2/ . / G . 2.-: LIBRARY OF THE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY PRINCETON, N. J. Presented by Divis%on....,.^Tz.Sr'^ . . Section .h THE DIVINE GLORY IN THE LAW. 139 the commandment, the commandment of Jehovah ; or as I would understand the phrase, what is called and called rightly the spirit of the law, its general ruKng spirit as distinguished from its special minute requirements and appHcations. Of this spirit of the law, it is said that it is pure, that is, as I take it, transparent, lucid. The commandment of Je- hovah, his absolute right to command, his sovereign preroga- tive of rule and government, admitting of no questioning, no remonstrance, no reply ; that is the spirit of the law, the per- vading principle which, running through all its separate details and manifold practical inferences and deductions, gives cohe- rence to them aU and makes them all one. It is a principle which may well be called pure. It has a clearness and transparency all its own. There is no obscurity, no ambiguity, no complexity or perplexity about it ; no difficulty or doubt ; nothing to embarrass or mislead. It is, as we are wont to say, clear as crystal, clear as noonday. Hence it has a wondrous efficacy to enlighten the eyes. It is a sovereign specific for obliquity of vision, mental or moral. It will effectually cure an evil eye. It is the source and secret of singleness of eye. And if the eye is single, the whole body is full of light. Such, I apprehend, is the real force and meaning of this statement of the Psalmist. It brings out a principle which will clearly lead us through all the exigencies of practical duty. Were the law merely a loose heap or chance medley collection or collocation of miscellaneous specific rules, however numerous these might be, and however definite and precise in giving directions, each for its own special depart- ment, still cases might occur for which it might seem that no provision was made ; questions might arise, or circum- stances might emerge, which it might be felt to be difficult to adjust, by any one or more of the exact martinet regula- tions issued in the most voluminous statute book. In point 140 THE DIVINE GLORY IN THE LAW, of fact something like this is frequently experienced in the life of helievers seeking to order their walk according to Jehovah's statutes. There are seasons and occasions when j^ou do really find yourselves at a loss to determine what the path of duty is. Amid comjjeting calls and conflicting claims, you scarcely know which to prefer, or what way to turn. Considerations of various kinds, all serious and important, weigh with you, drawing you in various directions. You begin to calculate contingencies, and balance scruples ; you hesitate ; you halt ; you are fairly at a stand. Ah ! in such cases, how great a matter it is just to have the eye single, or as it is in the Psalm, to have the eyes enlightened ! To be purged from malice and partial counsel ; to have the heart fixed ; to have one thing alone to seek above all, and through all. Thy will be done ! That will go far to clear up all. For it is the wisdom which cometh from above, and which is " first pure, then peaceable, gentle, and easy to be en- treated, full of mercy and of good fruits, without partiality and without hypocrisy." Sophistry, casuistry, special pleading, as to particular rules being binding in particular cases, or as to the lawfulness and the limits of what you hold to be all but unavoidable relaxation, are all scattered and driven to the winds, if there is an honest insight into the spirit of the law, the clear and transparent commandment of Jehovah, his sole, absolute, and sovereign right to command. Let that be clearly and cordially recognised. Let there be an unqualified acknowledgment of his right to command, his prerogative of rule over our whole selves, and all our doings. Let it be with us, " Speak, Lord ; for thy servant heareth ! " " Lord, what wouldst thou have me to do 1 " " Here am I, Lord, send me ! " That is to me and in me practically the spirit of the law, that is singleness of eye, according to the Lord's manner of speech. It is the enlightening of the eyes which the Psalmist here so highly prizes. If only you have this THE DIVINE GLOKY IN THE LAW. 141 clear principle of unreserved submission to the command- ment of Jehovah — to Jehovah commanding — burnt into yoiu' hearts through the experience of your oneness with Christ in his obedience unto death, and kept ever pressing on the vision of your spiritually enlightened eyes, the occasions will be very few indeed on which the path of duty will not be made plain enough before you. " I wiU guide thee with mine eye," is the Lord's promise to you. But it is a promise connected with a past yet ever present experience, and an ever present purpose for the future. There is no guile now in your spirits ; no more keeping of silence on any matter of controversy, or contra- diction between you and Jehovah. There is fuU confession, and frank forgiveness ; you making a clean breast of all in you that is against God, because you now at least see how he opens up all his heart in love to you. There is real, present, conscious reconciliation. And then there is deliverance from your needing, as the horse or as the mule, to be kept in with bit and bridle ; governed by mere legal force and terror. Now God guides you with his eye. The eye of Jehovah is ever upon you and upon the next step he would have you to take. Only let your eye be so single, let your eyes be so enlightened, as to meet his eye, whatever its indication may be ; and to count its slightest glance, for or against what you may be balancing in your mind, equivalent to a command- ment cutting short all debate, and shutting you up to instant decision. Even so, 0 Lord, let it be with me ! " Behold, as the eyes of servants look unto the hand of their masters, and as the eyes of a maiden unto the hand of her mistress j so our eyes wait upon the Lord our God, until he have mercy upon us." In this spirit let the commandment of Jehovah be pure and clear to you. Let it be clearly understood and determined in your whole soul and conscience ; let it be a fixed and 142 THE DIVINE GLORY IN THE LAW. settled point ; that Jehovah does command, and must com- mand, and should command, and that you would have him to command — him alone, him always, him in everything. That is really the eye of the Lord guiding you. Let it be so with you, your eye being single, your eyes enlightened by this eye of Jehovah commanding ! Ah ! then there will be a great and thorough purging of your inward vision, a great dispelling of doubt and darkness, a great falling away of scales, pulling out of motes, casting out of beams ; a great clearing up of the way in which Jehovah leads you, step by step, one step at a time ; enabling you to walk in the light as he is in the light. For, in truth, in almost every in- stance in which you feel as if you knew not which of two or more apparently competing or conflicting precepts to obey ; or which way to turn at a point where several roads meet ; or what work to do when calls to work solicit you on every side — you will find, if you examine yourselves, that some want of loyalty and love to God lies and lurks at the bottom of your hesitation ; that it is about your own mind rather than his you are at a loss ; that you are on that account making excuses and gaining time ; wlide all the while you are secretly conscious that a single glance of spiritually enlightened eyes towards the open eye of Jehovah would end all controversy, and prompt instant action. Be ready therefore always to proceed with enlightened eyes upon the pure and simple commandment of Jehovah ; " Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might." Listen to the wise man's counsel : '^ He that observeth the wind shall not sow ; and he that regardeth the clouds shall not reap. As thou knowest not what is the way of the Sphit, nor how the bones do grow in the womb of her that is with child : even so thou knowest not the works of God who maketh all. In the morning sow thy seed, and in the evening withhold not thy hand : for thou knowest not whether shall prosper, either this or that, THE DIVINE GLORY IN THE LAW. 143 or whether they both shall be alike good." Be ye then up and doing for the Lord. And now let me remind you of the footing on which you must be with reference to the law of Jehovah, if you are to have any such apprehensions of its excellency, its equity, its light, as the Psalmist evidently had. You cannot be on the footing on which you naturally are towards it. You are not under the law, as once you were. You are not under it as prescribing the terms of your acceptance Avith God, and pro- nouncing sentence of condemnation upon you as faihng to fulfil these terms. As to all that, you are not under the law but under grace. You are justified freely by the grace of God, through the righteousness which is received by faith. You are saved without the law by grace. And now you come to be under the law in a quite new sense, and after a quite new fashion. Justified, so far as you are concerned, apart from the law altogether, you put yourselves anew, the Spirit puts you anew, altogether under it again. iSTay, not again, but now really for the first time. Only now are you in a position, only now have you the heart, to see clearly, approve and embrace warmly, own cordially, the principle or spirit of the law; Jehovah commanding; Jehovah entitled to command, Jehovah welcomed as commanding absolutely, in all things sovereign and supreme. Yes ! and only now, reconciled, renewed, sanctified, as well as justified, all by grace alone, can you look at all the ordinances and appointments of God, in all the way by which he is leading you, as parts of his leading you forth by the right way that you may go to the city of habitation ; — statutes, therefore, to be recognised as, all of them, from the highest trial of patience to the most trifling trial of temper, right, and therefore really, when rightly used, rejoicing the heart. " There was given to me a thorn in the flesh, the messenger from Satan to buflfet me. For this thing I besought the Lord thrice, that it might 144 THE DIVINE GLORY IN THE LAW. depart from me. And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee : for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in perse- cutions, in distresses for Christ's sake : for when I am weak, then am I strong." "The fear of the Lord is clean, enduring for ever : the judgments of the Lord are true and righteous altogether." The law of Jehovah is thus seen to be unquestionably and unchangeably authoritative, uncompromisingly perfect in its requirements, and infallibly sure in its testimony. It is also a law altogether right and reasonable in its most minute rules and regulations, and most transparently pure and clear in its broad general principle and ruling spirit. But the actual keeping of it is still in question. To secure this there must be a moving power ; a twofold moving power ; on the one hand, a moving power in those to whom the law is given, an inward disposition and inwrought motive, inclin- ing and impelling them to obedience ; and on the other hand, a moving power towards or upon them ; an over-ruling providential agency from without, fitting into and pro- moting the newly implanted energetic principle of obedience within. What then is this twofold moving power that is to secure, in the case of all his people, the actual keeping of Jehovah's law — that law which is at once so authoritative in its require- ments and its sanctions, and so equitable and clear in its substance and spirit. It is on their part their fear of him, and on his part his judgment, his administrative, govern- mental, judicial dealings with them. They fear him, and he judges, chastens, controls, guides, and governs them. In their hearts there is a holy, filial awe of him. In his hands THE DIVINE GLORY IN THE LAW. 145 there is a rod of loving discipline and wise rule for them. And this fear of Jehovah in them, being clean and enduring for ever, with those judgments of Jehovah towards them, which are true and righteous altogether, secures the uniform keeping of the law, as perfect and sure, right and pure thi'oughout. (1 .) The fear of Jehovah is clean, enduring for ever. The cleanness here ascribed to the fear of Jehovah, may be re- garded as corresponding to the purity which is mentioned im- mediately before (ver. 8) as characteristic of the commandment of Jehovah. These two aspects of the law indeed — its being the commandment of Jehovah and the fear of Jehovah — fit into one another so closely as really to embody one thought. By the one phrase, we may understand objectively the spirit of the law as given from above ; by the other, we may understand subjectively the spirit of the law as received and realised within. Jehovah commanding : that is the spirit of the law speaking from above. Jehovah feared : that is the spirit of the law, apprehended and embraced inwardly. For we pass here from the objective to the subjective view of the law ; from the law considered as coming forth from Jehovah, to the law considered as dwelling in you ; written in your hearts ; put in your inmost parts. The command- ment of Jehovah becomes the fear of Jehovah. And the transition is made by the clearness of the law's one grand principle and essential spirit being made effectual by the Holy Ghost for enlightening the eyes ; making the eye single that the whole body may be full of light. Hence you need not wonder if you find that the distinctive quality attributed to the law, as described in ver. 9, corresponds so closely to what characterises it as described in the pre- vious verse. The one is in fact the complement of the other. The fear then of Jehovah is clean ; unalloyed, unsullied, undefiled. It is unalloyed, as gold fresh from the fiery L 146 THE DIVINE GLORY IN THE LAW, trial, and free from the admixture of any baser metal. It is unsullied, as the priestly diadem and robe, intolerant of any spot of filthiness or foulness. It is undefiled, like the camp of Israel, or the courts of Israel's God, or the person of any Israelite within that camp and these courts ; unpolluted by the contact of leprosy, or a dead body, or any such unclean thing. All these instances are suggested when it is said that the fear of Jehovah is clean. And they all contribute to fix the character of this fear of Jehovah ; what it is not, and what it is. It is not, and cannot be, the fear of bondage, of which Paul speaks when he says, " Ye have not received the spirit of bondage again to fear." It cannot have anything in common with mere servile terror ; that instinct of alarm, that sudden dread of consequences, that overmastering feeling of