works
misery out of falsehood among those who are not in truth children of sadness but
heirs of light and joy. Rise, faith, and with thy light chase away this darkness I
And if ever thou must have thy lamp trimmed by a humble Mary, do not despise
her kindly aid. Transient unbelief : — ** Is it always foggy here ? " inquired a
lady passenger of a Cunard steamer's captain, when they were groping their way
across the Banks of Newfoundland. "How should I know? " replied the captain,
gruffly ; " I do not live here." But there are some of Christ's professed followers
who do manage to live in the chilling regions of spiriftoal fog lor » gfMl part ol
their unhappy Uvea. (Cuyler.)
xn.] 8T, MARK. 711
Ver. 12. liter that Ha appeared In another form.— T^ changing form of the
unchanging Saviour : — I. Ghbist has a roBM. Eliphaz said (Job iv. 15, 16). Not
thus is the Lord Jesus presented to us in the New Testament. Throaghoat Hia
earthly life He appears, not in uncertain and wavering lines, bnt in all the distinct-
ness and power of a human personality. And during the forty days it is the same.
The corporeity of the Eedeemer is glorified, but it is still the ** man Christ Jesus "
with all His individual characteristics. In car day strong endeavours are being
made to get rid of the ** form '* of Christ ; to substitute what is vague and visionary
for the definite and palpable truth as it is in Jesus. The prophet says, " The heart
is deoeitfol." Half this, it seems, is true; the heart is deceitful above all things,
and desperately good, for modern introspection has found in it a Messiah, a Church,
and a Bible. Let us enter our protest against these endeavours to reject a sub<
stantive religion. 1. We have those who reject the historical Christ on behalf of a
mystical Christ. Spiritual men, we are told, attain positions which render historical
saviours redundancies. They find a diviner Christ in their heart. But, my
brethren, can we forego the Christ who is painted with such severe realism in the
New Testament for that idealistic Christ whom men assume to find in their own
heart ? Must we vaporize the Christ of the Gospels into that formless, bloodless
Christ known in certain quarters as the inward, the spiritual, the eternal Christ ?
Surely not. If we reject the historic Christ we shall soon have no Christ at all, for
the Christ we find in our heart is simply the reflection of the historic Christ. What
Christ did Morison find in the heart of the Chinese ? or Carey in the heart of the
Hindoo? or John Hunt in the heart of the Fijian? A very equivocal Christ, surely 1
2. We have those who reject the visible Church for the invisible Church. The
Church of God does not exist, we are told, as a visible institution. The external
Church — sacraments, ritual, ministers, and impertinences. " God is a spirit, and
they that worship Him must worship Him in Spirit and in truth." Once more
Christ is to become disembodied and formless ; His Church is to be sublimated into
that featureless shade known as Flymouthism. Against this etherealization we
must protest also. The true Church, which is Christ's "body," will resemble Christ's
resurrection body ; being at once spiritual and corporeal ; heavenly and earthly ;
invisible, as its deepest life is hid in God, and yet revealing in its organisation and
government and ordinances the power and grace of its immortal Head ; with human
features and human raiment, and yet standing before the world, as the Master stood
on the Mount, transfigured in a glory altogether unearthly and Divine. 3. We have
those who reject dogmatic theology for subjective truth. Some of these reject the
Scriptures altogether — looking into the heart they find a surer Bible. They spurn
a ** book revelation ; " the eternal truth is wronged by any attempt to give it
** form." Or, if revelation is accepted, no '* form of sound words " must be allowed ;
the teachings of revelation must not be expressed in any distinct and definite
doctrine. They must have the milky way where all is nebulous and undistinguished
light ; they cannot tolerate the astronomy which for practical purposes makes a map
of the stars ; they must have the light — the pure, white, or bless light — and look
wi^ contempt on Sir Isaac Newton who with the prism breaks up the light for
human uses. The mysticism which rejects the orb, which rejects the prism, forgets
the limitations of man, and the practical needs of human life. The Word of God
and the creed of His Church are sun and rainbow, one shedding the light, the
other analyzing it, and both essential for the illumination and pacification of the
world, n. The FOBM or Christ is susceptiblb or ohanqb. *'In another form."
The form of Christ still changes, as perhaps all forms change. There are constant
and legitimate changes in the presentment of Christ ; in the expression of
evangelical doctrine ; in the ritual and government of Christ's Church. Christ
changes the form of His manifestation for great ends. 1. That the form shall
not stand between us and the Saviour Himself. We can only know Christ through
the form, and up to a certain point any particular form may help us, bat at length
the form instead of being a medium of revelation may become a screen. Spiritual
meaning evaporates from the best definitions ; ceremonies are emptied of their
meaning ; and the Church order which once aided the gospel may become inopera-
tive and obstructive. The form may become a darkened glass to hide Christ, and
lest this should be the case the form is ever being changed so that we may **all with
open face behold as in a glass the glory of the Lord. 2. That He may make Him-
•elf known to men of the most diverse character and circumstance. It seems very
probable that the appearance of Christ was altered from time to time daring the
forty days to meet tiie several cases of the disciples. Our religion, thank God> ia fox
71« THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap. m.
the world, and it has all the richness and versatility of a nniversal faith. What a
scene of infinite variety is this world of oars 1 How it teems with individuality,
originality, eccentricity, divergence, contrast 1 So the Christian Church does not
come with stereotyped language, a rigid ritual, an unalterable rubric, but it meets
the infinite richness of human nature with infinite flexibility and inezhaostible re-
source. Christ comes in many forms that He may meet the multitudiousness and
manifoldness of the race. 3. That He may become the Saviour of all generations.
With the perpetual and inevitable changes of time Christ constantly reappears in
new forms. The world does not outgrow Christ, but Christ confronts successive
generations in new forms, appropriate forms, richer forms. Christianity never be-
comes obsolete ; in the midst of a new world it stands forth in a new form, but with
all its ancient power and grace. The old truth speaks in new language; t^e old spirit
passes into new vessels ; the old life pulsates in new organizations ; the old purpose
is accelerated by a new programme. The Church of Christ does not present the
spectacle of an antique corporation, but it is strong, fresh, aggressive, and hopeful
as ever to-day (Psalms ex, 2, 3). The "new religion," what is that. Positivism? No,
Positivism is the new superstition ; Christianity is the new religion — the old religion
and the new. This earth is old, very old, and yet to-day when ^ou look at the prim-
rose, the anemone, and all the fresh yoimg beauty of the spring, you feel it is the
new earth also. So is it with Christianity. Older than the hills, it is vital, and
fresh and fruitful as ever. The Christianity of St. Paul, of Chrysostom, of Bernard,
of John Howe, of John Wesley, produces at this very moment the brightest, grand-
est, happiest thoughts and things of the modem world. *' The word of the Lord
endureth for ever, and this is the word which by the gospel is preached unto jon.**
Observe — HI. That under thk CHANOiNa fobh abb ABiniNa chabactbbistics. For
a time the eyes of the disciples were holden, and they knew not with whom they
talked, but in the end they recognized their Master. How shall we recognise the
Master 7 Under changing forms how shall we be sure of His presence ? There are
many anti-Christs in the world ; many creeds and doctrines set forth as Christ's
which are not Christ's. The old Scandinavian heroes after eating an oz are fabled
as making another to grow in its hide the next day. Many in modem times have
caught the trick of denying the vital facts and doctrines of the gospel, and then
substituting vain dreams of their own under the language, institutions, and symbols
of Christianity. But yet we need hardly be deceived. 1. There is the sign of
reality. John writes |2 John vii.). Let us turn from all those who would turn
Christ into an abstraction or personification. 2. There is the sign of glory. In the
beginning of their intercourse with the stranger Cleophas and his companion had
no exalted idea of the stranger, but as they conversed with Him their sense of His
greatness grew until they knew Him to be their risen Lord. They recognized the
sign of His divinity. Where the glory of the Divine, the Risen, the Reigning Lord
does not shine fortii, "this is a deceiver and anti-Christ." 8. There is ttie sign of
sacrifice. It has been conjectured that in the breaking of the bread the disciples
saw the mark of the nails in the Saviour's hands. However this may be, their
mind was full of the sufferings of Christ, and they recognized in Him the Viotim ol
Calvary. Let us, like the monk in the old legend, ask for the print of the nails.
The true gospel is the gospel of the cross ; the true ministry confesses, *' I am
determined to know nothing among men, but Jesus Christ and Him crucified; " the
true worship ascribes salvation •• to Him who has washed us from our sins in His
own blood." The •• form " may change, but by " the tokens of His Passion, by the
marks received for me," all His people discern Him with exultation and assoranee.
{W. L, Watkituon.)
Vers. 14-20. And upbraided them with their unbelief.— T^ departing Saviour. ^-^
It cannot be a matter of indifference to the pious to know in what manner the
blessed Saviour took final leave of His earthly Church. If we really love Him it
cannot but interest us to understand how He conducted Himself, how He looked,
and what were the last things He said and did. Upon these points the Scriptures
are not silent ; and the whole account is quite in keeping with what we would
naturally expect. I. Oub depabttno Savioub'b chidimos. Lgiffi. itself gave birth
to these upbraidings. There is nothing so subtle or so damaging to the peace of
souls as the workings of unbelief. Faith is the great saving, grace , where it is
wanting there is misery, darkness, deaths Therefore, because He loved them, and
wished to have them take in and possess the true joys of faith, Christ npbraided
His disciples with their nnbeUef . They deserved and required ciiiding, for thtiu
XVI.] 8T, MARK. 713
anbelief waa due to their own hardness of heart, not to the want of evidence.
The Lord's valedictory admonition is repeated to us again to-day. We may not
have doubted that He rose from the dead, but have we so believed as to take all
the momentous implications of Christ's resufreclioiT borne to our souls, and to have
them Uving in our lives? (Rom. vi. 4-6; Col. iii. 1, 2.) II. Odb departino
Savioub's commakdb. Another manifestation of His love. He would that all should
be saved. 1. The gospel must be preached. This is a Divin6 wort, and a binding
obligation. No Christian is exempt from the duty, and none excluded from the
privilege and honour of taking part in it, according to his sphere and measure. ^
2. The gospel must be heard. 3. The sacrament of baptism must be administered
Faith without obedience is nothing, and salvation is promised only to him " who
believeth and is baptized." It may seem to be a very small thing— a mere insig-
nificant ceremony ; but in whatever way men look upon it Jesus appointed it, and
has connected with it all the sublime benefits of His mediation. lU. Oub depabtino
Satioub'b pbomibes (Heb. ii. 4 ; Acts xvi. 16-24 ; xix. 11, 12). Many demons, also,
of pride, covetousness, uncleanness, drunkenness, gluttony, ambition, lust, hatred,
moroseness, and spirits of wickedness innumerable, did the apostles expel by their
preaching, turning men from their idols to serve the living and true God (Acts
u. 6-11 ; X. 46; xxviii. 1-6; iii. 1-9; ix. 33-35; xiv. 8-11). Time would fail to
tell the works of healing wonder which the disciples wrought in the name of Jesus
by prayer and the laving on of hands, in which the Master fulfilled His promise.
Nor was the promise or the fulfilment of it confined to them alone. It is still
outstanding, firm, and good ; and always must hold good, as long as the gospel is
preached, and men are found to believe it. IV. Thk dkpaeturb itself. No
thunder, as at Sinai ; no darkness, as at the crucifixion ; no overpowering radiance,
as at the transfiguration. Only the gentle lifting up of the hands to bless. (J. A.
8eu$, D,D.) Upbraided them :— 1. That He might keep them humble through
the memory of their past weakness, and their readiness at all times to fall away
from Him. 2. He reminds them of their incredulity and blindness of heart, so
that they might be gentler in dealing with those who sinned, and who were unable
to perceive and hold the truth. 8. He did so also for our sakes in order that
we may not doubt, seeing that they so greatly doubted, and yet had all their doubts
removed by the dear evidence of their own senses. Their faithlessness is the j^
stimulus to our faith, and their doubt removes all ground of doubt from us. And
in thus showing the httleness of their faith and their natural unaptness to be His
messengers, Christ indicates the greatness of that gift which was able to overcome
all natural disqualifications, and to make these doubting disciples the faithful
ministers and stewards of His gospel. Those who had fled when no real danger
existed He sends into the midst of a people thirsting for their blood ; those who
had not comprehended Him He chooses for the work of making others comprehend
Him ; those who had not believed in the very witnesses of His resurrection He
sends forth as the witnesses themselves of this same truth, that so we might know
that the promulgation of Christianity is the direct work, not of men, but of God.
{W. Denton, M.A.) EffecU of uncertainty ;— If one should go into the Louvre at
Paris, and see the Venus de Milo, and begin to have admiration for that highest
eonception of a noble woman held by the Greek mind, and his guide should
whisper to him, "It is very uncertain whether this is the original statue ; in the
time of Napoleon it was stolen, and it is said that it was sent back ; but many
think that another was made in imitation of it, and put in its place, and that this
is the imitation," it would kill that man's enthusiasm in a second ; and he is not
going to say, *' I admire that countenance," because it may not be that counte-
nance. And the moment you introduce the element of uncertainty in regard to
any substantial religious conviction, your doubt has taken away that enthusiasm
which only goes oot toward certainty. {Beecher,)
▼er. 15. Oo ye Into idl the world and preach the gospeL Ckrist*$ eommusion
CO EU apostles /—I. Thk wobk. Preaching the gospel. 1. Speaking. Much of the
real and useful work of life is wrought by words. They are the tools of almost
•very worker in some department of his toiU In preaching the gospel they are
the chief agency. 2. The gospel. Gospel, in the lips of Jesus, represented facts
in the eternal past and in the eternal future— promises, predictions. His own history,
dispensations of the grace of God, and certain aspects of the government of God ;
and gospel, to the ears of the eleven, represented the same central truths, with
Uto outlying truths unrevealed, so that they could not mistake what Jesus meant
714 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. (cha». xn.
wHen He said, " Preach the gospel.** 8. A new work this. Not preaching merely
— that was old enough ; but preaching the gospel. 4. A Divine work. Conuuenoed
by God Himself. A work which claims high esteem for all engaged in it ; ft work
in which the loftiest ambition may be satiated ; a work whose results surpass in
blessedness the creation of earth and heaven. II. Thb workmen. 1. Men of
little refinement or education. This gave them sympathy with the common people,
if not influence over them. 2. Men of ordinary secular occupations. 8. Great
varieties of natural character among them. No two were alike. Yet these very
different men were called to do the same work. The same gospel may be preached
in very different st^es with equal success. 4. They had received special training
for their special work. As more was expected from them than from others, more
had been done for them. 5. Yet they were far from being perfect men. Just
before this commission was addressed to them they were upbraided by Christ with
their unbelief and hardness of heart. A perfect man or a perfect preacher is not
necessary for the preaching of a perfect gospel. 6. Although not perfect men, they
were men to whom special promises were made — promises of the presence of Christ
and of the Holy GhosT^-^prdrnises of power. 7. They were^r.epresentative men,
foundation men, men who had to begin what others should carry on. Iir."^ Th»
SPHERE OF WOBK. The wholo world. No limitations of country or climate ; no dis«
tinctions of barbarism and civilization, bondage and freedom, preparedness or
otherwise of particular peoples. Wherever there were men these workmen were
to go. *♦ Every creature '* — for every creature hath sinned, and every creature is
guilty before God, and every creature is going astray, and every creature is liable
to punishment. For every creature there is gospel enough and to spare. What a
glorious sphere for working — the world, man, men, all men, every creature I And
what work I These workmen are builders of a temple that shaU fill the world,
and stewards of wealth which shall enrich the world, and ambassadors upon an
errand of supreme importance to the world, and sowers in the field of the world, by
whose agency the wilderness shall become a fruitful field, men shall be reconciled
to God, the poor shall become heirs of God, and "the tabernacle of God," Ac.
(Rev. xxi. 3, 4). IV, Thb Masteb of the workmeh. He who saith *♦ Go," came
into the world. He who saith " Go ye," Himself came : came not by deputy or
proxy, but Himself came. He who saith " Go ye and preach," Himself preached.
He who saith •♦ Go ye and preach the gospel," is the gospel. He who saith " Go
into the world to every creature," is the propitiation for the sins of the world.
With such a Master the lack of willing workmen is truly wonderful. Shall we
neglect to obey? Shall we undervalue obedience as a means of redemption to
others? All cannot preach, but all can repeat the faithful saying, that Jesus
Christ came into the world to save sinners, and all can unite in sending forth men
qualified to preach, and in sustaining such men by contributions of property, by
manifestations of sympathy, and by prayer, (S, Martin, D.D.) Missionary
zeal : — A ragged-school teacher went out into tne lanes of our city to bring in
neglected children. He found a child, the very incarnation of wickedness and
wretchedness, and led her to the school. There she heard expounded and applied
the parable of the prodigal son. Shortly after the child was seized by fever, and
the teacher visited her. In one of his visits he read this parable, and when he came
to the words, *' When he was yet a great way off his father saw him, and had com-
passion, and ran, and fell on his neck, and kissed him," the child exclaimed, " Ah,
that was just hke me I That's good ; say it again — ' a great way off ! ' What, ever
so far, away, away, like me with the devil ? That must be far from God and the
Lamb. Yes 1 I was a great way off. How good 1 how kind I But I'm afraid I
have been worse than that bad son. Still, I have said • Dear Jesus, I want to love
you, I want to get away from the devil ; please help me.' And I think He heard
me, for I have felt somehow different ever since. I am not afraid now ; no, not
one bit." When death was so near that it was supposed that all power of utterance
was gone, she aroused herself, and said, in a clear and distinct voice, evidently
referring to destitute children allowed still to wander through the streets and lanes
of the city : ** Fetch them in ; oh, be sure and fetch them in ! Fetch them in and tdl
them of Jesus, tell them of Jesus; oh, be sure and fetch them in." {Ibid.) The
apostolic eommiition : — L This commission is most important in its natcbb. Con-
sider— 1. Its Divine origin. 2. Its adaptation to the circumstances of mankind. 8.
