Christ as found in the Evangelists compared with present-day teaching

C H R I S

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.A!'; J'OIJND !N THE HVANGEIJSTS

C. COLliNCVVOOD, M.A.

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LIBRARY OF THE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY

PRINCETON, N. J.

BS 2A21.5 .C6A 1883
Collingwood, C.
Christ as found in the
Evangelists . • .

CHRIST

OCT :•

AS FOUND IN THE EVANGELISTS

COMPARED WITH

PRESENT-DAY TEACHING.

C COLLINGWOOD, M.A. (OxoN.).

LONDON:
ELLIOT STOCK, 62, PATERNOSTER ROW.

PREFACE.

Taking into consideration the phase of rehgious feeling which
prevails at the present day, the writer of the following Lectures
has great hopes that they may prove useful to many, as offering
views of great theological questions which will commend them-
selves to the rational support of many readers.

Freedom of thought and expression are the widespread
characteristic of the age ; and the Sacred Scriptures are held
with a less firm grasp than was exercised by our fathers ; while
it has become the fashion even to let go many of the views not
long since deemed essential to a sound belief. Education and
inquiry have naturally made men less ready to accept, on
authority, axioms at which their intelligence stumbles and is
offended.

Hence the great desideratum is, a rational exposition and
explanation of truths which have been for generations held as
sacred, although too often inexplicable ; truths which have in
process of time become involved and entangled, and therefore
more and more repulsive to the thoughtful inquirer ; since they
are presented as dogmas to be unquestioningly received in youth

vi Preface.

— but only to be cast oft as untenable by the mature and
inquiring man.

The writer believes these essential truths to be misstated, in
their popular form ; and to have fostered erroneous beliefs in
the minds of numberless well-meaning persons, whose hearts
and emotions they have chiefly touched ; but to have proved,
moreover, highly unsatisfactory and unpalatable to such as
cannot reconcile them with those God-given mental processes
to which they naturally appeal as to a touch-stone for the
verification of Truth. God, they may say, has not given as
Truth that which not only cannot be approved by our mental
faculties, but which is even repugnant to them. ' Prove all
things, and hold fast to that which is good,' is the motto of
the searching mind ; and to such minds the following essays
are intended to appeal.

London,

June, 1883.

CONTENTS.

LECTURE PAGE

I. THE GENEALOGIES OF OUR LORD - - - - I

II. THE GENEALOGIES OF OUR LORD {continued) - - 12

III. THE FORERUNNER - - - - - - 21

IV, 'GLORY TO GOD IN THE HIGHEST!' - - - 29

V. ' BEHOLD THE LAMB OF GOD !' - - - "38

VI, 'ye MUST BE BORN AGAIN'- - - - - 46

VII. 'AS MOSES LIFTED UP THE SERPENT IN THE WILDERNESS' 54

VIII. 'BLESSED ARE THE MEEK ' - - - - - 62

IX, THE lord's PRAYER - - - - - 71

X. 'WHEN YE FAST, BE NOT AS THE HYPOCRITES' - - 80

XI. 'THE LAW AND THE PROPHETS' - - - - 87

XII. 'ENTER IN AT THE STRAIT GATE' - - - 95

XIIL 'CONSIDER THE LILIES OF THE FIELD* - - - IO3

XIV. 'BEHOLD THE FOWLS OF THE AIR' - - - 112

XV. THE HOUSES BUILT ON THE ROCK AND ON THE SAND - 121

XVI. 'I AM THE BREAD OF LIFE' - - - '135

XVn, 'I AM THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD' - - - I43

XVIII. 'BEFORE ABRAHAM WAS, I AM ' - - - - 152

XIX. THE GOOD SAMARITAN ... - - 160

XX, THE RAISING OF LAZARUS - - - - - 170

XXI, 'WHO IS GREATEST IN THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN?' - 184

XXII. 'ON THIS ROCK WILL I BUILD MY CHURCH' - - I9J

viii Contents.

LECTUKE I'AGE

XXIII. ' EXCEPT A CORN OF WHEAT FALL INTO THE GRO UND,

AND die' - - - - - - 203

XXIV. *IN MY father's HOUSE ARE MANY MANSIONS' - - 211
XXV. A MAN CAN RECEIVE NOTHING EXCEPT FROM HEAVEN - 2 19

XXVI. THE SHEEP AND THE GOATS ... - 228

XXVII. THE TRIUMPHAL ENTRY INTO JERUSALEM - - 237

XXVIII. ' BEHOLD THE MAN !' . - . . 245

XXIX. ' NOT THIS MAN, BUT IIARABBAS ' - - - - 255

XXX. 'COME, SEE THE PLACE WHERE THE LORD LAV ' - - 262

XXXI. THE UNBELIEF OF THOMAS .... 269

XXXII. 'LO, I AM WITH YOU ALWAY ' ... - 282

XXXIII. 'WHAT THINK YE OF CHRIST?' - - - 29O

NEW STUDIES

IN

CHRISTIAN THEOLOGY.

LECTURE I.

THE GENEALOGIES OF OUR LORD.

' So all the generations from Abraham to David are fourteen generations ;
and from David until the carrying away into Babylon are fourteen genera-
tions ; and from the carrying away into Babylon unto Christ are fourteen
generations.' — Matt. i. 17. (Compare also Luke iii. from verse 23 to end.)

Many persons, although they might take up the New Testa-
ment with a sincere desire to become students of its precepts,
and to draw from its pages all the wisdom and all the strength
they were able, yet feel that the opening of the first chapter of
Matthew is at least unpromising ; and they may, not unnaturally,
experience but a very slight interest in reading what appears to
be a mere string of 7ia?nes — names, too, which are, in other
respects, to a certain extent unfamiliar. True, he will recognise
some of the Old Testament appellations, under a changed
orthography ; and there will be found, too, an interest in tracing
the descent of our Lord, as to His Humanity, from the patri-
archs of old. But even this laudable interest will perhaps
receive a check when he perceives that the genealogy which
he has so far considered is not the genealogy of Mary, the real
mother of our Lord's Humanity, but that of Joseph, who was
the father of our Lord only in the sense of his being espoused
to Mary, the virgin mother of Jesus.

2 Nciv Studies in Christian Theology.

But when, in the course of his reading, he arrives at the
third chapter of Luke's gospel, he will find other complications,
which will even still further modify the interest he has taken
in the' first genealogy by INIatthew. For here, from the 23rd
verse to the end of the chapter, he will read a still longer list
of names, purporting to set forth the descent of Jesus (once
more, be it observed, as the son of Joseph) from God Himself,
And on comparing this genealogy with that presented by
Matthew, we shall further discover what appears to be import-
ant discrepancies. In the first place, the genealogy as set
forth by Matthew purports to trace our Lord's descent down-
wards, from Abraham, through David — ' The book of the
generation of Jesus Christ, the son of David, the son of Abra-
ham.' But Luke writes in the precisely reverse order, and
traces the pedigree of our Saviour upwards, through David,
Abraham, and Adam, up to God Himself — ' And Jesus Him-
self (he says, iii, 23) began to be about thirty years of age,
being (as was supposed) the son of Joseph, which was the son
of Heli,' etc. And here again we cannot fail to notice two
things : first, that besides tracing back the genealogy of our
Lord from Abraham to God, there are also a great many more
names mentioned by Luke as occurring between Jesus and
David, than are included in Matthew's account ; and second,
that the names — forty-two in number — recorded by Luke, are
altogether different from the smaller number of twenty-eight
only, which occupy the same position in the genealogy accord-
ing to Matthew.

Now these apparent discrepancies (and real difficulties on
any of the ordinarily received methods of reading the Bible)
would not be unlikely to act as stumbhng-blocks to thoughtful
minds, desirous to find consistency and truth in the Holy
Word. But we should not bring them so prominently forward,
did we not believe that they were capable of explanation and
simplification ; and not only of explanation, but also (as we
might expect from the Word of God, which must be also the
word^of wisdom and truth) lessons of Divine instruction for

The Genealogies of Our Lord. 3

us ; which, if our minds are prepared to receive them, cannot
fail to spring up within us, and bear fruit to spiritual life.

Those who see nothing in the Sacred Scriptures but the
letter, who read the Bible as they would any ordinary book,
the thoughts of whose writer lie upon its surface, will indeed
find it difficult to discover spiritual truth, or even consistent
literal meaning, in a long string of names such as those we are
considering. But we are convinced that, besides the literal
meaning, and within it, are enshrined higher truths; and we
wish to offer to our readers what appears to us to be the key
to those truths, wherewith we may be able to unlock the casket,
and apply to our minds the treasures of a lofty and spiritual
character which it contains. With the aid of this key, then, we
shall endeavour to unravel some of the difficulties presented by
the apparently conflicting statements in the two genealogies, and
hope to be able to show that they are not simply the meaning-
less catalogues which they would at first sight appear to be.

It may properly be remarked here, that navies in the Bible,
while they are necessary for the outward binding together, as it
were, of the letter, are by no means the aimless concatenations
of syllables which the majority of readers consider them.
Taken simply and singly, they are comprehensible enough, and
essential to narratives of events in which persons must of ne-
cessity take part ; but when we find \vhole chapters made up
entirely of names, it becomes evident that there must be some-
thing more intended than a bald and unintelligible jargon of
polysyllables. The names of the so-called antediluvian patri-
archs cannot reasonably be regarded as distinctive of (real)
individuals at all, but are apparently used to express spiritual
things under personal appellations ; and are thus intended in
the form of genealogies to illustrate the birth of one principle
from another ; being therefore rather applicable to the states
and qualities of epochs and dispensations than to individual
persons. This is capable of abundant illustration.

Again, the names given from Noah to Heber (after which is
called the Hebrew nation) are not, either, names of real persons,

I — 2

4 New Studies in Christian Theology.

but are significant appellations of real nations which formed the
Church of that age. And later still, when real persons are
indeed spoken of by their names, these names were applied, on
account of their correspondent significations, to those earlier
genealogies which we have observed to be of a spiritual and
not a personal significance. And thus the whole system of
names in the Word has a wonderful connection, a systematic
and consistent agreement as to scope and meaning, whether
they are applied to spiritual abstractions or to real historical
personages ; for spiritual generations in heaven and the Church
are like the natural generations of earthly families, but they are
in reality the arrangement of goods and truths, which are corre-
spondent with, and according to, affinities and consanguinities.*

Hence we may perceive that names, as far as regards their
mere sound and orthography, are of no importance in the
Bible. The more spiritual the mind which is brought to the
perusal of the Scriptures, the more unimportant the names,
regarded as names of individuals, become. Abraham, and
Isaac, and Moses, and David need convey no personal meaning
whatever, so long as they are understood as referring to those
spiritual and celestial principles of which they are respectively
significant. For what were Abraham, or Moses, or David, but
men like ourselves? Men, it is true, who played a part on
earth which was, under Providence, turned to account from a
spiritual standpoint, to convey spiritual lessons to us, but other-
wise of no greater account in the unseen world than hosts of
other men as great and as good as they. And when we read
these and similar names in the prophetical books, for example,
apart from their acts, not person, but quality, should enter our
thoughts — not the individual, but the spiritual essence.

That the genealogy of Luke continues to trace our Lord's
descent above Abraham and through the antediluvian patri-
archs, then, is proof that no mere natural pedigree is intended ;

* Thus the Jewish nation was often called Israel after the name originally
given to Jacob (Gen. xxxii. 28) : see Deut. vi. 4 ; Luke ii. 32, and passim.
Many other names are so used by the Prophets ; compare Psa. xiv. 7, Ixxx. i;
Jer. xlix. 10; Isa. ix. i, etc.

The Genealogies of Our Lord. 5

for we maintain that these at least are of purely spiritual signi-
ficance, and were never intended to represent existent indi-
viduals, but only purely spiritual qualities and principles.

Nor is this the only reason which at once strikes the thought-
ful reader, and shows him that there is something in these
genealogies of more importance than that which at first sight
appears ; but the fact that the descent of our Lord is traced
through Joseph and not through Mary, seems at once to point
out that something different from, and higher than, His mere
natural genealogy is intended in the opening verses of Matthew j
and believing, as we do, that there exists a constant analogy
between natural and spiritual things, we may be certain that
in the description of the natural generations of Jesus Christ
spiritual generations are referred to. The natural birth is but
the type of the spiritual birth. Our Lord fully explained to
Nicodemus this analogy when He said, 'Ye must be born
again.' 'That which is born of the flesh is flesh; and that
which is born of the Spirit is spirit ' (John iii. 4, 6). And
therefore, whenever we read in the Word of births and gene-
rations, an internal or spiritual reference is made to the new or
second birth, and to the regenerate life. Our souls have to be
born as well as our bodies, and the great principles of will and
understanding develop themselves later; and not until these
have become established can the will and understanding beget
sons and daughters — that is to say, thoughts and affections. And
of these thoughts and affections, these goods and truths of the
Spirit, there are generations succeeding generations, just as
there are generations succeeding generations of the natural
man. For regeneration can only be effected by successive
degrees ; and just as a tree grows from a seed and passes
through the various and successive stages of root, shoot, stem,
branches, leaves, flowers, and lastly fruit, so regeneration, begun
and pursued through its successive stages in this world, ultimately
arrives at its perfection and fruition in that which is to come.

But it must be borne in mind that our Lord as to His
Humanity was a Man in all respects like ourselves. * For verily,

6 Nezu Studies in Christian Theology.

saith the Apostle (Hebrews ii. i6, 17), 'He took not on Him
the nature of angels; but He took on Him the seed of Abra-
ham. Wherefore, in all things it behoved Him to be made
like unto His brethren.' And 'since God did descend, and
since He is order itself, it was necessary, in order to His
actually becoming a Man, that He should be born, educated,
successively instructed in knowledge, and thus introduced by
degrees to intelligence and wisdom. With respect, therefore,
to the Humanity, He was an infant, like other infants — a child,
like other children, and so forth; with this difference alone,
that He more rapidly, more fully, and more perfectly than,
others accomplished the different stages of that progression ;
and that He thus advanced, according to order, is evident
from these words in Luke (ii. 40, 52) : " And the child (Jesus)
grew, and waxed strong in spirit, filled with wisdom ; and the
grace of God was upon Him." And again : " Jesus increased
in wisdom and stature, and in favour with God and man." '

It follows, therefore, that as a man, from his birth onwards,
must enter upon, and pass upwards through, all the stages of
the regenerated life, so must our Lord, as to His Humanity,
who 'was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without
sin ' (Heb. iv. 15), also have passed through similar stages —
doubtless more rapidly, more fully, and more perfectly than
others — yet no less certainly ; to the effect that that Humanity,
derived from His mother Mary, might be ultimately glorified,
and finally united indissolubly with his Divinity, in one perfect
Divine Humanity, ' who ever liveth to make intercession for
us.' Were it not so, Christ would have been more, or less,
than human — His Humanity would not have been according
to order ; and we should not then possess (as we know we do)
' a high priest, who can be touched with the feeling of our
infirmities.'

Every infant is born in a state of innocence, but with a strong
hereditary tendency to sin and evil. ' The Lord first infuses
into them the good of innocence, by virtue of which man is
man.' In the early period of our lives, the Lord is at work

' The Genealogies of Our Lord. 7

within us, making those spiritual preparations which are ab-
solutely necessary for the inauguration of that which we our-
selves have afterwards to do ; and without which, regeneration
would be altogether impossible. And thus, during the first
innocent years of life, the child is kept in conjunction with
heaven. We all know the good and sweet impulses of children;
we all have had experience of the affectionate disposition they
show towards those with whom they are chiefly brought into
contact. We know the innocent love they have for mother,
• father, brothers, and sisters ; how easy it is to win their little
hearts — how undisguised is their affection — how genuine their
emotions ! We delight to observe their sympathy with misery
and unhappiness in every form ; how their feelings of love and
charity are excited by the tale of sorrow, or by the sight of real
distress — how they are ever ready to relieve it — ever eager to
listen to any story in which good springs from apparent evil —
and how their vivid sympathies cause them to rejoice with
them that do rejoice, and to weep with them that weep. So
that, in fact, they are perfect mirrors of the happiness, or of
the unhappiness, of those by whom they are surrounded. All
this is because the young child is from earliest infancy to first
boyhood or girlhood, in angelic association; as our Lord says of
such (in Matt, xviii. 10), 'I say unto you, that in heaven their
angels do always behold the face of My Father, which is in
heaven ;' and thus infancy corresponds with the celestial state.
This is indeed the analogue, as it were, to the golden age — that
time of our mundane existence when everything is bright, and
fresh, and glorious, before the trail of the serpent has passed
over it — before, that is, our sinful self-nature has begun violently
to assert itself :

* Our youth, our childhood, that spring of springs !'

as the poet calls it. Yes, childhood is a glimpse of heaven !
It is like little children, that each one must become before he
can see the kingdom of heaven ; and Christ Himself has said,
' Suffer the little children to come unto Me, and forbid them

8 New Studies in Christian TJicology.

not, for of such is the kingdom of heaven.' For why? they
are in a celestial state — such as alone, of beings of earth, are
capable of being conjoined with those whose home is in the
highest heaven.

Hence, too, the stories which have been handed down to us
concerning a goldeti age of the woj-ld — an age when man was
innocent and good, when the gods walked on earth and con-
versed with men. These stories, common in ancient mytho-
logies, are evidently based upon the fact that there was a time
when mankind, in the aggregate, were like infants and young
children as to worldly matters ; that the first age of the human
race in general, like the first age of the individual human
being, was an age of innocence and happiness, bright, like
gold, with the prevailing goods of love and truth, before the
bane of sin stepped in, and in the guise of a serpent set up the
monster self to be worshipped instead of God. This was the
declension and downfall of the first or golden age of our race,
and this is the curse upon which we all stumble, when, as we
quit the innocent estate of childhood, the rational faculty begins
to assume an independent sway.*

But this innocence is not to last. It is by degrees put off,
as hereditary evils declare themselves ; man, by degrees, begins
to know and learn, slowly at first ; and although the good of
innocence is removed, the good of ignorance takes its place.
The boy or girl is still in a state of mutual charity; and,
during the time of instruction, he is receiving simple truths,
but without yet the power of reflecting upon them, and thus
of appropriating them ; so that he is not so liable to those
temptations which arise when the fulness of knowledge suc-
ceeds. In this condition the boy or girl acquires the germ of
the spiritual principle, which is love to the neighbour ; and

* It is worthy of remark that as by the doctrine of evolution it is argued
that the embryonal stages of an animal indicate the stages of its ancestral
descent ; so also the totality of the life of an individual is an epitome of
the history of the race. Thus we would submit that the innocent condition
of childhood, even viewed by this test, points to an analogous, simple, and
innocent form of society at the very commencement, now doubtless im-
measurably distant, of man's life upon earth. — See note, p. 6i.

TJie Genealogies of Our Lord. 9

thus the state of boyhood or girlhood, from the time of about
ten years old, is correspondent to the spiritual condition.

In the third period of life, however, the goods of a man's
precedent life undergo a change. He sees them in a new-
light, being now capable not only of receiving truths, but of
meditating upon them, and confirming them ; and thus good
and truth mutually react on one another. Up to this time
' he has not (yet) acqiiiredixuths ; the good things of innocence
and charity which he had received in those two states have
not yet been qualified; for truth gives quality to good, and
good gives essoice to truth ; on which account he is from this
age imbued with truths by instruction, and especially by his
own thoughts, and consequent confirmations.' In this condi-
tion his state is correspondent to something lower than spiri-
tual, and higher than natural. Now he has, instead of the
good of ignorance, the good of intelligence ; he has become
rational, and has the supreme faculty of reflecting upon good
and truth.

Thus we may perceive that the human soul in its growth in
the world from infancy to adult age descends, as it were, through
the heavenly series. It will hereafter become clear for what
wise purpose this orderly series of states has to be passed
through ; and it will have become already evident that this
earthly life is a condition of probation, in which we pass
through certain stages of innocence and ignorance, and gradu-
ally put these off as we acquire strength of mind to imbibe
truths, and, by experience and reflection, confirm them in life.
Thus is the opportunity afforded us of bringing the two great
faculties of will and understanding into accord, and thus we
gain that great and invaluable blessing of experience, and are
able to m.ake an inteUigent use of charity and love, which is
the germ of the natural principle. Hence, too, we are sub-
jected to temptations, those invaluable aids to spiritual life ;
for now begins that conflict between the inherent affections of
evil and the intelligent appreciation of good, which must result
in the victory of the one or the other, according as we seek

10 Nciu Studies in Christian Theology.

strength from above ; 'for God is faithful, who will not suffer you
to be tempted above that ye are able, but will, with the temp-
tation, also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear
it' (i Cor. X. 13).

Now, from what has already been said, it follows that our
Lord — born into the world, made flesh, made like unto His
brethren, made under the law — must in all respects have under-
gone the same conditions as those described as the natural
progress and course of the human soul. He, too, was an infant,
partaking with the human infant of the goods of innocence.
He, too, was a youth, in whom, in their turn, were the spiritual
goods of ignorance. He increased in wisdom and stature. He
— the child Jesus — grew and waxed strong in spirit. He was
introduced into states of celestial love, and afterwards into
knowledge, like other men. He had to pass through all the
degrees of preparation common to the rest of mankind, was
snbject to the necessities of acquiring knowledge, and liable
to the same temptations as His brethren ; the only difference
being that He made all these acquisitions in greater fulness
and perfection than others. He therefore, Hke us, descended
as it were through all the heavenly series, and with the same
end in view — or rather with a mighty end, foreshadowed only
by our own spiritual career.

And this it is which is meant by the summing up of the
genealogies which heads this Lecture ; this is the spiritual
lesson of ' the generation of Jesus Christ, the son of David, the
son of Abraham.' 'So all the generations from Abraham to
David are fourteen generations; and from David unto the
carrying away into Babylon are fourteen generations ; and
from the carrying away into Babylon unto Christ are fourteen
generations.'

It will be desirable here to make some remarks upon the
remains or remnants of these celestial, spiritual, and natural
states, through which we have said everyone passes in suc-
cession in his progress through life. For we have pointed out
that they are assumed in a descending order; and when the

TJic Genealogies of Our Lord. II

youth is endowed with the goods of ignorance, and is in mutual
charity, he at the same time puts off the goods of infantile
innocence ; while the second stage is in turn put off when the
adult person arrives at the goods of intelligence, and becomes
a rational confirmer of united good and truth. But although
these anterior states are put off to make room for those suc-
ceeding, they are not entirely lost; there are always some
remains left in the heart, impressed upon the memory, and
reserved there by the Lord, separated from the evils and falses
of the natural self. Without such remains, man would not be
man, nor could any regeneration take place ; for they are the
bases of a new birth, mercifully provided in order that our
fallen nature, left entirely to itself, might not altogether perish.
They are ' affections of good and truth in the internal man, by
which the Lord flows in, and operates against the lusts and
falsities of the external man ; good and truth stored up in the
mind, from which he may draw when he is led by the Lord to
repentance and reformation.' For without such remains he
would be dead — spiritually dead; regeneration would be im-
possible, for there would be no ground to work upon, no germ
to rouse into active vitality. ' Except the Lord of Hosts '
(says the prophet Isaiah, i. 9) ' had left unto us a very small
remnant, we should have been as Sodom, and we should have
been like unto Gomorrah ;' and unless such remnant of holy
principles were left in every child of our fallen race, he could
not turn to the Lord, nor receive any operating influence from
Him.

So also, at the close of every dispensation, and at the con-
summation of every Church, a remnant or remainder is left to
form the nucleus of a new Church ; just as the family of Noah
were saved in the ark at the close of the first great dispensation,
when the floods of evil and falsity overwhelmed all the rest of
the world.

LECTURE 11.

THE GENEALOGIES OF OUR LORD (contijiued).
Matt. i. Luke iii.
We have thus endeavoured to point out certain principles
relating to the progress of the human mind through the stages
of innocence, ignorance, and subsequent intelligence, which
accord with the growing development and activity of the body ;
and we have shown that, as there are natural generations of
father and son, continually repeated, so also are there spiritual
generations of goodsand truths, of celestial andspiritual qualities,
arising from the marriage-union of goodness and truth, to which
the human marriage-bond corresponds. This was necessary to
the full elucidation and proper comprehension of our subject ;
for not otherwise can we discern the true spiritual lessons
which may be derived even from these unpromising catalogues
of names, which are to the common reader, without Divine
instruction, comparable indeed to the vision of bones seen by
Ezekiel the prophet in the valley — * and behold they were very
dry.'

We may now perceive that the three series of generations of
our Lord, from Abraham, are representative of his descent
through the three heavenly series, and of the remains or rem-
nants which He, in common with the human nature which He
assumed, successively inherited. The first group corresponds
to the celestial remains, from Abraham to David ; the second
group to the spiritual remains, from David to the carrying away
into Babylon ; and the third group to the natural remains from
the carrying away into Babylon, downwards. It is said that
each of these groups consisted of 14 generations; but here we

The Ge7iealogies of Oitr Lord. 13

see that the spiritual lesson is made of more importance than
the letter, and the letter is adapted to the spiritual meaning ;
for although the generations from Abraham to David are in
agreement with those mentioned elsewhere, there are in the
genealogy of Luke considerably more names enumerated be-
tween David and Jesus. Indeed, while in Matthew there are
two series of 14, in Luke there are three times 14, making
altogether 42 generations, instead of 28. Moreover, while in
the second group (from David, in the 6th verse, to Jechonias,
in the nth verse) there are 14 generations, there are not 14 in
the third group (from Jechonias to Jesus), unless Jechonias be
twice included. Hence the time of carrying away to Babylon
ends with Jechonias (in the nth verse), and the time after they
were brought to Babylon begins again with Jechonias (in the
1 2th verse); and thus the third group of 14 is completed.

But we thus have conveyed an important spiritual truth j
for while the division into three groups has reference to the
three series of remains, already explained as resulting from
conjunction with the celestial, spiritual, and ultimate heavens ;
so the number 14, applied to each series, signifies the extreme
holiness of the remains thus indicated. For the number 7
(and indeed all numbers compounded of sevens) indicates in an
especial manner what is full and complete, and, above all, what
is holy ; twice 7 having the same meaning in an even higher
sense.

Another important truth is figured by the fact that while the
second and third groups of names in the genealogy of Matthew
differ entirely, both in numbers and character, from the gene-
alogy of Luke, the first group agrees precisely with it, and also
with the Old Testament account. It has been well shown by a
revered friend of the writer's, now gone to his rest, and to whom
he owes very much of what appears in these Lectures, that
this no doubt points to a corresponding fact in regard to the
regenerate. Only in celestial things, and in the celestial man,
is there an exact correspondence between the essential and the
formal, or between the internal and the external. This was

14 Nezv Studies in Christian Theology.

true, even of the Lord Himself, before He was fully glorified ;
and especially during that period, and in that state to which
the genealogy of Matthew relates. He acquired not only real,
but also apparent truths ; these, however, as such, could not
be appropriated as remains, and were therefore passed by, just
as some persons were omitted in the genealogy. What was
holy was extracted from the entire series, as the three times 14
were taken out of the whole of the Lord's progenitors. The
genuine truths were, however, preserved, and were brought
forth in the process of glorification, just as the persons omitted
by Matthew reappear in the genealogy of Luke.

There are yet two points in the genealogy given by Matthew
which are of extreme interest, since they give rise to conside-
rations which prove that the underlying spiritual truths are of
paramount importance, and far exceed any that can arise out
of the acceptation of the letter. The first of these is the fact,
already noted, that these genealogies are, after all, not carried
to or from our Lord Himself by the line of His earthly mother,
but through Joseph, who was not his father, but only espoused
to Mary. But we must bear in mind that the woman is cor-
respondent to the will and affection, the outcome of which is
good, while the man represents the intellect and understand-
ing, whence proceeds truth ; and these generations (which re-
present degrees in series, and are spiritual generations) spring
from the truths of the understanding. These alone have that
multiplicity which is represented by the distinctions of spiritual
degrees. 'Good in itself is one and the same; truths are
many and various. Discriminations and distinctions, degrees
and series, thus individualities and generations ; in one word,
all multiplications are effected by truth. Joseph represented
the intellectual principle of the Church, and therefore, though
not actually the father of Jesus, our Lord's genealogy is traced
through his line, to express spiritually what was true of the
principle he represented.'

The other remarkable circumstance is the expression used
throughout the genealogy of Matthew that Abraham begat

The Genealogies of Our Lord. 15

Isaac, and so on throughout — an expression not without mean-
ing, for the remains of which these generations are represen-
tative are indeed implanted in the mind, but do not give rise
to the birth of the spiritual life until regeneration is effected;
when the seed so implanted is for the first time brought forth
into actual life, and made to bear the fruits of repentance unto
life by means of the new birth.

We may thus learn that in the genealogy recorded by
Matthew there are very interesting and important spiritual
lessons, applying primarily to the mysterious progress of the
soul of our Lord in the flesh, through the successive stages by
which He was introduced into states of celestial love, spiritual
wisdom, and natural knowledge ; and secondarily to our own
progress through similar states, whereby we have been pro-
vided with a store of good and truth, which may serve as a
bond between the fallen soul and God Himself. In our Lord
these remains, however, were His acquisitions of celestial good,
procured by combats and victories, and by which He con-
tinually united the human with the divine. They are not to be
compared with the remains in man ; for they were His own,
and divine — divine goods and divine truths acquired to Him-
self by His own power ; whereas these remains in man are
merciful gifts from the Lord to aid conjunction with Him, and
without which man would inevitably perish.

Let us now further illustrate this subject by some reference
to the genealogy given by Luke in the third chapter of that
gospel. Here we are at once struck by two facts : first, that it
is given in the reverse order of descent ; and secondly, that it
traces our Lord's descent directly up to God. Besides this,
we have already remarked the fact of there being many
more names, and these different from the names given by
Matthew. All these difficulties, however, so far from being
insurmountable difiiculties, as they might be upon the literal
plan, in reality only confirm the spiritual meaning of those
genealogies, as we will now proceed to show.

We have seen that man, from the innocence of infancy, has

1 6 New Studies in Christian Theology.

descended through the heavens until he has arrived at the
goods of intelligence, whereby he may be in a condition to
meditate upon and confirm the truths of which he is a recipient,
so as to conjoin them with good, and thus to perform uses,
which may be brought forth into life. Whenever the remains
we have spoken of, implanted at an earlier age in the soul
(and which may be regarded as the good seed) are so disposed,
by a man's turning towards God and seeking Divine assistance,
they become vivified by the Divine heat and light, and that
work is commenced which is the most important of all works,
viz. Regeneration. When reformation has succeeded repent-
ance, and regeneration in its turn has taken up the work begun
by reformation, then the soul begins by laborious steps to climb
upwards, and to return back again through the same stages by
which it had first descended. The descent, by which the soul
was instructed and stored with holy remains, was the work ot
the Lord ; the ascent must be a man's own work, voluntarily
performed, but at the same time solely by the co-operation of
the Lord, who willingly gives His assistance to those who ask
it. At our birth the natural mind is, in us, born to hereditary
evil, and although it was stored by the Divine mercy with
remains of celestial good and spiritual truth, it could not by
nature be other, or higher in its degree, than the natural mind.
Hence the descent begins, in Matthew, from Abraham ; for
Abraham, representing the third dispensation of the Church,
was also representative of the natural degree of the mind;
Noah corresponding to the spiritual and Adam to the celestial
degrees. It is true that this one dispensation, from Abraham
to Christy has been itself divided into three periods, because,
according to the laws of Divine order, although there are three
degrees — the celestial, the spiritual, and the natural — yet all
these successive degrees exist simultaneously in the lowest
degree ; that is, that these three degrees exist in every man's
natural mind from his birth.

But in the reconstructive process, which takes place at re-
generation, there is this difference : that the natural mind in

TJie Genealogies of Our Lord. ly

which we are born (but which possesses in it, as it were, the
germs of the three degrees of natural, spiritual, and celestial)
in this natural mind, the higher degrees are successively opened
and developed as we ascend and progress in the regenerate
state ; so that what was natural rises to what is spiritual, and
what has become spiritual ascends to what is celestial ; and
thus we become perfect, even as our Father which is in heaven
is perfect ; that perfection being more or less complete, as our
ultimate conjunction with God, the origin and beginning and
end of all, is complete.

This genealogy of Luke, therefore, in respect to our Lord,
is of peculiar significance. He took upon Him our nature and
became flesh ; He descended, as we have seen, as man does,
through the heavens, according to order ; but now we see that
He who was human perfected His humanity and became
divine. ' Now He that ascended,' says the Apostle, ' what is it
but that He also descended first into the lower parts of the
earth. He that descended is the same also that ascended up
far above all heavens, that He might fill all things ' (Eph.
iv. 9, lo). 'What and if,' our Lord exclaims to his murmur-
ing disciples, ' ye shall see the Son of Man ascend up where
He was before ?' ' Ought not Christ,' asks our risen Lord,
'to have suffered these things, and to enter into His glory?'
(Luke xxiv. 26). Yes ; Christ by His sufferings and tempta-
tions, His conflicts and His victories, ascended up, emphati-
cally where he was before ; his human nature, purified and
refined, rose higher, and became more and more transcendently
perfect. He rose not only from the natural, through the spiri-
tual and the celestial degrees, but He, and He alone of men,
attained to what was Divine. From being a son of Adam, He
finally became in its highest, its fullest, and its most internal
sense, the Son of God : ' Go to My brethren, and say unto
them, I ascend unto My Father, and your Father — and to My
God, and your God' (John xx. 17).

There is yet another point, no less interesting than instruc-
tive, to be referred to in considering the genealogy of Luke.

2

1 8 New SUidies in Christian Theology.

It cannot fail to be remarked that the names enumerated be-
tween those of Jesus Himself and David are not only more
numerous than, but also entirely different from the correspond-
ing group, recorded by Matthew. The literal discrepancy is
here so marked that we cannot avoid perceiving that it has
been the result of a definite and deliberate purpose — a pur-
pose whose object has been to exalt the spiritual sense, and
afford a valuable and instructive spiritual lesson. In Matthew
ii. 12 we read that the wise men who had been led by a star
in the east to the child Jesus, ' being warned of God in a
dream that they should not return to Herod, they departed
into their own country another way.' The way here means
truth. 'I am the way, the truth, and the life,' says Clirist to
us ; and the Psalmist beautifully brings out the same idea in
the 5th and 6th verses of the xxvth Psalm : ' Show me Thy
ivays, O Lord; teach me T\\y paths. Lead me in Thy truth,
and teach me.' There is, however, a truth which leads us to
good, and a truth to which good leads us ; the first is more
simple than the last ; the one preceding charity, the other fol-
lowing and arising out of it. By the first way the wise men
were led to the feet of Jesus, who is Truth itself; but having
arrived there, and having thus acquired the good of truth, they
would next advance to the truth of good, learnt by instruction
and intelligence, and confirmed by temptation and conflict.
The perception of truth is approached by a downward pro-
gression— the reception of good is attained by an upward
advance — not precisely the reverse of the first, nor tending
to the same point; the first progress being the outcome or
birth of divinely-implanted first principles — the second, by the
rational confirmation of them in the mind, and their active
participation in life. Thus we return to our own country an-
other way, and this is what is signified by the variation of the
series of the ascending genealogy of Luke, from the descend-
ing generations enumerated by Matthew. And this difference
was even more conspicuous in the case of our Lord's earthly
career, although it applies both to our regenerate progress and
His glorified state ; for his glorification was in an infinite

The Genealogies of Our Lord. 19

degree greater and higher than our regeneration ; and the
steps by which it was effected were of a correspondingly grander
character; though, as we have already seen, there is a parallel-
ism and correspondence between His career and that of man ;
what was infinite and transcendent in Him being but finite and
dependent in us.

This perfection and transcendency is additionally illustrated
when we penetrate further into the spiritual signification of the
generations in Luke. We have already pointed out that the
three groups of fourteen which have been so often mentioned,
signified perfection and holiness.

The numbers of the generations mentioned by Luke, however
(although not referred to as numbers) are singularly significant.
From Jesus to David are forty-two generations — a number
signifying the full duration of temptations from beginning to
end. From David to Abraham there are fourteen generations
(on the meaning of which we have already dwelt), and from
Abraham up to God are twenty-one generations, the number
twenty-one denoting a holy state, and specifically the end or
completion of this holy state. All these numbers added to-
gether amount to seventy-seven, a number which represents
what is holy and inviolable in the highest degree ; and this
ascending series doubtless is intended to prefigure our Lord's
ascending states to glorification, which He illustrated by His
baptism. His transfiguration, and His resurrection and ascension ;
and in a secondary sense, the progress of the regenerate man
from the natural, through the spiritual, to the celestial degrees.

With regard to the difference which appears in the lists given
by Matthew and those of Luke between Joseph and David,
seeing how all-important is the spiritual sense, we might be
inclined to think it unimportant to understand its literal mean-
ing. An explanation however may be given. We read in the
1 2th of Mark, i8th and 19th verses, 'Then came unto him the
Sadducees, which say there is no resurrection ; and they asked
him, saying, Master, Moses wrote unto us. If a man's brother
die, and leave his wife behind him and leave no children, that
his brother should take his wife and raise up seed unto his

2 — 2

20 New Studies in Christian Theology.

brother.' Now if we suppose that the parents of Joseph were
examples of the working of this Mosaic law, the actual father
of Joseph may have been the second husband of his mother,
whereas the Jirst husband would have been the legal father.
If, therefore the line is traced in the one instance through the
actual father, and in the other instance through the legal father,
they would be, in the two instances, entirely different ; and
hence the conflicting genealogies of Matthew and Luke may
be explained. Our Lord also had a legal father, who was
Joseph^ while His actual father was God, though His descent
is traced in the former line.

Space will not permit us to dwell further upon these subjects,
which have been treated but briefly in order to compress them
within the limits of a Lecture ; but enough has been said to
exhibit the deep interest of the internal sense of the Scriptures,
and its wondrous and many-sided application to our state.
Herein we find guidance and support in all our difficulties, and
wisdom and knowledge sufficient to direct us through every
step of the regenerate life. ' If ye know these things, happy
are ye if ye do them ' (John xiii. 17). Let us then be thankful
that we have the blessing of a spiritual insight into the Word,
and can there read within the letter, the spirit which animates
it. ' For the letter killeth, but the spirit giveth life ' (2 Cor.
iii. 6). ' The words that I speak unto you, they are spirit and
they are life ' (John vi. 63).

By such examinations, guided by the Holy Spirit, we may
under Divine blessing, become well assured of the certainty,
wisdom, and the truth of those words addressed by the Apostle
Paul to Timothy (2 Tim. iii. 14-17), 'But continue thou in the
things which thou hast learned, and hast been assured of,
knowing of whom thou hast learned them. And that, from a
child, thou hast known the Holy Scriptures, which are able to
make thee wise unto salvation.'

' All Scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable
for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in
righteousness ; and that the man of God may be perfect,
throughly furnished unto all good works' (2 Tim. iii. 16).

LECTURE III.

THE FORERUNNER.

' As it is written in the Prophets, Behold I send IMy messenger before
thy face, which shall prepare thy way before thee ; The voice of one crying
in the wilderness, Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make His paths straight.'
— Mark i. 2, 3.

We have but to turn back a few pages of the Bible to find
the prophet from whom this prediction is taken. It was Malachi,
the last connecting link between the Old Covenant and the
New, who was called upon to denounce the fearful condition
of Israel as to faith and goodness, in those days when these
were at their lowest ebb, and absolutely more deficient than
they had been in any age since the creation of mankind. For
now had arrived that critical condition of the human race
when all the providence of God seemed to be of none effect ;
when all the various modes in which He had attempted to effect
the salvation of mankind had apparently miscarried ; and when
there did not appear (humanly speaking) to be any further
hope of man's restoration to his original position as a recipient
and a reciprocator of the love and wisdom of his Creator.

The prophet has nothing good to say to Israel. He comes
not with commendation on his lips ; no ' well done, good and
faithful servant !' is heard or expected by the people who have
for generation after generation become more and more ir-
religious, more and more ungrateful, more and more unspiritual,
more and more profane. But he upbraids them in the name
of the Lord ; he sets before them their gross iniquities in plain
and severe language ; he reproves them in burning words ; he

22 New Studies in Christian Theology.

denounces their accumulated sins ; and he threatens impending
and fearful judgment.

If, indeed, the people of Israel had been the servants of a
harsh and unyielding master, the subjects of a domineering and
implacable king, sore indeed would have been their plight in
this terrible time, when it might be supposed that all patience
had been exhausted, all mercy forfeited, and nought remained
but the exercise of that signal vengeance which power and
will alike might 'be expected to combine to drive home upon
an utterly depraved and contemptible people. Where was the
champion who should defend them in this strait ? Where was
the Gideon, the Samson, the David, who should beard the
enraged, the slighted, the insulted Lord to whom they owed
so much ; the Destroyer of the Amorites, the Overthrower of
the hosts of Pharaoh, the Vanquisher of the powers of the
Philistines and the Assyrians ?

No, they were left to themselves ; they had broken their
faith ; they had abused their promises ; they had forfeited the
protection of Him who had said to their great forefather, ' Fear
not, Abraham, for I am thy shield and thy exceeding great
reward' (Gen. xv. i); and why should they not, without further
respite, be swept in vengeance from off the face of the earth ?

And yet they had a champion more powerful than Gideon,
than Samson, or than David ; a champion more sure and more
faithful as well as more mighty than these. For this offended
God, who, by His prophet Malachi, denounces His recreant
people, prefaces His denunciation with this all-consoling
sentence, ' I have loved you, saith the Lord ' (i. 2) ; and not
only I have loved you, by which it might be implied that He
loved them no longer, but further on in the prophecy, in the
midst of His stern reproofs, he says (iii. 6) : ' For I am the
Lord, I change not, therefore ye sons of Jacob are not con-
sumed.' And it was indeed in fulfilment of His declaration
that He loved them, that He was now making use of His
prophet Malachi as the agent of His reproofs, and stern, but
necessary, rebukes, to the end that He might inaugurate a great

The Forerunner. 23

event — the greatest event in human history — by which He
should for ever vindicate His own goodness and truth, and
His claim to be the unchangeable lover of His faithless and
backsliding people.

For the prophecy of jNIalachi has two distinct aims ; first, a
denunciation of wickedness and profanity, a final and crushing
woe, by which the Divine protest against evil and falsity should
make itself unmistakably heard ; by which the never-ceasing and
accumulated ill-doing of the children of Israel should through
all coming time, be held up to their posterity as a shame and
a reproach, which had merited at the hands of a just God the
punishment of extinction. But also, secondly, a gracious
promise of God's continued love and protection ; a yearning
pledge that, undaunted by the ill-success of all His long-
suffering and goodness to them for ages past, He would not
even now wholly give them up to destruction ; and not only
so, but that He would invent new schemes of redemption even
more gracious than the past ; new plans of salvation passing
man's knowledge and understanding, and exhibiting far greater
love than anything which had gone before ; new messages of
mercy, in which He implied that while previous ones had
apparently failed of their effect, these should be so framed by
Divine love and Divine wisdom that they could not go astray,
but must accomplish that for which He sent them.

' The Lord whom ye seek shall suddenly come to His temple,
even the messenger of the covenant whom ye delight in : Behold
he shall come, saith the Lord of Hosts !' (Mai. iii. i.) Here
was the promise. Well the Jews knew what it implied ! Mes-
siah had long been expected. That ' the seed of the woman
should bruise the head of the serpent,' was a promise which
the Rabbis held sacred, and in their deepest heart. That
Shiloh should come, according to the prophetic utterances of
the dying Jacob, was the faith of Israel ; and when the time
came that prophets were few and far between, when the inter-
course between Jehovah and His people became more and
more constrained and more and more uncertain, then did the

24 New Studies in Christian Theology.

devouter Jews look with greater longing for that Messiah who
should tell them all things. And here He was promised in
much the same language as, three hundred years before, the
prophet Isaiah had foretold Him ; in almost the same words
as Haggai also had used about half that time previously. The
Desire of all Nations was at hand ; and the glory of the latter
house should be greater than of the former ; and in this place
will I give peace, saith the Lord of Hosts (Hag. ii. 6, 8). It
was impossible to mistake the reiterated predictions of the
prophets. The Sun of Righteousness was to arise with healing
on His wings. The great and terrible day of the Lord was at
hand. The mercy of the Lord would soon receive its seal in
the accomplishment of His promises, and the long-suffering
and love of Jehovah would soon be vindicated by the ap-
pearance of the INIessenger of the Covenant in the Temple of
the Lord.

But this was not all. To the Jews the appearance of a
Deliverer seemed a thing which they could easily endure ; they
surely could receive a Saviour with equanimity, or at least with
fearlessness, as One who came to save; not to reckon with them
for their past offences, but to wupe clean the record, and to save
them from present punishment and future wrong. What could
be more simple than that a great champion, such as in the early
days of Jewish theocracy was more than once raised up in the
hour of their need, should again appear in their forefront, to
chastise the barbarians who had carried them captive, to rebuild
the desecrated temple, to restore Jerusalem, the city of God and
of peace, to its olden splendour, and to raise the people of
Israel to more than the renown and glory of the days of David
and Solomon ?

How little they recked of Who it was who should come, of
what was the nature and character of the messenger of the
Covenant ; how" little they comprehended the mission of Him
who, when He came, announced with grand simplicity, ' My
kingdom is not of this world !' How utterly they mistook the
promises of God ; and how profoundly must they have been

The Foreninner. 25

puzzled by the fearful character of that advent, of which it was
said immediately after the promise, ' But who may abide the
day of His coming !' Here, indeed, was a grand mystery ! For
what saith the prophet ? ' But who may abide the day of His
coming, and who shall stand when He appeareth ? For He is
like a refiner's fire : and He shall purify the sons of Levi, and
purge them as gold and silver.' And again : ' For behold the
day cometh that shall burn as an oven ; and all the proud, yea,
and all that do wickedly, shall be as stubble : and the day that
cometh shall burn them up, saith the Lord of Hosts, that it
shall leave them neither root nor branch ' (Mai. iv. i).

Yes, this would be the dread appearance of One who, though
He made Himself of no reputation, and took upon Him the
form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men, and
became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross, yet
being in the form of God, thought it no robbery to be equal
with God (2 Phi], vi. 7). For in that humble guise, without
form or comeliness. He came ; and when they saw Him, there
was no beauty in Him that they should desire Him ; for they
saw not the spiritual perfection, the beauty of holiness. They
knew not, nor could they be persuaded, that in that lowly car-
penter's son could be the Refiner of Israel, who was to purify
the sons of Levi. He came unto His own, and His own re-
ceived Him not. Only a chosen few, in whom were remains
of goodness and truth, of grace and faith, were capable of being
stirred up by the preaching of repentance. As He said of His
second coming, so could it be asked of His first, ' When the
Son of man cometh, shall He find faith upon the earth ?'

But this grand difficulty, insuperable to a finite understand-
ing, was compassed in the Providence of God, who would not
leave His people in doubt. Of faith there might be little, but
there was sufficient for His purposes ; the smoking flax He had
not quenched, and He could fan it into a fire which might
warm the cold heart of man, and lighten his dull understand-
ing ; so that hereafter, in the fulness of time, it should leaven
the world, and become the fit tabernacle of His Church on

26 New Studies in Christian Theology.

earth. But the Refiner must not come unannounced ; the day
that should burn as an oven must be so ushered in that those
who feared the name of God should be able to recognize the
Sun of Righteousness when He arose. Else would all be burnt
up like stubble ; else could none abide the day of His coming ;
else would all Israel be consumed ; else would the coming of
the incarnate God only smite the earth with an irremediable
airse.

Therefore, in prospect of that great and terrible day of the
Lord, did He promise that He would send Elijah the prophet.
Not Elijah in person ; the aged prophet was dead ; he had run
his course, he had fought his fight ; and none ever returned to
earth who had once quitted it ; but as the angel of the Lord
spake to Zacharias at the altar concerning his future son, ' He
shall go before him in the spirit and power of Elias ' (using the
very words of Malachi), ' to turn the hearts of the fathers to the
children, and the disobedient by the wisdom of the just, to
make ready a people prepared for the Lord ' (Luke i. 17).

' Behold, I will send My messenger, and he shall prepare the
way before Me,' said the Lord, by the prophet Malachi (iii. i) ;
and our Saviour, addressing His disciples in INIatthew (xi.
1 1-14), says, ' Verily I say unto you, Among them that are born
of women there hath not risen a greater than John the Baptist
. . . And if ye will receive it, this is Elias which was for to
come.' 'Why say the Scribes ' (asked the disciples, unlearned
in the Prophets, with whose writings the Scribes were supposed
to be professionally acquainted), ' why say the Scribes that Elias
must first come ? And He answered and told them, Elias
verily cometh first and restoreth all things. . . . But I say unto
you, that Elias is indeed come, and they have done unto him
what they listed ' (Mark ix. 11).

The mission of him, therefore, who was to come in the spirit
and power of EHas, was to be the messenger of the Lord, the
forerunner of the new covenant, the restorer of all things. He
was to preach repentance as the first step towards awakening
the dormant hearts of mankind, that they might be capable of

The Forerunner. 27

receiving Him who was shortly to come as a Refiner and
Purifier, who was the Lord our Righteousness, HoHness unto
the Lord. No bond could be established between God and
His creatures unless there was some holiness, some righteous-
ness in man, to unite him with the holy and righteous God ;
and 'John the Baptist came preaching in the wilderness,
saying, Repent ye, for the kingdom of Heaven is at hand.
Then went out to him Jerusalem and all Judcea, and all the
region round about Jordan, and were baptized of him in Jordan,
confessing their sins ' (Matt. iii. 6). We need not ask if all
were sincere. It is sufificient that some were ; and those who
truly confessed their sins, and repented and were baptized, such
formed the remnant of whom the prophet Joel spake (ii. 32) :
' And it shall come to pass, that whosoever shall call on the
name of the Lord shall be delivered ; for in Mount Zion and
in Jerusalem shall be deliverance, as the Lord hath said, and in
the remnant whom the Lord shall call.'

But the quotation of St. Mark is from the Prophets ; and
another prophet (Isaiah) adds his testimony to that of Malachi.
In the 40th chapter we read it : ' The voice of him that crieth
in the wilderness. Prepare ye the way of the Lord; make
straight in the desert a highway for our God.' Prepare ye the
way of the Lord ! This might be deemed sufficient by those
who do not enter into the spirit of the Divine writing ; it might
be thought superfluous to make straight his path in the desert.
But herein is that duality of expression which is a characteristic
of the Word of God. Herein is that seal which stamps the
genuineness of Scripture. Repent, and believe; this is the
warning, this the adjuration. Repent, and confess your sins
unto newness of life. Cease to do evil, and learn to do well ;
let your heart be touched with the consciousness of sin and the
necessity of new birth ; let the stubborn will be bent from
following in the way of evil, and then is the way of God pre-
pared. Then can He enter the cleansed heart, and kindle the
fire of love upon the newly-consecrated altar. Then can the
well-inclined and voluntarily-affected will be placed freely at

28 New Studies in Christian Theology.

the disposal of the Lord, to do with it as He lists. The way
of the Lord is prepared. But that is not all ; His path must
be straight ; the understanding must be in accord with the will ;
not only the heart, but the intellect also must be conquered ;
man must abjure error and falsity, and truth and faith must illu-
minate the mind as love and goodness have already enkindled
and warmed the heart. Then, and then only, is the way of the
Lord prepared, and also His path is made straight ; and by this
combination of heart and soul, this accord of will and under-
standing in the interests and acknowledgment of goodness and
truth, is God enthroned in man, and the kingdom of heaven
brought near to every one. ' Repent, then,' said the Baptist,
' for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.' Christ, by His near-
ness, was bringing it to man, and man was implored to meet
Him by preparing his heart and mind by the appointed means
for that reception of goodness and truth which is the realization
of the heavenly state.

And thus was the Providence of God vindicated, and Bap-
tism, as the representative and correspondent of the purifying
process, established, by means of which mankind was so sur-
rounded by heavenly influences that the Church of Christ could
find congenial soil, and ' that great and dreadful day of the
Lord ' became the day of man's long looked for deliverance,
the day of his firmly-founded and ever-advancing salvation,
instead of being (as it would otherwise have been) the day on
which He might have come to 'smite the earth with a curse.'

LECTURE IV.

'glory to god in the highest,'

' And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly
host, praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth
peace, goodwill toward men.' — Luke ii. 13, 14.

Such is the angelic refrain which burst upon the shepherds of
Bethlehem on the announcement of the birth of a Saviour
which is Christ the Lord ! Such is the covenant declared from
God to man, by hosts of ministering spirits, as soon as the first
great step was accomplished, and an incarnate Jehovah lay, a
wailing infant, in a manger, in the city of David.

Those were days of darkness and ignorance — neither intelli-
gence nor spiritual-mindedness were to be found ; the people
had hardened their hearts, the priests imposed heavy burdens,
the prophets were not, and God had seemed to have ceased to
visit His people. A great darkness covered all the land ; every
man, while professing to keep the letter, evaded the spirit of the
law, and did that which was right in his own eyes ; belief and
faith were at their lowest ebb, and to any thoughtful mind the
condition of mankind, and more especially of God's chosen
people, was evil in the extreme — nay, almost hopeless. But
the darkest hour is before the dawn, and when we seem to be
almost overwhelmed with the shadow of misfortune, it some-
times happens that light is beginning to break through the
thick clouds, a light which is destined to shine more and more
unto the perfect day.

So now a light had appeared — a star in the east had shed a
lustrous and prophetic ray — the Star which should come out of

30 Nczu Studies in Christian Theology.

Jacob ; a star in the dawn, which should brighten and ever in-
crease in radiance until it should outshine the sun of this world,
and should irradiate every soul with the beams of the Sun of
Heaven. And thus was the star announced and welcomed by
the angelic host, proclaimed by heaven to earth as 'Good
tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. Glory to
God in the highest ; on earth peace, goodwill towards men !'

Thus was the birth of Christ proclaimed ! the great meeting-
point between God and man : Glory to God, and peace to man.
God and man were thus placed, once and for all, upon terms
of inalienable mutual confidence and goodwill. God descended
from His heavenly state, and, in so doing, raised up man to His
own plane, as it were — a plane on and above which was God,
and on and below which was man ; a plane upon which both
could meet and speak (if we may so say), face to face, as God
spoke with Adam, walking in the garden, in the cool of the
day.

We have not far to search in the ,book which we know to be
the Revelation of Himself by God to His creatures, in order to
discover that its key-note is an event to take place at a time,
once long future, but which, with the continuance of the
record, became nearer and even nearer. The very first chap-
ters tell briefly of man's earliest estate, which, if in the nature
of things it could have endured, would have rendered unne-
cessary that great sacrifice which He foresaw and foreshadowed
from the first. Briefly, indeed, is man's earliest history scanned
by the Bible story ; his innocence, his temptations, his fall, are
all only simply stated, and in the letter alone give but little
clue to all these great spiritual cataclysms which must have
been the tale of ages ; of the slow declension, the sure de-
moralization, which ensued from the gradual insinuation of the
poisonous wisdom of the serpent into the plastic soul, which
came pure from the breath of his Maker. The spiritual under-
lying sense of the Word gives the key to the enigma which has
puzzled the wisdom of the sages and exercised the faculties of
the philosophers of ail ages, ' Whence and wherefore, evil f

' Glory to God in the Highest' 3 1

And with the declaration of the disease is simultaneously pro-
claimed the discovery and the advent of the remedy. The
curse which fell upon sin was simultaneously accompanied by
the promise of an antidote : * I will put enmity between thee
and the woman, and between thy seed and her seed : // shall
bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heel.' From that
time forth no prophet but has foretold, by superhuman presci-
ence, the advent of a divine Saviour ; no seer but has, with
piercing vision down the vista of ages, discerned the God-like
form of a coming Messiah ; no inspired singer but has chosen
as his most favourite theme the deliverance of his race from the
thraldom of evil by a long-promised, yet surely to be fulfilled,
Redeemer of mankind ; and prophet, singer, and seer alike
vie with one another in their ascription of glory, of dignity, of
might, of honour, of power, and of majesty to Him who
should, as the fulfilment of the counsels of Jehovah, thus
come — to Him who, in the fulness of time, did come — Christ,
the Holy One, the Saviour of the world.

But when the shepherds of Bethlehem — simple souls, keep-
ing watch over their flocks by night — were forewarned by an
angelic vision of the divine babe lying hard by, in a manger,
not the glory of the Lord which shone upon them, not the
multitudinous voices of the seraphic choir, nor the new and
angelic gospel proclaimed from heaven itself, could realize to
them that that wailing Infant was the ' Salvation prepared
before the face of all people ; the Light to lighten the Gentiles ;
the glory of God's people, Israel.' A few, like Elizabeth and
Mary, and Zacharias and Simeon and Anna, when they were
filled with the Holy Ghost, saw clearly, and recognized in their
exalted condition, the true nature of Him who was just opening
His new-born eyes to the light of this nether world. But none
else, less favoured, and to whom less than divine inspiration
was granted — none else, without long education, long trial,
long-suffering experience, were able to identify the Babe of
Bethlehem with Him whom the rapt Isaiah characterized by
the names of Wonderful, Counsellor, the mighty God, the

32 Neiv Studies in Christian Theology.

everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace. Even the disciples,
those who followed His footsteps by the waters of the lake,
who heard His teaching in the synagogue and on the sea-shore,
who were eye-witnesses of the blamelessness of His sinless life,
who felt the wondrousness of His superhuman wisdom, who
left all to follow Him — not even those could realize Him as
the Sun of Righteousness, the bright and morning Star ; not,
that is, until He had ascended out of their sight, until He had
returned to where He was before ; until, from the throne of the
Majesty on high. He could send His Holy Spirit to lead them
into all truth, and to open their minds to perceive that the
Scriptures had been at last fulfilled. And it is only from St.
John that we fully learn that the divinely begotten Son of the
A-'irgin of Nazareth was no other than ' the Alpha and the
Omega, the beginning and the ending — which is, and which
was, and which is to come — the Almighty.'

From the very first it will be seen that Christ was to be of
the seed of the woman. The mystery of the Incarnation is a
mystery as to which we may attain a dim perception through
the medium of truths only now beginning to find acceptance,
a mystery which is otherwise impenetrable and inconceivable.
Christ, to be a man, must be born of a woman ; to partake of
our human nature. He must make His entrance upon this
material world by the way prescribed to the human race. To
become a man, He must partake of the nature, including the
frailties of men. No half measure could have effected that
which had become necessary from the lost condition of the
human race. God, as a Spirit, could hold no direct communion
with souls which had become dead to spiritual things, whose
avenues of spiritual life had become totally darkened and oblite-
rated. For man, without God, is dead, past restoration ; and
the whole human race was in this predicament. It is as though
a king saw his whole nation on the brink of destruction, and
was powerless to save them except by some last resource, some
ultimate expedient, which was only possible when everything
else conceivable had absolutely and entirely failed. But God,

* Glory to God in the Highest! 33

who had created the universe, and Man as its crown and corner-
stone, could not, in virtue of His own Divine order, leave him
to perish unassisted. For the crisis was not unanticipated, but
foreseen in the Divine Providence from the very beginning of
time, and, as we have seen, already provided for, when none
but the All-knowing could have conceived of its necessity.
Therefore were all things pre-arranged, and He who had de-
clared of Himself, * I am the Holy One of Israel, thy Saviour '
(Isa. xliii. 3), was prepared to offer Himself as the necessary
sacrifice, to step down from His throne of power and become
the suffering Man ; to live the toiling and anxious life of a man
of the people ; to be a man of sorrows and acquainted with
grief; to be 'more marred than any man ' (Isa. lii. 14); and
all for the one object, that He might renew the race of man-
kind, restore them to their ancient and natural estate, and be
for ever a Mediator between God and man — an appeal from
His Manhood to His Godhead — a High Priest, capable of
being ' touched with the feeling of our infirmities' (Heb. iv. 15).

But no mere 7na?i could do all this. No one of the great
and inspired prophets or sages of old could have soared above
the plane of earth, to which he was bound by the ties of his
birth from earthly parents — none of these could have been free
from the infirmities of earth. Who of these was, or could be,
sinless ? Who of these could even be other than derivatively
holy ? Who of these could have been a Saviour ?

But the Babe of Bethlehem, born of a human mother, and
thus setting foot upon the earth as a citizen, with all the rights
to earth, all the privileges of citizenship possessed by the sons
of the dust, had yet no human father ; and hence was He not
only of this world — was human, but something more. We know
whence cometh the earthly body — we know whence, as babes,
we derive sustenance ; but who can tell whence cometh the
soul that animates us? the spirit which makes the material
form instinct with life, with growing intelligence, with desire of
good, of wisdom, of immortality ? So may we ask of Him that
was heralded by the angels — Whence came He ? How was He

3

34 Nezu Studies in Christian Theology.

related to the Jehovah of the old covenant ? What spirit ani-
mated that mysterious form ? And to these questions we find
a distinct and categorical answer in the ist chapter of St. Luke,
35th verse, when the Angel of Annunciation declares to the
Virgin, * The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and the power
of the Highest shall overshadow thee ; therefore also that Holy
Thing which shall be born of thee shall be called the Son of
God.'' 'Which things,' saith the Apostle, 'the angels desire
to look into ;' which things, too, we may infer some of the
angels at least were entrusted with ; and hence that angel of
the Lord, filled with His Spirit as His mouthpiece to man —
that angelic host whose voices were heard by the dazzled shep-
herds, sang, ' Glory to God in the Highest !' Glory to Him
for the fulfilment of His Providence — for the accomplishment
of His designs of love for His lost creatures — for the infinite
condescension which cradled in an earthly form the Divine
Infant, which was to save His people from their sins — for the
sacrifice which was to entail sorrow, grief, suffering, and death
upon the King of all, the dweller in light unapproachable,
whom the heaven of heavens cannot contain, but who, of His
own free will, unprompted by any power save that of love and
pity, ' made Himself of no reputation, and took upon Him the
form of a servant, and was made in likeness of men : and
being found in fashion as a man, humbled Himself, and be-
came obedient unto death, even the death of the cross ' (Phil.
ii. 7, 8). Well might the angels, the multitude of the heavenly
host, sing their celestial pcean :

'Glory to God in the Highest!'

But this mysterious birth, which is to end in an ignominious
death, and is the fulfilment of the high counsel of Jehovah,
must be of vast importance to ?/^, must exercise an extraordi-
nary and an immediate influence upon the fortunes of man-
kind. How, then, is this effected, so that the astounding
sacrifice and wonderful condescension of God may not only
not fail of its object (which is inconceivable), but may redound

' Glory to God in the Highest.' 35

to His glory, and to the good of those whom it was intended
to benefit ? Thus, then : — Christ was born into the world in
order that the principles which He represents may be born in
us ; for it was the absence, the death of those principles in us,
which had extinguished man's spirituality, and made us, as a
race, dead in trespasses and sins. One by one all the original
principles of holiness implanted in us had lost their hold
upon our hearts ; little by little all the purity and innocence
in which man was created had deserted him, and in their place
had crept in the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye, and the
pride of life. By slow yet ever hastening steps, the soul of
man had declined from its first high estate, until what was
once a fair, unspotted paradise had become ' a habitation for
dragons and a court for owls.' ' Thorns have come up in her
palaces, nettles and brambles in the fortresses thereof (Isa,
xxxiv. 13). It was to restore this ruin that Christ was born, to
repair this desolation : — ist, by becoming a medium between
His Godhead and His Manhood, whereby all things in heaven
and earth are brought into harmonious relation and action : —
2nd, by giving new life and vivifying energy to those remains
of goodness and truth, of which man is never left altogether
destitute, so that he may have a basis upon which to build a
new superstructure, upon the foundation of the Apostles and
Prophets, Jesus Christ Himself being the corner-stone, in whom
all the building, fitly framed together, groweth unto a holy
temple in the Lord : — 3rd, by giving us a living example of
humility, of forbearance, of suffering, of godliness, and true
holiness, and of every virtue found in the teaching of the
Gospel ; so that we may see and feel that it is our duty to
follow Him in all things, and thus to attain as near as possible
to the high standard which He has demonstrated as the prac
ticable ideal of the human soul ; because Christ suffered for
us, leaving us an example that we should follow His steps, who
did no sin, neither was guile found in His mouth : — and lastly,
that, by partaking our human nature. He might conjoin it with
His own Divine nature, and thus become, once for all, the

36 New Studies in Christian Theology.

Mediator between God and man, a High Priest — not one who
cannot be touched with the feeHng of our infirmities, but who
was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin.