necessity, which holds so many men in a certain reluctant allegiance to the law; bridling them from some excesses, forcing them to some compliances. It is allied rather to the perfect love which casteth out all such fear, and is itself that very love. Few things indeed are less entitled to be called clean ; few things are more contaminated by the presence of unworthy motives, vile affections, and dead works, than the conscience and heart in which that other sort of fear, sordid, selfish, and slavish, reigns. And yet where is the natural conscience and heart in which it does not reign ? There must first be a removal of the enmity against God and insubordination to his law, which sin has wrought. into our very nature ; there must be a thorough, conscious healing of the breach which guilt and lust have caused ; there must be a renewal, reconciliation, peace, submission, before any true reverence, any genuine, solemn awe, any fear of Jehovah that may be spoken of as clean, can be felt or acknowledged as regards the obligation to keep his law. I may be constrained to own some subjec- THE DIVINE GLOEY IN THE LAW. 147 tion to a law whose spirit I dislike, and a lawgiver from whom I am estranged. I may yield a certain measure of enforced subjection. But what, in all this, is my real state of mind 1 I am balancing considerations and calculations of the merest and meanest selfishness. I am trying to effect a compromise between the authority that in spite of myself binds me, and my own inclination to rebel against it. I am ever asking how much good I must do, how much evil I may tolerate. I am ever dealing in evasions and excuses. And, regarding God as a hard master, I count myself almost entitled to elude or modify as much as I can his unwelcome demands ; reckoning somehow on allowances being made by him, so that on the ground of some heartless compliances with the letter of his commands, his forbearance and forgive- ness may be extended to me to the uttermost. This is not a clean motive. Neither is it enduring. There is no stable or abiding principle in such fear as that, to rule always and everywhere my heart and life. On the contrary, its sway is fitful, uncertain, capricious. There are alternations between anxiety amounting almost to the horror of despair, and indifference partaking of the security of the scoffer's defiance, "Where is the promise of his coming?" My mind is wayward and wilful, now agitated by the most abject terror, and again abandoned to all sorts of base imaginations and presumptions of indulgence and impunity. Eut the fear of Jehovah which is clean, endureth for ever. It is a constant and consistent, a permanent and perennial prmciple, of thought and action. It does not operate by fits and starts, at intervals, upon impulses. It implies a settled, serene frame of mind, always the same, reverential, conscientious, simple, and guileless, fixed in and on God. It is clean; purged from all sinister aims, all cherished lusts, and the whole miserable scheming of dead formality. It is high and holy, unselfish, incorrupt, un- 148 THE DIVIXE GLOEY IN THE LAW. worldly. It is the cleansed and enlightened eye of honour, ever honourably meeting the open, trusting, loving eye of a reconciled God and Father. And the fear of Jehovah, being thus clean, endureth for ever. How clearly does all this prove that except a man be born again, born of the Spirit, he cannot see the kingdom of God ! For the kingdom of God, what is it 1 What but Jehovah commanding, on the one side, and Jehovah feared on the other. God in Christ commanding supremely ; God in Christ feared lovingly ! The whole design of the gospel is to establish the sovereignty of God in his own heaven, and the fear of God in your hearts. What indeed is the gospel but this, in theory or principle, Jehovah commanding, in actual effect, Jehovah feared 1 True, it is a plan of mercy, a method of forgiveness and reconciliation, of free grace and per- fect peace. But consider always the great fact on which it is based ; God " hath made him to be sin for us who knew no sin, that we might be made the righteousness of God in him." Enter into the meaning of this fact, believe it, realise it, as ap- plying to yourselves personally, to each one of you individually, apart. Let the Spirit work in you a living and appropriating faith in the truth of it. Upon this footing, emptied of self, willing to be saved by grace alone, by grace reigning through righteousness unto eternal life ; enter, hesitate not to enter, into the kingdom of God, new born, new created ; no longer under the old curse, but tasting the new blessing of accept- ance in the Beloved ! What a revolution have you experienced ! Never before, never otherwise, could you cordially or with consent appre- hend Jehovah's right to command, or any exercise of that right, except only as the assertion of mere absolute and arbitrary will enforced by irresistible power. Never could you feel in yourselves any fear of Jehovah, except only the sort of fear which makes a slave crouch under the lash of THE DIVINE GLORY IN THE LAW. 149 the tyrant whom, at heart he hates, and whom he is ever seeking to deceive and defraud. But how is it now 1 You are no longer a servant merely, but a child. You are no longer a condemned criminal, full of angry suspicion, but a reconciled son, full of loving faith ; having the love of God shed abroad in your hearts by the Holy Ghost, which is given you. Ah ! what a blaze of light now irradiates and illustrates the grand idea of Jehovah commanding ! It is the one idea which, absorbing all other thoughts, fills your whole souls as you gaze alternately on Sinai and on Calvary ! Yes ! let Jehovah command ; let God reign supreme. The sovereignty of his mercy, the freeness and fulness of his love, the riches of his salvation, the whole evangelical system, in short, of electing, redeeming, regenerating, justifying, sanctifying, sav- ing grace, all, all culminate and centre in the everlasting throne, on which now, with eyes enlightened, you are ever- more beholding as a great sight, the Lord reigning, the Lord commanding. ;N"or does the sight either offend or appal you now. It awakes, indeed, deepest reverence and most solemn awe ; but no abject terror any more. A loving reverence, a confiding awe, it awakens ; a holy, affectionate, filial fear, clean, pure, abiding ; such a fear as ennobles and elevates, while it humbles and subdues your whole moral nature and spiritual frame ; such a fear as the angels feel, who ever veil their faces before his presence, as they stand ever ready to do his pleasure. (2.) As this fear of Jehovah is clean, and therefore always enduring, so the judgments of Jehovah are true, and right- eous altogether. The administration of the law, in the pro- vidence of God towards you, is in entire harmony with the establishment by the Spirit of the law in you, as Jehovah commanding and Jehovah feared. The spirit or principle of the law viewed objectively, as given forth from God, which is Jehovah commanding, becomes in your believing recogni- 150 THE DIVINE GLOEY IN THE LAW. tion and acceptance of it, subjectively and experimental!}^ Jehovah feared. And now, as regards the enforcing of it on the part of God, it passes into yet another formula, as it were, and becomes Jehovah judging. Jehovah judging ; that is Jehovah governing; applying the rules and enforcing the sanctions of his law, in his providence. For all the dealings of the Lord with you, to whom he has thus graciously revealed his law as magnified and made honourable by his Son in your behalf, and in whom he has wrought by his Spirit entire acquiescence and consent ; all may be summed up in the general thought of Jehovah judging you. In all his treatment of you, Jehovah is acting towards you the part of a judge. He must needs so act towards you, since you are under law to his Son, to Christ. He is ruling you, governing you. All the things that befall you are administrative and judicial acts ; in their bearing upon you they are Jehovah's judgments. And in that view they are altogether true and righteous ; true, as really fitting into the realities of your souls' experi- ences ; righteous as bringing these experiences into accordance with the type and model of them, the righteousness of God himself There is thus a j)erfect harmony and correspondence between the judgments of Jehovah towards you, and the fear of Jehovah in you. The work of grace forming in you the law as " Jehovah feared," and the work of providence adminis- tering towards you the law as "Jehovah judging" are quite at one. Providence goes along in harmony with grace. There must first and primarily be grace ; grace to embrace and Avelcome the law as not condemning me, but really justi- fying me, through the law-satisfying work of Christ ; grace to receive the law into my inner man, and have it made there by the Holy Spirit, part and parcel of my very nature. To one in that mind, the judgments of Jehovah, his jjrovidential dealings in accordance with his law, appear true and righteous THE DIVINE GLOEY IN THE LAW. 151 altogether. They have ever been so regarded by all in whom the fear of Jehovah has been. " I know, 0 Lord, that thy judgments are right, and that thou in faithfulness hast afflicted me." " Eighteous art thou, 0 Lord, and upright are thy judgments." But how little are we inclined even at the best, to view the dealings of Jehovah's providence in so solemn a light ! We call them accidents ; we trace them to second causes, or take no account of them, except to murmur and complain. But they are all Jehovah's judgments ; they all serve to bring out what is the fear of Jehovah in j'our minds and hearts. All of them every day may, and must do so. For there is no need of waiting for extraordinary turns of fortune or great vicissitudes of good or evil, to discover to others, or at least to yourselves, what manner of men you are ; what manner of spirit you are of, with reference to Jehovah and his law. Little things may do it as well, perhaps better. A little disappointment, a little provocation, a little vexation, a little cross, a little care ; or, on the other hand, a little mercy, a little kindness received, a little service rendered, escape from a little danger, may serve, alas ! to make it all too palpable, how little you have learned to enter into the spirit of the law, which is Jehovah commanding, and Jehovah feared. Oh ! that amid the details of daily conduct, the minutiae of ordinary Hfe, there were more of this devout acknowledg- ment of the judgments of Jehovah ! more waiting for them ! more observation of them ! If there were, you Avould know far better than you do now ; experimentally, by trial, how altogether righteous they are, all of them, from the least even to the greatest. From every one of them ; not only from every meditative walk you take among the glorious works of God, under the arch of heaven and light of the glorious sun, and from every hour you spend in the devout study of his 152 THE DIVINE GLOEY IN THE LAW. law ; but even from every casual occurrence in the common streets, and from every incident of your daily meals and nightly rests ; you might learn a lesson in the exercise of meek submission to law as Jehovah commanding, and holy, reverential, loving trust in his administration of all things. And in regard to all his dealings with you, even those which seem most unaccountable and mysterious, those dark dispensations and sore visitations, which in his unsearchable wisdom he is pleased to appoint for you, if only you accept them as his judgments, parts of that judicial rule and admini- stration by which, as a Father, he is training, correcting, schooling you, for his glorious service here and hereafter ; if thus you receive them as Jehovah's trials of your allegiance, and patiently and in faith await the issue, you will ere long be satisfied that amid all their bitterness they have some sweet cordial for your soul ; that you are governed in the wisest manner and led by the right way ; that the judgments of Jehovah are true and righteous altogether. THE VALUE AND SWEETNESS OF THE LAW. 153 X. THE VALUE AND SWEETNESS OF THE LAAV. " More to be desired are they than gold, yea, than much fine gold : sweeter also than honey and the honeycomb. Moreover by them is thy servant warned : and in keeping of them there is great reward."— P.S. xix. 10-11. Two figures are used (ver. 10) in commendation of the laAV, gold and honey ; the one indicating its intrinsic value in itself ; the other its relish in the actual experience or taste of it. It has a worth of its own which gold cannot measure. It has a flavour when tasted that sweetest honey cannot rival. This double praise of the law may be considered, either, in connection with the particular description of the law's different characters and offices going before (vers. 7, 8, 9) ; or in connection Avith the brief summary of its power and influence coming after (ver. 1 1 ) as crowning all. I. Taking it in the former of these connections, the value of the law, as compared with gold, may be measured by .the good it does ; its honey sweetness by its manner of doing it. 1. The golden good that it does in the region of spiritual experience is manifold, as is the power or influence Avhich gold literally wields in the affairs and ongoings of the world. It converts the soul ; it makes wise the simple ; it rejoiceth the heart ; it enlightens the eyes ; it inspires a fear of Jehovah that is clean and ever-enduring ; it harmonises all his judgments, all his providential dealings, as true and 154 THE VALUE AND SWEETNESS OF THE LAW. righteous. Can the finest gold do as much as that 1 Can it do anything like that in the sphere over which it holds proper sway 1 It can, alas ! do much — too much, not only there, but even in the sphere in which it ought to have no place. It can debauch the conscience, pervert the will, and fan the folly of presumptuous disregard of all warning. It can infuse the poison of discontent, under duty, and cast its dust into eyes willing to be blinded. It can overcome salutary fear, and pervert righteous judgment. It can mystify or mis- lead the witness ; it can bribe or bias the judge. In all the sorts of influence which carry men along in the line of their natural inclinations, their natural positions, gold, fine gold, is all powerful, and therefore to the natural mind very precious and desirable. But what power has it in the opposite direction ] What power to turn the current of men's thoughts and feelings, to change the character and remould the entire mental and moral frame 1 What power to give a man the mastery over him- self, and over things without? The law has that power. And it has it as being like gold, which is not only a highly prized article in commerce, but an instrument