Its efficiency. 4. Its individuality. One and the same salyation for all and efteh.
One common remedy for the universal disease. If there were some given pIao«
where all must needs be, and many roads led to it, it woold not be essentially ini'
. XTL] ST, MARK, 711
portant which we took ; bat if there were bat one road which woold condact the
traveller to the place where all should be, how carefully should that road be sought !
And is not Christ the only way to heaven ? U. This commission is liSairiMATE ux
ITS AnTHOBiTT. It is the command of the King of kings, and Lord of lords. And
His authority is twofold. 1. It is official — by delegation from His Father. 2. It
is essentiaL Authority without control, in. This commission is official m its
EXEcuTioH. It is to bc douc by preaching. There is a special commission for
those sent oat to preach. 1. The preacher must have a personal realization of
the benefits of the gospel in his own heart. How can an unbeliever inculcate
faith ? How can an impenitent man call sinners to repentance ? 2. The preacher
must have an ardent love to the fallen souls of men. 3. He must have a solemn,
heartfelt impression, that the Author of the gospel requires this at his hands. 4.
He must have suitable qualifications. 5. He must have the sanction of his brethren
in the ministry. IV. This commission is univkbsaIj in its extent. 1. Universal
in point of place. 2. Universal in point of persons. Conclusion : 1. This subject
enables us to meet the infidel objection which is urged against the gospel on the
ground of its partial diltusion. This is not God's fault. He commands that His
salvation be proclaimed to the ends of the world. 2. How loud is the call on our
gratitude that the gospel has been proclaimed to as. 3. How imperative is the
obligation that we hand it on to others. {R. Newton.) Reasons for the preaching
of the gospel : — I. The wobld knows not God. By its own wisdom it cannot find
Him oat. Instruction needed which God alone can impart. God has imparted
the knowledge of Divine things to some, and ordered them to convey that know-
ledge to the rest of the world. II. The temporal miseries or the heathen are
vsBT GREAT. To what torturc do they submit in their blind devotion to false gods !
Hasten to lead them oat of their ignorance and superstition into the light of the
knowledge of the only true God. III. The woe that awaits them betond the
ORAVB. What an education for eternity is theirs ! IV. The gospel is the power
ow God to ktbry one who becsiteb it. {H. Townley. ) The duty of Ghristiam
with retpeet to mi$non$ :^1. The natubb of this command. U. The extent of
this oommamd. IIL The period when this command was giysh. {J, Langley,
M.A.) Oood news for you : — L The gospel is a revelation of love. Is tiiere
not sunshine enough in the sky for your daily paths, and is there not enough water
in the ocean to bear your small craft ? The love of God is like the sunshine, and
His goodness is like the ocean ; there is enough for you ; and if you will but take
the gospel as meant for you, His great love shall be shed abroad in your heart by
the power of the Holy Ghost. U. The gospel also is a provision of peace. It
takes tiie sting from trouble ; it takes the pain from sickness ; it breathes to all,
hope, paradise, joy. And it imparts peace at all times. Wherever you are, what-
soever you may be, and through whatever yoa may pass, the gospel gives you a
peace that sustains you safely. Like yonder impregnable British fortress at Gib-
raltar, so God's peace shall keep you. The waves may dash against that ancient
fortress, and guns may burst their fire-balls upon it, but that rock is impregnable ;
held by British hearts it shall stand against all the foes of the world. So God's
peace shall enter your soul, and keep yoa in all the trials and storms of Ufe. UI.
The gospel is a call to libertt. What is it that causes men to feel the pstin of
guilt f It is that they are afraid of being discovered ; they are afraid of men
pointing the finger of scorn at them. But how blessed to know that when we stand
before the bar of God all our sins shall be blotted out. IV. The gospel is an
INSPIRATION OF POWER. It tells US that the Lord shall stand up in your heart and
raise a standard, which shall hurl back the flood of sin. However great the torrent
may be the Lord shall breathe power to check it. V. The gospel is the inspira-
tion or POWER TO BE HOLT. We caimot in our own strength run the heavenly
race ; but Jesus enters into us, abides in our hearts, and gives us His own almighty
strength. VI. The gospel also offers a present jot. Blessings, mercies, pardon,
peace — all to be had now. VH. The gospel constrains us to love God, and to
LIVE HOLT UfK8, BT THE MOST POWERFUL MOTTVs. What Can Constrain U3 like the
love of Jesosr {W. Bireh.) Life in the gospel:— I. The gospel is brought to
UB BT Jesus, ovb kxnbicav. U. In the gospel Jesus reveaia to us the charactbb
or GK)D. When yon hold a magnet to a little bit of steel the two are drawn
together, on aoooant of some mysterious affinity between them. So, when a
■incere mind examines the way to Qod pointed out by Jesus in the Gospel, and we
are true as steel to the Saviour-magnet, we are drawn to the breast of oar God.
nL The OHOcr obm or the ooepsL is, that evert human being is roRorvEN. We
716 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap. xn.
forgive men after they have begged us to do so, but Gk)d forgives men before they
ask. IV. EVEBT HAN WHO BINCEBELY BSLIBVE8 THB GOSPEL SHALL BS SAVXO FBOM
iHE powEB OF HIS SIM. Salvation is not a varnish to hide our blemishes ; it is a
new spirit which roots out every sin. V. The gospel is fob evxbt hah. (Ibid.)
Preach, preach, preach everywhere : — I. What it is that wb have to cabby to evbbI
CREATURE. The great truth that " God was in Christ reconciling the world unto
Himself." What is meant by the word preach ? Its meaning is extensive. It in-
cludes all church work for the spread of the gospel. II. What u the extent of
this cohmission ? No limit as to where this gospel is to be preached. No limit
as to the persons to whom it is to be preached. III. The inducement to enlist in
this service, and obey this command. God has said it. It it a dehght to God.
By it the elect are to be gathered out. We should do it for our own sakes. Be-
cause Jesus wills it. IV. What powers have wb to wobb with, and how oah wb
DO it f If all cannot preach, yet they may either teach the young or influence
their own households. (C. H. Spurgeon.) *• Up, guards, and at them "; — Search
ye out, and look what you can 4ft. and whatsoever your hand findeth to do, do with
all your might, for the grave will soon open for you, and there is no work nor
device in the grave whither you are hastening. " Up, guards, and at them," was
said in the day of battle, and I may say it to every Christian. We shall not bless
the world by big schemes, mighty theories, gigantic plans. Little by little grows
the coral reef on which afterwards gardens are to be planted.^ Little by httle must
the kingdom come, each man bringing his mite and laying it down at Jesus' feet.
So breaks the hght. Beam by beam it comes. One by one come the arrows from
the bow of the sun, and at last darkness flies. So, so must break the ever-
lasting mom. (Ibid.) *' Compel them to come in": — He would be a poor
sportsman who would sit in his house and expect the game to come to him. He
that would have it must go abroad for it, and he that would serve his Master
mast go into the highways and hedges, and compel them to oome in. (Ibid.)
A great work ;— Oh, church of God 1 thy Lord has given thee a work almost as
immense as the creation of a world ; nay, it is a greater work than that ; it is to
recreate a world. What canst thou do in this 1 Thou canst do nothing effectively
unless the Holy Spirit shall bless what thou attemptest to do. But that He
will do, and if thou dost gird up thy loins, and thy heart be warm in this en-
deavour, thou shalt yet be able to preach Jesus Christ to every creature under
heaven. {Ibid.) The great commission: — I. It is implied that thxbx is ax
last a gospel in the world; not a history merely, not a philosophy, but a
gospel — a way of salvation for dying men ; a finished thing, to which nothing iB to
be added, and from which nothing is to be taken. U. This commission to preach
the gospel to all the world also implies thb continuity of the Chxtbch as a
PREACHING, teaching BODY. III. The extcusion and establishment of the gospel
through the world, till it evebtwhebe cohes to be a dohinant poweb u
SOCIETY, h an obligation on our part in whatever light we examine it. ^ 1. Consider
the gcjspel as related to whatever is best in human civiliEation. Civilization is but
a secular came for Christianity itselt Popular education comes from the gospel.
As tbe dignity of man is reahzed there comes a liberalizing of government, and
tyrannic dynasties are overthrown. Domestic felicity, hterature and art, are aided
by the gospel. 2. But beyond all this look at the spuritual wants of man to which
the gospel ministers. It transfigures man's whole life. 3. Becall tbe new impres-
sions which we ourselves have received of the greatness and value of the gospeL
We have felt its inspiring energy in our own hearts. 4. Thus we enter the fellow-
ship of the noblest souls of earth — a society grander than that of a mere intellectual
companionship — even with the ancient martyrs. But best of all, the execution of
this great commission brings us into fellowship with Jesus Christ, in His unique
and royal work. {R, S. Storrs, D.D.) Every Christian a preacJier ;— It is often
said that there are not preachers enough to meet the demands of the land and of
tbe world. That may be true. But every living Christian is a preacher. Every
prayerful, earnest, godly hfe is a sermon. There are a hundred ways of preaching
Jesus without choosing a Bible text or standuig in a pulpit. A Wilberforce could
proclaim the gospel of love on the floor of the British Parliament, even though he
wore no surplice and never had a bishop's hand laid upon his honoured head.
George H. Stuart was an apostle of the cross when he organized the Christian
commission for soldiers' tents ; and John Macgregor was another when he organized
the *' Shoe-black Brigades" in the streets of London. Hannah More preached
Chziit in the drawing-room, and Elizabeth Fry in prison-cells, and Florenoe
CHIP. xviO ST, MARK, 717
Nightingale in the hospitals, and Sarah F. Smiley among the negro freedmen of
the South. Our Master scatters Bis commissions very widely. Harlan Page
dropping the tract and the kind word through the city workshops ; John Wana-
maker, the Christian merchant, mustering poor children into his *' Bethany **
mission-house ; James Lennox, giving his gold to huild churches and hospitals ;
the Dairyman's Daughter, murmuring the riaroe of 'Jesus with her faint, dying
▼oice ; George Miiller, housing and feeding God's orphans — all these were effective
and powerful preachers of the glorious gospel of the Son of God. There is a poor
needlewoman in my congregation whose unselfish, cheerful, holy life impresses me
as much as any pulpit message of mine can possibly impress her. A true and noble
life is the mightiest of discourses. It is the sermons in shoes that must convert
the world to Jesus, if it is ever to be converted. {Dr. Guyler.) To every creature : —
Christ's own word for it, come with me to that scene in Jerusalem where the dis-
ciples are bidding Him farewell. Calvary, with all its horrors, is behind Him ;
Gethsemane is over, and Pilate's judgment hall. He has passed the grave, and is
about to take His place at the right hand of the Father. Around Him stands His
little band of disciples, the little church He was to leave to be His witnesses.
The hour of parting has come, and He has some " last words " for them. Is He
thinking about Himself in these closing moments? Is He thinking about the throne
that is waiting Him, and the Father's smile that will welcome Him to heaven ? Is
He going over in memory the scenes of the past ; or is He thinking of the friends
who have followed Him so far, who will miss Him so much when He is gone ? No,
He is thinking about you. You imagined He would think of those who loved Him ?
No, sinner, He thought of you then. He thought of His enemies, those who shunned
Him, those who despised Him, those who killed Him — He thought what more He
could do for them. He thought of those who would hate Him, of those who would
have none of His gospel, of those who would say it was too good to be true, of those
who would make excuse that He never died for them. And then turning to His
disciples, His heart just bursting with compassion. He gives them His farewell
charge: "Go ye into all the world and preach the gospel to every creature."
They are almost His last words, *• to every creature." {D. L. Moody.) Preach
the gospel: — When we ask in these days what does this injunction mean, the
answers which come to us, from within and from without the Church, are many
and discordant. As in the earliest times of Christianity there were pseudo-gospels,
counterfeits, and forgeries, so it is now. I. Amono these pseudo-gospels outside
THE PALE OF THE Chubch WE HAVE — I. The gospol of rcasou ; the idea that man,
by his own mental power, is rapidly acquiring a newer and truer wisdom, which is
to make the world happier and better than it has ever been. It is a religion of the
head, not the heart ; it cannot therefore apprehend spiritual verities. 2. The easy,
plausible gospel of universal toleration and philanthropy, which assumes and
abuses the sacred name of love. Indifferent altogether for truth, caring only for
expediency. Anything for peace. 3. The gospel of sentiment — the religion which
very much resembles those pictures in which the cross is almost hidden by gay-
coloured flowers — satisfying itself with music, sensational preaching, controversial
reading, and much speaking, but shirking the plain uninteresting duties of daily
life, and doing no real work for others, for the soul, and for God. 4. The gospel
of wealth, pleasure, honour, authority, believing (so falsely) that a man's life con-
fists in the abundance of the things he possesses. XL And then, within the
Chubch, how many gospels ? Alas, what sore surprise and sorrow would vex the
righteous soul of one of those who lived in the earlier, happier days of our faith
oould he re- visit this world and witness our unhappy divisions 1 " What has
become," he would say, "of the apostles* doctrine and fellowship? How the
seamless robe of our crucified Lord is rent and torn ; and that, not by declared
enemies, but by professed friends 1 " HI. What, then, are we to preach ? We
must appeal to two friends, whom we shall find in every heart ; two allies who will
help OS ; two witnesses who will come into court. (1) Love and (2) fear. Let all
seek Christ as their Saviour, lest they tremble when He comes to be their Judge.
(S. R. HoUt M.A.) Missionary work for all ChrUtiam : — After these words were
spoken, the missionary duty of the Church, in its nearest and remotest extent,
was as little a matter of doubt as the resurrection. A thousand other things it
may do or neglect ; may have elaborate organization or none ; may build cathedrals,
or pitch tents ; may master all learning and art, or know nothing save Christ and
Him crucified ; but go it must, and preach it must, or it is not Christ's Church.
Toa little children who love Jesoi must tell others of His love. Yoa rich meo
718 THE BIBLICAL ILLV SIR ATOR, [chap, xn,
most work through your money ; you wise men by your wisdom ; you poor uncul-
tured souls through your prayers. Unless you do your utmost to spread the
kingdom, you disobey the first law of the kingdom ; unless your love reaches out to
all men, you have not the spirit of Christ, who died for all. A positive belief and
a missionary spirit have lon^ ago been proved the indispensable characteristics of
a living Church. The Lord speaks in tender tones to rouse our sympathy for those
who are perishing for lack of knowledge. He unfolds the magnificent conception
of the empire of holy love, exalting the continents and blessing the isles. He
stands in the midst of these unredeemed millions and says : " Come. Lo 1 I am
waiting for you here." But behind all invitations stands the command, ** Go,
preach ; " and above them all rises the judgment, for us and for them, with lis
eternal blessedness and eternal woe. (C. M, Soutkgate.) Go : — ♦' I hope,"
says Mr. Enibb, of St. Petersburg, in a letter, ** the subject of devoting ourselves
and our children to God and to His service will be more thought of, and more acted
upon, than it has been hitherto. I am more and more convinced that, if St. Paul
had ever preached from this particular text, he would have laid great stress on the
word * go.' On your peril do not substitute another word for go. Preach is a good
word ; direct is a good word ; collect is a good word ; give is a good word. They
are all important in their places, and cannot be dispensed with. The Lord bless
and prosper tiiose who are so engaged, but still lay the stress on the word go ; for
• how can they hear without a preacher, and how can they preach except they be
sent ? * Six hundred millions of the human race are perishing, and there are per-
haps thirty among all the Christians in Britain who are at this moment preparing
to * go M " TI^ commission : — Words of strong authority from the captain to
the soldier ; from master to servant ; from Redeemer to redeemed ; from king to
subject No doubt as to possibility, no discussing of dangers, no calculating of
results — " Go I " Great oceans, high mountains, wide deserts are in the way ;
shipwreck, fever, starvation, death — ♦• Go 1 " The people are brutish and hard of
heart ; they have slain the Lord; they will not hear the disciple — "Go I " I am
but a child, a man of unclean lips ; I forsook the Lord and fied ; I denied Him —
*' Go 1 •' (CM. Southgate. ) Go ye into all the icorld. — Peculiarity of Christianity : —
There is one feature of Christianity which must strike the mind of every observer,
viz., that no other system of religion in the world is missionary. They all limit
themselves to the people, country, and clime where they have grown. Where are
the missionaries of the religions of China, India, Africa, Persia, or Japan ? But
no sooner was Christianity introduced into the world than it sent forth its agencies
beyond the place oi its introduction. " Jerusalem, Judea, Samaria, and the utmost
parts of the earth " are the scope of its operations. " Go ye into ail the world,
and preach the gospel to every creature," is the command of the Spirit to < all its
agents. And hence Christianity has its agents, institutions, literature, and means
in every quarter of the globe. What does this prove for Christianity ? That, as
a system of rehgion, it is nobler, grander, more benevolent and diffusive than any
other; and the success which has crowned Christianity wherever it has gone
demonstrates that it is Divine in its origin; adapted to all minds, hearts, lives, and
countries ; civilizing, meliorating, saving, and beautifying in its effects ; and the
only religion which can restore a fallen world to its glorious Creator and God
{John Bate,) A strange messenger: — A professional diver said he had in hi,
house what would probably strike a visitor as a very strange chimney ornament —
the shells of an oyster holding fast a piece of printed paper. The possessor of this
ornament was diving on the coast, when he observed at the bottom of the sea this
oyster on a rook, with a piece of paper in its mouth, which he detached, and com-
menced to read through the goggles of his head-dress. It was a gospel tract, and,
coming to him thus strangely and unexpectedly, so impressed his unconverted
heart, that he said, *• I can hold out against God's mercy in Christ no longer, since
it pursues me thus." He became, whilst in the ocean's depth, a repentant, con-
verted, and (as he was assured) sin-forgiven man. Saved at the bottom of the
sea. Universality of the message : — The apostles understood their commission to
be general and indiscriminate for every creature ; so they received it from Him who
laid the foundation of such an extensive ministration by tasting death for every
man. Accordingly, they went forth on their commission, to preach the gospel to
all the world. They did not square their message by any human system of
theology, nor measure their language to the lines of Procrustean creeds. They
employed a dialect that traverse the length and breadth of the world. They did
not tremble for such an unreserv d exhibition of the ark and the mercy-seat. They
wn,} ST, MARK, n9
eoold not bring themselyeB to stint the remedy which was prepared and intended to
restore a dying world, nor would they cramp the bow which God had lighted up in
the storm which threatened all mankind. {Dr. T, W. Jenkyn.) The Chureh*t
orderi : — During the American war, a regiment received orders to plant some heavy
guns on the top of a very steep hill. The soldiers dragged them to the base of the
hill, but were unable to get them any farther. An officer, learning the state of
affairs, said, ** Men, it must be done 1 I have the orders in my pocket." So the
Church has orders to discipline the world. Progresi of mistiona .'—We sometimes
complain of the slow progress of missions, as though nothing had been done. Is
it nothing that the Church has been aroused to her duty 7 that every large branch
of Zion has her missionary organization? that these amount to eighty? that four
thousand missionaries are in the field? that t^e Word of Qod is preached in
fifteen thousand localities of the heathen world 7 ten million dollars are
collected annually to sustain these missions? that six hundred and eighty-seTen
thousand converts are enrolled in Africa, and seven hundred and thirteen thousand
in Asia ? and that, if we add to these die fruits of the Bomish missions, we shall
number Christians by the million in the heathen world ? {Bp, H. M. Thompton.)