These, in brief, are the great benefits whereof mankind are
partakers in His birth — a restoration, a remoulding, a renova-
tion, an exaltation, a salvation. Thus might the angels well
and truly sing : —

Henceforth ' Peace on earth, and goodwill towards men !'

But some may say, Where is this peace ? and who can tell
of this goodwill ? Do we not still see nation fighting against
nation, people against people, brother against brother, and
friend against friend ? Where is this peace to be found ? Do
we not see around us, where goodwill should abound, many
things the reverse of this — uncharitableness, falseness, treachery,
ingratitude, revenge, men requiting evil for evil, or even evil
for good? Alas! all this we see — too clearly. But do we
not also see brotherly love, true charity, mutual kindness, im-
selfish affection, unsparing benevolence, long-suftering, for-
giveness, gentleness, meekness, and undying faith? God be
praised, these we also see ; and such a leaven working in the
whole lump of humanity as has never been seen or felt before
for thousands of years. Yes ; Christ's example is not lost ;
the dowry of peace on earth and goodwill towards men, which
was sung by the multitudes of the heavenly host on the first
Christmas morn, has endowed, and will continue for ever in-
creasingly to endow, humanity with those qualities which will
render it more and more fit for companionship with the angelic
hosts whose tongues first proclaimed it as the promise of the
coming Christ. For there is peace on earth — the peace of a
good conscience, void of offence towards God and towards
man; ^ peace to every man that worketh good ' (Rom. ii. 10);
peace, where it has met with righteousness and kissed it ; peace
in the paths of true wisdom (Prov. iii. 17); peace to all those
who follow the things which make for peace (Rom. xiv. 1 9) ;
peace to those that be spiritually minded (Rom. viii. 6) ; peace

' Glory to God in the Highest! 37

to those that enjoy the fruits of the Spirit ; peace to all such as
whose feet are 'shod with the preparation of the Gospel of Feace^
(Eph. vi. 15).

It is worthy of remark, indeed it would be wrong to omit it,
that the revised edition of the New Testament reads this pas-
sage somewhat differently from that with which we have been
so long familiar. INIoreover, that the new reading is a more
faithful translation of the text there can be no doubt. We find
it there written, * And on earth peace among men in whom
He is well pleased.' But a slight examination of this reading
fully confirms what has just been said. ' For there is tw peace,
saith the Lord, to the wicked ;^ it is to those who do His will
to whom peace comes ; and in such alone is He well pleased.
* Peace be with you ' was the salutation of Christ to His dis-
ciples ; and for what was He come to men but to give light to
them that sat in darkness, and to guide our feet into the way of
peace? But, nevertheless, such peace can only be enjoyed by
those whose ways are pure and upright in the sight of God.
The wicked saith, Peace, peace, when there is no peace. But
great peace have they which love His law, and nothing shall
offend them. May we all be partakers of this peace !

LECTURE V.

' BEHOLD THE LAMB OF GOD !'

' Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the shi of the world !' —
John i. 29.

These were the inspired words of the Baptist when he saw
Jesus coming unto him to receive from him that baptism, in the
waters of the Jordan, which He demanded and underwent as
an example to those who should follow Him. John, the fore-
runner, who preceded Him but a brief space by birth into this
world, had, like Jesus, lived probably a life of quiet and medi-
tation, filled with the inspirations of the great mission to which
he was called. His life was that of one to the world unknown
and obscure. None knew of him as one distinguished above
his brethren ; none remembered the prophetic words of the
angel to Zacharias at the altar ; only in his own soul there
brooded and grew a grand idea ; in his own meditative and
contemplative spirit he gradually realized the Messiah as One
near at hand, as One who was his contemporary and his
fellow-countryman, as One who, yet unknown to him, should
some day, in the fulness of time, burst upon his vision, not as
a mere man, without form or comeliness, and with no beauty
that he should desire him, but as one whom his soul longed
for, One in whom was the beauty of holiness, One whom his
spiritual insight discerned as the Light of the world. John
knew not ivho it was for whom he was a Voice in the wilderness,
crying, ' Prepare ye the way of the Lord !' — he knew not, any
more than those about him, who it was that was nigh at hand ;
but when he saw Jesus Himself among them, and coming unto

'Behold the Lamb of God!' 39

him, when he saw the Spirit descending from heaven like a
dove, and abiding upon Him, tlmi he knew Him as the Son of
God, and announced, with a voice like a trumpet, to an ex-
pectant multitude, ' Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh
away the sin of the world !'

And the words which the forewarned and inspired Baptist
proclaimed on the day when the Messiah first made His public
appearance among men, when He began to be about thirty
years of age, are also those which might be said of Him when
He first appeared upon the theatre of this lower world. There
were some then who knew that the babe in the manger was the
Lamb of God. Simeon knew it, and Anna, and Mary. The
three wise men who followed the star in the East, and brought
their offerings to the cradle-side, knew it. The shepherds, to
whom the announcement was made by the angel, knew it,
though perhaps the impression made was but transient ; and
indeed, notwithstanding all the miraculous accompaniments of
the great and momentous event, the memory of it seems to
have faded from the minds of men. When the aged prophets
and prophetesses had been gathered to their fathers, and during
the long period of infancy, childhood, youth, and adolescence
of the wondrous-born child, the remembrance of it had been
discarded from men's minds; and it needed the Heaven-directed
exclamation of John to recall the events of a generation ago;
and to many the memory of a half-grasped, and again lost,
Messiah must have thrilled as with an electric shock at the
words of the enthusiast of the wilderness, ' Behold the Lamb
of God, which taketh away the sin of the world !'

Words more suitable, indeed, could scarcely have proclaimed
His advent in the flesh ; when He was placed, a helpless babe,
in a manger for a cradle, when being, as it behoved Him, made
in all things like unto His brethren. He assumed humanity in
its utmost weakness, and, by a mystery unfathomable to us,
became an infant, destined to pass through all the stages of
material growth and development, while the Divine within Him
should increase unto the measure of the stature of the perfect

40 New Studies in Christian Theology.

God ; until the Divine Truth, temporarily disunited, should be
ultimately once more perfectly conjoined with the Divine Love;
until the Father in heaven, and the Son upon earth, should be
again one and indivisible, and evermore a perfect Divine-human,
an eternal God-man. For then, as the shepherds gazed awe-
stricken at the Heaven-proclaimed and innocent babe, as the
wise men knelt adoringly before the manger-cradled infant, as
the mother bent wonderingly over her mysterious and wor-
shipped offspring, as Simeon and Anna reverently held in their
arms the young off-shoot of David, one and all knew, and one
and all could have testified, ' Behold the Lamb of God, which
taketh away the sin of the world !'

And never was a lamb more necessary as an atonement for
sin ; for never was the world in so great a strait as now. Ages
of declension from an original state of innocence and of good-
ness had reduced mankind to a condition of evil and sin, which
was rapidly resulting in its destruction, utter and irremediable.
Worldhness and unspirituality had made fatal inroads into a
nature which had once been such that it could hear the voice
of the Lord God walking in the garden in the cool of the day.
They had followed evil, and despised good ; they had sought
darkness, and despised light ; they had fallen away from
holiness and truth ; they had rebelled against the command-
ments of Jehovah ; they had stoned the prophets, who were the
voice of God ; they had followed their own evil devices, and
cultivated the thorns and briers of the deceitful and desperately
wicked heart, until their case had become desperate ; the face
of God was veiled ; darkness covered the earth, and gross
darkness the people ; and — where was the lamb for a burnt-
offering ?

But although God could not show His face in the manner He
had done in the former time, although He could not but abhor
the evil which had fallen upon men, and cut them off from
communion with Him, He was not unmindful of them, nor did
He forget His promises. The seed of the woman should yet
bruise the head of the serpent; though how, no one knew.

'Behold the Lamb of God!' 41

There were but few in those days who remembered these pro-
mises of God ; but few cared to think of them. For though all
looked for a Messiah, it was for an earthly leader, a temporal
king, a material power which should hurl their conquerors from
their firm seats and restore the glories of David. And yet there
were some to whose mind the old promises were ever present ;
some there were, the salt of the earth, who mourned the evil
times upon which they were fallen ; there were some, a rem-
nant, who ever prayed that the Lord would remember Israel.
But this remnant preserved their faith, and cherished their
belief, and they said within their hearts, ' God will provide
Himself a lamb for a burnt-offering ' {Gen. xxii. 8). It was
indeed time ; and He who could lay down His life and could
take it up again, the Lord of Life, sent His Son, the Divine
Truth in a human form, to be that Sacrifice for sin which was
so sorely needed. This was the great sacrifice, the greatest of
all sacrifices, that to which all the sacrifices of the Old Testa-
ment dispensation figuratively pointed — the consummation of
sacrifices, which has abolished for evermore all representative
sacrifice : for ' Now, once, in the end of the world, hath He
appeared, to put away sin by the sacrifice of Himself (Heb.
ix. 26) ; and thus 'This man, after He had offered one sacrifice
for sins, for ever, sat down at the right hand of God. For by
one offering hath He perfected for ever them that are sancti-
fied ' (x. 12, 14). Behold, then, the Lamb of God which taketh
away the sin of the world.

In what sense, then, we may ask, was our Divine Saviour a
Lamb, by whose death we are preserved, and by whose blood
we are purified ? It is easy to understand that by a ' lamb '
was meant more especially * innocence ;' and, above all, that in-
terior innocence which arises from a profound appreciation of
goodness and a deep-seated love of truth. For, although the
young of all animals exhibit traits of that infantile gentleness
which commend them to the best feelings of our own nature,
it is the lamb which, beyond all others, claims to be the natural
type of innocence, whether from its white and snowy fleece, its

42 Neiu Studies in Christian Theology.

lively and active gambols, its timid nature, or its entire freedom
from the least shadow of harmfulness. All these qualities endear
it to children, the innocents of our own race, and make it the
most fit companion, the most meet emblem, and the most suit-
able representation of the quality all so highly prize — a quality
which all possess at the opening of their lives, but which must
be forfeited as the penalty of inherited sin, only to be regained
by the aid of Him who is Innocency itself, ' the Lamb of God,
which taketh away the sin of the world.'

But by the interior sense of the Word, we are to regard our
Saviour as a Lamb in virtue of His humanity, that Divine
humanity which He assumed at His incarnation, and which He
carried with Him when He returned to the Majesty on high, in
a perfected and glorified condition. That humanity was the
Word, and that Word was Truth (John i. 14; xvii. 17); in
which sense, as the Divine Truth, He was from the beginning ;
but when the Word came, clothed in flesh, unto His own. His
own received Him not, knew Him not. And thus was the
Lamb first slain when He stood, unacknowledged, in the midst
of His Church. Thus was He seen in the vision of the
Apocalypse, when (v. 6), ' Behold, and lo, in the midst of the
throne and of the four animals, and in the midst of the elders,
stood a Lamb as it had been slain.' This is He 'who liveth
and was dead, and behold (saith He) I am alive for evermore '
(i. 18).

And the Lamb was thus slain in more senses than one ; for,
figuratively, the denial of the Divine Truth of His humanity,
was tantamount to His slaying ; while His death upon the cross,
at the end of His earthly career, was an actual slaying of Him
in the flesh, accompanied by that shedding of blood whose
spiritual meaning is so important to ourselves. And when we
refuse to acknowledge Him, or to be influenced and governed
by Him, we must ever remember that, in the words of the
Apostle, * we crucify the Son of God afresh.'

It seems remarkable, at first sight, that so much stress should
be laid upon the shedding of blood. To most people the idea

' Behold the Lamb of God /' 43

of bloodshed under any circumstances is repulsive ; and there
can be no reason to suppose that to God, who is purity and
holiness itself, the shedding of blood can be, in itself, any
pleasure or satisfaction. Nor, indeed, can it by any possibility
be so ; and those who imagine that God takes delight in the
sacrifice of lambs, or goats, or calves, or oxen, merely for the
sake of the blood which they shed, not only err greatly, but also
do a gross and foul injustice to the God of mercy and of
justice. Such people cannot comprehend otherwise, conceiving
only according to their natural minds ; and such persons, there-
fore, can bring themselves to the idea that the God who
delights in those sacrifices of innocent animals, can take plea-
sure in the blood and death-agonies of His only Son. Such
gross conceptions are far removed from Truth, which cannot
conceive of Christ as a vicarious sacrifice — which cannot, that is,
entertain for a moment the belief that Christ has died instead
of us, the innocent for the guilty ; or that God can for a
moment accept the death of His Son in payment of the debt of
sin incurred by us. The blood of Christ means something far
more subtle, far higher and holier than this. Like everything
else connected with Christian doctrine, or with spiritual teach-
ing, it is representative, and has a full, grand, and pure meaning,
devoid of anything approaching the gross or repulsive.

The blood of any animal, as that of our own bodies, is, as
we all know, the carrier of nutritious particles to the whole
organic system. No portion, be it ever so minute, is unvisited
by the vitalizing stream ; and our bodies are built up, even to
their extremest particles, by their contact with the ever-flowing
fountain of life — 'For the blood is the life.'

But blood stands among things of earth as the representative
of Divine Truth, and Divine Truth is to the soul what blood is to
the body. For the soul is not a mere shadow or formless sub-
stance, without parts or dimensions, but it is an organized, an
elaborately endowed spiritual body — not, indeed, circulating a
gross material fluid, but which is permeated in every part by the
streams of Divine Truth. By this truth it is fed and nourished,

44 Nciv Studies in Christian Theology.

becoming more and more spiritual and celestial in proportion
as it assimilates more and more of that eternal and ineffable
quality, that Divine pabulum, which we begin to receive here,
but in far less copious streams than we shall be able to receive
hereafter. This explains the saying of our Lord, so difficult for
His disciples to understand, and so hard to be received by
many of us, ' For My blood is drink indeed ' (John vi. 55).

Thus that which, naturally speaking, would only defile, in
spiritual meaning is that which alone can purify ; and therefore
it was that the blood of a lamb, without blemish, was sprinkled
upon the door-posts to avert the visit of the destroying angel,
just as the blood of the Lamb of God, which taketh away the
sins of the world, sprinkled upon our consciences, will purify
them and drive away all the evil and falsity which would other-
wise destroy the soul. And so also it was that, at the consecra-
tion of Aaron and his sons to the priesthood, it was com-
manded, ' Thou shalt take of the blood that is upon the altar,
and sprinkle it upon Aaron, and upon his garments, and upon
his sons, and upon the garments of his sons with him : and he
shall be hallowed, and his garm.ents, and his sons, and his sons'
garments with him ' (Exod. xxix. 21) — a figure well understood
by the Apostle of the New Testament dispensation, who said
to the Hebrews (x. 22) : 'Let us draw near with a true heart,
in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled from an
evil conscience, and our bodies washed with pure water.'

For not only does the blood carry nourishment to the re-
motest parts of the body, as Divine Truth strengthens the organic
frame of the soul ; but inasmuch as the body, particle by par-
ticle, decays, and is renewed by the vivifying contact of the
blood, so also the blood has another and a scarcely less important
office, namely, to remove and sweep away those effete particles
which, if they remained, would act as a poison to the organism ',
so that it is also a purifier of the body, carrying away all that
is noxious, all that is hurtful. So also Divine Truth carries away
all falsity, all error, all evil, purifying the soul and cleansing all
the secret chambers of the heart, and thus rendering it a shrine

^Behold the Lavih of God f 45

fit for the dwelling-place of God and Christ. If, therefore, Ave
admit into our hearts this Divine Truth, we shall render it sus-
ceptible of those momentous advantages which the blood of
the Lamb which was slain can confer upon us ; and thus can
we partake of the blessings of His birth, and of the benefits of
His death, as well as of the glory of His resurrection.

But we shall not advantage ourselves if we only look to His
cross, and flatter ourselves that by it we shall be vicariously
saved, without our own co-operation. He has said, ' Whosoever
doth not bear his cross, and come after Me, cannot be My
disciple.' And in order to be a follower of the Lamb, we must
also be followers of that innocence and chastity of which the
Lamb was the figure ; we must ' crucify the flesh with its affec-
tions and lusts ;' we must present our bodies a living sacrifice,
holy, acceptable unto God, which is our reasonable service.
Thus the Lamb of God taketh away the sin of the world, by
showing the way to that freedom from sin, that innocency of
which He is the type ; by enabling us to imitate the example
He has set us, and by implanting in our hearts that Divine
Truth of which He is both the type and the reality.

Let us look to this Lamb of God, not only as a recipient of
baptism in Jordan, but as we find Him in the Revelation,
when the innocency of the Divine humanity is pictured as re-
presenting the inmost heaven, the throne of God Himself.
' And I beheld, and, lo, in the midst of the throne and of the
four beasts, and in the midst of the elders, stood a Lamb as it
had been slain . . . And I beheld, and I heard the voice of many
angels round about the throne, and the beasts, and the elders ;
and the number of them was ten thousand times ten thousand,
and thousands of thousands : saying with a loud voice. Worthy
is the Lamb that was slain to receive power, and riches, and
wisdom, and strength, and honour, and glory, and blessing . . .
Blessing, and honour, and glory, and power, be unto Him that
sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb for ever and ever.
Amen' (Rev. v. 6, 11-14).

LECTURE VI.

'VE MUST BE BORN AGAIN.'

♦Marvel not that I said unto thee, Ye must be bom again.'— John iii. 7.

NicoDEMUS, the fearful ruler of the Jews, who yet desired to be
the disciple of our Lord, was not the only one who marvelled at
this hard saying of his Teacher. To be born again could con-
vey to him, as a Jew, at first sight, no other idea than a natural
one ; and it seemed to him that it needed even something more
than a miracle to carry out Christ's idea. The Jews, at this
earlier period of our Lord's teaching, were not yet accustomed
to the apparent paradoxes which so often fell from His lips.
They were not yet alive to the fact that there were mysteries to
be unfolded which they were utterly unable to fathom ; a reason
to be laid bare, with which no explanations could render them
familiar in their present condition of thought and feeling. And
when our blessed Lord, at the very outset of His conversation
with Nicodemus, enunciated the startling aphorism, ' Verily,
verily, I say unto thee, Except a man be born again, he cannot
see the kingdom of God,' the Master of Israel was staggered
with a sense of the impossibility of its performance, and with a
feeling that the idea propounded was either a mystical dogma
savouring of gnosticism, or a mere endeavour to make sport of
him by a meaningless paradox.

And yet, although our Lord's sayings have before been
spoken of as seeming paradoxes, it was far from His wish or
intention that they should appear so. Nothing that our Lord
uttered was really paradoxical ; it might be mysterious, and it

* Ve Mlusf he Born Again* 47

often was hard to comprehend; but whatever it was, it contained
within it the kernel of Divine Truth. It might be very often
difficult, nay, impossible, for his disciples even, to penetrate its
casket of words, and to comprehend the contained sense, but
the sense was always there, only He who uttered the words
spoke them to dull ears, and to weak understandings, upon
which they often fell unheeded. Yet were they a rich legacy
to future generations, whose accumulated inheritance of know-
ledge and of spiritual insight enables them, in these days, to
search them as miners search a rich mine, to be rewarded with
jewels and gems, hitherto overlooked, but now affording an
ample harvest and reward. No explanations of His words in
those days would have availed to render His auditory more re-
ceptive ; while a too plain unveiling of spiritual truth would
have been but a ' casting of pearls before swine,' with a result
not beneficial, but in the highest degree injurious to the re-
cipients of His Truth.

But in the present instance our Lord did not let Nicodemus
long remain in his natural error. In this case, so important to
every man who followed Him, He deigned at once to explain
His words, and to let His timid disciples go away wondering
and impressed, but enhghtened and satisfied. And so His
aphorism was at once followed by its explanation, and the
astonished inquiry, ' How can a man be born when he is old ?'
was not left long unanswered. For now, according to the
narrative of the Evangelist, our Lord was on the very threshold
of His ministry ; He had just, as expressed by St. Luke, estab-
lished the fulfilment of the prophecy of Esaias, which proclaimed
that He was anointed 'to preach the Gospel to the poor, to
heal the broken-hearted, to preach deliverance to the captives,
and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that
are bruised.' And all these things are signified by the New
Birth, which proclaims the Gospel to poor souls who stand in
need of its support and solace ; heals the broken-hearted peni-
tent by assurances of forgiveness and newness of life ; preaches
deliverance to the captives held in bondage by sin ; the re-

48 Nezu Studies in Christian Theology.

covery of sight to those who have all their lives been blinded
by the dazzle and glitter of sin and the world ; and sets at
liberty them that are bruised and buffeted by the messengers
of Satan. For let us remember that, when Christ came, His
forerunner had already preached repentance; a repentance
which was not to be a barren sentiment, but which was to yield
fruits meet and worthy of that great wave of conviction which
is signified by the axe being laid to the root of the tree ; and
the first effect of the advent of the Messiah was proclaimed to
be a turning from evil, a renunciation of sin, and a serious and
real pursuit of good.

We have but to call to mind our condition by nature to un-
derstand the full purport of the great change which was implied
by the uncompromising words, ' Ye must be born again.' For
by nature we all have sinned, and come short of the glory of
God ; we are born in sin, and shapen in iniquity (Psa. li.) ; we
were by nature children of wrath, even as others (Eph. ii. 3) ;
expressions which imply an hereditary disposition to evil,
inherited by all men from their parents, from generation to
generation, since the Fall, when, ' as by one man sin entered
the world, and death by sin ; and so death passed upon all men,
for that all have sinned' (Rom. v. 12). Thus the disposition
to evil is inherent in all, however much their dispositions may
vary as to the degree of actual sin practised by each man. For
mere inherited sin is not to be laid to our account, unless we
adopt it, as it were — unless we hug it and make it actual by
showing it a preference and taking delight in it. Yet, inasmuch
as our nature is sinful, we are all prone to do this to a greater
or less extent ; and no man can be entirely free from this evil
bias and its consequences. Every man, therefore, is by nature
sinful, and is born in sin ; nor can any deliver himself from the
consequences of sin.

Neither, on the other hand, can a righteous God tolerate sin,
whether inherited or actual ; for He is of purer eyes than to
behold iniquity, and in our natural dress we cannot stand
before Him. Optimists, who have not studied the eternal laws

'Ve Must be Born Again' 49

of justice and order, may imagine that God is too indulgent to
regard a sinful nature as responsible for the evils it entails ;
they even go so far as to suppose that a comparative abstinence
from active evil is a virtue which will entirely compensate in
His eyes for the peccadilloes (as they call them) which every-
one is liable to commit. Such easy-going moralists imagine
that a man of amiable disposition, who will not do evil to his
neighbour, fulfils the law and merits a place in the heavenly
mansions ; quite forgetting the strict precept of our text, which
demands an utter and entire change of our natural character,
and the assumption of a code of ethics entirely foreign to the
nature into which we were born. Such a creed is dangerous
in the extreme, because it lulls men in a false security. It is
the creed of ignorance and indolence, a false morality, and a
deceitful snare ; yet it is of wide acceptation, and is one which
many of us may remember to have passed through, at some
stage or other of our career.

But it is this very state of things which must be put off. This
is the natural mind which must be changed for the spiritual ;
this is the old Adam which must be crucified; and it is to
many a martyrdom to part with the old habits and beliefs ; and
especially if the new ones entail the necessity of taking up our
Cross. Yet, as we cannot be born again in a natural sense, so
is it incumbent upon every one of us that we be born again in
a spiritual sense ; and we cannot fail to be, each one of us,
conscious whether this great change has or has not been effected
in our hearts ; we cannot fail to be cognizant of the fact as to
whether there have or have not been awakened in our souls
new desires to conquer the old ones, new loves of the good
and true to cast out the old corrupt ones of our original and
famihar nature ; new aspirations, soaring heavenward, and
springing above the grovelling delights which characterize all
who still remain in the gall of bitterness and in the bond of
iniquity.

For no man can by any possibility have undergone a new
birth without feeling a rejuvenescence of soul, a lightness of

4

50 New Studies in Christian TJieology.

heart, to which he was previously a stranger. The natural man
is as one who is wandering in a desert, in which nothing
flourishes but brambles and thorns, in which none but evil
beasts and loathsome creatures have their habitation ; for in
the natural mind evils predominate, and rapidly spring up and
choke the remnant of goodness which a man possesses ; all is
confusion and disorder ; no principle of good is in action which
can result in an ultimate orderly arrangement; and evil thoughts,
like inauspicious birds, brood unchecked in the heart. But of
this wilderness the Holy Spirit can make an Eden ; and in the
new-born or regenerate man, the promise made in the prophecy
of Isaiah (Ivi. 3) is fulfilled, ' For the Lord shall comfort Zion :
He will comfort all her waste places ; and He will make her
wilderness like Eden, and her desert like the garden of the
Lord; joy and gladness shall be found therein, thanksgiving
and the voice of melody.'

But how is this great work effected in us, by which is pro-
duced that mighty and beneficial change which we call Regene-
ration ? The words in which our Lord amplified His meaning
to Nicodemus in the chapter before us, if carefully studied, will
leave us, as it left His disciple, enlightened and strengthened.
His first explanation is one which, like His words in general,
may be misunderstood, if we forget who was speaking, and in
what guise His words were wont to be uttered. The words of
the Lord are too often interpreted like the words of men, and
we are too apt to regard them simply from a superficial point of
view, forgetting that He had said of them, that they are spirit
and they are life. Of what other words can this be predicated ?
and how can we doubt that the Lord's words transcend all
others, and require to be spiritually discerned, not in the aspect
of the mere letter, but in the deep meaning which corresponds
with things divine ?

Jesus answered, * Verily, verily, I say unto thee, except a
man be born of water and of the Spirit, he cannot enter into
the kingdom of God.' Is water then necessary to the new
birth ? and can washing make a man regenerate ? Some will

'Ve Must be Born Again' 51

answer this question in the affirmative, and be prepared to
beheve and assert that the washing or sprinkling of water in
baptism will effect an important change in a man's spiritual
condition ; will, in fact, put his faith in the doctrine of baptismal
regeneration, forgetting that material water cannot wash away
spiritual sin, and that external washing will not extend its
benefits to internal evil. But water, in the language of our
Lord, always signifies the Divine Truth — that living water, which,
if a man drink, he will never thirst more — that well of water
springing up into everlasting life, which the woman of Samaria
asked to partake of. And to be born of water is to be meta-
phorically washed from all the evils of sin, to be purified within,
even as the body is purified without, to have that effected which
the repentance preached by St. John in the wilderness was to
bring about, viz., the reformation of life, the putting away of
sin, the ceasing to do evil. This being done as a preliminary
step, then is regeneration completed by the agency of the
Spirit, who instils into the purified heart, thus prepared for his
dwelling, all that vitalizes and renews, all that is holy and good,
all that illuminates and inspires. Thus by water and the Spirit
is the old man expelled and the new man created day by day;
the natural man becomes effete and dead, and the spiritual
man takes his place, and complete regeneration both of outward
life and inward soul is completed and consummated.

For that which is born of flesh is that which we bring with
our natural bodies by the first birth ; while that which is born
of spirit is entirely foreign to it, and can only be obtained by
the second, or new birth. The works of the flesh enumerated
by the Apostle must be expelled, and the works of the spirit
must take their place ; for the flesh lusteth against the spirit,
and the spirit against the flesh ; and these are contrary one to
another. But the new birth is the conquest of the spirit over
the flesh ; and to be regenerate is to walk in the spirit, so as
not to fulfil the lust of the flesh (Gal. v.). ' Marvel not then,'
continued our Lord, * that I said unto thee, Ye must be born
again.'

4—2

52 Nezv Studies in Christian Theology.

And then, in these few words, having demonstrated the
nature of Regeneration, He proceeds, in an equally brief and
terse manner, to describe how it is effected ; in words, indeed,
which the unspiritual will find deep problems, too high for
them ; but which, if approached in a humble and spiritually-
minded manner, will be found pregnant with meaning and
import. ' The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest
the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, nor
whither it goeth; so is everyone that is born of the Spirit.' Thus
is it demonstrated that regeneration is not the work of man,
but of God. The new birth is no more to be effected by man
alone, than is that birth of which it is the antitype. ',Yet, never-
theless, must man desire its benefits, and co-operate with the
moving Spirit, which seeks to effect it. We cannot trace in our
own souls the marvellous process which the Spirit of God is
working in our hearts ; but we may perceive that a great change
has been effected in us, and may exclaim : ' This is the Lord's
doing, and it is. marvellous in our eyes.' It is the growth of
the soul — which we can no more distinctly trace than we can
the germination of a seed, or the development of a leaf j but
we know that a seed has been planted in a favourable soil, and
from it there will spring first the blade, then the ear, and then
the corn in the ear. ' For the kingdom of heaven is as if a
man should cast seed into the ground, and should sleep and
rise night and day, and the seed should spring and grow up, he
knoweth not hozu'' (Mark iv. 26).

But yet are we fellow-workers with the Spirit, whose efforts
need our co-operation. We must will to do that which is good
and right, and then will the Lord's influence work in us both
to will and to do of His good pleasure, although we may not
understand the steps by which His work is effected.

For in this new birth we also receive from the Lord new
life. The soul lives not truly until its inmost faculties are
opened, and in the natural man they are closed. Naturally we
are dead unto sin ; spiritually we become, by regeneration, alive
unto righteousness. And we cannot ourselves compass the

'Ye Bliist he Born Again.' 53

awakening to life of the soul any more than we can com-
prehend the dawning of material life, so to speak, in our bodies,
or in the seeds which spring up in the fields around us ; but
the birth of the soul once begun, we can aid the Spirit in its
work by nourishing it with suitable food and drink, by follow-
ing and appropriating goodness and truth ; and thus, by degrees
may the soul grow up to the measure of the stature of the
perfect man. But there are many temptations to quit the right
path, to partake of evil food, unwholesome for the soul ; and
temptations must be overcome, and will be overcome in pro-
portion as we become established in the love of good for its
own sake. In all temptations we shall learn to perceive the
merciful hand of a loving God, who permits them, as a source
of power to the soul ; and we shall gradually learn to be assured
that 'we shall reap if we faint not.'

The words of our Lord, then, * Ye must be born again,'
should ever be in our minds ; for if we must be born again we
should lose no time in seeking the aid of the Holy Spirit, with-
out which our regeneration can never be effected or even .
begun ; but by whose operation and influence we may learn in
time to ' put off the former conversation of the old man, which
is corrupt, according to deceitful lusts, and be renewed in the
spirit of our mind ; and put on the new man, which, after God,
is created in righteousness and true holiness ' (Eph. iv. 22-25),

LECTURE VII.

'as MOSES LIFTED UP THE SERPENT IN THE WILDERNESS.'

' And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the
Son of Man be lifted up.'— John iii. 14.

To the secret visit of the timid Nicodemus to our Lord we are
indebted, under Providence, for those priceless teachings con-
cerning the new birth, which were such a puzzle to him, and to
us so full of meaning, and so replete with instruction of the
highest kind. For this mystery of a new birth, so clearly
explained to the Jewish master, underlies all the teaching of the
Gospel ; and is, indeed, the basis of all the advantages held out
to us as followers of Christ. It is the condition, as it were,
upon which we are to be admitted members of the fellowship
of Christ; and without a clear comprehension of it we can make
no step in advance towards that goal which we all profess to
have before us as a landmark and beacon.

But Nicodemus comprehended not at first the conditions of
this new birth. His doubt and his want of spiritual insight
are expressed in Holy Writ by the simple question, ' How can
these things be ?' but it is enough ; and although he probably left
our Lord a wiser and better man, he was but in the position of
each one of us, who, for the first time, hears and weighs the
deep truths of the Gospel.

Still, probably many will ask, 'What connection is there
between the new birth and the lifting up of the brazen serpent
in the wilderness ?' At first sight, indeed, this verse seems in-
consequential and forced ; but every line and every word of
the sacred writings bears a close inspection, and indeed requires

'As Moses lifted 21 p the Serpent in the Wilderness! 55

a deep and steadfast consideration, in order to make it yield
the fruit it is intended to bear to our spiritual advancement ;
and such a consideration will show that there was, indeed, a
close connection and an intimate bond of union between the
emblematical serpent of the Old Testament and man's condi-
tion in the New, when the Son of man came to seek and to
save that which was lost.

For it must be borne in mind that in the very outset of our
human history, as recorded in the correspondential language of
the first chapters of Genesis, we find the serpent playing a very
important part. The very first chapter (Genesis ii.) describes
the state of innocence in which man was placed in the
garden of Eden. For in this state of innocence there can
be no reasonable doubt that man did begin his moral
and scriptural history — if there be any meaning in the sacred
record — a state of innocence which lasted for an indefinite
and unknown period, and which only came to an end when
the serpent appeared upon the scene. In the last verse of
this chapter we have the record of their purity ; and in the
very next verse, the first of the following chapter, we read this
pregnant passage, ' Now the ser-pent was more subtle (crafty)
than any beast of the field which the Lord had made. And he
said unto the woman. Yea, hath God said. Ye shall not eat of
every tree of the garden ?' Do we suppose, when it is said the
serpent was more crafty than any other ' beast,' or ' living
thing,' that its craft extended to imitating the speech of man,
and talking with human voice to the woman ?

No; we no more suppose this than we suppose that this same
crafty serpent at this period walked upon feet, because it was
part of its punishment henceforth, * upon thy belly shalt thou
go,' or has ever since fed upon dust. But we adopt the reason-
able idea, which renders consistent and rational the whole
context, that the serpent, so designated, was a symbolized
principle which, from the very first, was at war with our human
nature ; a principle which was persuasive and specious — to
which, if we listened, it would work our ruin, but which it was

56 Nezv Studies in Christian Theology.

our duty to resist to the last ; a principle to which, if we suc-
cumbed, it would enslave us, by means of the lying promise,
* Thou shalt not surely die,' but which, if we duly and strenu-
ously resisted, we should be enabled to conquer and to trample
it under our feet.

This principle, therefore, which the serpent represents, is one
which is necessary to the completeness of our earthly nature ;
it is an essential part of the being of creatures, who, like man-
kind, are destined, for wise purposes, to spend the infancy and
probationary period of their existence upon an earth where they
must use their external senses. These senses in themselves are
good, like everything which God made ; but they require to be
kept ahve, as it were, by earthly exercise, and are liable to be
unduly brought into prominence and to enslave their owners —
to become, as it were, masters, where they were intended to
be only servants, unless they are kept in subjection by higher
feelings, and restrained within due bounds by the dominance
of a superior principle.

This sensuous principle in man was evidently intended to
work for our good. All things that were created, when reviewed
by their Creator, were pronounced to be very good ; but the
position which this principle was to occupy in our nature was
denoted by the behest that man should have dominion over
every living thing that moveth upon the earth. For if this
sensual principle, which is such an essential part of our natures,
be not kept in subordination, it follows that it must be elevated
at the expense of something better in us, something which has
better right to hold a high position in the aggregate of the
qualities which make up the sum of our human nature. In a
word, if the sensual principle is allowed to predominate, it can
only do so by supplanting our rational principle ; it can only
rule by enslaving our reason, through the conquest of our
spiritual nature by the base passions of an earthy sensuality.

All the wrestlings of mankind which were to result in this
unhappy thraldom were foreseen by Him who placed us upon
this sphere of strife and struggle ; and God, who had given His

'As Jl loses lifted up the Serpent in the Wilderness! 57

creatures a freedom of will and a power to maintain an inde-
pendent and personal equilibrium between good and evil, fore-
saw, in His omniscience, that man would first /^r//. I S3.y,jirst
fall ; for we cannot doubt that if this had been the normal and
inevitable condition of mankind, the All-wise would not have
permitted so terrible a fate for His creatures. But the very
earliest promise given to man, while it implied his fall, also fore-
told his restoration ; while it acknowledged the inevitable, also
showed the Providence of God, who in these, as it were, early
days of man's career, had already provided a means of escape
from the penalty which must follow the breaking of the law of
life ; and by which also he should be enabled, laboriously and
slowly, to climb back to that pinnacle of goodness from which
he had fallen. * I will put enmity between thee and the woman :
and between t/ry seed and her seed : it shall bruise thy head,
and thou shalt bruise his heel.' And this promise did God
redeem when ' He also Himself likewise took part of flesh and
blood : that through death He might destroy him that had the
power of death, that is, the devil ; and deliver them who,
through fear of death, were all their lifetime subject to bondage '
(Heb. ii. 14, 15).

But it is evident that there was but one way of recovering man
from the conquest made of his soul by the powers of sensuality
and sin. The sensuous principle, which had been unduly
glorified at the expense of a higher and more noble character-
istic, must be reduced once more to subjection ; the rational
principle, which had been dethroned and ignominiously thrust
from its seat and trampled under foot, must resume its sove-
reignty. Thus only could this sensuous principle, good in
itself, become again an element, as it were, in the goodness of
man. Like fire, it was a good servant, but a bad master. As
a master, it lowered man's whole nature, and degraded his whole
being ; as a servant, it was an orderly factor in man's advance-
ment, in his typical nature, and in his normal spirituality.
The excessive preponderance given to the sensuous principle
was, as it were, an injustice to itself — by giving it undue influ-

58 Neiv Studies in CJuistiau TJieology.

ence, to its own disadvantage and undoing. It had an ap-
pointed place where it was beneficial and healthy ; but, exalted
into the place of another, it became itself degraded, and was
productive of general mischief and universal harm. Its resto-
ration, therefore, to its natural sphere was like the reduction of
a fevered pulse, which, as long as it was unnaturally exalted,
was destructive alike to the system and to itself.

When, therefore (as we read in the twenty-first chapter of the
book of Numbers), the children of Israel were plagued by fiery
serpents which the Lord sent among the people, and they bit
the people, and much people of Israel died, we understand that
the serpent was made instrumental to the punishment of those
sins among the Israelites which are typified by the serpent.
And when the people repented, and Moses prayed for the
people, ' The Lord said unto Moses, Make thee a fiery serpent,
and set it upon a pole : and it shall come to pass that every
one that is bitten, when he looketh upon it, shall live.' Thus
did Moses ' lift up the serpent in the wilderness ;' and thus are
we taught a great spiritual lesson. For as God was pleased to
punish the people by serpents, for the sins typified by the
serpent, so also did He make the serpent the means of restora-
tion. By the lifting up of the serpent there was meant the
elevation of the sensuous principle to that natural position
which it had forfeited by its subjugation of the spiritual prin-
ciple, the restoration of the sensuous principle to that role in
human character which was allotted to it by nature, and without
which perfection could not be attained ; the useful servant, the
quiet pulse, which maintains the faculties in a healthful equili-
brium, and in a calm and well-balanced attitude of heavenly
progress.

The previous verse of this chapter of St. John is not without
its bearing upon this subject. ' x\nd no man,' says our Lord to
Nicodemus, ' hath ascended up to heaven, but He that came
down from heaven, even the Son of man, which is in heaven.'
From which we can understand that man cannot raise himself.
No combination of earthly perfections can carry a man to the

'As Moses lifted up the Serpent in the Wilderness' 59

sphere of heavenly influences. No man, as such, can raise
himself to heaven, unless he be aided by that which came
down from heaven. And unless a man be instructed by the
Spirit of Truth, he can never raise himself above the sphere of
earth ; and no elevation of his principles or faculties can raise
him above the plane of the natural. But that which comes
from heaven is Divine Truth ; and in all parts of the New
Testament our Lord speaks of Himself as the Son of Man, in
relation to Divine Truth, It is therefore by the agency of the
Son of Man alone that man can ascend to heaven ; and hence,
' as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must
the Son of Man be lifted up ; that whosoever beUeveth in Him
should not perish, but have everlasting life.'

The humanity of Christ was naturally inferior to His divinity ;
and, in assuming humanity, our Lord took with it the weak-
nesses and imperfections of the human body. If it had been
possible that the humanity of Christ could have subjected His
divinity, then would have been seen on a vast scale the spec-
tacle which man presents upon a smaller scale when his sensuous
principle overrules and brings into subjection his rational prin-
ciple. But of course such a thing was impossible, and our
Lord came to give us an example which we might follow. He
came to show how the weakness of humanity could be over-
come by the victory over temptation and the conquest in times
of trial ; and He so exalted His humanity as to render it
glorious, and ultimately to make it fit to be conjoined with His
divinity in one indissoluble essence. He was lifted up upon
the cross as the serpent of brass was lifted up in the wilderness,
and all who looked to Him should be saved. 'And I,' He
says, ' if I be lifted up, will draw all men unto Me.' And all
men who saw in Him their pattern and example, and would
look to Him as such, and endeavour to the best of their ability
to imitate Him, would thus bring themselves within the sphere
of His power to save. And as Christ did not abolish the
human in Him, as He progressed in His advancement to
spiritual glorification, so we are not called to abolish in our-

6o Neiu Studies in Christian Theology.

selves that principle which is represented by the serpent. As
long as it is kept in its proper subordination, it is an integral
portion of the perfect man ; and it is only when it is exalted
beyond its true position that it becomes injurious and destruc-
tive. The natural, however, should ever exist in its place and
proportion, and (Matt. x. i6) our Lord recognises the just
balance which should be maintained, when He says to the
disciples whom He is sending forth into the world to preach
and to teach, ' Behold, I send you forth as lambs among wolves.
Be ye therefore wise as serpents, and harmless as doves.'

But the corollary which we may draw from the analogy of the
brazen serpent with the lifting up of the Son of Man, is found
in the words which our Lord further addressed to Nicodemus
upon this memorable occasion : ' For God so loved the world,
that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth
in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.' When the
brazen serpent, which was the type of the uplifted Saviour, was
lifted up in the wilderness, all they who directed their eyes
towards it were freed from the plague which attacked them, and
recovered their natural life ; but everyone who looks toward
the antitype with faith in His power to save him, is freed from
that second death to which we have all become subject. For
He who appointed the brazen serpent for the succour of the
repentant Israelites, who, by faith, made use of the appointed
means, has in these days given His only begotten Son for the
redemption of all who choose to accept His offered salvation.
For as our Lord, calling Himself the Son of Man, was the
power of Divine Truth, or the Word which was made flesh and
dwelt among us — that Divine Truth which came out of heaven
and which alone could raise us to heaven — so the Divine Love
was present in Him as the Son of God, which originated the
scheme of that redemption which consisted in giving Himself
a ransom for our sins, in coming Himself in the flesh, whereby
He could at once subjugate the infernal powers, constitute
Himself our example and our guide, elevate our humanity by
glorifying His own, and in His own person estabUsh a rap-

'As Moses lifted np the Serpent in the Wilderness' 6i

prochement between God and man, bringing God nearer to man,
and man nearer to God, and becoming a new and living Way,
a Mediator between God and man. Thus a God of love, out
of that Divine love, gave Himself, the Son of God, to be our
Redeemer, raising us to heaven by the medium of Divine
Truth, the Word made flesh, which was the Son of Man ; lifted
up on the cross (as an instrument of His glorification), and
drawing all men towards Him out of the death-like bondage of
sin, to the everlasting life of righteousness and true holiness.
And this everlasting life He offers to all, freely, and without
exception, upon simple conditions which all may fulfil. ' If
thou wilt enter into life, keep the commandments.' ' For the
wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life.'

Note. — Lest any confusion should arise concerning the views of the
Author as to the early history of Man, it seems desirable slightly to amplify
the allusions to it made in the first Lecture. Taking the earliest chapters
of Genesis as descriptive of the condition of Man from his original introduc-
tion upon earth, onwards, the first chapter would appear to refer to a
primitive rudeness, which required mental and spiritual moulding and
organization, by stages correspondent to the formation of the physical
world ; until the condition of innocence was finally effected, with which
the second chapter opens. This primitive stage of our race, when the
spiritual life and consciousness were 'without form and void,' would
evidently correspond, in evolution, to the unconscious stage of Infancy,
immediately leading into the age of innocent Childhood.

LECTURE VIII.

THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT.

I. '■Blessed are the Meek.'

' 'Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.' — MATT. v. 5.

When our Lord opened His mouth to utter those wonderful
sayings, which made the Sermon on the Mount so remarkable,
He began by announcing blessings on those who were in various
states of heavenly-mindedness. And it may indeed be said,
that as He ended His career on earth by exclaiming, ' Father,
forgive them, for they know not what they do,' He also com-
menced that career by blessing all those who would listen to
His teaching and consent to be guided by His counsels.
These Beatitudes, as they have been called, embrace every
class of Christian men, and are a source of solace and consola-
tion to all whom they embrace, whether they be suffering or
rejoicing, whether they be fortunate or unfortunate, in a worldly
point of view ; the poor in spirit — the mourners — the meek — the
hungry and the thirsty after righteousness — the merciful — the
pure in heart — the peacemakers — the persecuted for righteous-
ness' sake — all these are bid be of good cheer; for He that
came to bind up the wounds, and to heal the broken-hearted —
He that will give to every man according to His work — even
He hath declared them blessed.

Much, indeed, has been written upon the subject of these
Beatitudes, which have ever been a grateful theme, inasmuch
as there is no one who takes an interest in such subjects but
probably will come under one or another category of those upon

'Blessed are the Meek: 63

whom the blessings are to fall ; and much comforting doctrine
has been extracted from the simple words of our Lord, who
contented Himself with saying ' Blessed.' So that it may be
doubted whether the unlearned Christian, unskilled in com-
mentaries, may not yet have gathered to himself as much con-
solation by taking to his heart the unvarnished words of our
Lord, as he could do from volumes of annotation and of ampli-
fication ? For what can be imagined to go more directly to the
hearts of the mourner or the persecuted — no less than to the
merciful and the pure in heart — than the welcome and soul-
filling salutation, ' Blessed are ye ' ?

But while the simple words are the best for those who can
take them, it does not follow that the Beatitudes are all of
equal simplicity, or all equally commend themselves to the
minds of simple folk. There is, at least, one of them which we
think may be liable, if construed with too literal an interpreta-
tion, to be doubted and misjudged. None can fail to recognise
and to appreciate the value of the words, ' Blessed are they that
mourn, for they shall be comforted ;' but it may not be so with
the succeeding verse, * Blessed are the meek, for they shall
inherit the earth.' For here we have the case of words which,
in their first and most literal meaning, carry on their surface a
possible interpretation, which is not so evidently conformable
with the strict teachings of the Gospel. For what quality is
implied by the term 'meek'? and what is it to 'inherit the earth'?
* Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of
heaven ;' but ' Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the
earth.'

The term ' meek ' is by no means an uncommon one in
Scripture ; and the virtue it implies is one which is recognised
in the sacred writings as of a high quality, and worthy of imita-
tion and acquirement. In our modern phraseology, perhaps,
meekness is not usually applied in a manner to inspire respect ;
it implies, rather, a deficiency of robustness of character, of that
firmness and strength of mind which are deemed necessary to
hold one's position amongst one's fellow-men, or to carry

64 Neiv Studies in Cliristian Theology.

through the world that independence which is considered an
essential element of success in life. But this is, after all, an
artificial application, suited for worldly purposes, and wanting in
the real and primary meaning of the word. And when we bear
in mind that it is stated as a characteristic of the great leader
and lawgiver of the Jews, we must look for some other explana-
tion. For we read (Numb. xii. 3), ' Now the man Moses was
very meek, above all the men which were upon the face of the
earth ;' yet did his meekness not disqualify him from standing
before the great Pharaoh, from reproving the most powerful
potentate of the world, from denouncing God's judgments upon
him and his people, and from carrying away the armies of Israel
from their bondage, despite the resistance of this hardened and
self-willed sovereign. Nor did the meekness of Moses militate
against his capable conduct of the chosen people of God
through all the difficulties and all the vicissitudes of their desert-
wanderings, when a firm hand and a steadfast will were more
than ever requisite, and where the unrivalled fitness and power
of the great leader stand conspicuous as a marvel and a wonder
to this day.

But we have yet another example of meekness, which should
help us to understand what is intended to be expressed by that
term. It is our blessed Saviour Himself, who gives Himself
that character, and who Himself adorns and elevates that quality.
' Take My yoke upon you, and learn of Me,' saith He ; * for I
am meek and lowly in heart, and ye shall find rest unto your
souls.' He is our teacher and our great example ; and if He is
meek, then must we also be of like quality. And the Apostle
(in 2 Cor. x. i) makes reference to this characteristic of the
Lord when he says, ' Now I, Paul, beseech you by the meek-
ness and gentleness of Christ.' And as such was he announced
by the prophets of old, as by Zechariah (ix. 9), quoted by St.
Matthew, ' Tell ye the daughter of Zion, Behold the King
Cometh unto thee, meek, and sitting upon an ass, and a colt,
the foal of an ass' (Matt. xxi. 5). But, indeed, we may rest
assured that this quality of meekness is one which we should

* Blessed are the Meek.' 65

all seek to acquire. It is one of the fruits of the Spirit against
which there is no law. For the fruits of the Spirit are these —
love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meek-
ness, temperance ; and these fruits are such as can only be borne
by those who have crucified the flesh with the affections and
lusts.

From these examples it follows that the meek are those lowly-
minded who acquire a habit of mind, foreign to their original
natures, such as renders them followers of Christ and inheritors
of His kingdom. For it is to be observed that meekness has
no affinity with weakness, as according to a worldly interpreta-
tion it might be supposed to have. Meekness is a form of
charity, and, indeed, the highest form. It is the charity which
thinketh no evil, the charity which suffereth long and is kind,
the charity which seeketh not her own, and is not easily pro-
voked. The meek are those who regulate their minds in con-
formity with the dictates of the Gospel ; who are able, not only
to look with equanimity upon the inconsistencies of those
among whom they dwell, but also can patiently suffer all that
may happen to themselves from the vagaries or the unregulated
passions of others not so well disciplined as themselves. For,
being principled in charity, they are strong in a principle which
brings courage and endurance. Fulfilling the law of the Spirit,
they can bear to see others possess what is denied to them-
selves, and can even suffer to be persecuted for righteousness'
sake without strife and without resentment. They are never
violent under any provocation, they are never passionate under
the sway of revengeful feelings ; they can put up with taunts,
unjust accusations, or causeless reproaches, without reviling,
strong in their grounded belief that charity is incapable of retort,
long-suffering, generous. Even as Moses exhibited this virtue
when Miriam and Aaron spoke against him, and rose in sedi-
tion against him, saying, * Hath the Lord indeed spoken only
by Moses ? hath he not also spoken by us ?' for then it is that
the sacred historian appositely remarks, ' Now the man Moses
was very meek ' — a type, indeed, of Christ, ' who, when He was

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66 New Studies in Christian Theology.

reviled, reviled not again ; when He suffered, threatened not,
but committed Himself to Himthatjudgeth righteously ' (i Peter
ii. 23). Herein truly was the meekness of Christ exhibited —
this was the very incarnation of true charity — the example for
those who, following Him, He declared to be ' Blessed.'

But all this is not the dictate of our original nature in which
we were born. The natural man is contentious and strife-loving ;
he is revengeful, and insistent on his rights ; he tardily admits
the rights of others, but will persistently tight for his own ; he is
violent, passionate, envious, wrathful. And to cast aside these
natural inborn qualities, and to substitute in their place some-
thing quite different and obnoxious to them — though, per-
adventure, it be the substitution of good for evil — is a work
which no man can do for himself ; but if he is willing to do it,
and seek aid from above, he is none the less praiseworthy, and
his strength is none the less real. It is a fight which man has
to fight with the powers of darkness ; a struggle with forces
unseen, in which sword and spear are of no avail, and in which
the bravest and most dashing warrior may find himself bested,
and may lose heart and courage, and turn his back to the
enemy and fly.

But he who conquers will have his reward ; and not a few
passages in the Holy Scriptures refer to the delight which the
Lord takes in the meekness of His followers. The Psalmist
more especially dwells repeatedly upon this. 'The meek shall
eat and be satisfied ' (Psa. xxii. 26) : * they shall praise the Lord
that seek Him ' — the latter clause being, as it were, a com-
mentary on the former. ' The meek will He guide in judgment :
and the meek will He teach His way' (xxv. 9). For what is a
surer aid to judgment than charity? or a surer guide in the
path of life than love ? * The Lord lifteth up the meek : He
casteth the wicked down to the ground ' (cxlvii. 6) ; and, as the
crown of these promises, it is said in Psa. cxlix. 4, ' The Lord
taketh pleasure in His people ; He will beautify the meek with
salvation.'

For to whom is the Gospel preached if not unto the meek ?

' Blessed are the Meek! 67

As saith 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, to
proclaim Uberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison
to them that are bound ' (Isa. Ixi. i). And the coming of the
Lord, which should make the deaf to hear, and the eyes of the
blind to see out of obscurity, was also to result in that ' the
meek should increase their joy in the Lord, and the poor among
men should rejoice in the Holy One of Israel ' (Isa. xxix. 18, 19).

For this is ' that hidden man of the heart, even the ornament
of a meek and quiet spirit, which, in the sight of God, is of
great price ' (i Peter iii, 4). ' In patience possess ye your souls,'
admonished our Lord, when speaking of the destruction of the
earthly temple and of the last day. 'There shall not an hair
of your head perish ;' wherefore, then, should the spirit be un-
quiet, even though the ungodly flourish, and though, to all
appearance, worldly affairs should become lowering and dark ?
' Walk worthy of the vocation wherewith ye are called, with all
lowliness and meekness, with long-suffering, forbearing one
another in love ; endeavouring to keep the unity of the Spirit
in the bond of peace' (Eph. iv. 1-3). Here, indeed, is the
morale of meekness. It is, indeed, a phase, and an exalted one,
of that love to the neighbour which is the fulfilling of the law.
' Put on, therefore, as the elect of God, holy and beloved,
bowels of mercies, kindness, humbleness of mind, meekness,
long-suffering; forbearing one another, ifany man have a quarrel
against any : even as Christ forgave you, so also do ye
(Col. iii. 12, 13). *Be gentle to all men, apt to teach, patient,
in meekness instructing those that oppose themselves ' (2 Tim.
ii. 25); ' speaking evil of no man, be gentle, showing all meek-
ness unto all men ' (Titus iii. 2).

And not only so — not only must our dealings with our
fellow-men be characterized by this absence of self-assertion ;
but even when we may consider ourselves charged, in the light
of teachers, with superior wisdom wherewith to benefit our
brethren, we are to do it in the same spirit. We are not only

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68 Neiv Studies in Christian Theology.

to ' receive with meekness the engrafted word, which is able to
save our souls' (James i. 21), but also to 'sanctify the Lord
God in your hearts : and be ready always to give an answer to
every man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in
you with meekness and fear, having a good conscience '
(i Peter iii. 15).

Such are the meek, of whom it is said, ' They shall inherit
the earth.' But it has been observed that the Beatitudes follow
one another in an ascending order, as it were — that is, in an
order which signifies the progressive advance in the attainments
of goodness and truth. Again, as the Beatitudes are nine in
number, so also are they divided into tJiree threes ; each series
in an ascending scale. It follows, therefore, that whereas the
one in question is the third of the series, it is also the highest
of the three. ' Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the
kingdom of heaven,' is the first ; the poor in spirit being those
who, knowing their own destitution, acknowledge that all they
possess of goodness is not from themselves, but from above ;
and who, therefore, awakened to this knowledge, have, for the
first time, the internal man awakened, and opened, as it were,
in them — thus figuring the birth of the kingdom of heaven
within them. This is the first step in the regenerate life. This
it is, without which no man can begin his heavenly race, or
can make any start from the sphere of earth, into which he is
naturally born. So, similarly, ' Blessed are the meek ' — those,
that is, who are conscious of their deficiency — who, having the
internal man opened for the reception of truth, desire to live
according to its dictates, and in that charity which is the out-
come and embodiment of truth ; ' for they shall inherit the
earth ' — that is, they shall come into the possession of all the
graces of the regenerate external man.

For the earth here does not signify, as most persons would
cursorily suppose, the temporal blessings proper to this world, or
the good things which may arise from the possession of temporal
benefits ; it has a far higher meaning. For the eaj-th refers in
Scripture to man's external condition, by means of which he is

' Blessed are the Meek' 6g

related to the natural world, just as the heaven signifies always
that internal constitution which connects him with a spiritual
world, and which is said to be within man. ' O earth, earth,
earth,' cried the Prophet Jeremiah (xxii. 29), 'hear the word of
the Lord.' And again, speaking of the desolated Jewish Church
the same prophet exclaims, ' I beheld the earth, and lo, it was
without form and void ; and the heavens, and they had no
light.' The earth thus spoken of in Scripture does not mean
this lower world, but the external man, which is naturally evil,
and which can only be regenerated by the process of opening
the internal man. The process of regeneration, that is, must
begin from within ; the interiors of the soul must be first opened
— awakened, by the influences of the Holy Spirit, producing
repentance, which repentance is followed by newness of life ;
that is, by so adapting the habits of the external man to the
new requirements of the soul, evil is forsaken and good is
followed. It is by this means alone that a man is converted ;
and it is thus that those who have become principled in good-
ness and in truth, who live the life of charity enjoined every-
where in the Scripture, having first established the kingdom of
heaven in their hearts, progress by conforming their outward
life with their inward convictions, and thus become truly
regenerate recipients of the kingdom of heaven and inheritors
of the earth.

Thus this apparent reversal of the order of things is shown
to be only an appearance, and the language of Scripture is vindi-
cated. Thus also is it shown that the reading of the Word,
so as to comprehend its true scope and meaning, is not arbitrary
but consistent ; and that apparent solecisms are the result of
imperfect knowledge on our own part, and of an incorrect
appreciation of the plan of Scriptural composition. In Psalm
xxxvii. 1 1 we have precisely the same expression used, for it is
there written, * But the meek shall inherit the earth, and shall
delight themselves in the abundance of peace.' And thus New
and Old Testaments alike agree in the blessing which shall
reward the lowly of heart, the self-denying, uncomplaining, all-

70 Neil' Studies in Christian Theology.

forgiving, long-suffering, practisers of the truest code of charity
and brotherly love.

Thus it will be seen that this verse refers to that continual
and oft-repeated topic with which the Scriptures may be said
almost exclusively to deal, viz. the ' Regeneration of Man ;' for
that is the burden of every lesson, of every admonition ; as it is,
indeed, the most needed, the most pressing want of man's
nature. Born to hereditary evil, he must renounce it ; having
by nature lost the impress of goodness and truth, he must regain
it ; and the change thus implied is the great work which is laid
upon every man, who must be born again, who must be first
renewed inwardly in heart, and secondly must put into practice
the principles he has thus learned outwardly, in this life. Thus,
and thus only, can he find a place among those meek who shall
inherit the earth — of whom the Prophet Zephaniah exclaims
(ii. 3), ' Seek ye the Lord, all ye meek of the earth, which have
wrought His judgment ; seek righteousness, seek meekness : it
may be ye shall be hid in the day of the Lord's anger.'

LECTURE IX.

THE SERIMON ON THE MOUNT {continued).

2. The Lord's Prayer.

' Give us this day our daily bread.' — Matt. vi. ii.

From childhood upward we have all been taught to say what
is commonly called ' The Lord's Prayer ;' and from childhood
upward we are all familiar with the words of that petition. We
are familiar, indeed with the words; but how many of us, whether
as children or as grown persons, can be said to be familiar with
the meaning of the words we so commonly use ? When is it
that, emerging from childhood to maturity, we first begin to
comprehend the spirit of the beautiful prayer which our Lord
Himself taught us ? Do we ever, many of us, all our lives
through, appreciate the spirit of that prayer of prayers — that
one petition, which embraces all we need— that comprehensive
aspiration which supersedes the long addresses, supplications,
and conditional demands which are too often offered to the
Deity in the name of prayer?

' When thou prayest,' said our Lord, ' make not long repeti-
tions, as the heathen do ; for they think that they shall be heard
for their much speaking. After this manner therefore pray ye :'
and the manner thus indicated by Him, who was Himself both
the hearer and answerer of prayer, was at once a model of
briefness and simplicity, and at the same time comprehensive
and all-embracing. Like all the utterances of the Divine, it
addresses itself alike to the simple and to the wise — to the
learned and to the unlearned. The simple can see in it the

yi Neiv Studies in Christian Theology.

pure and heartfelt phrases which bear, even in their natural
meanings, all those yearnings which their souls so powerfully,
so passionately long to offer to their God ; the wise and the
learned see, beyond that, a deep internal meaning, which teaches
them that far within are deep and sacred aspirations which are
adapted to the highest spiritual desires and needs of their
instructed and enlightened souls ; and to those who know how
to use it aright, the Lord's Prayer becomes the one appeal — the
unique petition, which comprehends in its brief sentences all
that man needs for time or for eternity ; the loving request to a
Father for the necessities of earthly life ; the passionate entreaty
to a God for deliverance from the dangers which beset the
path of spiritual existence and the advance to the heavenly
state.

We may shut to the door, and commune with our own hearts
and be still ; we may, like Daniel, fall on our knees three times
a day, or like David, seven times a day we may praise the
Lord ; we may offer up a special supplication in time of sore
need, or we may habitually lay our daily life and all its changes
and chances before God, and seek His guidance in all our
affairs ; but if we follow the advice of the Apostle Peter
(i Peter v. 7) in 'casting all your care upon the Lord, for He
careth for you,' then have we need for no recourse to any
other prayer than that of our blessed Lord, for in it is included
everything we require, both temporal and spiritual. At once a
prayer and a thanksgiving, it is also an ascription of praise and
glory to Him whom we address; and, moreover, it contains, to
the full, that element too often left out in our own spontaneous
and unaided petitions, viz., resignation to the Divine will, a
firm trust in the Divine power and guidance, a self-negation
which asserts no obstinate adherence to our own unaided judg-
ment, makes no demand for doubtful advantages unqualified by
any dependence upon omniscient love and Divine tenderness.
This is the advantage in chief which the Lord's Prayer possesses
over all others ; for who is there who, in his prayers, does not
think too much of his own desires ? or who is willing to be

The Lord's Prayer. 73

guided solely by the wisdom of the Almighty, as to how much
that he asks it is fitting that he should receive ? How many,
like Christ, qualify their prayers with ' If it be possible ; never-
theless, not as I will, but as Thou wilt' This is the crucial
test of sincerity ; this is also, doubtless, the standard by which
we ought to measure the probability of a reply. ' Ye ask and
receive not, because ye ask amiss.' For everyone asks amiss
when he asks for unconditional gifts, or for what he esteems to
be blessings, only from his own point of view. For it is God
alone who knows what will bring blessing and what curse ; and
the man who seeks for blessings of his own choosing, and
repines because he does not receive them, is like a child
petulantly crying for some unattainable impossibility, and angry
because he does not obtain it. These ask amiss, and these, in
God's mercy, do not obtain their petitions.

But the Lord's Prayer is free from any such objections. We
may safely make use of it without any fear of incurring the
blame or the rebuff which necessarily follows many of our own
unconsidered requests. It contains all that we need ; and if it
be imagined that more special petitions for the necessities of
the moment are desirable, and are not to be found in the Lord's
Prayer, the answer is plain, ' Seek ye first the kingdom of God
and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto
you. For your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of
all these things.'

The whole value of prayer, indeed, is a question which is
comprehended in these brief remarks. Prayer is not intended
as a reminder to God that such and such benefits and blessings
are at a particular juncture desirable to the petitioners. Prayer
is not that man may choose his own lot, his own advantages —
his own will, in a word ; but Prayer is a preparation of the heart.
Its object is to place the soul in such a condition or state in
relation to Divine things, that a man may be fit to receive all
the good things which God is ever ready and willing to give to
all who call upon Him in truth. God ever waits to be gracious
— waits, that is, until the blessings He wishes to bestow can be

74 Neio Studies in Christian Theology.

received, and no longer \ but without a receptive mind in a
man, God waits in vain. Prayer produces receptivity, and
hence its use : and the moment God perceives the soul to be
so prepared as to be capable of taking in His heavenly gifts,
that moment does He gladly impart them. There is no tardi-
ness with Him ; the tardiness is all on man's side. He may
clamour for what it is impossible that he can receive, but he
clamours in vain, like a child who cries for the moon ; and it
would be equally reasonable for a child to blame its parents for
not yielding to so unreasonable a request, as for a man to
charge God with foolishness because he did not receive what it
was folly to ask. God desires that man should receive the
benefit of His best and highest gifts to their fullest and utter-
most extent. It depends entirely upon man whether he will
receive them ; whether he will so adapt himself to spiritual
things as to be capable of receiving to the full all spiritual
blessings.