and medium of exchange on which all commerce turns. As "Jehovah enacting, legislating" — inserting sharply into the convinced conscience and sin-smitten soul the keen point of its uncompromising perfection, it works so as to enforce consent to the guilt of transgression being laid, not on the sin-doer, but on the sin-bearer, making the transgres- sor at last willing to exchange his own righteousness for that of Christ ; his own forfeited dead life, for the life of him who liveth, and was dead, and is alive for evermore. As " Jehovah testifying and warning " it breaks in, often rudely and terribly, upoir the folly of men sleeping secure on the brink of the pit, and forces them to see how inevit- THE VALUE AND SWEETNESS OF THE LAW. 155 able is their doom, if they are not wise in time to foresee the evil, and hide themselves. So it makes them exchange their fond and foolish dream of exemption from, for the wisdom which embraces Christ bearing that punishment ayvaj. As "Jehovah ordaining" in exchange for that murmuring frame of mind Avhich is ever counting Jehovah's statutes grievous, complaining of his requirements as irksome, it in- spires the loyal and filial spirit which welcomes them re- joicingly as the Father's ordinances for his glory and their good. As " Jehovah commanding " it gives, in exchange for embarrassment and indecision amid the complicated experi- ences and demands of life, the clear and constant light of a single eye, fixed on a single ruling princij)le, everywhere and always subjecting all things to itself. As " Jehovah feared," in exchange for a mean and fitful impulse, sordid, selfish, capricious, prompting sudden alarms, to be as suddenly appeased by unworthy opiates or pallia- tives, it gives a clean and enduring motive ; a reverential awe, not superficial and passing, but deep and lasting. As " Jehovah judging," and owned as, in all his dealings, exercising a wise disciplinar}^ training in the line of his law, in exchange for the temptation to regard the things which befall as a sort of chaos, it gives a willingness to see in all of them a true and righteous governing plan of correction, guidance, discipline. " That bad thing, gold, buys all good things." So says, and truly in a sense, one of our poets. The reverse, how- ever, is here true — that good thing, law, buys all bad things. It buys up all evasion of its perfection on my part by the provision of a perfect satisfaction on my behalf. It con- verts and buys me, in and through my perfect substitute and surety, thus making me by purchase loyal to it as uncom- promisingly perfect. I am bought with a j^rice to be under 156 THE VALUE AND SWEETNESS OF THE LAW. the perfect law. The law buys me, redeems and rescues me from the vain notion of impunity, to be wise in fleeing to the stronghold as a prisoner of hope. The law buys out of me my resentment of Jehovah's statutes as if they were un- righteous and unfair, giving me, instead, a heart to rejoice in them all, in each and all of them. The law divests me of all doublemindedness, all obliquity of vision, and endows me instead with singleness of eye ; enlightenment in the frank acknowledging of Jehovah's authority to command. It buys up the unclean and uncertain motive of mere sordid, selfish, abject, and servile dread, and it implants in exchange for that a loving, holy, filial reverence. It buys and hides away from me all dark resentful suspicions of Jehovah's dealings in the administration of his law, and in room of them all implants a humble, serene, and cheerful assurance that, in his govern- ing according to his good and holy law, all his ways are just and true. Well, then, may the law stand comparison with gold ; well may it be held, in all its aspects and workings, to be desired more than much fine gold. It is far more powerful, and its power is far safer and far better. It buys bad things out of you which gold can only leave with you and make worse. Eelieving you of these bad things, it buys for you, and gives to you good things which gold, try as it may, can never purchase. Many good things gold may buy ; gold, and the pleasures it commands ; all natural good things it can buy ; all gifts of genius ; all genial affections ; all highest powers of intellect ; all deepest sympathies of humanity, it can buy ; in large speculations, or by drops and driblets ; alas ! it can buy them all for a joyless prosperity, a heartless show, a drunken unclean cup. The law has no power or excellency in that line. But set in the light of the gospel plan, the great evangelical mode THE VALUE AND SWEETNESS OF THE LAW. 157 of salvation by freest grace, in terms of strictest law, seen as magnified and made honourable in the law-fulfiUer and law-satisfying mediator ; written in the heart by the Holy Spirit, the law of liberty, the law of love, it does in its proper region infinitely more than gold can ever do in what is its. It negotiates better exchanges in a better market. It wields a higher power in a higher sphere. It does not merely help you to exchange one poor perishable article of earthly mer- chandise for another, to be kept for a moment and then sold again, or stolen or lost. It enables you to exchange yourself for yourself ; your old self, guilty, blinded, rebelhous, unclean, for your new self, converted, enlightened, enlarged, single- eyed, joyous, and free for ever. 2. The manner in which the law wields its command thus comparable and preferable to gold, is such as to entitle it well to the commendation of being sweeter also than honey and the dropping of honeycombs. This quality of the law, its sweetness in its workings as described in the preceding verses, can scarcely be explained beforehand. It must be experimentally tried and proved. I might, indeed, present you an ideal picture of the law, abstractly and apart, in its own intrinsic beauty, harmony, and heavenly grace. I might ask you to view it, pure and simple, coming straight from the pure and holy heart of God. And I might enlarge on the elements of inexpressible sweetness that there are in it, con- sidered in itself ; such sweetness to the pure spiritual taste as no cloying gratification of any bodily appetite can for a moment pretend to rival. But it is not thus that the law is here set forth. It appears not simply as displaying itself in its own untouched and unsullied grace and glory, but as work- ing, energetically working, coming into contact with all the parts of our con-upt nature — the conscience, the understand- ing, the affections, the whole soul — dealing with them closely, stirring the depths of thought and feeling in our carnal minds 158 THE VALUE AND SWEETNESS OF THE LAW. and perverse wills. It is in that view of its personal and pointed probing of the thoughts and intents of the heart that the law is said to be sweeter than honey. Is it really so 1 Do you who are spiritually exercised in what used to be called law-experience, exercised as Paul was in the 7th of the Eonians, do you feel it to be so 1 When your sin is finding you out, and the Holy Spirit is destroying your refuges of lies, and a sense of the almighty Lawgiver's holy w-rath is smiting you, and but the faintest gleam of Hght from the altar keeps you from utter despair, is there sweetness in such law work as that ? Yes, brother. There is the sweetness of fevered lips long debauched by noxious drugs or stimulants, now gently touched with a single drop of milk and honey. It will not be at once all the promised sweetness that is to challenge and overmatch the sweetness of the honeycomb. It is but a faint foretaste, a mere earnest of that. For there is this difference betw^een the two things here compared. Honey, on its first contact with the lips and palate, gives forth at once all its sweetness. Its effect on Jonathan was instantaneous and complete (1 Sam. xiv. 27). But the prolonged and continuous eating of it tends to diminish or blunt its s^Yeet relish. Becoming accustomed to it, we cease to feel its zest. Indulging freely in its use, we find it beginning to cloy and satiate the appetite. It is other- wise with the law of Jehovah, when it is eaten, and becomes the food of the soul. In its first entrance into the inner man, searching and trying the thoughts and intents of the heart, driven home by the Holy Spirit into the inmost depths of my spiritual nature, detecting and condemning the evil of ungodliness and carnality reigning there, it may be felt as altogether and only bitterness. It must be felt so all the more Avhen it drags me out of my concealment and sets me naked and ashamed before the holy One. But Adam must THE VALUE AND SWEETNESS OF THE LAW. 159 have felt that there was a faint and feeble taste of sweet- ness when, in his awful consciousness of guilt, he heard the voice, " Where art thou 1 " It must have been, a sweeter moment for him than he had had since his deadly- sin. It was a drop of heaven's honey in the cup heU had given him to drink. And from being but a sip at first, scarcely to be recognised or distinguished amid the over- powering sense of the guilt and loathsomeness of sin, the sweetness grows. As I am moved and enabled by the Spirit to accept the punishment of my sin ; to consent to be dead by the law, crucified with Christ, and to be saved by grace through him ; as, living in my living lord, I come to realise Jehovah's law as being to me what it was to him ; as I find experimentally the value of its guidance, 'and of Jehovah's government of me in terms of it ; so the sweet- ness grows. Its honey flavour, instead of suffering decrease, becomes more and more congenial, and refreshing, and re- viving, and fits me more and more for valiantly and joy- fully fighting with Jonathan's spirit the battles of the Lord. II. The twofold commendation of the law in ver. 10 may be) taken in connection with what follows as well as with what goes before (ver. 11). "Moreover by them is thy servant warned ; and in keeping of them there is great reward." By them is thy servant warned. This makes them in my esteem more to be desired than gold, yea, than much fine gold. If indeed I am the Lord's servant — if I can say from the heart, "0 Lord, truly I am thy servant; I am thy servant, the son of thy handmaid : thou hast loosed my bonds ; " freed me from all other masters to make me thine only ; " Behold, as the eyes of servants look unto the hand of their masters, and as the eyes of a maiden unto the hand of her mistress ; so our eyes wait upon the Lord our God until that he have mercy upon us ;" — if in this spirit lamthe servant of Jehovah; 160 THE VALUE AND SWEETNESS OF THE LAW. I desire to be continually warned ; admonished at every step ; reminded of duty ; cautioned against danger. And the law of Jehovah, in its various aspects and applications, is ex- ceeding precious, because by it, by them, I get what I desire, I am warned. This indeed is not a natural desire. We do not for the most part care to be too closely watched, to be continually getting hints and advices, suggestions and remonstrances. We are willing enough to take our instructions in a general way from our master ; but we like to be left very much to ourselves in carrying them out. To be perpetually super- intended, and directed, as to every minute detail of the task entrusted to us, is irksome, irritating, humiliating. That however, will not be your feeling if, being on a right footing with him, you serve the Lord. You would have him ever at your hand, to counsel you at every turn. And so you have in some one or other of his various ways of applying and administering his wondrous law, wondrous as being so mani- fold and yet one. Jehovah is at every moment beside you, so that his word is a lamp unto your feet, and a light unto your path. " By these things," you can say, " these rules and ordinances of thine, is thy servant warned." 2. "And in keeping of them there is great reward." This testimony of Jehovah's servant explains their being sweeter than honey ; as the former, " by them is thy servant warned," shows how they are more desirable than gold. In keeping of them there is a great reward. Not only is there a reward pro- mised for keeping them. In the keeping of them there is a great reward. It is the sentiment of a generous and loving heart, thoroughly on the side of Jehovah, thoroughly at one with him, as lawgiver, ruler, judge. I do not yield a grudging service to a hard master. I do not go through an irksome task as the condition of a prize to be won when it is over. I do not merely work for reward. I have my reward in working. THE VALUE AND SWEETNESS OF THE LAW. 161 But let me not be misunderstood. Let not these two sayings be regarded as irreconcilable. I do in a sense "work for reward. I may not under-rate the future recompense before me. For that would be to renounce my position as Jehovah's servant, and almost to affect equality with himself. I am his servant, his emancipated servant ; loosed from servile bonds that I may serve him freely ; his hired servant, bought first from bondage and then hired. He has hired me, given me my work, and promised me my wages. I must accept my condition, as his hired servant, with all its obligations and responsibilities. Like Moses, I have respect to the recompense of the reward. My Lord requires me to be faithful in the trust committed to me now, to render service, to endure tribulation, having respect to the glory to be revealed at his coming. He himself, for the joy set before him, endured the cross. But my blessedness in connection with Jehovah and his law now is that I do not separate the service and the reward. To me now they are identical. The service is the reward begun ; the reward is the service perfected. The one is the earnest, the foretaste of the other. In serving now, amid whatever sufferings, I have a taste of heaven's joy. And heaven's joy, when I reach it, is still the joy of serving. " His servants shall serve him." Fix your thoughts on this little phrase, " thy servant." It is most significant ; it is all important here. It is the key to this whole eulogy of Jehovah's law. It explains all that is said about its perfect sovereignty, and power, and beauty ; its desirableness above gold ; its sweetness beyond honey. All turns on this phrase " thy servant." All turns, my brother, on your willing- ness to make that phrase yours ; thoroughly and in good faith to take as yours the position which it indicates ; and say to the Lord God of Hosts, " thy servant ! " Ah ! if you do not, if you will not say that, the whole of this M 162 THE VALUE AND SWEETNESS OF THE LAW. praise of Jeliovah's law is, in your nioutb, a delusion and mockery. These two closing commendations suggest a searching test. To be warned ; to be watched ; to be reminded at every step you have to take of danger and of duty ; to take well every