The universal gospel : — The late Duke of Wellington once met a young clergyman,
who, being aware of his Grace's former residence in the East, and of his familiarity
with the ignorance and obstinacy of the Hindoos in support of their false religion,
gravely proposed the following question : •• Does not your Grace think it almost
useless and absurd to preach the gospel to the Hindoos ? " The Duke immediately
rejoined: **Look, sir, to your marching orders, * Preach the gospel to every
creature.*** Stteee$s of mi$$ion$: — Carey and his compeers, the first English
Baptist missionaries, laboured seven years before the first Hindoo convert was
baptised. Judson toiled on for years without any fruit of his labour, until the few
churches in this land which sustained him began to be disheartened. He wrote,
*' Beg the churches to have patience. If a ship were here to carry me to any part
of the world, I would not leave my field. Tell the brethren success is as certain as
the promise of a faithful God can make it." The mission was commenced in 1814.
In 1870 there were more than a hundred thousand converts. Vivifying effecU of
mistion* : — As Peter walked at eventide, his lengthened shadow, as it fell on the
gathered sick in the streets of Jemsalem, healed as it swept over them ; even so is
Christianity going through the earth like a spirit of health, and the nations,
miserable and fallen, start up and live as she passes. {F. F. Trench.) The duty
and results of preaching the gospel: — I. The extent ov oub ooMMissioif. 1. ** All
the world '* — ^because all the world is involved in transgression. (1) We learn this
from Scripture (Bom. iii. 19, 23 ; v. 12). (2) Experience confirms this. All the
foundations of the world are out of course. 2. '*A11 the world** — because man's
wants are everywhere the same. All need pardon ; all need enlightenment ; all
need peace. 8. "All the world "—because God has designed to collect a people
for Himself from all the tribM and families of men. II. Ths object ov oub
BMBA88T. To preach the gospel — the glad tidings of mercy and grace. 1. The
gospel most be preached faithfully. Nothing of our own put in ; nothing of God's
left out. 2. The gospel must be preached affectionately. Not to drive men away,
but to gather them in ; not to terrify, but to console. 8. The gospel must be
preached in complete and entire dependence upon the grace of Christ. IIL Thb
VaSUIOB THAT WILL ATTEND THE AOOEPTAMOE OB BEJECTIOM OV OUB MBSSAOB. NOUC
can perish but by their own fault. {Oeorge Weight.) The obligations and
requirements of the gospel : — I. The natubb ow thb Chbxbtxah ukisteb's oomas-
sioN. To preach the gospel, explain its doctrines, to enforce its precepts, to pro-
claim its promises, and to denounce its threatenings. H. Thb end ob nssiaM ov
THB Cheistian hikistbb'b COMMISSION. To prcBch the gospel in all the world and
to every creature. 1. This implies that aU mankind stand in need of the goepeL
2. It implies universality of design on the part of God to bestow the benefits of the
gospel on those who receive it. 8. It implies universal grace and efficiency as
accompanying the ministry of the gospel to render it effectual for the salvation of
all. 4. It implies an obligation on the part of the Church to send its ministers
literally into all the world and to every creature. HI. Thb bequibbmbnts of thb
GOSPEL VBOM THOSE TO WHOM IT IS PBEAOHBD. 1. Thc gospel rcquires faith from
those to whom it is preached. Saving faith consists of two parts. (1) The faith
bj which the sinner is justified. And in this there are three distinct acts, (i)
The assent of the understanding, (ii) The consent of the wflL (iii) The soul's
ii|ose and reliance upon Christ for pardon. (2) The faith bj whicn the Christiaa
720 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [chap, xn
daily lives. Trust. Confidence in God, leading to prompt and willing obedience.
2. Baptism. The duties imposed upon all baptized are — (1) To maintain an open
oonnection with the Church. (2) To defend the cause of Christ against all
adversaries. (3) To live a holy life. IV. The results of the reception ob
REJECTION OP THE GOSPEL. {E. GHndrod.) The duty of $preading the gospel : —
Hnber, the great naturalist, tells us that if a single wasp discovers a deposit ol
honey or other food, he will return and impart the good news to his companions,
who will then sally forth in great numbers to partake of the fare wliich has been
discovered for them. Shall we who have found honey in the rock Christ Jesus be
less considerate of our fellow-men than wasps are of their fellow-insects ? (C H.
Spurgeon.) The gospel for every creature : — I heard of a woman once who
thought that there was no promise in the Bible for her ; they were all for other
people. One day she got a letter, and, when she opened it, found it was not for
her at all, but for some other woman of the same name. It led her to ask herself,
" If I should find some promise in the Bible directed to me, how should I know
that it meant me, and not some other woman ? " And she found out that she must
just take God at His word, and include herself among the " whosoevers " and the
" every creatures " to whom the gospel is freely preached. (D. L.Moody.) The
great commission : — Christianity and missions are inseparable. A Christian is one who
professes to obey Jesus. Jesus has distinctly told us to go and preach the gospel through-
out the world ; therefore, whatever objections may be brought against Christian mis-
sions, are really brought against the authority of Christ and against Christianity itself.
The Christian who opposes Christian missions is an anomaly. Some philosophers
may say that Christianity is unsuited to the circumstances of every nation. Some
philanthropists may say there is a better method of doing good to the world ; some
patriots may say that all we can do should be done in our own country ; some
politicians may say that it is unwise to interfere with the established institutions of
other countries ; some practical men may say the results accomplished are not
worth the pains taken. Now, if we have no distinct reply to any of these objec-
tions, it is sufficient that we are ander the orders of Christ, and those orders we
must comply with. Suppose that when the commander-in-chief of an army calls
his ofl&cers to him and says : " You are to storm every battery, to attack every
position, of the enemy," then the subordinate officers were to say ; ♦* I can't see
the reason of this ; there's an insuperable difficulty yonder ; we had better delay
; the execution of the command." It would be monstrous, although it might be that
I your commander is mistaken, or perhaps the command itself is ambiguous. But
I in this case the command is net ambiguous ; nothing could be more clear — go ; go
* everywhere, go everywhere and preach ; preach the gospel to every one. Nothing
could be plainer. And then there is great emphasis given to the command by the
circumstances under which it was uttered. A command in battle may be given in
the time of conflict, and so the order may be mistaken ; but this command was not
given under the excitement of conflict ; the conflict was over, the battle finished,
the victory over death had been won, and calmly, as by a conqueror, this word of
command was given. We think much of the last words of any one who addresses us.
These are Christ's last words: there is great emphasis about them. Part of
Christ's work was complete, the great work of offering a sacrifice for the world ;
but part of Christ's work was not complete, the work of publishing the gospel. His
own personal ministry was limited — in locality, in time — it only extended over
Palestine, and only lasted three years. But the ministry of Christ in the publica-
tion of His gospel was to be continued through the agency of His Church. I.
What ? what is it we have to do ? 1. Preach the gospel. The world had to be
possessed for Christ. By the emplo3mient of what weapons ? Shall swordd and
spears be collected, soldiers trained, armies organized ? *' Preach the gospel."
Shall the arts of diplomacy be used ? Shall statesmen and rulers be upraised so
that they may pass laws by which whole communities under their influence shall
be gathered, at least outwardly, into the Church? "Preach the gospel." Shall
the servants of Christ be engaged to amass wealth, so that by money — which is said
to be able to do everything — we may purchase the adhesion of the world? "Preach
the gospel." Disdaining these carnal methods referred to, shall we apply ourselves
to other methods more spiritual ? Shall we apply ourselves to philosophy? Shall
we take ourselves to the current theories of the day, and try to overcome the
prejudices of the learned, and win the intellect of the wise ? ** Preach the gospel."
2. What, then, is this gospel? Good news. That, then, is the gospel— the
SftTioor— Christ And this gospel is to be preached — not displayed in outward
9au9. TfU] 8T, MARK. 711
forms and znystie oeremonies, ab the oeremonies of the Old Testament indioated
typically the glory that was to oome. Go and preach it, declare the truth, speak it
to men's minds, that it may enter their hearts. 3. But why should it be preached f
by men 7 Why should it not have been made knovra by some supernatural,
miraoolons manner to every one? Why the delay connected with preaching?
There are mysteries we cannot solve. The arts and sciences have been left for
man to work out. God gives us the materials for food — we prepare them ; pro-
vides the land — we have to cultivate it ; gives salvation — we have to accept it ; the
gospel message — we have to propagate it. Then, again, we might say our own
spiritual culture requires this work ; it would be an injurious thing for us if we had
not this work to do. It is not likely we oan understand all the mysteries of the
Divine procedure, but there is the distinct precept we have to obey. " Preach the
gospel." II. Why ? Ancient predictions prepared us for this commission. Some
say — ^we all say — charity begins at home, so the commission runs, *• beginning at
, Jerusalem." The apostles unfurled the banner of the cross at Jerusalem, and then
went forth displaying it before all the world. Very soon after they began to preach
at Jerusalem the gospel was proclaimed at Damascus, Ephesus, Athens, Borne, and
afterwards it extended to Macedonia, Spain, and Britain. Does some one say our
own eoontry needs all we can do to benefit mankind, all our efforts and all our
money, let as wait till all evil is rectified in our own land ? Then I would ask
who are doing the most for their own land ; are they not generally found to be
those who are doing most for other lands 7 But cannot man be saved without
bearing the gospel ? Why therefore go to them ? That might be said with reference
to people here in England. Why preach at home ? If the objection holds good
in one case, it would hold good in the other. " Go into all the world." But don't
you increase the responsibility of a nation when you make known to them the
gospel, supposing they reject it 7 Is not the man more guilty the more he knows 7
Such an objection would apply equally to preaching at home, so we should have no
preaching at all. But if one country in the world is well adapted for this particular
system of truth, there are other countries that are altogether different from that
eoontry, and what is fit for it cannot be good for the other. '* Go ye into all the
world." We keep to our commission ; the command is very clear. Well, but some
^jUUZIitnejS are too cold; their icy mountains frown away the fanatics who would go to
those shivering wretches gorging their blubber in their snow-huts to try and explain
to them the mysteries of Christianity. " Go into all the world." But some
eountries are too hot ; the burning suns, scorching blast, and arid deserts forbid the
tBings that are suited to temperate climes. " Go into all the world." But some
nations are highly civilized, and don't need your gospel as savage nations do.
**Go into all the world." But some are two barbarous, eating one another, and
looking hungrily at yon ; it's madness to go and teach them the mysteries of
Christianity. "Go into all the world." Bat some parts of the world are the
homes of ancient idolatries ; their gods are visible, and their worship is fortified by
the indulgence of cruelty and lust. It is impossible to win such nations to the pure
worship of an invisible Spirit. " Go into all the world." But some nations are
the worshippers of one God with a comparatively pure form of faith ; why disturb
them 7 " Go into all the world." But your religion of the West cannot be suited
to the oostoms of the East. That which suits Anglo-Saxons cannot suit Orientals.
But onr religion had its birthplace in the East. Missionaries from Syria first
came to Britain ; now we take back the gospel that we received from them. The
gospel has been preached throughout the world : it has gone back to Palestine,
^gyp^f Jndea, Samaria, and the uttermost parts of the earth. The Anglc-Saxon race
— Uie depositories of Christianity — have spread through the world ; our commerce
is in every country, our ships sail over every sea, our language is spoken in every
clime ; by the aid of printing, Bibles and books are multiplied in almost every
language. XII. To whom 7 ** To every creature." Not only to nations, you will
observe, as ^ongh we could convert a nation at once by gaining over the rulers
and their passing laws. No; "go and preach the gospel to every creature."
Christianity is a personal thing. Believe thou the gospel. It is for every creature.
Ood woold not invite to a banquet those for whom there was no room. Yes, for
•* every creature." Christ, who constitutes the gospel, is Divine, and therefore
Infinite ; if not Divine, and merely human, there would be a limitation about His
powtf. ** To every creature." The most unlikely persons to receive the goepel
DATa often been the first to accept it. Publicans and harlots enter the kingdom
of heaven before some of those who seemed to be far advanced on the way ; Uiere-
46
Tit THE BIBLICAL ILLU8TRAT0IL [ohaf. m.
fore we are to piteaoh, not only to barbarous tribes as saoh, bat to the most
degraded specimens of those tribes. What 1 to this hoary-headed heathen whose
heathenism is bound up in his very life? "Every creature." What I to this
fierce cannibal gloating over his victories? *• Every creature.** What I to this
wild tenant of the woods whose intellect seems little above the intellect of the
brutes ; who seems as if he had no wishes but the most debased of his own debased
people. "To every creature." What I to this man of cultivation? "Every
creature.*' It is for sinners, and I am a sinner. It is for all, and I am one of the
all ; and so, having received it, I publish it to others. {N. Hall, LL.B.)
Ver. 16. He that belleveth and li baptlied ahall be savtd. — On that belief
which is necessary to baptism: — The text is an abridgement of our Lord's last
instructions to His apostles before His ascension. Other parts of the same dis-
course are to be found in Matt, xxviii. 18-20 ; John xz. 21. See also Luke xxiv.
45. By comparing these passages with this, it will appear that by " believing and
being baptized," St. Mark plainly means, " believing, repenting, and obeying the
gospel " — three things which cannot be separated from each other. He who
believes the doctrine of the gospel when preached to him, and by baptism enters
into an obligation to live suitably to that belief, and verifies that obligation by his
practice, in a life of virtue, righteousness, and charity — shall be saved ; but he who
rejects the doctrine of the gospel, when duly and reasonably proposed to him, or
pretending to embrace it, yet obeys it not — shall be damned. I. The subject-
MATTEB OF THE BELIEF NBCESSABY TO SALVATION. 1. A doctrinC of practice, virtUO,
and righteousness, within the comprehension of all men. 2. It is to be found in
our very nature and reason. 3. It is delivered to us, over and over again, in the
Scriptures. 4. It is briefly, but sufficiently, stated in the creeds of the Church.
II. The matubs and extent of the act of BELiEviNa. 1. A firm persuasion,
founded upon reasonable and good grounds. Not such a careless credulity as, like a
foundation in the sand, quickly suffers whatever is built upon it to fall to the
ground (Prov. xiv. 14 ; Acts xvii. 11). Wise believers will — (1) Consider the purity
and excellence of the doctrine itself, and its accordance with reason, and the nature
and attributes of God. (2) Ponder the evidence of the miracles wrought by Christ.
(3) Examine the prophecies which went before concerning Him, and compare the
actions of His life therewith. (4) Consider also the prophecies that He Himself
delivered, and His apostles after Him, and compare them with the whole series of
events from that time to this. Thus they will work in themselves ft firm per-
suasion, founded upon reasonable and good grounds. 2. Such a persuasion of
mind as produces suitable and proper effects. (S. Clarke, D.D.) The necessity of
believing : — I. Objections which have been made to the fact that, in the great con-
cern of man's salvation, so much stress is laid upon faith. 1. Objections respecting
persons. Many have never heard of Christ or His gospel. True ; therefore they
cannot be included in the statement of the text. They are in the hands of »
gracious God, who may bestow on them the mercies of a redemption of which they
never heard. The same will apply to infants, idiots, insane persons, and those of
defective understanding. God will not exact the tale of bricks, where He has not
thought proper to furnish straw. We may conclude, in like manner, concerning
what is called invincible ignorance, or ignorance so circumstanced as to admit of no
remedy. Where nothing is taught, nothing can be learned. But let a man be very
cautious how he attempts to shelter himself under this plea. At the great day it
will be inquired very minutely, not only what we did know, but also what we might
have known had we so pleased — had we been in earnest and taken due pains.