The Lord's Prayer is brief — so brief, indeed, that were it a
petition of our own framing, we should consider that we had
erred on the side of coldness and carelessness ; and rightly so,
for any prayer of our own, in as few words, would be full of
omissions and imperfections. But it is at once the merit and
the marvel of this divinely-taught address to our Father, that it
contains all that is necessary ; that it is, in its short space of
half a dozen lines, an epitome of all the wants, spiritual and
temporal, which can occur to mankind. And not only this,
but while it asks for all that is good, it avoids the error of
asking aught amiss ; nothing is contained in it which it is not
fit that we should request of God. And thus the great pitfall of
our own prayers is entirely avoided ; and leaving ourselves in
God's hands, we address ourselves to Him in terms which we
know He cannot fail to approve. It is not intended in so
brief a space to attempt a full analysis of this beautiful and
wonderful collection of suppHcations ; but it is necessary just
to glance at the character of those words we so constantly use,
and which many use daily all their lives long without under-

The Lord's Prayer. 75

standing their real meaning, without perceiving their true
drift.

' Give us this day our daily bread.' But it is night, per-
haps, and we need no more this day our daily bread. But
our Lord has said, ' Man shall not live by bread alone, but by
every word which proceedeth out of the mouth of God ;' and
while our daily bread is necessary at stated intervals to sup-
port the strength of our bodies, so the spiritual food which
this bread implies is a constant necessity, not confined, like
the want of daily bread, to the waking hours. * AVith my soul
have I desired thee in the night,' says the Prophet Isaiah
(xxvi. 9). And the Psalmist often expresses the same idea :
' Thou hast visited me in the night ' (xvii. 3) ; ' I cry in the
night season, and am not silent' (xxii. 2); 'The Lord will
command His lovingkindness in the daytime, and in the
night His song shall be with me ' (xlii, 8) ; 'I will call to
remembrance my song in the night ' (Ixxvii. 6), etc. Such
passages might be multiplied, but it is unnecessary to illustrate
further the fact that while our daily bread is necessary in a
literal sense, in a spiritual manner the term implies all that is
proper for the nourishment of the soul — all spiritual gifts, all
good thoughts, all such subjects of spiritual contemplation as
may keep the soul alive to its relations with God and heaven,
and may nourish it in goodness and truth, in love and in
wisdom.

But in reality the term ' daily bread,' even in its outward
signification, is not to be taken in that literal sense which we
are brought up to perceive in it. The expression is indeed a
very remarkable one, and one which in the original does not
convey with any strictness the meaning which has been at-
tached to it. The word used by the Evangelists, both by St.
Matthew and by St. Luke, is a very peculiar one — indeed quite
peculiar to themselves — for scr/o-^ff/og is found nowhere else but
in these two passages. It is therefore a word difficult to
translate, so as to give its true and subtle meaning, which is
indeed that which is ' sufficient unto the day ' — that is, as nearly

"J 6 New Studies in Christian Theology.

as it can be converted into English phraseology. Our daily
bread, therefore, is the nearest equivalent which the translators
could use, without however, entirely conveying all it signified.

But whatever may be its exact meaning to the scholar, the
simple Christian only knows that he prays for the continuance
of mercies which he humbly recognises as coming daily and
hourly from God above. Daily bread — the continual supply
of temporal needs, such as in this life, at least, are as essential
to his well-being as the very air he breathes. Here we have
material bodies which can only be supported by food and
drink — not luxurious living and rich beverages, but the staff
and fount of life. These we have given us daily ; and how
many among us are there who have ever felt what it would
mean if these were to fail ? Surrounded with abundance, we
look upon famine as an unreal ghost — a spectre which cannot
approach us; and thus we are apt too lightly to regard and
value mercies which come, as it were, spontaneously, and
without our own care — almost without being asked for.

And yet these simple supplies of food and drink are no less
gifts from God than any darling wish which may appear to be
gratified in answer to our prayers. For such we do right to
be thankful, and for such it is just that we should acknowledge
God as the Author and Giver ; and this we do whenever we
say from our heart, ' Give us this day our daily bread.' And
this acknowledgment keeps our hearts open to the reception,
not only of the material bread, but of all those great and spiritual
gifts which bread represents. For while bread is the staff of
this lower life of the body, there is a bread no less necessary
for the higher life of the soul ; and our Lord Himself has said,
* I am that Bread of Life. The Bread of God is He which
Cometh down from heaven, and giveth life unto the world. I
am the Bread of Life. He that cometh to Me shall never
hunger, and he that believeth on ]\Ie shall never thirst ' (John vi.
2,Z, 35). Well might the disciples say to Him, * Lord, evermore
give us this bread ;' and this we practically exclaim daily in the
Lord's Prayer, when we say, ' Give us this day our daily bread.'

TJie Lord's Prayer. yj

For all goodness and all truth are progressive. We cannot
grow up at once from childhood to maturity, but we must eat
daily bread sufficient for the day, and in process of time our
bodies gain strength, and vigour, and fulness of proportions.
And so with the Bread of Life. We cannot assimilate more
than each day's share, nor can our souls suddenly step into
that completeness of development which can only be arrived
at by the daily increment of goodness and truth which we
derive from the spiritual food wherewith He regales us. We
are built up, as it were, edified by slow progressive instalments
of our daily spiritual bread, ' here a little and there a little/
until we come ' unto a perfect man, unto the measure of the
stature of the fulness of Christ ' (Eph. iv. 13).

The Lord's Prayer is such a wonderful production, combining
in its few short phrases every expression and petition suitable for
angels or for men, that we could not misplace any passage without
marring the whole ; still less could any portion of it be omitted
without a loss of unity and a destruction of the completeness
of its scope, as well as of the subversion of its Divine Order.
The first portion has relation to the Lord, and to heaven — it is
aspiring, angelic — and can only be truly advanced by the
regenerate man, who can look above this world and find his
truest delight in doing the will of God. Such we may
imagine to be the genius of the angels ; and such petitions or
ascriptions as form the first part of the prayer we may reason-
ably suppose are fitted for the devotions of angelic companies,
no less than for the supplications of the sanctified yet remaining
uponearth.

But the latter portion of this prayer descends from heaven
to earth — and even yet lower. Temptation and evil are things of
hell, and from these we pray for defence and deliverance ; and
thus we find it is adapted to every possible class of persons,,
for every possible grade of the regenerate condition, to every
possible state of the human soul. But between those petitions
which relate to heaven and those which have reference to
hell, we find inserted the intermediate step of the world ; and

78 New Studies in Christian Theology.

when we ask for a renewal of our daily bread, we have passed
from the consideration of the highest and best, and are pre-
paring for the contemplation of the lowest and worst ; for in
all these states may the soul be placed, and its needs may
embrace any one of the varying class of petitions of which
we have here so vast a range. From the contemplation of
good to the shunning of evil, the prayer gradually descends,
each phrase being more adapted than the other for the indi-
vidual soul that makes use of these words of Divine wisdom ;
and the turning-point from the one to the other is the petition,
' Give us this day our daily bread.'*

Heaven and the things of the soul belong to the internal
man ; evil and temptation are more properly stages of the
external man in its progress to regeneration. But between the
two, and having the character of both, is the rational man —
that faculty which is ever desirous of assimilating good and
truth, in proportion as it approaches the spirit of the internal
man ; or, perhaps, to draw its wisdom from less pure and
perfect sources, in proportion as it approximates the external
or lower man.

But this conscious faculty is in us all ; this power of per-
ception of knowledge or choosing good from evil, of drawing
to ourselves, if we so will, all that is good and true — all that is
wise and righteous. Our natural appetites may be pampered
with rich living which may produce disease, by overworking
the powers given to our bodies for its digestion and assimilation ;
or they may be in that healthful state as to choose the whole-
some bread and its kindred aliments to the strengthening and
knitting of our bodily frames. So, also, our soul may choose
to be nourished either with those forbidden delicacies of sin
which corrupt and weaken its tone, and unfit it for communion

* It is worthy of note, as exhibiting still further the deep and transcendent
spirituality of the Lord's Prayer, that a parallelism has been remarked
between it and the Decalogue ; more apparent in some portions than in
others, but traceable throughout. 'Our Father' corresponding to the first
commandment ; ' which art in Heaven,' to the second : ' Hallowed be Thy
name,' to the third, etc.

TJie Lord's Prayer. 79

with what is best and holiest ; or it may rather prefer that
Bread of Life (which is Christ) — 'that true bread of God,
which Cometh down from heaven, and giveth life unto the
world' (John vi. 33).

And when we say 'Give us this day our daily bread,' we should
at least remember, that our Heavenly Father knovveth that we
have need of all these things, and that all these things shall be
added unto us if we will do His will ; and that this should be
our meat and drink.

Let us then, in making this petition, remember these truths ;
let us labour not for the meat that perisheth, but for that meat
which endureth unto everlasting life, which the Son of Man
shall give unto us. Let us ever bear in mind the promises of
Him who said, ' I am the Bread of Life,' whenever in our
supplications we say, ' Give us this day our daily bread.'

LECTURE X.

THE SERINION ON THE MOUNT {continued).

3. ' When ye Fast^ be not as Hypocrites.^

' Moreover when ye fast, be not, as the hypocrites, of a sad countenance :
for they disfigure their faces, that they may appear unto men to fast. Verily
I say unto you, They have their reward. But thou, Avhen thou fastest, anoint
thine head, and wash thy face ; that thou appear not unto men to fast, but
unto thy Father whicli is in secret : and thy Father, which seeth in secret,
shall reward thee openly.' — Matt. vi. 16- iS.

The Church of England, following in their ritual the incidents
of the life of our Lord, set apart the Lenten season as a time
of fasting, in remembrance of the time when our Lord, entering
upon His active life upon earth, underwent those great S2:)iritual
temptations of which the wilderness of Judaea was the terrible
scene. During a space of forty days and forty nights we are
told that He fasted^voluntarily abstained from the ordinary
nourishments required by the body — being led to this absten-
tion, not by any wish to perform a commendable act of self-
denial, not probably even with the intention of mortifying the
flesh, but because He was passing through a great and re-
markable phase of temptation and trial, during which the
mental state was such that corporeal conditions were forgotten ;
the spiritual exercise and wrestlings were so great that the
body forgot its wonted requirements, nor demanded its wonted
sustenance until the fight was over, until the warfare with evil
influences was accomplished, until the victory over Satan was
won. And then the soul, like an overstrung bow, was loosed ;
and the neglected body, no longer subdued by the over-

' When yc Fast, be Jiot as the Hypocrites. 8i

mastering spirit, asserted itself; and He who, for forty days and
forty nights, had existed in an agony of mental strife, which
had stifled and subdued the calls of His earthly nature — He
was afterwards an /lutigered.

Such, in brief, was the great fast of our Lord — a fast, as to
duration, imitated by some of Plis enthusiastic followers in
after ages ; but which, yet, in its nature and consequences, is
necessarily unique. For although He has shown us an example
that we should follow in His steps, it is evident that we can
only do so afar off, and not act as He did in all things, since
He was an infinite God, although temporarily trammelled with
the body of humanity, while we are but finite creatures, to
whom the frail human body is but the natural tenement of our
weak and erring souls.

Still, as Christ has here set the example of fasting, Christians
in all ages have felt that their duty lay also in fasting, under
peculiar circumstances or conditions, or at certain times and
seasons. And although in the Reformed Church little stress
is laid upon such fasts, in other sections of Christendom they
have grown to be a great and important item of the eccle-
siastical machinery. In this respect, they have indeed lost
favour v.'ith Protestants, on account of the abuses to which
they have become subject ; for all good things are liable to
such abuses, when their proper end is forgotten, and when
they become the engine for the aggrandisement either of self
or of any self-constituted body which seeks an illegitimate
importance at the expense of others.

But it must always be borne in mind that fasts were of very
ancient institution, and were well known among the Jews in
long-past ages. David fasted when his child lay sick, and
would not eat bread, though the elders of his house would
persuade him thereto; and in explanation of his change of
conduct after the child was dead, he said, 'While the child
was yet alive, I fasted and wept ; for I said, Who can tell
whether God will be gracious to me, that the child may live ?'
(2 Sc •. . xii. 22) ' Sanctify ye a fast, call a solemn asssembly '

6

S2 Nezv Studies in Christian Theology.

(exclaims the Prophet Joel, i. 14), 'and cry unto the Lord,
Alas for the day ! for the day of the Lord is at hand.'

From such passages, it is evident that a fast was symbolical
of self-humiliation, with the avowed object of averting the evil
brought on as the consequence of sin ; as a sign of confession
and repentance which is exhibited with the hope that such a
self-abasement may turn aside the judgments of God, and
cause Him to remember mercy.

There are, indeed, several kinds of fasting, which indicate
as many distinct conditions of spiritual life. The fasting which
our Saviour underwent in the desert was not like that of David ;
in it there was not self-humiliation — it did not imply a sense
of sin which such humiliation could remedy by averting the
punishment due to it ; but we have seen that the fasting of our
Lord was rather a victory of spirit over matter — an exalted
condition of soul consequent upon great spiritual trials, under
which the body and its wants were unheeded, and the whole
faculties were absorbed in a struggle in which the soul was
conscious of nothing but its own paramount needs — assailed
with a sense of danger to its peace and security, which per-
mitted of no reference to the petty affairs of the world or to
the temporal necessities of the corporeal frame. In such a fast
as this the struggle may be carried on until the body perishes ;
for the flesh is but weak, howsoever willing may be the spirit.
In such a fast as this have the ecstatics of the middle ages
striven to imitate their Master, unconscious that in so doing
they have been ignorant of the infinite nature of His spiritual
temptations and of the infinite results to mankind which have
followed upon the victory which He then achieved.

Such fasts as these, then, we are not called upon to perform ;
nor are we in any way justified in so abusing our own bodily
frames as to render them unfit for the purposes of our existence,
and for the nses which our position in life renders us capable
of enacting. Rather, we can serve God best by keeping our
bodies in such a state of healthy activity as may enable us
to fulfil all those duties entrusted to us, and which make

' lV/ie?i ye Fast, be not as the Hypocrites.' 83

up the business of our daily life; and so intimately are the
faculties of the body and of the soul bound up together as
long as we are in this world, that the one cannot but suffer by
any derangement in the machinery of the other. Hence a
mens sana in co?'pore sano is no mere scholastic sophism, but
the profoundest wisdom and the highest truth.

It is for this reason probably that fasting, as a means and
sign of humiliation, are discountenanced by our Church. During
the existence of a representative Church, such as was that of
the Jews, fasting was naturally a highly symbolical and repre-
sentative act, not confined to the deprivation of necessary food,
but applied to those signs of self-abasement which usually
accompanied the fast, such as sprinkling ashes upon the head,
or covering the limbs with sackcloth and rags. These things
were but the outward signs of that sorrow for sin^ of that denial
of self, which the repentant sinner could assume most readily,
and which would be acceptable sacrifices in proportion only as
they sprang from a pure desire of confessing sins, and from a
sincere wish for forgiveness. But it is evident that such acts
could only be representative, and could only be satisfactorily
ordered in a purely representative Church. For, like all things
in themselves good, they would be liable to great abuse, inas-
much as it would soon come to be perceived that a mere outward
manifestation of sorrov^ would not be difficult, and would be
an easy penalty for evil committed — a salve to the conscience
in advance, as it were, which would excuse the commission of
sin on the ground that the remission of its consequences would
not be difficult. And this was just the effect it had upon the
worldly and unspiritual Jews, who not only made no objection
or difficulty in fasting, but by degrees came to practise it simply
as an advertisement of their own goodness, to be known and
read of all their fellow-men. These men were indeed entirely
ignorant of the true meaning and signification of fasting ; and
the difference between their method of fasting and that of
David, was precisely indicative of the declension of faith and
of spirituality which had taken place in the Jewish nation

6—2

84 Nezu Studies in ■ CJiristian Theology.

from the time of the illustrious king to that of the appearance
of our Lord upon the earth. Now indeed was the world grown
totally external and hypocritical — religion was a farce and a
sham — men no longer cared for Him who saw in secret, but
were only desirous that their fellows should think well of them,
and often doubtless deceived themselves in their insane wish to
deceive those about them ; their fasting was a mockery ; they
were like whited sepulchres, which outside were good to look
on, but within were full of dead men's bones and of all manner
of uncleanness. But our Saviour came to inaugurate a new
order of things. His kingdom was not of this world. He
taught that those who worship the Father must worship Him in
spirit and in truth, for the Father seeketh such to worship Him.-
He came to realize in men's hearts that which hitherto had
only been obscure and representative. He came to awaken
men's souls from the torpor of their natural state, to illuminate
them with the genuine spirit of Divine truth, to vitalize, to
animate, to spiritualize what had become merely formal and
dead ; and He saw, with a holy loathing, the hypocritical sad
countenance of the professional penitent — the wanton disfigure-
ment of the features of the pretended practiser of severities and
fasts ; and He denounced them as impostors and cheats, who
looked not to God, but to man, for approval, and verily they
had their reward.

It is to be feared that in these days there are not a few who
act as did the hypocrites denounced by our Lord. In countries
where fasting is made obligatory, many shifts are in use to avoid
the reality, and replace it by its shadow ; and the annals of
Romanism are unfortunately but too full of scandals arising
from the substitution of the letter for the spirit, among those
to whom either the reality is irksome, or the significance of the
institution is ill or imperfectly understood.

But in these days it would betray great folly in us if we were
to plead such ignorance. In these days we cannot but know
that forms avail nothing — that God seeth not as man seeih — for
man looketh to the outward appearance, but God seeth the

' JV/ieu ye Fast, be not as the Hypocrites! 85

heart. The New Testament is the spirit of the Old — the new
dispensation is the internal soul which vivifies the representa-
tives and symbols of the old ; and in the New Covenant fasting
is not a mere empty form, but a spiritual reality. Even the
Prophet Isaiah taught the same thing when he said (ch. Iviii),
* Is not this the fast that I have chosen ? to loose the bands
of wickedness, to undo the heavy burdens, and to let the
oppressed go free? Is it not to deal thy bread to the hungry,
and that thou bring the poor that are cast out to thy house ?
when thou seest the naked, that thou cover him ?' Here,
indeed, even in the Old Testament, are the precepts which
chiefly distinguish the New ; and in these verses are the con-
demnation of those hypocrites whose sad faces called forth the
rebuke of our Lord in Jerusalem.

To fast, indeed, is truly to mortify the flesh. In its lowest
sense it may signify that mortification of the deeds of the body
which is necessary to the resistance of temptation, but in its
higher sense it signifies that mortification of the mind, which
leads, a man to avoid taking pleasure in sin, which is his
natural bent ; for man is born to sin as the sparks fly upward.
All sin is love of self, and naturally all men love themselves
first. To resist this self-love, therefore, is a true mortification
of the soul ; to kill this self love, and to rejolace it by other and
better affections, is a true fast.

For when self-love is opposed and defeated, then there comes
in its place the love of others. AVe are not naturally anxious to
serve others more than ourselves, and, therefore, such service to
others implies denial of ourselves ; and in all efforts at un-
selfishness we are obtaining a victory over sin and Satan, and
helping to destroy the old man within us with its affections and
lusts. All the deeds of charity are outcomes of such spiritual
fast and mortification, and all the fruits of the Spirit grow out
of its beneficent influence, being all dependent upon, and in
proportion to, our success in our battling with our own evil
propensities, our love of the world, the flesh and the devil — in
a word, our love of self.

86 Nczv Studies in Christian Theology.

But even if we succeed in this mortification of ourselves, even
if it cost us a severe contest, we are enjoined that we are not to
let our struggle be too conspicuous to the world. ' Thou, when
thou fastest, anoint thine head, and wash thy face, that thou
appear not unto men to fast ;' for such struggles must be borne
with meekness. It is not enough that we carry out the precept
which teaches us to deny ourselves, but we must do it with
cheerfulness and goodwill. It must not be felt as a sore trial
imposed upon us, which could not be endured without great
loss of temper and equanimity — but rather as a diify, which we
ought to perform with, if not gladness, at least resignation to
what we are convinced to be the will of our heavenly Father,
imposed upon us in love, and with no other object than our
own very highest interests ; or, best of all, as a privilege and
a source of pleasure joyfully to bear the cross, and to feel
gladness that we are counted worthy to suffer with Him who is
our pattern and example. But the greater the struggle the
more it behoves us to keep it secret from men, and our Father
who seeth in secret, and can duly estimate the severity of the
battle, will give us the reward of our victory — that inward peace
which passeth all understanding, that satisfaction which springs
from the knowledge of the Divine approval, and that delight
which the exchange of good for the evil which was in our soul
will surely enkindle.

Such will be the result of a true spiritual fast, which consists
in seeking the good of others ; and of that mortification of the
spirit which consists in resistance of the evil influences and
temptations which surround our path through this lower life.
Thus also shall we fulfil the precept of the Apostle James (i. 27),
who says, 'Pure religion and undefiled before God and the
Father is this : to visit the fatherless and widows in their afflic-
tion, and to keep himself unspotted from the world.'

I LECTURE XL

THE SERIMON ON THE MOUNT {contillHcd).

4. ' The Law and the Prophets.^

' Therefore all things whatsoever ye would that nien should do to you,
do ye even so to them, for this is the Law and the Prophets.'

It would be well if we were to bear in mind carefully and
distinctly when it was that these words were uttered by our
Lord. The world has passed through various stages of its
history, and mankind has also experienced numerous phases,
both physical and moral, of its development ; and as the earth,
on the one hand, has gradually been becoming more and more
fit to be the theatre of an expanding and developing race of
intelligent beings, so has that race, we would fain believe, been
slowly but assuredly improving pan passu with its dwelling-
place. And although there was a civilization of remote times
in what we may yet call barbarous ages — a civilization of Egypt,
of Babylon, of Greece, and of Rome — yet were those civiliza-
tions deficient in certain great elements, not understood, un-
acknowledged, indeed unknown, and therefore not missed by
the great leaders who framed those and other ancient systems.
In all these great systems of civilization it was the understand-
ing which predominated; it was the human intellect which
asserted itself, which raised to itself monuments of power, of
glory, and of pomp, of art, of science, and of beauty. The
conqueror, in the pride of power over his fellow-men, sat upon
his throne of state; the warrior-monarch, by virtue of his
superior strength of intellectual character, ruled over his
subjected people with a rod of iron ; the nobles, alike supported

88 Nciv Studies in Christian Theology.

by, and supporters of, the throne, held their satrapies in fee by
the material power they possessed to bind adherents to their
cause ; the priests, acting on the superstitions of mankind, sur-
rounded themselves with a bulwark of solid authorit)', which
sometimes availed to tread upon the necks of kings ; and the
people, ignorant and brutalized, were content to acquiesce in
the dominance of their harsh rulers, and accept a position
which was too often that of standing on their guard, as though
in every man they beheld a foe. The philosopher, the poet,
and the artist alone, loving their science, their philosophy, and
their art for their own sake, moved on serenely in the turmoil
of the ages, weaving those systems, and framing those works,
which were surely destined to exercise a benign influence on
mankind in general, to raise each age to a higher platform of
intellectual and social energy than it had previously occupied.

But with all this power and pride of intellect there was a
great void. Although there were not wanting aphorisms of sages,
which inculcated an abnegation of self, and a desire to act for
the benefit of others ; such notions were regarded as mere
fanciful dreams, which few, indeed, ever thought of putting
into practice, and which were rather admired as the abstraction
of the philosopherj than carried into effect as binding, or even
useful, laws of life. The disciples of the schools of wisdom
alone fairly took cognizance of the lessons of justice, of mercy,
and of human equality and human responsibility ; and they, it
is to be feared, regarded them rather as ideals than as realities.
It is not, therefore, to be greatly wondered at that those who
were practically the rulers of mankind — whose law was their
sword — set but little store by precepts, which may have reached
them, as it were, from afar, and which must have appeared to
them as the poor-spirited maxims of peace-loving and unwar-
like civihans. For they came with no authority; they maintained,
it is true, during those ages of strife and of repressive violence,
a great human principle — they kept it alive, like a spark, which
it was not possible could be extinguished ; they fanned it into
a star-like ember, because it was an inalienable right of

' The Laiu and the Prophets.' Sp'

humanity — a part and parcel, though as yet unrecognised, of our
human charter of Hberty — the kernel of our better nature, which
was all but concealed by the husk of self perpetually growing
around, enfolding, and ever endeavouring to close it up from
view.

Of our two great twin faculties during these long ages only-
one appears to have been successfully cultivated. In those
stern times intellect was that which raised a man above his
fellows, to be a ruler of men. Intelligence and mind availed,
to hold in subjection the hosts of mankind less powerfully
endowed, and the rights of a common humanity were held in
no esteem by those who had enlisted on their side the might of
the sword. There was no softening of the heart of him who
held authority over the lives of his fellows ; there was no room
for feelings of brotherly love in men who placed their feet upon
the necks of their fellow-men. Men were too jealous of one
another — too eager to obtain the upper hand; and when obtained
it was kept with a firm grasp which admitted of no soft-hearted
compromise. With the mass of people it was equally a struggle
for existence, in which each man stood on his guard against the
over-reaching attempts of his compeers ; and the law of love,,
unknown and unrecognised, would have been regarded as the
acme of suicidal folly had any seriously attempted to carry it
into practical effect.

We must, at this point, bear in mind that the words of our
text fell upon the world with a Divine authority — not yesterday,
but two thousand years ago — at a time when the state of things,
to which I have alluded, was everywhere dominant. When
Christ preached the Sermon on the Mount, Rome was at the
height of her power. Roman emperors carried conquest to the
farthest corners of the known world ; Roman conquerors came
back to their countrymen with acclamations and with decreed
triumphs. Most of the civilized nations of the present age
were unknown barbarians, whose history had not begun ; and
our own favoured land had not emerged from superstition and
aboriginal ignorance, nor had a suspicion of the part which

90 New Studies in Christian Theology.

Providence had destined it to play in the history of the world.
The Jews themselves were in the lowest condition of morality
which had fallen upon them since the time of Abraham ; pos-
sessed, indeed, of the real law of humanity, but having no com-
prehension of its true meaning and bearing ; hearing but under-
standing not, and seeing without perceiving. It was a time
when the heathen raged furiously together, when the people
imagined a vain thing, when the kings of the earth stood up,
and the rulers took counsel together against the Lord and
against His anointed. It was at this time that Jesus of
Nazareth enunciated to the multitude as a truth, and not as a
mere philosophical abstraction, this great principle, ' Therefore
all things whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you,
do ye even so to them.'

But how could it be expected that this injunction should find
acceptance at such a time, and among such a people ? It was
not new — that is, not new to their understanding — though it
must then have struck them in an entirely new light. Like the
Areopagites to Paul, they might have said to our Lord, ' Thou
bringest certain strange things to our ears ; we would know
therefore what those things mean.' The founders, or rather
the restorers, of religion in China, in Persia, and in India, in
very ancient times, had taught the same thing, and had met
with an abstract acceptance from the admirers of their doctrines
or their philosophy ; but the truth had not thereby been any
more accepted in the hearts of men as an axiom of morality
and a dictate of our inmost consciousness. How, then, did our
Lord succeed in establishing this great law of our nature ? for
we may take it as granted that this declaration, as the sum and
substance of the teaching contained in the Sermon on the
Mount, became from that moment the law of the world, univer-
sally recognised among civilized peoples, and, to a certain
extent, practised ever since by all whose actions were in accord-
ance with their consciences.

Our Lord spake as never man spake ; He spake, that is, with
a power and persuasion, sucli, that even if He handled topics

* The Law and the Prophets.^ 9 1

which were not heard absolutely for the first time, yet they re-
ceived a new impulse, a new light, from His teaching. Our
Lord taught with authority also, and not as the Scribes ; He
addressed Himself, that is, to the deep-seated inner conscious-
ness, to the ineradicable perception of good and evil, of right
and wrong, which everyone possesses, but which is seldom
reached even by a direct appeal, when it hes buried in hearts
long unused to weigh the distinction, seared by thoughtlessness
and neglect, or muffled by custom and surroundings with a
thick cloak of selfishness and indifference. To such the pre-
cepts of philosophers were addressed in vain. To such the
words of our Lord came with a .new power, which, like the
sword of the Spirit, ' pierced even to the dividing asunder of
soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, discerning the
thoughts and intents of the heart' (Heb. iv. 12).

Moreover, the true secret of this power is found in the con-
cluding words of the verse, wherein, after pointing His great
injunction. He adds, ' For this is the Law and the prophets.'

The Jews, although in the time of our Lord no better than
the neighbouring nations in matters of ethics and morality, and
only superior to them in their formal worship of the One True
God, were yet the depositaries of laws, of commandments, and
of a religious system derived directly from the Fount of law,
of order, and of religion. Little as they appreciated their
possession, it was theirs ; and it was this which singled them
out as a remarkable nation. They had neglected their trust, it
is true ; they had falsified the teaching delivered to them by
Moses direct from Jehovah ; but the words of that teaching
were eternal and inviolable, and our Lord came to assert them,
to bring them to remembrance, and to establish them for ever.
And one of those sayings which the Jews might read, the 19th
Leviticus, verse 18, ran thus: 'Thou shalt not avenge, nor
bear any grudge against tlie children of thy people : but thou
shalt love thy neighbour as thyself I am the Lord.'

It might be said that the Jews never, until our Lord delivered,
the parable of the good Samaritan, knew, or at all events never

92 Neiv Studies in Christian Theology.

perceived and appreciated, who was their neighbour. This
ignorance could no longer be pleaded in excuse by them, after
He had said unto them, ' Go, and do thou likewise.' These
words imposed a new covenant, a new commandment, a new
responsibility, which was to last until the end of the world.
' As ye would that men should do to you, do ye also to them
likewise' (Luke vi. 31). The second commandment is like
imto the first, ' Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. On
these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.'
Thus a second time, in this same gospel, is this great truth dis-
tinctly affirmed.

We have here, then, a law of our humanity, a law of nature,
a law of God. Not a law made the other day — not made even
2,000 years ago, by the advent of Christ — but a law under
w bich we were created, a law which is part of our being, a law
which cannot be infringed without unhumanizing us. When
God was pleased to frame the world, he laid every force of
nature under an exact and unerring system of laws, which
could not be broken, because they were the embodiment of the
Divine Order, which is the outward expression of God Himself.
The universe is now, at this day, as subject to these laws as it
was at the beginning; they are never outstepped or infringed,
and mankind can depend, and does depend, upon these laws
as far as discoverable, for every advance they may make in
those arts and sciences which conduce to civilization and
human progress. The law is invariable; the deduction is
certain. If there were any fickleness in the law, the hand of
man would be palsied, and his advance impossible. If, on the
other hand, the law was despised, or set at nought, the con-
tempt or the neglect would recoil upon man with double force
and defeat his ends, as surely as though the law itself had
failed.

Again, God created man with amoral nature, and with those
attributes, reflected from Himself, which we call Humanity.
In man, no less than in nature generall}'', the law is exact and
unerring. In man are certain religious and moral, psychic and

* TJie Law and tJic Pj-opJicts! 93

ethical elements, not warring against each other in chaotic con-
fusion, but under the strict guidance of, and subjection to,
Divine law. Man," like nature, has his general laws and his
particular or special laws ; and two great general laws are
enunciated more than once in the sacred writings — the one
being the subordination of all his faculties in reverence, adora-
tion, and love to his heavenly Father ; the other, the recogni-
tion of common rights in his fellow-man, the subserviency of
self to the good of others, the remembrance that he, individu-
ally, possesses no undivided or supreme claim upon the bounty
and goodness of God, but that all men are equally children of
one great Father, that all men constitute members of one great
family, that all men have an equal right to His protection and
care, that all men are interdependent upon one another, that
all men are placed upon the earth for mutual assistance, for
mutual encouragement, and for mutual support. Add to this
that man cannot by any possibility elevate his soul, except by
the exercise of its influence for good upon those around him,
and it becomes patent that this fundamental law of our being is
a beneficent and a benign law, which cannot possibly be neg-
lected or set at nought without an utter disorganization of our
spiritual faculties, and a total ruin of the ends for which we are
placed in this world. If a man breaks the physical laws of the
universe, he does so at risk, and incurs peril and danger ; so
also, if he breaks a great moral law, he cannot fail to reap a
like result in that inner self which is the seat at once of his sin
and of his punishment.

Isolate man from his fellow-creatures, condemn him to have
no communion with them, to solitude and loneliness — and his
soul revolts, reason becomes dethroned. Such a man would
willingly become the servant of servants, could he only be re-
stored to his natural intercourse with humanity. The law of
nature asserts itself Nor would we be supposed to imply that
the law has been always unheeded, always dormant, prior to
this teaching of Christ. In all ages there have been bright
examples of unselfisliress and benevolence. In all ages has

94 Neiu Studies in Christian TJicology.

our humanity declared itself in deeds which might put to shame
many of the acts of our boasted Christian civilization. But
none the less, the doctrine first took its due and proper hold
upon the world from the time that the words of our text were
uttered upon the Galilean mount. From that time the earth
has been less full of the habitations of cruelty ; from that time
men have gradually learned that it is not only their duty, but a
law of their nature, to climb, not upon the shoulders of their
fellow-men, but by mutual contact and aid ; to rise, not alone
and unheeding of the rest, but to stretch forth the helping
hand to raise with them the less fortunate and the more need-
ing support — to extend their aid to their fellow-men, not asking
if they are of the same nation, of the same religion, of the
same politics, or of the same station in life, but remembering
only that He giveth alike 'to all, life, and breath, and all
things : and hath made of one blood all nations of men, for to
dwell on all the face of the earth' (Acts xvii. 25, 26).

LECTURE XII.

THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT icoiltijiued).

5. Enter in at the Strait Gate.

' Enter ye in at the strait gate ; for wide is the gate, and broad is the way,
that leadeth to destruction, and many there be which go in thereat :
because strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, wliich leadeth unto life,^
and few there be that find it.' — ISIatt, vii. 13-14.

We have in these verses one of those remarkable utterances of
our Lord with which the Sermon on the Mount everywhere
abounds. For those chapters in which are found the collected
series of sayings which have received that title, contain the pith
and marrow, as it were, of His teachings — the essence of the
Christian religion, in all its bloom and in all its perfection. We
can hardly suppose that all those sayings, thus brought together,
were spoken at the same time or on the same occasion. They
were probably collected by the Evangelist from the numerous
sermons or teachings which our Lord gave to the people, in
the synagogue, from the boat on Gennesaret, or from the
Mount. For we always find that our Lord did not overdo His
lessons, nor overtask His hearers. If He had occasion to give
spiritual instruction, He did it sparingly, as to people who
could not bear much at a time, who could not digest too plen-
teous feasts of spiritual food ; and He therefore spoke unto them
according to their ability to hear and to understand His words.
We can therefore hardly suppose that this prodigious banquet,
called the ' Sermon on the Mount,' could have been spread
before them all at once. For it was equivalent to a moral
revolution : to be understood and acted upon would have re-

9^ Nciv Studies in Christian Theology.

quired a change in human nature equivalent to a new birth ;
such a change as, in the very nature of things, could not be
otherwise than slow and gradual. His was at the same time
the newest and the greatest system of morality which had ever
been laid before mankind. It was at once novel and striking,
and yet of such a nature as to commend itself to the inmost
conscience of its hearers as something good and true. It was,
as it were, the expression of all that had ever been the ideal
and the aspiration of the greatest teachers who had instructed
mankind, and kept alight the torch of religion and ethics in the
breast of the human race. It was a code which could nowhere
have been enfoired upon any nation or people, could nowhere
have been made practicable until it had become grafted in the
hearts of those whom it was to rule ; and therefore in no age
could it have been introduced by any coup, or made acceptable
by any popularity or cajolery of a personal legislator or favourite
individual philosopher. On the contrary, so divergent was it
from the ingrown prejudices and the native feeling of every
age, that its promulgator would probably have been reckoned
an enthusiast and a fanatic, and his utterances fond and
Utopian.

But He who did promulgate this wonderful code was one who
came with power, who was recognised, even in that age, as one
who spoke with authority — nay, as one who spoke as never yet
man had spoken ; although there were not wanting sages and
philosophers who had enlightened the earth with bright gems
of wisdom and science. And He came to make things new —
■not in the sense of having been hitherto non-existent, but to
restore old and lost traditions and knowledge, to replace upon
her throne that Truth which had indeed been cast down from
her pedestal, but which was yet imperishable and unchange-
able through all the chances and variations of the world and its
nations. And therefore could He wield His speech like a
magic wand which held sway over the hearts of rnen; He
could find entrance to those hearts by a magic key known only
to Himself, because He alone held the clue which was to adapt

' Enter in at the Strait Gate! 97

eternal truth to the very nature and primal constitution of
mankind, with which it had been once in harmony and from
which it could never be permitted to be absolutely in discord.

But even He would not have too rashly attempted to bring
them into union. He had many things to tell mankind ; but
He, better than anyone, knew the mode and fitting season ;
and He taught His disciples, and still more, the ignorant people
(not so much under His personal influence), here a little and
there a little — line upon line, and precept upon precept : as St.
Mark expresses it, ' He spake the word unto them as they were
able to hear it; and when He was alone. He expounded all
things to His disciples,' in order that He might fit them to be
Evangelists, teachers of His doctrine to the world at large.

But when we read, as in the Gospel by St. Matthew, the
connected series of teachings which are there displayed in the
form of the Sermon on the Mount, we cannot fail to be struck
by their beautiful unity, their wonderful bond, and the bearing
of chapter on chapter, and verse upon verse. There is a re-
markable interdependence of all the parts, and each paragraph
— brief and terse, like all the Biblical writings — though at first
sight somewhat unconnected and inconsequential, becomes, on
a closer examination, so inwoven into the whole, that any
attempt to mutilate, by the excision of any subject or motive,
tells upon the whole plan, and disarranges and disfigures the
general complexion of the whole result. And this, we would
suggest, is a strong argument in favour of the inspiration of
these writings, since it can be pointed out that this unique code
of moral and religious teaching, collected from numerous and
probably isolated addresses by our Lord, made to a wondering
people eighteen centuries back, is presented to us as acomj^lete
and connected essay, well fitted for the consideration and adop-
tion of a world educated and advanced by the lapse of that
long and important period of timej the most important and
most fraught with change and progress in the history of the
world.

To turn, however, to that especial section of this wonderful

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98 Neiv Studies in Christian Theology.

sermon which stands at the head of this Lecture, it may be
seen that it is to be read in connection with the precepts which
go just before it. Our Lord has been urging upon them the
necessity of lo7'e to the neighbour. In fact, the whole of the
precedent verses refer to that essential law, and are summed up
in the 12th verse, in the words, ' Therefore, all things whatso-
ever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to
them : for this is the law and the prophets.' But this important
duty, which is thus declared to be absolutely incumbent upon
us, is one which is naturally repugnant to us. The natural
man exclaims, ' Charity begins at home.' He sees no reason
why he should sink his own individual claims in the sight of
others, or merge the love of his individual self in the desire to
increase the happiness of those beyond his personal sphere.
The regenerate man, however, knows that self m.ust be
secondary — that his duty to others is at least as great as his
duty to himself — that he is morally bound to do for his brethren
as least as much as he would do for himself. But even this is
only the first step in spirituality. It is the earliest lesson, which
will withdraw him from the slough of self-love and awaken in
him an interest outside self- — give others a share in that intense
interest which heretofore, and by nature, was concentrated in
his own person. Yet he must not stop there. There is a
natural law, there is a spiritual law, and there is a celestial law.
The natural law (which we call the first law of nature) is self-
interest ; the spiritual law is, that we do for others as we would
do for ourselves — this is the law of our renewed nature, the
opening of our interior and better consciousness, which thus
becomes alive to the perception of higher things than our
nature prompted — the conviction and the practical performance
of which, however, could only be effected by the working in us
of something which would so change our wills as to render
possible that which before was absolutely without the range of
our natural powers. But still there is a higher law beyond.

For we have only thus gained a step, though be it granted a
most important one, as it is the first. But the celestial , law

^ Enter in at t/ic Strait Gate! 99

consummates in us all that the spiritual law has, tentatively, as
it were, effected ; and we are by it prepared for that perfectness
which can scarcely be gained in this life, but which our educa-
tion and training in the precepts of the Sermon on the Mount
will fit and prepare us to fulfil hereafter. For the celestial law
demands that we shall so entirely reverse the natural order of
things, that we shall love our neighbour better than ourselves.
Here is no word of doing to others as we would they should
do unto us, only — but to prefer one another, to sacrifice self so
entirely, as to wish only for the advancement and happiness of
others, and so to work for it as to find, and to secure for self,
the happiness which arises from the good of others. This is a
widening of the individual sphere — not a self-negation in the
sense of self abandonment or self-contempt, but a self-repression
which is of the nature of a personal elevation, and an accession
of self-respect in its highest and most durable form.

But to reach this goal much restraint is required ; and here
it is that our text furnishes us with a guide : ' Enter ye in at
the strait gate ' — the narrow way. It is no easy matter for a
man to change his love — the love, that is, which by nature con-
stitutes his life. It is easy to talk, but not so easy to act ; but
to be ' renewed in the spirit of your mind,' this requires self-
denial, self-restraint, self-abnegation, self-abasement. For a man
who loves himself, and has no thought for his fellow-man, there
must be self-denial exercised before he can be brought to share
with his neighbour the benefits which hitherto he has regarded
as his own by prescriptive right. He must be used to self-
restraint before he can cease from, or curtail, those personal
indulgences to which he has become accustomed, in order that
others may partake of the fruits of his abstinence. There
must be a practice of self-abnegation which shall allow no
feeling of envy to mar his rejoicing with those to whose lot may
fall good things denied (for the time) to himself; and there
must be a power of self-abasement which shall admit of the
belief that he is not better than others, that /le has no superior
claim to the goodness of God, and which enables him to recog-

7—2

lOO Neiu Studies in Christian Theology.

nise, in others, virtues which heretofore he has beheved to be
centred only in himself.

All this renders the gate very strait — the way very narrow.
Burdened with his own self-love, it would be impossible to
traverse it ; and one so laden would be apt to tread the broad
way which leadeth to destruction, for ease and freedom. For
it is the nature of man to select that which is easiest, and to
reject that which presents the greatest difficulty ; and the way
of life is, to the unregenerate, hard and repulsive. It requires
a certain amount of self-spurring to climb the steep and narrow
road. Those who do so must exercise choice and selection,
and do that to which they are not naturally inclined : and
hence it is that there are few who find that strait gate, which
can only be entered by means of spiritual strife, by struggling
with temptation, by the resistance of Satan and of the works of
Satan, by crucifying the flesh with its affections and lusts.
These things are not easy — nay, they are impossible to the
natural man ; but they can be attained to, though only in one
way. Let no one suppose that he may sit still and be guided
into it — that cannot be ; for with all God's desire that the wicked
man should not perish, it is impossible that it can be otherwise
unless he makes some exertion to avoid that fate. It is abso-
lutely necessary that the power to resist should be sought,
otherwise it will not be given. It is essential that every man
should himself co-operate with God, or the Holy Spirit will
endeavour in vain to find its way to a man's heart. Hence it
is said, ' Strive to enter in at the strait gate ' (Luke xiii. 24).
Cast away indolence, and indifference, and sloth, and 'laying
aside every weight, and the sin that doth so easily beset us,
let us run with patience the race that is set before us, looking
unto Jesus, the author and the finisher of our faith' (Heb. xii. i).
'Let your loins be girded, and your lights burning' (Luke xii. 35).
'Stand fast in the faith, quit you like men, be strong' (i Cor.
xvi. 13). All these, and similar passages, point to an active
exertion, a sustained endurance, which is doubtless painful and
laborious, but which is none the less necessary to win the

* Enter in at the Strait Gate' loi

prize, for which we are to strive — namely, to enter in at the
strait gate, the narrow, difficult, and stony way, which leadeth
unto Hfe.

But there is the other side of the picture — for wide is the
gate and broad the way that leadeth to destruction, and
many there be which go in thereat. Too easy, alas, and too
wide ! but what has made it so ? It is man's own fall from
goodness and truth, which has so changed his original character
as to have given him a second nature far inferior to his first.
If man was once in a state of holiness and spirituality, and
even then fell into the love of self and the world, how shall he
now escape ? how return to his pristine goodness ? The down-
ward road is easy when once begun, but what shall we say of
the upward path ? No earthly power, no unaided wish or effort
of man's, can restore him, or set him upon that ascending
career. And then it is, that by his congenital tendency, he has
placed himself like a rolling ball upon an inclined plane, and
must take the broad road, which is terminated by its wide
absorbing gate, admitting many, and only too accessible to all.
In this road all walk by nature ; and to this end would all
come, but for grace.

But there are many things which are mercifully provided
to check the downward progress. Trials, temptations, sick-
ness, loss of friends or of fortune, and a thousand other
means may intervene, in the Providence of God, to arrest the
descending steps, to awaken the slumbering conscience, to
give us pause, and make us bethink ourselves of what lies at
the end. No man will be punished for following his natural
bent, but every man is responsible for deliberate choice. It is
not the inherited sin of our fallen parents which will alone
take us to the wide gate, for God does not permit that any
shall follow the broad path with closed eyes. Conscience is
active, the workings of God's Spirit are perceptible, warnings
are not wanting, and there are many landmarks in that de-
scending path which recall to a soul, otherwise lethargic, the
necessity of changing its course, ceasing in its downward pro-

102 Neiv Studies in Christian Theology.

gress, pausing in its headlong career, and first stopping, pre-
paratory to a return in search of the narrower way.

Cease to do evil, and learn to do well ; this is the programme
we ought all to set ourselves. To everyone it is equally ne-
cessary, on every one is equally incumbent. We cannot do
good till we have ceased doing evil ; we cannot climb till we
have done with falling. Let no man suppose that he can
become good suddenly, but let him be content at first with
ceasing to be evil, and the rest will follow in due course.
Looked at from this standpoint, none need despair of ultimate
success in regaining the upward path. It requires an exertion
of the will, and it is too often mere indolence which keeps a
man down ; mere obedience to unloved habit, mere slaving to
despised custom and association, which urges a man forward
without an effort to check himself — ' Video meliora, deteriora
sequor' — 'When I would do good, evil is present with me.'
As St, Paul expresses his experience, ' I see another law in my
members,.. warring against the law of my mind, and bringing
me into captivity to the law of sin which is in my members.
O wretched man that I am !' (might one in such plight well
exclaim), ' who shall deliver me from the body of this death ?'
(Rom. vii. 23, 24).

The only remedy, then, for this fatal declension, is repentance.
True repentance is incompatible with further fall, and such
repentance will be accompanied by such desire to find the
narrow way, as will itself carry with it the Divine blessing,
and render it comparatively easy. We have indeed ample
encouragement that such will be the case, and that such a
desire will be fully met by such facilities to carry out our good
intentions, as will well repay the earnest trial ; for has not
the prophet proclaimed, in the name of the Lord, ' Say unto
them. As I live, saith the Lord God, I have no pleasure in
the death of the wicked; but that the wicked turn from his
way and live : turn ye, turti ye, from your evil ways : for why
will ye die, O house of Israel?' (Ezek. xxxiii. 11).

LECTURE XIII.

THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT {continued).

6. ' Consider the Lilies of the Field. ^

' Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow ; they toil not, neither
do they spin. And yet I say unto you, that even Solomon in all his glory
was not arrayed like one of these.' — Matt. vi. 28.

This passage, in its mere external sense, is a favourite one with
many persons, on account of the beauty of the simple idea
conveyed by it. It is beautiful in itself, and no less beautiful
in its setting in our Lord's Sermon on the Mount. He is
speaking of the dependence which everyone ought to experi-
ence on the overlooking providence of their heavenly Father,
which should lead the mind to feel indifference to all the
changes and chances of this life, under the conviction that it
is but a place of trial, where every material circumstance has
but a factitious importance ; and where, while prosperity should
not harden, neither should adversity cause anyone to repine.
' Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat or what ye
shall drink; nor yet for the body, what ye shall put on.'
Necessary, indeed, was such teaching at a time when Roman
gluttony and luxury set an evil example to the world — when
men spent their time in costly feasting, and went softly, clad
in purple and fine linen, crying aloud by their lives, if not with
their voices : * Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die !' 'Is
not the life more than meat, and the body than raiment?'
Meat and drink must of course be taken, to support the body,
and clothing must be worn to protect it ; yet should we not
place the former before the latter, and make that which is

I04 Nezv Studies in CJiristian Theology.

subordinate to take the chief place. The abuse of all things
is the ignoring of their use. All things, if used for their right
end, are lawful ; but when the use is neglected or forgotten,
when the end is debased and the mea7is exalted, then is it
abuse.

Our Lord, however, here teaches that all that is necessary
for the life of our bodies, and for our protection from surround-
ing influences, is given to us freely by the Lord : ' Behold the
fowls of the air, for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor
gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them.^
They take no thought beyond that which is necessary for their
sustenance, and yet they live by the bounty of God. And if
the very fowls of the air, of which we take no note — if they
find all that is needful, by the unfailing goodness of our
heavenly Father — without whom not one of them falls to the
ground — how much more shall He supply His creature, man,
with everything he requires, if only he will trust in Him, and
not be too solicitous about his own part in the matter. His
motto should be, ' The Lord will provide ;' and except that he
must not fall into the error of neglecting his own affairs, and
making his belief a cloak for indolence and carelessness, the
Christian should be content to leave all in God's hands, and
in all cases to trust Him — thanking Him when blessings are
showered upon him, and trusting Him in cases of difficulty
and distress.

There are other lessons to be learned under the image just
quoted ; but these do not fall within the scope of this Lecture,
except as preliminary to the consideration of the words of our
text, wherein our Lord proceeds to take an illustration from
the vegetable kingdom : ' Consider the lilies of the field.' Those
who heard the Sermon on the Mount must have been indeed
familiar with the lilies of the field. Many parts of Palestine
are thickly covered with the splendid flowers of the scarlet
Martagon lily — the Syrian lily, as it is now called; and the
region of Galilee is particularly rich in its beautiful and bril-
liant red blossoms. It is a stately plant, and its turban-like

'Consider the Lilies of the Field. 105

flowers form striking objects in April and May in those
countries. There are, however, other lilies, such as the white
lily and the lily of the valley ; which latter, from their humility
and beauty, may put in some claim to have been those used
in the illustration ; but probably the more striking forms of
lily, whether red or white, would have been present to the
minds of the illiterate populace, to whom the words were ad-
dressed : * Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow ;
they toil not, neither do they spin.' Probably but few of our
Lord's hearers had ever considered the lilies of the field before.
They had seen lilies, had trodden them under foot, had beaten
them down idly with their staffs as they passed by ; but con-
sider them ! that they had never done. They were like the
rustic of the northern poet :

' A primrose by the river's brim,
A simple primrose 'twas to him,
And it was nothing more.'

But our Lord's admonition to consider the lilies of the field,
how they grow, must have come upon their minds as a surprise.
' True, beautiful they are, although we are so accustomed to
see them, that we scarcely thought of that ; but how do they
grow? what brings them up from apparent death and extinc-
tion year after year ? We see them die, and disappear in the
autumn, and did we not know by experience that they would
revive again in spring, we should think them quite gone, never
to be again the glory of the field ; and yet again they grow,
again they unfold their beautiful flowers — but how? Listen
what saith the Master ?' He says, ' They toil not, neither do
they spin ; and yet I say unto you that even Solomon, in all
his glory, was not arrayed like one of these. Wherefore, if
God so clothe the grass of the field . . .' It is God, then, that
clothes the lilies with bright green leaves, and rich scarlet or
white flowers. It is God who is their sun, and raises them
from the dust to bloom in their season, with a magnificence
which the great Solomon could scarcely boast in all his glory.
' And shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of Uttle faith '.'

io6 Nezv Studies in Christian Theology.

Like all the teaching of our Lord, there are two meanings in
this lesson — not two meanings in the sense of a double entendre^
one of which is a play upon the other, or in any way antagon-
istic or contradictory to the other — but a meaning upon the
surface, which the simplest may appreciate, and apply to them-
selves ; and also a deeper spiritual meaning, which a man must
learn from one who is competent to teach him. The simple
lesson is patent to all. Let the unlearned even once regard
the lilies of the field as the pensioners of the bounty of God ;
let them once perceive that the beauty of the flowers which
spring up beneath the feet to spangle the turf, or to deck the
forest glade, is a beauty which comes directly from the hand of
God, and then will he remember that he also is one of God's
creatures — one much more important, as a being endowed with
sense and life, made in His image and after His likeness.
And then, if he wisely applies the lesson, he must feel that the
perfection of the flower of the field is but a shadow of the
perfection which God wills in His creatures; that the care
which He bestows upon the gorgeous blossoms is but a tithe
of the care and protection which He extends over those whom
He has created as recipients of His own divine qualities ; and
thus he will be brought, as Mungo Park on a memorable occa-
sion was brought, to a loving trust in Him — to a renewed
confidence in His protection ; and he will go forth with
strength of spirit, under the assured guidance of One who will
do for everyone that which is best. He will remember that
whatever his difficulties, whatever his dangers, whatever his
wants, his heavenly Father knoweth that he has need of all
these things. All these things, indeed, are of secondary and
subordinate importance. However much they may appear to
be needed, they are but of temporary value. But one thing is
really needful : ' Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and His
righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you.'
This was the simple lesson to the fishermen and common
people taught by the Sermon on the Mount.

* And why take ye thought for raiment ?' says our Lord,

* Consider the Lilies of the Field.' 107

preparatory to His beautiful illustration. Let it be remem-
bered that throughout the Sermon on the Mount spiritual
things are spoken of under natural emblems. Thus, raiment
is of two kinds. The body is the natural raiment of the soul,
while the raiment of the body is that which simply conceals
and protects it; just, indeed, as the body conceals and pro-
tects the soul during our terrestrial life. Thus, garments have
a good and a bad sense. A natural garment may be used as
a simple concealment of an evil intent; and the natural body
may in the same manner conceal the workings of the spirit
within. This is easy enough in this world; nor can anyone
know the quality of his neighbour, if he chooses to hide the
evil thoughts of his heart under a suave and mild exterior;
just as a prince may be disguised in rags, or a peasant in
purple and ermine. But the spiritual clothing of the soul,
which is here rather referred to, consists in those principles of
truth and goodness in which each man lives, and which must
be genuine and real, to bear comparison with the works of the
Creator, such as the lilies of the field. Not self-righteousness,
not any quality of soul which we derive from our own merit or
goodness. Of such, Isaiah's expression may be used : ' All
our righteousness is as filthy rags ' (Isa. Ixiv. 6). We are like
a faded and shrivelled leaf, rather than the glorious flowers of
the lilies of the field. Nor must our garment be a deceptive
one, like the cloke of maliciousness, or of covetousness, referred
to by the Apostles. True spiritual raiment must be formed
by the principle of good, not grounded in the understanding
alone, but wedded to the will and affections ; so that there
may be a perfect accord between the perception and the act.

But the lilies of the field are clothed by God — they ' are all
glorious within.' Not like the works of man, which fail to bear
close inspection— not like the most delicate coverings made by
man's ingenuity, which appear coarse and rude when looked
into more closely. Place under the microscope a piece of fine
lace or cambric, and the fabric has the appearance of rough
cordage — all its beauty is gone, and a clumsy interlacement of

io8 Neiv Studies in CJiristian Theology.

coarse fibres is exposed to the view; but place in the same posi-
tion the petal of a lily, and it becomes more lovely by the
increased power of vision. The delicacy of the coloured cell
is brought out, the beautiful interlacing fibres, like threads of
gold through a rich fabric, amaze and delight the observer ;
and the closer he examines, the more he is struck with wonder
at the sight. Such is ever the difference between the works of
man and those of the Creator. And such, also, is the differ-
ence between a man's character which is only dependent upon
himself, and one which has been humbly and carefully framed
by the Divine aid. In the one case, it must necessarily be
deceptive, weak, poor, inflated ; in the other, it should be, if
help is properly sought, genuine, firm, strong, rich in grace,
and beautiful with trusting humility. And the spiritual
raiment corresponds to these diversities of character. Souls,
like bodies, have their garments. Were it even that corres-
pondence alone teaches us this, it must be evident. The body
is adorned by rich raiment, in proportion to the dignity of
office, and the rank of nobility. So, also, the soul is clad in
an apparel which corresponds to the genuineness of its per-
ceptions, its love of truth, and its delight in good. White
raiment is always described as the apparel of angels. When
the angel of the Lord descended from heaven, and rolled
away the stone from the sepulchre, and sat upon it. his coun-
tenance was like lightning, and his raiment white as snow —
signifying the light of celestial truth which he embodied. And
when our Lord Himself was transfigured upon the mount, His
face shone as the sun, and His raiment became white as the
light — to denote that, as the natural body is clothed in raiment,
so ' the inexpressible beauty of His Divine truth ' flowed from,
and invested the Divine goodness.

Such spiritual raiment, then, must be derived from genuine
truth, and must denote the true quality of the soul. They are,
therefore, the gift of God, just as the clothing of the lilies of
the field are also gifts directly from Him. Of them our Lord
says, ' They toil not, neither do they spin ' — two expressions

' Consider the Lilies of the Field! 109

well chosen, and full of meaning. For there are two ways of
arriving at a knowledge of truth. The regenerate man has, by
conflict and victory over temptations, and by persistent pur-
suit in the path of goodness and truth, brought his soul into
such a condition that he is enabled to perceive truth, and to
appreciate it, as it were, intuitively. This receptive power is
the gift of God to those who are capable of receiving it ; and
such only are thus capable who have become the followers of
Christ as dear children. Good thoughts and perceptions of
truth spring up like good seed in a rich soil ; and with no
effort they are able to profit by the beautiful thoughts im-
planted in their souls by the Lord, and thus to endue them-
selves with the rich spiritual garments which the Lord provides,
without their own anxiety or care ; just as the hlies do, which
grow up to their natural beauty in freedom and spontaneously.

But there is another way of arriving at truth, though not of
appropriating it, namely, by logical induction, by bringing
together facts, by heaping together natural knowledge — or by
unproductive faith, which sees, but feels not. All these means
may be used by the self-dependent man, who may think that
thereby he has become wise ; but his wisdom is in a great
measure self-derived, and therefore worthless. Instead of
coming direct from the Fount of all wisdom, by the aid of
humble prayer and loving faith, it is the result of careful cal-
culation, of ingenious speculation, of empty self-laudation ;
whereas real truth is celestial in its nature, and all from the
Lord.

How beautifully is this difference expressed by our Lord !
The lilies toil not, neither do they spin. The lilies do not,
like these men, heap together dry facts, accumulate matters of
knowledge with toil and labour, hoping thus to arrive at truth ;
nor do they inductively build theories of truth from bare facts,
or spin webs of doctrine from their accumulations of know-
ledge. They toil not, neither do they spin, and yet they are
clothed in beauty by Him who looks less to the understanding
than to the heart, and who has created and endowed them as

no Netv Studies in Christian Theology.

the emblems of simple faith and loving trust — of the pure in
heart, and the right in spirit — of such as, laying aside the
understanding of the worldly-wise, become as little children,
receiving thankfully the benefits bountifully afforded by their
heavenly Father, and imbibing, as it were, imperceptibly and
spontaneously, draughts of pure and unadulterated truth from
the wells of living water, at which they thus become qualified
to drink freely. These are the lilies of the field. These are
they, fashioned of God no less as to their interiors than as to
their exteriors, and thus fitted to be transferred from their
seasonal home in the field of earth, to the eternal spring of the
Paradise of heaven.

But the robes of Solomon ' in all his glory ' were earthly
robes. Symbols they were of the royal power and magnifi-
cence conferred upon him by Jehovah ; and so long as the
heart was pure before God, the earthly robes would be un-
spotted, and fit symbols of spiritual garments. And yet they
had a more definite spiritual correspondence — for 'the Jewish
kings were representatives of the spiritual principle, clothed
with the truths of intelligence and knowledge ' — not, therefore,
the highest principle, inasmuch as it is distinctly a step below
the celestial principle, where clothing is not merely the compre-
hended truths of wisdom, but the perceptions of truths received
into the inmost soul. The raiment of Solomon in all his glory,
therefore, although excellent, necessarily fell short of the
clothing of the simple lilies — emblems of celestial truth and
goodness — and the mightiest and wisest prince, on the pin-
nacle of earthly glory, was not arrayed like one of these !
What consolation is this for the humble and loving Christian !
It may be his circumstances and position in this world are,
in the eyes of the world, lowly, mean, ground down, and
straitened by poverty. His clothing may be coarse and
scanty — no purple or fine linen enfolds his limbs; a dinner of
herbs may be more his custom than to fare sumptuously every
day. And yet the heart trustful and simple ; the will in accord
with that of his heavenly Father ; the desires tending to truth

* Consider tJtc L Hies of the Field! 1 1 1

and love ; the aspirations yearning after heavenly things ; the
mind ever schooled to say, *Thy will be done.' Such a man,
however mean his earthly raiment, is weaving for himself
celestial apparel more glorious than Solomon's — unseen by
mortal eyes, but which, when the husk falls off the ripe fruit,
shall stand forth in all its glory like the lilies of the field. Such
a man is preparing for himself a wedding garment, which shall
be ready for him to put on at the supper of the Lamb, when,
after all the toil of life, after all the trials, doubts, sufferings,
temptations, partings, and tears of this troublous earthly career,
he shall have come off more than conqueror, and be received
into the eternal kingdom with the welcome, ' Well done, good
and faithful servant ; enter thou into the joy of thy Lord !'

LECTURE XIV.

THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT {continued).

7. ' Behold the Fowls of the Air. '

' Behold the fowls of the air, for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor
gather into barns ; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not
much belter than they ?' — Matt. vi. 26.

No one who has the Christian's faith can fail to perceive that
there is an adaptation of things in the world about us. We
see that world to be the abode of many besides ourselves ;
many, that is, who, although totally out of our own sphere, we
must yet believe (if we give the matter any consideration at
all) to be animated by hopes and fears, to have their joys and
their sorrows, to possess individual interests as powerful as our
own — to be, in fact (although utterly and for ever beyond our
personal and immediate knowledge), counterparts of ourselves.
And yet how seldom do we stop to reflect upon it ; how seldom,
even when these counterparts meet us in our daily life, do we
give them the tithe of the thought and consideration which we
expend upon ourselves ! Our own joys and our own sorrows
are sufficient and all-absorbing ; our own lot has an interest for
us, not only outrivalling that of any other, but even thrusting
aside the good or evil fortune which appeals from without to
our sympathy and consideration. Self, indeed, rules the world
now as ever ; and few there are who can be said, like the three
children, to refuse to bow the knee to the golden image.

But besides ourselves, the world of nature is ever before us, and
therein we may learn much. For all created things which have
the gift of life have also, in minor and graduated degrees, their

' BeJiold the Fozvls of iJic A ii\ 1 1 3

joys and their sorrows, which even we of highest intelh'gence
can in some measure judge and appreciate. We see in the
vegetable world the trees opening their buds and throwing out
their leaves and blossoms under the genial influence of return-
ing spring, flourishing in their umbrageous shades under the
still heats of summer, gasping and drooping when the chill
blasts of autumn begin to proclaim the season of decay and
death. We see the beautiful flowers springing out of the dust
of an apparent death, under the bright skies of the opening
year. We see them arrayed, more grandly than Solomon in all
his glory, in the shady recesses of the wood, or by the wild
brook-side ; on the Alpine height, no less than in the gay and
blooming parterres of the cultivated garden ; and again fading
and vanishing, whether in a state of nature or under the skilful
and careful protection of their loving tenders and cultivators.
Conscious life, perhaps, they have not, and yet they look gay.
They flourish ; they are lovely in the sun of prosperity and
happiness, and they fade and die when it is withdrawn for a
season.