check of conscience, every hint in providence, every suggestion of the Holy Spirit, every glance of the Father's eye, every silent look, like what Peter saw, of the Son and Brother arresting you, bidding you pause and think ; to take that well ; to count a single such admonition from above, laying an arrest on what is now soliciting you from below, more precious than untold treasure ; and then, when your feet are turned again into the right way, to find in the real work and service of the Lord, in self-denial, cross-bearing, witness-bearing, for the Lord's sake ; to find in the very work itself, be it common work sanctified, or special sacred work become, as it should become, common, a sweet relish of love and freedom and joy that no honey from earth's choicest comb can rival ; all that implies your being the servants of Jehovah, in a very thorough sense ; his servants truly and indeed. " His servants ! " And what does that mean ] It means entire self-surrender ; it means " not my will but thine be done." And this can come only, and blessed be God, it can come thoroughly, through your consenting, at once, and once for all consenting to be in Christ ; to be in him what he is to the Father ; what he manifested himself to be, when he said, " I must be about my Father's business." Thus only can you be brought to renounce your natural insubordination to divine authority and your natural assertion of self-will. Thus only can you be persuaded to accept the position of servant. Hence my final appeal ! Get out of the attitude of in- subordination in which you stand towards God. Submit THE VALUE AND SWEETNESS OF THE LAW. 163 yourselves to him. Give in your submission to him. I beseech you, be reconciled to him. Yes ! that is all. Get to be yourselves on right footing with God himself. And then all will be right as to his law. Therefore I close with the solemn testimony that you must be born again, that you may enter into the kingdom of God, which is the doing of God's will, and not yours ; and with the affectionate, tender, free and loving invitation : — " Come now and let us reason together, saith the Lord : though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow ; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool." " Now then we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God did beseech you by us ; we beseech you in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to God." 164 THE PRAYER OF WATCHFULNESS AND FAITH. XL THE PEAYEE OF WATCHFULNESS AND FAITH. " "Who can understand his errors ? cleanse thou me from secret faults. Keep back thy servant also from presumptuous sins ; let them not have dominion over me : then shall I be upright, and I sliall be innocent from the great transgression. Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, be acceptable in thy sight, 0 Lord, my strength, and my redeemer." — Psalm xix. 12-14. There is great meaning here in saying " thy servant " (ver. 1 1). It implies that at this stage, after all that I have seen of God as the Almighty, in the glory of creation, and as the unchangeable Jehovah, in the righteous, holy, and gracious sovereignty of his laws, I am his servant — out and out his servant. Yes, Lord ! I cry, I am thy servant ; truly I am thy servant, the son of thy handmaid ; thou hast loosed my bonds. Once I served other masters, divers lusts and passions. But of that servitude thou hast loosed the bonds. I was not thy servant then ; not truly thy servant, I winced under the admonitions of thy law ; thy commandments were, in my enforced submission, grievous. But as thy servant now, made free to serve thee, I desire to be admonished, to be warned. Above aU things I desire to be admonished and warned at every step. And it is because thy law, in all its forms, warns me as thy servant, that I prize it above much fine gold. And my whole heart now being in the keeping of all thine ordinances, I find that in the very keeping of them there is a great reward, a blessed satisfaction, rest and peace, THE PEAYEK OF WATCHFULNESS AND FAITH. 165 such as makes them sweeter than honey and the honey- comb. But, alas ! I scarcely weigh the gold, I scarcely taste the honey, before, under the deep sense of there being so much in me and about me that is not precious but vile, not sweet but bitter; not gold or honey, but the opposite, dross and dung — I am constrained to cry out (ver. 12) " Who can understand his errors 1 " It is a sad and plaintive cry, and yet salutary and hopeful. For it is not the language of one to whom the law of Jehovah is still an object of dislike and tbead, a mere yoke of bondage. It is not the language of one vainly seeking to get acceptance, and holy joy, and life by a painful compliance with the form and letter of the law. It is the language of one to whom the law has been brought home by the Holy Spirit, in all its exceeding breadth and power and searching spirituality ; in all its excellency, authority, and loveliness ; of one whose whole inner man — mind, heart, soul, conscience, will — is now thoroughly on the side of Jehovah and his law; of one who most thankfully embraces that method of peace which magnifies the law and makes it hon- ourable ; of one whose real longing it is to attain to perfect conformity to the law which he loves, and to whom every instance of nonconformity to its pure spirit of love is a deep distress. In truth, it is only in such a frame of mind that you will care about understanding your errors at all ; only when, consenting to all the principles of the divine admini- stration, as brought out in that plan of saving grace by which Jehovah's judicial righteousness and Jehovah's fatherly love are blessedly harmonised, you go with his law, which now to you is the law of liberty and the law of love, as with a candle, into the recesses of thought and feeling within, searching yourselves, and asking the Lord to search you ! Ah ! then comes the woful lament : — " The law is spiritual, but I am carnal, sold under sin; I delight in the law of 166 THE PRAYER OF WATCHFULNESS AND FAITH. God after the inward man ; but 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. Oh ! wretched man that I am ! who shall deliver me from the body of this death?" "Who can understand his errors 1 The closing verses of this psalm give an insight into the experience you may have, as spiritually enlightened and spiritually minded men, thus applying the law of Jehovah to your own carnal selves. The several successive prayers offered up are wrung from the tried soul under the pressure of the question. Who can understand his errors 1 They have all a pointed reference to the power and prevalence of indwelling sin, in all its tendencies and stages, from the original source of inborn lust or desire ever striving still for the mastery, to the final consum- mation of apostasy and ruin, in which, but for the prayer of watchfulness and faith, it may ere long result. I. The first prayer, " Cleanse thou me from secret faults," springs naturally out of the complaint, " "WHio can understand his errors 1 " In searching and trying your waj'^s as spiritual men, according to the spirit of the holy law, you soon make a sad discovery. It is this. Search as you may, ever so faithfully — all the more, in fact the more faithfully you search — you fijid that you are stirring the depths of a dark sea of evil — a deep abyss of disloyalty and disaffection to Jehovah's righteous and loving rule, which all your search- ing cannot fathom. But you would have it purged. The unknown, unfathomable ocean-caves where the bitter waters of uncleanness ever ominously lurk, you would fain have purified. But who can purge or purify 1 Who but the searcher of hearts alone 1 Thou, Lord, understandest my errors. Thou canst reach and touch their hidden source and THE PRAYER OF WATCHFULNESS AND FAITH. 167 spring in the inner man. Therefore I come to thee for thorough inward purging and purification : " Cleanse thou me from secret faults." Secret faults ! What are they 1 They are not merely offences secretly committed, and so hidden from the eyes of your fellow men. Such offences you will indeed discover in any honest, thorough, spiritual survey of your inner and outer life only too abundant ! The instances in which you have ventured on the commission or tolerance of sin, in imagina- tion at least, if not in act, in a manner and in circumstances that you would shrink from the very idea of making known to your most confidential friend on earth, are numerous enough and aggravated enough to cause deepest remorse and shame. But still these are not the secret faults from which, with the Psalmist, you pray you may be cleansed, at least not these alone, or chiefly. As in the lowest depth there is a lower still, so, far back, behind, deep down beneath, these covert indulgences of the passions, you reach the ultimate root and pregnant seed of depravity in the very nature which, as members of a fallen family, you inherit. That nature is the seat and prolific source of secret faults and of errors that never can be fully understood. Germs of evil are in it that never can be esti- mated or counted. They do not disclose themselves to the world's censorious eye. They do not discover themselves to your own eye, in its flattering and self-indulgent mood, when they are dormant and you are blind. But if any of you have ever set about the work of self- discipline and self- purification, with a thorough desire to be thoroughly holy, and a thorough determination to search and renovate the deepest springs and fountains of unholiness within, you must have come to a point at which the most rigid and rigorous scrutiny of self-examination was brought to a stand. You may trace and track sin in its outward manifestations ; 168 THE PRAYER OF WATCHFULNESS AND FAITH. you may reach it inwardly in its volitions, or movements of voluntary choice, but still more deeply seated is the mystery of iniquity in the inner man. There is a malign and deadly malady in your moral nature which, whenever you come closely to deal with it, baffles your utmost skill, and your most searching penetration to root it fairly out of your system. You may not be sensible of this so long as you dally delicately with your natural corruption, your habitual frame and temper of secure and settled unconcern — keeping be- setting sin at a decent distance, by means of some seemly compromise, and if not making terms with it, yet maintain- ing at the best a very listless, heartless show of contending against it. But come to close quarters. Come as believing men, earnest men, who would not only have the will choos- ing what is holy, but the very nature itself conformed to what is holy. Come as being bent not only on doing good, but on being good — good in the true, divine sense of being good — as he was who, not merely in his life went about doing good, but in his very nature was good, holy, harmless, undefiled. Alas you will soon come into contact with the secret faults of a nature very different from his ; a nature radically corrupt, whose deep and desperate depravity you can neither estimate nor cure ! You assail indwelling sin, working in one direction; it breaks out working in another. You mortify fleshly lust in one form of it ; anon it revives in another. You think you have got the better of your ungodly passion, your unholy inclination, and for a time it seems to be overcome or to give way ; but it rises again and takes you at unawares, from a different quarter, and on a diiferent side. You are compelled to own that you have to meet in this war- fare not open enemies, but ambushed traitors. They are far too many and too strong for you. " The heart is deceitful above all things," you cry, " and desperately wicked ! AVho THE PRAYER OF WATCHFULNESS AND FAITH. 169 can know it V "I, the Lord, search the heart!" Oh! may not that response reHeveyou. " I, the Lord, search the heart ! " Then search my heart, 0 Lord, search it thoroughly. " Purge me with hyssop and I shall be clean ; wash me and I shall be whiter than the snow. Create in me a clean heart, 0 Lord, and renew within me a right spirit." By blood and water — atoning blood and purifying water — let me be tho- roughly redeemed, regenerated, renewed, washed, sanctified, and justified in the name of thy Son, and by the operation of thy Spirit. Cleanse thou me from secret faults. II. In your spiritual exercise of soul upon Jehovah's law, you find secret faults bordering on the region of presumptuous sins. Presumptuous sins ! These are acts of the will, as the former are faults of the nature. Por secret faults, your nature may be said to be responsible ; for presumptuous sins, your will. Does this distinction exonerate you from blame, as regards those secret faults 1 Not certainly if you are in earnest when you pray, " Cleanse thou me from secret faults." The natural man, unconverted and unsanctified, who has no sense of sin's exceeding sinfulness, or of the perfect beauty of holiness, may find solace and satisfaction in charging upon his natural disposition and temperament the blame of those evil propensities with which he does not choose to grapple. It is enough for him to regulate his outward and voluntary actions properly. The involuntary desires that are ever springing up within him are, he says, beyond his control, he cannot be expected to cope with them, he cannot be held bound to account for them. The very reverse of that will be your feeling if you have learned to love Jehovah's law, and to hate heartily Avhatever is opposed to it. The experimental discovery that opposition to the law, in its essential spirit, as " Jehovah commanding," 170 THE PEAYER OF WATCHFULNESS AND FAITH. not only characterises your outward conduct in some par- ticulars, but is of the very essence of your carnal mind ; this insight which the Spirit gives you into the inveterate depravity of your very nature and its inevitable tendency towards secret faults ; so far from being accepted as a pallia- tion of your guilt or an alleviation of your grief, only serves to aggravate and embitter your distress under the sad sense of your indwelling and inborn enmity against God, and increases the agony of your prayer for a thorough inward renewal ; " Cleanse thou me from secret faults." And this must be all the more your feeling when you find the secret faults of your nature so apt to become presumptuous sins in your life. " Keep back thy servant also from presumptuous sins." The prayer implies a keen and vivid apprehension of your liability to such sins. Keep me back, I need to be kept back, from presumptuous sins. For secret faults, inward natural tendencies to evil, not rooted out, but only concealed by some superficial cleansing, are continually apt to effloresce into presumptuous sins. And let it be observed, that the more tender and faithful your conscience is, in regard to the holy claims of Jehovah's law and the guilt of your natural insubordination to its authority, the more sensitively quick will you be to discern the elements of presumption in the sins you are apt to commit ; and the keener will be your feeling of your being so carried on to the commission of such sins that you need almost violently to be kept back. Sins will appear to you presumptuous which others would regard, and you once would have regarded, as accidental, and to a large extent involuntary. Giving harbour, even for a brief moment, to an unclean thought or ungodly imagination ; uttering, under provocation, a hasty and unguarded word ; indulging your all but unconquerable tendency to sloth in God's worship or weariness in God's service ; a momentary ebullition of THE PRAYER OF WATCHFULNESS AND FAITH. 