However it may fare with the heathen and others, in a state really destitute of
information, we shall in vain attempt to excuse our unbelief, or misbelief, by our
ignorance. 2. Objections respecting doctrines. (1) They are mysterious; they
relate to persons and things in another world, which are therefore hidden from us.
What, then, is to be done ? Why, certainly, we must believe what God has been
pleased to reveal concerning them ; and we must form our notions of them, as well
as we can, by comparison with those things which are the objects of our senses.
Our state, with regard to God and the glories of His heavenly kingdom, is exactly
like the state of a blind man, with regard to the sun, and the light thereof. He
cannot see the sun, or the light that issues from it ; yet he would be unreasonable,
should he refuse to believe what his friends, who do see it, tell him concerning it ;
though, after all, they can but give him a very poor, imperfect idea of it. If it
~ Ood to open his eyes, and bestow on him the blessing of sight, he would
CHAP, xn.} ST. MARK* 723
Imow more of the matter in one single moment, than deseription, study, and medi-
iation ooald have taught him in ten thousand years. Such is our case. We cannot
see God — the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit — we cannot see how they are
three, and yet one. But shall we therefore, in opposition to the authority and word
of God Himself, deny that they are so f We may reason and dispute upon the
eubject for ages ; but in that instant when we are admitted to His presence, and see
Him as He is, every doubt and difficulty will vanish at once ; and we shall know
bow little we did know, or possibly could know, before. (3) Learned men have
been engaged in controversies about these doctrines for many hundred years, and
are not yet agreed ; what, therefore, must the unlearned do ? (i) Learned men have
carried on controversies about everything. If we waited till they were agreed among
themselves, we should believe nothing, and do nothing, (ii) All the £sputes con-
cerning the Trinity, have been owing to the vain, idle, and presumptuous curiosity
of men, who, instead of believing what God has revealed will ever be prying into
that which He has not revealed. IL Thb obounds and bbaboms ov faith. Little
need be said as to this. For, to what purpose is the gospel preached, unless that it
should be believed? When God, with so stupendous a preparation of prophecies
And miracles, has published His Word, can it be a matter of indifference whether
we believe it or not? No ; the Divine Word is not an insignificant Word ; it is set,
like its Author, for the falling or rising of many. It is not without its effect in every
one to whom it is preached. A strange doctrine has of late years been diffused
among us ; that sincerity is everything, and that if a man be but sincere, it matters
tiot what he beheves, or what he does. If this principle be carried to its full extent,
it must take away all distinctioc between truth and falsehood, right and vrrong : it
«ets upon a level those who crucified Christ, and those who accepted Him as their
Lord and Master ; those who persecuted the Christians, and the Christians who
were persecuted. Before a man can lay any claim to sincerity, in the full and
proper sense of the word, he must be able to show, when God, to whom all things
are known, and all hearts are open, shall call upon him, that he has not, through
indolence, neglected to search after the truth ; nor, through passion, prejudice, or
interest, refused to receive it. This will go to the bottom of the dispute, and lay
open the deception. It will enable us likewise to answer another plea sometimes
urged in favour of infidelity, viz., that there can be no merit, or demerit, in be-
lieving, or disbelieving ; that a man cannot believe as he pleases, but only as the
evidence appears to him. Answer : If God have given, as He certainly has, good and
Boffioient evidence, it is at any man's peril that he rejects it ; and he rejects it, not
beoanse the evidence is insuf&cient, but because his own heart is corrupt. {Biihop
Home.) ChrUVt last words: — These words require as serious attention as any
ever spoken. They are the words of the risen Christ, and His last words. They
«ontain in them the sum of the gospel. Life and death, and the conditions
of both ; the terms of eternal happiness and misery. If a malefactor at the
bar should see the judge going about to declare to him upon what he might
expect life or death, how diligently he wocQd attend. All sinners are male-
factors. The Judge of heaven and earth declares here, upon what terms we
may live, though we be cast out, found guilty, and condemned. It is not a
matter of credit or estate, but a matter of life and death, of liie life of our
fionls. It is no less than eternal life or eternal death that these words concern.
Faith and unbelief: — Salvation or damnation depend upon faith and unbelief. No
salvation but by faith. Nothing but damnation by unbelief. Faith is the principal
«aving grace, and unbelief the chief damning sin. No sin can danm without this,
mnd this will danm without any other sin (John iii. 18). Where there is not faith,
the sentence of condemnation is in full force. UnbeUef is the symptom of eternal
death. There is nothing but death to be expected where this continues ; no hope
of eternal life for him who continues in unbelief. He is dead while he Uvea ; in
hell while on earth. This being so, it concerns us to know what it is to believe.
Faith comprises — 1. Knowledge. If knowledge be not faith, yet there can be no
faith without knowledge. Blind faith is good for nothing but to lead people into
the ditoh. That ignorance is the mother of devotion is one of the principles of the
father of lies. Bather, it ii the nurse of unbelief. The first step to conversion is to open
the eyes, to scatter darkness (Acts xxvi. 18). The first thing God produces in the soul,
as in the natural creation, is light. The convert must have a competent knowledge of
the mysteries of the gospel — a knowledge more distino , more convincing, more affect-
ing, than that which he had in the state of unbelief 2. Assent. As to the prin-
«ipleB of the doctrine of Christ, so wpecially to the following truths. (1) That Le
724 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [ohaf. ifl.
needs a Sayioar. Soriptnre declares this upon three groonds — (a) the sinfnhiess oi
a natural man; (6) his misery; (c) hie inability to free himself from it. (2) That
Christ is the only all-sufficient Saviour. 3. Reliance upon the Lord Jesos Christ.
Not to believe Him, but to believe on Him (Acts xix. 4; Rom. ix. 33 ; Gal. iii. 24;
Eph. i. 15 ; &o.). Not to give credit to, but to rely on Him. This is the essence,
the formality of saving faith. There cannot be justifying faith without knowledge
and assent, though there may be knowledge and assent without it ; these are as the
body to faith, this relying is the souJ ; without this, knowledge and assent are but
a carcase. The devils and hypocrites may have more knowledge, and they may have
as firm an assent, but this act is above their reach, and they never attain it.
{Ibid.) The nature of faith : — 1. To believe is to come to Christ ; to betake our-
selves to Him. In Heb. x. 22, we are exhorted to come with full sail, with all haste,
as a ship when it makes all its sail. There is no sanctuary for a guilty soul but
Christ only ; therefore the sinner must fly to the tabernacle of the Lord, and take
hold of the horns of the altar. 2. To believe in Christ is to lean upon Him, to stay
and rest on Him. None but Christ can stay the sinner's soul from falling inta
everlasting burnings. 3. To believe in Christ is to adhere to him, to cleave to Him,
cling about Him. A man that has suffered shipwreck is left to the mercy of the
waves ; has nothing in his reach to save him but some plank or mast. How will
he cling to it ! how fast will he clasp I He will hold it as if it were his life (2 Kinge
xviii. 5 ; Deut. iv. 4). So Christ is our only security. 4. To believe in Christ is to
roll, to cast ourselves upon Him (Psa. xxii. 8 ; xxxvii. 5 ; Iv. 23). Sin is a heavy,
a most grievous burden (Amos ii. 13). The weight of sin, though Christ had none
of His own, made Him sweat blood. It is burdened with the wrath and heavy
indignation of God ; it is clogged with the curses and threatenings of the law. Na
wonder if one sin be as a millstone about the neck of the soul, able to sink it into
the bottom of hell. But though so burdensome, yet the sinner, before conversion,
feels no weight in it. How can he, seeing he is dead ? Cast rocks and moun-
tains upon a dead man, and he feels them- not. Ay, but when the Lord begins to
work faith, and brings the sinner to Himself, then he feels it burdensome indeed,
and groans under its weight. None can ease him but Christ ; and Christ bids him
come, and lay his burden on Him. Glad tidings these ; the sinner closes with
Christ, rolls himself, oasts his burdened soul upon Him, and so believes. 6. To
believe in Christ is to apply Him. It is an intimate application, such as that of
meat and drink by one pinched with hunger and fainting with thirst (John vi. 51-
56). Nothing can save the soul, but a draught of the water of life, a taste of Christ.
6. To believe in Christ is to receive Him. A condemned person upon the scaffold*
all the instruments of death ready, and nothing wanting but one blow to separate
soul and body, while he is possessed with sad apprehensions of death one unex-
pectedly comes and brings him a pardon. Oh, how will his heart welcome it 1 How
will his hands receive it, as though his soul were in his hands 1 So here. 7. To
believe in Christ is to apprehend Him, to lay hold of Him, to embrace Him. As in
the case of Peter walking on the water to come to Christ : so, to walk in the ways of
sin, is to walk as it were upon the waters ; there is no sure footing, how bold soever
sinners are to venture. If God's patience were not infinite, we should sink every
moment. The sensible sinner begins to see his danger, patience will ere long with-
draw, it will not be always abused ; a tempest of wrath will arise ; nay, he finds it
grow boisterous, it does already ruffle his conscience, he is as sure to sink as if he
were walking upon the waves. Nay, he feels his soul already sinking ; no wondev
if he cry out as a lost man, as one ready to be swallowed up in a sea of wrath. Bnt
now Christ stretches out His hand in the gospel, and the soul stretches itself out
and lays hold on the everlasting arm which alone can save it. This may be suffi-
cient to discover the nature of faith. But for further evidence, observe what is
included in it, as appears by what has gone before. (1) A sense of misery. It is »
sensible dependence, therefore more than simple assent. A man who has read or
heard much of the sad effects of war, may assent, believe that it is a great misery
to be infected with war. Ay, but when the enemy is at his door, when they are
driving his cattle and plundering his goods and firing his houses, he not only
assents to it, he sees, he feels the miseries of it; he has more sensible, more
affecting apprehensions of it than ever before. So a sinner who continues in
unbelief, hearing the threatenings and wrath denounced against onbelievers,
may assent to the statement that unbelievers are in a miserable condition ; but
when the Lord is working faith, he brings this home to himself, he sees justioe
ready to leiae on him, he feels wrath kindling upon him. EDb now not only
. xn.] ST. MARK. 725
believes it, bnt has a qnick sense of it. (2) A rejecting of other supports.
Dependence upon Christ alone. When the soul, feeling the flame of wrath kindling
upon her, cries out as one already perishing, " None but Christ, none but
Christ," then he is on the highway to faith. But alas ! bo averse are we,
naturfiily, to Christ, that He is the last thing a sinner looks after. Till he
apprehend himself as an orphan, without strength, without counsel, all his sup-
ports dead which were a father to him, he will not betake himself to Christ as
his only guardian ; till he thus betakes himself to Christ, he beUeves not.
(3) Submission. Faith is a very submissive grace. Sin and wrath lie so heavy, that
the soul bends itself gladly to whatever the Lord will. If the shipwrecked man can
get to shore, can save himself from drowning, he regards not the wetting of bis
clothes, the spoiling of his goods ; a greater matter is in danger. So it is with a
sinner in whom faith is working. His soul is in a sea of wrath, and he is ready to
sink. If he can but reach Christ, get to shore, he is content, though he come there
naked, stripped of all that was otherwise dear to him. (4) Eesolution to persist in
his dependence. When Satan or his own guilty soul tells him that he must come
forth, there is no mercy for such a traitor, such a heinous offender ; nay, says the
believing soul, but if I must die, I will die here ; if justice smite me, it shall smite
me with Christ in my arms ; though He kill me, yet will I rely on Him ; here will
I live or here will I die ; I will not quit my hold, though I die for it. (5) Support.
He is on the Bock of Ages ; he who stays on Him stands firm ; he cannot but have
some support for the present, though he has little confidence, no assurance. (6) A
consent to accept Christ on His own terms. The will is naturally closed against
Christ, but consent opens it ; and when the will is open to receive Him, it always
receives Him ; when it opens, it consents ; when it consents, it receives, i.e., believes.
(Ibid.) T?ie misery of unbelievers : — A dreadful representation of this here. 1.
The unbeliever is without Christ, the fountain of life. His heart is the habitation
of the devil. He has no rights in Christ. Nothing to do with the righteousness ol
Christ. Nor with the intercession of Christ. No life in him, 2. He is without
the covenant, the evidence of life. The promises are not for him. Nothing is sealed
to him but condemnation. 3. Without grace, the beginning of life. How finely
soever the sepulchre is painted and beautified without, if faith be not within there
is nothing but dead bones and rottenness ; nothing bnt what is as loathsome in the
eye of God as the rottenness of a dead carcase is to us. 4. He has no title to heaven,
which is eternal life. 5. He is far from life ; so far as never to come in sight of it,
never see it. 6. The wrath of God abides on him. (1) Wrath. Not anger or dis-
pleasure merely, though that were dreadful ; but wrath — subhmated anger, anger
blown up into a terrible flame. A consuming fire, the furnace made seven times
hotter (Isa. xxxiii. 14). (2) The wrath of God. The wrath of all the kings of the
earth and all the angels of heaven put together is as nothing compared with this.
Theirs woold but be as the breath of one's nostrils ; whereas the wrath of God is
as a whirlwind that rends the rocks, and tears up the mountains, and shakes the
foundations of the earth, and shrivels up the heavens like a scroll, and causes the
whole fabric of heaven and earth to stagger like a drunken man. Oh, who knows
the power of His wrath 1 Their wrath is but like a spark ; His wrath is like a river,
a sea of kindled brimstone. This wrath of God will be thy portion if thou believe
not. (3) It is the wrath of God on him. Not near, or coming towards, but on bim.
Not that all the wrath of God is on him already, for there are vials of wratii that
will never be emptied, never emptier, though the Lord be pouring them forth to aU
eternity. It is compared to a river which is continually running ; and when it has
run some hundred years, there is as much to come as if there were none nm by
already ; it will run on thee to eternity, unless by believing thou stop it, divert the
course of it in time. The first-fruits of wrath are reaped now, but a full harvest ia
coming ; and the longer thou continuest in unbehef, the riper thou art for that
dreadful harvest. (4) It is abiding wrath. Not on and off, but always on without
intermission. On him in every place, in every state, in every enjoyment, in every
undertaking. (Ibid.) The difficulty of faith :— Some have an idea that faith is
a business of no great difficulty. They wonder why any should make such ado
about believing : they think it an easy thing to believe, and so trouble not them-
selves mnoh about it, do not make it their business to look after it. Those who
think thus show plainly that they never did believe, that they do not so much as
know what it is to believe. 1. Faith is the gift of God. Not the work of man's
hand, or head, or heart. Something without him, not in him naturally ; something
above him, out of the reach of nature. It most be reached down by the hand of
7U THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [cha». xn.
God, or man can never come by it. Not a gift of nature, but of graee. 2. Man if
naturally onwilling to receive it (John v. 40). Coming is believing, but men
refuse to eome. 8. This opposition is so strong that it requires an exceeding
mighty power to overcome it. The power of nature cannot master it, but
only the power of Divine grace put forth in a special manner for this very
purpose. Such a power is required to raise sinners out of the grave of
unbelief, as was requisite to raise Christ from the dead (Eph. i. 19, 20). [Ibid.)
Wesley' t improvement of infant baptism : — Wesley's teacning on Uiis subject is
instructive. He recommends to us all, and enjoins upon us all, to follow the example
of Philip Henry. He had a method of improving infant baptism, superior to tiiat
of most divines, and decidedly better than I have at any time met with. He drew
out what he called a form of the Baptismal Covenant, "I take God the Father to
be my Father ; I take God the Son to be my Saviour ; I take God the Holy Ghost
to be my Comforter, Teacher, Guide, and Sanctifier ; I take the Word of God to be
the rule of my actions ; I take the people of God to be my people in all conditions :
and all this I do deliberately, freely, and for ever." He taught all his children to
say this to him every Sunday night : when they were able to write, he made every
one of them write it, and sign it. " Now," he said, ** I shall keep this as a testi-
mony against you." And he did keep it. And there is found among his papers one
of the most affecting documents in the English language — a copy of this covenant,
signed by each of his children in succession. But he never had to produce it against
them. By God's grace, they kept it ; and thus verified his own frequent adage,
< ' Fast bind, fast find." (Dr. Osbom.) Saved : — You remember that fearful ship-
wreck of the steamer Atlantic^ which took place some years ago on the coast oi
Halifax. Hundreds of lives were lost, and dreadful scenes were witnessed on that
occasion. Among the passengers on board that steamer was a merchant from
Boston, who was a Christian man. When his family heard of the wreck they were
in great distress. How anxiously they waited to hear from him 1 How eagerly
they examined the newspapers, and read over the list of the lost to see if his name
was among them 1 But God ordered it so that this gentleman was permitted to get
safe to shore. As soon as he could reach the telegraph office he sent a telegram
home to his family. There was but a single word in that telegram ; but, O, it was
worth more to his distressed family than all the world. It was the word Saved.