Still more does the animal world claim our attention,
because we admit for them feeling and emotions, as well as at
least a substitute for reason. They have with us much in
common that is good, as unfortunately we have with them
much in common that is evil. But some of the best traits of
our own natural life are shared by them, and not only shared,
but they even put us to shame by their industry, their activity,
their temperance, their maternal affection. The ant is a lesson
to the sluggard, as the early lark is to the indifferent and
slothful in business ; and all alike teach us to be moderate in
our desires, patient under our adversities, forgiving under our
injuries, and careful for those who are helpless and dependent
upon our love.

When our Lord called the attention of the disciples to
the fowls of the air, as illustrations of His doctrine, He
implied no blame to them of improvidence, that they
neither sowed nor reaped, gathered nor stored. Rather the

114 Nczv Studies ill Christ ian Theology.

reverse, for He taught that a man might be too carefal of
means, and too careless of ends — too thoughtful concerning
his own provision, and not thoughtful enough concerning the
provision made for us by a higher and superior Power. The
birds of the air are the creatures of impulse, now soaring to
heaven, now descending to earth, which they adorn with their
presence and enliven with their songs. They find a banquet
ever spread for them, of which they may partake freely. We
are accustomed to see them flying across our path, to listen to
them with pleasure; but do we stop to consider their history?
They are to most of us simply the fowls of the air, scarce
worthy of our notice ; but if we do pause to behold them — if
we do for a moment think whence they derive their subsistence,
we learn a lesson which it is good for us to understand, and
to acknowledge — the lesson of dependence — the lesson of
trust.

For the fowls of the air are the pensioners of God ; they sow
not, neither do they reap nor gather into barns ; but they are
not in want ; they have no resources beyond the everyday
picking up of crumbs — for each day sufficient, and each day
renewed, like the manna of the wilderness. The God who
created them does not neglect them, but endows them with
power to use their instinct and their organs with one accord to
supply themselves with the bounteous stores of food at Nature's
table. The food sometimes ceases, and they die ; but they do
not die without the Father's knowledge, or the Creator's care.
He watches over all His works — even over the sparrows upon
the housetop. Your heavenly Father feedeth them ; and will
He not feed you ? Your heavenly Father forgetteth not them,
and will He forget you? Are you not much better than they?
Behold, you are of more value than many sparrows. Be of
good cheer, then ; for as the less is included in the greater, so
must your life and your well-being occupy the loving thoughts
and watchful care of Him who considereth the meanest of His
creatures as not unworthy of His Divine forethought and
never-ceasing aid.

* Behold the Fozols of the A ir.' 1 1 5

These are some of the thoughts which must have been
raised, and evidently raised of set purpose, in the minds of
those who listened to this, and other doctrines, contained in
the Sermon on the Mount. To Him all Nature was an open
book. He not only knew the bearings of each section of it
upon our own life, character, and aspirations, but He also best
knew their application, and how to use it ; and repeatedly in
His parables He adduces images from the natural world to
enforce the lessons of His love and wisdom upon His hearers.
In this respect, indeed, He set His seal of authority upon the
truth of those best teachers who have, as it were, instinctively
appealed to Nature in a lesser degree for the illustrations of
their teaching ; from Job, the ancient patriarch, to Shakespeare,
the comparatively modern poet of a century or two back.
Thus says Job, ' But ask now the beasts, and they shall teach
thee ; and the fowls of the air, and they shall tell thee ; or
speak to the earth, and it shall teach thee, and the fishes of
the sea shall declare unto thee ' (Job xii. 7, 8). And doth not
our own great poet, as usual, hold the mirror up to Nature,
when he endows it with —

' Tongues in the trees — books in the running brooks —
Sermons in stones — and good in everything !'

'Who teacheth us,' again says Job (xxxv, 11), 'more than
the beasts of the earth, and maketh us wiser than the fowls of
heaven ?' And if we are so much wiser than the fowls of
heaven, surely we shall not be outdone by them in trust and
confidence in our common Maker. No more powerful argu-
ment for our superiority over the birds of the air could be used
than that of our Lord Himself, when He said, 'Are not two
sparrows sold for a farthing ?' We are indeed, in His sight, of
more value than many sparrows. And thus is the poet's grand
description of humanity vindicated from any vain self-esteem
or vulgar vanity, as the highest and noblest of the works of the
All-wise and All-good : ' What a piece of work is man / How
noble in reason ; how infinite in faculties ! in form and moving
how express and admirable ! in action how like an angel ! m

8—2

Ii6 Nezv Studies in Christian TJicology.

apprehension how like a god ! the beauty of the world ! the
paragon of animals !' Nor is there anything in this wonderful
apostrophe which too highly extols the Creator's crowning
work ; and the only qualification which is necessary to temper
a misplaced self-glorification is the remembrance of the axiom
that ' A man can receive nothing, except it be given him from
heaven.'

If, then, we are justified in thus regarding man as the special
work and crowning care of God Himself, it necessarily follows
that we ought to have full confidence that such a work is no
capricious toy, to be cast aside in apathy and neglect, but a
precious and valuable object of never-ceasing regard, and
watchful providence on the part of Him who called us into
being, and so wonderfully endowed us. And be it remembered
that, in one sense, all mankind are equally endowed. I do not
mean, of course, that every man is capable of the same intellec-
tual exercise in the world, of an equal comprehension and
appreciation of matters seen or unseen in his present condi-
tion. Here we are surrounded by influences which in one case
stunt and dwarf the faculties — in another, afford them free scope
and exercise. But this is one of those things which, while it
may somewhat puzzle us now, affords no inapt illustration of
the necessity of a faith and trust in God, as a consequence of
a belief in Him.

^^'hen, however, it is advanced that all men are equally
endowed, it means that we are all children of one common
father — and the children of the same parent fare alike in
their father's house. They are equal, they are all the children
of the house ; and although temporary circumstances may
appear to favour one more than another, they have the same
rank, and are united in a common bond. So with men in
general ; they are endowed with body and soul alike. The
body may be weaker in one than in another, but the body is
but the temporary tenement of the soul ; the weakness of the
body may be the especial blessing which may be destined to
guide the soul to its true and proper home. If the Father is

'Behold the Fowls of the Air' 117

what we believe Him to be — an all-wise and infinitely loving
Father, then must His working and His plan, however obscure
to us, be positively and decidedly the best. He wills that none
should perish, but that all should come into eternal life ; why,
then, should we quarrel with the means He takes, and the
ways He adopts ? Why should we exclaim against the trials
which He sends, just as children exclaim against the medicine
which is to heal their disease ? Are we, or He, the best able
to judge ? is the question which we seldom ask ourselves,
simply because we are usually unwilling to.; be guided by a
rational reply.

The difficulty with us all is, to realize our own condition.
The world around us seems so genuine — so real ; the things
which we see and feel appear to be so solid, and so tangible ;
the sufferings we undergo seem so grievous, and so hopeless ;
the pleasures we enjoy seem so all-absorbing at the moment, so
priceless in our eyes, that we cannot, without severe schooling,
be taught that they are really of very secondary importance.
These, we think we can realize, but not what is future — what
is unseen — what appears uncertain ; although in our heart of
hearts we know it to be sure. All this we are content only to
glance at, to hold with a light hand, as if it were the shadow,
and the present the substance. It requires self-control, a
powerful, and not inborn self-restraint, to relax our hold upon
the joys of the present, in order to fix them more firmly upon
the promises of the future. We want faith, all of us ; we pro-
fess it, but we have it not ; we want a conviction that ' the
things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are
unseen are eternal ;' we lack the trust which a child should
have in a father, and the confidence that in all things he will
be guided, not by caprice, or self-interest, or temporary unkind-
ness — but always, and without exception, by perfect sincerity,
by wisdom infinite, and by love unchangeable.

Nor are all equally endowed as to mental gifts, for there is
every diversity; and it seems hard that some should appear
to be cursed with special proclivities to evil, as it were, from

Ii8 Nezv Studies in Christian Theology.

their very organization, while in others the soul is clouded and
incapable of expansion from a mere defect in the shaping of
its receptacle. These are, indeed, trials and puzzles, only to
be removed by faith — by a firm trust and reliance that our
Father knows it, and forgets it not ; that there is One who has
not chosen it, but permitted it for special ends He has in view;
and that out of it He will work good. In the case of those
whose difficulties arise from an inherited or organic defect, we
must regard it as something not without its use — a special form
of temptation or trial, perhaps, which may or may not be re-
sisted, but whose resistance cannot fail to work beneficially.
Thus says the Apostle to the Hebrews : 'Wherefore ... let us
lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset
us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us,
looking unto Jesus, the Author and Finisher of our faith '
(Heb. xiii. i). We are all weighted, more or less, for none are
perfect ; each has his weakness — his sin, to which he is more
prone than to others; but with the knowledge of it comes the
desire to throw it off; and the knowledge comes with self-
examination. We are a fallen race in more senses than one —
fallen by hereditary sin, and doubtless fallen by the frailty of
our bodies ; and much of the evil and misery of the world are
due to the accumulated influences of evil in the soul, which
have thrown their fatal shadow upon a diseased and imperfect
organization. And for those unfortunates whose souls are be-
nighted, entirely apart from their own responsibility or blame,
can we not trust our heavenly Father for justice, at least such
as we look for from an earthly father? If such are tended
with loving hands on earth, may we not be sure they will be
looked on with pity from heaven ? and their martyrdom to an
hereditary evil ended, and the soul emancipated from its sin-
bound dwelling, will they not be as children, their souls a
virgin page, and their robes as pure as was the leprous body of
Naaman, which, after dipping seven times in Jordan, became
like that of a little child ? ' If ye then, being evil, know how
to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall

'Behold the Foivls of Ihc Air' 119

your Father which is in heaven give good things to them that
ask Him?' (Matt. vii. 11).

But it must not be forgotten that this impUcit reliance upon
God (should it be ever granted to us), does not release us from
duties, from action, or from the performance of deeds in our own
behalf, any more than in behalf of others. It might be that
such a faith becomes degenerated to a mere excuse for idleness
and sloth, ' Cast all your care upon Him ' does not mean that
we are to exercise no care for ourselves. ' Take no thought for
the morrow ' does not mean that we are to be careless and in-
different what becomes of us, and to throw all responsibility
upon an unseen power. These are the errors of fanatics and
unpractical devotees, who, through a weakness of intelligence,
and a fallacious sophism, contrive to put a literal interpretation
upon a favourite passage, and entirely disregard the context.
To what follies has not this given rise in all ages, and among
all sects, from Brahminism to Roman Catholicism ! To what
bootless self-macerations, and self-tortures !

The Sermon on the Mount is regarded by some as unpractical
and impossible, simply from this contracted view, taken in a
more or less mistaken sense even by men of high intelligence,
but yet who may in all cases be shown to have grave deficiences
in their mental training or constitution. For the Sermon on the
Mount is like the Christian religion generally — it lies not in the
letter, but in the spirit. The Sermon on the Mount, taken solely
in the letter, would be unpractical and impossible in a work-a-day
world ; but taken in the spirit it has the beauty of holiness —
it is the essence of true morality — the unfailing guide of the
Christian's life. It does not teach us to rest, like lotos-eaters,
in a garden of careless ease ; nor does it demand that we
should render ourselves systematically miserable and unhappy
as an article of faith or doctrine ; but it teaches us that of two
ways, one is good, and the other is bad ; it teaches us to eschew
the evil and to choose the good ; it supplements our interior
conscience, and enforces right where our conscience wavers ;
it meets every case, because it is spiritual in its nature ; it is

120 Neiv Studies in Christian Theology.

infallible and perfect, because it is Divine. True, all cannot
use it equally ; it is not to all the same infallible guide — simply
because all are not equally schooled — all are not equally ad-
vanced in the heavenly life. But the more they progress
therein, the more valuable and essential it becomes to them,
the more precious, the more beloved. And to such, it is clear
that no merely passive obedience to it is required — but an
active and living acknowledgment and co-operation. The birds
of the air do not sow nor reap, it is true, but they are not idle ;
they do not, although dependent upon their Maker for food,
sit and mope and expect it to be thrust into their mouths \ the
food is there for them to seek, and they seek it, and are
satisfied.

So should we also actively apply our faculties in the way
intended by our Father ; so should we exercise an active trust
in Him who will never fail us at our need ; so should we ever
seek, and ask, and knock. For in this same universal code
we read : ' Ask, and it shall be given you ; seek, and ye shall
find ; knock, and it shall be opened unto you. For everyone
that asketh, receiveth; and he that seeketh, findeth; and to
him that knocketh, it shall be opened ' (Matt. vii. 7, 8).

LECTURE XV.

THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT {continued).

8. The Houses built on the Rock and on the Sand.

' Therefore whosoever heareth these sayings of Mine, and doeth them, I
will liken him unto a wise man, which built his house upon a rock : and
the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon
that house ; and it fell not : for it was founded upon a i^ock. And everyone
that heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth them not, shall be likened
unto a foolish man, which built his house upon the sand : and the rain
descended, and the floods came, and the wind blew, and beat upon that
house ; and it fell : and great was the fall thereof.' — Matt, vii, 24-27.

A NEW era in the history of the world was inaugurated when
our Lord had preached the Sermon on the Mount. The old
morality, which had been inculcated from time immemorial,
received thereby its death-blow, and a new doctrine, no
less remarkable than novel, was announced in its place.
Hitherto there had not been wanting teachers, who, with en-
lightened minds, and with humane dispositions, had proclaimed
that a man best fulfilled the duties of life, not only by showing
mercy and compassion to his fellow-creatures, but also by de-
voting his best abilities to the amelioration of their condition.
But in the Sermon on the Mount, our Lord for the first time
taught that entire self-abnegation which is the distinctive cha-
racter of the Christian religion. Former philosophers, who
had been conspicuous for the breadth of their views, and the
comprehensiveness of their charity, had taught up to the
standard of their own natural lights ; they had been men ad-
mirable in every sense of the word, who had, by their own
God-imparted tenderness of heart towards their fellow-creatures,

122 Nezv Studies in Christian TJieology.

stretched out their arms towards the light, and had received a
measure of that illumination of their understandings which had
enabled them to proclaim true and noble axioms and exhorta-
tions, as the result of their heaven-directed aspirations and
contemplations ; and the world owes an immeasurable debt of
gratitude to these old philosophers — whether they be Con-
fucius in China, or Buddha in India, or Zoroaster in Persia, or
Plato and Socrates in Greece — for these men, each in his turn,
fanned and kept alive the spark of virtue and morality, which
had doubtless added many a myriad to the host of those who
worship around the great white throne. Such men are in every
country among the chiefs of those who stand out like beacon-
lights in the history of great nations, and have attracted by the
blamelessness of their lives, and by the inherent beauty of their
philosophy, all those who, in their day, loved mercy, and did
justice, and who, according to the measure of knowledge granted
to them, lived in holiness, and walked in singleness of heart.

But these illustrious men — who lived in times of darkness,
and were surrounded by heathen nations for the most part
idolatrous and immersed in the grossest naturalism — were but
imperfect exponents of the great principles of truth, and justice,
and mercy, which it was their delight to inculcate. Yet although
members of heathen and idolatrous communities, their minds
were too elevated to share in the grossnesses of the ignorant
and uncultivated people around them ; their minds saw God
as a great, supreme, and spiritual Being ; although they had no
sufficient revelation to enable them to proclaim all His glorious
attributes of love and wisdom, as we know them at this day.
They were heathen, though not idolaters — and we cannot help
feeling that these men must have been, in their day, recipients
to some extent, of a special outpouring of Divine influence;
that they received — though not without measure (as only Christ
could do)— but yet in some measure, a portion of the Holy
Spirit of God, for the especial purpose of keeping alive in the
midst of vast heathen, though civilized, communities, the know-
ledge of the great principles of good and truth — and the desire to

The Houses built on the Rock and on the Sand. 123

follow, though it might be afar off, the great exemplar whom
they but dimly saw through the darkness of surrounding igno-
rance, and through the mist of coming centuries.

But that which these men saw dimly — that which they groped
for with a certain modest measure of success, stood forth re-
vealed in all its brightness of truth, and in all its glory of Divine
signification, when our Lord preached his Sermon on the
Mount. Then for the first time were codified, as it were, all
the maxims of the purest moraUty, all the axioms of elevating
philosophy and ennobling virtue, with which men had at any
time become acquainted ; but they were refined by the infusion
Into them of a spirit of Divine Truth, purged of all that lingered
in them of self, or of the baseness of an earthly dross, purified
of all that was false in principle or imperfect in practice, and
spiritualized by their direct emanation from the Source of aU
light, the Spring of all intelligence, and the Fountain of all
wisdom. In this wonderful discourse we have, not dogmas to
make men clever polemics, not even doctrine to make them
wise theologians, but plain rules for holy living, simple and un.
erring directions for the conduct of Christian walk and conver-
sation, spiritual food for the daily life and needs of the soul,
and an infallible guide for all those whose pure desire it is to
obey the dictates of a good heart, and to walk humbly with
their God.

Well might His hearers have been astonished at His doctrine
— well might they exclaim, ' Never man spake like this man !'
For not only did He teach them what was good and upright —
not only did He inculcate virtue, and justice, and spirituality,
and humiUty — not only did He say, * He that hath ears to
hear, let him hear !' but He also laid it upon them that it be-
hoved them to be not hearers only of His words, but doers
also ; and when He had, at length, concluded His Divine
sermon. He more strongly than ever affirms this absolute neces-
sity in the concluding words of His great exhortation.

How easy it is to hear the words of wisdom ! How naturally
they flow into our outward understanding ! How much they

124 iWte.' Studies in Christian Theology.

commend themselves to our judgment ! and with what avidity
do many of us Hsten to the honeyed accents which convey to
our minds the conviction of truth ! All of us who are educated
and cultivated profess to be seekers after truth ; all of us would
be glad to drink from a fountain of truth, and to store our
minds with suggestive wisdom. And Truth is of so fascinating
a nature that the more we possess of it, the more we desire it ;
for that which we do possess only suggests further glimpses of
that which lies beyond. But the truth which most men so
earnestly covet, is abstract truth — truth which shall enrich their
minds and understandings ; intellectual truth, which is doubt-
less excellent in its degree, but which may be, according to the
constitution of our minds, and too often is, entirely separated
from good.

There is, however, another kind of truth of a widely different
nature, no less attractive, no less fascinating, but which carries
with it also results of a supreme character, and responsibihties
of the highest importance. I mean, of course. Spiritual Truth.
Of this, in fact, it may be said, that while it embraces all other
truth, it is the soul of which Natural Truth is but the body,
and lifeless, without the animating principle of spiritual truth.
For all Truth is from the same Divine Source ; but the natural,
divorced from the spiritual, is no less useless and dead, than is
the material body without its animating soul. Spiritual truth
is far-reaching, all-embracing ; spiritual truth is not the end
alone, but the means and the end too, by which we may be
born, and by which we may live ; spiritual truth carries with it
grave responsibilities, for the possession of it makes or mars a
man in proportion as he uses or misuses it — profits by it, or
neglects it ; spiritual truth must not be received into the
external understanding only, it must be brought forth also into
the hfe. In a word, the receiver of spiritual truth is bound not
to be a hearer only, but he must also be a doer of it.

Our Lord has left us a series of discourses, of which we have
the pith and marrow given us by jNIatthew, in the 5th, 6th and
7th chapters of his Gospel. We cannot suppose that those

TJie Houses built ou the Rock aud on the Satid. 125

three brief chapters contain all that our Lord told the multi-
tudes on these occasions. Doubtless His sayings, which to us,
even, are not always at first well understood, addressed as they
were to a people to whom they were entirely new and startling,
were illustrated, as His manner was, by parables, and by
striking appeals, such as He could so well thrust home to the
hearts of His hearers. He did not leave Himself without wit-
ness, and if He said sometimes what seemed a hard saying. He
seldom left it in its naked difficulty, but, at all events as far as the
comprehension and spirit of his hearers would allow. He opened
its inner sense to them. So in this Sermon on the Mount, while
much that He told them is not set down in the Gospel narra-
tive, all the main features of it are doubtless represented, and
we have in it a body of spiritual truth, such as is fully sufficient
to indicate and characterize the Christian doctrine ; and if put
into practice, to carry the Christian safely through this proba-
tionary state to the haven of his desires. Independently of its
spiritual and internal signification, which can be seen only in
proportion as one is in a spiritual condition, there is a spirit in
its very letter which all may perceive — the spirit of justice and
of mercy, the spirit of holiness and godliness, the spirit of
purity and meekness, the spirit of genuineness and truth, the
spirit of love and trust, the spirit of self-denial and of self-devo-
tion ; and which rose up in judgment against the prevalent
hypocrisy and self-righteousness of the Scribes and Pharisees
who were among its carping but conscience-stricken hearers.

To all His sayings the multitude had listened with profound
attention ; their understanding comprehending, it may be
often but dimly, the bearing and drift of His instruction ; their
affections, in many cases, also doubtless moved by the prin-
ciples of goodness and truth which appealed to something in
their inmost natures, which had hitherto lain dormant for want
of some soul-piercing sound, which the hollow teaching of the
synagogues had failed to afford. ' The common people heard
Him gladly' — they who were to a certain extent unsophisticated,
unspoiled ; unlike their teachers, whose hard and self-reliant

126 Neiv Studies in Christian Theology.

intellects had been trained into conflict with the affections of
the will, and whose unyielding minds, in the pride of self-
derived and self-appropriated intelligence, stood, strangers to
humility, upon a vainglorious pinnacle, from which they over-
looked the true principles of wisdom blended with meekness
and self-negation, which those only could perceive who sat at
the feet of Jesus. These saw the truth ; they saw the difference
between the shadow and the reality, between the spurious and
the genuine, between the false and the true : and they said,
' This man teaches with authority, and not as the Scribes.'

Therefore did our Lord, ere He brought his teachings to a
conclusion, by a forcible comparison, impress upon His hearers,
that it was not enough that they should be hearers of His
doctrines ; that it was not enough that His sayings should
commend themselves to their understandings ; but that the
very hearing of these sayings had brought with it a responsi-
bility. He did not simply tell them that the mere hearing of
His words would be of no benefit to any; so that unless they did
them, they might as well not have heard them ; but He declared,
that while he who heard them and did them also, was as one
whose house was builded upon a rock ; the man who heard
them and did them not, was as one who built a house indeed,
but a house which was destined to fall — one which must,
sooner or later, inevitably collapse, and be brought to ruin ;
and when it did fall, great would be the fall thereof!

Such is the solemn teaching of our text, and this we will
endeavour further to elucidate in what remains of this Lecture.

However irrational it may seem to most of us, that of those
who heard Him preach, any should have thought it unneces-
sary to carry into practice the precepts of our Lord, it would
appear still more strange that any should be found in these
days who are in a similar passive condition. And yet what is
more common at the present time than that men should know
the truth, and yet be averse to practise it ? Who does not
know the truth among us ? What man in a Christian land can
pretend that he is not ac([uainted with the teachings of the

TJie Houses built on the Rock and on the Sand. 1 27

Gospel ? Men arxd women receive these teachings with their
mother's milk ; but in how 'io.sN do they penetrate beyond the
understanding ! in how few do they reach the heart ! Our
Lord left free the wills of His hearers. It was no part of His
providential scheme to force their inclinations, or to bind their
affections in unison with their intellects. ' If ye love Me, ye
will keep My commandments,' not otherwise ; and love is not
to be forced any more than it is to be purchased. No love is
worth having, or is worthy of the name, which is not free and
spontaneous ; so that although the Lord could control the
affections as easily as He enlightens the intellect, He does not
do so ; He only sets before men the beauty of truth, and points
out the responsibilities they incur if they refuse to accept and
embrace it, and then he leaves them to choose. Doubtless,
He does this not once or twice — He does it so often, so
lovingly, so persuasively, and so earnestly, that the man who
refuses to hear is without excuse.

But this unwillingness to do as well as to hear, is not charac-
teristic of any particular age, or of any special Church. It is
the great failing of our nature, which is pleased with the glitter
of great truths which flatter the understanding ; which readily
embraces the intellectual conquest of a difficulty heretofore ob-
scure ; which delights in widening the area of its view of the
causes of things ; and, in short, is willing to receive Truth to
any extent, so long as it does not entail trouble and responsi-
bility. That is another matter; that is irksome and undesir-
able, and so the talent lies hidden in a napkin, and brings forth
no fruit.

Nor is this apathy a feature of the individual only, but this
it is, which has so blanched the life, so paralyzed the energies
of the so-called Church, whose sandy foundation is laid upon
that unscriptural, false, and dead doctrine of faith alone. What
an easy doctrine is this ! How it commends itself to the care-
less, the indifferent, the indolent, the worldly-minded ! How
simple, and how convenient ! Only have faith— only believe
— and the rigliteousness of Christ (say they) will be imputed

128 Neiu Studies in Christian Theology.

to you. What could be more satisfactory ? what could more
comfortably meet the requirements of those whose under-
standings are touched, whose intellects are soothed, by the
recognition of the principles of goodness and truth; but whose
affections remain unswayed, whose passions remain untamed
and uncurbed, and whose worldly and evil lives take new
license from their false security, and their vaunted immunity ?
These are they of whom He says : ' And why call ye Me Lord,
and do not the things that I say ?' These are they who make
the Word of God of none effect — who stultify the teachings of
our Lord ; the dead members of a dead Church. True it is
that without faith it is impossible to please God (Heb. xi. 6) —
true it is that faith cometh by hearing — and hearing, by the
Word of God (Rom. x. 17); but it is no less true that faith
without works is dead, being alone (James ii. 17), and 'though
a man say he hath faith, and have not works — can faith save
him?' asks the Apostle (James ii. 14). And common-sense,
no less than the most exalted reason, and the whole tenour of
revelation consentaneously thunder NO ! Yet it is not diffi-
cult to lull men's minds into a condition of security. The
carnal mind finds it a suitable doctrine ; men are ready to
meet it half-way ; and thus it falls out that when their spiri-
tual advisers, their pastors and teachers set it before them, and
preach it unreservedly to them, they eagerly embrace it, to the
destruction of true religion, and to the signal hindrance of
Christ's kingdom upon earth.

For a true Religion and a true Church should demand of its
members that its doctrines and principles should not only
remain enshrined in the understanding, but should also be
brought into the life. Following in all things the precepts of
our Lord, not so much in their literal as in their true and
spiritual sense, such a Church should bind all who come within
its influence to be not hearers only, but doers of the Word —
and also consistent and hearty doers ; with no mental reserva-
tions, no indolent shifts, no hypocritical shams. Having that
true light that enlighteneth every man ; having clearly demon-

The Houses built on tJie Rock and on the Sand. 1 29

strated to its members that God is a Spirit — it should also
enjoin upon every man in the most binding manner, that they
who worship Him must worship Him in spirit and in truth.

If there were no other passage in the whole Bible, expressive
of these views, the concluding verses of Matthew vii. would
be sufficient to establish them beyond dispute. They are here
so clearly enunciated, so forcibly illustrated, and at the same
time so indisputably genuine, that they should carry conviction
to the minds of everyone. It is our Lord Himself who is
speaking ; it is the application He Himself enforces, by most
powerful similes, as the end and moral of the most wonderful
discourse which was ever heard by human ears. And what
says He? 'Therefore, whosoever heareth these sayings of
Mine, and doeth them, I will liken him to a wise man, who
built his house upon a rock.' He, our Saviour, would liken
him to a wise man.

When Solomon, in his unspoiled innocence, first sat upon
the throne of his father David, he confessed hiu'iself but a little
child, and in reply to the Lord's gracious invitation : ' Ask
what I shall give thee,' he said, ' Give thy servant an under-
standing heart.' And God commended him, that he had not
asked for riches and honour; and gave him, not only a wise
and understanding heart, but also honour and riches and
length of days — provided he would walk in His laws, to keep
them. ' Seek ye first,' says our blessed Saviour (Matt. vi. 33),
' the kingdom of God, and His righteousness ; and all these
things shall be added unto you.'

The test here applied by our Lord to the man's wisdom is,
that he built his house upon a rod'. What more stable than a
rock ! a solid, immovable rock — part and parcel of the firmly-
founded earth ! How often does the Psalmist rejoice and sing
of the Rock of his salvation ! ' Thou art my strong rock, and
my fortress ;' ' God only is my rock ;' ' the rock of my strength ;'
' God is the rock of my heart, and my portion for ever ;' ' the
rock of my refuge ;' 'be Thou unto me for a rock of habitation ;'
' Who is a rock save our God ?' In all these and other pas-

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130 Nezv Studies in Christian Theology.

sages he recognises the strength and impregnability of God as
a defence to those who put their trust in Him ; just as, in a
rocky country hke Palestine, the rocks were places of refuge
to which they fled for safety, in case of any sudden attack of
an enemy.

But there is a yet deeper meaning in the expression ' Rock '
— a meaning which was recognised long before — and in the
song of Moses, in Deuteronomy xxxii. 2-4, he exclaims : ' My
doctrine shall drop as the rain, my speech shall distil as the dew,
as the small rain upon the tender herb, and as the showers
upon the grass ; because I will publish the name of the Lord ;
ascribe ye greatness unto our God. He is the Rock, His work
is perfect; for all His ways are judgment : a God of truth and
without iniquity, just and right is He.' Here we have indi-
cated that which is the correct interpretation of the word Rock
in all parts of Scripture. It signifies Truth — and the Lord is
called the Rock, because He is Truth itself. From the Rock
of Horeb, water was made to flow, because water corresponds
to Truth, and represents that living water of which our Lord
said : ' Whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him
shall never thirst, but the water that I shall give him shall be
in him a well of water springing up into everlasting life '
(John iv. 14).

When Simon Peter gave utterance to that great, and ever-
lasting, and all-important truth, ' Thou art the Christ, the Son
of the living God,' Jesus said unto him, ' Thou art Peter, and
upon this 7-ock I will build my Church ; and the gates of hell
shall not prevail against it ' (Matt. xvi. iS). Not that our Lord
built His Church upon a man — still less so upon so frail an
one as Peter. The gates of hell did prevail against Peter, at
least for the time ; for with cursing and swearing he denied his
Lord ; but our Lord made Peter a representative of the rock
on which His Church was to be built, changing His name from
Simon (which meant obedience) to Peter (which meant a rock).
But the rock our Lord referred to was not the mortal man, Peter
— but the cardinal truth which he confessed ; a truth which flesh

The Houses built on the Roek and on the Sand. 1 31

and blood had not revealed, but the Father which is in heaven;
no mere perishable and material rock, but the eternal and
spiritual Rock, ' and that Rock was Christ ' (i Cor. \. 4).

This then is the Rock upon which the wise man is to build ;
this is the sure foundation which alone can give stability and
solidity ; this is the foundation which our Lord recommends as
that alone which will not fail a man in the hour of need. As
saith the Apostle Paul (i Cor. iii. 11), 'For other foundation
can no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus Christ'

It is to be observed that our Lord likens him who heareth
and doeth His sayings to a wise man who not merely reposed
in the safety and security of this rock, but who built a house
upon it — that is to say, who steadily, step by step, raised an
edifice upon it. Brick by brick, stone by stone, and tier by
tier, he raised it above the rock, which was its foundation,
crowning it with a goodly roof, and putting the corner-stone to
a durable and solid habitation. And just as a man builds a
house in this world, of earthly and temporary materials, in
which he may dwell as to his earthly body, so does he build
another house of spiritual materials which shall last for ever,
'a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens' (2 Cor.
V. i). Step by step, by appropriating the goods and truths of
the Word, by the practice of the spiritual virtues of love to the
Lord and love to his neighbour, by singleness of heart, by the
firm resistance of temptation, and by the exercise of Christian
graces, and all things proper for edificatioji, he builds up an
edifice, which shall be prepared for him in the world to come,
where he shall find his spiritual edifice transformed into a
mansion of gold and crystal and precious stones, which are the
spiritual correspondencies of goodness and faith and truth.

Such a house as this, built on a rock, is alone fitted to with-
stand the shocks and the batteries of spiritual enemies. For
as a man's house here must be of such a character as to defy
the conflicts of the elements — the wind, the rain, and the flood ;
solid enough to resist the gusts of winter storms, the washing
of autumnal rains; strong enough in its base to be proof against

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132 New Studies in Christian Theology.

the sapping of its foundations by the resistless and unlooked-
for flood ; so must his spiritual habitation be strong enough to
bear the assaults of temptations and suggestions of evil and
falsity represented by these forces of nature. The rains here
referred to are not those gentle showers and refreshing dews
which denote the truths of peace and the blessings of innocence
— but downpours of desolating falsities which try the soul with
threats of destruction of its faith : the winds which beat upon
the house are not those soft breezes and fanning zephyrs which
represent the life of heaven flowing in from Jehovah — but storms
of fantasies and cupidities which assault the soul, and would,
if they prevailed, lead to its utter destruction : and the floods
which would sap the foundations, are not those genial overflows
of grace which bring forth into life, and fructify, the dormant
seeds of love and wisdom in the soul — but inundations of false
persuasions, direful temptations, and evil influences, which
would entirely immerse the soul, and suffocate its remains of
good even to spiritual extinction, were they not provided
against by a firm and solid foundation upon the Rock of
Divine Truth.

Such are the benefits which the wise man derives from build-
ing his house upon a rock ; for in spite of all these temptations,
it fell not Nothing else could preserve it from destruction but
trust in the Lord, ' looking unto Jesus, who is the Author and
finisher of our faith.' And if we thus look to Him, not trusting
to our own strength, He will not suffer us to be tempted above
that we are able, but will with the temptation also make a way
to escape, that we may be able to bear it ; and that thus our
rock-founded house may stand.

But the foolish man heareth, and doeth not, and all is other-
wise with him. The Word has entered into his understanding,
but it has no hold upon his heart. Temptations confront him,
and having no stability, he yields ; the powers of darkness
assail him, and having no rock of defence, he falls an easy
prey. He is one who seeking his own advantage, has dis-
honoured God, and of such He says, ' They that despise Me

The Houses built on the Rock and on the Sand. 133

shall be lightly esteemed' (i Sam. ii. 30). 'Wherefore saith
the Lord, Forasmuch as this people draw near Me witL their
mouth, and honour Me with their lips, but have removed their
heart far from Me, therefore the wisdom of their wise men
shall perish, and the understanding of their prudent men shall
be hid' (Isa. xxix. 13). These are the wicked, of whom the
patriarch Job declares, ' Hast thou marked the old way which
wicked men have trodden ? which were cut down out of time,
whose foundation was overflown with a flood' (Job xxii. 15, 16).
These are they in which the Word taketh no root, ' who, if they
for a while believe, yet in time of temptation fall away ;' whose
foundation is laid on the shifting sand of an isolated verbal
faith, and mere intellectual science ; and whose superstructure
therefore is probably little better than wood, hay, or stubble.
Of such an edifice, a wall daubed with untempered mortar, and
its destruction, the Prophet Ezekiel gives a vivid picture (in
xiii. 13, 14), 'Therefore thus saith the Lord God, I will even
rend it with a stormy wind in My fury ; and there shall be an
overflowing shower in Mine anger, and great hailstones in My
fury to consume it. So wiU I break down the wall that ye
have daubed with untempered mortar, and bring it down to
the ground, so that the foundation thereof shall be discovered,
and it shall fall, and ye shall be consumed in the midst thereof :
and ye shall know that I am the Lord.'

How consistent are all these statements ; how they all agree
with our Lord's teaching, and tend to show us that however
we may attempt to deceive ourselves — however much we may
soothe our consciences with this opiate of an unproductive and
unfructifying faith, the truth stands written against us in words
which nothing can efface. When a certain woman lifted up
her voice to bear witness to the wondrous teaching of our
Lord, and said unto Him, 'Blessed is the womb that bare
Thee, and the paps which Thou hast sucked,' He said, ' Yea
rather, blessed are they that hear the word of God, and keep
it' (Luke xi. 27, 28). Not once, nor twice does our Lord
declare this to us. It is a cardinal fact — a doctrinal axiom.

134 N'eii' Studies in Christian TJicoIogy.

* If ye know these things, happy are ye if ye do ihein^ (John
xiii. 17).

Blessed, happy, wise ; these are the words our Lord applies
to those who hear and do ! Who would not be among the
number of those blessed who hear the Word of God, and keep it
— of those happy who know the things of God, and do them —
of those 7vise who build their house upon a rock ; so that, in
the words of the Prophet Isaiah (lix. 19), 'When the enemy
shall come in like a flood, the Spirit of the Lord shall lift up a
standard against him.'

LECTURE XVI.

*I AM THE BREAD OF LIFE.'

'They said therefore unto Him, What sign showest Thou then, that) we may
see, and beheve Thee ? what dost Thou work ? Our Fathers did eat
manna in the desert ; as it is written, He gave them bread from heaven to
eat. Then Jesus said unto them, Verily, verily, I say unto you, Moses gave
you not that bread from heaven, but My Father giveth you the true bread
from heaven. For the bread of God is He which cometh down from
heaven, and giveth Ufe unto the world. Then said they unto Him, Lord,
evermore give us this bread.' — ^John vi. 30-34.

There is perhaps no greater prpof of the hardness of heart,
and of the unbelief of the people with whom our Lord had to
deal, than is afforded by the words of the first of these verses.
One would imagine that He had given them no proof of His
superiority — no sign that He was not as other men. For they
ask Him, saying, * What sign showest Thou, that we may see
and believe?' They claimed the low standard of belief of
the Apostle Thomas. They professed that, seeing, they would
believe — and yet they forgot that they had already seen, and
yet had not believed. For had the Lord shown no sign ? Had
He done no work, that they thus taunted Him ? Do we not
read, even in the record of this same Evangelist, St. John, that
a beginning of miracles had been done by Him, at Cana of
Galilee, when the water became a rich wine at His command ?
— that here He manifested forth His glory — and with what
result ? We read that His disciples believed on Him. This
wonder, so strange and unusual — so craved for by the carping
Jews, caused, after all, no feeling of belief in their hearts. It
was only the disciples, already His in heart, whose belief was

136 Nezv Studies in Christian Theology.

confirmed by the miracles. The Samaritans, even, believed
when they heard His marvellous talk with the woman at the
well ; but when, a little later. He had miraculously healed the
nobleman's son at Capernaum — when He had restored the im-
potent man at the pool of Bethesda, who had been a cripple
for thirty-eight years — these thankless and stiff-necked Jews still
asked Him, ' What sign showest Thou then, that we may see
and believe Thee ? what dost Thou work ?' Truly might
our blessed Lord then have said, as He said upon another
occasion, ' If they will not believe Moses and the prophets,
neither will they believe though one rose from the dead.' ^

Again, those who thus carpingly opposed our Lord, continue
their objections by saying, ' Our fathers did eat manna in the
desert ; as it is written, He gave them bread from heaven to
eat.' By bringing forward this triumph of their ancient leader,
they evidently intended to draw an unfavourable comparison
between Jesus and Moses ; they could not bear the idea that
this man, born among themselves, should carry off the palm ;
nor, indeed, would they allow that there was any virtue in Him.
They said, in effect, ' Who art Thou, compared with Moses,
who led our forefathers through the desert, and brought them
to the promised land ?' — or as, on another occasion, they ex-
claimed, ' Art Thou greater than our father Abraham ?' And
yet how foolish — how illogical were their complaints and
taunts ! True, when they would otherwise have starved in the
desert, the Lord had said to Moses, 'Behold I will rain bread
from heaven for you ' (Ex, xvi. 4), but Moses nowhere claimed
to have given the manna himself. And moreover, the discon-
tented people so little valued the heaven-sent food, that they
complained, saying, ' Who shall give us flesh to eat ? We re-
member the fish which we did eat in Egypt freely — the cucum-
bers, and the melons, and the leeks, and the onions, and the
garlic. But now our soul is dried away : there is nothing at
all beside this manna before our eyes ' (Numb. xi. 4, 6).
Yet now they can say, ''Our fathers did eat manna in the
desert ; as it is written, He gave them bread from heaven to

'/ avi the Bread of Life.' 137

eat ' — and could appeal to this miracle against the claims of
the Messiah.

If, however, we turn to the beginning of this very chapter of
St. John, we shall find a narrative of how a great multitude
from the cities and villages, having followed our Lord up the
mountain to hear His teaching, were in danger of being starved
from their own improvidence in not having taken bread with
them ; and how our Lord, having found one with five barley-
loaves and two small fishes, miraculously fed them, five thousand
in number, with this scanty store — so that they w-ere not only all
satisfied, but twelve baskets were filled with the fragments that
remained over ! Here was bread from heaven ! not sent
through an intermediary, like Moses — but brought directly
down by Him who was Himself the Bread of Life ; so that
those who saw this miracle that Jesus did, were fain to exclaim,
* This is of a truth that prophet that should come into the world.'

It is evident, therefore, that the mere feeding of the material
body, even by a miracle, has no power to change the heart;
and this gives our Saviour good cause to show what is the
nature and the meaning of that true bread, the Bread of Life,
which He came to bring ; and which He was now willing and
anxious to give to all such as would accept it at His hands.

Miracles, indeed, appealing as they do, for the most part, to
the senses, ever fail to convince the heart. It is not always
that they reach the understanding, even as in the case before
us. For they were of no avail to convince the incredulous
and undetermined ; they had no power to bend the stubborn
wills and inclinations of those who wished not to believe ; and
the miracles of Cana and Capernaum, no more than the feeding
of the multitude, produced not the slightest effect upon their
minds. Nevertheless many believed on Him, seeing the
mighty works which He did; and, for the sake of these many,
our Lord still performed some signs and wonders — such as we
call miracles, because we are not able to take so wide a survey
of their operation, as to embrace them in our narrow compre-
hension of the scheme of Divine order.

138 Nezv Studies in Christian Theology.

But to shut out miracles altogether from belief — not as a
stiff-necked Jew, but as an educated and liberal-minded Chris-
tian,— is to reduce the Divine order to the calibre of human
short-sighted perception — to narrow the infinite within the
circle of the finite — to cut away the ground from spiritual belief
— to undermine the very basis of Christian faith. It is to say,
' This cannot be, because I cannot follow the stages by which
it is alleged to be accomplished 3' or * This is impossible,
because it is beyond viy comprehension.' It is to limit the
powers of Jehovah, and to claim for human judgment the
censorship of the Divine workings. It is to reduce spirit to
the dead level of matter — to bring down Heaven to the mate-
rial basis of Earth. And yet there are to be found men at this
day, who feel themselves called upon to deny the Incarnation,
because it savours of the miraculous ; forgetting that the uni-
verse is a miracle — that all around them is beyond their power
to explain — not to be imitated by art, and therefore miraculous ;
that they themselves are, and every man is, a standing miracle,
confuting their narrow theories, and laughing to scorn all their
petty cavillings and unworthy disbeliefs ; each proclaiming aloud
the superhuman, miraculous, and almighty power of God.

But the miracles of our Lord had other ends, beside that of
converting the simple-minded, and establishing in the hearts of
men an irresistible belief in His Divine mission. Each miracle,
besides having a temporal aim of good to mankind, had also a
spiritual intention, which might be applied as a lesson to the
soul ; each miracle was a material type of spiritual things ;
each a correspondence of something higher and more divine ;
by each miracle our Lord appeals, through bodily healing, to
the healing of the soul — or by means of bodily nourishment to
the nutrition of the soul. And more particularly was this the
case with that miracle which commences this chapter of St.
John. In this case our Lord had miraculously caused a multi-
tude of five thousand persons to be amply fed by a modicum
of bread, originally not more than sufficient for a dozen of
them. Their bodily wants had been supplied, their cravings

'/ am the Bread of Life! 139

of hunger appeased, by a means beyond their comprehension.
Some of them perhaps called to mind the time when their
fathers wandered famished in the desert, and there appeared
upon the ground a ' small round thing, as small as the hoar-
frost . . like coriander seed, white ; and the taste of it was like
wafers made with honey.' The Psalmist, referring to it in the
ySth Psalm (ver. 24), says He 'had rained down manna upon
them to eat, and had given them of the corn of heaven ;' and
in the 105th Psalm (ver, 40), it is expressed that ' He satisfied
them with the bread of heaven.' This it is which is quoted in
our text.

But if the manna of the wilderness was the bread of heaven,
no less was that bread from heaven which our Lord produced
from the small stock of five barley loaves, and which, like
the widow's cruse of oil, failed not, until it had satisfied the
whole multitude. The Jews, ever blind to anything of a spiritual
nature, saw not the wonderful resemblance between the two
miracles; they could not perceive the parallelism between
the starving multitude in the desert, and the famishing crowd
which had followed Jesus away from the towns and villages, up
to a desert mountain ; yet were the one and the other, equally,
types of one great truth or lesson, for which the time had now
arrived that it should be fulfilled in its antitype.

Bread from heaven, to nourish failing bodies ! Bread from any-
where is good, when a man is fasting ; but bread from heaven
would, in itself, be a superfluity — an inconsistency. From earth
be the things of earth — from heaven the things of heaven. Starv-
ing man looks not for bread to fall from heaven — nor is there
in the nature and order of things such heavenly bread to feed
hungry bodies. If it has pleased God that on a special occasion
He would send such bread, it was not that we should look to
heaven for the staff of material life — but to point out that what
bread is to the earthly and material body, such is the Divine
Word to the spiritual soul : to shadow forth that He who could
miraculously supply food for famishing and starving bodies,
could also feed with heavenly Bread all such hungry souls who

140 Neiv Studies in Christian Theology.

would come to Him, and receive at His hands the Bread of
eternal and spiritual Life.

For the soul, like the body, of which it is the inhabitant,
needs strengthening and refreshing. If the body is deprived of
its natural food, it languishes, and dies of inanition — so also if
the soul is cut off from a due supply of heavenly nourishment,
it, of necessity, dwarfs and shrinks, and would die ; not, like
the body, by a process of physical death, but by that second
death, which we are assured is far worse ; a living death — a
death of which it is conscious, and from which yet it cannot
recover — from which it can never be restored to life, unless by
the intervention of Him who in Himself is the resurrection
and the life.

But the Jews, natural-minded as they were, knew little of
such spiritual bread. They claimed for Moses, their leader
and patriarch, that he brought them that bread from heaven,
which they called manna. For what could be that food which
came, they knew not whence, and fell like the dew from
heaven upon the earth, but heavenly bread ? It was sweet to
the taste, and it nourished them, and that sufficed. 'Our
fathers did eat manna in the desert; as it is written. He gave
them bread from heaven to eat,' as though Moses were the
giver. But Christ corrects the error, saying, ' Verily, verily,
I say unto you, Moses gave you not that bread from heaven.'
Here is an expression which may bear two interpretations :
ist, ' Moses did not give you that bread from heaven. It was
God who sent it by the hand of Moses ;' or 2nd, ' Moses gave
you not that bread from heaven — that was not heavenly bread
for the sustenance of your souls ; that was mere earthly bread
to nourish your bodies.' ' My Father giveth you the true
Bread from heaven. For the Bread of God — the true Bread
from heaven — is He which cometh down from heaven, and
giveth life unto the world.'

Thus He taught them that the true bread from heaven was
of infinitely more importance than that which typified it in the
Mosaic dispensation ; that bread — God-sent, indeed — but

*/ aui the Bread of Life' 141

which was, after all, earthly, temporal, material — suited to the
wants and requirements of their perishable bodies, and no
more. This, in the representative worship of the Jewish
Church of old, was all that He could then give. This He
gave, in pledge, that, in the fulness of time, he would send
them the true Bread from heaven, even Jesus Christ, God in
the flesh — who said of Himself, ' I am that Bread of Life.'

It was a hard saying for that unbelieving age. Would it
have been any easier now? Jesus, the Son of Mary of Naza-
reth, the brother of persons, in one sense obscure, and yet
well known to those who dwelt in those parts ; this man, who
had grown up amongst them — now claimed to be Bread — and
the Bread of Life — come down from heaven ! We can make
allowances for the want of faith and belief exhibited by the
Tews. And yet to those who felt in their hearts the influence
of Christ's teaching — the elevating power of the Sermon on the
Mount — who saw the fulfilment, in Him, of the prophetic
declarations concerning the Messiah, which had been so care-
fully held as the Jewish heritage — who had seen His mighty
works — who had already perceived in their inmost souls the
nourishment aff'orded to their faith — the edification in goodness
and righteousness and true holiness, which accrued to them
from spiritual intercourse with Him : to such, the declaration,
' I am the Bread of Life ' must have come home with the
irresistible power and overwhelming force of an irrefragable
and an eternal Truth. ' The Bread of God is He that cometh
down from heaven, and giveth life unto the world.' As He
said also of Himself, 'I am the Way, the Truth, and the
Life ; whoso believeth on Me shall have eternal life.' For as
the bread of earth can restore life to the man who is dying of
starvation — so can the heavenly Bread give eternal life to that
immortal part of man, which alone can receive it — the soul.
And without that Bread, the soul cannot have life, but must
perish everlastingly.

No wonder that some who were touched in their hearts with
the ofter of so precious a gift — who desired to feed upon this

142 Neiv Studies in Christian TJieology.

heavenly provision, exclaimed, 'Lord, evermore give us this
bread.' For to be constantly supplied with that which shall
ever nourish us with a sufficiency of goodness and truth —
which shall ever keep our souls furnished with all the graces
which should fit us for an eternal citizenship of heaven — what
is that but the highest aspiration, the chiefest end of our ex-
istence ? Ever more give us this Bread — in such quantities,
and in such proportions as may be fitted to each soul's power
of receiving and assimilating — as each has need, and as each
has capacity. Let but the taste for it, and the appetite for it
remain with us, and we shall not fail to have it satisfied. Our
Lord has not forgotten our need of it — nor has He left us a
chance or fear of our ceasing to ask for the necessary supplies,
which we might otherwise have done, if left entirely to our-
selves ; but in His own prayer, which He taught to His dis-
ciples, and which we all use assiduously and frequently, we
daily make our humble petition to Him, ' Give us this day our
daily bread.'

LECTURE XVII.

' I AM THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD.'

' Then spake Jesus again unto them saying, I am the light of the world :
he that followet'h Me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of
life.' — ^JOHN viii. 12.

If, as we have no reason to doubt, there were in the world, and
in the society of that day, men as independent in their thoughts
and ideas as there are at present ; if there were men, as free-
thinking (as it is termed) as now — we need not wonder at the
reception our Lord met with among them. We need not go
any farther than this passage, to account for the envy, hatred,
and malice and all uncharitableness which encountered Him,
and which opposed themselves to teachings so novel, so strange,
and so different from the commonly received opinions of the
world at large. It is, indeed, a- strong evidence of the Divine
mission of our Lord, that, in spite of the greatest difficulties
and drawbacks, His doctrine not only gained ground, without
being immediately and speedily extinguished, but that during
the course of nineteen centuries it has so leavened the world
that all that is great and noble may be said to be its outcome
and its offspring. For He came, originally, when mankind
were least willing to receive Him, and most immersed in self-
worship, and in all those beliefs and vices which were fast
binding them hand and foot, and which rendered His coming
an imperative necessity. It was no golden age of the world
when He appeared amongst men ; it was a leaden age of dul-
ness of spirit — a brazen age of overt iniquity and vice — an iron
age of bondage of men's souls to influences which had accumu-

144 Nciv Studies in Christian Theology.

lated for evil to such an extent that no man was free, nor could
any liberate himself It was an age of hollowness and of hope-
lessness— and men knew it not.

But when the common soul of humanity, as it were, is
plunged into such depths as this, the misfortune is, that there
is so little to work upon in the struggle for reformation. It is
like striving to extract a drowning man from the rotten ice,
which gives way under one's feet at every effort; it is like
trying to pull a man out of a foul morass into which the feet
slide helplessly with every exertion ; and, spiritually considered,
nothing but a superhuman influence — a Divine aid — could pos-
sibly be effective in making any way with the collective souls
of a race so hopelessly entangled, so pitiably fallen.

For the very means necessary to extricate man from this
abyss would only tend to plunge him more deeply in it, unless
used with the utmost care and (if such an expression be
allowed) tact. A man in whom self-love is developed to its
utmost extent, requires that that self-love be not too rudely
shaken, or it rises in arms against even the kindest endeavours
to liberate him from it ; and so, mankind, in the time of our
Lord, was ready to rebel at any sign of an assumed or paraded
superiority, and to exclaim, ' Who made thee a ruler and a
judge?' And this feeling would have been universal among
the Jews of that day, had it not been for the Divine wisdom
and mercy which provided a precursor — a voice of one crying,
* Prepare ye the way of the Lord ; make straight in the desert
a highway for our God.' This was the more important as ab-
solutely preceding the announcement of Christ Himself, inas-
much as there was no disturbing cause to influence men's minds
against the coming teacher — whose advent, it was prede-
termined, should be in such a guise, and of such a character,
as least fitted in with the preconceived ideas of men, who had
long looked for the promised Messiah,

And yet, all that Divine wisdom could effect without inter-
fering with free-will and liberty of thought and action, could
not save the messenger from ignominy, nor the Messiah from

' / am the Light of the IVor/d.' 145

death. For although there were a few who would accept Him
from the depths of their hearts, and according to the varying
degrees of force of their intellect, they were but a small and
feeble folk, willing to be illuminated, and not averse to receive
that light which He declared Himself to be — while the great
mass of mankind, believing that they were themselves suffi-
ciently enlightened, turned with scorn from one who declared
Himself to be the Light of the World — and never forgave Him
for that which, in their miserable self-delusion, they regarded as
an assumption of superiority such as their ingrained self-love
would never permit them to brook.

The world had seen men who had been lights, and revered
as such, before now ; men who had shed a clear lustre over
their age and race, and had impelled it forward with an irresis-
tible impulse. These men were known and recognised ; and
even more, received a semi-worship from their different schools
of followers, strengthening and increasing as time went on.
But these men had taught nothing so widely different from
the natural instincts and aspirations, as to excite the jealousy
and antipathy of the people — unless, as in the case of Socrates,
their principles were of so broad and abstract a character as to
be taken for a subversion of the popular form of religion ; in
which case popular fury subjugated the audacious philosopher
to obloquy, and even to death. But these men had not pro-
claimed themselves as divine lights — they had allowed their
teachings to make their way, in the first instance, with the
educated and the patrician classes, by their means and influence
to leaven the world at large. How different was the system
pursued by our Lord Himself. He did not address Himself
to the wealthy and the noble — He did not come in the guise
of a philosopher to captivate the aristocratic and gilded youth
of a capital with learned disquisitions and elaborate sophisms ;
but He taught in simple parables, the plain and far-reaching
principles of a recognised morality, in unison with the hidden
instincts of the human soul ; and these went straight home to
those whom He addressed — who were men, not marred and

10

146 Neiv Studies in Christian TJieology.

artificialized by contact with the splendour and temptations of
the world, but unsophisticated, simple, and natural ; and these
men He moulded at His will — formed them as a nucleus of
truth — marshalled them as bearers of the Gospel to the world
at large — and acknowledged the justice of His Father, in that
He had hid these things from the wise and prudent, and re-
vealed them unto babes.

But yet these precedent philosophers, who had appeared as
shining lights from time to time, must not be considered as
mere will-o'-the-wisps, misleading and misguiding. They them-
selves professed to be but inquirers. They themselves acknow-
ledged that they were searchers after light and truth — and they
had a higher conception of God, and the soul, and immortality,
in proportion to their own humility, and the profound convic-
tion of their own positive ignorance. But they were yet lights,
and great lights, compared with the bulk of mankind and of
teachers — lights which did not hide themselves under a bushel,
but gave of their rays for the further illumination of mankind.

But all this shows the infinite superiority of Christ. The
light which He came to bring was not the light of the stars,
which differ from one another in glory : it was not the light of
the moon, reflected from a superior luminary, and shedding
but a still pale and ineffectual beam over the slumbering
world ; it was the light of the rising Sun, the day-spring from
on high, the heavenly dawn, which was destined to shine more
and more unto the perfect day. For the Sun of Righteousness
had veritably risen with healing in His wings — the clouds of a
long dark night had dissipated, and He had enunciated a great
and everlasting truth when He declared, ' I am the Light of the
world !'

But the light does not come all at once, and our Lord, the
source of light, was veiled in the flesh. We are apt to say
that the light of dawn struggles with the darkness, and the
metaphor is a correct one ; the Light of the world had also
to struggle with the darkness of error and self-love, and the
struggle was deadly. True, there could be but one termination

*/ am the Light of the World.' 147

to such a struggle, just as there could be but one termination
to the struggle between the mists of darkness and the beams of
the morning. But when light began to shine upon the world,
men, accustomed to long darkness, had begun to love it, and
were unwilling to recognise that light had arisen ; they resisted
it, they fought against it, never stopping to consider against
what they were fighting ; the progress of the dawn was kept
back by the conflict of man, the mission of Christ was retarded
by the strenuous resistance of those whom He came to benefit,
and He was forced to exclaim, ' This is the condemnation, that
light is come into the world, and men loved darkness rather
than light.'

It was obviously impossible for men in that age to under-
stand precisely what our Lord meant when he said, ' I am the
Light of the world.' They would naturally conceive that He
had placed Himself upon a pinnacle of self-asserted superiority,
which excited, in those who heard it without interest or intelli-
gence, feelings only of anger and indignation. They would be
apt to imagine that this was a mere arbitrary assumption, only
deserving of scorn and contempt, that a carpenter's son, born
in a poor and despised province of Judsea, should assume a
title and an attitude far above what the greatest sages had ever
ventured upon before. And yet, properly understood, it
became the simplest and the grandest of facts. For God, who
is love and wisdom, whose attributes are expressed in goodness
and truth, had verily visited His people ; and, in Divine Truth,
had become the Son of Man, the Word made flesh. Truth, up
to this time, had indeed been shed upon the world, and had
struggled in the minds of men against the natural tendencies
to falsity and errors ; and however brightly it may have illu-
minated some rare and favoured men, it had now been reduced
to a mere flickering and dying flame, which, if it expired,
could only be re-kindled from its source. But that Source of
Truth had appeared among them : to those who sat in dark-
ness and in the shadow of death light was sprung up; for
Divine Truth is spiritual light, and He whose Word was truth

10 — 2

148 Nezv Studies in Christian Theology.

— He who could send the Spirit of Truth to guide men into
all truth — He who was Himself the Way, the Truth, and the
Life— , He was indeed the Light of the world.

It thus becomes evident that it was no mere figure of speech,
no mere metaphorical abstraction, no mere rhetorical flourish,
which our Lord made use of on this and similar occasions, but
a plain and simple fact ; which, like many of His teachings,
was ill understood by the most spiritual-minded at the time,
but which to us becomes a vital and eternal truth. But it was
a truth only known to Him who enunciated it — to none else
could it be known ; it was a revelation, which was to be heard
with bowed head, and in implicit faith : for the Light, which
He was, had not yet overspread the world ; it was as yet only
the dawn, the day-spring, in which men could see but dimly
the forms of truth which they instinctively aspired after ; and
the Sun of Righteousness Himself, although in their midst, had
veiled His face in a mantle of flesh, lest a too sudden recog-
nition should lead to a despisal, a falsification, an open-eyed
denial of that Truth itself, which He not merely symbolized,
but absolutely embodied in Himself

The Pharisees — blind guides — exclaimed, ' Thou bearest
record of Thyself; Thy record is not true.' They might as
well have argued that the sun was not, because his beams were
everywhere bearing witness of his own existence. Not com-
prehending that truth is truth, and should be valued and
prized for its own sake, they sought for some testimony ex-
ternal to truth, to prove it was truth. They sought an
impossibility. Truth bears its own impress, and needs not
the fallible and adventitious corroboration of some lower
standard, which may be truth or not. The very objection to
which they gave utterance showed their incompetence to
understand our Lord, on the one hand — and on the other, the
profundity of His utterance. He did bear record of Himself,
and justly, for this was a case beyond their experience and
comprehension, a case which was unique ; and though uttered
for the contemplation of the world eighteen centuries ago.

'/ ai}L the Light of the World! 149

only in this age begins to be understood and dimly appre-
ciated.

It may indeed be said in one sense that from the very
beginning of things the Lord existed, as that Man whose form
He only assumed in the latter days. Jehovah was, in His form
and attributes, that which, on a finite scale. He granted to His
creatures to be, when He first created them. Jehovah was ever
the Source of Goodness and Truth, and His Word, which was
coeval with man's existence, was the clothing of that Truth in
a natural covering, suited to the uses of man in a material
world. For man was created in the image and likeness of
God — a receptacle, therefore, of a finite portion of the love
and wisdom of his Creator, a form fitted for the development
of goodness and truth. And man only fulfils the great object
of his creation when he fulfils those uses for which he was
placed in the world. As long as mankind remained in their
primal condition of innocence, so long they were in free and
full reception of Truth from that Source whence receptacle and
spiritual inflow aUke emanated ; but when man fell from that
high estate, he lost the power of reception — he deprived God of
the means He had hitherto provided for coming near to man —
he ceased to be a receptacle of Divine attributes ; and thence
became as one dead. His natural mind was incapable of
perceiving the light of Truth, and his internal or spiritual mind
had become closed against it. Only by the Lord taking his
nature, only by the Son of Man becoming manifest in the flesh,
could the light of Divine Truth ever reach him again. And
thus became necessary the Incarnation of our blessed Lord,
and thus, also, as by the fall (by Adam's transgression, as it is
termed), the human race became as dead; so by Christ, or by
the incarnation of Divine Truth, he was once more restored to
life.

Thus it appears that darkness, the companion of death, was
over the whole earth when Christ came ; according to the
prophecy of Isaiah, ' Darkness covered the earth, and gross
darkness the people.' But as the Apostle says to the Ephesians

150 Nczu Studies in Christian TJieology.

(v. 14), ' All things that are reproved are made manifest by the
light j for whatsoever doth make manifest is light. Wherefore
he saith, Awake thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead,
and Christ shall give thee light.' And thus has He come to be
the Light of the world, to illumine its dark places, to be a lamp
unto our feet, and a light to our path — to enlighten the ignorant,
to open the eyes of the blind, and to shed a clear lustre, a
heavenly radiance, upon the way which leads to eternal life.

Never before had light come so immediately upon the
human soul ; hitherto it had passed through some other
medium before reaching us ; before the Incarnation it was
not possible that it should be directly received. But now the
Light shineth, never more to be dimmed or extinguished. John
was called a burning and a shining light ; but he was not a
light in this sense, he was but a conveyer of illumination — a
lanip^ as it is in the original — but Christ is Light itself. John
came only to bear witness to that Light ; for ' that was the true
Light, which lighteth every man that cometh into the world.'

We have our Lord's testimony that there are some who love
darkness rather than light, because their deeds are evil. But
were it not so, we might well ask. Who would not welcome the
light, and walk by it ? We have the assurance of our reason
that Christ is our Light, and he further teaches us that ' he
that followeth Me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the
Light of Life.' To walk in darkness is to refuse the light, to
choose the evil and to refuse the good ; and none can do this
without a renunciation of truth ; for to have once known the
truth, however dimly, is to have had light, with its responsi-
bihties and' capabilities. To continue in evil-doing, is to
choose the darkness of death ; but to follow Christ is to have
the Light of Life. And Light is a gift not to be despised,
though a gift which the wicked undervalue, and therefore lose ;
for 'Light is sown for the righteous, and gladness for the
upright in heart' And if we, in this life, seek this gift at its
source and spring, we shall inherit the promise made through
Isaiah the prophet, when the material light fades upon the

'/ am the Light of the World.' 151

sense, leaving the soul illuminated by the heavenly beams of
Divine Truth which we have made ours, by loving it, and
appropriating it. ' The sun shall be no more thy light by day ;
neither for brightness shall the moon give light unto thee : but
the Lord shall be unto thee an everlasting light, and thy God
thy glory. Thy sun shall no more go down ; neither shall thy
moon withdraw itself : for the Lord shall be thine everlasting
light, and the days of thy mourning shall be ended ' (Isa. Ix.
19, 20).

LECTURE XVIII.

'before ABRAHAM WAS, I AM.'

' Then said the Jews unto Hirn, Thou art not yet fifty years old, and hast
Thou seen Abraham ? Jesus said unto them, Verily, verily, I say unto you,
Before Abraham was, I am.' — John viii. 57, 58.