171 temper ; a wandering of the mind away from God and from duty ; these, and similar infirmities, which so many excuse to themselves as inevitable and therefore venial, will more and more assume in your eyes, as you grow in the light and love of Jehovah and Jehovah's law, the character and the criminality of presumptuous sins. Once you might have dismissed them from your thoughts, with the light and flippant apology — " I could not help it." Now you see and feel that, on such occasions as those now in question, your thoughts and imaginations, as well as your actions, are far more under the control of your will than you were once prepared to admit. And entertaining an increasing dread of whatever evil in you or about you has in it, even in the smallest measure, the elements of deliberation, or voluntary choice ; alive also, not only to the continued existence of natural corruption in you, but to the continual risk of your consenting to its existence ; you offer, with ever deep anxiety, the double prayer : " Cleanse thou me from secret faults. Keep back thy servant also from presumptuous sins." III. A worse evil still ; worse even than the commission of presumptuous sins, but flowing from that, the spiritual man has to depreciate, under the influence of his love of Jehovah's spiritual law, and his sad insight into his own carnality and corruption regarding it : " Let them not have dominion over me." Let them not, these presumptuous sins, gain the mastery and ascendancy in my heart. Ah ! there is the possibility of a sad downward tendency indicated here. Secret faults, if you do not seek to be cleansed from them, will soon pass into presumptuous sins ; and presumptuous sins, if you are not kept back from them, will, almost before you are aware, come to have dominion over you. Any natural lust, or passion, or inclination, if the will consents to it but a little, and but for a little, becomes a tyrant whose 172 THE PKA.YER OF WATCHFULNESS AND FAITH. yoke it is hard indeed to shake off. It acquires and wields the stern dominion of habit. Mark its insidious way. An evil, or a doubtful, tendency of your nature, contrives first to get itself barely tolerated in your fancy. Then, stealing imperceptibly on, it has sop after sop ministered to it, in repeated acts of limited and cautious indulgence. It grows more and more bold and undisguised. At last it drops the mask of a humble suppliant and solicitor, ready to be content with anything, and assumes the lordly and domineering part of a master, able and entitled to dispose of all things. Who, alas ! has not too frequently experienced this melancholy working of the deceitfulness of sin ? the wiles of the devill It was a safe as well as a noble resolution to which Paul gave expression, when, with reference to fleshly indulgences and gratifications of natural desires, he exclaimed, "All things are lawful unto me, but all things are not expedient ; all things are lawful unto me, but I will not be brought under the power of any ! " Tell me not of this or that practice being, in a literal, formal, technical sense, lawful. There may be no precise or peremptory categorical rule in the statute-book concerning it. I might adopt or continue it and challenge the whole church and all the world to convict me of crime. But I have felt the bitter bondage of sin. I feel the glad liberty of grace. And too well do I know my own weakness and corrupt tendency, as well as the supremacy which evil once tolerated comes by custom to exercise, to run any risk in that direction again. I know the truth, and the truth has made me free ; free to trample on the lying tempter ; free to serve my God and Father as a son in his house ; the Sou making me free with his own filial freedom. That freedom I will not compromise or endanger. All things may be lawful for me, but I will not be brought under the power of any. Keep back thy servant from presumptuous sins ; THE PRAYER OF WATCHFULNESS AND FAITH. 173 sins incompatible with free filial service. Let them not have dominion over me. IV. There is yet a further step in the line of departure from Jehovah and Jehovah's law, against which you have to watch and pray. It is indicated in the brief saying, " Then shall I be upright." For it is implied that were you to follow the course deprecated, in the preceding petitions, you must cease to be upright. If you are not cleansed from secret faults ; if you are not kept back from presumptuous sins ; if you fall again under their dominion ; the con- sequence is inevitable. You forfeit your integrity. You no longer continue to be upright. "Then shall I be upright." The expression at once carries us to the 32d Psalm, and to the state of mind there described as being pre-eminently blessed (vers. 1, 2) " Blessed is he whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered. Blessed is the man unto whom the Lord imputeth not iniquity, and in whose spirit there is no guile." " Behold an Israelite indeed," said the Lord with reference to Nathanael ; having, as I believe, that Psalm in his mind, " Behold an Israelite indeed, in whom is no guile." So may every poor sinner be hailed and welcomed, who has received grace to renounce the devices of self-righteousness, and acquiesce in the free and simple gospel of reconciliation. That gospel, so received, secures truth in the inward parts, and wisdom in the hidden parts. No other way can do so. Invariably, and inevitably, guile is the distinguishing characteristic of all who, not knowing the righteousness of God, or not submitting themselves to it, go about to establish a righteousness of their own. They must have recourse to shifts and devices of self-justification, altogether inconsistent with a guileless spirit. Ah ! it is a great matter when, through grace, this miserable necessity of guile is brought to a com- 174 THE PRAYER OF WATCHFULNESS AND FAITH. plete and conclusive end. David felt it to be so. The relief which he found when he was enabled thus to be up- right was as if he had passed from the prostrate weakness and racking pains of a loathsome disease, to the lightness and enlargement of manly strength. It was the exchange of roaring all the day long, for the melody of joy and health to be heard in the dwellings of the righteous. David speaks, with absolute horror, of the time when he kept silence ; when there was guile in his spirit ; when he practised reserve, and restrained himself from the full and frank unburdening of his soul, and the opening up of his whole state before God. Instead of confessing his sins, in the assured belief that God was faithful and just to forgive him his sins, he tried to persuade himself that he had little or no sin to be confessed and forgiven. But it would not do. God would not suffer him in that way to find rest. There must be truth in the inward parts. Weary, therefore, of all concealment and disguise, he was shut up into the more excellent way (ver. 5). Then came light, enlargement, joy. An honourable trust in God, an open, guileless trust in God, took the place of sus- picion, alienation, and alarm. Have any of you had experience of this blessed deliverance from guile and from guilt 1 from guilt and guile together ? If so, will you lightly incur again the hazard of being ensnared and entangled in the meshes of the guile which guilt creates. And yet how can you escape if, not cleansed from secret faults, nor kept back from presumptuous sins, these sins are allowed to have dominion over you 1 Know you not that whosoever committeth sin is the slave of sin 1 It is a maxim of universal application ; a law of universal sweep and range ; an inherent law of the human soul. Of the unjust in the early church Peter testifies that though they promised liberty to those they would seduce, they were them- selves the bond-slaves of corruption. "For," he adds, THE TRAYER OF WATCHFULNESS AND FAITH. 175 announcing a great fact, a great principle, which cannot be evaded, "of whom a man is overcome, of the same is he brought in bondage." So Paul again, " Know ye not that to whom ye yield yourselves servants to obey, his servants ye are to whom ye obey, whether of sin unto death, or of obedience unto righteousness 1 But God be thanked that ye were the servants of death ; but ye have obeyed from the heart that form of doctrine which was delivered you. Being then made free from sin, ye became the servants of righteousness." Being made free from sin, will you suffer it again to have dominion over you 1 If you do, can you expect still to retain your integrity ? " Sin," says Paul once again, " sin shall not have dominion over you, for ye are not under the law but under grace." If therefore sin contrives at any time to have domin- ion over you, then, in so far as it succeeds, you cease practi- cally to be under grace. To all intents and purposes you are under the law again. The old legal spirit of bondage returns, the old slavish fear and cowardly shrinking away from God. Then comes the old system of making excuses, keeping silence, and resorting once more to the old degrading arts of self-justification ! Alas ! who has not felt all this 1 May you not be feeling it now 1 Is there any sin, it may be a single sin and that a little one, with which you are dallying or trifling, any doubtful practice with which you are beginning to indulge, any omission of duty to the thought of which you are becoming accustomed, any one known or suspected evil thing to which you feel that you are surrender- ing yourself 1 Then do you not already find your upright standing before God compromised, and the simplicity of your reliance on his free grace spoiled, and the openness and frankness of your fellowship with him marred, by the con- sciousness of there being something in your spirit about which you cannot venture to speak to him unreservedly 1 You dare 176 THE PRAYER OF WATCHFULNESS AND FAITH. not now, with unabashed and loving eye, look your Maker and Eedeemer, your God and Father, in the face. You can- not ask him honestly to search and see if there he any wicked way in you. You shrink from your own judgment much more from his. You are embarrassed and ill at ease in his presence. 0 my friends ! Beware of guile. And that you may beware of it, stand fast in the liberty wherewith Christ makes you free. V. But there is still one more disaster which the spiritual man dreads. To one iinal calamity he feels himself to be exposed. He is alive to the terrible risk and danger of " the great transgression." He sees, beyond the loss of his spiritual integrity, and flowing from that loss, a still worse evil against which he must watch and pray. For well does he know that if once he ceases to be upright before God, and in his deahngs with God, there is no security for his con- tinuing long innocent of the great transgression. 1 take this expression here to denote the unpardonable sin ; the sin for which no prayer is to be made ; the sin against the Holy Ghost which never can be forgiven. Into the nature of that sin I do not now particularly inquire. Upon that point. Holy Scripture leaves you very much in the dark. And it does so, I believe, designedly and of set purpose ; both because the warning against it, from its very indefinite- ness, may be all the more solemn ; and because it is not any particular act, or course of conduct, that is meant when that sin is spoken of, but rather a certain state of mind and heart. If the sin in question had been described exactly as to its out- ward signs and manifestations, you might have been tempted to cherish an undue feeling of security on the mere ground of these being, as you might suppose, in your case wanting. Or on the other hand, imagining erroneously that you could THE PRAYER OF WATCHFULNESS AND FAITH. 