And when that merchant returned home, he had that telegram framed, and hung
up in his office with that important word — Saved — in it, so that he might see it
every day, and be reminded of God's great goodness in sparing his life. Yet it was
only that merchant's body that was saved then. And this is nothing compared to
the soul. But when we become the sheep of Jesus, the Good Shepherd, He
engages to save our souls in heaven for ever. {Dr. Talmage.) The tin of un-
belief:— One is sometimes asked, What is the use of preaching about infidelity in
church? So that all may be able to give an intelligent explanation of their groonda
for belief, to any who demand it of them. We cannot fail to notice that religion
is, in our day, more generally and freely discussed than it has been for some
preceding generations ; and so long as this is done in an honest, thoughtful, truth-
seeking, kindly spirit, we may be thankful and hope. I. What are the oaubeb of un-
belief? 1. A wrong bias in the heart. Ever since the Fall, it has been natural for
us to dislike religion, and to shirk its obligations if possible. Satan persuades ua
that his service is the easiest, and pays the best ; so we prefer it. 2. The power of
things seen over the natural man. The novel and the newspaper interest us more
than the Bible : we neglect the latter : and then comes the suggestion, Perhaps the
Bible is not God's book after all, <&o. 3. Selfishness. Behgion thwarts, opposes,
reproves ; so we naturally hate it. 8. Pride — desiring the praises of men rather
than the favour of God, and exalting itself against His revealed will. Does not the
pride of intellect say, " I will not believe what I cannot understand. I am maoh
too clever to take things on hearsay : give me facts and proof." And does not the
pride of society, money, health, high spirits, exalt itself against the spirit of Chris-
tianity, and refuse to believe that God is no respecter of persons. 6. Fear of the
world. Young people, especially, find it very hard in society, or in an irreligious
home, always to stand up for truth and God. Bidicule possesses a cruel and often
fatal power : if those exposed to it do not pray for strength to resist, it will over-
come them little by little : the pain which they feel, the shame which is a glory and
grace, which troubles them when they hear sacred things lightly spoken of, will
gradually cease ; their spiritual sight will lose its keenness : the ears of the sold will
become duU of hearing ; and ^ey will learn at last to mistake the false for the tms^
. m,] 8T. MARK. 727
and to enjoy that which once they despised and abhorred. 6. The false notion that
religion is impracticable. 7. Evil lives at professing Christians. Eemember, as to
this, the question is not whether men or women calling themselves Christians are
honest or hypocritical, bat whether Christianity is true. Do yon take care not to
behaye so inconsistentiy as to cause any brother to offend. II. The result of un-
belief. As the causes of unbelief are contemptible, so the process is miserable, and
the result is vile. In most cases, before a man can be an infidel, he must set him-
self against the witness of history, and his forefathers' faith ; he must regard as lies
the lessons of his childhood, and must erase from his memory the prayers learnt at
his mother's knee ; he must teach himself to regard those cravings for happiness,
for life, for beauty, and for truth, as fond and hopeless desires ; he must learn to
feel, when his father or mother, wife or child, dies, *' there is an end of everything,
we shall meet no more." And when he has surrendered himself wholly into the
power of God's enemy, what sort of a creature is the devil's masterpiece, after all ?
1. See the result in communities. Look at him, first, with full scope to do his best
and worst ; give him multitudes of companions, who think as he thinks, and place
a great city in his power. Look at infidel Paris, in our days, shooting down an
axvhbishop in her streets. What foUows? — ^fire, and sword, and famine — defeat,
and degradation, and death. Would the result be different, do you suppose, in our
land, if all were permitted to do what seems right in their own eyes — would life or
property be safe? 2. Or look at the individual man. Who would trust an infidel?
Who would make him a guardian or trustee 7 What motive has he to keep him
from betraying his trust ? Follow him to the end. His heart may grow harder, his
assertions of unbelief may be louder; but what of him when his health and strength
begin to fail ? It was easy, when spirits were high, to say that clever profanity to
applauding friends, easy to sneer at Church and Bible, to raise the ringing laughter
of his boon companions ; but what are his thoughts, now that he must spend long
dreary days and nights alone^ — alone, for his old mates are not the men to seek the
society of the aged, or to watch by the sick ; what if he should discover that he has
not, after all, become that which he tried to be, and thought that he was, an infidel?
in. The cure for unbelief. The treatment must vary with the ease. For some,
books of evidence, appetds to history, logical reasoning, close analogies. But here
are some golden rules, applicable to all. 1. Go home and do your duty. Never
mind how mean the work is : the lower your place here, the higher it may be here-
after. 2. Pray. 3. Study the Scriptures. 4. Seek Christ in the humble, teachable
spirit He has promised to bless. 6. Seek Him in His children, His poor, His sick.
(S, R. Hole, M.A.) Believing and talvation : — There is no way under heaven to
be interested in Christ, but by believing. He that believeth shall be saved, let his
sins be ever so great ; and he that believeth not shall be damned, let his sins be
ever so little. (Thoa. Brooks.) Destiny determined by belief: — There is the way
of salvation, and thou must trust Christ or perish ; and there is nothing hard in it
that thou shouldst perish if thou dost not. Here is a man out at sea ; he has got a
chart which, if well studied, will, with the help of the compass, guide him to bis
journey's end. The pole star gleams out amidst the clond-rifts, and that too will
help him. " No," says he, •* I will have nothing to do with your stars ; I do not
beheve in the North Pole ; I shall not attend to that little thing inside the box ; one
needle is as good as another needle ; I do not beheve in your rubbish, and I will
have nothing to do with it ; it is only a lot of nonsense got up by people on purpose
to make money, and I will have nothing to do with it." The man does not get to
shore anywhere ; he drifts about, but never reaches port, and he says it is a very
hard thing. I do not think so. Some of you say, " WeU, I am not going to read
your Bible ; I am not going to Hsten to your talk about Jesus Christ ; I do not beheve
in such things." You will be damned then, sir. •* That's very hard," say you.
No it is not. It is not more so than the fact that if you reject the compass and the
pole star yon will not get to your journey's end. If a man will not do the thing that
IS necessary to a certain end, I do not see how he can expect to gain that end. You
have taken poison, and the physician brings an antidote, and says, *' Take it quickly,
or you will die ; but if you take it quickly I will guarantee that the poison will be
neutralized." But you say, " No, doctor, I do not beheve it ; let everything take its
course ; let every tub stand on its own bottom ; I will have nothing to do with you,
doetor." '* WeU, sir, yon will die ; and when the coroner's inquest is held on your
body, the verdict will be, ' Served him right 1 "* So will it be with yoo if, having
heard the gospel of Jesus Christ, you say, " Oh I pooh, pooh ! I am too mueh of a
eommon-sense man to have anything to do with that, and I shall not attend to it."
TS8 TEE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [cHiiP. m.
Then, when yon perish, the verdict given by your conscience, which will sit npon
the King's quest at last, will be a verdict ot felo-de-se — he destroyed himself. (C.
H. Spurgeon.) Rejection of grace :— A man being sick and like to die, the physi-
cian, knowing his case, takes with him some preservative to comfort him, and coming
to the door falls a-knocking. Now, if he either will not or be not able to let him in,
he mnst of necessity perish, and the cause cannot properly lie at the physician's
door, who was ready and willing to relieve him ; but in himself, that is not willing
to be relieved. Thus it is that sin is a disease whereof we are all sick. We have
all sinned. Now, Christ is the great Physician of our souls; He came down
formerly from heaven on purpose to heal us, and He comes down daily to the door
of our hearts, and there He knocks. If we but open the door of our hearts, He will
come in and sup with us, as He did with Mary, and forgive all our sins ; but if we
will not let Him in, or, through long contagion of sin, be not able to let Him in, we
must of necessity die in our sins ; and the case is evident, not because He dotli not
offer grace, but because we receive it not when it is offered. (Inchinus.) Chri$V§
sayings determined the destiny of all who heard them, ana this peculiarity He
specially pointed out as enduring for ever. To have heard these sayings is to have
incurred the gravest responsibility. A man may read the Ethics of ^stotle, and
treat the reasoning with contempt without endangering his fate ; but no man can
read Christ's sayings without finding saved upon one side and damned upon the
other. Is this dogmatism on the part of Christ ? Undoubtedly. God must be dog-
matic. If God could hesitate, He would not be God. Do we stumble at the solemn
words of the text? Why should we? An agriculturist says, practically, ''Go ye
into all the world, and say to every creature that there is a particular season for
sowing seed : he that believeth shall be saved — shall have a harvest ; he that be-
lieveth not shall be lost — shall have no harvest." There is a gospel of agriculture:
why not a gospel of salvation ? Men's disbelief of God will damn them in farming;
why not in religion ? Does God speak decisively in the one case, and hesitatingly
in the other f There must be a climacteric point — a point of saving or danming —
in all the declarations of God, because He has spoken the ultimate word on aU the
subjects which He has disclosed. The truth upon any matter, high or low, is the
point of salvation or damnation. The man who merely points out the right road to
a traveller is in a position (with proper modification of the terms) to say to that
traveller, " He that believeth shall be saved ; he that believeth not shall be damned : "
in other words, " Go thus, and you will reach the object of your journey ; but go so,
and yon will never reach it." This is the position which Christ assumes, — "He
that believeth Me hath life ; he that believeth not Me hath not life." Is snch a
projection of His personality consistent with His being simply one who spoke with
the authoritative tone and earnestness of a Jew ? {J. Parker, D.D.) Difference
between penalty and consequence : — It must not be forgotten that there is a broad
distinction between a penalty and a consequence, as those terms are commonly un-
derstood. When Christ said, "He that believeth not shall be damned," He
announced a consequence. He did not threaten a penalty in the usual acceptation
of the term. A consequence is the direct and inevitable result of certain processes,
partaking of their very nature, and inseparable from them ; but a penalty may pos-
sibly be something different, something arbitrarily superadded, regardless of adap-
tation or measure. Being chilled is a consequence of exposure to cold air, but being
flogged for such exposure is a penalty. Eternal punishment is the consequence ol
rejecting the gospel, not a penalty (in the low sense of revenge) attached to a crime.
(I6id.) Saving faith : — It is not the quantity of thy faith that shall save thee. A
drop of water is as true water as the whole ocean. So a little faith is as true faiUi
as the greatest. A child eight days old is as really a man as one of sixty years ; »
spark of fire is as true fire as a great flame ; a sickly man is as truly living as a
well man. So it is not the measure of thy faith that saves thee— it is the Blood that
it grips to, that saves thee ; as the weak hand of a child, that leads the spoon to the
mouth, will feed as well as the strong arm of a man ; for it is not the hand that
feeds thee — albeit it puts the meat into thy mouth, but it is the meat carried into
the stomach that feeds thee. So if thou canst grip Christ ever so weakly. He will
not let thee perish. All that looked to the brazen serpent, ever so far off, they were
healed of the sting of the fiery serpent, vet all saw not alike clearly, for some were
near at hand, and some were far off. Those that were near at hand might see more
clearly than those that were far off ; nevertheless, those that were far off were at
soonnealed of the sting, when they looked to the serpent, as those that were near at
hand ; lor it was not their look that made them whole, bat He whom the seipent
m.] ST. MARK. 729
did represent. So if thou canst look to Christ ever so meanly. He can take away
the sting of thy conscience, if thou believest ; the weakest hands fcan take a gift, as
well as the strongest. Now Christ is this gift, and weak faith may grip Him as well
fts strong faith, and Christ is as truly thine when thou hast weak faith, as when
thou hast come to those triumphant joys through the strength of faith. {WeUh.)
A sailor's definition of faith: — A sailor who had been brought to trust in Christ for
■alvation, meeting a friend who was anxious to find rest for his soul, addressed him
thus : ** It was just so with myself once ; I did not know what faith was, or how to
obtain it ; but I know now what it is, and I beUeve I possess it. I do not know that
I can tell you what it is, or how to get it ; but I can teU you what it is not ; it is not
knocking off swearing, and drinking, and such like ; and it is not reading the Bible,
nor praying, nor being good ; it is none of these ; for even if they would answer for
the time to come, there is the old score still, — and how are you to get clear of that?
It is not anything you have done, or can do ; it is believing and trusting what Christ
has done ; then it is forsaking your sins, and looking for their pardon and the sal-
vation of your soul, because He died and shed His blood for sin ; it is that, and it
is nothing else." Where could we find a more simple, and accurate, and telling
definition of faith ? True faith :— A good man was considerably harassed as to
the nature of true faith, so resolved to ask the assistance of his minister. Going to
the minister's house, he stated that his fears had been great, that he had sinned
beyond the reach of mercy ; but that, while he was thinking on the subject, there
was suggested to his mind this text of Scripture, " The blood of Jesus Christ His
Son cleanseth us from all sin," and that resting on this truth he had lost all his
anxiety. The minister told him that this was nothing else than true faith. Un-
belief damning : — It may be asked how it can be just in God to condemn men for
ever for not believing the gospel I answer: 1. God has a right to appoint His own
terms of mercy. 2. Man has no claim on Him for heaven. 3. The sinner rejects
the terms of salvation knowingly, deliberately, and perseveringJy. 4. He has a
special disregard and contempt for the gospeL 5. His unbelief is produced by the
love of sin. 6. He shows by this that he has no love of God, and His law, and for
eternity. 7. He slights the objects dearest to God, and most like Him. 8. He must,
therefore, be miserable. He rejects God, and must go into eternity without a
Father, Ac. And he has no comfort in himself, and must die for ever. There is
no being in eternity but God that can make man happy ; and without His favour
the sinner must be wretched. {A. Barnes, D.D.) The perils of unbelief .-—This
is speaking out plainly. He who thus spoke, had a right so to speak. To be a be-
liever, as scripturaUy understood, is to give that kind of credit to Christianity,
which is associated with, and supported by, a holy life, — not the faith right, and
the hfe wrong ; but the life and faith both in the right. We proceed, now, to show
I. That Cheibtianity presents sufficient bvidencb to warrant rational be-
LiBF. The evidences which she has at her service may be presented in the form
of anawers to inquiries which may be instituted. Thus — 1. Was Christianity
necessary f Could not the world have done without it ? These questions we nega-
tive most emphatically. It could not. It had tried, Ac. 2. Was such a revelation
as that which Christianity professes to be possible ? Certainly. 3. Was it probable ?
It was. 4. Is that which was quite possible, and very probable, now a reality— a
fact ? Has there ever been such a person as Jesus Christ ? Did He do what He is
said to have done ? Our answer is in the affirmative. There are no facts that are
better attested than those which relate to the history of the Author of the Christian
religion. 6. Are any books now extant purporting to contain sketches of His life,
and an account of the rise of His religion ; and, if so, are there arguments sufficient
to evidence their genuineness, and uncorrupted preservation ? Our reply again is
a positive one. 6. Is the Divine origin of Christianity indicated by its success, and
the circumstances with which that success was associated ? It is, &c.^ 7. Is there
any evidence of the Divinity of Christ's rehgion from human consciousness and
experience ? There is. II. That th» man who does not diligently search for,
AND OOBDIALLT YIELD TO, THIS EVIDENCE IS EIOHLY OENBTTRABLE. Man is respon-
sible for his belief. This will appear from the consideration that our belief is
mainly influenced by the following circumstances : — 1. By the books which we read.
2. The company we keep. 8. The latitude we allow to our hkings, irrespective of
their nature or tendency. As the religion of Christ presents to man sufficient proofs
to warrant his credence, then, if that be refused, the results will be inconceivably
perilous. •• He that beUeveth not shall be condemned." This supposes a trial, and
a sentence. {J. Quttridge.) Salvation through believing : — ^L Gonbideb the xm.
730 THE BIBLICAL ILLVSTBATOM. [chap. xn.
poBTAKOB or THIS DECLABATioM. 1. Because of the character of the Being who ham
given it. He is God ; therefore He has power to perform what He has said. 3. None
can escape His scrutiny, as He is all wise and omnipotent. 8. The dechiration re*
mains unchangeable for ever, as He is a Being who posseseee the attribute of truth.
II. Explain thx obounds on which binnkbs are to bs saved. 1. Faith in
Christ is necessary to salvation. 2. Baptism is necessary. Ill, Thk awtui* com-
8BQUKNCB ov HOT BELiBviNa. 1. II ws do not behevo, we remain in sin. 2. Guilt
and misery of mind arise from this condition. 3. Temporal punishment in this life
is also the result. Wherever the gospel of Christ is received in the love of it, there
will be stability of principle, and an inculcation of purity of morals ; where it is
absent there will be, in a less or greater degree, an entire want of its holy effects.
Intemperance produces sickness ; extravagance leads to poverty, <&o. 4. Our not
believing will have an evil effect on society at large. 5. Eternal torment. IV. Ths
BLESSED EFVEOTS OF BELiEviNa. 1. Deliverance from condemnation. 2. Emanci-
pation from the dominion of sin. 3. Salvation from the fear of death and heU.
4. In proportion as our faith becomes strong, our spiritual wisdom will increase, as
well as our happiness. {W. Blood.) The indissoluble connection between faith and
salvation : — In order to illustrate this subject — consider — I. What is Faith f 1.
The real Christian believes the pure unadulterated gospel ; the substance of which
is, '* God is in Christ" (2 Cor. 5, 19). The ground on which he believes, is the
testimony of God (1 John v. 10). 2. The gospel which he thus believes he believes
to be most important It rouses his attention and calls all the powers of his sool
to action. like a man whose house is on fire, and is at his wit's end till he has
found means to extinguish it — or like one who has a large estate depending, and
uses eveiy effort to get his title confirmed. 8. This belief in the gospel is acoom-
panied with a cordial approbation of its gracious proposals. We have heard the
gospel. Have we believed it? Have we received it in the love of it 7 Are cor
hearts and lives influenced by it? II. The salvation pbomised to them that
BEiiiEVE. Here a scene the most delightful and transporting opens to our view. A
scene, the contemplation of which fills the Christian with admiration and wonder.