Few statements of our Lord concerning Himself could have
been more puzzling to the sceptical and practical Jewish mind
than this one. And we can scarcely wonder that they should
have been startled by a claim which it was utterly out of their
power to comprehend. If the Jews had one subject of pride
more than another, it was the pride of descent from the great
father of the Hebrew race. For not only was Abraham a great
and powerful prince of antiquity, but he was, traditionally, one
of the most highly favoured of men. He was the friend of
God — he was one with whom God had condescended to speak
face to face — he was a man celebrated through the ages, as the
pattern of faith, the prime exemplar and personification of holy
obedience. To be descended from such an ancestor was in
itself a great subject of congratulation ; it was an origin which
was highly valued by all who could distinguish between idolatry
and the worship of the true God — an ancestry appreciated the
more, in proportion to the knowledge possessed of the history
of the race, handed down through thousands of years of gene-
rations. The more learned of the Scribes and Pharisees, who
were well acquainted with the early dealings of Jehovah with
the patriarchs, could not fail to venerate the name of Abraham
above every name which had shed a lustre upon mankind —

'Before Abraham was, I am.' 153

above every founder of a kingdom or a race, which had ever
shone conspicuous in the annals of traditionary lore.

But besides all this, the promises which had been made by
Jehovah to this same Abraham were of so wonderful and
comprehensive a nature, that it is by no means extraordinary
that the Jews should have prided themselves on their descent
from this highly favoured ancestor. For every Jew felt himself
to be a partaker of those promises. To him, and to his seed,
were the promises made ; and his seed claimed for themselves,
or for their posterity, a due share in those blessings which had,
for two thousand years, been brooding, as it were, over his
descendants, and were not yet fulfilled. That they would be
fulfilled, every Jew firmly believed; and everyone hoped the
fulfilment might arrive in their own time. To be a child of
Abraham, therefore, was to have a claim to a great inheritance
— a claim not yet satisfied ; to have Abraham to their father,
was to be members of a family which, in antiquity, in rank, in
importance, in prospective prosperity, should excel every other
family of nations which the world knew. Therefore, in their
blindness of heart, the Jews thought to cover a multitude of
sins, when they proudly, but vainly urged, * We have Abraham
to our Father.'

This plea had, however, already been combated by John the
Baptist — who foresaw the errors to which it would lead those
to whom the Messiah was just about to show Himself. He,
we know, preached repentance. It was a real feeling of guilt,
and a real wish for amendment, which was necessary for the
world to possess, before it could become fit for the reception of
the benefits which the Lord would bring. The Jewish world
required awakening out of that apathy which had been gather-
ing around them for centuries — they required to be disabused
of certain notions which clung tenaciously to them, and of
which the belief that because they had Abraham to their
father, therefore they were exempt from certain responsibilities
to which others, not so favoured, were liable, was a very im-
portant one. Therefore did John impress upon them the

154 New Studies in Christian Theology.

necessity of a more important and searching test than this mere
accidental descent from the Father of the Faithful ; the test,
namely, of a repentance which should bring forth fruits. It
was not enough to be a child of Abraham ; the promises were
made, it is true, to Abraham and his seed — but with the pro-
mises were certain conditions which must be fulfilled. ' For I
know him,' said Jehovah, ' that he will command his children,
and his household after him, and they shall keep the way of
the Lord, to do justice and judgment; that the Lord may
bring upon Abraham that which He hath spoken of him '
(Gen. xviii. 19). This was the condition of the fulfilment of
the promises which the Jews expected. But did they heed the
conditions ? did they act in the manner implied by this passage
of Genesis ? If they had done so, where would have been the
need of a Redeemer? The Son of Man came to seek and to
save that which was lost ; and the Jewish nation was lost at the
time of the coming of the Messiah. They had not kept in the
way of the Lord — they had not done justice and judgment
— they were in need of repentance bringing forth fruit ; and
therefore, to say ' We have Abraham to our father,' was to lean
upon a reed, which would afford no support before Him who
was like a refiner's fire, who should purify the sons of Levi, and
purge them as gold and silver. And to show the utter hollow-
ness of their claim to impunity as sons of Abraham, the Baptist
adds, ' For I say unto you that God is able of these sto?ies to
raise up children unto Abraham.'

It might be supposed that such a denunciation of a false and
delusive hope would have been of some effect in disenchanting
the Jews of their favourite belief that, as descendants of Abra-
ham, they were especially relieved from the necessity of doing
such acts, or conducting themselves in such a manner, as was
incumbent on other people. But the idea was strong in them,
' I am holier than thou ;' or, as the Pharisee expressed it in the
parable, * Lord, I thank Thee that I am not as other men are ;'
and the teaching of John the Baptist, which was doubtless not
•without its due result in preparing a remnant of the people for

^Before Abj-ahani was, I am.' 155

the hearing of the Word, and for the germination of the good
seed — was yet, nevertheless, of but very partial effect. There
were some humble-minded men whose souls were, prepared for
the ministry of Christ — who were the chosen depositaries of
the mysteries of the kingdom ; but the proud and self-confident
Pharisees were not so easily to be won from their old paths.
In them was powerfully developed this notion of inheritance
from Abraham, of not only material, but also spiritual benefits,
from the mere fact of sonship. They had yet to learn that
Christ's kingdom was a spiritual one, which demanded some-
thing personal in themselves, which could not be afforded by
the mere fact of their Israelitish descent. And from them the
words of the Baptist glanced harmlessly, not scaring their slum-
bering consciences, nor alarming their well-cased spirits ; but
they amply justified the Baptist's expression of surprise, who,
when he saw them among the crowds at the river's brink, ex-
claimed, 'O generation of vipers, who hath warned j'<?z/! to flee
from the wrath to come ?'

It is therefore perhaps not astonishing that this rooted belief
of the Pharisees found expression early in our Lord's career of
ministration. ' Ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall
make you free.' This was the stone of offence — the exciting
cause which brought out the Jewish fallacy. They answered
Him, 'We be Abraham's seed, and were never in bondage to
any man : how sayest Thou, Ye shall be made free ?' (vers,
32> ZZ)' Our Saviour had just declared Himself to be the
Light of the world, and thereby He had raised the ire of the
Pharisees, who had endeavoured to cast discredit upon His
testimony : and this had led Him to declare Himself as sent
by One in whom dwelt truth — that truth which He brought
from the Father, whose representative He was, and whose will
He strictly performed. He was Son of Man, as to Divine
Truth, and hence He declared that on the one hand the Truth
should make them free ; and further, that whether descended
from Abraham or not — whether they had been in bondage or
not — if the So?i shall make them free, they should be free

156 Nezv Studies in Christian Theology.

indeed. He did not wish to deny their kinship to Abraham,
but to show them that they must not depend upon that for
everything, as they were prone to do ; for that although as to
the flesh they were descendants of Abraham, yet spiritually
they were children of the devil. For, as St. Paul taught, in a
manner which must have brought it home to their consciences,
* Verily, circumcision profiteth, if thou keep the law ; but if
thou be a breaker of the law, thy circumcision is made uncir-
cumcision.' 'For he is not a Jew, which is one outwardly . .
but he is a Jew, which is one inwardly . . whose praise is not
of men, but of God ' (Rom. ii.).

To the reiterated boast that Abraham was their father, then,
our Lord opposes their rejection of Himself * If ye were
Abraham's children, ye would do the works of Abraham.' For
we are told that ' Abraham believed God, and it was accounted
to him for righteousness' (Gal. iii. 6) — but the Jews were, in
this important respect, anything but children of Abraham.
The Apostle justly says, that 'they which are of faith, the same
are the children of Abraham ' (ver. 7) ; but the Jews of Christ's
day had no faith. They had lost all belief in everything, but
their own worthiness ; they dishonoured God ; they believed
not the Son of Man, who was Divine Truth itself; and thus
they had forfeited all claim to the promises made to them by
virtue of their descent from Abraham. ' I know that ye are
Abraham's seed,' our blessed Lord said to them ; and just after
He added, ' 7/" _>'i? z£/^r^ Abraham's children, ye would do the
works of Abraham' — thus clearly showing the line of demarca-
tion between the letter and the spirit — between the unworthy
descendants of Abraham's body, and the worthy recommenda-
tion of those who walked in the steps and faith of Abraham.

But although they could not gainsay the argument of our
Lord, who clearly showed them the invalidity of their claim to
the promises of Abraham, this only served to incense the Pha-
risees against Him who had so mercilessly turned the tables of
logic against them : and they were ready to seize upon any
point which would give a colourable pretext for persecution;

^Before Abrahain was, I aui.' 157

nor had they long to wait. In pursuance of His argument,
our Saviour urged that they would not hear the words of God^
because they were not of God ; and finally made that great
announcement which is the concentration of Christian doctrine :
* Verily, verily, I say unto you, If a man keep My saying, he
shall never see death.'

It is singular how impenetrable was the coat of naturalism
which covered the Jews at this time. Whenever our blessed
Lord made any statement, even to His disciples, which had a
spiritual meaning, He was at once misunderstood. In scarcely
any case were the spiritual lessons of the Gospel received, unless
they appealed strongly to the natural man. Nicodemus could
not understand — the Pharisees could not understand — the
disciples even could not understand. Spiritual lessons ran
through their ears, making no impression upon their minds ;
hearing they heard, and did not understand — and seeing they
saw, but did not perceive. Whenever death was spoken of, it
only conveyed to them the idea of physical death; just as
when the serpent said, ' Ye shall not surely die,' the words im-
plied that the death meant, was the death only of the body.
Did the Pharisees know of anyone who in process of time
had escaped seeing death ? The transparency of the deceit,
which they would imply in' the utterance of our Lord, does not
seem to have occurred to them ; but they simply accepted the
actual statement in the crassness of their understanding, liter-
ally and naturally : and were greatly offended. ' Who was
this, to claim a power over death ? whose very word was im-
plied to be a spell against the common lot of all ? Was not
this the Carpenter's Son ? Do we not know His father and
His mother ? Are not His brothers and sisters with us ? and
this man arrogates an elixir, of which not even Abraham or the
prophets had any knowledge — an elixir which He pretends
shall preserve all who use it from death ! Abraham is dead —
the prophets are dead. Art Thou then greater than our father
Abraham, which is dead? Whom makest Thou Thyself?'
We may imagine the excited questioning and upbraiding which

158 Nezu Studies in CJiristimi Theology.

followed this declaration : but it only led to the climax. ' Your
father Abraham rejoiced to see My day ; and he saw it, and was
glad,' Not alone Abraham indeed — but, as our Saviour said
in another place, * For I tell you, that many prophets and kings
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 ' (Luke x. 24). These, indeed, we are told by
St. Paul, in the Epistle to the Hebrews, ' all died in faith, not
having received the promises, but having seen them afar off,
and were persuaded of them, and embraced them, and con-
fessed that they were strangers and pilgrims upon earth '
(xi. 13). To Abraham, indeed, as the father of the Israelitish
dispensation, God had declared Himself, and appeared, and
conversed with him, as a man converseth with his friend —
saying, ' I am the Almighty God ; walk before Me and be thou
perfect.' On many occasions had God vouchsafed communica-
tion with the patriarchs of old, but to no other in those ages was
God so well known — the God of the Old Testament, the
Jehovah, the Lord the God of Heaven, and the God of the
Earth — the everlasting God. It was as such that he knew
Him ; but with eyes of faith he could also see the God of the
new covenant, who was hereafter to come, that Christ, of which
he was himself a type, who was to lay down His life, even as he
himself laid down at God's command the life which God had
given him — the life of his son Isaac,

But all this was incomprehensible to the Pharisees and Jews.
What could the Nazarene have in common with the old patri-
archal founder of their race ? ' Thou art not fifty years old,
and hast thou seen Abraham ?' The boldness of our Lord's
assertion must carry with it truth, or an alternative of such
shallow assumption, as, even in the mind of one who only saw
our Lord's doings, and heard His words of wisdom, would have
been utterly unworthy of His reputation and incompatible with
His character. We, in our day, can more clearly estimate that
character, and see how divine and superhuman it was ; and we
need not be assured that He could neither lie, nor mislead.

'Before Abraham zvas, I ani^ 159

Yet nothing could be more clear than His reply to the chal-
lenge— * Jesus said unto them, Verily, verily, I say unto you,
Before Abraham was, I am^ And in this reply, not only was a
verbal assent given to the express question of the Jews — but in
that assent was included an implication of a most solemn and
conclusive character — a divine allusion (if it may be so called)
which no mere man could have dared to utter. For here our
Saviour used the very words of Jehovah — here He assumed
the very name by which He chose to be called. For when
Moses saw the glory of the Lord in z, bush on Horeb, he in-
quired, * When they shall say unto me, What is His name ?
what shall I say unto them ? And God said unto Moses, I AM
THAT I AM ; and He said. Thus shalt thou say unto the chil-
dren of Israel, I AM hath sent me unto you ' (Ex. iii. 13, 14).
^ This is indeed He who is alike the God, and the Redeemer
of the Old and of the New Testament. Thus did He declare
Himself, while in the flesh, as identical with the God of Abra-
ham, of Isaac, and of Jacob. Thus did He vindicate His
honour, and the honour of the Father who sent Him; and
claim what the seer of Patmos was taught of Him in the spirit
— who heard a great voice, as of a trumpet, saying, ' I am the
Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and
the ending, which is, and which was, and which is to come, the
Almighty ' (Rev. i. 8). Thus, indeed, are we taught that He
who took our nature upon Him, and became flesh, had stepped
down from His glory, and was yet to be glorified by the Father,
with the glory which He had with Him before the world was.
* Before Abraham was, I am ' — not fifty years old, indeed, as to
the earthly body inherited from His mother Mary — but as to
the Divine soul within — as to the Divine which awaits its com-
plete union with the human — the Father, which is to be
glorified with the Son —

'Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, to-day, and for

EVER !'

LECTURE XIX.

THE GOOD SAMARITAN.

' A certain man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell among
thieves, which stripped him of his raiment, and wounded him, and departed,
leaving him half dead. And by chance there came down a certain priest
that way : and when he saw him, he papsed by on the other side. And
likewise a Levite, when he m as at the place, came and looked on him, and
passed by on the other side. But a certain Samaritan, as he journeyed,
came where he was : and when he saw him, he had compassion on him,
and went to him, and bound up his wounds, pouring in oil and wine, and
set him on his own beast, and brought him to an inn, and took care of him.
And on the morrow when he departed, he took out two pence, and gave
them to the host, and said unto him. Take care of him ; and whatsoever
thou spendest more, when I come again, I will repay thee. Which now of
these three, thinkest thou, was neighbour unto him that fell among the
thieves? And he said, He that showed mercy on him. Then said Jesus
unto him, Go, and do thou likewise.' — Luke x. 30-37.

' And who is my neighbour ?' This is a question which at first
sight seems very easy of answer, although the lesson or moral to
be deduced from that ansv/er is by no means always a just one.
Neighbourhood is too often regarded as an excuse for feelings
and for conduct the very reverse of that which our Lord
teaches in the beautiful parable of the Good Samaritan ; and
indeed we may safely say, that, although some enlightened men
in all ages had views of such things, views of truth (that is),
far superior to the generality of mankind, and could form a
correct estimate, not only of what constituted neighbourship,
but also of what duties and responsibilities such neighbour-
ship entailed — nevertheless, our Lord's story of the wounded
man and his helper must have come with surprise and
astonishment to many of his hearers, who had been brought
up in very different views.

TJie Good Samaritan. i6i

For men in the early ages of the world had little notion of
neighbourship, except that one must beware of one's neigh-
bours, and be jealous of too close a vicinage. And they con-
ceived, as many do in this day, that neighbours, whether that
term be applied to a people or to individuals, simply meant that
they were in close proximity, and dwelt so near that for that very
reason they were to be held at arm's length. What has ever been
the fate of two nations divided from one another by a simple
geographical boundary ? They are neighbours — that is, they
abut one on the other ; but has that ever been considered a
reason why they should treat one another with respect and
amity? Is their natural proximity regarded as the seal of
friendship, confidence, and mutual interest? Not so, but more
generally that very fact has been the ground of endless
jealousies, and of perpetual mistrust. The one sees in the
unavoidable nearness of the other only a strong reason for
caution and suspicion, an eternal occasion for watchfulness
and wariness, lest the other should take an undue advantage of
its proximity to sow the seeds of disaffection, to gain a vantage-
point in its dominion, or absolutely to annex its territory ; and
the neighbouring states are in a continual condition of bicker-
ing, enmity, and warfare. And yet they are neighbours, in the
common sense of the term, although their neighbourhood does
not inspire them with either international courtesy, or with
common human philanthropy.

If, again, in either of these countries we take two adjacent
cities or towns, shall we find that their neighbourhood acts in a
more benevolent manner ? does their mutual proximity inspire
either of them with mutual respect, or with mutual aff"ection ?
Are there not perpetual envies and jealousies between them ?
Does one rejoice in the prosperity of another, or glory in the
success of its neighbour ? We are forced to reply in the nega-
tive. Nor is the case better between two adjacent houses. If
the lands of the one abut upon those of the other, are they not
the subject of continual heart-burning, not unfrequently leading
to open war, declared perhaps by their ancestors, and left as a

II

1 62 Nezv Studies in Christian Theology.

legacy from generation to generation ? Claims of right set up
by one against another, questions of dignity and precedence
which keep up a continual irritation — these are too often the
fruits of neighbourhood in such cases. And if we further
descend to private families, living always in one another's
sight, is one's next-door neighbour always willing to live in
amity and benevolence ? Do men, who are habitually
separated in their walk through life only by a garden wall,
exhibit the Christian graces more brightly than others ? or
does not that close vicinity rather tend to emulation, to strife,
to wrangling ? If men indeed lived neighbourly with their
neighbours only, then would the world be more Christian than
it is. For if men could carry out the second great command-
ment with those among whom they were most closely asso-
ciated, they would find little difficulty in exhibiting their
benevolence and regard for their fellow-men at a greater
distance; and when individuals, and families, and nations,
can learn to carry out the great example of Christ, and live at
peace with those nearest to them, then will the world become
sanctified, and heaven will have been brought down to earth.

* But who, then, is my neighbour ?' The question remains
yet unanswered. For the word ' neighbour ' has two widely
different meanings, and the unregenerated man only knows of
one. Our neighbour lives next door, or opposite, or in the
same street ; we see him daily, he is sufficiently near to make
himself disagreeable, if he have a mind to do so, or, on the
other hand, to make himself beloved, if that is his disposition ;
and we hold ourselves neutral, until he shall have declared
himself one way or the other. In a wider sense, our neigh-
bours are those of the country nearest to us, against whom we
must always be upon our guard. We must watch for the first
signs of over-reaching on their part ; if they are friendly, we
may perhaps make an alliance with them ; if otherwise, we
must go to war with them ; but in each case we must carefully
consult our own interest, and whether for peace or for war, we
must take care that we get the best of the bargain.

TJie Good Samaritan. 163

This is the common idea of neighbour//^(?^. And this is
neighbourhood as it exists in our fallen and imperfect condition.
This is neighbourhood, as it was understood by the Jews ; this
is the kind of neighbourhood which our Lord came to condemn,
and to which the parable of the Good Samaritan was intended
to be an antidote. For the neighbourhood which existed under
the old dispensation, not indeed by virtue of the old law, but
by perversion of it, our Lord substituted the neighbourhood of
the new dispensation, which should rather be called the neigh-
hQMxship of the Gospel. For herein lies the difference, that
neighbourship, such as our Lord taught, was independent of
vicinity; and while it necessarily included neighbours in the
literal sense, its real meaning was far more extended, far more
embracing, far more comprehensive, even as that which is
spiritual is far more embracing and comprehensive than that
which is natural.

' A certai n man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and
fell among thieves.' The thieves treated him truly in a neigh-
bourly way, that is according to the natural ideas of neighbour-
hood, for they transferred to themselves those goods of which
he was possessed, and appropriated everything that would be
of service to themselves. Self, the source of all evil, was their
only spring of action. Probably, if he had been a fully con-
senting party to this transfer, they would not have wounded
him, and left him half dead ; but self stops at no half measures
in the pursuit of its object, and the thieves ministered to their
own self-interest, regardless of all other considerations. As the
unfortunate man thus lay stripped and wounded, ' by chance
there came down a certain priest that way.' The first person
who is represented as having seen the wayfarer, wounded and
insensible, was a priest — one of the class to which were
entrusted the spiritual keeping and guidance of the Jews ; one
who, by virtue of his office of intermediary between God and
man, was bound to perform certain well-marked functions of a
high and spiritual character between Jehovah and his fellow-
men. But did his sacred and spiritual character necessitate

II — 2

164 Nezv Studies in Christian Theology.

his interference in a purely secular case like this ? He did not
look upon it in that light ; he did not imagine that as a
physician of souls he was in any way bound to care for the
bodies of his flock. As long as he performed his perfunctory
duties of priest, why should he put himself to inconvenience
by taking upon himself the care of a wounded man ? He had
no charity, although a priest ; he had no humanity, although
he stood in the place of God. Who was this man who lay
insensible by the roadside ? He did not know him, he was
not even one of his congregation ; he was no neighbour of his,
and so he passed by on the other side.

Not long after, a Levite came to the same place. A Levite
held an inferior office to that of a priest. In Numbers iii. we
read that a Levite was one whose duty it was to minister to the
priest ; they were given to the priests for service in the taber-
nacle. They were thus an inferior caste, as it were, less holy
than the priest ; but as if to show that it was the fulfilment of
the spirit rather than of the letter of the law which availed
most, the Levite is represented as being a shade superior to
the priest. While the latter passed by on the other side, with-
out a spark of sympathy, the Levite came and looked on the
wounded man, although his humanity was not sufficient to
move him to active compassion.

This, indeed, was reserved for the third passer-by. A very
different man was he from those who preceded him. He was
neither a priest nor a Levite — nor was he even a Jew. He
was a Samaritan — one of a despised and hated heretical sect,
of whom in another place it was said, ' The Jews had no deal-
ings with the Samaritans ' (John iv. 9). Yet notwithstanding
this, when the Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where the
wounded man lay, and saw him, he had compassion on him, and
went to him, and bound up his wounds. He did not stop to con-
sider whether he was a Samaritan like himself; he did not wait
to ask himself if he knew him, or whether he was a neighbour ;
he only saw that the man was in distress — that he was in urgent
need of help and assistance ; he only recognised that he was a

The Good Samaritan. 165

fellow-man — and his humane soul overflowed with compassion
— his merciful heart melted within him — his noble nature vin-
dicated itself — and the full force of the precept made itself felt
within him, * Do unto others as ye would that they should do
unto you.'

The Samaritan was indeed not the neighbour to him whom
he succoured, in the commonly received sense of the word.
The priest and the Levite were much more nearly his neigh-
bours— and yet they did not consider him a neighbour suffi-
ciently near to make it incumbent upon them to help him.
But in the case of the Samaritan, by no stretch of meaning
could he be considered a neighbour in the sense of neighbour-
hood — and yet he had mercy on him. For the Samaritan had
a much higher and more comprehensive appreciation of the
term neighbour, applying it not to neighbour//;?^^, but to neigh-
howxship — a term which in his mind embraced not only those
who happened to live near him — to be of his blood — or even
of his nation, and way of thinking — but included all formed,
like himself, in the image and likeness of his Maker. He
carried out the idea, not in the letter only, but in the spirit ;
and he saw in the wounded man, not an alien, in whom he had
no interest — not a being of another mould, about whom he had
no concern — but another self, his neighbour, whom it was both
his duty and his pleasure to assist and succour. The priest
and the Levite each asked themselves the question put by Cain
of old, ' Am I my brother's keeper ?' The Samaritan was in-
fused by what has been called the Enthusiasm of Humanity —
seeing in all men, of whatever creed or nation, simply fellow-
sharers with himself of the humanity which came from God ; and
he remembered what was written in the Proverbs of Solomon
(xiv. 31), 'He that honoureth his Maker hath mercy on the
poor/ and what the man of God declared unto Eli (i Sam.
ii. 30), * Them that honour Me, I will honour, saith the Lord.'

The law of the neighbour, although it has been felt in the
hearts of many who have perhaps enjoyed few advantages of
ethical teaching in ancient times, was never fully enunciated

1 66 New Studies in Christian Theology.

until our Lord Himself, in the Sermon on the Mount, explained
it to the multitude. The law of retaliation was well enough
known. That law appealed too nearly to the old Adam to
escape appreciation. ' Ye have heard that it hath been said,
An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth. But I say unto
you, That ye resist not evil' (Matt. v. 38). *Ye have heard
that it hath been said. Thou shalt love thy neighbour, and hate
thine enemy. But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless
them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray
for them that despitefully use you, and persecute you.' It is
true that in Leviticus xix. 18 we read once, and the only time,
' Thou shalt not avenge, nor bear any grudge against the
children of thy people, but thou shalt love thy neighbour as
thyself — but it is not everyone who, like the lawyers, remem-
bered this ; and if they did remember it, it was always open to
a casuistical qualification.

The lawyer, when asked by our Lord how he read the law,
replied, ' Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart,
and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength, and with
all thy mind ; and thy neighbour as thyself.' And our Saviour
replied, ' Thou hast answered right. This do, and thou shalt
live.' But the lawyer, ' willing to justify himself,' we are
told, asked, ' And who is my neighbour ?' It is one thing
to say off a commandment glibly and by rote — another to
apply it duly and correctly. The lawyer evidently felt him-
self driven into a corner. He could not deny that he knew
the law — but when compelled to repeat it, he professed
ignorance of its application ; and willing to justify himself,
demanded to know what neighbour really meant. Our Lord
brought it home to him, as the parable of the ' Good Samaritan*
brings it home to every one of us, that we are all neighbours
— that neighbour^////^ does not demand mere neighbour//*?*?^
for the fulfilment of its duties to our fellow-men, but that all
men are neighbours one to the other ; and that it is the duty
of everyone to exercise towards his fellows those virtues of
charity, lovingkindness, benevolence, and mercy, which the

The Good Samaritan. 167

heathen and the half-heathen Jews imagined to be due only to
those who were kinsmen by blood, or bound to one another by
ties of gratitude and friendship. ' For if ye love them which
love you, what reward have ye ? do not even the publicans the
same ?' (Matt. v. 46). But ' Herein is Love, not that we loved
God, but that He loved us, and sent His Son to be the propi-
tiation for our sins. Beloved, if God so loved us, we ought
also to love one another,' And this indeed is the corollary our
Lord draws from His exhortations upon mutual love and charity
in the Sermon on the Mount, when He says, ' Be ye therefore
perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect.'

There is a worldly-wise proverb which says that * Charity
begins at home.' There is doubtless truth in this — but not the
whole truth, and therefore it is misleading ; and if trusted to
entirely, is fatal. A man's first duty is doubtless to those
about him, and immediately dependent upon him ; and he
would be wanting in kindness and prudence, did he pass them
by, and exercise what he would call charity upon others, at the
expense of those who had the greatest claims upon his bounty.
But, on the other hand, those at home are often but another
word for one's self; and if this proverb were taken as it stands,
a lavish and selfish expenditure of affection and charity on
them would greatly tend to circumscribe those feelings which
were intended for the benefit of all one's fellow-creatures, and
were never meant to be concentrated upon a small selfish
circle. It is the enthusiasm, not of one's own blood (which is
self), but the enthusiasm of humanity in general, which we are
called upon to encourage — an enthusiasm which all possess,
but which many try to stifle; whereas it is this enthusiasm
which our Lord possessed in the highest degree, and which we,
if we, as we profess to do, are to take Him as our example,
should try hard to imitate.

Hence our neighbour, and our duties toward our neighbour,
become more important in proportion to the extent and in-
fluence of what may be justly included in the term. Our
country is our neighbour, and our duties to it exceed in im-

1 68 Neiv Studies in Christian Theology.

portance any individual relations ; so also our Church is our
neighbour, in a more transcendent sense ; and in all cases
our duty towards our neighbour, whether individual or col-
lective, can only be truly performed when performed solely for
the sake of the goodness and truth in which they consist.

'AH these commandments,' said the rich young man, 'have
I kept from my youth up ; what lack I yet ?' The answer was,
* Go, sell all that thou hast, and give to the poor.'

'And if there be any other commandment, it is briefly com-
prehended in this,' says the Apostle (Rom. xiii. 9), ' Thou shalt
love thy neighbour as thyself.' And 'there is a double reason
for this ; first, by removing the exercise of love and charity
out of a man's own sphere, he thus provides an antidote for
the love of self, which is really the root of all evil — the serpent
that creeps into every man's heart with the intent to drive him
out of the promised Paradise; and secondly, to divert that
which is the love of self into its proper channel, viz., the love
of others, and the exercise towards them of that benevolence,
mercy, and charity, which at once benefits them and ennobles
the soul which performs it. For as the great poet has truly
said,

' It is twice blest ;
It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes.'

But the ground upon which we are called upon thus to act
in a manner which does not commend itself to our natural
minds, is given by our Lord also in His Sermon on the Mount,
'That ye may be the children of your Father which is in
heaven : for He maketh the sun to rise on the evil and on the
good, and sendeth rain upon the just and on the unjust.'
What we have to remember is that we are not merely brothers
by blood to those of our immediate family circle, but that ' He
hath made of one blood all nations of men for to dwell on all
the face of the earth' (Acts xvii. 26). All men therefore are
brethren, and he is the wisest man who recognises the fact,
and remembers that his neighbour, equally with himself, is the
work of God — and not only the work, but also the care of

TJie Good Samaritan, 169

God ; and who is he that shall say, ' I am more important, or
better than another man,' when that other man is equally under
God's protection, and for what we know, may be far more
deserving of it than ourselves ? Christ died for all alike, and
that fact alone ennobles all men, of whatsoever rank and
station they may be ; and it is the duty of all men to remember
this, and to afford to everyone that charity which they them-
selves need from others.

No man can stand alone in the world, no man is independent
of the good will and good ofifices of others ; but how can he
look for such good will, and such good offices, if he refuse
them to his fellow-men? How can he 'hope for mercy,
rendering none ' ? But whoso hath this world's good (not of
money only), and seeth his brother have need, and shutteth up
his bowels of compassion from him, how dwelleth the love of
God in him?' (i John iii. 17.) It cannot so dwell; and such
as would habitually act thus, such as habitually disregard the
Law of the Neighbour, who act as did the priest and the
Levite in the parable, such men will infallibly shut themselves
out from the promise of our Lord made on the Mount of
the Beatitudes. 'Blessed are the merciful, for they shall
obtain mercy.'

LECTURE XX.

THE RAISING OF LAZARUS.

'After that He said unto them, Our friend Lazarus sleepeth ; but I go,
that I may awake him out of sleep. Then said His disciples. Lord, if he
sleep, he shall do well. Howbeit Jesus spake of his death : but they thought
that He had spoken of taking of rest in sleep. Then said Jesus unto them
plainly, Lazarus is dead.' — John xi. I1-14.

In this chapter we have a priceless record of the human and
sympathetic side of our Lord's nature, given by the beloved
disciple, and by him alone. How much would have been lost
to us, if this beautiful narrative had not been handed down,
full, as it is, of touching incidents, and of a sustained interest
which gives it a place apart, among all the chapters of the four
Gospels. And not only so, but as we shall remark in the
sequel, the lessons conveyed in it are of the weightiest import-
ance, among the highest as applied to mankind generally, and
at the same time, of the vastest personal import to every indi-
vidual in particular.

It is an episode in the domestic history of a family, consist-
ing of a brother and two sisters, who were all deeply attached
to one another, but who also gained the enviable distinction of
being the friends of our Lord, and dearly loved and valued
friends also. Their mutual bond of affection is beautifully
expressed in the terse language of the sacred writings, and is
specially indicated by the anxiety of the sisters for their
brother, who was sick : and we may be sure that he whom
Jesus loved was a good and worthy man. * He whom Thou
lovest is sick,' was the message sent by the sisters ; who, in
their anxious distress, at once flew for consolation and assist-

The Raising of Lazanis. l/i

ance to the Lord, on whose sympathy they could well rely, and
whose power to help they could fully trust. For Jesus (we are
told) ' loved Martha, and her sister, and Lazarus.' But although
He who knows the thoughts of the heart, must have known,
although absent, of the sickness of His friend, He nevertheless
sent no direct message in reply to their appeal ; nor had they
indeed addressed to Him any direct petition, but they had
made their needs known to Him, leaving Him to meet them
in the way which He thought best ; and He gave an assurance
of ultimate triumph over death, although with an intimation
that that triumph must be effected in God's own way, in a way
which would not only redound to the glory of God, but would
also serve as an occasion for the advancement of Christ's great
work on earth.

Jesus, therefore, when He had heard that Lazarus was sick,
came not instantly to his relief, but abode tzuo days in the
same place where he was. The faith which had impelled the
sisters to send instantly to Jesus when their brother fell sick,
was the faith of Thomas, the faith of sight : would they be
able to brook the delay, the apparent neglect, the suspense
of two critical days, and still retain the faith of things unseen ?
This was their appointed trial. It seemed unkind, this apparent
passiveness ; it seemed inconsistent with the love He bore them,
that He should not instantly fly to their aid. And yet it is
not without significance that between the two verses (the 4th
and the 6th) occurs that simple, unvarnished, and blessed state-
ment, * Now Jesus loved Martha, and her sister, and Lazarus.'

But perhaps they had yet to learn, that ' Whom the Lord
loveth He chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom He
receiveth ' (Heb. xii. 6). It was, however, a grievous tempta-
tion ; doubt, distress, and darkness overshadowed them during
those two sad days ; their love and trust in Jesus were sorely
tried ; and when their brother at last closed his eyes in death,
without being comforted by the presence even of his Friend,
the depth of their despair must have been indeed reached;
nor could they, in the blackness of their sorrowful night, and

172 New Studies in Christian Theology.

with eyes blinded with weeping, read aright the cheering and
blessed promise, ' They that sow in tears, shall reap in joy '
(Psa. cxxvi. 5).

But they had not entirely lost their faith. Martha, at all
events, although misunderstanding the silence of Jesus, and
wondering why so simple a thing should not have happened,
as that He, who had healed the nobleman's son with a word,
even without going to him, should not also have sent back a
healing message, when they had first informed Him of His
friend's sickness — she still retained the belief that Jesus could
help them. * I know' (she said to Him) 'that even now, what-
soever Thou wilt ask of God, God will give it Thee.' She had
but a vague idea of what she expected or hoped, just as she
had, at this time, but a vague idea of the greatness and majesty
of the Being whom she was addressing ; but she evidently
believed Him to be One in high favour with God ; and to
.whom God would grant more than human power, should He
ask it of Him, But although she had met Him with an
implied reproach for His absence, she yet preserved her faith
in His power, and to a great extent also in His willingness to
do them good.

But where was Mary all this time ? IMartha, who represents
the natural or external affection of truth, receives the first notice
of the coming of Jesus, and runs to meet Him ; but Mary, the
spiritual and more interior affection, sat still in the house, the
interior affection remaining for a time unconscious and inactive
in the will. Mary, the loving one, overwhelmed with sorrow, weep-
ing secretly, yet waiting hopefully, for the consolation of Christ's
presence, sat in the house ; until Martha, strengthened in her
faith by the solemn adjurations of Jesus, goes secretly to her
and informs her of His arrival. For Jesus had said to Martha,
' I am the resurrection and the life : he that believeth in Me,
though he were dead, yet shall he live. And whosoever liveth
and believeth in Me shall never die. Believest thou this ?
She saith unto Him, Yea, Lord ! I believe that Thou art the
Christ, the Son of God, which should come into the world.'

TJie Raising of Lazaviis. ly^

Fortified, comforted, and encouraged by this solemn adjura-
tion, and her consequent confession of faith, she seeks Mary,
the sorrowing, saying, ' The Master is come, and calleth for thee.'
Then Mary rose up quickly — sorrow, love, joy, all struggling
within her breast — she hastens to meet her beloved Master ;
and when she saw Him, she fell down in adoration at His feet,
her whole nature rent with conflicting emotions, which found
vent in a great passionate cry of mingled lamentation and faith,
* Lord, if Thou hadst been here, my brother had not died !'

The miracles performed by our Lord, during his ministry on
earth, although so numerous, and of so various a character,
were not merely exhibitions of a boundless and arbitrary power,
but were all performed in accordance with Divine order ; and
therefore all bore important meanings, and especial significa-
tions. If we carefully examine any one of them, we shall find
it conveys a spiritual lesson, more or less complete — a lesson
which we shall do well to endeavour to unveil, and use (as was
intended) for our own spiritual benefit. Like the parables, they
teach, by correspondences and analogies, transcendent truths,
more or less deeply hidden from superficial view, but which
only demand reflection and study, to yield rich fruits of wisdom,
of the highest kind. The miracles were, in fact, in many cases,
acted parables ; by which the double result was obtained, of
giving relief to suffering humanity in this world, and imparting
knowledge of spiritual things to those who were willing to
search for them, and ready to receive them, when found.

None of the miracles were of a character injurious to hu-
manity— none, like those of the succeeding Apostles, were of
a destructive nature ; all, with perhaps the single exception of
the barren fig-tree, were of a conservative character; all were
miracles of mercy, indicative of the power and the will of the
Saviour of sinners — who came to seek and to save that which
was lost — to do to the utmost that which He had promised,
and for which He was come into the world; viz., for the heal-
ing of the sick — the restoration of the lame — the giving of

174 iV^za Studies in Christian Theology.

sight to the blind, and hearing to the deaf — the cleansing of
the utterly defiled leper — or, last and greatest triumph of all,
the raising of the dead. ... Of this last great miracle, the ex-
amples recorded are not numerous. Christ did not come into
the world to conquer the death of the natural body. Had he
done so, He would not have been our friend ; that death is a
salutary and orderly law of nature ; and He came to fulfil the
law at all points, both natural and spiritual. He was Divine
Order itself, and therefore could not be come to disturb Divine
Order : of which the natural death, and the consequent release
of the imprisoned soul, is one of the most obvious, and most
gracious of institutions. He was the Physician of souls ; and
therefore all His natural operations, as well as all His spiritual
teachings, had reference to the life after death, and to the sal-
vation of the immortal soul. His acts, therefore, of raising
from the dead, were few in number. The widow's son — the
ruler's daughter ; these were sufficient to point great morals —
to illustrate the great spiritual truths connected with life and
death ; and these great truths are more fully, and most unmis-
takably elucidated and summed up, as it were, in the beautiful
narrative providentially recorded by St. John; and which is
more particularly the subject of these remarks.

It is therefore beyond a doubt that, in raising from the dead,
our Saviour purposed to set forth the great and sublime truth
of the victory over spiritual death. It was this victory which
He had come into the world to achieve — and without which
conquest all the world must have succumbed to the dominion
of sin, which necessarily involved spiritual death. ' The soul
that sinneth, it shall die,' saith the Prophet Ezekiel (xviii. 4) ;
and the spirit of this condemnation is echoed throughout the
Divine Word. * The wages of sin is death ' (Rom. vi. 23) :
Old and New Testament alike confirming the Law in this
respect. There is no escape from what is an inherent law of
our spiritual nature — that sin is spiritual death ; and it is only
the lying subtlety of the old serpent v/hich whispers, ' Ye shall
not surely die.'

The Raising of Lazarus. 175

The Divine Word consists entirely of exhortations to repen-
tance, rational appeals for reformation, and lessons, illustra-
tions, and experiences in regeneration. By far the greater
part of the Word is devoted to this last subject — the subject
of the most vital importance to the human race. It is Re-
generation— of which repentance and reformation are but the
necessary preliminaries and preludes, and first initiatory stages,
as it were — which is the proper work of the life of every man.
Since all have sinned, it is necessary that every man (and each
for himself) must retrace the steps by which he has fallen from
holiness, and everyone work out his own salvation with fear
and trembling ; remembering that it is God which worketh in
us. The difficulties, drawbacks, hindrances, and backslidings
— the progressions, advances, triumphs, and perfection of this
regenerate life, are all mirrored in the Word of God, as en-
couragement, spur, and reward to him who undertakes,
perseveres, and ultimately triumphs; and in its multiform
teaching, there is something to meet every case, even in the
many-sided aspect of the most varied human nature. It is an
exhaustless well, from which the weak, and such as are babes
in spirit, may derive milk to nourish and strengthen them —
the strong, the active, and the faithful, may draw water to
comfort and refresh them — and where the weary and the
heavy-laden may find wine, to restore and support their
wrestling and tempted souls.

The sickness of Lazarus was evidently representative of that
sickness of soul, which is the result of sin. For there is a just
and exact correspondence between spiritual and bodily sick-
ness. As in the sick body, when one member suffers, all the
members suffer with it, so it is with the soul ; and, as an ap-
parently small offence against the laws of health may entail
severe disease — so with the soul ; if a man offend in one com-
mandment, he is guilty of all. Jesus was the physician of
souls. ' They that be whole,' He said, ' need not a physician,
but they that are sick' (Matt. ix. 12). Hence, He went
about 'healing all manner of sickness, and all manner of

176 New Studies in Christian Theology.

disease among the people' (Matt. iv. 23) — to represent that
He was their restorer and Saviour from * all those practical
disorders of the life, which arose from evil lusts, and false
persuasions, brought itiio life ' — and hence, as St. Matthew
saySj ' that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by Esaias
the prophet, saying. Himself took our infirmities, and bare
our sicknesses' (viii. 17): not meaning that He suffered the
punishment due to us, and thus by a vicarious sacrifice averted
upon Himself the just reward of our sins — as some would say
— but that by taking our nature upon Him, He was able to
meet temptation upon the common ground of humanity ; and
by obtaining the victory over these temptations, He was thus
enabled to succour us, and effect our regeneration.

But there is a sickness which is unto death, and there is a
sickness which is not unto death. When Jesus heard that
Lazarus was sick, He said, * This sickness is not unto death,
but for the glory of God, that the Son of God might be
glorified thereby ;' by which He meant that although the
severity of the sickness \yas such that seeming death would
result, that death would not be so utter and irremediable but
that He, the Saviour of sinners, would be able to restore him
from a condition which, as far as regarded all human aid, was
an utterly lost one. * And you hath He quickened, who were
dt'cid in trespasses and sins' (Eph. ii. i). Such an act would
not only show forth God's power and glory, but would also
strikingly exhibit the mercy and long-suffering of a God who
waits to be gracious. Our Saviour, therefore, did not imme-
diately repair to the house of Lazarus ; nor did He even send
a message of life to the sick man, as He could easily have
done ; but (we are told) He abode two days in the same place
where he was ; and after that, prepared to go to Bethany.

Meanwhile, He needed not that anyone should tell Him
of the condition of His friend. ' Our friend Lazarus sleepeth ;
but I go, that I may awake him out of sleep.' Asleep ! yes, he,
the good man, the friend of Jesus, was, as respects the natural
processes of Hfe, gone to rest ; he had fallen asleep, as the first

TJie Raising of Lazarus. I77

martyr, Stephen, fell asleep while he yet blessed his murderers.
But Lazarus here represented, in a type, the spiritually dead,
of whom it was said, ' Awake, thou that sleepest, and arise
from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light' (Eph. v. 14) ;
and Christ Himself was here in bodily presence to wake him
out of sleep. His sleep was one from which it was yet possible
for him to awake ; sleep indeed, numbness, insensibility, but not
yet the hopeless sleep of those of whom the Prophet Jeremiah
speaks (li. 7), ' And they shall sleep a perpetual sleep, and not
wake, saith the King, whose name is the Lord of Hosts.'

Our Lord's disciples (who nearly always took His sayings
literally) said, ' Lord, if he sleep, he shall do well.' They
thought it was the crisis of his disease, from which he would
awake restored and refreshed ; and so it was, but not in the
sense in which they regarded it. It was the crisis ; the soul,
immersed in self-love in evils and falses, in worldliness and
lusts, has become so absorbed in them, that it no longer hears
the voice of warning, or of exhortation to repentance ; all out-
ward access from spiritual influences is closed, the externals of
good and truth are utterly thrown aside, and no pretence is
made of either spirituality or religion ; while the interiors of the
mind are rapidly sinking into the same condition. Should
they finally become closed also, there is no further hope — -the
sleep is one which must be perpetual, and from which there is
no awaking. But should there yet be a chink in the ruined
habitation of the soul for the admission of celestial light, should
there yet remain a faint curl of smoke from the desecrated
altar of the heart, there is yet hope of a tardy awakenings
there is yet hope that the Divine influence, like gentle showers
upon a parched land, may even now have effect, and raise the
stubborn soul, when all help seems vain ; so that He, who
wills not that any may perish, but that all should come to
repentance, may yet say, ' For this my son was dead, and is
alive again ; was lost, and is found !' (Luke xv. 24).

The ultimate result of Lazarus' sickness had been already
indicated by our Lord's declaration, ' I go that I may awaken

12

178 New Studies in Christimt Theology.

him out of sleep.' When, therefore, it is added, 'Then said
Jesus unto them plainly, Lazarus is dead,' it is evidently in-
tended to indicate that he was (to all human seeming) dead ;
dead, indeed, as to all outward indications of life ; dead as to
all external power to restore him ; dead beyond the reach of
any influence less than the Divine. As representing the dead
soul, he was in a condition which no exhortation, no example,
no expostulation could avail to mitigate ; the presence of God
in the heart, and that alone, could warm its coldness, melt its
hardness, or raise it again into life. Christ's approach repre-
sents the voice of God speaking to the impenitent heart; He
must not remain at a distance, or the resurrection could not be
effected ; but by some means, of which He has infinite com-
mand, He can so dispose, that even the dead heart may
become conscious of His nearness, and be roused from its fatal
and lethargic slumber.

The grand and glorious words of our Saviour to Martha give
the clue to this spiritual renewal of what was seemingly dead :
' Jesus saith unto her, Thy brother shall rise again. Martha
saith unto Him, I know that he shall rise again in the resurrec-
tion at the last day. Jesus saith unto her, I am the Resurrec-
tion and the Life^ he that believeth in Me, though he were
dead, yet shall he live. And whosoever liveth and believeth in
Me shall never die.'

Only of the spiritually dead could this be said — and only
He, who was the Author of Life, could say it. And He came,
not to prolong our natural lives, but to give unto each and all
of us spiritual and eternal life. By His own Divine work on
earth, by which He suffered and endured temptation, and
glorified His human nature, that it might be conjoined with
His Divine essence, He has become the Author of our victory
over sin, of our triumph over evil and self — and thus of our
regeneration ; whereby we shall not come into condemnation,
but are passed from death unto life, 'according as His Divine
power hath given us all things that pertain unto life and godli-
ness' (2 Peter i. 3).

The Raising of La::arits. 1 79

There is, however, as we have said, a sickness which is unto
death, and a sickness which is not unto death. No man who
is absolutely and entirely dead in a spiritual sense, can be
brought to life again. No man in whom all goodness is utterly
cast out, and the interiors of whose mind are hermetically
sealed against Divine influences, can ever be restored again to
spiritual health. There must be some remains of goodness —
there must be some remnants of conscience — there must be
some corner of the heart from which all warmth has not de-
parted— there must be some portion of the proud and self-
willed spirit which is softer than adamant ; or if otherwise,
where can there be a basis for the operation of the Divine influ-
ences ? If a man obstinately follows evil ways, and confirms
himself in them ; if he diligently sets himself to shut out
God's Holy Spirit, and mocks at it, and profanes it, he be-
comes dead indeed ; he has perversely driven away the only
power which can operate upon his benighted soul. Then has
come to pass what was spoken by the Prophet Isaiah (xxvi. 14),
' They are dead, they shall not live ; they are deceased, they
shall not rise.' For such there is no hope. . . . But the rem-
nant may be very small, from which the natural man first
begins to make the ascent from a state of de \th to one of life.
The Lord alone knows how small may be the beginnings of the
regenerate life, from out of which He will make an angel — as,
from a grain of mustard-seed, may spring a tree, in the branches
of which the birds of the air take shelter. But it is He alone
who can work this change, by the beneficent influences of His
Holy Spirit ; for, with God, all things are possible : even to
the raising to life of the seeming dead.

So also, from a consideration of the analogy which we know
to exist between spiritual and natural things, we might judge
that the death of the body was of a similar gradual character ;
and of the truth of the analogy, we can have no doubt.
Physicians are aware that the signs of death are sometimes
apparently all present, and yet vitality may re-appear after a
longer or shorter interval. It has sometimes unfortunately hap-

i8o Nezv Studies in Christian Theology.

pened that a person who has undergone all the signs and
accompaniments of dissolution, and has been regarded by
his friends as irrecoverably dead, has nevertheless recovered
life and consciousness, after interment ; and that, although
the apparently dead body has been kept above ground, and
watched, for the accustomed time before it was consigned to
the tomb. In such sad cases, of course, there has been but
little change in the appearance of the lifeless body, before inter-
ment ; but such change is of a very uncertain character ; and
the period of time which elapses before it makes its appearance
is also dependent upon very various and occult causes.

Physiologists have distinguished between somatic death (or
the death of the entire organism), and molecular death (or the
death of its component parts) ; and this molecular death is
delayed, or hastened, according to the nature of the disease,
and the amount of vitality existing immediately anterior to the
moment of dissolution. In cases of disease of long duration,
for example, it often happens that the bodily organs are so
deteriorated, that they can, as it were, no longer hold life ; but
in cases of another kind : such as the sudden death, by drown-
ing, of a person otherwise in robust health ; if the immersion
has not been protracted beyond a certain length of time, it is
well known that life may be restored after a longer or shorter
appliance of the proper means — that is, of those taught by
experience ; and notwithstanding that the person may be, to all
appearance, dead.

Now, the physiologist, although he is aware of these facts,
and also that the last breath is, as a rule, the signal of the
cessation of life — as far as human means of recovery go — yet
he has not yet been taught by his science to distinguish the
precise moment of separation between the soul and the body.
That it does not follow immediately on the last breath, is
highly probable, and may be considered almost certain. In
cases of trance the body may remain as if dead, and yet the
soul be, as it were, actively perceptive; and it is not impro-
bable, that during the struggle of the separation of soul from

The Raising of Lazarus. l8l

body, a sort of spiritual insensibility may occur which may last
for a longer or shorter period ; and, until that separation has
entirely taken place, the man, although he may be virtually
declared dead, yet is not so dead, but that under certain
pecuHar and little understood conditions a reunion might be
conceived possible.

At all events, although past all human aid, and dead, as far
as all natural surroundings and influences were concerned, it
would be by no means difficult to conceive it an easy matter
for our blessed Lord, the Prince of Life, by an exercise of His
Divine power, to reestablish the as yet not fully broken con-
nection between the soul and the body, which would be in all
respects a restoration to life — a miracle, which could only be
worked by the power of the Lord — yet according to order —
and, in all respects, representative of the passing from death
unto life ; which spiritual miracle it is the prerogative of the
Lord and Giver of Life 07ily, to effect.*

When Jesus commanded those present to take away the
stone, Martha, the external, saith unto Him, ' Lord, by this
time he stinketh, for he hath been dead four days.' Knowing
how rapidly decomposition sets in in warm climates, we are
aware that Martha's suggestion was not an unreasonable one,
and was probably founded upon experience. There is no
reason, however, to suppose that Martha's opinion in this
instance was correct. It was given before the stone was
removed, and was not repeated or corroborated after the
removal. Jesus only replied to her, ' Said I not, that if thou
wouldst believe, thou shouldst see the glory of God ?'

If, indeed, Lazarus was in the condition suggested above, it

would be highly improbable that decomposition had set in ; nor

would the spiritual correspondence be otherwise perfect. The

decomposition of the body would have been significant of that

corruption of the soul, which could not take its rise from mere

* Let us be perfectly understood. We conceive the state of the buried
Lazarus to have been that of one, who though not absolutely and physio-
logically dead, was yet quite beyond the power of any human means of
restoration.

1 82 Nciv Studies in Christian Theology.

evil and falsity, but from profanation only — the profanation of
goodness and truth, which is that sin against the Holy Ghost,
which shall not be forgiven a man. Had he seen corruption
there would have been no possibility of recalling him to life ;
then would he have been dead indeed. But however dead
the soul may be, however evil and false, unless these evils
and falses are confirmed — unless good and truth have been
profaned, and an utter corruption, demoralization, and degra-
dation of the soul have ensued — Christ still stands at the door
and knocks; there is still hope that the lethargic soul may
hear, and open the door, be it ever so little, so that He, who
came to proclaim liberty to the captive, and the opening of
the prison to them that are bound, might yet enter, and bind
up their spiritual wounds, and heal their spiritual diseases.
For, saith the Prophet Isaiah (xlii. 3), ' A bruised reed shall
He not break, and the smoking flax shall He not quench, till
He send forth judgment unto victory.'

Then they removed the stone from the tomb ; and when He
had held communion with His Divine nature — in which com-
munion He brought into operation that union of love with
wisdom which was the essence of His Divine-Human character,
and which gave its possessor all power over sin and death — he
cried with a loud voice, ' Lazarus, come forth !' And the dead
heard the voice of love, and the words of wisdom ; the dead
felt the genial warmth of Divine affection, and opened his
heavy eyes to the dazzling rays of Divine truth ; and he that
was dead came forth, in obedience to the omnipotent com-
mand. Bound, indeed, was he, hand and foot, with grave-
clothes — fettered with garments unfit for the living, — like a
soul hampered with rigid ceremonials and narrow creeds —
the body of a Church from which life has departed : his face was
bound about with a napkin — by which every perceptive faculty
of the mind was restrained or concealed, all the mental
powers narrowed, and the spiritual vision darkened. But the
Saviour finished His gracious purpose, and consummated His
miraculous interposition by saying, ' Loose him, and let him

TJie Raising of Laaariis. 183

go.' Then were his bonds severed, then were his fetters
broken, then was his enfranchisement complete, then was he
passed from death unto life.

Thus was this great spiritual drama brought to a sublime
conclusion, and thus is the pregnant language of Scripture
vindicated, laden with deep meaning — with absorbing interest
— with transcendent importance. Grand as is the episode in
its literal sense — wondrously. varied as are the emotions it calls
up in every breast, as we follow the sisters through their suc-
cessive phases of alarm, suspense, anxiety, and grief, to despair;
then upwards through hope and faith to ultimate triumph and
joy — the deep spiritual meaning of every word of the narrative
cannot fail to convey to our minds admiration, consolation,
and peace. The solemn tones of our Lord's announcement
to Martha, ' I am the resurrection and the life !' are heard
through the whole wonderful story, like a glorious refrain ;
they sound in the ears throughout like the keynote of some
mighty organ through a noble anthem — and they bring serenity
to the tumultuous soul, like a supernal voice which utters
above the roar of a tempest, ' Peace, be still !'

In moments of temptation — in hours of darkness — in the
depths of despair — in the valley of the shadow of death, — we
may, if we will, have this luminous form by our side, and this
still small voice in our ears, ' He that believeth in Me, though
he were dead, yet shall he live ; and whosoever liveth, and
believeth in Me, shall never die.'

LECTURE XXI.

WHO IS GREATEST IN THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN ?

' At the same time came the disciples unto Jesus, saying, Who is the
greatest in the kingdom of heaven ? And Jesus called a little child unto
Him, and set him in the midst of them, and said. Verily I say unto you,
Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter
into the kingdom of heaven.' — Matt, xviii. 1-3.

The incident here described is not without a parallel in the
teachings of our Lord, and for an obvious reason. It was the
case in a marked degree with the Jews of that day, that self-
righteousness had eaten like a canker into the heart of society,
and certain classes of men had persuaded themselves that they
were more fit for heaven than their neighbours. When the
Pharisee and the publican met at their devotions in the temple,
the Pharisee praised God that he was not as other men are ;
he was no extortioner, no unjust man ; he was not even like
this publican. In other words, the outside of his cup and
platter were cleanly washed, and what had he to do with the
inside ? The publican, on the other hand, presented no fair
exterior, but he was washed within ; and our Lord's commen-
tary on the transaction we know to have been, ' I tell you this
man' {i.e., the publican) 'went down to his house justified rather
than the other.' For God looketh not to the outward appear-
ance— He seeth not as man seeth, but He looketh at the
heart.

The proud Pharisees, the learned Scribes, and the astute
lawyers, were wont to look down upon their poorer neighbours
as from a more lofty spiritual pinnacle, and to say by their
looks, if not by their actual words, ' Stand aside, for I am

IV/io is Greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven? 185

holier than thou.' Utterly wanting in real spirituality of heart,
they entirely mistook their own condition, and by a fatal error,
believed that their own measurement of themselves was the
standard by which they would be judged by God Himself. It
was a comfortable doctrine that they were the elect, and that
other men were publicans and sinners, and it is one to which
the human heart is prone in all ages of the world. We cannot
say we are free from it ourselves ; indeed, we cannot be free
from it, for it is one of the snares and deceits of the natural
man, and one from which we can only free ourselves by putting
aside the natural man, and delivering ourselves from its fatal
thraldom.

But this was an evil which our Lord well understood, and
which He, on several occasions, combated, setting before His
disciples, as well as before the more obdurate Scribes and
Pharisees, an example of what a spiritual nature really was.
He Himself always gave them an example of meekness and
humility; He showed them that they must be servants — that
they must ever be ready to minister one to the other — that He
who would be chief among them must be the servant of the
rest. He Himself, their Head and Chief, in a sense far beyond
anything they could themselves understand, by washing their
feet, gave them the clearest and most direct proof that, in
spiritual matters, self was to be entirely subordinated to a desire
for use and benefit to others. ' If I then, your Lord and
Master, wash your feet, so ought ye to wash one another's
feet ;' or, in other words, to consider it your first duty to lay
your whole hfe and powers at the service of your fellow-beings;
believing that, by so doing, you are but carrying out the object
for which you were placed here among them, and also best
fitting yourself for that condition of happiness which you hope
to attain in the world to come.

But this is not our natural bent. By nature we all crave to
have court paid to us, to have rule over others ; we are ever
prone to think better of ourselves than others, and to consider
that more is due to ourselves than we owe to others. This, of

1 86 Neiv Studies in Christian Theology.

course, arises from the great master-passion, love of self, which
is that very evil we have to conquer and subvert. If we could
once persuade ourselves that other human beings are formed in
the same mould as ourselves — that our fellow-creatures are as
much the care of our common Cxeator as we ourselves are —
that any fancied superiority in ourselves was due to no parti-
cular merit of our own, but was, as far as it was real, a boon
for which we should be grateful, and which we should endeavour
to repay by using that superiority for the benefit of others —
then we shall no longer rate ourselves above the rest of man-
kind, but shall find our delight in being ministers to the wants
of others less favoured than ourselves. In other words, we
should have conquered self — we should have obtained a victory
over the natural man — we should have expelled the old Adam
— we should, in short, be cotiverted.

When, therefore, the question arose among the disciples,
' Which is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven ?' it was re-
ferred by them to their Master ; who at once replied by calling
a little child unto Him, and setting him in the midst of them,
saying, ' Except ye be converted, and become as little children,
ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven !'

The disciples had, before this, had lessons in true greatness.
Already had our Lord assured them (Matt. v. 19), ' Whosoever
shall do and teach the commandments, the same shall be called
great in the kingdom of heaven.' To which also He had ap-
pended as a corollary, ' That except your righteousness shall
exceed the righteousness of the Scribes and Pharisees, ye shall
in no case enter into the kingdom of heaven.' They need not,
therefore, have asked the question of our Lord, if they had
attended to His teaching ; and it is another added to the many
proofs that their understandings were dull, and their minds
little receptive of the beautiful doctrines, at once so new and
so striking, which they were continually hearing from His
mouth. Even after the present lesson it seems that the same
question recurred again — for St. Luke tells us (xxii. 24), that
even after the Holy Supper, ' there was also a strife among

JV/^0 is Greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven? 187

them, which of them should be accounted the greatest ' — when
our Lord replied to them, ' He that is greatest among you, let
him be as the younger; and he that is chief, as he that doth
serve ' —a reply, in spirit, not unlike that which He gave on the
occasion to which we have previously referred.

But we are justified in supposing that the reply of our Lord
upon this occasion was a surprise to His disciples — and one
which was not by any means palatable to them. It was too
great a fall to their innate pride of heart to be told that they
must lay it all aside, and become simple and docile as children.
Doubtless, at first blush, they would be ready to misinterpret
the injunction. 'Children!' they might exclaim. 'We are
men — we have put off childish things — we cannot become
children again.' To them, to be like little children, would be
as hard as was the saying to Nicodemus that he must be born
again. Can a man be born twice? Can a man be twice a
child — or twice an infant ? But this reasoning would have
arisen from the error of confusing childishness with childUke-
ness. To be childish is only allowed in children ; it is the
pardonable prerogative of immaturity — the weakness of the
young, who have had no experience — who have as yet learnt
no wisdom, but who are yet children in growth, and children
in knowledge ; from whom we expect only that charming kind
of fatuousness which sits becomingly upon a child, but which in
an adult would be simply pitiable. The ungrammatical prattle,
the inconsecutive chatter, the tiny interests, and the simple
objects of a child's amusements, are all characteristic of the
early years of our life, and are therefore natural and beautiful :
but in an adult they would be painful, shocking, and suggestive of
idiocy. But yet this is what would first strike those who were told
they were to be as little children ; whereas, what was intended
was, solely, that they should be childlike — that is, innocent,
simple, truthful, loving, and trusting — for these are the natural
qualities of the unsophisticated nature of man, and these are
the qualities the child exhibits ere the corruption of worldli-
ness, the contamination of evil influences, the discovery and

1 88 Neiv Studies in CJivistian Theology.

inordinate love of self steps in and deteriorates the beautiful
nature which we all possess in our earliest years.

Childhood is, indeed, a great gift to all God's creatures, and
which they all in turn possess. However stern, hard, inflexible,
and unsympathetic a man may have become from the influ-
ences which the world itself may have exercised upon his heart,
there has been a time when he was the reverse of all these ;
when he was a simple child, happy in the love and tenderness
of those around him — contented with the narrow circle of
childish interests, innocent of evil in thought or intention, in
word or in deed — having no fear of the future, from the full
trust in the present, and in the care of those about him. Yet
how has he changed ! All these beautiful qualities, which
make up childhood, have departed : apparently they are dead
in him, lifeless, extinct. He has chased away that which, if
cultivated, would have fitted him to be an angel, and he has
welcomed and hugged to himself all those qualities of heart
and soul which are the reverse of those in which he grew up
from infancy; and with what object? A man's object in life
is happiness. Everyone runs after that which he thinks will
afford him most happiness. But, unfortunately, ideas of
happiness in our corrupt state are false and futile. One man
places his supreme happiness in riches, which perish and fade
away ; another, in honours, which are but a visionary shadow ;
others, again, still more foolishly, in wicked pleasures, which
stunt the soul's growth, and unfit them for heaven. How few
find pleasure, in after-years, in the simplicity they possessed in
childhood — in the humane sympathy which was then their
natural characteristic — in the innocent enjoyments, free from
worldly glare and glitter, which sufficed to content them in
earlier years— in the faith and trust in those about them which
once afforded them supreme content, and unmixed happi-

ness

No ; it is unfortunately the case that we cannot be always
children. We have been children once, in order that we may
pass through the phase of innocence, and have, as it were,

JV/io is Greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven? 189

experience of innocence. Although man is born to evil as the
sparks fly upward — although man is a fallen creature who
cannot raise himself from his lost position without Divine aid
— nevertheless he is brought into the world in a condition of
personal innocence ; and during the years of later infantile and
of child life, he remains more or less in that condition ; so that
he is thus in a condition to receive from above such promptings
and inspirations as could not possibly be afforded in the adult
and hardened condition.

On the plastic and harmless mind of a child the Lord im-
presses lessons of good and of truth ; in their young hearts
are stored up spiritual principles which are available to keep
them, at a later period of life, from wandering far from the
paths of holiness. Were it not so, no man could possibly
arrive at the kingdom of heaven. Were all men inducted into
the world at the age when their eyes are opened to perceive
and distinguish good from evil, they would infallibly, in con-
sonance with the dictates of their fallen nature, choose the
evil, and neglect the good, and be irretrievably lost. But God
has graciously ordered it otherwise, and, in His infinite wisdom,
has ordained that we should pass first through this golden
period of childhood, and thus share the benefits of the instil-
ment of Divine and spiritual principles and thoughts into minds
most fitted to receive them.