177 detect them as characterising your spiritual position, you might be plunged into the depths of irremediable despair. The Bible therefore furnishes no means, no data, for identify- ing " the great transgression " as a fact of which either the individual himself who may commit it, or others around him can be cognisant. All that it does is to hold up before your eyes the distinct and unequivocal intimation that there is a kind and degree of resistance to the Holy Ghost which seals upon him who is guilty of it the sentence of final impenitence and a judicial hardening of the heart for ever. !Nor is there any difificulty in ascertaining at all events whereabouts this terrible danger lies. Let the process which I have been describing be suffered to go on ; the process (1) of indifference as to being cleansed from secret faults ; (2) toleration of presumptuous sins ; (3) subjection to their dominion ; and (4) the loss of uprightness, departure from the simpKcity of an honourable and single-eyed trust in God ; let this sad course of backsliding and declension continue but for a little, unarrested, unchecked ; and it is not hard to perceive how it must soon issue in confirmed and hopeless apostasy. For a time there may be a struggle with remain- ing convictions, and an attempt, by some miserable scheme of self-righteousness to impose upon yourselves, and if it were possible, upon your God. You may try a poor and pitiful game of compromise, evasion, and guile. But you cannot long keep up the farce, the trick, the device ; you become weary of it, and ashamed of it. It is a positive relief to you to get rid of it, if not in the way of yielding obedience to the Spirit striving Avith you and work- ing in you to revive and quicken you ; then in the way of casting off his restraints and being no more troubled with his rebukes, until at last the grieved Spu'it withdraws altogether, and the sentence goes forth from heaven, "Ephraim is joined to idols : let him alone." N 178 THE PKAYER OF AVATCHFULNESS AND FAITH. I raise no question here, nor can I suflfer any to be raised, about the perseverance of the saints, and the certainty of their final salvation. These are abundantly and effectually secured by the terms of the everlasting covenant ; by the sovereign decree of election ; by the good Shepherd giving his life for the sheep ; by the promise of the Holy Ghost to abide with you for ever ; and, to crown all, by such assurances as these, given by Jesus himself; "All that the Father giveth me shall come unto me ; and him that cometh unto me, I will ia no wise cast out." " My sheep hear my voice and I know them, and they follow me, and I give unto them eternal life. And they shall never perish, neither shall any pluck them out of my hand. My Father which gave them me is greater than all, and none is able to pluck them out of the Father's hand. I and the Father are one." So the sheep are safe to the last. But on whatever valid ground the doctrine of the perseverance and ultimate salvation of be- lievers rests, certainly it does not rest on anytliing in their own consciousness or in their experience. On the contrary, and as a practical matter, their actual security lies very much in the vivid apprehension which they have in themselves of the possibility of the awful catastrophe of a final falling from grace being realised in their own case ; such an appre- hension as Paul had when he said, " I keep under my body, and bring it into subjection ; lest that by any means, when I have preached to others, I myself should be a castaway." Under this feeling, you will be ever sensitively alive to the risk you run when you linger even for a moment on any part of the downward and declining path which must plunge all who travel along it in. the depths of confirmed unbelief, and eternal, because incurable, hardness of heart. Nay, so sensitive will you be in this matter, if you are indeed spiritual men, that you will never at any time feel yourselves at all safe, unless your foot is planted in a very different path, leading to a very different goal. For you may be very THE PRAYEK OF WATCHFULNESS AND FAITH. l79 sure that, if you would not run the risk of the slippery way that slopes downwards and hellwards, you make sure work of your getting and keeping some firm footing in the way that leads upwards and heavenwards to God's own throne, and home, and heart. VI, This accordingly you seek to do by pntering into the spirit of the closing prayer : " Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, be acceptable in thy sight, 0 Lord, my strength and my redeemer." For I regard these words, not merely as an appendix, and as it were an amen, to the present exercise, but as an integral and essential part of it. The Psalmist is not merely asking the Lord to accept the words he has been now uttering and the medita- tion in which he has now been engaged. No. Generally and universally he is praying, that always and everywhere the words of his mouth and the meditation of his heart may be such as God may accept. In that view, there is a great practical truth here brought out. Holiness, godliness, conformity to Jehovah's law, is not a mere negation ; if it were so, it would be precarious indeed. It is a jjositive and positively active principle. It is not a mere struggle against evil. If it were so, it would be a painful and doubtful struggle to the last. It is a reach- ing out to that which is good. The life of God in the soul of man is not merely a life of striving against sin ; but a life also of " pressing on towards the mark of the high calling of God, in Christ Jesus our Lord." And the calling is unto holiness ; unto the active, persevering, progressive pursuit of positive holiness. Ah, friends ! be sure that there is no security against sin regaining its ascendency over you in your merely aiming at keeping it out of your heart and mouth ; as if the heart could be kept pure by being kept empty ; and the mouth 180 THE PRAYEE OF WATCHFULNESS AND FAITH. could "be kept clean by being kept shut and silent. Fill the heart with holy thoughts. Fill the mouth with holy songs and sayings. Let there not be merely the absence of corrupt musings from your heart, and vile utterances from your mouth. Let it not be counted enough that the Lord, when he searches your heart, should find no cherished thoughts of evil to be condemned, and when he listens to the voice of your lips, should hear no blasphemies, or ribaldries, or outbreaks of passion, to offend his ear. Let him find, when he comes, an acceptable meditation in your heart ; acceptable words in your mouth. Is he not well entitled to this ? Is he not your strength and your Eedeemer ; your strength, giving you ability for this very thing ; jowv Eedeemer who has bought and purchased you expressly vrith a view of redeeming you from the guilt and power of sin by the shedding of the precious blood of his Son ; strengthening you with might by his Spirit in the inner man ? He fits your mouth for speaking acceptably ; your heart for meditating acceptably ; and, as your strength and your Eedeemer, he furnishes the very theme of medita- tion and speech which is most acceptable in his sight. Let mouth and heart, therefore, be ever busy. That is what you pray for. You ask the Lord, your strength and your Eedeemer, to keep your heart and mouth ever busy. Let mouth and heart be occupied ; pre-occupied ; so pre-occupied and pre-engaged that " secret faults " may never at any time be able to win a word from you, or to win a thought from you. This alone is your security, For if once these " secret faults," the movements of evU imagination and evil desire springing out of your corrupt nature, succeed in getting you to speak of them, or to think of them, be it but a single word, a solitary thought ; they instantly take the character of presumptuous sins. They obtain an advantage over you. THE PEAYER OF WATCHFULNESS AND FAITH. 181 They sully your integrity and shake your steadfastness. Your safety lies ui refusing them a word, a thought. And that you may be in a condition to refuse them when they knock, be engaged always with other visitors, better guests. " 0 Lord, open thou my lips, and my mouth shall show forth thy praise." I will sing of thy righteousness all the day. I will be ever speaking of thy testimonies. My meditation of thee also shall be sweet. Like Isaac, I will go out to meditate in the field. Like David, I will meditate in the night watches. Like Peter, I will muse and pray on the house-top. Let my mouth be filled with thy praise and with thy honour all the day. " Give ear to my words, 0 Lord ; consider my meditation." " Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in thy sight, 0 Lord, my Strength and my Eedeemer." 182 THE BLESSEDNESS OF THE FORGIVEN, XII. THE BLESSEDJN^ESS OF THE FOEGIVEN. ' ' Blessed is lie ■whose transgression is forgiven, whose siu is covered. Blessed is the man unto whom the Lord imputeth not iniquity, and in whose spirit there is no guile." — Psalm xxsii. 1, 2. There are liere a privilege, a character, and a blessing. The privilege is that of " the man unto whom God imputeth righteousness without works " (Rom. iv. 6). The character is that which Jesus recognised and owned in Nathanael (John i. 47). The blessing attached to both is substantially the full peace and free access described in Eom. v. 1. Thus, all the three Old Testament thoughts, of privilege, character, and blessing, receive a New Testament interpretation and appli- cation. But the Old Testament experience, as regards these thoughts, must be our guide and mould ; for the psalm is an experimental one. The psalmist's own experience is there- fore all in all. And the psalmist being, without doubt, David himself, gives us all the benefit of it. He tells us plainly of the trial through which he has come. He had been keeping silence ; suppressing conviction ; evading honest confession. It may have been some special sin about which he was thus practising reserve ; or the reti- cence may have had reference to his spiritual state generally. The point is, that he has not been speaking to God about himself, or about something in himself fitted to cause uneasi- ness. There has been a shrinking from fair dealing with God, either about his state generally, or about a specific sin ; THE BLESSEDNESS OF THE FORGIVEN. 183 and that implies guile ; self-deception at least, if not wilful hypocrisy. He has been excusing or justifying himself. But he has not found rest. In very mercy God has not suffered him to find rest. His own conscience resents the attempt to impose on its veracity, and stifle its voice. And the Spirit, quickening his conscience, reproves and convicts him. He is so self-condemned that he cannot get rid of the sense of a more terrible condemnation : " For if our heart condemn us, God is greater than our heart and knoweth all things" (1 Jolm iii. 20). He is constrained, graciously constrained, to try a more excellent way, the way of full, unreserved, and unqualified confession. Then comes the blessedness of a glad relief from his own. conscious or half unconscious guile, and a calm, quiet sense of the Lord's par- doning and justifying grace. I. The privilege. Observe the successive steps in the description given by the psalmist, and by the apostle inter- preting the psalmist, of the privilege conferred, or the grace bestowed, on the guileless man ; and mark how completely, at every point, his case, as an awakened sinner, is met. 1. " Whose transgression is forgiven." This assurance is fitted to relieve that awful sense of guilt, that terrible appre- hension of merited wrath under which you labour when first your sin really finds you out. Your fond dream of impunity is broken. All your refuges of lies are overthrown. You dare not now plead that your offence is venial, or listen to the tempter's soothing sophistry : " Ye shall not surely die." You cannot any longer comfort yourself by reckoning uj)on a large measure of indulgence now, and an easy escape at last. You tremble at the thought of a judgment to come. The sentence of condemnation under which you lie prostrates you in the dust. It is felt to be real, inevitable, righteous. You cannot face your own accusing conscience ; how much less 184 THE BLESSEDNESS OF THE FOKGIVEN. can you face an angry God? You cannot forgive yourself Can you hope that God will forgive you 1 Can there be for- giveness with God for such sin as yours 1 for such a sinner as you 1 There may be much mercy for others, can there be any mercy for you, for you the guiltiest of the guilty, of sinners the chief? All the aggravations of your miserable state of mind toward God, your enmity against him, your rebellion against his holy law, rush ujoon your startled soul. The shifts and expedients of pains and penances, of prayers and alms, by means of which you have been trying to miti- gate your anxiety and assuage your remorse, are become them- selves grounds of alarm. The first thing you need is to believe in the forgiveness of sin. A free pardon, remitting the punishment, condoning the offence, must be put into your hand. The voice of him who has power on earth to forgive sin must reach your ear, your heart : " Son, daughter, be of good cheer, thy sins be forgiven thee." 2. " "Whose sin is covered." Here another feature of your case, another element in your experience, is looked at ; the sense, namely, not merely of the grievous guilt and just doom of your sin, but of its offensiveness, its loathsomeness, in the sight of the holy Lord God. For if your conviction of sin is genuine, and of a gracious godly sort, it works in you not fear only, but deepest shame. You shrink, not only from the uplifted rod of vengeance, but even still more from the pure and penetrating eye of him who wields it. You feel that holy eye looking upon you ; looking into you ; into your utmost soul ; your heart of hearts ; the very core of your nature : and seeing there nothing that can be truly pleasing to him : but much, very much, that must be infinitely distasteful. " I have heard of thee by the hearing of the ear : but now mine eye seeth thee " (Job. xlii. 5). Thou seest me, and thou must needs abhor me. Such is your dark dreary thought. And it is not relieved by the mere promise or' THE BLESSEDNESS OF THE FORGIVEN. 185 word of pardon — thy sins be forgiven thee. It is not enough for you to be told that you are not to be called to account for what you have done, for what you are, and visited with the doom which you deserve. Absolution from guilt, the remission of its penalty, will not now suffice. For it is not your being under God's wrath and curse, as exposing you to death, that chiefly vexes and grieves you. Nay, for that matter, you could almost be willing to accept the punishment of your sins. But that you should be yourselves, personally, objects of offence and abhorrence to him — having in you and about you, at the very best, so much of the abominable thing which he hates — that is what has become to you intolerable. Ah ! then, how may you welcome the intimation, that there is not only forgiveness for your transgression, but a covering for your sin. And it is a covering which he himself provides for you through and in his Son, and which he himself puts on you by the power of his Si^irit. It is a covering so com- plete that he sees in you no iniquity, no perverseness, any more ; a covering so costly, so comely, so fair and lovely, that when he beholds you clothed with it, you are without spot in his eyes. He looks upon you now, and is infinitely well pleased ; as well pleased in you as in him whose beauty clothes you ; of whom he testifies, " This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased." 3. " To whom the Lord imputeth not iniquity." Here, again, another need of the truly and spiritually awakened soul is graciously and fully met and provided for. If your con- science is rightly exercised about your sin when it finds you out ; if, under the Spirit's work of conviction, the law of God is brought home to you in all its sovereign authority and searching spirituality ; if it commends itself and approves itself to you as holy, and just, and good ; if you delight in it after the inner man ; if you are alive to its uncompromising and unchangeable character and claims ; and if the command- 186 THE BLESSEDNESS OF THE FORGIVEN. ment so conies that sin revives and you die; — then, no for- giveness of your transgression, no covering of your sin, will fully satisfy your anxious spirit, unless you see how your ini- quity itself, your transgression, your sin bodily, as it were, can be dealt with, disposed of, got rid of, in terms of strictest law, demanding satisfaction and redress. You tell me that God is not to punish me for sin, for it is pardoned. You tell me that God no longer looks upon me with displeasure, as loathsome and offensive on account of sin, for it is covered. But there is the thing itself, the fact, the deed. It exists. It is a reality. And it is mine. I know and feel it to be mine. And I knoAV and feel how the law requires that it should be treated ; that I, whose it is, should be treated for its sake. Yes ! And I hold with the law now in this very matter. I am on the law's side. Because I am now loyal to the lawgiver ; and just in proportion as I am loyal to the lawgiver, I am on the law's side. I feel the need of justice being done. To have sin pardoned, to have it covered, may be all, so far, very well ; but there it is ; needing to be dis- posed of and dealt with. Yes, there it is, my sin, deserving punishment. And nothing but inflicted punishment can make it cease to be ; make things to be as if it had never been. Such is the righteous, ineradicable instinct of my moral nature, quickened into exercise by the Holy Spirit. Such is the necessary and unalterable verdict of my awakened conscience. Hence the intense craving of earnest souls for penance or atonement. Ye careless, heedless, godless sinners ! You, in your carnal, worldly security, have no such feeling as that of which I speak ! You can easily believe that God will not visit you for having sinned hitherto, and that he will wink or turn away his eye when you sin again. But let the Holy Ghost show you what sin is ; what, under the government of a righteous God it must be held to be ; as an act of rebellion THE BLESSEDNESS OF THE FORGIVEN. 