1. It is a salvation from moral evil. 2. From natural evil. 3. From penal evidences
(Bom. iii. 25 ; Gal. iii. 13). To these miseries are to be opposed the joys of heaven,
but, oh 1 what tongue can describe (Psa. xvi. 11). III. The connection between
FAITH AND SALVATION. It is neccssaiy in order to our being saved that we believe.
1. It is the Divine appointment (John iii. 16 ; Mark xvi. 16). It is not a mere arbi-
trary command, but the result of infinite wisdom and goodness. 2. There is a fitness
or suitableness in faith to the end of its appointment, so that the necessity arises
out of the nature of things. The blessing of the gospel cannot be enjoyed without
the medium of faith. Sin is atoned for — heaven opened — but the actual possession
of the good thus procured is as necessary as a title to it. How is that good to be
possessed without a suitable temper ? How is this to be aoqoired but by belieying f
(OtUUnei of Sermona.)
Ver. 17. And these signs shall toUovr.^New (onpu«« .-—New, because strange to
the natural man, because acquired not by nature, but by grace. As the world of old
was divided by the confusion of tongues, so by the renewing of our nature, and by the
oneness of our speech, shall all be united into one people, having one heart and one
soul. This new tongue must be given as the special gift of God to His children,
for the tongue can no man tame of himself. This new tongue we have if — (1) in the
midst of adversity we refrain from murmuring, and are able to submit tn^y to the
will of God, rendering Him thanks even in the midst of our sufferings ; (2) we can
make full and unreserved confession of our sins to God, without seeking to excu&i
ourselves in His sight ; (3) we restrain ourselves from the censure of others, ani
use our tongue for the edification of our brethren. {W. Denton, M^.) Du-
appearance of miraculous powers accounted for : — Probably God's sliding scale— 17
which supernatural aid increases and decreases inversely according to our strength
— may explain how, in the course of time, the supernatur^ aids of the Church ha^e
merged into the more ordinary aids of grace. (R. Glover.) Christ's presence in
t/i< Church continuul : — The co-operation of Christ was promised, not for the apos-
tolic age alone, but for all time. The miraculous gifts of the Holy Ghost wwe with-
drawn, and the third generation, at the latest, buried the last of " The Twelve; "
but other men entered into their labours, and the office has been perpetuated by an
imbroken lineage, so that those who minister in Christ's Church to-day can feel thai
the Toice which sent them forth was but the echo of that which spake on the Gall-
OBAV. ZTi.] ST, MARK. 7S1
lean hill to the first in the ministerial line. That Presence, which arrested the atten-
tion of am onbeUeving age by startling manifestations, has been vouchsafed to the
Chorch through all its chequered history in the power of an unseen but undiminished
eo-operation. In the Church at large it is borne witness to by the influence of
Christianity upon the evil spirits of oppression and cruelty, of greed and profligate
living. It has shown itself in a thousand ways in the alleviation of sicbiess and
disease, and the tenderer care for the bereft of reason ; while in a later age at
least, the Pentecostal gift of tongues has been virtually repeated, by the transla-
tion of the gospel of glad tidings into wellnigb every spoken language. {H, M.
Luckock, D,D.)
Ver. 18. They shall take up serpenta.— TA« privilege$ of heUeten :—li is to men
who believe, through their belief, that privileges such as these are to be given. The
essence and ground of the promised power is faith. That old word, Faith I That
old thing. Faith 1 How men have stumbled over its definition, and bewildered and
ensnarled themselves and those who heard them ! God forbid that I should be-
wilder you to-day. I want to be as clear and simple as I can ; and though I would
be far from disparaging any of the subtler and more elaborate descriptions of what
faith is, I am sure that we may give ourselves a definition which is true beyond all
doubt, and which is full enough to answer all the need of definition which we shall
meet to-day. Faith, then, personal faith, is this, the power by which one being's
vitality, through love and obedience, becomes the vitality of another being. Simple
enough that is, I am sure, for any man who will think. I believe in you, my friend ;
and your vitality, your character, your energy, the more I love and obey you, passes
over into me. The saint believes in his pattern saint, the soldier beheves in his
brave captain, the scholar beheves in his learned teacher. In every case the vitality
of the object of faith comes through love and obedience to the believer. Faith is not
love nor obedience, bat it works by both. A man may love me and yet not have
faith in me. A man may obey me, and yet not have faith in me. Faith is a dis-
tinct relation between soul and soul ; but it is recognizable by this result, that the
life of one soul becomes the life of another soul through obedience and love. Now
faith in Christ, what is it f Just in the same simple way, it is that power by which
the yitality of Christ, through onr love and obedience to Him, becomes our
vitality. The triumph of the believing soul is this, that he does not live by him-
self ; that into him is ever flowing, by a law which is both natural and supernatural,
a law that is supernatural only because it is the consummation and transfiguration
of the most natural of all laws — there is always flowing into him the vitaUty of the
Christ whom he loves and obeys. His whole nature beats with the inflow of that
Divine life. He lives, but Christ Uves in Him. And then add one thing more.
That this vitality of Christ, which comes into a man by faith, is not a strange and
foreign thing. Christ is the Son of Man, the perfect Man, the Divine Man. Add
this, and then we know that His vitahty filling us is the perfection of human life
filling humanity. *' They that beheve " are not men turned into something else
than men by the mixture of a new and strange Divine ingredient. They are men
in whom human life is perfect in proportion to the completeness of their faith
through the Son of Man. They are men raised to the highest power. The man in
whom Christ dwells by faith is the man in whom the Divine ideal of human life is
perfect, or is steadily becoming perfect, by the entrance into him of the perfect
life of the Man Christ Jesus, through obedience and love. {Phillips Brooks, D.D.)
The promise to believers : — These signs shall follow them that beUeve, them that
have the complete human life by me— Christ says, •* If they drink," 4c. Is that
a prize 7 Is it wages which is offered for a certain meritorious act, which is called
faith? Not so, surely 1 It is a consequence. It is a necessity. Safety and
helpfulness. These come out of the full life of Christ in the soul of man as the
inevitable fruits. Safety, so that what hurts other men shaU not hurt him. Help
fulness, BO that his brethren about him shall live by his life. These are the utter-
ances of the vitality of him who is thoroughly alive. It is by Ufe, by full, vigorous,
emphatic existence that men are safe in this world, and that they save other men
from death. Men everywhere are trying to be safe by stifling hfe ; by living just as
low as possible. Men everywhere are trying not to do one another harm, trying to
spare each other's souls by tender petting, by guarding them against any vigorous
contact with life and thought. " Not so," says the Bible. " Only by the fulness
of life does safety coma. Only by the power of contact with life are sick and help-
less souls mada whole. None but the live man saves himself or quickens the dead
78f THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. xn.
to life, Mves himself or saves his neighboor.** It is a noble assertion. The whole
Bible, from its first page to its last, is full of the assertion of the fondamental
necessity of vitality ; that the first thing which a man needs in order to live well,
is to live. (Ibid.) The safety of faith : — Let as consider the safety which Christ
offers. It is a safety not by the avoidance of deadly things, bat by the neatra-
lizing of them through a higher and stronger power. There is no saoh idle promise
as that if a man believes in Christ a wall shall be built around his soul, so that
the things out of which souls make sin cannot come to Him. The Master knew
the world too well for that. His own experience on the hUl of His temptation was
still fresh in His memory. He knew that life meant exposure, that sin must
surely beat at every one of these hearts. Nay, that the things out of which sin is
made, temptation, moral trial, must enter into every heart ; and so He said not,
" I will lead you through secluded ways where none but sweet and healthy waters
flow," but, " Where I lead yoa, there will be the streams of poison. Only if yon
have the vitality which comes by faith in Me, your life shall be stronger than the
poison's death. If you drink any deadly thing it shall not harm you " . . , , Only
those temptations which we encounter on the way of duty, in the path of con-
secration, only those has our Lord promised us that we shall conquer. He sends
as out to live and work for Him. The chances of sin which we meet while that
Divine design of life, the life and work for Him, is clear before as, shall not hart
as. When we forget that design, our arm withers, our immunity is gone. It is
only when we are about some higher task, only when they meet us as accidents in
the service of Christ, that we have a right deliberately to encounter temptation and
the chance to sin, and may claim the Lord's promise of immunity. Think in how
many places that law applies. Have I a right to read this sceptical book — this
book in which some able, witty man has gathered all his skill against my Christian
faith ? It is a book of poison. Have I a right to drink it ? Who can say ab-
solutely yes or no ? Who does not feel that it depends upon what sort of life the
reader brings to meet the poison ? If in your soul there is a passionate desire for
truth, if you do really love and serve Christ, and want to know Him better, that
yon may love and serve him more, if this book comes as a help to that part of a
study by which you shall get nearer to the heart of the truth and Him, then if you
drink that deadly thing it shall not harm you. Nay, you may rise up from the
reading with a faith more deep. Whatever change your faith may undergo, it shall
win a profounder life. But if there is no such earnestness, no such life as this, if
it is mere curiositv, mere desire to be fine and liberal, mere defiance, a mere
wantonness, then the poison has it all its own way ; there is no vigorous life to
meet it ; and its death spreads through the nature till it finds the heart. . . . And
BO it is everywhere with all exposure of the spiritual life. "What took yon there?"
"What right had you to be there?" These are the critical questions on which
everything depends. If you are passing through temptation with your eye fixed
on a pure, true Ufe beyond it, temptation being only a necessary stage upon your
way, so long as you keep that purpose, that resolution, that ideal, you shall be safe.
If you are in temptation for temptation's sake, with no purpose beyond it, you are lost.
(Ibid.) The helpfulness of /att^;— Not only is the man of faith promised safety
for himself, but that he shall be helpful to others too. These two things — safety
and helpfulness — go together, not merely in this special promise of the Saviour,
but in all life. So is the whole world bound into a whole, so does the good that
comes to any man tend to diffuse itself and touch the lives of all, that these two
things are true. First, that no man can be really safe, really secure that the world
shall not harm and poison him, unless there is going out from him a living and
life-giving influence to other men. And second, tJbat no man is really helping
other men unless there is true life in his own soul. No man can really save another
unless he saves himself. It is the good man by his good deeds that gives life to the
world. Always it is the living, not the dead, who give life. It is the man not who
has sinned deeply, but who has known by intense sympathy what sin is, how strong,
how terrible, and yet escaped it for himself, — he is the man who helps the sinners
most ; he is the anointed who carries on and carries round the Christ's salvation.
In their deepest need the wickedest men look to the purest men they know ; the
deadest to the hvest ; first to those who they think have most escaped sin, then to
those who they think have been moat cleansed of sin by repentance and forgive-
ness. . . . Here is a man in whom I know that the promise of Christ is certainly
fulfilled. He is a believer, and through his open faith the life of Christ flows into
him conatantly, and is his life. Fall of that life, he gives it everywhere he goes.
OAP. zn.] 8T. MARK, TBI
The dek in ■onl toneh hii loiil and are well again. The disooaraged find new
braTeiy; the yielding eools are dad anew with fimmess. The frivolous grow
■eriocs, the mean are stong or tempted into generosity, and sinners hate their sin
and orave a better life, wherever this man goes. (Ibid.) Tfte teeret of the
believer'$ fulpfulne$$ : — The power of these life-giving lives seems to be described
in these two words — ^testimony and transmission. I. Thb tbstimoitt which thbt
BBAB BT thb txbt vaot ow thbib owm abdmdamt letb. They show the presence,
they assert the poesibility of vitality. Very often this is what soals whose spiritaal
life is weak and low need to have done for them. Men half alive grow to doabt of
the fnller life in anybody. Men try to realize the descriptions of religion which
they hear, and, falling short of them, tbey grow ready to believe that religion is a
thing of excited Imaginations, and to give ap ail thought of making it real in them-
selves. It is not only the badness in the world, it is the dreadful incredulity of
good, it is the despair and lack of struggle which tells how low ebbs out the tide of
spiritual life. Then comes the man in whom spiritual life is a real, deep, strong,
positive thing. The first work which that man does is to bear the simple testimony
of his life that life is possible. Already, just in acknowledgement of that, the
sick faces begin to revive, and the sick eyes look up to him. The brave and
godly boy among a group of boys just learning to be proud of godlessness and
contemptuousness of piety— the man of golden principles among the sceptics of
the street — the one true penitent rejoicing in a new and certain hope out of the
ranks of flagrant sin — these instantly, the moment that they begin to hve, begin
to bear their testimony of life, and so make life about them. U. Tbansuisbiom.
The highest statement of the culture of a human nature and of the best attain-
ment that is set before it, is that, as it grows better, it grows more transparent and
more simple, more capable therefore of simply and truly transmitting the life and
will of Ood which is behind it. The thought of a man, as he improves and
strengthens, getting the control of his own powers, and becoming more and more
a source of power over other men, this thought, which has doubtless its own degree
of truth, is limited and vulgar beside the breadth and fineness of the other idea,
that as a man is trained and cultured, as the various events of life create their
changes in him, as tempests beat him and sunshine bathes him, as he wrestles with
temptation and yields to grace, as he goes on through the spring-time, the summer,
and the autumn of his hfe, the one highest purpose and result of it all is to
beat and fnse his life into transparency, so that it can transmit the life of Qod.
For all good ii from God, and He uses our lives, aU of them, to reach other men's
lives wiUi. Only the difference is this : upon a life of sin, aU hard and black, God
shines as the sun shines on the black, hard marble, and by reflection thence strikes
on the things around, leaving the centre of the marble itself always dark. But on
a life of obeiienoe and faith, God shines as the sun shines on a block of crystal,
sending its radiance through the willing and transparent mass, and warming and
lighting it all into its inmost depths. {Ibid.) Signs unneces$ary novo : — Though
the mirade- working power remained in the Church after the ascension of our Lord,
Christianity was made less dependent on such external signs and tokens, and more
and more on the moral and spiritual power of the Word itself. With this
promise compare the still more general one of Psalm xci. Such signs as are
indicated here are not needed in Uiis age, when the Divine nature of Christianity
is witnessed by such historical evidences as are afforded by the moral, the religions,
the social, the political, and even the commercial devdopment which has every-
where attended on and resnlted from its progress. I can hardly conceive that
occasion ever ean arise for the further fulfilment of this promise. Christianity is
itself A greater sign than any the apostles wrought. (Abbott.)
Ver. 19. He waa reoetred itp Into haavea.— TA« Aicension and iu ^eeU .-—The
hidden sonroe of the Christian's spiritual life is with Christ in God. To Him he
looks as his treasure — his treasure in heaven ; thither does he endeavour in heart
and mind to aseend ; he sets his affections on things above ; he seeks those things
i^eh are at the right hand of Ood, with Christ, to be dispensed by Him, according
to His piomiaa. The asoenaion was the great consummation of Christ's work.
Observe in this oonneetion — I. Thb pbbiod at which Hb abcendbd : after He has
epoken to the apostles. He did not leave them u til His prophetical work on earth
was done, and He had provided for the continu d application of the benefits He
had seowed for mankind. IL Whbhob Hb was bbcbivbd: from the Mount of
Oimib A tevoorite spot, and one hallewed by frequent eommnnion with Hia
184 THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTBATOJL [obap. xfx.
Father, snd elote to the garden where He rendered His wOl to God. The vallej d
humiliation was changed into the mount of triumph. III. Br whom He was
received : by the holy angels. What joy for them ! They nshered Him into the
Presence-ehamber of Jehovah, and there He sat down at the right hand of the
Majesty on High. IV. Thb pubpose roB which Hs ascended. 1. To prepare a
place for His people. 2. To role and order all things for the glory of God. 3. To
intercede for all who come to God by Him. 4. To send the Holy Spirit to dwell
with His people and guide them into all the truth. That Blessed Spirit is the true
remedy for aU the wants we feel, for the coldness of our hearts towards Him, for
our many departures from His will, our many shortcomings and turnings aside from
Him. (Bp. F. Barker t D.D.) Christ's Ascension :— 0 happy parting, fit for the
Saviour of mankind. O blessed Jesu, let me so far imitate Thee, as to depart hence
with a blessing in my mouth ; let my soul, when it ia stepping over the threshold
of heaven, leave behind it a legacy of peace and happiness. I. Fbou whbmck du>
He ASCBNPf From the Mount of Olives. He might have ascended from the
valley ; all the globe of earth was alike to Him ; but einoe He was to mount op-
ward. He would take so much advantage as that stair of ground would afford
Him. Since he had made hills so much nearer to heaven, He would not neglect
the benefit of His Own creation. Where we have common helps, we may
not depend upon supernatural provisions, we may not strain the Divine Provi-
dence to the supply of our negligence, or the humouring of oar presumption. O
God, teach me to bless Thee for means/when I have them ; and to trust Tboe
for means, when I have them not ; yea, to trust Thee without means, when I have
no hope of them. 11. Whxtheb did He ascend ? Whither, but home into His
heaven t From the mountain was He taken up ; and what but heaven is above the
hills r Already had He approved Himself the Lord and Commander of earth, of
sea, of hell. It only remained that, as Lord of the air, He should pass through all
the regions of that yielding element ; and, as Lord of heaven, through all the
glorious contiguations thereof. He had an everlasting right to that heaven ; %a
undoubted possession of it ever since it was; but His human nature took not
possession of it until now. O Jesu, raise Thou up my heart thither to Thee;
place my affections upon Thee above, and teach me to love heaven, because Thoo
art there. UI. How did Hs ascend r As in His crucifixion and resurrection, so
iklao in His ascension, the act was His Own, the power of it none but His. The
angels did attend Thee, they did not aid Thee : whence had they their strength,
but from Thee ? Unlike £lias. Thou needest no chariot, no carriage of angels ;
Thou art the Author of life and motion ; they move in and from Thee. As Thoo,
therefore, didst move Thyself upward, so, by the same Divine power, Thou will
raise us op to the participation of Thy glory. {Bp. Joseph H<M.) Comfort from
Christ's Ascension .-'O my soul, be Thou now, if ever, ravished with theeontem-
plation of this comfortable and blessed farewell of thy Saviour. What a sight was
this, how fall of joyful assuranee, of spiritual consolation t Methinks I see it still
with their eyes, how Thou, my glorious Saviour, didst leisurely and insensibly rise
ap from Thine OUvet, taking leave of Thine acclaiming disciples, now left below
Thee, with gradoas eyes, with heavenly benedictions. Methinks I see how they
followed Thee wiUi eager and longing eyes, with arms lifted ap, as if they had
wished them winged, to have soared up after Thee. And if Elijah gave assorance
to his servant Elisha, that, if he should have beheld him in that rapture, his
master's spirit should be doubled opon him ; what an accession of the spirit of joy
and confidence must needs be to His happy disciples, in seeing Christ thus
gradually rising up to His heaven ! 0 how unwillingly did their intentive eyes let go
so blessed an object ! How unwelcome was that oloud that interposed itself be>
twixt Him and them, and, dosing up itself, left only a glorious splendour behind
it, as the bright track of His ascension I Of old, here below, the glozy ol the Lord
appeared in the cloud ; now, afar off in the sky, the cloud intercepted thaiheayenl>
glory; if distance did not rather do it than that bright meteor. Their eyes
attended Him on His way so fa as their beams would reach ; when they eonld go
no f urUier, the cloud received Him. Lo, even yet that very screen, whereby He was
taken off from all earthly view, was no other than glorious ; how maeh rather d«
all the beholders fix their sight apon that oloud, than upon the best piece of the
firmament ! Never was the sun itself gazed upon with so much intention. With
what long looks, with what astonished acclamations, did these transported beholders
follow Thee, their ascending Saviour I As if they would have looked throogh that
cloud, and that heaven that hid Him from tham. .... Look not after Him, O j%
OKAP. XVI.] 8T. MARK. 735
weftk disciples, m to departed that ye shall see Him no more; if He he gone, yet He
is not lost ; those heavens that received Him shall restore Him ; neither can those
hlessed mansions decrease His glory. Ye have seen Him ascend upon the chariot of a
bright cloud ; and, in the clouds of heaven, ye shall see Him descend again to His last
judgment. He is gone : can it trouble you to know you have an Advocate in heaven ?