It is true that, as time goes on, and we pass from this golden
stage of our existence into the realities of life; the cares of the
world, the love of self, and all the disturbing elements which
so largely enter into our active battle of life, by degrees dim
these early impressions — by degrees supplant them, and place
in their stead evil propensities, unworthy objects, wicked
thoughts, and false principles. But yet there is always left a
remnant of those spiritual goods which we came to possess in
our youth — they never quite leave us ; and we always have the
possibility of their being revived and brought once more into
prominence — of their being so awakened from the torpid
slumber of adult age as to be presented to our minds in new

1 90 Neiu Studies in Christian Theology.

and beautiful forms, which recommend themselves for our
acceptance and cultivation, in the midst of the shallow and
artificial glamour of more perishable things. And this is their
value to us — that they are there — that, even in the wildest
orgies of a career of sin, we have yet within us principles of
good and truth, which, though dormant, may yet be awakened,
and bring forth fruit to repentance and a new life.

Therefore it is that our Lord declares, ' Verily I say unto
you, Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye
shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven.' For, observe, in
our first childhood, we need no conversion. All the beautiful
qualities which have been referred to as existing in the child,
are there by virtue, as it were, of the nature of things, of the
order of the creation.

We are born personally innocent and good ; but we, by
degrees, show that we inherit principles of evil, dependent on
the fall ; and our personal innocence and goodness gradually
leave us, and give place to the universal hardening which en-
cases the heart, sears the spirit, and places us all alike without
the pale of heaven.

To be restored, therefore, to our pristine state of innocence,
we must be converted. As children, we needed not conversion.
As children, therefore, we were fitted for heaven, and doubtless
would be received there under suitable conditions of instruc-
tion and perfecting, accomplished by its influences. But, as
adults, we have all passed the Rubicon of the Fall, which has
separated us from heaven ; and therefore we must all be con-
verted, and return to that state which we have hereditarily lost.
We must be convinced of the superiority of those qualities
which we once possessed and have now forfeited ; and we
must feel an urgent desire to repossess them and make them a
part of our better nature. But we can never repossess those
qualities upon the same terms as we had them before. We
cannot be real children again, as we have seen, without being
not only childlike, but also once more childish. But having
once learned wisdom — having once tasted of the tree of know-

IV/io is Greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven ? 191

ledge of good and evil — it is impossible that the bitter-sweet
taste can ever depart from us. We cannot drink of the waters
of Lethe, and forget that we have known evil as well as good
—we cannot even cease to remember the good, nor can we
ever forget the evil : but we must learn to refuse the evil and
to choose the good — and thus we shall fulfil the purpose for
which we are placed here. For the innocence in which we
were born was the innocence which could not do wrong. It
was the innocence which springs from ignorance of evil.
Hence its charm, even to the wicked, who never fail to admire
good in the abstract, although they give themselves over unre-
strainedly to evil.

Such innocence is enviable, admirable ; but it is not the
highest kind of innocence. Such innocence is the innocence
of the lamb — but it is the innocence of the brute generally ;
for it is irresponsible — it is a necessity — it arises from no free-
dom of choice— it is a gift from God, given in the particular
case of children, with the wise and merciful purpose which has
already been alluded to — viz., to afford a virgin page for the
impression of good thoughts and spiritual principles ; which
impressions cannot be ever effaced without the cooperation of
the recipient, to his own destruction and ruin.

But when we are converted and become as little children
again, we are no longer in the innocence of ignorance. We
cannot lay aside our knowledge like a garment, but we must be
at once innocent and wise. We must have seen not only inno-
cence, but we must also have a full appreciation of guilt. Our
innocence must not only be a free gift, but also a deliberate
acquisition. Our innocence must be not a mere necessity of
circumstances, but also the prize of success in a fierce struggle,
in which we have come off as more than conquerors. We are
no longer in the position that we caji not do evil — but in which
we will not do it. Our innocence is no longer irresponsible,
like that of the brute — but a chosen better part, which must be
maintained and upheld against all difficulties and temptations,
even if it should cost us tears of blood.

192 Neiu Studies in Christian Theology.

This is the innocence of wisdom. This is the innocence to
which we must be converted. This it is which is meant by
becoming as Httle children. Of such as these is the kingdom of
heaven composed — of innocent children who have been taught
wisdom, and of wise people who have taught themselves
innocence. We who have passed the stage of childhood's
innocence, have it yet in our power to become converted to
the innocence of wisdom ; we have it yet in our power to
become once more as little children, when we forsake the false
and shallow wisdom of the world, and resume once more the
angelic qualities of love, trust, truth, simplicity, and innocence,
which once possessed ourselves, and which we still admire and
reverence in our children. Thus, and thus alone, can we fit
ourselves for heaven. Thus, and thus alone, can we ' wash our
robes, and make them white in the blood of the I.amb.'

fc«'

LECTURE XXII.

ON THIS ROCK WILL I BUILD MY CHURCH.

' And I say also unto thee, that thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will
build My Church ; and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.' —
Matt. xvi. i8.

It is a phenomenon not a little remarkable, that in this world
results seem very often out of all proportion to their causes.
' Behold,' says the Apostle (James iii. 5), 'how great a matter a
little fire kindleth !' and indeed a spark is sufficient to produce
a conflagration — a shade of doctrine is sufficient to establish a
heresy — a word is basis enough upon which to build a world-
wide organization.

Among the Apostles there were all possible varieties of
character, all shades of mental specialty. Some represented
faith, some love, some were full of trust, some steeped in
incredulity, some sedate and constant, some impetuous and
fiery. All but one were true, and sincere in the desire of
their hearts to receive from their Master the words of eternal
life — to follow in His footsteps, and to imitate in their humble
way His great example — to extend His doctrine, and to teach
His sayings. When He asked them if they also would leave
Him, their answer was, ' Lord, to whom should we go ? Thou
hast the words of eternal life !' And although, like erring mortals
as they were, their faith failed them in critical moments, it was
no proof of disbelief or innate depravity, but only the result of
the weakness of their human nature, which could not cope
with great difficulties, could not meet important crises with the
equanimity which they demanded ; and their temporary back-

13

194 Neiv Studies in Christian TJieology.

sliding was only the signal for a renewed and more earnest
stride forward towards the goal.

We have in the Gospels records of such backslidings and
imperfections in more than one Apostle. Thomas would never
believe unless he could thrust his fingers into the wounds of
his risen Lord. Some disciples incurred His rebuke for ex-
hibiting too much ambition, too much desire of domination ;
others for their want of faith, which prevented them from
casting out devils ; others again for their want of perception,
and the hardness of their heart. How often He addressed
them, ' Oh ye of little faith !' and when the last supreme moment
came, they all forsook Him and fled. How far from perfect
was this little band, called out of the world by the Lord Him-
self ! How weak, how feeble the staff on which He seemed
to lean, when He committed to this small imperfect band of
followers the things belonging to the future Church on earth,
the spreading abroad of the good seed of His heavenly doctrine
which was hereafter destined to revolutionize, not society, not
the Jewish nation only, but the whole race of mankind.

But if the disciples proved themselves but weak and erring,
there was one among them whose errors were either greater
than those of the rest, or at all events, they are, for valid
reasons, more strictly recorded than the faults and weaknesses
of any other of the disciples. There was one who exhibited
in his many-sided character a singular mixture of impulsive-
ness and of hesitation, of valour and of cowardice. Peter, the
representative of faith and truth, on more than one occasion,
called upon himself the serious rebuke of his Master, because
of his hastiness, his want of trust, his indecision. Like the
other disciples, Peter was carried away by the beauty of
Christ's teaching ; he was ready, when called, to make sacri-
fices for His sake ; and when our Lord saw Simon, called
Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea, and
saith unto them, Follow Me, and I will make you fishers of
men — behold, they straightway left their nets, and followed Him.
Peter, too, was a humble-minded man, ready to perceive the

'On this Rock ivill I Build My CJiurch! 195

imperfections in himself; and his own want of holiness and
righteousness came home to him with great force, when, in the
miracle of the draught of fishes, he recognised the power of
Christ, and was constrained to cry out, falling down at Jesus'
feet, ' Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord !' (Luke
V. 8). Our Lord reassured His conscience-stricken disciple,
and repeated to him His promise, saying, 'Fear not ; from
henceforth thou shalt catch men.^

In no case did the Apostle Peter exhibit more forcibly at
once the strength and the weakness of his character, than on
that occasion when in the fourth watch of the night, the ship
being on the lake, tossed by the waves, Jesus went unto them,
walking upon the water. The trembling disciples cried out for
fear, saying, ' It is a spirit ;' but when Jesus spake unto them,
saying, ' It is I, be not afraid,' then the impulsive Peter was
the first to recover his courage, and even to exclaim, ' Lord, if
it be Thou, bid me come unto Thee on the water ! And He
said, Come.' But his courage was of short duration ; his faith,
which had effervesced at the recognition of Christ, suddenly
sank again when he saw the wind boisterous, and the sea
tossed with waves ; and in proportion as his courage failed, as
a necessary concomitant, his body began to sink beneath the
waters, and a wild, despairing cry succeeded his shortUved
confidence, ' Lord, save me !' And the Lord did save him,
only rebuking his weakness with the kindly expostulation, ' Oh
thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt !' Too bold —
and too timid ! Too confident in himself in the moment of
safety — too timid when the danger came ! He should have
reversed the order — he should timidly have left the safety of
the ship, and boldly have stood upon the raging sea, leaning
upon the supporting arm of Christ.

Peter's appreciation of our Lord's mission appears under
somewhat conflicting lights. In the portion of the Gospel
from which our subject is taken, it would seem that he, at all
events, if none other of the disciples, fully understood the
character of Christ. His famous acknowledgment of his Lord,

196 New Studies in Christian Theology.

in answer to the distinct challenge, ' But whom say ye that I
am?' is acknowledged by his questioner as complete, satis-
factory, and wholly true. ' Thou art the Christ, the Son of the
living God !' What statement could be more explicit ? what
acknowledgment could be more decisive? what recognition
could be more intelligent? And yet how imperfect was the
Apostle's judgment — how erroneous his understanding of all
but the grand fact of Christ's divinity ! Surely to one so
apparently far-seeing, seemingly so faithful, might be entrusted
some of the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven ! Surely to
the bold confessor of the Godhead of Christ might be confided
some of the counsels of the Father respecting the Son. And
so from that time forth began Jesus to show to His disciples
how that He must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things of
the elders, and chief priests, and Scribes, and be killed, and
be raised again the third day. But this very man, who had
just before recognised Christ as God, immediately displayed
the error, the obliquity, the shallowness of his judgment, by
rebuking his Master, saying, ' Be it far from Thee, O Lord ;
this shall not be unto Thee.' And immediately he, the sinful
man, on whom many would foolishly feign that the Church was
built, must have fallen, withered beneath the just indignation
of his Lord, who was fain to turn upon His weakly-bold
disciple, and adjure him, ' Get thee behind Me, Satan ! for
thou art an offence unto Me ; thou savourest not the things
that be of God, but those that be of men !' What ! shall the
poor sinful disciple presume to correct the counsels of Infinite
Wisdom ! Shall the finite, erring creature dare to arraign the
plans of self-sacrificing mercy, formed by the Infinite Creator !
Yet, doubtless, did our Lord, in His wrath, remember mercy, and
so qualify His rebuke as not to crush His impetuous follower.
* Simon ! Simon !' said his Lord on another occasion, yearn-
ing with pity over his contradictory qualities, over his kindly
trust and dangerous self-confidence. ' Simon, behold, Satan
hath desired to have you, that he may sift you as wheat ; but
/have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not ' (Luke xxii. 31).

* On this Rock zvill I Build My Church.' IC)7

Here we see plainly our Lord's view of Simon's character, and
how fully He appreciated all the dangers which he incurred by
his too implicit trust in his own unaided strength, and by his
tendency to rush into danger without proper preparation to
meet the foe. He was one to whom, humanly speaking,
Christ could not trust to support His cause — one who would
be likely to fail in the hour of trial — one who, while he
appeared the fastest and most trusty of friends, was yet so
imperfect, so vaciliatory, so unreliable, that the cause entrusted
to him would be likely only to suffer injury at his unaided
hands. How, then, on such a inaji could our Lord build His
Church ! How, knowing him as our Lord shows Himself to
have done, can we imagine such a man should have been
singled out as the rock which should be the foundation of the
Church on earth ! Rather a shifting quicksand, unstable as
water ; no strength, no support, could be derived from such a
basis ; and the edifice, so founded, could not fail to have fallen,
totally, irretrievably, and great would have been the fall thereof!
Again did the self-sufficiency of the Apostle discover itself
upon the solemn and important occasion when our Lord
showed His disciples that great example of humility by washing
their feet. For Peter, ever ready to correct his Lord, and to
measure Divine things by his own little standard, exclaimed,
' Lordj dost Thou wash viy feet ?' Jesus, knowing his not un-
worthy motives, and that it was through ignorance he spoke,
gently chided him, saying, ' What I do, thou knowest not now,
but thou shalt know hereafter.' But Peter was obstinate, and
would not be corrected without a sterner rebuke — he resisted
the will of the Lord, and wrapped himself up in his own cloak
of self-confidence, and exclaimed, ' Thou shalt never wash my
feet.' Jesus answered him, ' If I wash thee not, thou hast no
part with Me.' Then it was, as in every case, when his
understanding had asserted itself in vain, his heart was touched
— he grasped suddenly the fact that his Lord must know better
than he ; and he exclaimed remorsefully, ' Lord, not my feet
only, but also my hands and my head !' (John xiii.).

198 New Studies in Christian llieology.

But it was in the last supreme hour of trial that Peter showed
most fully his weakness, his want of true courage — his absolute
cowardice. Not only could he not watch one hour with his
Master, at His bidding, when His spirit needed most comfort
and support; but even when the Lord said, 'My soul is exceeding
sorrowful, even unto death ; tarry ye here and watch with Me \
it was not siifficiejit to keep his slumberous lids from falling.
His words were valiant, but his deeds were far outweighted by
his professions. When he saw danger afar off, he was bold as a
lion — but when it came near, he was timid as a fawn, ' Though
all men shall be offended because of Thee, yet will I not be
offended.' Here was a friend, a trusty supporter, who at all
events could be depended upon, if protestations were of any
avail. Surely a man who thus foresaw the event as it would
happen to others, would be prepared for the same event in
himself, and would avoid it. And if Peter had had more trust
in God, and less in himself, he would not have been handed
down to us as a typical example of the fall to which all are
subject, who trust their own hearts over-much.

His Lord saw through the flimsy veil, and gently, sorrow-
fully, said to him : '"Verily I say unto thee. That this night,
before the cock crow, thou shalt deny Me thrice.' One would
have supposed that Peter, with his protestations yet on his
tongue, would have been horror-stricken at such a prospective
charge from the lips of Christ Himself; that he would have
fallen at His feet, and prayed that he might have been pre-
served from such treason. Had he done so, his prayer would
doubtless have been heard, and he would have escaped what
was afterwards so deep and damning a cause of remorse. But
he did not do so ; but, according to his character, strong in his
own sense of security — blinded by his overweening self-confi-
dence— proud of his own self-derived valour, he hesitated not
to contradict his Master, setting his own poor ignorance against
His omniscience, — measuring the yearning of God's love by the
poor standard of his own puny affection ; and he replied :
' Though I should die with Thee, yet will I not deny Thee !*

' On this Rock zvill I Build My ClmrcJi' 199

Likewise also said they all — but Peter stood foremost — Peter
alone, as far as we know, positively denied Him. The others
forsook Him, and fled — so did Peter; but we do not read of
the others as we do of Peter, that he began to curse and to
swear, saying, ' I know not the man ' (Matt. xxvi.).

How bitterly must those words of the Saviour have recurred
to him which He had spoken, in Luke xii. 8, * I say unto you,
Whosoever shall confess Me before men, him shall the Son of
Man also confess before the angels of God. But he that
denieth Me before men, shall be denied before the angels of
God.' What remorse must have been Peter's — what anguish
for those three days before the resurrection ! What agony of
mind, that he had denied his Saviour, and was unforgiven ;
that our Lord's last look upon him was a look of sad reproach.
Can we doubt that his first thought, when he saw his risen
Lord, was to throw himself in the dust at His feet and implore
forgiveness ? and can we also doubt if his prayer was granted ?

Such, then, was Peter. True-hearted, and well-meaning —
but impetuous, unstable, and weak. Doubtless in after-times,
when he was converted, he became a really valiant supporter
of Christ, ready and willing to lay down his life for His sake ;
but he was not converted at this time — the understanding and
the heart were not in accord in their estimate of his Divine
Master ; he was toilsomely ascending to the point of conver-
sion or regeneration, but had not reached it. ' When thou art
converted^ the Lord said to him, ' strengthen the brethren '
(Lukexxii. 32) — and this, just before his impulsive declaration
of fealty, so soon to be broken. He was not yet regenerated
— but through these trials came his ultimate strength ; and who
can doubt that this last great trial must have been as a fiery
furnace to him, out of which he emerged purified, strengthened,
regenerated. Well did he fulfil his Lord's enjoinment in after-
times — when he was converted ! Great were his services to
the Church, in later years, when it needed support, after its
Head was removed. Then, indeed, did he strengthen the
brethren — then did he feel himself forgiven — and then, in pro-

200 New Studies in Christian Theology.

cess of time, did he die with Christ, according to his promise
— to be raised again with Him to eternal life.

It must have been in a moment of especial illumination and
inspiration that the Apostle made his well-known confession of
faith in the Divinity of Christ. ' Whom do men say that I, the
Son of Man, am ?' It could have been but of small importance
to our Lord what man should say of him — and yet, taken in its
proper sense, it was all-important. For did not Christ descend
and take our nature upon Him, to save sinners ? and how
could He save them, if they denied Him ? if they had no true
ideas of who He, the Son of Man, was ? They knew Him as
the Son of Man — would they also know Him as the Son of
God ? And if they did not thus recognise Him, how could
they come to Him that they might have life ? In the fulfilment
of His gracious plans they must do this, or all would be vain.
Our Lord needed not to ask Peter what men thought of Him ;
but He did so to elicit from Him that statement or declaration
of the truth, to which He could Himself set His seal, to be
handed down as the rock on which His Church was to be
founded. Men were yet undecided who He was. ' Some say
that Thou art John the Baptist ; some Elias ; and others
Jeremias ; or one of the prophets.'

Alas ! all in vain. To say that He was John the Baptist, or
Ehas or Jeremias, might be with the intention of giving Him
honour as a prophet, mighty in word and in deed ; but could
John the Baptist, or Elias, or Jeremias save them from their
sins ? No ! they had been sent (as God's messengers) for that
very purpose, and all the stamp of Jehovah's authority had
failed, signally failed, in them, as a foil to the evil tendencies of
mankind. Esaias had pleaded, Jeremias had denounced, John
the Baptist had cried ' Repent !' — but all in vain. And now
all these were dead- — and those who never would believe that
Christ could rise again, inconsistently announced Him to be a
risen Prophet — one of the old prophets returned from the dead.
This was no pledge of salvation. This was no point d^appui
from which the Saviour could move the world to repentance
and newness of life.

'On this Rock zuill I Build My CJntrcJi! 201

And so, having elicited from them the opinion of the world,
Christ proceeded to condemn it, by a further question : ' All
this say men, men who are in the world, and of it ; all this is
from the hardness of their hearts, and their unbelief. They
have the Scriptures, they know what is therein written of Me ;
they might, but for their want of faith, recognise Me therein \
but they cannot. But ye have not so learned Me. Ye have
been with Me, and know Me better ; ye have heard the words
of life from My lips ; surely, ye recognise the promised One.
And whom say ye that I am ?'

The question was addressed to them all — not to one in par-
ticular— probably all would have answered to the same effect,
save Judas. But it was Peter who stepped out from his
brethren and became their mouthpiece : it was Peter, who,
impulsive in good and in evil alike, avowed his belief, and
ratified to the full the trust our Lord reposed in His disciples
— gave Him a plenary confession of faith, and bound all the
disciples in a common bond by the completeness of His decla-
ration. It was Peter who answered and said, ' Thou art the
Christy the Son of the living God.'

That it was an inspiration our Lord Himself declares, for
He said, ' Blessed art thou, Simon Bar-jona : for flesh and blood
hath not revealed it unto thee, but My Father which is in
heaven.' Peter was not better than his brother disciples — in
many respects he was their inferiors ; but his impetuosity here
guided him aright, and to our Lord's appeal he spoke the
thought of his heart, and registered the full, the unadorned,
the naked truth.

And, indeed, there is no passage in Scripture more im-
portant— this spontaneous confession, by a man, of the divinity
of Christ. As Christ, by becoming man, enabled man to
take Him as an example, by the imitation of which he could
overcome sin and the devil — as Christ, by taking our nature
upon Him, elevated that nature, and made it capable of doing
what He did, thus enabling it to rise to the highest pinnacle of
hoHness — so Peter, by the acknowledgment of Christ as the

-o-i Neiv Studies in Christian Theology.

Son of the living God, made Christ's life available for the
saving of all mankind, by enabling all who shared our common
human nature to recognise Christ as he did, and to place
themselves within the pale of His saving grace, and His
Divine influence. And thus Peter became a typical man —
typical, as Adam was of death, as Christ was of life. For
Peter became the type of the power of mankind to escape
from the death of the first man, and to avail himself of the life
of the second man ; and his confession sealed and settled,
once and for all, the successful issue of Christ's mission, the
everlasting and blessed results of the Incarnation,

Then did our Lord make that great and crowning statement
— then did He give that gracious and invaluable assurance,
' And I say also unto thee, that thou art Peter, and upon this
rock will I build My Church, and the gates of hell shall not
prevail against it.' Simon, the hearer, he in whom was faith,
grounded in the affection of truth in the will, he it was who
had made the confession ; but now he was henceforth Peter,
who had established a rock of truth, upon which the Church
could stand and defy every infernal influence. This was the
Rock on which the Church was built; not on Peter, the erring
and yet far from perfect disciple. The powers of hell tried
hard to overthrow Peter, but he, as one of the Church, stood
fast upon this Rock and defied them. The Rock was the
Truth, for so does a rock always signify in Scripture ; the
Rock was the great paramount Truth, enunciated by the
disciple ; Christ Himself is the Foundation of the Church,
' for other Foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which
is Jesus Christ' (i Cor. iii. ii).

And we are all profiters by this stable edifice, which is thus
founded upon the Rock of Christ's Truth — ' built upon the
foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ Himself
being the chief corner-stone ; in whom all the building fitly
framed together groweth into a holy temple in the Lord : in
whom ye also are builded together for an habitation of God
through the Spirit ' (Eph. ii. 20-22).

LECTURE XXIII.

* EXCEPT A CORN OF WHEAT FALL INTO THE GROUND AND DIE.'

' Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except a corn of wheat fall into the
ground and die, it abideth alone ; but if it die, it bringeth forth much
fruit. He that loveth his life shall lose it ; and he that hateth his life in
this world shall keep it unto life eternal.' — John xii. 24, 25.

The illustration given by our Lord in this passage, is one of the
many gems of His teaching; and although, like all other gems,
it has a native beauty and brilliancy of its own, it is at the same
time enhanced by the setting. The words of our Lord, perhaps
as often as any words, may be taken in an isolated manner, and
will be found to be instinct with beauty and instruction ; yet
there are few passages in any writings which, if taken quite
alone, may not be more or less wrested from their original mean-
ing by those who have an object in so doing. But these words,
although they have an obvious reference to the catastrophe
which was to be the result of His present undertaking, are also
applicable to important matters of personal interest to us all ;
and, as often happens, a great landmark in the history of the
earthly career of the Divine-Human Saviour, corresponds to
a grand event, which, at one time or other, marks the current
of the existence of every man whom He came to save.

In this chapter of St. John's Gospel we have an account of
several circumstances which pointed to the approaching con-
summation of Christ's work upon earth. In the first place, it
was near the Passover, and the loving Mary had performed
that act of consecration, which our Lord Himself declared she
had kept against the day of His burying, and that it should be

204 Nezv Studies in Christian Theology.

had in remembrance wheresoever the Gospel was preached.
Immediately succeeding this, came the triumphant entry into
Jerusalem as a king sitting upon an ass's colt. ' And now '
(saith He) ' the hour is come that the Son of IMan should be
glorified ;' and He illustrates His approaching glorification by
the passage which heads this Lecture.

It is not intended, however, to dwell upon this primary
aspect of the subject. The glorification of the Lord is a
matter which, in any case, it is hard for us to understand ; it is
a subject which we can never fully comprehend, in virtue of
our finite faculties, and one which concerns us chiefly in its
results as bearing upon our own salvation. The glorification
of the Lord we can but dimly trace by the light of the more
luminous views of truth afforded by the Holy Spirit in these
last times, by virtue of which we know sufficient to understand,
somewhat, the bearing of that glorification upon our own lot ;
that it was not a self-glorification in the meaning of the term
such as we are most apt to apply to it, but a Divine process of
order, the object of which was to consummate and complete a
plan, solely intended for our benefit and salvation. The steps
of our Lord's glorification were self-denying, painful, and
laborious, and the end to be gained had in it nothing of the
nature of self, or of the exaltation of even the selfhood of God :
but it was, as it were, the placing of the Godhead in such a
position and attitude as would best enable it to be of advantage
and service to man, who sorely needed it — to man, who without
it must soon perish : it was the abnegation of self in the highest
possible degree, in the Infinite, who underwent all the painful
steps, without which glorification could not have been accom-
plished, in order that by suffering He might effect good to His
creatures — by pain in Himself, He might lessen ours — by the
death of His bod}\ He might thrust aside death from our souls.

Bearing all this in mind, we may perceive that though it
behoves us not to be ignorant of the nature of the glorification
of Christ, so far as it establishes in our minds just views of its
gracious and unselfish character, the mystery of that glorifica-

* Except a Corn of Wheat Fall,' etc. 205

tion is one which we can scarcely expect to search too closely
into with advantage : it is too high for us, we cannot attain
unto it.

But, in a secondary sense, allusion is evidently made by our
Lord to His resurrection, as to one of the most important
steps in the process of that glorification to which I have re-
ferred ; and inasmuch as this is a condition which will be
shared by everyone of us, it will be more useful to consider the
subject from that point of view. For He was like vs, in that
He suffered the death of the body, and we shall be like Him,
inasmuch as we shall rise from that death to. a new and higher
immortal state — a glorification — if we reach the goal for which
we were intended — which will result in a grand development of
our powers, and our adaptation to a mode of life far transcend-
ing anything we can conceive in our present condition ; a
glorification, not, indeed, in the sense in which Christ was
glorified, but in accordance with our finite nature, and with
our limited faculties and powers.

It has been urged that the illustration conveyed is false to
nature, inasmuch as the corn of wheat does not die, but only
undergoes a chemical, or rather a chemico-vital, change. But
it would not be difficult to show that, while the grain itself
becomes corrupt, and in its natural form entirely disappears,
the germinal part, or that which quickens, is something imma-
terial— something invisible to ordinary eyes, and even micro-
scopic to the sage who knows where to look for it ; and the
change which it undergoes is a process of life to which the
grain itself is entirely subservient and subordinate.

The grain of wheat is that which, converted into bread,
affords nourishment and sustenance to our frames : and the
value of wheat depends upon the size of those lobes of the
grain, which, to common eyes — to eyes uneducated, as were
those of the disciples addressed — constitute the whole grain,
or corn. The ordinary agriculturist does not stop to inquire
into the mysteries of the germ, with its plumule and radicle,
but only knows that the wheat he sows does not return to him

2o6 JSJew Studies in Christian Theology.

as he sowed it, but in a new form, marvellously multiplied.
The wheat placed in the ground is wheat expended — lost :
because, practically, the grain dies, though, really and scientific-
ally regarded, the apparently dead grain is reproduced above-
ground many fold — is the progenitor of the full ear, which is
the husbandman's reward. It is but the gross nourishment,
laid up for the germinating plant, which dies — which becomes,
that is, so chemically changed, that its elements are absorbed,
and re-appear in new forms. Thus regarded, the parallelism
between the corn of wheat and the body of man seems closer
than a mere cursory consideration would indicate; and the
resurrection — not of the body, but of the soul — is thus seen to
be in beautiful correspondence with the natural processes of
decay and reproduction in the vegetable world, ' Except a
corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone ;
but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit.'

If it could be supposed that our bodies had any share in the
resurrection, the analogies of the corn of wheat would not hold
good. But, like it, we fall into the ground and die, as to our
natural bodies ; no part of that grain survives the changes of
decay ; and, from a mere external point of view, the grain
utterly disappears. But it had within it the germ of a higher
life, and that survives ; and not only survives, but is advan-
taged by the decay of the enclosing parts, finding in that
decay its opportunity of ascending and bearing fruit.

How different is this view of death from that which looks
hopelessly forward and sees nothing but extinction. For in
this age there are not a few, who, trusting rather to their own
imperfect powers of argument, entrammelled in a false logic,
and starting from false analogies, involve themselves in conclu-
sions which enchain them to a mere material world, from which
they see no means of escape. For them the only fruit that
they can hope to bear is that crude ,'production which is but
the outcome of their most imperfect probation — the more im-
perfect, since the false views they cherish only the more narrow
the mind, and cramp the intellect ; they are but mildewed

'Except a Corn of Wheat Fall' etc. 207

grains, their ears such as Pharaoh saw in his dream, withered
and blasted with the east wind of iinbehef, false imaginings,
and hard self-intelligence. Such corns of wheat are indeed
alone, destined to bring forth no real fruit, but to abide barren
alike in hope and in results.

Without giving due attention to the parable by which our
Lord thus illustrates the fruits of good living and holy dying,
the succeeding words might seem somewhat inconsequential ;
but, after these remarks, they can no longer appear so. ' For,'
He says, ' he that loveth his life shall lose it ; and he that
hateth his life in this world shall keep it unto life eternal.'
But now we are able to understand that they follow in strict
sequence ; for as the corn of wheat abides alone until it falls
into the ground and dies, so do our lives fail to be perfect until
an analogous consummation is effected. In this world we have
a certain life — a life full of temptations, and often full of
sorrows and disappointments. We look forward from year to
year, hoping and planning, too often as though this was to be
our rest ; while it is but a place of labour in which rest may be
earned ; and our hopes and plans mostly end in failure and
regret. Nothing that we can do here has any permanence, or
any stamp, as it were ; our joys and our sorrows are like
writing made in water — -and however solid and permanent our
undertakings or our purposes may appear to us here, we know
full well that they are as fleeting shadows. Those who were
before us, and of whose deeds we read in history — where are
they now? and where are the effects and the results of their
lives ? It is true that, by the accumulation of infinitesimal in-
fluences, great results are often ultimately attained — but we are
speaking now of the private thoughts, the individual history,
of every man. Such histories are in every case but means to
an end — and the end has followed even when, apparently, the
individual was blotted out. How many a fair promise has
been to all appearance ruthlessly cut down ! how many a care-
fully educated intellect has ceased to be, just as we looked for
fruit : but the fruit would nevertheless follow — the corn of

2o8 Neiv Studies in Christian Theology.

wheat has fallen to the ground, and fruit will be the result,
though not in our sight.

On the other hand, the Uves of some are apparently strewed
with flowers. Sorrows and disappointments seldom approach
to disturb the mind ; worldly pleasures so occupy the soul as to
leave scarce anything to be desired — from a worldly point of
view; riches, plenty, troops of friends, ease, leisure, and perfect
health — all these may so far combine as to cast out thoughts of
the future, and to supersede the aspirations for a higher and
more spiritual state. Then it is that the warning of Christ
becomes necessary : ' He that loveth his life shall lose it.'
Evidently our Lord refers to this life. Life is too valuable a
gift to be scorned, or to be otherwise than loved — but the life
of this world may be too much loved — and is so, whenever it
is not subordinated to the life to come. ' Our days on earth
are a shadow '■ — ^though to us they are apt to seem to be the
only substance. ' Behold,' says the Psalmist, ' Thou hast made
my days as a handbreadth ; verily, every man, at his best, is
altogether vanity. Lord, make me to know mine end, and the
measure of my days, what it is ; that I may know how frail I
am' (Psa. xxxix. 5, 6). And, indeed, the best consideration to
counteract an inordinate love of life is some such thought as
this. For, indeed, the love of life means the love of what is
earthly in our earthly life ; by which love the heavenly is cast
out ; and, like Esau, we sell our birthright for a mess of pottage
— for a consideration not for an instant worthy to be balanced
against the tremendous stakes of life everlasting. By setting
too much store by our life in this world, we are exhibiting a
marked preference for the corn of wheat abiding alone — and
disregarding the much fruit which the same corn should bear
in its true and lawful order and condition.

And ' he that hateth his life in this world shall keep it unto
life eternal,' but not as the same life. The life which a man is
called upon to hate, is the life which he has inherited from his
fallen progenitors — it is the old Adam, with all its affections
and lusts : it is this life which must be forsaken, and ex-

'Except a Corn of Wlicat Fall' etc. 209

changed by the new birth for the real life of the soul, which
alone can endure for ever. And thus our Lord illustrates His
own glorification in a manner which we can most readily
understand, namely, by the process of our own regeneration.
For in that process we must first have a death of the old.,
before we can have a birth of the new. To be born again, we
must die to sin, and be renewed in righteousness. We must
learn to hold in abhorrence all that we may recognise as
warring against the Spirit, and above all the love of self. But
as we are constituted, the love of self is that ruling passion
which embraces the life of this world ; and if we hold to it, we
shall be grasping the shadow and losing the substance : so that
we are even called upon to hate it, in order that, by its renun-
ciation, we may be enabled to substitute for it that holier love,
that higher life (not inborn in us), which teaches us to mortify
the flesh with its affections and lusts, and to set our affections
on things above.

For a man is such as is his ruling love ; if it is of earth, then
it must sink downwards, dragging him with it, for he cannot be
dissociated from it. He is what his love is, it is his very being,
and that being, by nature, is the love of self and the world — a
love which cannot exist above — a love which, if a man cling to
it, he shall lose it. But although it is his love, and therefore
his nature, he must so learn to change his heart, as that he shall
even hate it : and to do this, he needs more than his own strength ;
indeed he is incapable of so changing his nature by his own aid
alone — it can be done only by the agency of the Holy Spirit
working in him. This is the condition of life eternal — that a
man shall hate the life, or love, into which he was born, and
shall seek to change his earthly inherited life for a heavenly,
God-given life. Truly might Christ say, ' If any man will be
My disciple, let him deny himself, and take up his cross and
follow Me;' and again, 'He that taketh not his cross, and
followeth after Me, is not worthy of Me.'

The expression of this (ver. 25) second verse is one of those
few passages which are repeated in the records of each

14

210 Neiv Studies in Christian TJicology.

of the four Evangelists in nearly the same words. It was
probably an illustration often used by our Lord, who would
seek, by iteration, to impress upon His hearers the necessity of
a new birth, the vanity and nothingness of the life of this
world, and the all-importance of a heavenly life. The Jews
required much exhortation upon these points, inasmuch as
they were eminently natural in their views of things, and would
require many assaults upon the stronghold of their selfish
prejudices before they could be driven from them to seek
shelter in non-natural modes of thought and unwonted
restraints of life. An earthly kingdom was their ideal, over
which their Messiah was to reign, to confound their Roman
oppressors, and to restore the glories of Mount Zion. But our
Lord never wearied of pointing out to them the vanity of these
desires, and that there was something far more important than
those seeming desirable ends.

And which of us are not prone to share the Jewish unbelief
and hardness of heart ? which of us are not, upon occasion,
willing to risk heaven, and to stake our salvation upon some
earthly toy, some bauble not more worthy than theirs ? For to
us, no less than to them, is the warning given, and we, no less
than they of old, may apply to ourselves the challenge — * For
what shall it profit a man if he shall gain the whole world, and
lose his own soul ? or what shall a man give in exchange for
his soul ?' (Mark viii. 36, 37).

LECTURE XXIV.

' IN MY father's house ARE MANY MANSIONS.'

' In my Father's house are many mansions ; if not, I would have told
you : I go to prepare a place for you.' — ^JOHN xiv. 2.

It is often remarked that the sacred Scriptures contain but
few and scattered references to the nature or constitution of
heaven ; and it has been adduced by those who disbelieve in
its existence, as a confirmation of their negative views, that so
little is found in the Bible explanatory of the locality, the
character, or the employment of heaven. And it is un-
doubtedly true, that those who desire curiously to know any
particulars of that future state or condition to which they hope
to attain, will not readily find their curiosity gratified by a
perusal of the sacred record ; which, while it everywhere
recognises a heavenly existence, does not express itself with
any detail, or with any minuteness describe what it implies by
the expression. The way to heaven is everywhere pointed
out, the desirableness of attaining heavenly life is everywhere
insisted on ; but the manner of life, the nature of the duties and
pleasures of its inhabitants, are not specifically described.
Why this should be so, we are not prepared to explain.

Some have argued against the probability of a future state,
because the word 'immortality' is so seldom used in the Bible,
and never in the Old Testament ; but however that may be,
there can be no doubt respecting heaven, for there are few
words more frequently employed, both in the Old and in the
New Testament, than heaven and heavens ; to which may be
added the not unfrequent periphrases, as instanced in the

14—2

212 Nezu Studies in Christian TJicology.

passage above quoted ; and although the expression is used
evidently in more senses than one, there can be no doubt, from
an examination and comparison of the passages, that a vast
number of them are applied, in botli Testaments, to an abode
intended and prepared for the righteous, after the death of the
body — the dwelling-place of the Almighty, to which He will
ultimately take His faithful people, to be with Him for ever
and ever. Thus, by the Old Testament account, it was into
heaven that ' Elijah went up by a whirlwind ' (2 Kings ii. 11),
and in the New Testament we read that our Lord Himself
' was received up into heaven, and sat on the right hand of
God' (Markxvi. 19).

However little, then, we may explicitly gather from the
Scriptures regarding the nature of Heaven, however veiled may
be the expressions used regarding it, we can nevertheless by no
means afford to eliminate the word from our sacred writings,
without, indeed, totally destroying their coherence, and
omitting one of their most prominent and characteristic
features ; and no one can possibly take the Bible as the guide
of his life, without a firm faith in the existence of some place,
state, or condition of blessing and happiness hereafter, which
answers to the term in question.

And whatever may have been the reasons which, in infinite
wisdom, caused this reticence as to the mode and manner of
life hereafter, that reticence was evidently not intended to
be kept inviolate through all generations ; and, in process of
time, it has pleased God to reveal much of wondrous interest
upon this above all most interesting topic. And it is by com-
paring such knowledge with the veiled expressions of Scripture
it assumes a new and enlarged meaning, and throws a reflective
corroboration upon the doctrine of heaven, which already ap-
pealed to our judgment and reason, as being borne out by all
that has been revealed to us of the character of the Divine
order.

"W^^ plurality of the heavens is one of those facts thus corro-
borated ; for not only do we read in Scripture of the heaven

*In My Father s Ho2isc are many JMansions! 213

of heavens, or inmost heaven, the dwelling-place of the Most
High, which yet is unable to contain its King and Lord ; not
only do we read (in 2 Cor. xii. 2) of a man in Christ, who was
caught up to the third heaven, where he heard unspeakable
things ; but also, in the prayer taught to the disciples by our
Lord Himself, the plurality of the heavens is distinctly im-
plied, when He bids them say, ' Our Father, which art in the
heavens ' — for this is the correct translation, though not that of
the Authorized Version, which too often reflects the prejudices
and beliefs of the translators. And this ray of light illumines
many avenues of the mysterious future, and is the primary
division which conducts to hitherto unknown ramifications and
subdivisions ; the scope of which is briefly indicated by the
words of our Saviour in the opening passage.

The majority of Christians, unable to fathom the hidden
meanings of the expressions and figures of Scripture, are
agreed that such knowledge is too high for them, and imagine
that they cannot attain unto it. Tbey are content to believe
that it was never intended that they should pry into the secrets
of man's future state ; and, thinking that such things are care-
fully concealed from them by Divine Wisdom, they are unwiUing
to attempt to break the seal of secrecy ; while, at the same
time, they are hopeless of any success, should they be hardy
enough to make the endeavour.

The consequence of this feeling and belief is, that the ideas
entertained by most Christians upon this important subject are
vague in the extreme. Unable to initiate in their own minds
any ideas of a reasonable nature as to a future state — eminently
failing in the spontaneous imagination of conditions dependent
upon an existence in which the corporeal body takes no part
— they fall into errors of the grossest character, and form con-
ceptions which have no other foundation than the baseless
phantasies of their own dreams. And this arises from the fact
that all men are naturally unable to conceive of spirit, as such,
finding it quite impossible to divest their minds of corporeal
accompaniments and bodily associations. And this is specially

214 Nizu Studies in Christian Theology.

the case with the class of persons of whom we are speaking ;
and they are therefore driven to the hopeless task of arguing
from the natural to the spiritual — of building their theories of
soul out of their experiences of body. Hence the dreamy
notions of the individuality of spirit — the false ideas of a
sudden and inconceivable change of nature — the groundless
belief in an instantaneous enlargement of the faculties — and
the natural, though unfounded, hope that all, except perhaps
the notoriously wicked, pass immediately into heaven, when
they leave this sphere.

But there is a fitness in things — and while the thoughtful
reasoner cannot fail to perceive that throughout all nature
there runs a regular arrangement, subject to no fitful or capri-
cious disturbance — a Divine order, exquisitely balanced, and
upholding the perfect beauty and harmonious working of the
universe, — there also comes into view another great and general
principle, no less wonderful, no less inviolable, and no less
important. This is the principle of contimiity. ' Natura ?ii/iil
Jit per saltiuii ' is an ancient adage. Nature does nothing by a
leap, but always goes smoothly on its way — nowhere leaving
gaps to be bridged over by art, but always steadily and con-
scientiously, as it were, performing its work ; without any
slovenly shifts or imperfect links, such as may be perceived in
the works of art. This is no less true of the spiritual than it
is of the natural, and is of the utmost importance. For, by its
application, we learn that the condition of man, after death, is
not one of sudden exaltation — not an instantaneous burst into
fulness of bloom or ripeness of faculties ; but, on the other
hand, that the same gradual process of development goes on,
uninfluenced by the change effected by death — except in so far
as that the spirit, now unclogged by the bonds of earth, has
larger powers, and less limited faculties, so that it is able to
make more rapid bounds than it could while yet in the flesh.
But the man is the sam.e — he is neither canonized nor sanctified
by the mere article of death ; he is not instantly invested with
all knowledge, because he has cast ofi" the material body — nor

* In My Father'' s House are many mansions' 215

is he at once placed in a position of immeasurable superiority
because he is no longer a dweller on earth, but a denizen of
another, and a hitherto unknown, world.

No ; a man no more changes his soul, than he does his body,
by any sudden bound. When the man, crippled from his birth,
was restored to strength by the power of God, it was a great
miracle, which excited the astonishment and wonder of all who
witnessed it; and so, also, could a deformed and blackened
soul suddenly become an upright angel of light, it would be a
miracle, only more wonderful ; and a miracle which only could
place in stronger and more direful relief the vast multitudes of
those upon whom the miracle was not worked.

The law of continuity, then, is the law of Divine order.
Man prepares himself under the influence of the Holy Spirit,
here — and hereafter, under the same, but perhaps, more direct
influence, continues to be prepared for his ultimate destiny.

We have seen already that there is a distinct recognition, in
the Lord's Prayer, of a plurality of heavens — and in number-
less passages, especially in the Psalms, the expression 'heavens,'
rather than ' heaven,' is that used. ' He that sitteth in the
heavens shall laugh them to scorn ' (Psa. ii. 4) ; ' O Thou that
dwellest in the heavens ' (cxxiii. i) ; 'Praise ye the Lord from
the heavens; praise Him all ye His angels ' (cxlviii. i, 2) —
are examples of our meaning. And this expression is but the
first process of that subdivision indicated further by our Lord
in the text. For as there are heavens, so also may we conclude
that those heavens are not altogether dissimilar in character to
their earthly antitypes ; and that, as men here are characterized
by a certain manner or principle of arrangement — so also men
hereafter will fall into an orderly classification — a systematized
constitution — upon a perfect basis, both as to equality and
justice ; being, in fact, the outcome and reflex of the Divine
order itself. For, on the one hand, we have reason to infer
that earth is but a shadow, as it were, of heaven — and therefore
that the moral aspects of society here are not altogether unlike
those of society in heaven; while, on the other, we may be

2i6 Nezv Studies in CJii'istian Theology.

assured that here they are infinitely less perfect, inasmuch as
here, men are guided chiefly by the outward character, whereas
in heaven, the heart and soul themselves will be patent to all —
and the real, interior, man himself^ will be the basis of a classi-
fication, as by Him who * will fan them with a fan ' (Jer, xv. 7) ;
' Whose fan is in His hand, and He will thoroughly purge His
floor, and gather the wheat into His garner' (Matt. iii. 12).

But ' many men, many minds ;' and, even in the imperfect
society of earth, men of good proclivities cannot always asso-
ciate freely and happily together. And degrees of goodness
are innumerable, from the perfected saint, whose likeness to
Christ has become so complete that he is fitted to dwell, as it
were, in the closest companionship with Him — to the weak
brother, whose manifold temptations have left him in danger
of being sifted as wheat by the wiles of Satan. Moreover,
men have not only not all equal powers of resisting evil, but
they also have not all the same capacities for happiness ; and
the preparation made in this life must result in a spiritual con-
stitution which does not fit all men equally for heaven — or the
same heaven, or the same grade in the same heaven. Let us
not be understood to imply that anything of evil can be found
there, for all evil must be purged before heaven can be reached ;
and although it is said by Job, * The heavens are not clean in
His sight' (Job xv. 15), the expression can only be taken to
suggest the positive holiness of the Lord, in comparison with
which everything else must be unclean — even as the whitest
linen appears dim beside the driven snow.

It follows, therefore, that there must be a classification of
men in heaven, of a far more perfect kind than can ever be ex-
pected to be found upon earth. The soul is a more subtle
thing than the body, and its relation to its surroundings must
be much more close and complete than our relation here to the
objects of sense and touch. For we must ever bear in mind
that heaven is not a place — a locality, a tangible spot of the
universe, beyond the stars — but a state — a condition — a moral,
ethical, and psychic relation to an internal and interpenetrating

* In My Fathers House are many Maiisions'. 2 1 J

atmosphere of goodness and truth. If it could be imagined,
for the sake of illustration, that souls were lighter and more
ethereal according to their spirituality, and to their freedom
from earthly dross, we could also picture them to our minds as
rising to higher atmospheres of celestial happiness in proportion
to their holiness and sanctity — or, on the other hand, gravitating
to lower grades of heavenly blessedness according to less deU-
cate forms of spiritual fibre which they have acquired by their
life on earth. And, following out the same illustration, those
would come together who had most in common, whose char-
acters most assimilated — and who, therefore, would find most
pleasure and happiness in each other's society. For it is the
inmost quality of the soul that affords the most binding, and
the most lasting bond of true companionship — and in heaven
alone can this inmost quality be truly tested, and fully realized.
And therefore we may safely judge that, hereafter, men will find
their most perfect delight in the society of those with whom
they have the most perfect spiritual sympathy — the most com-
plete oneness of intelligence, of desire, of aspiration, and of
feeling.

But among the millions of glorified souls, and of spirits of
the just made perfect, there must also be almost infinite varieties
of mental constitution, infinite degrees of spiritual perfection,
infinite gradations of the power of, and capacity for, heavenly
life. And thus must the societies of which the heavens are
composed, exist and consist in proportion to all these degrees,
gradations, and vanities. ' In My Father's house are many
mansions,' not all equally lordly, not all equally adorned.
There is the palace of him who was found worthy to rule over
ten cities, and that of him whose capacity entitled him to but
five cities ; and we may be justified in the belief that while
some will sit on thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel,
others will be the happy though humble citizens, whose sole
aim is to impart to those around, the happiness which he
himself enjoys to the utmost of his capacity. Each mansion
is the abode of harmony and peace, and no discordant element

2i8 Neii' Studies in Christian Theology.

can, by the nature of things, enter there ; for it is only by
affiniiy that such societies can exist — it is only by mutual love,
and faith, and trust, and belief, that such societies can cohere,
or that such mansions can be otherwise than divided against
themselves.

The happiness, therefore, of heaven depends upon mutual
benefit, mutual help, mutual service, mutual love. It is the
perfection of the practice of that law of love to the neighbour,
so often enjoined by our Lord as the sum of the Law and the
Prophets. No envying — no bitterness — no thought of personal
aggrandizement, can by any possibility exist to mar the per-
fection of that harmonious working, of which every heavenly
society is a model. And it follows, therefore, that we can
never hope to enjoy the pleasures and delights of the heavenly
mansion, until, either here or hereafter, our minds are entirely
divested of all those baser passions to which we are all more or
less subject. No one is entirely free from them here — but we
have reason to hope that the endeavour to resist, and to escape
from them in this life, will be furthered by the Divine mercy —
and will aid in our ultimate escape from them hereafter.

But the mansion we shall occupy depends upon ourselves j
our capacities for heavenly enjoyment depend upon our power
to receive life from Christ, who came, not only that we might
have life, but that we might have it mo7-e aMindantly : and our
reception of this life from Him is in our own power, so far as
we endeavour to refuse the evil and to choose the good. May
we all so live that we may have reason to ' know that if our
earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a
building of God, an house not made with hands, eternal in the
heavens' (2 Cor. v. i).

LECTURE XXV.

A MAN CAN RECEIVE NOTHING EXCEPT FROM HEAVEN.

'A man can receive nothing, except it be given him from heaven.' —
John iii. 27.

When we look something more than cursorily at the consti-
tution of the mind of man — when, indeed, we look into our
own minds and endeavour to analyze the network of faculties,
emotions, and feehngs, of which it seems to be made up, we
shall naturally be led to the great question of cause. Whence
are these faculties and emotions ? From what are they derived ?
To what are they tendmg ? It was but a few short years back
when we are conscious that they did not exist, — or. if they
did exist, it was in so rudimental a form, that we are at a loss
to recognise, in those simple elements, the powers we now
possess — of combination — of will — of induction — of thought.

The gradual evolution of the faculties, from the unconscious-
ness of infancy, to the full development of adult intelligence,
is a matter so wanting in novelty — so common — so ordinary —
of so everyday occurrence — so natural^ as some would say,
that we seldom stop to inquire into it — seldom feel arrested
by any special wonder : or, if by some out-of-the-way incident
our interest is momentarily excited, it is soon dulled again by
the matter-of-fact conclusion that these things are but the in-
explicable phenomena of mental and physical laws, which it is
the business of the nietaphysician, or, perhaps, of the physio-
logist merely, to inquire into, and co-ordinate.

Again, our souls inhabit bodies which are a marvel to us

220 Neiu Studies in Christian Theology.

not only from the intricacy of their construction, but also from
the consciousness they afford us of an isolated individuality.
Everyone has his own little world of soul and body, into which
he can retire from the rest of the world, but from which he
can himself never escape, howsoever he may wish to do so.
They together constitute his selfhood, his ego — they are ever
present with him — they are his own. And yet it cannot fail
to strike us that, whether body, or mind, or soul, we ourselves
had no part in their production, no part in their development,
no part in their origin. Our parents are commonly called the
authors of our being, and yet a slight consideration is sufficient
to convince us that this can only be said of them in a very
partial and imperfect manner — for they themselves are as
ignorant as we are of the whence and the wherefore ; and the
existence of their children is to them as great a problem as is
their own.

In this world we are surrounded wdth wonders — the natural
world is an eternal and ever-present miracle ; and although we
are ever studying it, and endeavouring to probe its secrets, we
only succeed in upturning the extreme borders of the veil. We
only gather, like children on the seashore, a few shells, or a
few pebbles, from the sands which margin the great ocean of
truth ; and when we have done our utmost, we are as full of
wonder, as full of marv^el and of unsated curiosity, as we were
at first ; and cannot but end by discerning that while our
faculties are but finite, our speculations reach far away to the
infinite and the unknowable. But there are men in this, as
there have been in past, ages, who have ill brooked this limit
to their speculations and researches. In the pride of human
intellect, they have predetermined that all things shall have a
cause in the regions of the natural; and they indulge in the
expectation that all things, themselves included, will be found
to have an origin in a fortuitous combination — a chance medley
of pre-existing, and indeed self-existing and eternal elements.

For this idea is flattering to their self-love in two ways: it gives
them the feeling that they have probed to the bottom of the

A Mail can receive nothing except froin Heaven. 221

great problems which inevitably occupy the thinking mind, and
it gives them an ownership in themselves, as it were, which is
not subject to any previous claim — since such a claim evidently
could not be put in by elemental atoms, which are themselves
driven hither and thither by a blind and never-ending vortex.
And the constitution of some minds is, to discover in Nature
an all-powerful Mother, and an all-sufficient Cause ; the
tendency of some intellects is to be satisfied with the clumsy
device of a development without a developer, an evolution
without an evolver, a creation without a creator. We cannot
create an organism of the lowest kind; but Matter can evolve
organic life. We cannot produce the simplest vegetable form ;
but Matter, aided by force, can evolve an oak. We cannot com-
prehend the inmost nature of a germ ; but Matter can develop
the crowning form of man, and can endow him with faculties
and aspirations, which are, no less than his body, established
upon a basis of a purely physical kind !

To those who have higher views, it would almost seem im-
possible that anyone should seriously hold such fancies, which
are alike dishonouring to the Creator of all things, and a dis-
inheritance of our race. For they imply a denial of a God,
and a non-recognition of Spirit, and they substitute for these
things a mere material, earthly, blind, and unconscious nothing,
which they dignify wuth the names of Matter and Force.
All the beautiful laws of adaptation and fitness are lost
in a mist of error and folly ; all the comforting delights of a
providential supervision are sacrificed to a miserable delusion,
incapable of proof, as it is incapable of producing a single one
of the results so boldly claimed for it — a delusion which rests
only on the authority of a so-called scientific faith in a pseudo-
philosophic hypothesis. For what is gained by such an
abortive and thankless faith ? Only this, that man's intellect
is apotheosized ; for he pretends that he has thus sounded the
unfathomable depths of wisdom, and claims that there is nothing
too deep, nothing too profound, nothing too incomprehensible
for the piercing glance of an inductive and unaided reason.

222 Neiv Studies in Christian Theology.

But there is in some of us a higher instinct than this — and bv
instinct I mean, not the unreasoning intelligence of animals
which goes by that name — but a rooted conviction, implanted
in our minds, and which we recognise as having been set
there for a special purpose.

Those whose views of the cause of things soar above the
grovelling level of mere materialism, are able to conceive and to
appreciate indications of a much more noble — a much more
satisfactory origin and purpose. They have at once a trust and
a claim upon some Superior Being, whom they recognise as their
Father and Guide. They feel the hand of an intelligence and a
wisdom superior to theirs, which not only made them what they
are, but had an object in so doing. They feel that all about
them bears the impress, not only of wisdom and truth, but also
of goodness and love ; and they are therefore convinced that the
object for which they were created was not a light one, not the
temporary plaything of a variable and capricious heathen god,
but the grand and solemn and eternal mould of the Father of
Lights, with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning.
The heathen represented their Olympian divinities as alternately
laughing at the mistakes and follies of man, and weaned out
with vexation at their own want of control over their crimes
and their sufferings. The Christian believes that he is formed
in the image and likeness of God, the object of His perpetual
love and care ; and held as a precious thing for ever in the
hollow of His hand.

But no one who recognises the necessity of a God, or the
possibility of a heaven, can fail to entertain a belief in their
near dependency upon that God, or of their close communion
with that heaven. The greatest philosophers have ever been
the humblest of men ; and it is pride which denies a divine
parentage and a kinship with heaven. It is the pride which
desires to have no master; it is the pride of a bastard inde-
pendence ; it is the pride which says, ' I am my own — I owe
no man, nor no God anything.' It is the pride which arrogates
to itself all the credit, not only of body, but of soul — not

A Alan can receive nothing except from Heaven. 223

only of the graces of person, but of the forces of intellect ;
which says, Of my own powers I achieved this or that — of my
own skill and foresight I have kept my body in health — of my
own transcendent genius I have overtopped my fellows, and
have become as a god unto them. It is the pride of Lucifer.

For if we admit that there is something which we cannot see
with the bodily eyes, something intangible, but which, like the
invisible air we breathe, is yet as essential to our moral life,
then we cannot fail to perceive that that something must bear
the same relation to man and his destinies, as man does to this
material world upon which he works, and upon which he founds
the trophies of his intelligence. The highest triumphs of his
genius are but imitations of what exists around him, enhanced
and spiritualized by his inner consciousness of an imagined
ideal ; the greatest marvels of his intelligence are built upon
successful discoveries of the modes of working of some power
in the outworks of nature ; and the highest and most tran-
scendent intellect recognises that there is yet the unknowable,
which must ever baffle its mightiest efforts, a veil which no
human power can effect to lift — the unfathomable, the in-
finite and the eternal, before which he must bow for ever
prostrate in the dust.

And yet, if he accepts his position, and recognises his
destiny, while he loses the pride which binds him to earth with
an iron chain, he gains wings by which he may soar to heaven,
and a patent of sonship which makes him a child of God.
For the knowledge of Truth will make him free, and a know-
ledge of the Father will cause his recognition as His child. For
he will learn that God hath said, ' I have created him for My
glory, I have formed him ; yea, I have made him ' (Isa. xliii. 7).
Not only that God made man in His own image and after
His own likeness, but also, in the words of the Prophet
Zechariah (xii. i), that ' He stretcheth forth the heavens, and
layeth the foundations of the earth, and formeth the spirit of
ma?i within Hinu And thus here, and in numberless other
places in the "Word of God, He announces to us, in words

224 N'eiu Studies in Christian Theology.

which cannot be gainsaid, that He made not only the earth
and the heavens, but also man ; and not only the wonderful
and intricate tabernacle of the soul, but also the Spirit itself—
that soul, endowed with power to reflect and to reciprocate
the Divine attributes, the love of wisdom, of which the human
soul is a capacious, though finite, receptacle.

And every reasoning man must concur in this Divine claim,
and bow in allegiance to this Divine ownership ; and the
poetical truth of the Greek philosopher was echoed from
Areopagus by the Christian Apostle, when he said to the
Athenians, ' For we also are His offspring ' (Acts xvii. 28).

But it is a little thing that we should acknowledge ourselves
to be creatures of God — created, that is to say, by Him. All
who do not scoff at the Bible, or deny their God, admit that
much. But there do too many stop. They admit that, as
part and parcel of the sentient universe, God is their universal
Father ; but all that flows from this proposition they syste-
matically deny, if not in words, at least in their actions and in
their lives. For does it not follow that if we are the children of
God, we owe to Him not only an allegiance, such as is due
from a subject to a sovereign, but also an obedience of the
most reverential kind, such as a child owes to its parent, only
of a far higher and more binding character, in proportion as
the gifts we receive from Him are of an infinitely more lofty and
abiding nature than anything we can receive from an earthly
parent ? For who is the real Author of our being ? Is it not
God ? ' seeing that He giveth to all, life, and breath, and all
things.'

But it is not only that we derive our material bodies, the
clothing of the Spirit, from a heavenly source, but every attribute
of our mind is alike drawn from the same fount of goodness
and wisdom. We cannot boast ourselves of our excellence as
though it were of ourselves. Beauty of person is a great gift,
but it need not make its possessor vain, but rather thankful
that the hand which arrayed the lilies of the field with a glory
surpassing that of Solomon, should also have adorned the face

A Man can receive nothing except from Heaven. 225

and form with a loveliness which attracts the beholder. So
also the graces of the soul — mental power, wit, genius — all these
are gifts from God, and to be so esteemed and valued, with
the remembrance ever before us of the sayin^ of the Baptist
concerning our Lord that * A man can receive nothing, except
it be given him from Heaven.'

This is indeed the secret of the humility so much prized by
all who are spiritually minded ; for are we not all alike the
recipients of Divine gifts ? If one be more richly endowed than
another, that is no reason why he should be puffed up with
pride ; the excellence of his gifts is not a credit to himself ;
he did not, by any merit of his own, attain to a superiority
which overtops his fellows ; and to be unduly puffed up by
such excellencies is to abuse them by putting them to an un-
worthy purpose. To possess them is no merit ; to use them
rightly is a duty, which, properly performed, brings, indeed, no
vanity nor pride, but carries with it the consciousness of having
fulfilled the object for which we were so endowed. For who '
(asks the Apostle) ' maketh thee to differ from another ? And
what hast thou, that thou didst not receive? Now, if thou
didst receive it, why dost thou glory as if thou hadst not
received it?' (i Cor. iv. 7). Be not therefore puffed up one
against the other.

And this should not only render us proof against a foolish
vanity or an unworthy pride in the possession of gifts which
we are bound to receive with meekness and to use with dis-
cretion, but it should also teach us tenderness and brotherly
love to others less richly dowered than ourselves. Our deserts
are not greater than those of others, and yet God, in His
mysterious providence, has seen fit to give one riches, while
another has the heritage of poverty ; to grant to one the
blessing of health, while another pines on a languishing bed of
sickness ; to endow one with a spark of transcendent genius,
while another has not the common understanding of his race ;
to mould one in a form of grace and beauty, while another
groans under a natural or diseased-bred repulsiveness of aspect ;

15

226 Neiv Studies in Christian Theology.

to make one happy in the enjoyment of activity and freedom
of movement, while another is crippled and maimed it may be
from birth ; to enrich one with children and friends, and to
condemn another to walk through life solitary and unloved.
All these varieties we meet with in our everyday intercourse
with the world ; and a little reflection must convince us that
the poor, the sick, the unfortunate, the sorrowful, the halt, the
blind, and the solitary, are no less the children of God than
the prosperous, the happy, and the rich. And if these latter
use their gifts so as not to abuse them, they will not forget that
to no better use can they be put, than to comfort their less
fortunate brethren — to minister to the needs of the sick and the
sorrowful — to have compassion upon the poor and the needy —
to offer brotherly aid to all who are in distress and tribulation —
to bind up the broken-hearted — to be eyes to the blind, feet to
the lame, and brethren and sisters to fatherless and the childless.
For may we not perceive that one object of these apparent
defects, of these apparent sources of misery and unhappiness,
is, to afford scope for the exercise of the gifts of Heaven ; to
allow those who have to minister to those who have not ; to
admonish the possessors of talents that they are not their own,
but lent by Heaven ; not to be buried in a napkin, but to be
returned to Him who gave them, with usury ; to remind them
that ' a man can receive nothing except it be given him from
Heaven'; and that the gifts of Heaven are intended for use, to
blossom and to bear fruit, to aid alike the giver and the
receiver by the blessing and sweet incense of an unselfish and
a loving charity ? Without objects upon which a man can
exercise his superior gifts, they would lie fallow and waste —
they could not be utilized — they would miss the purpose for
which they were given; and by the practice of the virtues
for which scope is thus afforded, we are preparing ourselves for
the perfection of Heaven, for the fruition which can only come
of preparation ; and thus the gifts of Heaven become our
blessing, and the acknowledgment that we derive them from
thence will greatly aid to conduct us thither.

A Man can receive nothing except from Heaven. 227

And that which is true of our exceptional qualities, of these
things which we esteem as gifts, is no less true of our com-
monest attributes, without which we should not be living
beings at all. Every good gift and every perfect gift is from
above, and no less so is the gift of life itself, which is the founda-
tion of our being, the spring of our existence, the basis of all
that distinguishes us from the clods around us. * In Him we
live and move and have our being '—for He is life, and from
Him only can we derive life. ^Vere it not that there is a con-
tinual flow of life from Him who is the Fountain and Source of
Life, just as there is a continual flow of light and warmth from
the terrestrial sun, we should perish at once. A man can
receive nothings not even existence, unless it be given him from
Heaven. For God is not only Creator, but Sustainer, and only
He who is the Author of Life can suffice to keep it in existence ,
only He who is the Creator of the world can animate, sustain,
evolve, or develope its powers, its forces, and its faculties; and
whatever term we use for the phenomena we observe in our-
selves and in the world around us, we must always bear in
mind that it is futile to attempt to dethrone God, but that it is
the truest wisdom to acknowledge Him in all things, to bow
humbly before Him, and above all to remember that ' Ye are
not your own, for ye are bought with a price : therefore glorify
God in your body and in your spirit, which are God's ' (i Cor,
vi. 19, 20).