187 against bis righteous sovereignty, and a breach of bis boly law. You will not then be so simply, or so easily, satisfied and set at rest. Look ! See ! What mean these priest- imposed or self-inflicted tortures, these bloody flagellations, these painful pilgrimages 1 Is it not the inherent instinct of justice blindly or madly seeking satisfaction? And thou, 0 my brother ! sin-smitten, heart-broken ! art thou in darkness, in difiiculty, for this very cause 1 Consulting now for thy God as well as for thyself ; for his truth and right even more than for thine own safety, dost thou refuse the com- fort of forgiveness because thou canst not imagine it possible that such sin. as thine can be suff'ered to pass unpunished ? Look ! see ! " Behold the Lamb of God that taketh away the sin of the world ! " The sin is thine no more ; it is not imputed to thee. It is taken from off thee and laid on the great Sin- bearer. It is not ignored. It is not overlooked. It is not treated as if it had no reality and no guilt. It is as a great fact, a terrible reality, laid upon the head of the Holy One of God. It is thine no more, because it is his. It is not spared. He in bearing it is not spared. In his person it is visited to the very uttermost. Wilt thou not be satisfied, 0 doubter, now 1 Wilt thou not look on him whom thou hast pierced 1 Wilt thou not believe that God is just, when he is the Justifier of them that believe in Jesus ? 4. For now we reach the crowning and comprehensive summary of the apostle : " to whom the Lord imputeth right- eousness without works." Eighteousness ; his own righteous- ness ; the righteousness brought in by his own dear Son ; the righteousness of his holy personality, as God-man ; his per- fect fulfilment of the law's requirements, as the Father's servant, on our account ; his endurance of its sentence of penal death as made sin, made a curse for us ; this righteous- ness is imputed to us, placed to our account. Not that it passes from him to us, but that we are in him and have it in him ; 188 THE BLESSEDNESS OF THE FORGIVEN. and that without works, gratuitously, unconditionally, freely, and immediately. This takes in all, it explains all, — trans- gression pardoned, sin covered, iniquity not imputed. Plead- ing that righteousness, I humbly sue for pardon. Clothed in that righteousness I venture to present myself for acceptance in the beloved. Standing in that righteousness I see the guilt of my offences transferred from me to him, and the merit of his obedience, with the atoning virtue of his cross, made mine in him. So I am complete in Christ, in him as made sin for me, though he knew no sin, that I might be made the righteousness of God in him ; he sin for me, I the righteous- ness of God in him. II. Such being the nature of the privilege, it is not difficult to see how it is connected with, and indeed depend- ent upon the grace or qualification of a guileless spirit. The connection or dependence may be held to be indicated in Eom. X. 3. They who miss or reject the righteousness of God ; whether through ignorance or proud self will ; either not understanding it, or not willing to humble themselves into acceptance of it ; must needs go about to establish a righteousness of their own. That may be an easy enough affair with some, with many. Some good and kindly dis- position of heart ; some charitable deeds and acts of natural beneficence ; an abstinence on principle from the vices of profligacy, profanity, and fraud ; and a becoming conformity to the decenies of religious worship and ordinary social inter- course— may quiet conscience and give peace. In other instances, some stronger measures may be needed ; measures reaching to the utmost depth of bodily or spiritual mortifica- tion. Still, in either case, and all through any intermediate cases, there is guile in the spirit. There is unfair and untrue dealing. There is the putting of something else instead of THE BLESSEDNESS OF THE FOKGIVEN. 189 what conscience testifies that God does and must inexorably require. You do not deal truly with God or with yourselves ; with God's authority and God's law ; with your own con- sciences and with your own hearts. You must establish some sort of righteousness of your own. You must have something to lean on and trust in when you have to face, however vaguely, the question of your relation to God, your standing in his sight, and your prospects under his government. Can it be anything that does not imply there being guile in your spirit 1 You must, in some way or other, be trying to beguile God. You are really and only beguiling yourselves. You are not looking God or yourselves full in the face. You are not looking in the face the real question at issue. You are evading the real point in debate ; raising false or irrelevant pleas and issues. It must be so. There must be this special pleading. And the essence of it is guile in your spirit, in your heart which is " deceitful above all things and desperately wicked." Have you rest and quiet in that way of dealing with God ; or rather in that way of escape from direct deal- ing with God 1 God forbid ! Far better bones waxing old by your roaring all the day long ; God's hand day and night heavy upon you ; your moisture turned into the drought of summer. Far better this worst anguish of a convinced conscience that can find no refuge or rest in guileful dealing with itself or with God. Far better that, than a conscience satisfied with formal homage and false peace. Thank God, brother, if he does not suffer thee in that way to get ease from the disquietude. Let him break the silence, the sullen or angry silence, of thine unwillingness to be a debtor to his free and sovereign grace alone. Let him break the silence of thy secret longing to stand on some footing of thine own ; the silence of thy self-justifying con- 190 THE BLESSEDNESS OF THE FORGIVEN. cealment and reserve. Come ; let all be open and above- board between thee and thy God. Let there be no more anything about which there is silence between him and thee. On his part there is nothing. Why should there be any- thing on thy part 1 Guilt cannot now separate thee from him ; no ; not guilt of deepest die. Only guile can do so. And wherefore guile ] Why should there be any more partial dealing with God 1 Why any refusal to be thoroughly reconciled to him 1 Why any continuing in the dark way of compromise when called to walk in the light as he is in the light ; having fellowship with him and he with thee ; the blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleansing thee from all s'ml Mark here two things ; the Lord's dealing with one keeping silence ; and the Lord's dealing with one in whose spirit there is no guile. With one keeping silence God deals sharply and se- verely ; if he deals with him graciously at all. He deals with him in the way both of inward conviction and of out- ward pressure from above. And the dealing may be pro- tracted. It was so in this instance, in the case of David, if, as is probable, the Psalmist describes his experience under his grievous double sin in the matter of "Uriah the Hittite. A full year must have elapsed before that double sin was brought home to him by the prophet Nathan. Was he at ease all that time 1 He was keeping silence. There was that upon his conscience which hindered all free utterance in communion with God. He may not have omitted outward acts and exercises of communion. He may have been all the more punctilious in their observance for his need of something to cover his heinous guilt, and ease his guilt-laden soul. But between him and his God personally there was silence ; no real speech on either side ; all dumb show. It was a sad state ; and in mercy he was made to feel it to be THE BLESSEDNESS OF THE FORGIVEN, 191 SO. It was doubly sad. His own frame and constitution made it so (ver. 3). His very body was affected by the disquietude of his mind. It was as if a wearing out, constant, and chronic torture were eating away aU his nervous strength and making him prematurely old. It is a moral and spirit- ual paralysis, or painful collapse of some sort, that is chiefly meant. The sense not of sin but of silence about sin, dis- solves as to all spiritual purpose the whole inner man. All the more, because, it carries with it and has in it, the sense unacknowledged but yet felt, of the righteous judgment of God (ver. 4 first clause) David may have tried and tried hard, to take off that hand, or to get himself somehow extricated out of its grasp. You would fain do so when you are in the like case with his. You have to deal not only with your own inward misgivings and self-accusing recollections and regrets, enough of themselves to cause the waxing old of your bones through your roaring all the day long ; but with the burden of the divine sentence of wrath, not only impending over you, but pressing upon you ; weighing you down in spite of yourself to the lowest pit. In vain you strive to cast it from you ; as you would cast from you in your reheved and glad awakening, some horrid, hellish, nightmare. It is no nightmare. It is a terrible reality. And you are made to feel that it is so ; if it is a gracious dealing with you on the part of God. And it becomes a persistent per- petual feeling. Day and night his hand is heavy upon you. The business of the day, the quiet of the night, avail not for your rest. In vain you have recourse to the tumult of the world's pursuits and pleasures. In vain you court the slumber of the world's insensibility. God's hand is heavy upon you. It is, no doubt, a painful discipline ; drying up all your moisture ; withering all your life; to be carrying about with you always and everywhere the sense of uncon- fessed, unforgiven, unforsaken sin ; your own conscience 192 THE BLESSEDNESS OF THE FORGIVEN. convicting you in spite of all your efforts in the line of self- excuse and self -justification ; and God's heavy judgment sinking you down in conscious condemnation, in spite of all your attempts to evade it, or to brave it. But surely it is better than your being allowed to sleep on. 2. For mark the Lord's manner of dealing with you when you are enabled, through grace, to break the spell of this mis- erable reserve and concealment and disguise, and come out naked and open, into the open presence of the Holy One. You have not been suffered to find peace in the way of keeping silence. Alas ! too many find peace in that way — excusing themselves, soothing their consciences, explaining away, at least as applicable to themselves, the warnings of coming wrath. But it has not been so with you. You have been awakened. Your sin has found you out. Judgment has come upon you. And all your endeavours to obtain rest while keeping away from God, making the best of yourselves, have ended only in a deeper inward feeling of helpless guilt and sinfulness ; and a more awful apprehension of inexorable and inevitable retribution. But now you try a more excellent way (ver. 5). It is the way of the poor prodigal. And you find in it all that he found. The Father meets you as he met him. He sees you afar off, and runs to meet you. He is beforehand with you. He anticipates your confession. He does not wait for your acknowledgment of sin and your humiliation in his presence. " I said, I will confess my transgressions unto the Lord ; and thou forgavest the iniquity of my sin." Yes, I will have done with the old miserable method of guile, compromise, evasion, dishonesty, in my dealing with God and his law, and his gospel ; I will have done with all guile in dealing with myself, my conscience, my guilt, my sin. I am sick of that wretched game of shifts and expe- dients, as between my God and me. I am ashamed of it. I THE BLESSEDNESS OF THE FORGIVEN. 193 am weary of it. I have done with it. Long have I kept at it, and tried to make the best of it. But all that is over now. I must arise and go to my Father. Were my provision in the far country not the swine's food to which its citizens would banish me, but the richest fare of their sumptuous tables, I could not be content, without a full explanation, a frank confession, a cordial reconciliation, a perfect, open, un- reserved understanding between the Father and me, the guilty, guileful child — guilty still, but now guileful no more. And how dost thou receive me 1 "I said, I will confess my transgression unto the Lord ; and thou forgavest the iniquity of my sin." The harmony or correspondence between the state and the character must now be apparent. The state, implying on the part of God the most thorough and complete absolution ; remission of the punishment, hiding of the pollution, expiat- ing of the guilt. All that is on the Lord's side. And the harmonising or corresponding action on our side is, what 1 What but the laying aside on our part of guile, and of what leads to guile, suspicion, distrust, dislike 1 The de- scription here is one of complete peace. Peace on the part of God. How complete ! What more could be asked 1 Peace on our part. How complete ! What is required of us but the laying aside of guile 1 What but honest dealing 1 God is true in his dealing with us. " Blessed is the man unto whom the Lord imputeth not iniquity." Let us be true in dealing with him, "as the man in whose spirit there is no guile." III. The blessedness flowing from the state and character of the man to whom the Lord imputeth righteousness without works, and in whose spirit there is no guile. His state as justified and his character as guileless is described in the close of the Psalm. I select for application two particulars. 