Strive not now so much to exercise your bodily eyes in looking after Him, as the eyes
of your souls in looking for Him. If it be our sorrow to part with our Saviour, yet,
to part with Him into heaven, it is comfort and felicity : if His absence could be
grievous. His return shall be happy and glorious. Even so, Lord Jesus, come
quickly : in the meantime it is not heaven that can keep Thee from me ; it is not
earth that can keep me from Thee : raise Thou up my soul to a life of faith with Thee ;
let me ever enjoy Thy conversation, whilst I expect Thy return. (Ibid.) The
enthroned Christ ;— How strangely calm and brief, this record of so stupendous an
event. Something sublime in the contrast between the magnificence and almost
inconceivable grandeur of the thing communicated, and the quiet words, so few, so
sober, so wanting in all detail, in which it is told. The stupendous fact of Christ
sitting at the right hand of God is the one that should fill 'the present for us all,
even as the Gross should fill the past, and the coming for judgment should fill the
future. I. The exalted man. In His ascension Christ was but returning to His
eternal Home ; but He took with Him — what He had not had before in heaven —
His humanity. It was the Everlasting Son of the Father, the Eternal Word, which
from the beginning was with God and was God, that came down from heaven to
earth, to declare the Father ; but it was the Incarnate Word, the man Christ Jesus,
who went back again. And He went as our Forerunner, to prepare a place for us,
that where He is we also might be. II. The bestino Savioub. Christ rests after
His cross, not because He needs repose, bat in token that His work is finished, and
that the Father has accepted it. lU. The Intebcbdimg Pbibst. There are deep
mysteries connected with the thought of Christ's intercession. It does not mean
that the Divine heart needs to be won to love and pity ; or that in any merely out-
ward and formal fashion He pleads with God, and softens and placates the Infinite
and Eternal love of the Father in the heavens. But it means that He, our Saviour
and Sacrifice, is for ever in the presence of God ; presenting His Own Blood as an
element in the Divine dealing with us ; and securing, through His own merits and
interoeBsion, the outflow of blessings upon our heads and hearts. lY. The eveb-
▲OTiVB HxLPEB. The ** right hand of God " is the omnipotent energy of God. The
Moended Christ is the ubiquitous Christ. Our Brother, the Son of Man, sits
ruling all things ; shall we not, then, be restful and content ? {A. Maclaren, D.D.)
Duign of^ Christ's Ascension : — 1. To confirm the prophecies. 2. To commence His
mediatorial work in heaven. 3. To send the Holy Ghost. 4. To prepare a place for
His people. He went up as our Representative, Forerunner, High Pnest, and Inter-
cessor, and as the King of Glory. (G. S. Bowes.) Manner of Christ's Ascension : —
The manner of Christ's ascension into heaven may be said to have been an instance
of Divine simplicity and sublimity combined, which scarcely has a parallel. While
in the act of blessing His disciples (St. Luke xxiv. 50, 51), He was parted from
them, and was carried up, and disappeared behind a cloud (Acts i. 9). There was
no pomp ; nothing could have been more simple. How can the followers of this
Lord and Master rely on pomp and ceremony to spread EUs religion, when He, its
Founder, gave no countenance to such appeals to the senses of men 7 Had some
good men been consulted about the manner of the ascension, we can imagine the
result. {N. Adams,) Ascension Day, on earth and in heaven: — I. On babth.
Think of the marvellous day when the disciples once more followed the Lord as far
as unto Bethany, now truly on His way home. All the glimpses of the forty days
had pressed it upon them that, while tmly the same Jesus, He was ^et drawing away
from them. Still loving and tender, He is hedged about vrith divmitv that makes
a king. He bends not again to wash their feet ; Mary does not touch Him, John
does not lie in His bosom. Nature is losing its hold on His hnmanity. Suddenly
He comes and goes, scarce recognized at first, then quickly hailed with rapturous
confidence. They see Him no longer bearing unweariness, hunger, or the contempt
of men. Jew and Koman are now out of the contest. Satan dares no more
assaults. He has no sighs, no tears, no nights of prayer, no agony with bloody
sweat. And now as they watch, that ohiefest force of matter on which the systems
stand, slips away from the particles of the form He wean, and He ascends in their
sight, out of their sight, until swathed in the splendour of a eloud of gloiy. U. Is
HXAVKN. Dare wt imagine the scene? Angels unnumbered, their facet solemn
im THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [obap. xfu
with a new awe at the great work of God ; the first woman beholding at last the
Seed ; the first man Adam, rejoicing to see his fearful work ondone and the raoe
left free to join itself to a new Head ; the patriarchs no longer pilgrims ; priests no
longer ministering at temple and altar ; prophets finding prophecy itself looking
backward on fulfilment ; the heroes of the Church ; the babes of Bethlehem
slaughtered about His cradle — can we imagine the scene as He passed through the
midst of these ? Did they gaze on His form, with print of thorn and naU and
spear, which mark Him for ever as the Lamb that hath been slain ? Up He passes
through the bowed ranks, among saints and elders and martyrs, the four mystical
living ones, beyond the glassy sea, amid the spirit's seven burning flames, beneath
the emerald glittering bow, to that glory whose brightness jasper and sardius oan>
not express, and on this highest height of the supreme throne of the ineffable God,
He takes His Own place. (C. M. Southgate.) The tomb and triumph: — Whenever
you think of our Lord's resurrection and ascension, remember always that the
background to His triumph is a tomb. Bemember that it is the triumph over
suffering ; a triumph of One who still bears the prints of the nails in His hands and
in His feet, and the wound of the spear in His side ; like many a poor soul who has
followed Him triumphant at last, and yet scarred and maimed in the hard battle of
life. Bemember for ever the adorable wounds of Christ. Bemember for ever that
St. John saw in tiie midst of the throne of God the likeness of a Lamb, as it had
been slain. For so alone you will learn what our Lord's resurrection and ascension
are to all who have to suffer and to toil on earth. {G. Kingsley M.A.) Christ is liv-
ing now : — What good would it do to you if you were suffering from some peculiar
accident to a limb, and some one came and told you of a surgeon who lived a hundred
years ago, and who had been wonderfully olever in resetting the same bone after that
precise kind of fracture? You might feel that he would have been able and
willing to relieve you from pain, and to prevent all subsequent deformity. But
if you were told of some living man who had shown the same skill, and if it were
explained how it was that he had acquired his special experience, and how he had
succeeded in one case after another when every other surgeon was helpless, yoa
would say, *• Now I have heard all this I will send for him at once, and put myself
in his hands." This is just what men have to be persuaded to do in relation to
Christ ... to reaUze that He is living still, and that He is not only willing bat
able to give every man who asks of Him forgiveness of all past^vil and strength to do
better in time to come. (J2. W. Dale D.I>.) Jesus at the right hand of Ood : —
John Bunyan was walking one day in a field, in great trouble of soul at the
discovery of his own vileness, and not knowing how to be justified with Gk>d,
when he heard, as he imagined, a voice saying to him, "Your righteoasness
is in heaven." He went into his house and took his Bible, thinking to find
there the very words that he thus sounded in his heart. He did not discover
the identical expression, but many a passage of Scripture proclaimed the
same truth, and showed him that Jesus, at the right hand of God, is complete
righteousness to every one that believeth. {Handbook to Scripture Doctrines.)
The ascension of Christ : — We cannot contemplate the characters of men who have
benefited the world by the splendour of tiieir talents or the lustre of their lives,
without feeUng a spirit of inquisitive solicitude to know how they finished their
course, parted with their friends, and made their exit. We labour to catch the lasft
glance of departing worth. I. The period when Chbist ascended. 1. After up-
braiding His disciples with their unbeUef and hardness of heart. 2. After assigning
to them their work. (1) The work was to *' preach the gospel," not false doctrines,
not human opinions, not Jewish ceremonies. (2) The sphere of their operation
was " all the world." (3) Their commission was to *• every creature." Hence we
infer that the gospel is suited to the circumstances of all — designed for the benefit
of all — and that the ministers of truth should aim at preaching it to all. 3. After
comforting them by the promise of a miraculous influence with which they should
be invested. II. The manneb. 1. Christ's ascension was accomplished by His
own eternal power. 2. It was publicly witnessed by His disciples. 3. It was hailed
with transport by ministering angels. St. Luke declares that " a cloud received
Him;" who can tell what amazing scenes were unfolded beyond that cloud?
IIL His SUBSEQUENT SITUATION. *• He sat ou the right hand of God." This signi-
fies— 1. The honour and dignity to which our Saviour is exalted. 2. The rule and
government with which He is invested (Eph. i. 20-22 ; John iii. 35 ; Matt. xi. 27 ;
Bom. viii. 34). 3. The tranquiUty and happiness of which He is possessed.
CoMOLunoM: From this subject we learn— L Christ finished the work which Ha
. Xfi] 8T. MARK. Tt7
«ame upon earth to Moomplish. 3. Christ haa highly honoared hnman natiire.
Z, Christ is exalted for our sake (Heb. ix. 24). This shonld give as eonfidenoe in
oar prayers, excite car emolation, and, above all, inspire our hopes. (Sketehta oj
Four Hundred Sermons.) Our Lord's Ascension : — ^I. Thb vact or thb asobnsiom.
Christ was, according to His humanity, translated by the Divine power into heaven.
As God, He transferred Himself, as man, thither : to sit, thenceforward, at the right
hand of the Majesty on high. This signifies — 1. Pre-eminence of dignity, power,
^▼our, and felicity. 2. The solid ground, the firm possession, the durable con-
tinuance, the undisturbed rest and quiet, of His condition. 8. The nature, quaUty,
and design of His preferment. He is our Ruler and Judge. 4. His glorification.
II. CoNFiBMATOBT CONSIDERATIONS. 1. Ooular testimony. The apostles witnessed
Christ's ascension. 2. Rational deduction. His arriving at the supreme pitch of
^lory, and sitting there, is deduced from the authority of His own word, and stands
on the same ground as any other point of Christian faith and doctrine. 3. Ancient
predictions. UI. Thb end and etfect or the ascension. 1. Our Lord did ascend
onto, and doth reside in, heaven, at the right hand of Divine majesty and power,
that as a King He may govern us, protecting us from all danger, relieving us in all
want, delivering us from all evil. 2. Our Saviour did ascend, and now sits at God's
right hand, that He may, in regard to us, tiiere exercise His priestly function.
8. Our Lord tells us that it was necessary He should depart hence, and enter into
this glorious state, that He might there exercise His prophetical office by imparting
to us His Holy Spirit for our instruction, direction, assistance, and comfort.
4. Our Lord also tells us that He went to heaven to prepare a place there for His
faithful servants. He has entered heaven as our Forerunner, our Harbinger, to
dispose things there for our reception and entertainment. 6. It is an effect of our
Lord's ascension and glorification, that all good Christians are with Him in a sort
translated into heaven, and advanced into a glorious state, being made kings tfhd
priests to Gk)d. 6. I might add that God did thus advance our Saviour, to declare
the special regard He bears to piety, righteousness, and obedience, by His so amply
rewarding and highly dignifying the practice thereof. IV. PsAoxiCAii consideba-
TiONS. 1. It may serve to guard us from divers errors with regard to our Lord's
human nature. Our Lord did visibly, in human shape, ascend to heaven, and
therefore He continues still a Man ; and as such He abides in heaven. He is indeed
everywhere by His Divinity present with us ; He is also in His humanity present
to oar faith, memory, affection ; He is therein also present by mysterious represen-
tation, by spiritual efficacy, by general inspection and influence on His Church ;
bat in body, as we are absent from Him, so is He likewise separated from us ; we
most depurt hence, that we may be with Him in the place whither He is gone
to prepare for us. 2. Is Christ ascended and advanced to this glorious eminency
ftt God's right hand? Then let us answerably behave ourselves towards Him,
rendering Him the honour and worship, the fear and reverence, the service and
obedience^ suitable and due to His state. 8. These points afford ground and matter
of great joy and comfort to us. Victory over enemies ; exaltation of Him who has
■tooped to become one wi^ us — our Elder Brother ; tiie possession of a Friend in
80 high place and so great power, <fec. 4. The consideration of these things serves
to cherish and strengthen all kinds of faith and hope in as. We cannot surely
distrust the accomplishment of any promises declared by Him, we cannot despair of
receiving any good from Him, who is ascended into heaven and sits at the right hand
of Divine wisdom and power, thence viewing all things done here, thence ordering
all things everywhere for the advantage of those who love Him and trust in Him.
6. These points likewise serve to excite and encourage our devotion. Having such
a Mediator in heaven, so good and sure a Friend at court, what should hinder us
from cheerfully addressing ourselves by Him on all occasions to God ? 6. It may
encourage us to all kinds of obedience, to consider what a high pitch of eternal
glory and dignity our Lord has obtained in regard to His obedience, and as a pledge
of like recompense designed to us if we tread in His footsteps. 7. The considera-
tion of these points should elevate our thoughts and affections from these inferior
things here below onto heavenly things (CoL iii. 1). To the Head of our body we
shoiUd be joined ; continually deriving sense ana motion, direction and activity,
from TTiw* ; whei« the Master of our family is, there should our minds be, con-
stantly attentiye to His pleasure, and ready to serve Him ; where the city is whose
denizens we are, and where our final rest must be, there should our thoughts be,
oarafol to observe the law and orders, that we may enjoy the immunities and
priTiloeei thereof :in that country where only we have any good ettate or valuable
47
7ae TEE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [cha». xfl.
eoncemment, there our mind shonld be, studying to secure and improve our interest
therein ; our resolution should be conformable to that of the holy Psalmist :
**I will lift up mine eyes to the hills from whence cometh my help." {Iscuu
Barrow, D.D.) ChrisVs ascension and co-operation: — I. Contemplate thbsb
APOSTLES witnessing THE ASCENSION OF THEiB LoRD. 1. The place from which He
ascended. Mount of Olives. Thither He had been accustomed to resort after the
labours and fatigues of the day ; there He had often spent a whole night in medi-
tation and prayer ; and now He Himself ascends from the same place. There His
disciples had forsaken Him and fled; and there He was now parted from them, and
a cloud received Him out of their sight. 2. The manner in which He ascended.
(1) Visibly. His disciples were eye-witnesses of His majesty, as He rose higher
and higher from the mountain, till the cloud covered Him, and concealed Him from
their sight. (2) While He was in the act of blessing. 3. The place to which He
ascended. Heaven. His own home. What rejoicings at His return 1 II. Contem-
plate THE APOSTLES GOINO FORTH TO PREACH HiS GOSPEL. 1. The SubjCCt of their
preaching. The gospel of Jesus Christ — the crucified, risen, and ascended Saviour.
2. They communicated this gospel to mankind by preaching. (1) A Divine ordinance.
(2) A speedy way of teaching. (3) A method admirably adapted for impressing
the great truth of the gospel on men's hearts. 3. The extent to which they
preached this gospel was universal, "Everywhere." "To every creature," was
the command. III. Contemplate the apostles experiencing their Lord's co-
operation WITH them in their LABOURS. Whercvor they worked as instruments.