^5-

LECTURE XXVI.

THE SHEEP AND THE GOATS.

'When the Son of Man shall come in His glory, and all the holy angels
with Him, then shall He sit upon the throne of His glory ; and before Him
shall be gathered all nations : and He shall separate them one from an-
other, as a shepherd divideth the sheep from the goats; and He shall set
the sheep on His right hand, but the goats on the left.' — Matt. xxv. 31-33.

There is scarcely any people in any age who have not pos-
sessed the belief in a future judgment. Whether the idea has
come down to them as the remnant of a more perfect form of
religious belief, or whether it has been a result of conscience
acting on a reasoning mind, matters not ; the idea of a time
of reckoning for the deeds done in the body is an universal
one. And such a belief is doubtless well ordered, for it cannot
be otherwise than a salutary check upon the natural proclivities
of mankind. For men in this world are always prone to take
their own pleasure, and to follow their own wills in any direc-
tion in which they may lead them, careless of, or indifferent
to, the consequences which may result And if conscience be
eliminated from the human mind — if a sense of responsibility
more or less remote be removed from the heart or the memory
— ihere is no length to which a man may not plunge into evil.
But the remembrance that sooner or later there will be a judg-
ment or reckoning is a curb upon the evil-doer, which will not
let him rest in peace, but, like the sword of Damocles, hangs
over him, and renders him restless and uneasy as long as he
perseveres in a course of sin. Not that the fear of such
judgment is, or can be, the highest, or even a high incentive
to a good life \ but while it is, on the one hand, a useful

The Sheep and the Goats. 229

deterrent from evil in those even, who although desirous of
following good, are yet liable to fall into sin, it is, on the other
hand, a necessary check upon another class of persons, who
require incentives of this kind to drive them out of the broad
way which leads to destruction — who, not content to be led in
the way of good and truth by the cords of love, require to be
forced from the delight of evil-doing by the terrors of God's
law. For the Lord adapts His means of grace to all classes of
persons; and although all goodness should be spontaneous,
and of choice, nevertheless, the beginning of good may some-
times spring from feelings of a lower kind, which cannot be
carried into the progressive advance of the Christian life.

Our Lord was now near the completion of His ministry upon
earth. He had taught many things ; He had given forth
many wonderful sayings to His disciples, and to the people at
large ; and now the end was near. In this chapter of Matthew
we have several parables, all of which have reference to the
end of things, to the consummation of affairs of earth, and
their consequent future result. Of the ten virgins, five had
provided oil for their lamps, and five had neglected to make
this provision. Five had borne in mind that the time was
approaching when it should be said, 'The bridegroom cometh;'
and five had carelessly forgotten the nearness of His approach,
and were altogether unprepared to receive Him. In other
words, five of them were wise, and five were foolish.

Again, our Lord speaks of the delivery of talents to men
who were expected to make use of them during their Lord's
absence. For the time would assuredly come when He would
return, and demand an account of the way in which the talents
had been used. To those who had had such an appreciation
of the trust committed to them as to please their Lord, were
addressed those impressive words, ' Well done, thou good and
faithful servant ; thou hast been f;\ithful over a few things, I
will make thee ruler over many things ; enter thou into the joy
of thy Lord ;' while to him who had slothfuUy hidden his
talent in a napkin came the dread sentence, ' Cast ye the un-

230 Nezv Studies in Christian TJicology.

profitable servant into outer darkness ; there shall be weeping
and gnashing of teeth.' And then comes the crowning parable
of the sheep and the goats — the terminal lesson — the moral
and corollary of all the teaching of three years, in which is
distinctly set forth a doctrine of future rewards and punish-
ments— not upon a gross and material principle, such as is
generally imagined, but upon a truly spiritual and internal
basis, by virtue of which the meek and lowly, the humble and
the obedient, the merciful and the poor in spirit, shall reap a
reward, such as those who are without these qualities arrogantly
imagine they have earned by a selfish and time-serving external
and negative sanctity.

And then we are told, that it came to pass, when Jesus had
finished all these sayings. He announced that the time was at
hand when He should be betrayed to be crucified.

We may, therefore, regard the parable of the sheep and the
goats as the last testament of our Lord, delivered with the
express intention of emphasizing the fact of a future condition,
in which the mode of life followed here would tend to regulate
and fix the state succeeding it ; of giving once at least distinct
recognition to a future state, in which men will no longer, as
here, follow good or evil at their own choice, but enter a
condition already determined for them by their previous spon-
taneous acts. Such a distinct recognition of a future state is
not common even in Scripture ; and although the human mind
has an innate behef in the immortality of the soul, and although
the generality of our race possesses a strong faith in future
judgment, the present parable is, doubtless, the strongest
direct confirmation of such doctrine which we can find any-
where in the sacred writings.

But yet it must be observed that our Lord's words really do
not profess to indicate literally what will hereafter take place,
but they contain a parable, which is couched in the corres-
pondential language of Scripture, and therefore requires
explanatory comment before it can be properly understood.
We have placed before our minds a grand and solemn scene :

TJic Sheep and the Goats. 231

' When the Son of Man shall come in His glory, and all the
holy angels with Him, then shall He sit upon the throne of His
glory.' The Son of Man was about, just at that time, to
undergo every humiliation ; to be buffeted and scourged, and
to be crucified. All that was necessary before His glorification
could take place ; but our Lord looked beyond and through
this, to a time when He should come in all His glory — with all
His holy angels with Him. The same, or rather a similar, ex-
pression is used in the i6th chapter of this Gospel, 27th verse,
' For the Son of Man shall come in the glory of His Father,
with His angels, and then He shall reward every man according
to his works.' Here the expressions, ' in His ' (that is, His
own) 'glory,' and 'in the glory of His Father,' are used synony-
mously, as meaning the same thing ; and the fact that the
latter quotation appears to be qualified by the singular verse,
' Verily I say unto you. There be some standing here which
shall not taste of death till they see the Son of Man coming in
His kingdom,' only shows that the whole verse and all its
different expressions have spiritual meanings, apart from what
appears in the letter.

The Father signifies the Lord as to love. 'As the Father
loveth Me, even so love I the Father.' The Son signifies
Truth, as when He says of Himself, ' I am the Way, the Truth,
and the Life,' To come in the glory of His Father, then,
plainly means His coming in all the glory of Divine Love —
Love which was Himself also, when, after His glorification,
Divine Truth would be once more reunited with Divine Love.
Then, indeed, was God such as we read in the Apocalypse,
' Whose eyes were as a flame of fire, and His feet like unto fine
brass, as if they burned in a furnace : and His voice as the
sound of many waters . . . and His countenance as the sun
shineth in his strength.' Then was He such as we read in the
vision of Daniel (vii. 9) : ' The Ancient of Days, whose gar-
ment was white as snow, and the hair of His head like pure
wool ; His throne was like the fiery flame ; and His wheels as
burning fire. A fiery stream issued and came forth from

-J-^

Netv Studies in Christian Theology.

before Him : thousand thousands ministered unto Him, and
ten thousand times ten thousand stood before Him ; the judg-
ment was set and the books were opened.'

Such is the glory of the Lord — the pomp of the Son of
Man, glorified — a grand picture, which, while it strikes our
imagination, yet falls far short of the reality ; for we are always
to remember that the material terms used are but significative
of the spiritual qualities of which He is the Fountain and
embodiment, as it were. And fire and flame, which are so
largely used in such descriptions, are only indicative of that
Divine Love which emanates from Him, and warms and vivifies
every soul which basks in its beams ! So that, indeed, it
may be said that the substantial reality transcends our finite
and natural comprehension, in the same degree that spiritual
and celestial things transcend those which are natural and
material.

But yet the Son of Man it is who shall be Judge. Although
He come in the glory of His Father — although He come clad
in the attributes of Divine Love also, it is as Divine Truth that
He effects judgment. And the Son of Man is the Lord as to
Divine Truth. This is clearly shown in John v. 22, where
we read, ' For the 7^rt///^r judgeth no man, but hath committed
all judgment unto the Son, that all men should honour the
Son even as they honour the Father.' And again, in the 26th
and 27th verses : ' For as the Father hath life in Himself, so
hath He given to the Son to have life in Himself, and hath
given Him authority to execute judgment also, kraiisc He is
the Son of Man.'

In the glory of His Father, then, the Lord will come, but,
moreover, having 'all the holy angels with Him.' The angels,
however, be it remembered, are the spirits of just men made
perfect. When our Lord was the Son of Man upon earth. He
was accompanied by a few poor fishermen — a small band of
illiterate disciples, who possessed but an imperfect and feeble
faith — but who were yet those upon whom He relied for the
propagation of His heavenly doctrine among mankind. Such

TJic SJiccp and the Goats. 233

as they were, such were probably at one time the holy angels
who were to accompany the Son of Man when He came to
judgment. As the Son of Man, when yet upon earth, suffering
and poor, had about Him poor and weak disciples, so should
the Son of Man, when He comes in His glory, have about Him
holy angels, glorified souls of once weak and suffering men.
But when a king appears in state, surrounded by a glittering
court, it is not the king's glory which is enhanced by the
splendour of those who derive all their glory from liim — ?nd
so our Lord's glory cannot be increased by the presence of His
holy angels. Still less can the company of angels aid our Lord
in His great work of judgment. He is the Son of Man — the
Light of Divine Truth, out of whose mouth goes a two-edged
sword. He, and He alone, knows what is in man — He, and
He alone, can discern the multifarious springs of action, and
motives of conduct, which make men what they are — and He,
and He alone, can judge.

' Behold, He puts no trust in His servants, and He charged
His angels with folly,' says Job (iv. 18). But 'who is able to
stand before the holy Lord God ?' This is the consideration which
we ought to place before our minds. ' If Thou, Lord, shouldst
mark iniquities, O Lord, who should stand ?' asks the Psalmist
(cxxx. 3). ' But,' he adds, * there is forgiveness with Thee,
that Thou mayest be feared.' If, indeed, the Lord came in all
the glory of His majesty to judge mankind, we could not stand
before Him — for ' all have sinned, and come short of the glory
of God.' If the Lord should come to judgment in all His
glory, all would be consumed, and none could stand — if in
wrath, He did not remember mercy, all mankind would be
consumed before Him. But just as when Moses desired to
see the glory of the Lord, the Lord assured Him, 'There shall
no man see Me, and live. Behold, there is a place by Me, and
I will put thee in a cleft of a rock, and will cover thee wiih My
hand, while I pass by' (Exod. xxxiii. 20-23) — so the Lord, in
the judgment, will moderate His glory by the presence of His
holy angels, and render it endurable by even the best of them

234 Nciu Studies in Christian Theology,

who come up to be received of Him. ' P'or it is of His mercy
that we are not consumed.'

Still, we must remember that this is a parable, and that we
must take no part of it in a literal sense. ' When the Son of
Man shall come in His glory,' we have already seen really
signifies, when Divine Truth shall appear in its own bright-
ness— when the clouds of matter and the temporal affairs of
earth shall no longer obscure the perception of spiritual truth,
— when a man has left this world and come into the light of
heaven, so that he is in a position to comprehend fully what is
good and what is true, and to know himself, of what quality he
is. This is, indeed, what takes place — not at some set time in
the distant future, as some believe, when the trumpet shall
sound, and all shall awake and arise to a general judgment,
after an indefinitely prolonged sleep — but at the death of every
man, who is then come unto judgment, each for himself, with-
out delays, without long intervals of mental unconsciousness.
Then shall not only Divine Truth itself explore him, but all the
holy oftgels, that is, all the truth of the Lord's Divine Good
shall be made active, as it were, by the medium of which judg-
ment shall be effected.

These holy angels become such, according to the degree in
which they become recipients of the life of truth proceeding
from the Lord's Divine Good. But none can immediately
become recipients of the influx of Divine Truth. In every case
it is received mediately through Heaven ; and, in the parable,
the Divine Truth itself is accompanied by angels, because
Heaven is thus constituted, and through the angelic medium
alone is Truth received, by influx.

' And before Him shall be gathered all nations.' In this ex-
pression the word ' nations ' means those who are in good or
evil, as its dual term, ' peoples,' refers to such as are in truth or
falsity. All nations being before Him, plainly indicates, there-
fore, that the good and evil of a man shall be exposed to the
light of Divine Truth, and each shall appear as he really is. Jt
is what is described m Hebrews (iv. 12) as the Word of God,

TJic Sheep and the Goats, 235

quick and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword,
piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of
the joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and
intents of the heart. Such, indeed, will be Divine Truth,
which shall explore each one of us, and make manifest all that
before was hidden in the depths of our own souls.

In such a light as this shall each stand confessed a sheep or
a goat — in general terms, that is, as good or as evil. But the
expressions s/ieep and goats mean something more than mere
good and evil— for while sheep generally mean those who are
in good, it more particularly refers to such as are in charity, and
thence in faith. The greatest of all Christian virtues is charity
— without charity the others are nothing worth — and such as
are in charity, and thence in faith, are the sheep ; the good,
who shall inherit eternal life. But the goats are those who are
in faith, but not in charity ; who pride themselves on a barren
belief; who think they shall be justified by their faith, yet per-
form not the works of faith ; who say * Lord, Lord,' but do not
the things which He commands. The goats are the confident
sleepers — the self-sufficient Pharisees who boldly knock, and
say, • Lord, Lord, open unto us ' — but to whom He shall
reply, ' Depart from Me ; I never knew you !'

' And He shall set the sheep on His right hand, and the
goats on His left.' Such an arrangement, indeed, is the true
spiritual arrangement of the good and the evil — such is the
correspondential attitude of truth and falsity — and this passage
alone would show that no literal sense is intended. He is the
Good Shepherd, and He knows His sheep, and is known of
them. His sheep hear His voice, and will recognise His call
to sit upon His right hand when He comes in His glory. But
only such as have been of His fold will be entitled to this
position. Nowhere do we read of goats in the flock of Christ.
They are the black sheep (so to speak) who have only entered
the fold by guile or by stealth. They are the wolves in sheep's
clothing, cf whom we read in Matt. vii. 15, and of whom the
true disciples were bid to beware, * Ye shall know them by

236 Nezv Studies in Christian Theology.

their fruits. Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of
thistles?' — they are those who have made a profession, but
have been altogether without that life of love, that leaven of
charity, without which all faith must be barren and dead.

Let us not fall, then, into the common error of supposing
that this great and solemn parable represents a realistic scene,
to be performed when, in some remote future, all mankind are
to be gathered together to receive judgment — when the Lord
in person shall sit upon a throne of glory, at once a royal
Monarch and a pastoral Shepherd — when all the holy angels
shall be present at the judgment of all mankind.

Such a scene has elements of grandeur which strike the
imagination, it is true ; but the imjjortance of the occasion to
every one of us cannot be enhanced by any supposititious
circumstances. For then will be the time for each of us,
individually, to lie bare and exposed to the searching light of
Divine Truth ; then shall what was done in a corner be pro-
claimed from the house-tops ; then shall every man be
perceived a sheep or a goat — a fit denizen of heaven or of
hell. This is the judgment which awaits us all, and the result
is in the power of everyone to modify for himself Let every
one of us, then, remember that the Divine Commandments
must not only be known but performed — that he must not
only believe, but do — that he must not bury his talent in a
napkin, but gain other talents therewith — that he feed the
hungry, clothe the naked and the stranger, and visit the sick —
and that whoso does these things in the fear and love of his
Saviour will be rewarded by hearing Him say, ' Inasmuch as
ye have done it unto the least of these, ye have done it unto
Me: come, ye blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom pre-
pared for you from the foundation of the world.'

LECTURE XXVII.

THE TRIU.MPpAL ENTRY INTO JERUSALEM,

' Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zioii : shout, O daughter of Jerusalem :
Lehold, thy King cometh unto thee ; He is just, and having salvation ;
lowly, and riding upon an ass, and upon a colt, the foal of an ass.' —
Zech. ix. 9.

Although the Old Testament prophecies often speak plainly
of the Messiah — His coming, His preaching, His kingdom,
His sufferings, and His death — there are few more palpable
and verbal fulfilments recorded in the Gospels than of the
circumstance referred to in the above passage. It is there
proclaimed, upwards of 500 years before Christ was born, that
the King of Zion and of Jerusalem, He who should be just
and having salvation, "should ride triumphant into the holy
city upon a colt, the foal of an ass ; a combination of remark-
able circumstances and declarations, which was most strikingly
fulfilled by subsequent events. And it is worthy of notice
that, although it does not always happen that even f/iree of the
Evangelists concur in recording the same event in the life of
our Lord, yet in this case, all f 021 r of them agree in a circum-
stantial description of this last entry into Jerusalem ; and the
2ist chapter of Matthew, the nth of Mark, the 19th of Luke,
and the 12th of John concur in all the chief particulars of the
event, which, having been already announced by prophecy,
has thus acquired a most momentous importance.

For this was the crowning event of His active life upon
earth. Hitherto He had been working diligently. ' My
Father worked hitherto, and / work,' He had said ; and truly
His years of ministry had not been idle or inactive. He had

238 Nciv Studies ill CJiristian Theology.

taught in their synagogues, and by the roadside, upon the
lake and upon the mount; He had healed the sick — He had
given sight to the blind, and feet to the lame — He had
cleansed the lepers — He had raised the dead. He had proved
everywhere, and on every occasion, that He was indeed One
with authority — that He was endowed with power, not human
only : He had spoken as never man spake ; He was a Prophet,
mighty in word and in deed ; and of these things most men
were convinced. He had striven with men, and had prevailed
where He wished to do so ; He had taken to task, and put to
shame, the wiser among the Jews, had pointed out their
errors, and called upon them to reform their lives, so that they
had sought to take Him in His talk, to excite the people
against Him, even to kill Him.

All this proved the activity of His life. His energy and
determination ; it proved also His power. The machinations
of His enemies were in vain, until the fulness of time should
come. It was in vain they led Him to the brow of a precipice
to cast Him down from thence : He passed among them and
went His way. His hour was not yet come.

But it was not to be so always. The time of His active life
would cease ; the time of His passive suffering would begin.
The hour had long been foretold by Him to His incredulous
disciples, when He should suffer many things from the elders,
and chief priests, and scribes, and be killed, and be raised
again the third day. They had given no credence to His
mournful presages ; but they were none tlie less true — none
the less fully known to, and realized by Him. And now the
time was come when He steadfastly set His face to go to
Jerusalem (Luke ix, 51).

But this final. visit to Jerusalem of one who was going to
certain death was not to be the simple journey of an unknown
and unhonoured citizen, furtive and unnoticed ; but our Lord,
in fulfilment of prophecy, and for the completion of His spiritual
mission, exercised His power once rhore, and for the last time,
over the fickle populace; and made that triumphant entry,

The Triumphal Entry into Jerusalem. 239

indicated by Zechariah, and circumstantially described by all
the four Evangelists. He had often said, ' My kingdom is not
of this world ' — and as often had His hearers failed to under-
stand His words. They always looked for some acts — some
avowal, which should spread consternation among His enemies,
and commence the drama of royalty which they secretly desired,
and ardently longed for. It was, doubtless, far from our
Blessed Lord's thoughts to have given any false hopes, or to
lend any colour whatever to the worldly views of His followers
— to lead them for a moment to imagine that any earthly
aggrandizement could be of the slightest moment to Him.
When, therefore, He had determined to enter Jerusalem as a
king might, amid the ascriptions of royalty, and the excited
vivas of the populace, He still held to His universally expressed,
but utterly misunderstood canon — ' My kingdom is not of this
world.'

But the gross and natural Jews could none of them compre-
hend the spiritual world in which His kingdom really lay. No
explanations to their surd and dull understandings could im-
press them with the true meaning of His words. He did not
repudiate royalty, but He disclaimed an earthly kingdom — He
was not come to restore the material beauty and prosperity of
Mount Zion, but to illustrate and establish the Beauty of
Holiness, and to reign over that spiritual Jerusalem which
should be established through the agency of His teaching, His
life, His suffering, and His death. He was not to be King of
the Jews — but King of kings, and Lord of lords. In this
world He was a Servant of servants — to teach us that humility
and self-sacrifice which would enable us hereafter, when He
should sit in glory and majesty at the right hand of the power
on high, to be where He was, and to stand within His
presence for ever. But of this they could never arrive at the
perception — never (until the teaching after His resurrection)
comprehend.

But that which our Lord, in pursuit of His paramount object,
and in virtue of the spiritual quality of His ministry did, repre-

240 N'ew Studies in Christian Theology.

sentatively — that which could in no other way be of permanent
value and importance — the people attributed to other motives ;
measuring the things of the Lord by their own standard, and
after their own wishes. To be an earthly king was their ideal
— to be a heavenly King was His mission. Everything that
He did, and every word that He spoke, had a spiritual and a
celestial meaning and object ; for thus He associated earth
with heaven, thus He assured an endless kingdom, of which
they had no idea. In no other way could He act ; and the
merely jubilant ride into Jerusalem, with the symbols of royalty,
w^ould have been, indeed, a trifling matter, compared with the
great issues that ride symbolized and typified. But the time
was not yet come when the Jews could know t/iis. Their
minds were not, and for a long time would not be, opened to
comprehend these things ; but Truth remains for ever, and
the time would come when the Hosannas to the imaginary
king of Jerusalem would be changed to the cries of 'Salvation
to our God which sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb;'
when the shouts of a fickle and blind populace, who hailed the
advent of a supposititious king of the Jews, would be superseded
by the deep-felt and soul-expressed ascription of ' Blessing, and
glory, and wisdom, and thanksgiving, and honour, and power,
be unto our God for ever and ever. Amen ' (Rev. vii.).

Yes, the people now vainly imagined that He who rode, not
humbly, but royally, upon an ass's colt, with the outward
symbols of power, was about to assume that attitude which
they all desired — was about to exercise that authority with
which they all credited Him, and to overthrow the hated yoke
of the Romans, under which they had so long been oppressed.
The wish was father to the thought, and they thronged out of
the city to meet and welcome Him. They themselves afforded
by their enthusiasm those very adjuncts which made His
progress seem a royal one ; and as they descended the slope
of the Mount of Olives, * much people that were come to the
feast took branches of palm trees and went forth to meet Him.
And many spread their garments in the way, and others cut

The Triumphal Entry into Jerusalem. 241

down branches of trees and strawed them in the way. And
they that went before and they tha*: followed cried, saying,
Hosanna ! blessed is He that cometh in the name of the Lord.
Blessed be the kingdom of our father David, that cometh in
the name of the Lord : Hosanna in the Highest !' The excite-
ment spread far and wide that the Deliverer was at hand, and all
went out by a common impulse to welcome and receive Him.

And so, indeed, was the Deliverer at hand ; but not in
the sense of those who swelled the royal progress^the brief,
short-lived earthly triumph, which was but a type of higher
things. For those who were within earshot of our Lord as He
turned that corner from Bethany, which brought the city of
Jerusalem into His view, might have heard a fatal lamentation
— a yearning woe — fall from His sacred lips, which would
have dashed all their hopes of an earthly rejuvenescence of
their beloved city and temple. For Jesus, when He beheld
the city, wept over it, saying, ' If thou hadst known, even thou^
at least in this thy day, the things which belong unto thy
peace ! but now they are hid from thine eyes. For the days
shall come upon thee, that thine enemies shall cast a trench
about thee, and compass thee round, and keep thee in on
every side, and shall lay thee even with the ground, and thy
children within thee ; and they shall not leave in thee one
stone upon another ; because thou knewest not the time of
thy visitation' (Luke xix. 41-44). And how completely was
this fatal prediction fulfilled in due time, and not many years
after, when the Roman conqueror levelled the temple, and
exercised a terrible vengeance, as a Divine retribution, upon
the faithless city which had refused to recognise the I>ord and
Giver of Life when He visited it — which had betrayed and
murdered the Prince of Peace when He came unto His own
and His own received Him not.

Not less, however, was this prediction descriptive of the
spiritual condition in which the people of the city would be
placed by their wickedness, and by the terrible crime of which
they had become collectively guilty. These stones, indeed,

16

242 Neiv Studies in Christian Theology.

the stones of the goodly temple, were truths — the truths of
which the Church was built up ; truths which had been out-
raged and profaned, and were no longer fit to be arranged
in a symmetrical and heavenly doctrine, but were to be
disjointed and disconnected — to be torn asunder and utterly
thrown down ; no longer a goodly edifice of Heaven-inspired
teaching, but a corrupt and subverted ruin, which, instead
of representing Heaven upon earth, should only cumber the
earth with the fragments of unseemly disorder. Not that
God's temple could be so destroyed, for the temple, as it then
stood, was rather man's than God's — the temple of Herod,
rather than the temple of Solomon ; and hence its doom.
But the stones of which it was built were yet representatives
of truths, which should be hereafter reconstructed in a spiritual
manner in the fulness of time, so that the glory of the latter
house should greatly exceed the glory of the former.

And so also all that passed in that memorable entry into
Jerusalem was representative of the passage of our Lord
towards the consummation of His errand — the glorification of
His humanity ; just as it was, in a secondary manner, sym-
bolical of the passage of the human soul through the stages of
regeneration, and more especially through the later stages of
spiritual progress. Like the ancient Jews, the Saviour set out
from Jericho to go to Jerusalem. He rode, as kings rode in
those days, upon an ass's colt, though He was meek — not in
the sense of lowly, or of poor estate — but like those meek who
shall inherit the earth, those who abound in charity, and in the
good derived therefrom ; or, in the case of our Saviour, as the
Representative of Divine love, out of which flows celestial good.
He came upon an ass, because He thus symbolized the spiritual
principle dominating the rational ; and His thus coming to
^Mount Zion signifies the reception of Divine love and Divine
good into the inmost human heart, when the understanding
and the will are in accord, and concur to give them welcome.
All the affections from the highest to the lowest — both those
that go before and those that follow after — join in a hymn of

TJic Triumphal Entry into Jerusalem. 243

praise and cordially sing Hosannas, and offer praises to Him
who thus shed abroad His love in their hearts, and filled their
whole being with rejoicing and blessing.

And when He had entered the city He went straight to the
temple of God, and drove out thence all them that sold and
bought in the temple, and overthrew the tables of the money-
changers, and the seats of them that sold doves, saying, ' Aly
house shall be called the house of prayer.' But the temple of
God was the temple of His body, and thus He shadowed forth
how He was at that hour engaged, in thrusting forth from His
humanity — now approaching to perfection — all those imperfec-
tions of nature, all their weaknesses of inheritance which yet
clung to it, and which alone prevented it from becoming the
Divine-Human fount of salvation to mankind. And when
thus cleansed. He could heal the blind and the lame that
came to Him there ; He could restore the halting soul. He
could renew the spiritual sight, and become the Saviour of the
lost, the Redeemer of the forfeit and perishing.

Such, in brief, were the spiritual characteristics of the great
triumph of His entry into Jerusalem, just before that fearful
time of His betrayal and death. The people who sang Hosannas
did so because they thought they saw in Him a king who
offered a prospect of speedy deliverance from an earthly yoke.
How much more would they have done so had they been
able to comprehend the deliverance from an infernal yoke
which a God was bringing them ! They shouted welcome
because they saw in Him the fulfilment of their natural desires ■
for a ruler of their own nation, who should lead them to victory
against the Roman foe. How would they have shouted could
they have known that they should thereby welcome into their
own hearts the kingdom of Heaven — the yoke of Christ — and
the blessing of a longsuffering and gracious Jehovah !

No wonder indeed that the whole city was moved, and men
were fain to ask, 'Who is this?' If once men can be moved
to ask such, a question, it shows that they have been moved
deeply in the springs of their being. The awakened conscience

16 — 2

244 Neiu Studies in Christian Theology.

asks, ' What has done this ?' The hearer of strange, and new,
and soul-stirring truth asks, ' Who is this, who speaks as never
man spake ?' The believer who hears and recognises God's
voice as something apart from and above the teaching of men
asks, *Who is this that teaches with authority?' And our
Lord's entry into Jerusalem caused men to ask one another,
' JV/io is this ?' So the prophet Isaiah asks, in the 63rd chapter,
when he says, ' Who is this that cometh from Edom, with dyed
garments from Bozrah ? and that is glorious in His apparel,
travelhng in the greatness of His strength ?' For such indeed
was He who now came, meek, and riding upon an ass, to His
final conquest, his ultimate victory at Jerusalem. ' I that
speak in righteousness, mighty to save,' He might have
replied, — I who, after one more struggle, shall ascend to My
Father, a Mediator between God and man, able to save to the
uttermost them that come unto God by Me. The gates of
ferusalem were open to receive Jesus the Prophet of Nazareth,
and not only so, but Jehovah, the Word made flesh ! ' Lift up
your heads, O ye gates, and be ye lift up, ye everlasting
doors, and the King of Glory shall come in. Who is this King
of Glory? The Lord strong and mighty — the Lord mighty in
battle. Lift up your heads, O ye gates, and be ye lift up, ye
e\ erlasting doors, and the King of Glory shall come in. Who
is this King of Glory ? The Lord of Hosts — He is the King of
Glory.' Amen.

LECTURE XXVIII.

' BEHOLD THE MAN !'

' Then came Jesus forth, wearing the crown of thorns, and the purple
robe. And {he) sailh unto them, Behold the Man !' — ^ToHN xix. 5.

Never did it please God to bring good out of evil in a more
striking and stupendous manner than in that great Tragedy
which is so graphically described in the chapter from which
this verse is taken. Never did more discordant elements —
more widely different characters — come into play than in the
all-important event ; an event in which good and evil, each in
its kind pre-eminent, were wondrously mingled ; all that was
evil in it being caused by man, all that was good the gift of
God ! In that fearful crime, the human race stand con-
spicuously prominent in the lurid light of the blackest of male-
factors ; while the Divine Being, who was the object of their
fiercest hatred, and their bitterest persecution, showed His
infinite forbearance, in passively suffering all that their malice
could inflict ; and His infinite love in submissively enduring
the bitterest humiliations, the vilest insults, without anger
and without reproach — in order that thereby He might fulfil
all that had been written concerning him — in order that He
might accomplish the self-imposed work of man's redemption —
in order that, for their sakes. He might ascend and sit down at
the right hand of the Majesty on high — a Reconciler, an Atoner,
and a Mediator between God and man.

The narrative given by St. John and the other Evangelists
abounds with incidents of absorbing interest, of which the
central figure is ever the meek and unoffending Victim, whom

246 Neiu Studies in Christian Theology.

the insane wrath of man was about to sacrifice ; and that
terrible and never-to-be-forgotten day was crowded with
wondrous events, each of which in their import to us— in their
aspect as fulfilments of prophecy, in their fearful load of
responsibility on the active performers in the scene — might
occupy our attention for a long time.

But of these details there is one, which is only mentioned
by St. John, which does not appear to have received the
attention it deserves ; one which is inferior to none in import-
ance, though usually overlooked or misconstrued.

The vacillating Pilate, the Roman Governor, a man of no
religion, and quite unable to enter into the personal prejudices
and animosities of the Jews, was willing, from a sort of lazy
good-nature, to have saved Jesus from the machinations of His
enemies. Not appreciating the strong feeling manifested by the
Jewish accusers, he fancied he could non-suit them when they
brought Jesus before him, and required His condemnation.
' What accusation do you bring against this man ?' he demanded
— and when they vaguely accused Him as a malefactor, bringing
forward no specific charge, he at once perceived that for envy
they had delivered Him ; and he determined that he would
himself question the object of this popular outcry. ' Art thou
the King of the Jews ?' Pilate asked, curiously, as though it
was some natural phenomenon which did not concern him.
Our Lord answered him according to this thought, whereupon
Pilate disclaimed all interest in the matter, except mere
curiosity. ' Am I a Jew ?' ' What can it matter to me whether
you claim a kingdom or not ?' ' What hast thou done ?' ' My
kingdom' (our Lord answered) 'is not of this world. I am come
to bear witness to the Truth.' ' What is Truth ?' then still
carelessly demanded the Roman Governor ; but to this most
important question, no answer is recorded.

Inconsistently, but still, perhaps, out of good-nature, and
wishing to spare Jesus a worse punishment, Pilate ordered
Him to be scourged. But Pilate was no Christian. It does
not appear that the truths and blessings brought by this

• Behold the Man !' 247

reviled and despised Nazarene had touched either his in-
tellect or his heart. Pilate probably looked upon our Lord as
some Quixotic Jew, who had brought upon himself the envy
and malice of the elders of Israel by a superiority of teaching,
or perhaps by a too stern denunciation of their vices. Although
not a pattern of virtue himself, he doubtless had lived long
enough among the Jews to perceive the hoUowness of their
faith, the meanness and narrow-mindedness of the Pharisaical
professors ; and it is not unlikely that the demeanour of
our Lord may have raised in him a faint desire to save Him
from the fanatical crowd, who had nothing definite to prefer
against Him. Pilate looked with contempt upon all Jews;
but we cannot wonder that even he should have conceived
some respect for the person of our Lord, and, mingled with it,
a certain amount of pity for His critical position. He would
willingly have saved Him, if he could have done so without
the loss of his own influence and position. He evidently
thought at first that he could have done so, and con-
temptuously set aside the outcries of the people as mere empty
noise ; but he had not calculated the fierce malevolence of the
Jewish crowd, urged on and excited as it was by the Pharisees
and rulers. He soon found that he was powerless to stem
the tide of their malignity and hatred, and ultimately they
obliged him to yield all that they demanded. At this period,
however, he probably considered that he might compromise
the matter — that, if he let them have their own way to a
certain extent, their fury could be abated, and they would at
length cool down and be pacified. He therefore allowed the
soldiers to do very much as they chose, although he at the
same time condemned himself, by announcing to the niultitude
that he found no fault in Him at all.

But something must be done to appease the tumult, so
Pilate ordered Him to be scourged, and gave Him over to the
tender mercies of the Roman soldiery. And these blood-
thirsty and half-savage men, accustomed to the sight of blood
and wounds, not only in lawful or unlawful war, but also in the

248 Nezv Studies in Christian Theology.

demoralizing scenes in the arena of the Colosseum, thought
little of cruelly scourging a Jew; but as a vile travesty of the
kingship of our Lord, and in coarse and cruel jest, they hit
upon the device of a crown of thorns, which pierced His
Divine brow, a reed was placed in His passive hand, as the
mockery of a sceptre, and a purple robe of the Imperial colour
was contemptuously thrown upon His scourged shoulders, and
His persecutors scornfully bowed the knee, and addressed
Him with grim irony as the King of the Jews.

Let us pause a moment to consider this awful, this terrible,
this sublime scene. The Lord and Giver of Life — the Creator
and Sustainer of the Universe — the Fountain of Love and
Wisdom — the King of Kings and Lord of Lords — the
Ineffable, the Eternal, the Omniscient, and the Almighty
God — in His human form, which He had assumed in love for
mankind — sat silent ! scourged, mocked, buffeted, tormented,
insulted, and reviled by the lowest, the most brutal, the vilest
of His creatures ! With supreme patience, and with Divine
dignity. He endured all this : when He was reviled, He reviled
not again ; when He suffered, He threatened not ; He was
oppressed and He was afflicted ; He was brought as a lamb to
the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so
He opened not His mouth.

Who else could have endured all this, not only in conscious
innocence, not only in the knowledge of the black ingratitude
involved, but also in the consciousness of Almighty Power ?
Will He now pray to His Father, who shall presently give
Him more than twelve legions of angels ? ' But how, then,
shall the Scriptures be fulfilled, that thus it must be ? The
cup that My Father giveth Me to drink, shall I not drink it ?'

Only Infinite Love could have sustained Him ! Nothing
less could have been sufficient for the mighty strain. For the
sake of Love, Infinite Power bowed before infinitesimal weak-
ness ; for the sake of Love, Infinite Goodness permitted
Himself to be the sport and jest of the basest and most
degraded of human passions ; for the sake of Love, Infinite

' Behold the Man /' 249

Majesty was content to be crowned with thorns, to hold in His
hands a mock sceptre, to be clad in a robe of insulting purple !
' Herein is Love — not that we loved Him, but that He first
loved us, and gave Himself for us.'

And when the soldiers had thus wreaked upon Him all the
base and pitiful passions which could disfigure humanity,
Pilate again came forth, and saith unto the crowds outside,

* Behold, I bring Him forth to you, that ye may know that I
find no fault in Him.' He still seemed to think that he could
override the popular feeling, and doubtless imagined that the
sight of the accused, thus scourged and insulted, might wean
them from further malice. But, if so, he was grievously mis-
taken. For when Jesus came forth, wearing the crown of thorns
and the purple robe, their rage only broke forth afresh, and
when the chief priests and officers saw Him, they cried out,
saying, ' Crucify Him, crucify Him !' Nothing less than His
death would satisfy them; their passions were excited to the
point that no power could stem them but His blood. Pilate
was cowed, and although he still made efforts to prevent the
catastrophe up to a certain point, they were useless against the
torrent of popular malice and rage.

But at this period it was that that memorable saying was
uttered which forms the key-note of this Lecture. We read,

* Then came Jesus forth, wearing the crown of thorns and
the purple robe. And he saith unto them. Behold the Man. f
Saith unto them — yes, but who saith unto them, ' Behold the
Man ' ? We read in our Testament, Filate saith unto them ;
and we are accustomed to understand that it was Pilate who
made the announcement. But if we turn to the passage, we
shall find that the word Pilate is in italics, which means that it
is not in the original Greek. If this is the case (as it is), it
could not have been Pilate who thus proclaimed their victim, for
although Pilate's name is used at the beginning of the verse
before, grammatical construction will not allow of the verb

* saith ' claiming that name for its nominative case. For we
read, ' Then came Jesus forth, wearing the crown_ of thorns

250 Nezv Studies in Christian Theology,

and the purple robe. And He saith unto them, Behold the
Man !' But ' He saith ' cannot refer to Pilate. It can only refer
to Jesus Himself.

If it had been Pilate who made this exclamation, he would
(though unwittingly) have proclaimed a great fact. He would
merely have meant to announce that here before them was the
jiian whom they accused, and whom he had scourged, though
the form of the expression was susceptible of other and larger
meanings, bringing to mind the Man Christ Jesus, who the
Apostle afterwards declared to be the only Mediator between
God and man. But if it was (as it seems to have been) our
Lord who thus announced Himself, exclaiming to the assem-
bled people, ' Behold the Man !' then did He proclaim Him-
self with truth as the Man par excellence. For He was //^^Man
above all other men — He was the typical Man, the beginning
and the ending, the be-all and end-all — the sum and essence
of all that constitutes humanity in its highest form — in its
most exalted possibilities. It was as though He had exclaimed,
* Behold in Me the Man of men ! Behold in Me the New
Adam, the Restorer, the Regenerator of your race — in this
suffering and contemned form, recognise the Man-God, who is
in a short space to become the God-Man !'

God the Creator, who by the word of His power created the
heaven and the earth — He also created man in His own image,
and after His own likeness ; and He breathed in his nostrils
the breath of life, and man became a living soul. Thus at his
very beginning and origin, man obtained a kinship of form with
his Maker. He, the creature, was formed in a mould which
the Creator of all things had already chosen for Himself — a
form originally, therefore, spiritual, although invested in an,
earthly body. This, as the most glorious of all sentient forms,
He had deigned to impart to His creature, whom He designed
to be a receptacle of His own Divine Love and Wisdom in a
finite measure, and an intelligent though necessarily finite
reflector of His own infinite perfections.

This was God's gift to man, which, if he had preserved

'Behold the Man': 251

intact, heaven would have remained, as it first was, on earth^ — ■
and man would have continued in innocence and happiness.
But he ill repaid the glorious distinction ; and falling away
from the perfect condition in which he was created, he de-
formed the God-like image in himself, blasted the divinely
breathed life — and the living soul became a dead spirit. The
first Adam fell, and, with his fall, brought a heritage of death
and destruction upon all his posterity, who by nature are there-
fore born in sin. And from this self-inflicted penalty they are
incapable of doing anything of themselves to restore themselves
to their original condition, from which they have voluntarily
fallen. From this state they can only be delivered by the
second Adam, greater than the first. For, as the first Adam is
a representative of the human race unregenerate, polluted,
dead in trespasses and sins, so the second Adam is a Represen-
tative of the same human race, redeemed from sin, regenerated
to holiness, made alive once more, and for ever. '■ For as in
Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive.'

But to eff'ect the vast work of redemption, to restore fallen
man once more to his pristine innocence, was a task which
none but a God could conceive — none but a God could put
into execution. For, observe, it would not have been enough
to restore man to his original condition ; what had happened
once would happen again. God knows, only too well, that
man, left to himself, would soon begin the downward path,
under the love of self and the world ; and the restriction would
have been made in vain, unless with it were some safeguard,
which, established once for all, would ever be a support to his
weakness — a stimulus to his better nature. And to effect this,
the Lord Himself, in His infinite wisdom, determined that no
less a step was necessary than that He should take upon Him-
self our nature, and become Himself a man — a man, not like
us, finite, imperfect, weak, and sinful — but infinite, perfect, and
holy — yet no less, at the same time, humble, and meek, and
suffering.

For He who, in the form of God, thought it no robbery to

252 Neio Studies in Cliristian TJicology.

be equal with God — He made Himself of no reputation, but
took upon Himself the form of a Servant, and was made in the
likeness of men. And being found in fashion as a man, He
humbled Himself, and became obedient unto death — even the
death of the cross. But He was no less Divine that He set us
an example of humility ; He was no less God that He suffered
the death of His human, material body ; He was no less the
Omnipotent Ruler of Heaven that He was made a little lower
than the angels for the suffering of death. He was the Word
made flesh — the Word, which in the beginning made all things,
who was with God, and who was God. Although incarnate in
a human form, making Himself subject to all the persecutions
and malice of those whom His sufferings were benefiting, He
was no less God, almighty, eternal, and invisible. God was the
soul of that body, which, before His death on the cross, no
man could distinguish from his fellow's.

But it behoved Him to be persecuted and afflicted; it be-
hoved Him to suffer death, that we might enter into life ; it
became Him, for whom are all things, and by whom are all
things, in bringing many sons unto glory, to make the Captain
of their salvation perfect through sufferings. And so the in-
finite Man died on the cross for finite mankind. He became
sin for us, who knew no sin, that we might be made the
righteousness of God in Him.

But it was in His capacity as man. The Godhead could suffer
grief for His erring creatures — the Godhead could strive with
them in Love — the Godhead could bear with patience and
longsuffering the obduracy and obstinacy of mankind ; — but as
Dian alone could He die for them — as man alone could He
mediate for them — as man alone could He remit the penalty.
For since by jnaii came death, by Man came also the resurrec-
tion from the dead.

But the nia)L in our Lord, always infinite, was becoming
perfect. By the resistance of temptation, by the conquest of
the powers of darkness, by the victory over evil and sin, He
was gradually effecting that great work which He had set

' Behold the Man f 255

Himself to perform, and whose cost He Himself only knew,
the sanctification and the glorification of His humanity, in
order that it might be so purified and purged from all touch of
earth, and from all the dross of the nature in which He was
born in the world, as to be made fit for perfect conjunction
with the Divine in Him. For He was a Man of like passions
with us, tempted in all points like as we are. And now He
was near perfection. Each act of His life, each persecution
and suffering, brought Him nearer to the goal to which He
was hastening, though the most difficult steps to that end yet
remained to be taken. His death on the cross would finish
the work. His glorification was at hand. ' Behold the Man !'
He exclaimed, 'the Man whom ye have rejected, and whom
with cruel hands ye are about to crucify and slay !' Behold
the Man, who so long has walked in your midst, has healed
your sick, raised your dead, preached the Gospel unto you !
Behold the Man, whom yet a little while, and ye will behold
Him no more for ever, unless, indeed, it shall be yours to see
Him crowned with glory, and honour, and majesty, and
dominion, and sitting at the right hand of power on high. For
He whom ye now see suffering, afflicted, tormented — He
whom ye now behold in' His extremity of bodily anguish, and
of earthly dishonour — He it is who shall hereafter be seen in
the midst of the seven golden candlesticks, like unto the Son
of Man, clothed with a garment down to His foot, and girt
about the paps with a golden girdle. His head and His hair
were white like wool, as white as snow, and His eyes were as
a flame of fire, and His feet like unto fine brass, as if they
burned in a furnace, and His voice as the sound of many
waters. And He had in His right hand seven stars ; and out
of His mouth went a two-edged sword, and His countenance
was as the sun shineth in its strength.' Behold the Man !
infinite, perfect, glorified. Divine !

This is that Man who died for us, even Jesus Christ, that
liveth and was dead, and behold He is alive for evermore.
This is He who, although God, yet became man, in order that

254 Neiv Studies in Christian TJicology.

He might become the Mediator between God and man, even
the Man Jesus Christ, the righteous, the propitiation for our
sins, and not for ours only, but also for the sins of the whole
world. This is the Man who burst the bands of death, because
it was not possible that He should be holden of it. Where-
fore God hath highly exalted Him, and hath given Him a name
which is above every name — that at the name of Jesus every
knee should bow — of things in Heaven, and things in earth,
and things under the earth, and that every tongue should
confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the
Father.

Behold the ]Man ! and let all exclaim with one voice
(as did the centurion of old), ' Truly this Man was the Son of
God!'

LECTURE XXIX.

NOT THIS MAN, BUT BARABBAS.

' Not this man, but Barabbas.' — John xviii. 40.

Amid all the incidents of the great Tragedy, so full of awful
scenes, and so teeming with terrible episodes, there are some
which appeal to every state of soul, and to every phase of
mind — some which carry with them feelings too deep for
expression, too pregnant for utterance, of sorrow, of shame, of
pity, of remorse. In this great event, all the evil feelings of
mankind seem to have met, as it were, in a focus — ingratitude,
treachery, folly, cruelty, hatred of good, and thirst for blood ;
all these vilenesses seemed to have struggled together, and
become immixed in a chaotic mass of seething wickedness in
the breasts of that dread representative section of the human
race which hounded on the sinless Redeemer of mankind to
the place which they had ruthlessly determined should see His
death agonies upon the cross.

No meekness in the Victim they were leading, as a lamb to
the slaughter ; no remembrance of the blamelessness of His
life and conversation ; no softening from His wise teaching,
which had compelled their admission that ' never man spake
like this man ;' no recollection of His yearning love towards
them, which would have gathered them as a hen gathers her
chicken under her wing ; no heartfelt thankfulness for all the
benefits daily conferred upon them by Him who had gone
about doing good ; in a word, no motives of past favours or
present pity could stand for one moment against the selfish
determination to indulge the vilest passions of their unbridled

256 Nezv Studies in CJiristian Theology.

wickedness in the sacrifice of what they knew in their hearts
had no other fault than the silent but intolerable rebuke to
their hardened and thankless hearts.

Except the disciples, who all forsook Him and fled, there
was but one who had anything like pity. The Roman Governor,
Pilate, free from the prejudices which blinded the Jewish mob,
was unable to see His crime, and refused to beheve Him a
malefactor. ' What accusation do you bring ?' he asked the
people, in the hope that he could soften the rock, or melt
their hearts of flint. But accusation they had none but the
foregone conclusion that He was a malefactor, whom they
wished to kill, and who, therefore, had deserved death. * Nay,
then ' (said Pilate), ' take Him, and judge Him according to
your law ;' still willing to save Hirn, but in vain. Again, over-
ruled by the resistless and merciless multitude, he was fain to
seek escape from the burden imposed upon him by the
endeavour to give them an excuse for His release in pursuance
of a time-honoured right. ' Ye have a custom that I should
release unto you one at the Passover.' (It was a day of grace
for one criminal at least.) 'Will ye, therefore, that I release
unto you the King of the Jews ? Then cried all with one
voice, ' Not this 7?ia?i, but Barahhos. Now Barabbas was a
robber.'

Pilate was but one among ten thousand. He did not profess
to be a follower of Christ. He was not even one of those to
whom Christ came, one of those of his race — his own, who
received him not. He was a Roman — not worse than other
Romans — perhaps better ; for although urged by the blind
accusations of the Jews, he courageously declared, * I find in
Him no fault at all.' And although he ultimately weakly
succumbed to the popular fury, and gave his countenance to
that which they so vehemently desired and demanded, we
must remember that as the Roman Governor, he was bound
to keep order in his province, and was liable to be called to
account by his superiors for the tumult which was becoming so
dangerous. He knew not Jesus as the Christ ; his eyes had

^ Not this Man, but Barabbas' "257

not been opened to know Him as the Holy One of Israel ; but
he saw in Him a just man, whom all his power and authority
were vain to protect in the face of the excitement and hatred
of a seething populace. He was in his eyes a single individual,
whose sacrifice was demanded in the interests of the peace of
the province ; and as such, he perhaps acutely, perhaps with
political prudence — but yet at least with regret, and with a
struggle — sacrificed Him. And our Lord Himself ansvvered
him, ' Thou couldest have no power at all against Me, except
it were given thee from above : therefore he that delivered Me
unto thee hath the greater sin ' (John xix. 11).

We have spoken of that body of men who cried out ' Crucify
Him,' and who drove our Saviour out to Mount Calvary, as a
representative section of the human race — and such indeed
they were. For they represented all that was selfish, evil, and
cruel in our human nature. They represented passions and
qualities, which, in their day, and under their circumstances,
found free scope, and gave themselves unbridled vent.

We must not suppose that the men of that day were worse
than the men of another day ; that what they did would not
have been done in any other age, or by any other people. The
nature of mankind, originally pure, has fallen to depths of
depravity, which the well-disposed and little-tempted have but
slight idea of. The fall was gradual, but it was complete and
perfect. The descent is always easy, and when entered
upon, is seldom a half-measure ; the depth is reached too
often ; the abyss is sounded with too great facility. And
mankind was sunk into that abyss. ' The heart ' (says the
Prophet Jeremiah) 'is deceitful above all things, and desperately
wicked. Who can know it?' (Jer. xvii. 9). Certainly not man
himself — who does base and mean actions unblushingly, and
with a serene countenance ; or who stands proudly by, and
contemplates wickedness in others, thanking God that he is
not as other men are — for so he deems in his ignorance and
pride of heart.

And yet, we repeat, the murderous crowd who killed the

17

258 New Studies in Christian TJieology.

Lord of Light and Glory was representative. For high as are
the aspirations, and grand as are the capabilities of mankind
for the performance of deeds of self-sacrifice, and charity, and
love — so, on the other hand, unlimited are its powers of evil-
doing, boundless are the possibilities of its debasements,
and unfathomable are the depths to which it may sink in the
slough of infamy and guilt. The fallen nature of man
embraces every grade of evil, as of good. Left to himself, he
must sink, because his nature is inclined to evil : without help
from above, he must hopelessly and helplessly drift down the
stream of irresistible self-indulgence, and unstemmed desire, to
the black ocean of destruction and death. Who is it that
maketh us to differ ? It is by the grace of God that we are
what we are.

But the natural tendency of every heart is to exclaim, * Not
this man, but Barabbas !' To follow Christ is too irksome, too
contrary to our inborn nature, our most cherished inclinations.
To the evil man, it seems a kind of slavery to be obliged to do
that which is good. He ever seeks for what he calls freedom
— freedom, that is, to follow his own desires and evil instincts,
which are contrary to the law of life. The freedom which he
desires is really but license — the liberty he thinks so precious
is but slavery to sin and to evil lusts — and the life which he
thinks only worth enjoyment is in reality but death. The
works of the flesh have their charms for our nature before it is
regenerated, but the end of these things is death. It is not
natural to us to see the liberty into which we come by obey-
ing the law — the liberty wherewith Christ has made us free.
Wickedness and error are subtle enslavers, which bind us by
heavy penalties to perform their behests, offering us no adequate
reward, but only the dissatisfaction and upbraiding of our own
hearts, and a death to all that is holy, and good, and that gives
true delight to the soul.

Such is the lot of those who choose Barabbas ; but to follow
Christ is to secure ultimate peace and joy — a full satisfaction
and content which shall never fail us — a sense of happiness

'Not this Man, but Bar abb as! 259

and freedom which shall amply repay all the anxieties and
doubts by which it has been purchased — rest to the soul —
confidence in the future — hope, the soul's anchor — ever open-
ing and enlarging capacities for living — a true liberty : for if
the Son shall make you free, then are ye free indeed.

We are apt to imagine in the pride of our hearts that if we
had been called upon to decide between Christ and Barabbas,
we should have had no hesitation in our choice. We suppose
that these things were done in a dark age, when men were
sunk lower in wickedness than ever before or since. And in
this, to a certain extent, we are right. Men were then in a
state so dark and so fallen, that there was a danger of their total
destruction, and hence it was, that Christ Himself came at that
juncture to save them. But they were only capable then of
what we are now. Human nature, in the general, does not
change unless it be in prolonged cycles, to which 1,800 years
is but as a watch in the night. That it does change in such
long cycles is evident — for man was created innocent, and he
is now guilty ; he was formed upright, and he is now fallen.
Christ's advent in the flesh was to restore him to his pristine
innocence and uprightness, but how long a period it would take
to bring about this reconstruction we may jud^e partly by what
has been effected in eighteen centuries. How much are we
better than they? What are the fruits of Christianity in the
human race .'' Great they are in the individuals composing that
race ; but how much is the race itself lifted above that of the
first century ? Do we even see in these days, the self-abnegation
— the self-devotion — the self-sacrifice, which characterized the
early Christians, the martyrs of the first centuries of Christianity?
There is a leaven, doubtless — but does this leaven so leaven
the whole lump, that if Christ were to come amongst us in the
same guise as He came amongst the Jews, He would escape a
similar fate ? would that leaven so ferment as to sustain men,
as faith sustained men in the circus and at the stake ? We
know not. Perhaps we cannot tell until it has been tried ; but
we do know that the nature of m.an in the abstract, remains the

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26o New Studies in Christian Theology.

same. We do know that there are the same cruelty, bigotry,
love of dominion, ignorance, crime, and wretchedness, as there
were in the days of our Lord. There is perhaps less faith now,
indeed, than there was a io."^ centuries back. Men deny their
God and their Saviour more now than they did in the dark
Middle Ages.

We are at a phase — arising from mental enfranchisement
perhaps — which for a time at least kills faith, and deadens
belief. It is a phase only, and a necessary one — the
reaction from a long period of mental slavery — a result of an
evil, which result must be passed through before the good can
spring up. For men's consciences and souls have been en-
thralled for ages ; and all that mediaeval devotion was, as we
know, tainted with superstition, arising as it did from ignorance,
and a spurious feeling brought about by a priestly despotism.
But now men's souls are freed from this incubus ; and the
overstrung mind reacts, and flies backward, like an unstrung
bow, in the opposite direction of unbelief and want of faith.
This will, in time, adapt itself to truth and righteousness ; and
the immutable laws of our nature will assert themselves ; the
gentle and irresistible influences of Christianity will, by degrees,
be more and more felt, and individual Christians will make
themselves more and more a power in the community, and
help more and more, as time goes on, in the reconstruction of
the kingdom of Christ upon earth, and in spreading over the
world the benefits of the freedom which is in Christ and in the
Truth ; like the dew from heaven which refreshes and renews
every living thing. But to recall one's steps — that is the
difficulty ; and as ages only sufficed for the degeneracy of the
human race, so must ages at least be required for that admir-
able millennium, which some easy souls are looking for from
day to day.

If, as some ancient MSS. seem to indicate, Barabbas was
also called Jesus, it shows, in a remarkable manner, the choice
laid before the Jews. Barabbas was a robber, a rtpresentative
of evil ; Christ was the embodiment of all that was pure and

^ Not this Man, but Barabbas.' 261

good. The choice lay, therefore, distinctly between evil and
good — and they chose evil. It is, perhaps, not wonderful that
they should have done so when we see how they had prepared
the way for their choice. For this, we must bear in mind, was
the Passover, ordained in remembrance of the time when God,
by a great stroke of judgment against the oppressors of the
Israelites, set them, His oppressed people, free. But the Jews
had, by some perversion, made this the occasion for setting
free the guilty at the expense of the innocent, and Barabbas,
the robber, was allowed to escape, in order that Jesus, the just
man, might be condemned to death.

But let us not be the judges — let us remember that, although
in these days we are not openly called upon to say whether we
will have this Man, or Barabbas — we are yet assured by St.
Paul (Heb. vi. 6), that there are still lines of action which men
may follow to their own destruction, ' seeing that they crucify
to themselves the Son of God afresh ; and put Him to open
shame.' If the Jews were guilty, how much greater must be
our condemnation under such circumstances !

LECTURE XXX.

'come, see the place where the lord lay.'

' And the angel answered and said unlo the women, Fear not ye : for I
know that ye seek Jesus, which was cruciried. He is not here : for he is
risen, as He said. Come, see the place where the Lord lay.' — Matt.
xxviii. 5, 6.

When the Sabbath had dawned upon those who were bowed to
the earth with the load of the irreparable loss (as it appeared)
of Him whom they had expected to be at once the champion
and the King of Israel — not one of all those who had been
accustomed to follow our Lord, and to hear His teachings, had
any hope, or saw any way out of the calamitous cloud which
had overshadowed their hopes and expectations. They had
trusted (as they said) that it had been He which should have
redeemed Israel — not from sin, however, but from the Roman
yoke ; and in spite of all our Lord's speech, plain and implied,
they fully believed that Messiah would be an earthly sovereign,
who should, like Gideon of old, lead them on to victory and to
glory. That idea being so firmly rooted in their minds, all our
Lord's predictions and allusions to death and a resurrection
glanced off their minds like hail from a penthouse, and left
positively no impression — no remembrance — no faintest hope
— no brightening doubt — that when His body should be laid
in the tomb, it should yet not be all over — all absolutely
ended.

Not otie of the disciples looked for His resurrection — neither
the hardy, faithful Peter, nor the loving John —not even Mary
of Magdala, who, being the type of love, purified and refined,
might have been supposed to have intuitively perceived more

' Come, see the Place zvJiere the Lord lay! 263

of the mysteries of the faith. But all these, though they had
heard Him repeatedly say, ' The Son of Man shall be delivered
into the hands of men ; and they shall kill Him, and the third
day He shall be raised again' (Matt. xvii. 22) — they neverthe-
less appear to have been, one and all, totally untouched in
their understandings. And though we read they were very
sorry, their sorrow does not appear to have made them any
more susceptible of the dread reality of His announcement,
which they had totally forgotten when the critical moment had
arrived.

This seems to us very unaccountable — but we must not
flatter ourselves that we should have been more appreciative
than were those to whom Christ spake in the flesh. To which
of us has not Christ spoken ? To which of us has He not
come? Has He not stood at the door, and knocked, and
which of us has opened unto Him ? The unbelief and hard-
ness of heart of the best of His disciples ought to teach us a
lesson of deep humility ; inasmuch as each one of us would
probably have been as bad, if not worse, under the same
circumstances, than were those, for the most part, good men
and women who were the companions of His earthly pil-
grimage.

But now the day has arrived, and the forebodings of the
Master are accomplished — the work of wicked men has been
fulfilled — they have crucified the Lord of Life — and those
whose active hate imagined that they had once for all settled
the question of the Christian faith, and the fate of the Chris-
tian's Prophet, had sealed up the tomb and set the watch, lest
haply (as they shrewdly suspected), ' the disciples should come
by night and steal Him away, and say unto the people. He is
risen from the dead.' Y ox these vaoxv evidently remembered the
prophecies of our Lord concerning Himself, which the disciples
themselves had forgotten — or at least had so entirely mistrusted
as to regard them as of none effect.

So they went and made the sepulchre secure, sealing the
stone and setting a watch. But what avails the seal and the

264 Neiu Studies in Christian Theology.

watch — the puny efforts of wicked men to hold the Lord of
Life in bondage to death ! The watchers trembled and
became as dead men, when the angel of the Lord descended
from heaven, and came and rolled back the stone from the
door, and sat upon it. They, unbelievers as they were, could
not endure the terrible aspect of the angel of the Lord, whose
countenance was like lightning, and his raiment white as snow.
For their own guilt conjured up their deadly fear, and their own
violence exhibited to them the terrors of their conscience re-
flected in the angelic visage of Him who came as God's mes-
senger, to frustrate the designs and machinations of the enemies
of Christ.

What wondrous change was then effected we know not.
Another stage in the glorification of the God-Man had been
effected. The bruised and wounded body had disappeared —
had become a glorious body — all the earthly elements derived
from His human mother, all the material accretions of His
earthly growth, were then dissipated ; and the Divinely-
begotten Man only survived the purification effected in the
tomb. The risen body, unlike that laid in the sepulchre, could
no longer be seen by ordinary mortal eyes, but only by the
specially opened spiritual eyes of those purposely so favoured.
Nor was the risen body recognisable even by those who had
been most familiar with Him before death. Divine Truth,
embodied in a human, imperishable form, only awaited final
conjunction with Divine Goodness at the Ascension, to com-
plete the grand work of glorification ; and a gracious interval
was thus afforded in order that the risen Redeemer might yet
have an opportunity of visiting His disciples, and confirming
their minds in those mysteries which their weak faith did not
permit them to appreciate or comprehend, until they had been
strengthened and fortified by the Divine and personal influence
of Christ.

But the loving despairing women were early at the sepulchre
which buried all their hopes. They had no expectation of
anything unusual, but simply went, weeping, as we should go

' Come, see the Place ivJiere the Lord lay! 265

to visit the tomb of a lately lost and dearly loved friend. The
account, by St. Luke, of what passed on that momentous occa-
sion is more fully detailed. ' They entered in, and found not
the body of Jesus ;' for that body was not to remain a denizen
of the tomb. ' Thou shalt not suffer Thy Holy One to see cor-
ruption.' But, instead thereof, were two men in shining gar-
ments, who addressed them gently and kindly. To the women
their countenances were not as lightning — they fell not to the
ground, as dead, at the sight of those heavenly visitants who
addressed them as friends, saying, ' Fear not ye: for I know
that ye seek Jesus, who was crucified. Why seek ye the living
among the dead ? He is not here : for He is risen, as He said.
Remember how He spake unto you while He was yet in
Galilee. TJien remembered they His words.'

'■He is risen I' Three words — of what mighty importance.
Once only before were three words uttered of equal importance,
when the angels announced, ' Christ is bom. And the two
events thus briefly chronicled were supplementary the one to
the other — the beginning and the end— the Alpha and the
Omega of that scheme of Redemption, which in the far-seeing
Providence of God had for ages been foreseen. For it behoved
Him to be in all things like unto His brethren — and, indeed,
as He became like unto them in His birth into the world, so
may they become like unto Him in their resurrection from the
dead. For in Him are all made alive.

' He is risen, as He said ' — His ow^n resurrection was fulfilled
according to His own prediction — and how could it be other-
wise ? He could lay down His life, and He could take it up
again. And His prophecy concerning His own resurrection is
an earnest of the truth of His promise concerning the resurrec-
tion of all those who put their trust in Him. For He has
said, ' I am the resurrection and the life : he that believeth in
Me, though he were dead, yet shall he live : and whosoever
liveth and believeth in Me shall never die.' And thus, in His
resurrection we are partakers, and in that He is risen are we
assured that in like manner we shall rise from death, and live

266 Neiv Studies in Christian Theology.

again for ever — the new — the perfect — and the glorious life,
which is Heaven.

But before our Lord rose from the dead, He suffered many
things. To have descended from His glory, and to have
taken upon Him the nature of His creatures, weak and im-
perfect as He knew them to be, must have been a wonderful
act of condescension on His part ; an act, that is, of self-
negation, of self-devotion, of self-sacrifice. None knew better
than He, to how great an extent ; none better than He knew
all it implied, all its bitter consequences to Himself; none so
well as He knew all the vast important interests it entailed
upon those for whose benefit it was to be performed. The
pains and difficulties, the penalties and sacrifices, were willingly
undertaken in view of the advantages which would accrue to
fallen man — and thus God sacrificed Himself for us, in the
literal sense of the term. And having undertaken the cure of
man's sin, and the restoration of His race to a position of
security and happiness — no risk was too great or too appalling
for Him who is love itself ' For herein is love — not that we
loved Him, but that He loved us, and gave Himself for us.'
And, in effect, the whole of Christ's life on earth was one
continued struggle with temptation, which was the stronger
and the more fiery in proportion as His nature was the more
holy and the more spotless than ours. No mere tnan can ever
appreciate the sufferings of the Divine man. No mere 7nan
can ever realize the depths into which the soul of our Lord
voluntarily descended to aid His fallen creatures — or the
tenacity of purpose, the strength of will, which upheld Him
in His battle with the powers of darkness for the salvation of
the human race. We are generally content with platitudes
and truisms in our estimate of the Divine work, and do not
trouble ourselves to probe into the fathomless ocean of the
Divine love, which alone could have carried Him through His
self-appointed task. But although the finite cannot estimate
the infinite, nevertheless we can, if we will, discover that it is
fathomless, and become ourselves lost in wonder, in gratitude.

' Come, sec the Place zv/iere the Lord lay' 267

and in love for the boon which comes to us with the blessed
words, ' The Lord is risen indeed.'

And the inquiry will undoubtedly elicit the great central
fact that our Lord could never have given salvation to mankind
without undergoing much unwonted distress, perplexity and
suffering. Not lapped in luxury, like the kings of earth, but
cradled in a manger, and not having where to lay His head —
He renounced all the good which this world afforded, in order
to hold to it by as light an attachment as possible, and to
show that all its glitter and pomp is a mere vain shadow, not
worthy to be counted, in comparison of the glory which shall
follow, any more than its duration is worthy to be esteemed
in comparison with the eternal life hereafter.

It was, then, by suffering that He accomplished that great
object of His earthly existence. His glorification. It was by
endurance that He consummated His end — the end that was
a necessity, not only for the fulfilment of the task He had set
Himself, but the necessary grand result accruing therefrom —
the salvation of man. If He had faltered, man would have
been lost ; but His steadfastness in the face of overwhelming
difficulties and crushing agonies, was the healing of the
nations ; without His cross He would not have won His crown ;
nothing short of endurance to the end could have perfected
the work — and we have but a dim perception of the incalcu-
able results which we derive from His unfailing determination,
His unswerving, unabating, unshrinking constancy.

But if we are to be partakers of His resurrection, we must
in all things follow His example, and none the less in this
particular, that we be constant, patient, enduring to the end.
If we suffer, we shall also reign with Him. We also must
take up our cross and follow Him. We also must learn that
having put our hand to the plough there is no looking back.
The benefits and privileges of membership with Him are not
to be purchased by an indolent acquiescence in His commands
— a mere theoretical belief in His precepts — or a simple and
careless lip-service, while the heart is afar off and untouched.

268 Nezv Studies in Christian Theology.

* He is not here : for He is risen, as he said. Come, see
the place where the Lord lay.' He is not here in the tomb —
no longer is He in the place of humiliation and death — all
that has passed away, and instead thereof He is at the right
hand of the Majesty on High. He is not here — no longer is
He i7i the world, as <?/ it ; but if we seek Him, we must seek
Him in the spiritual way He has appointed, and by the means
which alone lead to that glorious kingdom where He ever
liveth to make intercession for us. ' Come, see the place where
the Lord lay ;' look into His Word, read and meditate upon
His sufferings endured, His temptations overcome. His death
finished, His redemption perfected : all that is over — He is not
here — He is not as He once lay, in humiliation and in self-
abasement ; but He is riseji, as he said — risen to life, risen to
power, risen to reap the fruit in our hearts, of all that He
has borne of sorrow and of grief, of weakness and of pain.

And has He risen in vain ? We may question our own hearts,
and discover whether His rising has marked an era in our own
regeneration. For if He has risen in our hearts, then has His
resurrection become our life ; and our souls are ever picturing,
as it were, His resurrection in our new birth. For to us He
should be ever rising, as our hearts should ever be surmounting
the slough of sin and wickedness in which we are by nature
immersed, and as the guiding stars of good and truth rise
higher above our spiritual horizon, to cast their Divine beams
across the upward pathway of our aspiring souls. Happy for
us if it is so — and happy for every one who can thus say from
his inmost heart, *The Lord is risen indeed.'

LECTURE XXXI.

THE UNBELIEF OF THOMAS.

' Then said He to Thomas, Reach hither thy finger, and behold My
hands ; and reach hither thy hand, and thrust it into My side : and be not
faithless, but believing. And Thomas answered and said unto Him, My
Lord and my God.'— John xx. 27, 28.

How great must have been the surprise and disappointment of
the disciples, when they saw the meshes of hatred and maUce
closing around their Lord — when they saw Him seized, and
carried off by rough Roman soldiers to the Judgment-hall —
when they saw Him passed over from the unprincipled Pilate
to the unscrupulous Herod ; and how great their despair when
they found He was really condemned to die the death of a
felon, upon the cross of ignominy and disgrace ; their utter
helplessness, when they saw this fate consummated, and the
lifeless body of their dear Master taken down from the cross
and laid in the tomb ! Then it was all over ! It had come to
this ! ' We trusted that it had been He which should have
redeemed Israel ;' but alas ! He is no more. He, like other
men, is dead ! and before His time ; no long life of usefulness
and of ever-increasing influence and power — culminating in
triumph over His enemies — and kingly glory and dominion ;
but, instead thereof, a brief and troublous career, ending in
premature and disgraceful death ; His enemies have triumphed
over Him, and Israel is not redeemed !

Such must have been the feelings and thoughts of the dis-
ciples on that dreary and utterly dark day which succeeded
the Saviour's consummation of His work on earth, when He
bowed His head and said, ' It is finished.' For although the

270 Nezv Studies in Christian Theology.

disciples had been called by the Lord Himself, and had
received from Him a measure of faith and love — although they
had accompanied Him in all His ministrations — had seen all
His wondrous works — had heard all His teachings — had been
instructed in the hidden meanings of His parables — and had
received from His own mouth special prophetic intimations
of His ultimate fate ; yet, in spite of all this, they clung
tenaciously to the preconceived views they had always enter-
tained with regard to His mission. For the disciples were,
after all, Jews, and the Jews had interpreted the prophecies in
their own way, and according to their own external nature, and
they looked for a Messiah who would restore them to material
prosperity, and bring back the glory of David and Solomon
once more to Mount Zion.

In vain did He ' show to His disciples how that He must
go to Jerusalem, and suffer many things of the elders and
chief priests and Scribes, and be killed, and be raised again
the third day' (Matt. xvi. 21). Such plain statements as these
seemed to have no effect upon their belief — even this did not
penetrate through the thick coat of prejudice and obstinacy
which covered them, nor did it move them one iota from the
belief to which they were naturally inclined.

This strange obstinacy of the disciples illustrate forcibly the
condition of the Jewish nation at the time of the appearance
of Christ. If these men, who had been specially called to be
disciples by the Lord Himself, never swerved from their pre-
vious convictions of the temporal mission of the Messiah — in a
word, never lost their own personal and ingrained prejudices
respecting Him, which they shared with the rest of their
nation — what wonder, then, that the rest of the Jews were
utterly unbelieving, utterly blind !

The wonder indeed is, that, considering the state of the
world at the time of His coming in the flesh — considering how
entirely His kingdom was a spiritual and not a temporal king-
dom— that He found so many to hear Him, so many to
receive His doctrines, and to leaven the world with that truth

TJic Unbelief of TJiojiias. 271

which He came to promulgate. Had it not been, indeed, for
His foreseeing mercy, in sending one who should prepare the
way before Him, to preach repentance, and the near approach
of the Kingdom of God, no soul would have been willing to
receive Him ; the Son of Man must have come in vain, and
mankind, instead of goodwill and peace, must have drawn
upon themselves an awful and an irremediable curse.

But when at last the blow fell, and what seemed a hopeless,
cureless death, had ended all the golden hopes of the disciples,
wonder, surprise, incredulity, and bitter disappointment seized
them. He was dead, like any other man \ — and to rise from the
dead stood not within the compass of their hopes, expectation,
or belief. True, they had heard Him say that He would rise
again the third day, but the cheering intimation had taken no
hold upon their minds, found no place of faith in which it
could lie and germinate, left no tangible impression upon their
hearts ; so that when the glorious fact was accomplished, and
they were assured by angels that it was so, ' their words seemed
to them as idle tales, and they believed them not ' (Luke xxiv.
II).

It must be patent to anyone who reads the Gospel with
ordinary care, that the intercourse of our Lord with His dis-
ciples after His resurrection was of a totally different kind
from His ordinary intercourse with them before His cruci-
fixion. Of course, to any reflecting mind, this would not be
by any means surprising ; and on consideration, it could hardly
be expected by anyone that His death (precisely identical in
its nature with that death to which we are all subject) could
make no difference in His physical condition, any more than
such an idea could be predicated of any one of us. When
Christ died, His relations to the natural world must necessarily
have been changed, just as the relations of any one of us must
necessarily be changed by the article of death. Our spirits
then leave our bodies, which return to the elements ; while our
souls, clad in a substantial spiritual body, become denizens of
another sphere. The change with us has been the casting off

272 New Studies in Christian Theology.

of the outer husk, and the emancipation of the spirit, so that it
no longer occupies a place in the natural world.

But our blessed Lord, after He had bowed His head upon
the cross, and was laid in the tomb, was seen alive by many of
His disciples, and on various occasions. He ate and drank
\vith them — He showed them His hands, and His feet, and
His side — He talked with them, — and He finally ascended up
to heaven in their presence. An inattentive reader might
gather from a hasty perusal of these extraordinary narratives,
that He acted in all these things after His resurrection as He
did before it — that death to Him had made no difference. But
far otherwise will it be with one who attentively peruses the
sacred narrative — who brings a careful and intelligent study to
bear upon the heavenly mysteries.

In fact those who look upon the manifestations of our
Saviour after His resurrection as similar in their character to
the ordinary intercourse He held with His disciples before His
death, can only do so by bringing their natural mind to the
consideration of spiritual things — by measuring spiritual things
with a natural and earthly standard ; and error and confusion
are the inevitable result. No one for a moment doubts that
our Saviour rtally died — that His death was even more com-
plete and perfect than the death of Lazarus. In Acts ii.,
the Apostle Peter, commenting upon Psalm xvi, 8, says, 'For
David speaketh concerning Him, Because Thou wilt not leave
my soul in hell ' (or hades), — implying that with the complete
death of His body, His soul descended into the world of spirits.
Not so was it with the widow's son or the ruler's daughter —
not so was it with Lazarus ; they had not seen the secrets of
the prison-house — they were recalled to life ere the silver cord
was totally loosed — they returned to life and the things of
earth in all respects as they were before. Their restored
bodies inhf^rited mortality; in them death was only temporarily
delayed, not conquered. But it was otherwise with our Lord.

When the first loving visitors, very early in the morning,
upon the first day of the week, came to the sepulchre, ' they

The Unbelief of Thomas. 27 3

entered in and found not the body of Jesus : and the shining
ones who were there said unto them, ' Why seek ye the living
among the dead ? He is not here, but is risen.' His body
was not there. 'Come, see the place where the Lord lay.^
Not only was His spirit risen, as will be the case with every
one of us, but His body was no longer there — for why ? ' Thou
wilt not suffer Thine Holy One to see corruption !' David is
both dead and buried, and his sepulchre is with us to this day ;
he, being but man, like all other men saw corruption — but it
was not meet that the Holy One should see corruption. He,
the Divine, who had condescended to take upon Him a
human body, born of flesh, rested not until He had made that
body Divine also, and by submitting to temptation, by over-
coming sin, by dying for us on the cross, He, by all the stages
of His tempted, suffering, and blameless life, perfected the
Human in Him, so that it became one with the Divine ; and
in His glorified Divine-Human body, He arose from the dead,
and ascended up where He was before.

How this glorification took place we know not. We saw
the wounded and mangled body of the Saviour, buffeted,
scourged. His brow torn with sharp thorns, His hands and His
feet rudely pierced with iron nails, and His side gashed with a
soldier's spear ; we see this mutilated, and probably emaciated,
body laid lovingly in the tomb, and on the third day we see it
rise a glorified body — perfect, Divine ! What wondrous mys-
tery was then consummated, when, as St. Matthew tells us,
' Behold, there was a great earthquake : for the angel of the Lord
descended from heaven, and came and rolled back the stone
from the door, and sat upon it. His countenance was like
lightning, and his raiment white as snow. And for fear of him
the keepers did shake, and became as dead men ' (xxviii. 2-4).
Then was a mighty and a Divine work accomplished, incompre-
hensible in its nature to man, but of which he reaps the eternal
benefit ; and from that moment God was united with man by a
blessed bond — indissoluble, eternal, and Divine.

And the angel of the Lord, whose aspect was so terrible to the

18

274 New Studies m Christian TJieology.

unbelieving keepers, was gentle to the loving inquirers who
came to weep over their Lord, and said unto them, ' Fear not
ye : for I know that ye seek Jesus, which was crucified. He is
not here : for He is risen, as he said. Come, see the place
where the Lord lay ' (Matt, xxviii. 5, 6).

We see, then, that the body in which our Lord arose from
the dead, was not like the resurrection body of the human race
in general. His earthly body saw no corruption, as will ours ;
for, though born of a human mother. His paternity was
Divine. Nor was the body with which He ascended the same
as that which was laid in the tomb — but it underwent a glorious
and mysterious change ; that which was natural in it, became
spiritual — that which was weak in it, became the perfection of
strength — that which was uncomely in it, became the beauty of
holiness — that which was human in it, became celestial and
Divine.

But the disciples still withheld their belief. They required a
great deal more evidence than that which was afforded by the
women who related that they had seen a vision of angels, which
said that He was alive ! ' Idle tales ! Did we not see Him
nailed on the cross ? Did we not see Him (from afnr off, it is
true) bow His head upon His breast, and give up the ghost?
Did we not see blood and water gush out when the soldiers
pierced His side? And did we not wind Him in linen clothes,
with spices, and lay Him in the new tomb of Joseph of
Arimathea, upon the mouth of which a great stone was laid?
Was not the stone sealed, and the watch set ? And how tell
you us that He is risen, and that He is still alive ?'

Such was probably the excited questioning and debate they
held one with another, when they heard the story toid by the
women. O ye of little faith ! They believed not Moses and
the Prophets — they believed not tlie Lord Himself. Neither
could they believe, without irrefragable proof, though He rose
from the dead !

In considering our Lord's various manifestations of Himself
to the disciples and brethren after His resurrection, we must

The Unbelief of Thomas. 275

entirely divest our minds of the idea of natural appearances.
The risen Saviour was no longer a denizen of this sphere ; He
was no longer a mortal man, as before. He had ceased to walk
among men. He had ceased to be seen of all, as hitherto.
He had been dead, and, though He was risen again, it was not
to the life of earth ; with that He had finally ended. ' It is
finished !' He had exclaimed, with His last breath — and that
expression might be with truth applied to His earthly course.
That was never to be resumed. He had descended into Hades
— it now only remained for Him to ascend up into Heaven.
But before this final resumption of eternal and omnipotent
power. He vouchsafed to hold spiritual communion with His
unbelieving disciples, to cure their otherwise unconquerable
doubts, to convince His incredulous followers that He had
truly risen from the dead — and to give them ocular demonstra-
tion of His ascension into heaven. Without this the world
would never have believed — and, in pity for us. He conde-
scended to unlock their surd understandings, and to open
their spiritual sight. And lo, their eyes were opened, and they
saw Him — by the spirit, and according to the laws of spirit.

To the general multitude, therefore, who had been wont to
press upon our Lord, to hear His teaching, and to bring their
sick to be healed of Him — He was as one dead. Never more
would they see the good Physician carrying the blessings of
sight and hearing, and of cure from all manner of diseases—
never more would they hear from Him words of wisdom and
life, which had made some of them say, ' Never man spake
like this man.' All this was over for them. They had denied
the Holy One, and the Just — and had killed the Prince of
Life ; and His bodily presence would never more bless their
sight. But for those whom He would still make the depositories
of His Holy Truth, there was yet a way of communication
open to Him, even before He ascended to His Father — and
this way was, to open their spiritual sight, so that He could be
seen of them — but accordiiv^ to their varied capacities of spiritual
perception.

18—2

2/6 Neiv Studies in Christian Theology.

But in every instance in which He is recorded as having
been seen, after His resurrection, the occurrence was one
which was out of the range of the natural world, and must be
referred entirely to the spiritual world. Our Saviour was no
longer in a material body — He was a Spirit ; He could no
longer be seen by the natural mortal eye — but only by the
spiritual eye, which must be opened to perceive Him. Nor is
this circumstance by any means an unprecedented one in
Scripture. The spiritual sight must always have been opened
to perceive spiritual things — and he who saw the burning bush
on Horeb — he who saw the angel of the Lord sitting under an
oak in Ophrah — he who saw, and behold the mountain was full
of horses and chariots of fire round about Elisha — these, and
numberless others, saw these things with the eyes of the spirit ;
in each case there was a special opening of the eyes to perceive
what was otherwise hidden. In the last instance, the young
man perceived not the wonderful sight before Elisha had said,
'Lord, I pray Thee, open his eyes that he may see' (2 Kings
vi. 17). And the Lord opened the eyes of the young man, and
he saw.

Similarly, when Mary stood without at the sepulchre, weeping
— and, on looking in, she seeth two angels in white, sitting, one
at the head, and the other at the feet, where the body of Jesus
had lain, her spiritual sight must have been opened to perceive
what would otherwise not have been perceptible to the gross
natural vision. And so also all those wonderful events, of
which this supernatural sight was the harbinger and con-
comitant, were alike of a spiritual and supernatural character.

Every apparition of our Lord, after His resurrection, was of
this kind, and was accompanied by circumstances of a remark-
able and striking character, which prove incontestably (if
proof were necessary) that these post-resurrectionary scenes
were events which belonged to the spiritual world ; they were,
in fact, spiritual scenes, which, for wise purposes, the disciples
were permitted to share in, and to behold in virtue of a special
illumination.

TJie Unbelief of Thomas. 277

But, in the spiritual world, neither time nor place rule, as
here — in that world, state is what governs all circumstances
and transactions — state is what is reflected in all appearances
and surroundings. A certain spiritual state is necessary to the
reception of spiritual truth — and the degree of spiritual light
received is regulated by the spiritual state, and by the perfec-
tion or imperfection of the various qualities which make up
that state. For spirit is not, like matter, hard and inflexible,
retaining the same form from day to day, from month to month,
from year to year ; but spirit is something ever changing,
mobile, and plastic, which accommodates itself to all the pro-
gressive stages of spiritual and celestial perfection, and is
therefore representative and reflective, and ever in unison with
our existing state ; far more adaptive, therefore — far more per-
fect— than hard, unyielding matter.

It is worthy of remark that the women, representative of the
aff"ections and will, were the first to arrive at the sepulchre;
and the first person to whom our Lord made Himself known
was Mary Magdalene, the type of Love — love, purified and
refined. At early dawn she was there, loving, but hopeless.
She knew her Saviour as the human personification of Love,
but she knew Him not as He had now become. Timidly
gazing at the sepulchre, she sees the stone rolled away and the
vault empty ; and carrying the news to the disciples, they
hasten to see what it can mean. Then did that other disciple
outrun Peter — and thus was Love again first at the sepulchre,
having outstripped Faith in the race ; and the disciple whom
Jesus loved^ stood, where just before had stood the repentant
and forgiven woman. Love first, and then faith, arrived at the
sepulchre.

Not, like Lazarus, had the Lord risen, as He lay down,
bound hand and foot with graveclothes, and His head bound
about with a napkin ; but the linen clothes, cast off with the
material body, lay thrown aside, removed by no mortal hands
— and left behind, unneeded by the resurrection body. But
none, as yet, understood the signification of what they saw —

zyS Neiv Studies in Christian Theology.

but believing that, with His body, their last ray of hope had
departed, they went to their own homes. Only Mary stood
without, at the sepulchre, weeping. And as she wept, her
spiritual sight was opened, and she saw two shining ones, who
asked her why she wept ; and as she replied, ' Because they
have taken away my Lord, and I know not where they have
laid Him,' Jesus Himself stood before her. Her soul, in its
inmost affection, was turned towards her I-ord, and then she
turned herself to His presence. But she knew Him not — not
though every feature was stamped indelibly on her heart — for
now He appeals, not to her mortal eyes, but to her spiritual
state.

She knew Him not as her risen Redeemer ; she had not yet
realized Him as the Resurrection and the Life; and so she
knew Him not. But when He addressed her by her name,
' IMary,' as one who knew her inmost heart, her spiritual recog-
nition was awakened, and she turned herself to Him and said,
' Rabboni, Master !'

Here again we have an illustration of the principle that
spiritual sight and action are related to state. When Mary
would have fallen at His feet and kissed them, He said,
'Touch Me not, for I am not yet ascended to My Father.'
But why not touch Him ? Why was the loving Mary forbidden
to touch Him, while the incredulous Thomas, who had said,
' Except I shall see in His hands the print of the nails, and put
my finger into the print of the nails, and thrust my hand into
His side, I will not believe ' — was invited to handle Him to his
heart's content and his unbelief's satisfaction ? The answer is.
Because she was the loving Mary, and because he 7uas the
incredulous Thomas. To each did our Lord appear according
to their state. Not until His ascension to His Father, was the
Divine Truth, perfected by the resurrection, fully united with
the Divine Good, perfected at the ascension. It was His Love
that Mary loved. She was one who, in her intense love to the
Lord, had reached the celestial state of regeneration, and for
whom conjunction with the Lord required that He should not

TJic Unbelief of Thovias. 279

only be Divine Truth, but also Divine Love. Until He had
ascended to His Father, she could not obtain conjunction with
the Father, who is Love, but only with the Master, who is
Truth. Mary saw no prints of nails in His hands and in His
feet — she saw no wound in His side — she was far above that,
as her faith and her love exceeded the faith and the love of
Thomas.

Nor were the other disciples (for the most part), less exacting
than Thomas, in their demands for tangible proofs of our
blessed Lord's identity. For we read that again He afforded
proof of the non-materiality of His resurrection body, by
appearing in the midst of them when the doors were shut, just
as, on a subsequent occasion. He vanished out of their sight,
after breaking bread — or as it is in the margin. He ' ceased to
be seen of them ' — i.e., when their spiritual sight was once more
closed. On the occasion first alluded to. He saluted them,
saying * Peace be with you ;' and when He had so said, He
showed them His hands and His side. The disciples, we are
told, just before, as yet knew not the Scripture, that He must
rise from the dead ; and as this happened on the evening of
the resurrection day, they had hardly had time to digest the
wonderful story already told them by Mary Magdalene — •
they were still in the darkness of ignorance ; and although we
are not told that they demanded such ocular demonstration,
our Lord accommodated Himself to their benighted condition,
and showed them His hands and His side — indicated to them
in a more or less pointed manner, according to their various
states of doubt and belief, these marks by which their faith
might be strengthened.

It was probably rather a symbolical action, indicative of the
resurrection of the crucified One, than a tangible testimony,
made necessary by unbelief. They did not demand to feel
the hands and feet, or to thrust their hands into His side ; but
all were satisfied, and all were rejoiced. ' Then were the
disciples glad when they saw the Lord.' The night of mourn-
ing was ended, and the dawn of rejoicing had appeared.

28o New Studies i)i Christiaji Theology.

But the arch-doubter, Thomas, was not with them when
Jesus came. His mental constitution was pecuUar; and
although he was not absolutely an unbeliever, he required
more tangible proof than any of the others. None of the
disciples looked for His rising — none believed at first — not even
the loving Mary ; and it was only by degrees that they were
persuaded — some easily — others with more difficulty : and His
manifestation to them was made successively, according to their
states. To Mary, first — then, to the two disciples going to
Emmaus — next, to all of them {except Thomas) as they were
assembled with closed doors — and lastly, to Thomas also.
Thomas would be convinced if he had sufficient sensible
evidence — even of the most external kind ; he must touch, feel,
and handle, or he could not believe. Others had been satisfied
with seeing, but Thomas must feel. He was a degree behind
the rest, but only a degree. It was eight days that he remained
in this doubting state, unmoved by the testimony of all his
brethren, and firmly determined to resist all conviction, until
his own tests were applied.

At length Christ gave him his opportunity. Once more he
appeared to them, when the doors were shut, and once more
he saluted them with ' Peace be with you.' And Thomas was
also with them. We do not read that he still challenged
his proofs. Awed, doubtless, by his Lord's appearance, he
would scarcely have ventured to do so, in such a presence.
But his Master knew his thoughts — He knew the low degree of
faith which was in His disciple, and he graciously accom-
modated himself to his state. Then said He to Thomas,
' Reach hither thy finger, and behold My hands ; and reach
hither thy hand, and thrust it into My side, and be not faithless,
but believing !' We know not if Thomas accepted our Lord's
invitation, or whether this appeal touched his heart and
awakened his faith ; but the effect was immediate and complete,
and Thomas, moved in his inmost soul, exclaimed, ' My Lord
and my God !' To him, up to this time, our blessed Lord had
only been the crucified man — in his mind he still regarded Him

TJie Unbelief of Thomas. 281

as bearing in His body the spear-wound, and in His hands, the
print of the nails. As he demanded to see Him — he saiu Him
— it was the highest his state could arrive at ; but when he had
seen Him, his faith received an impulse, and he heartily — and
perhaps penitently — acknowledged Him both Lord and God.

Jesus saith unto him, ' Thomas, because thou hast seen Me,
thou hast believed : blessed are they that have not seen, and
yet have believed.' For true faith is the evidence of things
not seen ; the faith by which Abraham and Isaac and Jacob
inherited the promises. We cannot see His hands and His
side, but we may feel His truth in our hearts. We may read
His words of justice and of peace — of mercy and of unselfish-
ness— of wisdom and of love ; and we may, by them, elevate
our hearts to the acknowledgment of His Divine goodness and
truth, and of our own dependence upon Him, and our need of
His Holy Spirit ; and we, who have not seen Him, believe.

And if we thus believe, we may follow His example in our
lives — we may aspire to be like-minded with Him — and to
be perfect, even as He is perfect ; and we shall succeed, in
proportion to our faith and our trust in Him. But it will
not be by regarding His hands and His feet — His bleeding
body, or His limbs drooping in death : it will be by the
acknowledgment of Him, at the right hand of power — able
and willing to succour the tempted, and to save to the utter-
most all who come unto God through Him ; it will be by
knowing Him as our Lord and our God, whose sons we may
be, if we suffer ourselves to be led by His Spirit ; it will be by
feeling in our inmost heart that He is our Father, and that we
are His children ; and if children then heirs — heirs, according
to the hope of eternal life which we have in Him.

LECTURE XXXII.

'LO, I AM WITH YOU ALWAY.'

' And lo, I am with you alway even unto the end of the world.' —
Matt, xxviii. 20.

When our Lord had established in the minds of His disciples
the fact of His resurrection from the dead, it was not unlikely
that there was a revulsion of feeling, which led them to
estimate much more justly the precise character of the man
who had been their companion and friend, no less than their
teacher and mentor, during the past few years. They were
then enabled to bring back to their recollection all that He
had said concerning Himself and His earthly destinies — and
not only to bring it back to their remembrance, but to form
some degree of just appreciation of the bearing of these pro-
phetic declarations upon their own part in those destinies.
They doubtless began, at last, to perceive how greatly they
had mistaken Him and His mission, and the glamour of a
preconceived mundane splendour, and material sceptre, began
to fade before the true perception of His spiritual authority
and Divine kingship ; so that they, for the first time, really
believed on Him with a saving faith, and a real and firm trust.
Had He never risen, or rather, had He never appeared to
them after His resurrection, this change in their feelings could
never have taken place ; and that germ of faith which was to
spread like the branches of a great tree, under which the
Christian Church might rest, would never have been realized ;
and without miraculous interposition (as in the case of St. Paul),
the little band of followers would probably have been scattered

' Lo, I avi zvitJi Vo?( Akvay.' 285

to the wind, with no bond of future unity, which could render
them of any avail as missionaries of the religion of Christ.

But the extraordinary and unparalleled events of the Sabbath
succeeding the Crucifixion, as well as those which appear to
have followed at intervals before the final Ascension upon the
Mount of Olives, so strongly influenced the minds of those
who shared in those spiritual scenes, that henceforth they were
new men ; no longer walking in the darkness of unbelief, or
groping, like blind men, in a maze of doubt and obscurity ;
but enfranchised and enlightened with something like a
measure of the spiritual insight promised by the advent of the
Comforter. The tangled skein became suddenly unravelled —
the hitherto missed clue was discovered — and they were now
able to piece together the hitherto unmeaning and incompre-
hensible phases of our Lord's history, and present to their
minds a connected and a sober view of their relation to one
another, and to that consummation which had just been
achieved, no less than to their bearing upon their own interest
in the Life and Death of the Lord. For when our Lord said,,
as in the concluding verses of this Gospel, ' Go ye therefore,
and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the
Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost ; teaching
them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded
you,' it becomes evident that those who were thus commis-
sioned and set apart to teach the world, must have had a
suflScient comprehension of the truths they were thus called
upon to teach. And when He further uttered the memorable
words, ' And lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of
the world,' the disciples must have drunk in the words with
their understanding and their hearts, and in a far different
manner from that in which they had been wont to hear the
utterances of our Lord concerning Himself; utterances which,
until now, had found no responsive echo within their own
breasts, and could only be brought back to their remembrance
by the reminders of angels, after the most terrible events in
the history of the world had corroborated their truth.

284 Nciv Studies in Christian Theology.

But now they were in earnest ; for now they were assured
by incontestable evidence, that He who had risen from the
dead was really the Son of God, come to deliver from worse
than a Roman yoke ; and while they felt a new strength, and
an unwonted firmness in the support of His cause before all the
world, they also must have appreciated the difficulties which
lay before them, in an unresponsive and unsympathizing
people, who would not Hsten to the preaching of Him whom
they had crucified and slain.

The words, therefore, with which our Lord concludes His
charge to His disciples must have had a singularly cheering
effect upon their minds. For without them they would have
felt themselves to be upon a sea of doubt, and embarked upon
an impossible enterprise. The world, they knew, was not
prepared to accept the risen Saviour, nor, indeed, to believe in
His resurrection. The people who had slain the Redeemer,
had also pointed to their wicked power in prevailing over Him,
as positive proof of the insignificance of their victim ; and
such men would not easily be won over to look upom Him
whom they had pierced, and to regard Him as their Saviour
and their God. But with the disciples it was different. They,
indeed, did believe in His resurrection, and with that display
of Divine power, they understood that its Author was no mere
weak rnan, but one who had power over death ; and if so, one
who also had power over life — power over men's minds — and
could bend them to His pleasure. And for such an one to
depart, leaving with them the assurance, ' Lo, I am with
you alway, even to the end of the world,' was like a spiritual
tonic, nerving them to every endeavour, and bracing them
against every difficulty, supporting them in every struggle of
life, and tranquilizing them under every terror of death.

But the words in question were not solely intended for the
disciples who assembled round the risen Saviour on Olivet.
They are among the most cherished sayings which His dis-
ciples in all ages may appropriate to themselves, as truly as if
they had seen Him in the flesh. As our Lord said to Thomas,

' Lo, I atn tvith Yoti Ahvay! 285

' Because thou hast seen Me, thou hast believed : blessed are
they that have not seen, and yet have believed.' And we,
who have not seen our Lord with our bodily eyes, may none
the less look to Him with the spiritual sight, and remember
that He is not far from every one of us, that His presence
accompanies us always, and in proportion to our trust in Him ;
and that so long as we fail not in our faith in Him, He will
not fail to be with us alway, even to the end of the world.
Over and over again had He made the same promise ; to
Jacob at Bethel, in the dream, when he saw the ladder which
reached from earth to heaven ; unto Joshua, by the mouth of
Moses, before his death on Mount Nebo ; and again to him-
self, when he was appointed the leader of the hosts of Israel
in Moses' stead. David left the promise as a legacy to
Solomon ; and Solomon, at the dedication of the Temple,
appropriated it as an unfailing source of comfort and of trust.
Nor was the great Apostle unmindful of it, reminding the
Hebrews that God had said, ' I will never leave thee nor for-
sake thee.' So that we may boldly say, ' The Lord is my
helper ; I will not fear what man can do unto me.'

And if all these were so firmly persuaded that God was able
and willing to keep the promise which He had made to them,
what reason is there that the faith of these times should fail ?
On the other hand, we have to remember that, in these parting
words, our Lord ratified the promise of the Old Testament, in
which He spoke as the great Jehovah, who was leading His
people Israel in paths which they knew not. And the Jehovah
of the Old Testament is the same God as the Jesus of the
New Covenant, only He is more near to man, more ready to
feel for our infirmities, more near to aid us in trial, more
prompt to make intercession for us — inasmuch as He is a
High Priest that is passed into the heavens, a High Priest who
was in all points tempted Hke as we are, yet without sin.

If the presence of the Lord with us was always equally
apparent, there would not, perhaps, be the need of that con-
tinued exercise of faith which we know to be the case in the

286 New Studies in Christian Theology.

experience of each one of us. But that presence, although it
is constant and continual, is not always felt, and we are all too
ready to imagine that it is withdrawn. We ourselves seek to
separate ourselves from God, and then complain that He is
not with us. But although His presence is really with us in
proportion as we are seeking to do that which He enjoins, He
never really withdraws Himself from any one of us. As long
as we find pleasure and delight in following in the steps marked
out for us by conscience and duty, we feel but little difficulty
in recognising the accompanying presence of the Divine in-
fluence. It comes to us as a strengthening and supporting
auxiliary, powerful in aiding and stimulating the desire we feel
to live according to the dictates of the Gospel ; and so long
as we possess it, we cannot fail to possess that internal delight
which attends the conscientious performance of the duties laid
upon us by the Divine law.

And so indeed, as is the universal experience of all who
endeavour to the best of their ability to walk in these footsteps,
it becomes abundantly evident, that such an endeavour carries
with it all that joy and peace of heart which is derived from the
accompanying presence of the Lord in the soul — a presence
which alone constitutes heaven. But that presence cannot
coincide with an opposite line of conduct. Not that God thus
withdraws Himself from us — such a withdrawal w^ould be fatal
to us. But we no longer feel Him within us — we are no longer
conscious of the pleasure, the peace, the happiness of content
which that presence brings, when it is in harmony with our
own inmost feelings. There is a discord felt — a contrariety — an
uneasiness — which leads us to the conclusion, and very justly,
that the presence of God does not lend us its countenance —
gives no stamp of approval to what we ourselves, in our inmost
hearts, also disapprove.

But the Psalmist well knew that the presence of the Lord
was always with us, even when we least desired it, inasmuch as
we were pursuing a course which we knew would not be
pleasing to Him. 'Whither shall I go from Thy spirit? or

^ Lo, I am ivitJi Yoii Alway.' 287

whither shall I flee from Thy presence?' he exclaims. 'If I
ascend up into heaven, Thou art there : if I make my bed in
hell, behold, thou art there ' (Psa. cxxxix. 7, 8). Thus, good or
evil, He is always with us ; strengthening and encouraging us
in our resolutions to follow the path of righteousness — or
wrestling and striving with us, to restore us to that path, if we
have diverged from it. When our first parents had committed
the sin which caused them to fall from their original purity and
holiness, and they heard the voice of the Lord God walking in
the garden in the cool of the day, Adam and his wife ///V/ them-
selves from the presence of the Lord among the trees of the
garden. But we do not find that they thus secured themselves
from the embarrassment of that presence, for the Lord God
called unto Adam, and said unto him, ' Where art thou ? Stand
forth, thou that seekest to hide thyself from Me.' Again, when
Moses, pleading for the people, spoke face to face with the
Lord as a man speaketh unto his friend, the Lord said to him,
' My presence shall go with thee, and I will give thee rest,' —
whereupon Moses replied, ' If Thy presence go ?iot with me,
carry us not up hence' (Exod. xxxiii. 14, 15); thus showing how
the wicked desire to be relieved from that, which is felt to
be essential to the well-being and happiness of those who
act righteously. ' For in Thy presence is fulness of joy '
(Psa. xvi. 11).

As long as our Lord was upon the earth, He was present
with His disciples; but that presence was of a kind which while
it lasted was little appreciated, or at least far below its real value.
We look upon those friends who walk beside us in the world,
as though they would ever be by our side, and shrink from
realizing a time when one of us must walk alone. But we well
know that such a time roust come. So also our Lord reminded
His disciples that He would not always be at their side. ' The
poor ye have always with you, but Me ye have not always,' He
said to them, referring evidently to His bodily presence. But
when that bodily presence was about really to be withdrawn,
He substituted something far more precious, namely. His

288 Nezu Studies in C/wistian Theology.

spiritual aid ; and it was just as He was leaving them, after
dwelling among them for so many years, that He gave them
this legacy, ' Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of
the world.' Without this assurance, the disciples might well
have been heart-broken, and spirit-broken, for if His bodily
presence had brought with it danger, and peril, and perplexity,
and difficulty — all these evils might be supposed to be increased
by the withdrawal of His wise counsel and encouraging example;
if indeed His memory wa?? to be kept alive, and His doctrines
preached among a people hostile alike to both. But the
assurance that He would be with them alway, was made to a
wiser people — a company of earnest disciples purged from their
gross conceptions by the fiery ordeal of trial and sorrow. They
no longer looked upon Him with ignorant eyes of merely Jewish
prejudice, but their eyes were opened that they should know
Him — know Him as the Messiah — the Holy One of Israel —
the Son of God — the Vanquisher of death — the Redeemer of
mankind. And to them, therefore, this assurance had a special
meaning, which none could deprive them of. No threats, no
torments, no persecution, no difficulties raised by the evil
machinations of their enemies, could ever overshadow the
great fact that He 7aas with them alway ; and this knowledge
bore them triumphantly through every hardship, and every
perplexity, and made them bold champions in the cause which
He had entrusted to them.

Neither the Church nor mankind could exist unless His
promise were true, that He would be with them alway.
Churches and dispensations come to an end — not because He
is no longer with them, but because they forsake Him ; and
He establishes a new dispensation, and a new church out of the
small remnants left by the old. But in an especial manner would
He be with the dispensation He had personally established ;
and with it He leaves also a personal promise, following immedi-
ately upon the declaration that ' All power is given unto Me in
heaven and in earth.' He had personally breathed the Holy
Spirit upon them, as an earnest of that great endowment which

' Lo, I am with You Alivay.' 289

was to follow His departure, and thus supply the loss of His
personal presence. The circumstances accompanying the
promise, the definiteness of the promise itself, and the un-
changeableness and proved steadfastness of Him who made the
promise, leave no place for doubt in the most timid of His
disciples — not only that His Church is and will continue to be
fostered by His unceasing presence and influence ; but that
everyone, even the humblest of His true followers, may no less
be sure of that support and encouragement in the hour of need,
implied in the general and particular assurance, ' Lo, I am with
you alway.' For we have here to do with no broken reed — no
merely crucified man, but with a risen Saviour — ' the Father of
lights, with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning*
(Heb. xiii. 8).

19

LECTURE XXXIII.

' WHAT THINK YE OF CHRIST ?'

* What think ye of Christ ?' — Matt. xxii. 42.

This is a question which is a source of no little controversy
amid that section of humanity which is the flower of the
civilized world, and which we term Christendom.

For to Christendom, at this era, belongs every nation which
leads the way in civilization, in arts, in science, in benevolence,
in justice. The Moslem barely survives, and only by the
tolerance of Christian nations — the Hindoo bears gratefully
the yoke of Christian rulers — and great heathen nations, who
are unable to comprehend the reason, although, perchance,
eaten up by ignorant vanity, are forced reluctantly, if tacitly, to
admit that there are superior intelligences in the West, with
whom they can cope in no respect, but in that of brute force.

And Christendom is the kingdom of Christ.

If this question were asked of different bodies of Christians,
how varied would be their responses ! There are some who
— although not Christians, it is true, yet belong to the Christian
world — like the Jews of old, still exclaim, with blinded under-
standings, ' He casteth out devils by Beelzebub, the prince of
the devils.' These men are busy propagandists of the destruc-
tion of faith — but of such it is unnecessary to say more.
Some, calling themselves by the name of Christ, would declare
that He was their great Teacher — their good Example — sent to
point out the way to heaven — sent to show man his capabilities
and powers — sent to give man the knowledge of what was in

' What think Ye of Christ?' 291

him, of the possibilities of his inner self, of the future destiny
of his immortal soul. But with all this they would discern in
Him no Divine character or essence. He is to them a ??ian —
simply a man, to whom the Divine Spirit has imparted so much
of its inspiration as to make Him a.potver — to fill Him with
the enthusiasm of humanity — so that His work on earth might
result in the improvement of mankind, and the elevation of the
human race. But, this work done, He, say they, reaps His
reward as the first of men, the Teacher sent by God, who has
faithfully fulfilled His mission — and no more.

But the majority would afiirm that Christ was undoubtedly a
Divine person. With the centurion of old they would exclaim,
' Truly this man was the Son of God.' They would maintain
from Scripture the fact, as beyond dispute, that Christ was not
a man like ourselves, but One who, in human form, was in
partnership with the Divine — that He had a share in the
Omnipotent rule of heaven — that He was one of Three,
morally equal, but practically unequal — that He was of a more
gracious nature than Jehovah — but at the same time subor-
dinate to the Supreme One, on whom He confesses His de-
pendence, and to whom He prays for succour and support.
' Jesus of Nazareth,' say these — the great body of His
followers at the present day — ' was a man, in whom was the
power of God dwelling. He was a man who derived what was
Divine in Him from God — in the same sense as we derive our
life from Him. He was the Son of God, standing to God in
the same relation as a son stands to a father, a relation of
humility, obedience, and dutifulness, as to one who in all
respects claimed superior authority and preeminent dominion
— but never destined, like the sons of men, to step, in the
fulness of time, into the vacated seat of that Father.'

Another body of Christians, a most extensive one, claims
their Founder as Divine, but yet gives His earthly mother a
first place. Not content with debarring Him from the succes-
sion of His Father, they represent Him as always a child in the
maternal arms, and they teach their votaries that the wishes of

19 — 2

292 New Studies in Christian Theology.

that mother are paramount with her Son, as though He were
for ever an infant, whose weakness, though Divine, could only
derive strength, as it derived subsistence, from the earthly
mother, whom His divinity alone had ennobled and crowned !

Such, in brief, are some of the inconsistencies, the errors,
the false and debasing views of Christ into which eighteen
centuries of so-called Christianity have plunged the leading
communities of mankind. Such are, in brief, the perverted
beliefs which have been foisted upon mankind by His teachers
who hold the Bible in their hands, and profess from the
source and fountain of truth to draw, not pure water, but
muddy streams of pernicious error — dishonouring to God and
Christ, and at the same time depriving themselves, and man-
kind in general, of the vast privileges, the incalculable benefits,
which Christ Himself contemplated, and which He came, in
suffering and sorrow, to bring to His people. Prejudice, pride
of intellect, love of power, and spiritual conceit, are the great
causes of the maze and web of superficial and specious perver-
sion which has befallen the clear precepts and the explicit
statements of the Holy Word, and have enshrouded in a mist
of fallacious obscurity that which, if permitted, would shine
brightly as the sun at noonday.

But WE have not so learned Christ. The Holy Scriptures
declare that they testify of Him, and the strange dishonouring
doctrines to which we have just alluded, do 7iot form part of
that testimony, are 7iot found in the Sacred Word, but are the
human perversions of truth accumulated by ignorance and
error, and supported by what has been in too many cases self-
interested priestcraft.

What then does the Bible really teach us about Jesus Christ?
for to the Bible must be our final appeal. Where, it may be
asked, in the Old Testament, do we hear aught of more than one
Divine Person ? If the Jews were anything, they were Mono-
theistic. In whatever else they may have been external, formal,
and lifeless, as to religious faith, they at least had the one virtue,
which kept them as a distinct people among the surrounding

• What think Ye of Christ 7 293

Idolatrous nations, of being worshippers of One God. With
them there was no question of a division either of essence, or
of fountain ; Jehovah was to them the One great God of heaven '
and of earth — a God who would not by any means give His
glory to another, but who, through His prophets, was continually
repeating to a perverse and stubborn generation the great
central fact, 'Hear, O Israel ! the Lord our God is one Lord '
(Deut. vi. 4). Not only ' Thou shalt have no other gods before
Me,' — which might be construed as admitting the bare possi-
bility of an inferior or subordinate Deity — but ' I, even I, am
He, and there is no God with Me'' (Deut. xxxii. 39). What can
be plainer than this ? What simplest intelligence is there that
cannot comprehend this uncompromising statement ? Here is
no ambiguity — no room for the shadow of doubt ; not only no
limit of a co-equal and co-eternal Son, but a distinct denial of
ANY share in the Divine Power or Essence.

Nor are these passages alone — they are reiterated again and
again in the Old Testament — they are the burden of the
prophet's voice, and they were tiecessary in order to counteract
the universal tendency to the worship of many gods by the
nations around.

Is, then, the Old Testament in contradiction to the New ?
Were they the work of different minds, and written by different
inspirations ? As well ask. Is there order in Nature ? Is the
Universe chaos ? It is impossible — and were it possible, the
testimony of the New is expressly corroborative of the Old,
'Think not that I am come,' says our Saviour (Matt. v. 17),
' to destroy the law or the prophets ; I am not come to destroy,
but to fulfil.' No; the New Testament is the corner-stone of
the Old ; the architecture is the same ; there is — there can be
— no contrariety or discrepancy between the two ; and what is
patent and clear in the one, must be also distinct and un-
doubted in the other. The Old Testament and the New are
equally the Word of God in the i?ispired books ; and the
difference which seems to us to distinguish them is but the
difference of the styles, which are adapted to the different con-

294 New Studies in Christian Theology.

ditions of mankind at the period when they were respectively
written. Mankind varies — God changes not ; and as mankind
changes, he approaches nearer, or separates himself further
from God ; and thus God's message must adapt itself to his
condition, or it would never reach his heart, and would miss
the end which God intended — and that it cannot do.

Our Lord Jesus Christ declares Himself in terms which
cannot be mistaken ; and only the insidious errors and falsities
which have by degrees crept into the church, have clouded the
clear and distinct enunciations which He has made concerning
Himself. These errors have been sometimes of the simplest
kind, and yet have borne a crop of falses which have changed
the face of Christendom. They have sometimes been probably
accidental, but the blind followers of authority, failing to go to
the Word itself for correction, have themselves in turn become
blind leaders of the blind, and have transformed the teaching,
and marred the character of Christ, so that in time He has
become no longer recognisable as the incarnate Word ; the
Saviour has been robbed of His glory, and those who should
have been saved by Him, have thrust Him away as a man of
like passions with themselves ; and thus, by an insidious word
here and there, great vital truths have been set aside, and
doctrines of vast importance have been made of none effect ;
shipwreck has been made of faith, and men have, in this age,
become guilty of the fearful blasphemy of preaching and writing
scornful diatribes against their Saviour and Redeemer, and foul
denials of their incarnate God.

It may be said, that it is true Jehovah declares Himself to
be One in the Old Testament ; but Jehovah was the Creator
of all things. How could He be also the Redeemer of the
New Covernant, or the Holy Spirit of the Apostolic Church ?
But He who was once One, could never be divided. A double
or a triple Omnipotence or Omniscience is a contradiction of
terms — an impossibility, and a logical absurdity. ' I will not
give My glory to another,' He has said (Isa. xlii. 8). And yet
that name by which we delight to remember the Lord Jesus

' What think Yc of Christ ?' 295

Christ, is one which Jehovah Himself claims as His own over
and over again in the Old Testament. ' I am the Lord thy
God, the Holy One of Israel, thy Saviour .... Thus saith
the Lord, your Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel ' (Isa. xliii.
3-14). 'There is no God else beside Me: a just God and
a Saviour ; there is none beside Me ' (Isa. xlv. 21). What can
be more clear and unmistakable than this? He is God alone;
He also is the Saviour and the Redeemer; 'Thus saith the
Lord, thy Redeemer ' (Isa. xliv. 24). For He who thus claims
to be God alone — Saviour and Redeemer — He is not the God,
the Saviour and Redeemer of the Old dispensation only.
AVe have seen how He proclaims Himself the otily God ; and
in the prophets He leaves no room for error or misapprehen-
sion, for He says, in Isaiah xliii. 11, 'I, even I, am the Lord;
and beside Me there is no Savioicr.' And the Prophet Hosea
corroborates the Prophet Isaiah, saying (xiii. 4), ' I am the
Lord thy God, from the land of Egypt, and thou shalt know
no God but Me; for there is no Saviour beside Me.'

To whom, then, was Jehovah speaking when He thus deci-
sively announced Himself at once the only God — the only
Saviour — the only Redeemer? To whom but to the Jews?
and to whom did our Saviour manifest Himself, and declare
Himself equal with God, but also to the same people — the
Jews — His own — who received Him not ? Can anyone imagine
for a moment that the God who spoke by the prophets, and
He who spoke by the Word, was antagonistic — the one usurping
the authority, and claiming the Divinity of the other? Utterly
impossible I even were there not other and overwhelming proofs
of the identity of Christ with the Maker of all things. ' Before
Abraham was, I am^ said Christ (John viii. 56) ; and here one
of two things becomes absolutely certain. He who said this
was God Himself, Jehovah ; who said to Moses from the burn-
ing bush, when asked His name, ' Thus shalt thou say unto
the children of Israel, I AM hath sent me unto you ' (Exod.
iii. 14); or (with reverence be it spoken) if not so, then
must the Speaker have been the most daring and hardened

296 Nexv Studies in Christiaji TJieology,

blasphemer who ever lived, and that which His bitterest enemies
would shrink from designating Him,

The prophecies concerning the coming of Christ in a human
form are not sparing of their indications of His divinity ; and
if of His divinity, then also of His supreme divinity. ' Behold,'
says Isaiah (vii. 14), 'a virgin shall conceive and bear a Son,
and shall call His name Immanuel;' that is, God with us — God
walking with men. And in that grand verse (Isa. ix. 6) of
evidently the same Child, it is said, ' His name shall be called
lVo?idei'fulf (that name which the angel of the Lord, to whom
Manoah offered a meat-offering, declared to be JJis). ' The
IMighty God ! the everlasting Father ! the Prince of Peace !'

Almighty God ! and Everlasting Father ! These are the
highest possible titles which Jehovah the Lord of Hosts can
claim for Himself ' The zeal of the Lord of Hosts shall per-
form this !' What ! He who will not give His glory to another
— He beside whom there is no God — His zeal shall thus endow
miother as the Mighty God ! Monstrous and impossible con-
tradiction ! which only the short-sighted and puny prejudice of
mankind can have conceived ! The zeal of the Lord of
Hosts is in the cause of humanity — the zeal of the Lord of
Hosts is to lay aside His glory for a time and take our nature,
in order that we. His created beings, might not perish — the
zeal of the Lord of Hosts could not be a weak and vacillating
folly, and yet there is no alternative between that and a mighty
and divine plan of salvation for perishing sinners, dictated by
infinite love, planned by infinite wisdom, announced by infinite
compassion, and carried out by infinite power, infinite bene-
ficence and infinite sacrifice.

And when in the fulness of time the prophecy was fulfilled,
and the virgin received annunciation of her destiny from the
angel, he said to her, ' The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee,
and the power of the Highest shall overshadow thee : there-
fore also that holy thing which shall be born of thee shall be
called the Son of God.' And thus He who in prophecy was
declared to be the Everlasting Father, became the Son of God.

' What think Ye of Christ V 2^7

Son of God, and Son of Man ; He put aside for a time the
glory and empire of His Godhead, descended from His
heavenly throne in order to approach His creatures ; and the
Everlasting Father became the obedient Son ; and not only so,
but even as a man ' He made Himself of no reputation, and
took upon Himself the form of a servant, and was made in the
likeness of man.'

He became also the Son of Man — a Son of our race —
and in the highest sense the Son of Humanity. But as Son
of God, and Son of Man, we have evidence that His was a
two-fold nature. The devils knew Him as the Son of God —
they recognised the Divine in Him. John bare record that He
upon whom the Holy Ghost descended, was the Son of God.
Be said, I am the Son of God—' Verily, verily I say unto you,
The hour cometh, and now is, when the dead shall hear the
voice of the Son of God, and they that hear shall live ' (John
V. 25).

But the Son of Man had not where to lay his head — the Son
of Man must suffer many things, and be rejected by the elders,
and be killed— iho. Son of Man must be lifted up — the Son of
Man must be glorified by suffering, by the resistance of temp-
tation, by the victory over sin 3 and thus finally the Son of Man
must be made worthy to be blessed in a Divine co-partnership,
and an indissoluble union with the Son of God.

The main source of the erroneous doctrine so universally ^
taught in our churches, springs from the difficulty which is
found in comprehending the relation between the Father and
the Son. The Gospel so continually represents Christ as the
Son, addressing an invisible Father, that, although when
properly understood it is simplicity itself, it is not much to be
wondered at, that when once any authority has constructed a
gross idea upon this relationship, it has been seized upon by
minds not easily capable of spiritual conceptions, and an edifice
of error is erected which it is extremely difficult to overthrow.
The Jews, who looked upon our Saviour as a man born among ^
themselves, fiercely resented any assumption by Him of rela-

298 Neiv Studies in Christian Theology.

tionship to God ; and even His disciples very slowly took in the
idea that He, who walked among themselves, who daily talked
to them and taught in their synagogues — however much they
might venerate Him — was really a Divine person. If they could
seize the idea of His Divinity, then, with their monotheistic
education, they could not fail to perceive that He was not a
God, but the God — the Maker of heaven and earth. Those,
who were endowed with prophetic insight saw it at once.
Zacharias, as soon as his tongue was loosed, exclaimed, ' Blessed
be the Lord God of Israel ; for He hath visited and redeemed
His people ' (Luke i. 68). The aged Simeon, taking the Child
in his arms, saw it, and he blessed God, and said, ' Lord, now
lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have
seen Thy salvation' (Luke ii. 29, 30). But it was not so with
others. Christ declared Himself, in no ambiguous terms, over
and over again ; but they could not take it into their under-
standing, and never fully did, until after His resurrection. The
Apostles were fully persuaded of the fact, and St. Paul (Col. ii.
8, 9), contends against the very error alluded to, but which, in
his day, had had scarcely time to develop itself. ' Beware,'
(says he), 'lest any man spoil you through philosophy and vain
deceit, after the tradition of men, after the rudiments of the
world, and not after Christ. For in Him dwelleth all the ful-
ness of the Godhead bodily.' What can be more precise and
definite than this declaration ? But yet this is no more than
Christ Himself declared, w-hen He said, ' I and My Father are
one.'

Although our Saviour spoke in the symbolical relation of a
Son to the Father of all things, yet He always claimed an
equality — an equality, however, only somewhat quahfied as long
as He was a Man upon earth. ' All things,' He said (Matt. xi.
27), ' are delivered unto Me of My Father: and no man knoweth
the Son, but the Father ; neither knoweth any man the Father,
but the Son, and he to whom the Son will reveal Him.' And
more explicitly is this stated just before His ascension, when
He said, ' All power is given to Me in heaven and in earth *

' What think Ye of Christ ?' 299

(Matt, xxviii. 18) — where no reference is made to the Father —
for He was now Father and Son — a glorified, an eternal, and
an infinite God-man. But for explicit declaration that He was
Himself the Father, His words to Philip (John xiv. 6, 8, 9) are
amply distinct. ' Jesus saith, I am the Way, the Truth, and the
Life : no man cometh unto the Father, but by Afe. Philip
saith unto Him, Lord, show us the Father, and it sufficeth us.
Jesus saith unto him. Have I been so long time with you, and
yet hast thou not known Jlfe, Philip ? he that hath seen Afe
hath seen the Father ; and how sayest thou, Show us the
Father ?'

A statement so explicit as this is utterly incontrovertible.
Those who would assert that Christ was not Divine, thereby
accuse Him of falsehood, and of even worse crimes, unless they
salve their own consciences by setting aside the Scriptures, and
flatter themselves with the belief that the words here quoted,
and all the rest of the priceless words of the beloved disciple,
are incredible forgeries. Those, on the other hand, who, by the
light of Divine Truth, can comprehend the deep verities of the
Gospel of St. John, know that it would be the strangest thing
in the history of literature if that Gospel should be spurious —
far, far more strange than that it should be true ; for in it are
enclosed the brightest gems which dropped from our Saviour's
mouth — the key to His Divine nature, which fits accurately all
the complicated wards of the Old Testament and Apocalyptic
books, and without which many difficulties would remain, not
perhaps insuperable, but such as would act as hindrances to
the reception of truth in hosts of believing hearts.

For we are not left in doubt as to the truth of the words.
The old dispensation, we have seen, amply bears out the claims
of Christ to our worship as the mighty God, and everlasting
Father ; and the Apocalyptic vision of St. John clinches the
authority of the Divine words : ' Thus saith Jehovah the King
of Israel, and His Redeemer the Lord of Hosts, I am the first,
and Iain the last, and beside Me there is no God ' (Isa. xliv. 6);
and when John saw one like the Son of Man sitting in the

300 Nezv Studies in Christian Theology.

midst of the seven candlesticks, He laid His right hand upon
him and said, '7am the first and the last : /am He that liveth
and was dead; and behold I am alive for evermore ' (Rev. i.
17, 18).

But if Christ was in the Father, and the Father in Christ ; if
the Father and the Son are one, whence is that notion that they
are distinct persons — three persons and one God— Father, Son,
and Holy Ghost. The Church of England, as we are aware,
continually uses this expression, and declares that this Divine
Trinity is a 7/iysfe7y, beyond our comprehension, inasmuch as we
cannot realize the existence oi three persons which make together
one person. True, we cannot, and the attempt is hopeless and
futile ; but why should we make the attempt ? Are we called
upon to do so ? Where in Scripture is the authority for our so
doing ?

There is but one so-called authority — an authority which, on
reference to the original version, ceases to exist. In Hebrews i.
1-3 we read : ' God, who at sundry times and in divers manners
spake in time past unto the fathers by the prophets, hath in
these last days spoken unto us by (His) Son, whom he hath
appointed heir of all things, by whom also He made the worlds;
who being the brightness of (His) glory, and the express image
of His person, and upholding all things by the word of His
power, when He had by Himself purged our sins, sat down on
the right hand of the Majesty on high.'

Here, then, it is said that Christ has sat down at the right
hand of God in the express image of His person. The Greek
word iiToaruaic, however, does not mean person in this sense at
all ; it is an incorrect translation, giving probably the idea or
prejudice of the translators, and conveying an erroneous im-
pression. It ought to be translated substance, and not person ;
and it means, that the ' Son, or the Divine Humanity of the
Lord, is the express image, or manifestation as to form, of the
substance of the invisible God.' {See Revised Version.)

In the Athanasian Creed this term is applied to each of the
three manifestations of the Divine nature — the Father, the Son,

' What think Ye of Christ?' 301

and the Holy Spirit ; whereas, in this passage, the Apostle uses
it in reference to the Father alone, and hence the confusion ; and
thus the supporters of the doctrine of three persons rest upon a
a reed, and a reed which is rotten and unsound

Again, the prayers of the Church of England almost universally
terminate in aformof words, at once unscriptural and superfluous,
' We ask these things, these blessings, this pardon, for Chris fs
sake.^ If Christ is God the Father, to whom we address our sup-
plication, why do we ask these mercies for Christ's sake ? What
authority have we in the Scriptures for this form of prayer, so
universal among Christians? In Ephes. iv. 32 we read, 'And
be ye kind to one another, tender-hearted and forgiving one
another, even as GodT^r Chrisfs sake hath forgiven you.' Here
then is the authority. And yet, will it be believed that this is
the only passage in our Bibles in which such an expression is
used ; and moreover, that this one passage is an obvious mis-
translation, corrected in the Revised Version ? The original
reads, not God for Christ's sake, but simply as God, in Christ,
has forgiven you. And, indeed, this is in strict accordance
with another passage too often overlooked, where God expressly
announces that He is not an angry God, forgiving only for the
sake, and at the intervention of another — but ' I, even I, am
He that blotteth out thy transgressions for Mine own sake, and
will not remember thy sins' (Isa. xliii. 25).

How different, this; and how baseless the conclusions drawn
from an erroneous passage, which seems first to have made
its appearance in Tyndal's translation of the Bible, and to have
been copied from one to another — sometimes with a marginal
correction, and sometimes without, until the present time !

We have so far spoken only of the Father and the Son, to
show that they are oiie, in the person of Jesus Christ. In con-
clusion, we will make a few remarks upon the Holy Spirit, which
those who uphold the doctrine of three persons, believe to be
co-equal with the other two, as well as a distinct person of the
Divine Trinity.

But surely it requires but a small examination of the Sacred

302 New Studies in Christian Theology.

Scriptures to perceive that the Holy Spirit signified, not another
and a third person, but was simply the Divine operation, or pro-
ceeding, from Jesus Christ glorified.

Nowhere is the Holy Spirit described either as person or uToff-
T-aff/j (substance) but, in John xx. 22 we read that when our Lord
imparted the Holy Spirit to His disciples after His resurrection,
' He b7-eathed oji them, and saith unto them, Receive ye the
Holy Ghost.' Here the n^sD/^a aym, or holy breath, spirit, or
ghost as it is translated, seems really to have been breath — the
Divine afflatus, but only that of the glorified Redeemer. Al-
though, indeed, the term Holy Spirit is used two or three times
in the Old Testament (as in Psa. li. 11), 'Take not thy Holy
Spirit from me,' it is obvious that it is used in a somewhat dif-
ferent sense from the New Testament expression. And al-
though the New Testament repeatedly uses the term, it is
evident that it there had an express and definite meaning which
it had not in the Old. Indeed, our Lord repeatedly promises
it at a future time ; and it was something dependent upon His
own glorification and departure from earth ; and in John vii.
39, we are definitely told that although the Holy Spirit was to
be given to those who believed — yet at that time * the Holy
Spirit av^i- not yet\giwQn, being added in our Version), 'because
that Jesus was not yet glorified.'

And the Apostle Paul leaves no room for dispute, when
(in 2 Cor. iii. 17), after speaking of the ministrations of the
Spirit (ver. 8), he goes on to say, ' Now the Lord is that Spirit :
and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty.'

How then can it possibly be maintained that the Holy Spirit
is intended to convey the idea of a definite personality, distinct
alike from God the Father and God the Son ? co-equal with
them, and having a special and independent role to perform ?

No ; the Holy Spirit is what its name indicates — the spirit
or operation of the Divine Being — the influence proceeding
from Him — the Comforter to support us in the hour of trial
and temptation — the Spirit of Truth to guide us in the way
which leads to Eternal Life.

' W/iat think Ye of Christ ?' 303

Thus do we perceive that the teaching of Scripture is plain
upon all these questions, and offers no support to the common
and erroneous doctrines of a distinction of persons in the Divine
Trinity, or of the personality of the Holy Spirit. The limits
of these Lectures render it impossible to proceed further with
explanations as to our Saviour's relations to His Father; but
enough has been said to prove that His claim to equality with
the Father was supported by the prophets of old, and by the
subsequent Apocalyptic vision of St. John. The Lord, by
assuming our nature, became, as to His humanity, weak and
infirm, like other men. He was the IVord made flesh, which
dwelt among us ; but the flesh is weak, and in that state of
weakness as to His human body he addressed the Father, the
Divinity dwelling in Him ; but His glorification being con-
summated by the completion of His conquest over sin and
death, He no longer felt or spoke of any separation between
His Divinity and His humanity, but said, ' All power is given
to Afe in heaven and in earth.' For now was He, not only as
He had ever been, the Mighty God, but also the Divine Man,
conjoined to His creatures by a community of nature — 'a
great high priest, that is passed into the heavens . . not an high
priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our in-
firmities ; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet
without sin' (Heb. iv. 14, 15).

God — all the fulness of the Godhead bodily — was in Christ,
reconciling the world unto Himself— "f^ho is the Way, the
Truth, and the Life — who is the Resurrection and the Life —
whose words are Spirit and Life. 'Jesus Christ — this is the
true God, and Eternal Life' (i John v. 20),

THE END.

LONDON : ELLIOT STOCK, PATERNOSTER ROW.