He worked also as the efficient agent; for His power is omnipotent; and the
"signs" promised were the result. 1. These Divine influences qualified I: li e
preachers of the gospel. 2. These Divine influences confirmed the truth of the
gospel. 3. These Divine influences ensured the success of the gospel. A glorious
conquest — a triumph over mind and heart. It was great and godlike even to plan
the moral conquest of a world ; but when the plan is all accomplished, when all
the nations of the earth become one holy and happy family, then shall the world
enjoy its millennial jubilee, and Christ the Mediator shall be Lord of aU.
(J. Alexander, D.D.) An open way to heaven: — When He ascended up on high,
He opened and prepared a path, along which we may travel till we behold His face
in righteousness. It has been said, that in the early ages an attempt was once
made to build a chapel on the top of the hill from which Christ ascended into
heaven ; but that it was found impossible either to pave over the place where He
last stood, or to erect a roof across the path through which He had ascended ; —
a legendary tale, no doubt, though perhaps intended to teach the important tmtb
that the moral marks and impressions which Christ has left behind Him can never
be obliterated ; that the way to heaven through which He has passed can never be
closed by human skill or power ; and that He has set before as an open door whiob
no man shall be able to shut. {Ibid.)
Ver. 20. And preached evexywhere.— r*« puhlieation of the gospel fcy tht
apostles: — L The general publication of the gospel by the apostles. Their
industry in this work was almost incredible. What pains did they take t What
hazard did they run ! What diflficulties and discouragements did they eontend
withl And yet their success was greater than their industry, and beyond all
human expectation, as will appear from the following considerations. 1. The vast
spreading of the gospel in so short a time (Rev. xiv. 6 ; Isa. Ix. 8). In the space
of about thirty years after our Lord's death, the gospel was not only diffused
through the greatest part of the Roman Empire, but had reached as far as Parthia
and India. 2. The wonderful power and eflficacy of it upon the lives and manners
of men (Rom. xv. 18). The change of religion led to an entire change of life. So
strange an effect had the gospel upon the lives of its professors, that Tertullian
challenges the Roman Senate to instance in any one who bore the title of Christian,
who was condemned as a thief, or a murderer, or a sacriligious person, or who was
guilty of any of those gross enormities for which so many pagans were every day
punished. t3. The weakness and insignificance of the instruments employed in
this great work. 4. The mighty opposition that was raised against the gospel. At
its firet appearance it oould not be otherwise, but that it must meet with a ^reat
deal of difiiculty and opposition, from the lusts and vices of men, which it so
plainly and severely condemned, also from the prejudices of men brought up in a
contrary religion. Moreover, the powers of the world combined their foroei
against it. 6. The great discouragements to the embracing the profession of it
zn.] 5r. MARK. 789
There was nothing to invite and engage men to it bat the consideration of another
world ; for all the evils of this world threatened every one who took the profession
of Christianity upon him. Yet, in spite of every obstacle, Christianity not only
lived, bat grew and prospered. Can any one of the false religions of the world
pretend to have been propagated and established in snch a manner, merely by
their own force, and the evidence and power of trath upon the minds of men ; and
to have borne np and sustained themselves so long under such fierce assaults, as
Christianity has done ? II. Thk reason of the obeat efficacy akd success of the
apostles' pbbachino. The power of the Holy Ghost accompanied it, both inwardly
operating on the minds of men, and also convincing them by outward and visible
signs. 1. Consider the nature of the Spirit's gifts, and the use and end to which
they served. 2. Show how the gospel was confirmed by them. Conclusion : How
sad that this religic** which was so powerful at first, and has Divinity so clearly
Stamped upon it, should yet have so little effect upon most of those who call them
selves Christians 1 (Heb. ii. 1-4). {Archbishop Tillotson.) Miracles the most
proper way of proving the Divine, authority of any religion : — An account of the
means whereby the preaching of the apostles became so successful. Not from any
mighty talent of persuasion, or extraordinary faculty of reasoning with which they
were endued; not by any intrinsic evidences of truth, which the distinguishing
doctrines they preached carried with them ; nor by any other method purely human
and natural ; but by Divine power and assistance, accompanying them in every
step they took, and miraculously blessing their endeavours. Miracles are fitly
termed ** signs/' because done to signify who are appointed by God, as the
messengers of His will to men. Their suitability for this purpose will appear, if
we consider — ^I. Thk common sense and opinion of mankind. Ail religions, whether
true or false, have at their first setting out, endeavoured .to countenance themselves
by real or pretended miracles. II. The obnzbal nature of this sort of evidence.
How can a man prove his Divine mission but by a miracle, i.e., by doing something
which all confess that none but God can do. III. Some peculiar characters and
pBOPSBTixs that BELONG TO THEM. 1. They are extremely fit to awaken men's
attention. Curiosity is the first step towards conviction. When once men are
possessed with a due regard for the messenger, they will be sure to listen carefully
to the message he brings. 2. They are the shortest and most expeditious way of
proof. Other kinds of proof were fitted only leisurely to loosen the knots, which
the disputers of this world tied, in order to disturb the apostles in the execution of
their ministry ; miracles, like the hero's sword, divided these entanglings at a
stroke, and at once made their way through them. 3. They are an argument of
the most universal force and efficacy, equally reaching all capacities and under-
standings. Some have not leisure for philosophical research, and others have not
sufficient ability to pursue it ; but a miracle carries its own evidence in its face,
and is patent to all. {Bishop Atterbury.) Signs follovoing the gospel: — While
the text refers immediately to facts in the infancy of our religion, it is also
identified with permanent principles, and presents matter of momentous con-
templation to ourselves and all generations of men. I. An impobtant communica-
tion DELTVEBED. 1. Its nature. 2. Its extent. II. A conclubivz attestation, by
which this communication was confirmed. 1. Miraculous agencies. 2. Spiritual
changes in the human character. (See Acts ii 41 ; iv. 4 ; iz). III. An impebative
CLAIM, which this communication urges upon all to whom it is addressed. 1. To
be believed. 2. To be promulgated (Rom. x, 14-16). {James Parsons.) Divine
co-operation in Christianity : — I know not precisely what advances may be made by
the intellect of an unassisted savage ; but that a savage in the woods could not
compose the '* Principia " of Newton, is about as plain as that he could not create
the world. I know not the point at which bodily strength must stop ; but that a
man cannot carry Atlas or Ajides on his shoulders is a safe position. The question,
therefore, whether the principles of human nature, under the circumstances in
which it was placed at Christ's birth, will explain His religion, is one to which we
are competent, and is the great question on which the whole controversy turns.
Now we maintain that a great variety of facts belonging to this religion — such as
the character of its Founder ; its peculiar principles ; the style and character of
its records; its progress; the conduct, circumstances, and sufferings of its first
propagators; the reception of it from the first on the ground of miraculous
attestations ; the prophecies which it fulfilled and which it contains ; its influence
on society, and other circumstances connected with it ; — are utterly inexpUcable by
hmnan powan and principles, but accord with, and are fully explained by, tht
Tie THE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR. [chap. x?i.
power and perfeotioni of God. {Dr. Charming,) ChrutianxVU, a living power :—
Miraoles aad tke fnlfilments of prophecy ought no longer to be put forwao^ in thi
forefront of our plea for Christianity, bat shoold be subordinated to the exhibition
of the actual power of Christianity in the intellectoal, moral, and spiritual spheres
of our being. In the place of prophecy we have history — the history of eighteen
centuries, during which the power of Christ's light and grace has been seen in
actual operation, subduing to Him the human soul and human society, and thus
evincing its unique and supernatural character. Instead of the miracles of the
gospel we have in present reality what may fairly be called a moral and spiritual
miracle, in the transcendent influence which Christ, at this moment, is exercising
over the world. We stand face to face with an actual Christianity, which ia
unquestionably the most marvelloas spiritual phenomenon in the world's history ;
and it cannot be right for us to endeavour to learn Christ by proceeding as if we
could obliterate eighteen centuries, and forget that there is such a thing as a living
Christianity. {Bishop Alfred Barry,) The Lord working vith them: — Spread
of Christianity: — Arnobius, a heathen philosopher who became a Christian,
■peaking of the power which the Christian faith exercised over the minds of men,
says: "Who would not believe it, when he sees in how short a time it has
conquered so great knowledge? Orators, grammarians, rhetoricians, lawyers,
physicians, and phUosophers, have thrown up their opinions, which but a little
before they held, and have embraced the doctrines of the gospel 1 " The gospel
everywhere : — Close the eyes for two and a half centuries, and a Boman emperor
has torn the eagle from his standard to set there the cross, and the mistress of the
world is at the feet of Him she crucified. Wait, and look again; a thousand
years have passed — just a day with God — and the power of this Name has
■abdued tiie wildness of German forests, leaped the Channel, and raised the hewn
timber of the tree of Calvary against the wild Druids' oak. And to-day, when all
eivihzation is at its height, and the world is quivering with fresh powers and
measureless hopes, there is no other name which stands for a moment beside that
of the risen Lord. Nor has He won His rights unchallenged. No such battles
were ever fought as those which have raged about Him. His teachings. His
n»tare, His very existence, have been the strife of the ages. We ourselves have
seen the combat; and now, thanks to the criticism which doubted and the
infidelity which denied, we know with demonstration never had before, that Jesus
did live on this earth, that He spoke these words in the Gospels, and that His
character and His influence are merely inexplicable on the supposition of His mere
manhood. (C. M. Southgate.) Divine power in the Church: — ^We recall the
story of the Book of the Gospels— Cuthbert's own book — ^which the monks at
lindisf ame carried with them in their wanderings. They set sail for Ireland ; a
storm arose ; the book fell overboard, and was lost ; they were driven back to the
English coast. Disconsolate, they went in quest of the precious volume: for a
long time they searched in vain ; but at length (so says the story) a miraculous
revelation was vouchsafed to them, and, following its directions, they found the
book on the sands far above high-water mark, uninjured by the waves— nay, even
more beautiful for the disaster. Does not this story weU symbolize the power of
the eternal gospel working in the Church ? Through the carelessness of man, it
may disappear amidst the confusion of the storms ; the waves may close over it
and hide it from human sight. But lost — ^lost for ever — ^it cannot be. It must
reassert itself, and its glory will be the greater for the temporary eclipse which it
has undergone. {Bishop J. B. Lightfoot,) Vitality of Christ's religion: —
Christianity throughout eighteen centuries has shown itself possessed of the
peculiar power of recovering life when apparently almost defunct — a peculiarity
entirely absent in every mythology, which, when once dead, never can be restored^
but remains for ever in the realm of shadows ; that Christianity has a phoeniX'
nature, and after every historic death arises anew from the grave ; and that along
with the resurrection which Christianity has had in our day, has also arisen from
the grave the true conception of humanity. {Bishop Martensen.) With signs
following — The Church's evidences : — Where the spiritually blind are enlightened,
the spiritually dead quickened, the spiritually deaf and dumb made to hear
devoutly and to speak piously, the spiritually lame made to walk in the paths of
righteousness and to be active in every good work, and the spiritually leprous are
cleansed from sins, — there the Lord is confirming tbe Word with signs following ;
lor these are signs and wonders greater than physical changes, the greater deeds
fhst our Lord promised that His disciples would periorm. These signs sal) follow
CHXP. XTX.J ST. MARK. 741
the preaching of the Word ; and the age of miracles of grace if not past, nox
shall it ever pass while time lasts. (T. M, Lindsay ^ D.D,) Signs : That is,
such miracles as should be the seals and testimony of the truth. These miracles
were therefore—l. Signs to the apostles themselves, so that they might not despair
at the greatness of the work which they were commissioned to do. 2. Signs to
others, and a confirmation of the tmth which the apostles taught. Hence Christ
does not call them miracles, but signs : since the very object of the miracles which
followed their teaching was to have this moral effect, and to testify to those who
needed this proof, that the doctrine which they delivered was from God. (W.
Denton, M. A.) Signs: — Three signs which follow all effectual preaching (1)
Compunction of the hearers ; (2) conversion of sinners ; (3) confirmation of th«
*ust. Conclusion : The figure which stands oat from this book is Jesus. It is
the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God. A man must be holy to comprehend
the holiness of Jesus. Let us suppose the case of a sharp man, who has neither
taste nor genius, standing before a great picture ; he will point out flaw after flaw
in Baphael. Place one who has neither musical appreciation, nor modesty to
admit it, where he must hear Beethoven. It is an unmeaning noise, which gives
him a headache. Even so, the lower the moral and spiritual life may be, the less
is Jesus understood and loved. To an easy, soft-mannered, hard-hearted man of
the world ; to a subtle, bitter, selfish scholar, with the delicate intellectual egotism,
and the fatal gift of analysis a outrance, Gethsemane and the cross may be a
scandal or a mockery. The gospel, which seems so poor and pale when we rise
from the songs of poets and the reasonings of philosophers, is a test of our spirit
Let some ambitious students in philosophy — some who have been commmimng for
hours with the immortal masters of history, charmed with the balaneed masses
and adjusted perspectives of the composition, speak out their mind to-day upon
this Gospel of St. Mark. They will not place it very high upon their list But
turn to it to-morrow, when the end of your toil finds you disappointed men ; when
sorrow visits you ; when, as you put your hand upon the wall of your room,
memory, like a serpent, starts out and stings yon. Then yon will recognise the
infinite strength and infinite compassion of Jesus. Out of your wealmess and
misery, out of your disappointment, you will feel that here you can trust in a
nobility that is never marred, and rest that tired heart of yours upon a love that
never fails.^ ... St. Mark is the Gospel whose emblem is the lion, whose hero is
full of Divine love and Divine strength. It is the Gospel which was addressed to
the Eomans to free them from the misery of scepticism, from the grinding
dominion of iron superhuman force unguided by a loving will. Here, brief as it
is, we have, in its essential germs, all the theology of the Church. Had every
other part of the New Testament perished, Christendom might have been
developed from this. A man's faith does not consist of the many things which he
affects to believe or finds it useful to believe (as men are said to hd doing in
France), but of the few things which he really believes, and with which he stands,
fronting his own soul and eternity. This faith in the gospel of Jesus Christ the
Son of God, is sufficient. Hold it fast, and yon shall find the power of one of onr
Lord's promises which is peculiar to this Gospel. If you are called upon to
" handle the serpents," or ** to drink the deadly things " of science and philosophy,
you shall lift up the serpent as a standard of victory. The cup of poison shall
not reach your heart as it reached the heart of Socrates, when the sun was going
down behind the hiU-tops. " It shall not hurt you." Hold fast this gos^ in
that which tries many who are undisturbed by speculative doubt, in conscious sin-
fulness, in the allurements of lust. Hold it fast in the din of voices that fill a
Church distracted by party cries, and " He who has instructed His Church by the
heavenly doctrine of His Evangelist St. Mark, will grant that, being not liks
children, carried away by every blast of vain doctrine, you shall be established im
the truth of His holy gospel." {Bishop William Alexander.) Eneowragement oj
God's presence : — *' I have lately been full of perplexities about various temportd
concerns. I have met with heavy afflictions ; but in the mount the Lord is seen.
AU my hope is in God; without His power no European could possibly be
converted, and that can convert any Indian. Though the superstitions of the
Hindoos were a thousand times stronger than they are, and the example of
Europeans a thousand times worse ; though I were deserted by all, and persecuted
by all, yet my hope, fixed on the Rock, will rise superior to every obstruction, and
triumph over every trial I feel happy in this, that I am engaged in the work of
God, and the more I am engaged in it, the more I feel it a rich reward.
741 TEE BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, [ohat. in.
Indeed, I would rejoioe in having undertaken it, even though I should perish in th«
attempt. {William Carey.) God vnth Hi* iervanU : — If I go to a large faetoxy
and see a hundred straps flying in all directions, I a&k where is the motive powor
— the engine. So you are walking with the power of God, upheld by the arm of
righteoosness. If one of your merchantmen should ask me to go to Philadelphia
to conduct a business for him, and should say to me : " I expect you to carry on
this business with your own capital,** I would think it very strange. It would not
be his business, but my own. That is the mischief with all Christians. They ar«
in business for the Lord, but working with their own capital. {Henry Varley.)
Christians implements in the hands of Qod: — It is one thing to attempt to row •
f^hip ; it is another to unfurl the sails, and send her leaping, with a fresh breese,
like a thing of life, across the big opposing wavea. It is one thing for a man
to try to drag a car on a railroad ; it is another to flU the boiler of the locomotive
with water, put in fuel, kindle a strong fire, and soon fly like the wind over moun-
tains and plains, counting the long, loaded train a mere plaything. But these
analogies, drawn from our human employment of the material forces of nature,
and feeble to illustrate the difference between the man who attempts to influenoa
and convert men, and to advance spiritual and eternal things by any philosophy ol
the wisest of men, or by any motives of time, and the man whose whole and
sincere aim it is to be but an implement in the hand of the Almighty. Then hia
prayers " move the arm that moves the skies.** Then his labours are not hia own ;
but' the eternal Father, the loving Bedeemer, the H0I7 Ohott, the ftngtia, th«
inspired Word, the prayers of the saints — ftU th* inflaite powti* o< (ood in '
•tfth— work through him. (2>r. Ciiylir.)
inspi
aiM<
Date Due
•A^€-r^^^(i
j0^Slt-
fffrrr^W^
ISH^'^^^t^i
IN U. S. A.
Live Music Archive
Librivox Free Audio
Metropolitan Museum
Cleveland Museum of Art
Internet Arcade
Console Living Room
Books to Borrow
Open Library
TV News
Understanding 9/11