0 194 THE BLESSEDNESS OF THE FORGIVEN. 1. Thou art my hiding place (ver. 7). Strange and start- ling change ! But yesterday, 1 sought a hiding place from thee. And now thou art thyself my hiding place. Fain would I have hidden myself, anywhere out of thy sight, I would have interposed anything between myself and thee — the trees of the garden ; the very trees of thine own plant- ing in the garden, meant for my hearing thy voice and having sweet communion with thee ; the means and channels of thy grace ; the proofs and pledges of thy love ; the ordinances of thy house and table ; I would use as a hiding place from thee, sheltering myself behind them. And if forced to quit them, I would conceal my nakedness by some miserable covering of fig-leaves ; some rags of a righteousness of my own. Anyhow, by any means, I sought to hide myself from thee. Now, thou art my hiding place. What a change ! And how is it to be explained t How, but by the removal of the burden of the guilt from the conscience and the spirit of guile from the heart ! Thou art my hiding place ! Thou who hast made provision for my transgression being forgiven, my sin covered, and my iniquity not imputed ; thou who hast made me open, honest, sincere, guileless, in all my dealings with thee ; putting to shame my hard thoughts of thee, my unworthy suspicions, my cold reserve, my questioning sub- mission ; thou who hast moved and brought me to have most frank and confidential converse with thyself on the very matters that might have kept us apart. Thou who now canst trust me because thou hast made me trust thee ; thou art my hiding place. Yes ; it is this mutual and recip- rocal confidence that warrants and prompts the exclamation Thou art my hiding place. It is God's gracious confidential dealing with me, and my guileless confidential dealing with him. There is no more anything in him against me ; any- thing in his government, for there never was anything in his heart. And now there is no more anything in me, in my THE BLESSEDNESS OF THE FORGIVEN. 195 heart against him. Therefore there is no concealment, no guile in my spirit. Therefore also he is my hiding place. Surely this is blessedness, supreme blessedness. 2. "I will guide thee with mine eye" (ver. 8). It is a most benignant, kindly, gracious mode of guidance. It is opposed to the guidance of mere force, or what tends toward the use of force ; compulsion or constraint ; violence or the threat of violence. It is such guidance as a favourite and faithful servant, or still better, a loved and loving child, can understand and appeciate. It is fatherly guidance apprehended by a filial heart. For if I have a son who loves and trusts me, because I love and trust him, I expect him to watch my countenance ; not merely to wait for my express command ; far less to brave the rude compulsion of my power ; but to observe my very look ; to take a hint from the glance of my eye. Does he see me, ever so faintly, hinting, by the slightest frown, my dislike, or suspicion, or doubt, of any path on which he is tempted to enter, any work or play in which he might otherwise have desired to engage 1 He waits not for positive prohibition. He demands no proof of express unlawfulness. Enough that his filial heart discerns, as if instinctively, a father's anxious scruple. He asks no ques- tions ; he urges no arguments; he submits to the guidance of my eye. And he accepts that guidance in regard to what I would have him to do, as well as what I would have him to avoid. For he understands me. He is of my counsel ; my intelligent and sympathising confidant. He perceives what my heart is bent on ; and, Avithout being forced or bidden, he is on the alert even to anticipate my wish. Surely such a manner of guidance on the part of God is blessedness indeed for those who can apprehend and realise it. And who are they? Not those who are ever asking, Must 1 1 May 1 1 Must I forego this pleasure 1 — submit to this sacrifice 1 — undertake this toil and trouble 1 May I for 196 THE BLESSEDNESS OF THE FORGIVEN. once venture on this liberty 1 enter this gay hall of pleasure 1 allow myself in this doubtful thing 1 Ah ! that is being really as the horse or as the mule which have no understand- ing, who own only the guidance of bit and bridle. It is the spirit of bondage. But ye have not received the spirit of bondage again to fear, but the spirit of adoption by which you cry, Abba, Father. " AH things are lawful for me, but all things are not expedient." " Here am I, send me." " Lord, what wouldst thou have me to do ? " THE FEAST OF TABERNACLES. 197 XIII. THE FEAST OF TABEENACLES. " Praise waiteth for thee, 0 God, in Zion : and unto thee shall the vow be performed. 0 thou that hearest prayer, unto thee shall all flesh come. Iniquities "prevail against me: as for our transgres- sions, thou shalt purge them away. Blessed is the man whom thou choosest, and causest to approach unto thee, that he may dwell in thy courts : we shall be satisfied with the goodness of thy house, even of thy holy temple. By terrible things in righteous- ness wilt thou answer us, 0 God of our salvation ; who art the con- fidence of all the ends of the earth, and of them that are afar off upon the sea : "Which by his strength setteth fast the mountains ; being girded with power : Which stilleth the noise of the seas, the noise of their waves, and the tumult of the people. They also that dwell in the uttermost parts are afraid at thy tokens : thou makest the outgoings of the morning and evening to rejoice. Thou visitest the earth, and waterest it : thou greatly enrichest it with the river of God, which is full of water : thou preparest them com, when thou hast so provided for it. Thou waterest the ridges thereof abundantly : thou settlest the furrows thereof : thou makest it soft with showers : thou blessest the springing thereof. Thou crownest the year vnth. thy goodness ; and th)' paths drop fatness. They drop upon the pastures of the wilderness : and the little hills rejoice on every side. The pastures are clothed with flocks ; the valleys also are covered over with corn ; they shout for joy, they also sing." — Psalm Ixv. This Psalm was evidently composed on the occasion of an abundant harvest ; and was doubtless intended to be sung at the feast of harvest, the joyous feast of tabernacles. That 198 THE FEAST OF TABERNACLES. was the last of the three great festivals of the Jewish year ; and it was appointed to be celebrated with extraordinary pomp and magnificence. The people from all parts of the country assembled at Jerusalem, and dwelt in booths or taber- nacles. A whole forest of goodly palm branches was carried in solemn procession along the roads and streets. The sylvan glory crowned all buildings. The feast had a threefold meaning. The people were thus reminded of the time when, their deliverance out of Egypt being completed, and their enemies signally over- thrown, they pitched their tents peacefully in the wilderness, the Lord himself graciously dwelling in a tabernacle among them. The feast was also one of thanksgiving for another fresh instance of the Lord's faithfulness in fulfilling his pro- mise as regarded the annual harvest ; giving rain in due season ; causing the land to yield her increase, and the trees of the field their fruit. The hope of the spiritually-minded among the people was carried forward, in the exercise of far- seeing faith, to the glorious era of the spiritual harvest-home, and the feast of tabernacles then to be kept ; the feast of tabernacles, the harvest-home, to which Zechariah refers (chap, xiv.), and of which John in the Eevelation speaks (chap, xxi.) The particular season for which this Psalm was composed was marked, as it would seem, by circumstances peculiarly fitted to impress upon the minds and hearts of the people all these associations, views, reminiscences, and anticipations; and to give more than ordinary interest to their holiday. The harvest which they were gathering in had been propitious and bountiful beyond the experience of former years, and beyond the expectations which at one time had been enter- tained of the present year. Danger, also, as we may gather from some hints in the psalm, had been apprehended, not only from drought or the inclemency of weather, but probably THE FEAST OF TABERNACLES. 199 also from a threatened or attempted invasion of enemies, if not from internal commotion. But the Lord had dis- appointed their fears. And now, in the midst of plenty, and in the quiet security of peace, they are called to give thanks to him who, however he may have seemed to frown on them at the beginning, has before the end crowned this year also with his goodness. In these circumstances we can understand how fondly and fervently the devout worshippers might dwell, as in the latter part of the psalm they dwell, on the rich scene which the country was then presenting all around to the eye. And we can enter into the feelings of devout gratitude, and humble faith and hope, with which, as the first part of the psalm shows, they contemplated the glorious scene. For it is, indeed, a most glorious and a most graceful picture, which the closing verses of this song (vers. 9-13) bring before the imagination. The very language is instinct with the fulness of life and joy which it describes. It is more than poetry 3 it is painting ; it is vivid reality. We stand upon the temple-crowned height. "We look abroad on the most romantic, and, in its better days, the most luxurious landscape that ever pleased the taste or touched the heart of man. And while the voice of sacred melody and mirth from the streets of the festive city and the courts of the Lord's house, fills our enraptured ear, the quiet eye wanders over a wide expanse of varied loveliness — a very ocean of unbroken and unbounded fertility. The softness of the balmy air which autumn breathes, the unclouded clearness of its sunshine in that eastern sky ; the golden and burnished splendour of the tints with which it colours all the earth, and the sense of contentment and repose which all its sights and all its associations inspire, — all together unite to shed a new and fresh charm, a new warmth and cheerful gladness over the green fields of the valleys, and the little hills which rejoice 200 THE FEAST OF TABERNACLES. on every side. Then there are the flocks, wandering lazily ■with their shepherds in the well-clothed pastures, or crowding to the folds ; and crops of rich grain waving heavily in the hreeze, or gathered in thick sheaves, or nodding on the full- pressed waggons, as they are carried to the barns ; and an animated throng of joyous reapers and gleaners, all full of interest in the bounty of the year. All nature is bursting forth into singing. The earth, which was but lately so parched and dry, is now dissolved into streams of fruitfulness and fatness. The Lord has visited and watered, he has enriched and softened it. He has settled its furrows. He has prepared its grain. He has blessed the springing of it. And now, in the radiance of that smile which all the valleys and hills wear, and in the shout of joy which they seem to send forth to Heaven — it is seen, it is felt, that the Lord hath crowned the year with his goodness. But it is chiefly with the sentiments which are expressed in the first part of the psalm (vers. 1-8) that I am at present concerned, as bringing out the light in which the people of God were taught to view the blessing of a bounteous and joyous harvest-home. For this psalm, like many others, opens abruptly, first giving utterance to the emotions of which the hearts of the worshippers are supposed to be full, and then explaining the cause or occasion which excited these emotions ; as if the overcharged soul first sought a vent in the simple expression of its feelings, and then was more at leisure to narrate the history of those dealings of God which called them forth. Thus the 32d Psalm begins with a fervent ejaculation regarding the blessedness of the justified man, and afterwards proceeds to recite the personal experience of the Psalmist which suggested that ejaculation. In the 73d Psalm also, the Psalmist hastens, at the very outset, to relieve his mind by bearing testimony to the goodness of God, which he had been ready, in a grievous spiritual temptation, to question : THE FEAST OF TABERNACLES. 201 " Truly God is good to Israel ;" and then he states, in detail, the steps of that painful discipline which led him to such a conclusion. In the 116th Psalm, also, the warm and affec- tionate burst of gratitude, " I love the Lord," precedes and ushers in the account of the special deliverance which prompted it. The redeemed soul first ardently praises the Redeemer, and then calmly reviews the particulars of its redemption. So in the psalm before us. The people in the beginning pour forth the feelings which were produced in their minds by the happy harvest scene which the end of it describes. By attending, therefore, to the first part (vers. 1-8), we shall be able to see what view they took of such a mercy. They looked upon it chiefly in three points of view : — I. As an answer to their vows and prayers, and a token of pardoning mercy (vers. 1-3). II. As subordinate to spiritual privileges, and valuable chiefly as a sign of their continuance (ver. 4). III. As a part of those dealings of God with reference to another and world-wide harvest, which are terrible as well as joyful ; terrible in pro- gress, however joyful in result (vers. 5-8). For it is evident, from the whole tenor of the psalm, that it has reference ulti- mately to another harvest than the year's crop affords ; that it points to the universal harvest of the world. I. The abundant harvest is regarded as an answer to vows and prayers, and a token of pardoning mercy (vers. 1-3). It had been preceded by a period of anxiety and alarm. In the beginning of the season they were threatened with the most grievous judgments which can befal a country, famine and war, and in their distress they had recourse to the measures which a sound faith in God prompted. They appealed to God, and they humbled themselves on account of sin. 1. They appealed to God, they addressed to him their vows and supplications. They believed in the special provi- dence of God, and in the direct cflicacy of prayer. When 202 THE FEAST OF TABERNACLES. a great national calamity was impending over them, they did not ascribe it to chance or fate ; they did not account for it by merely natural causes ; nor did they look merely to natural remedies for preventing or removing it. They knew well that it was God who had lifted up his arm to smite, and they knew also that God was willing to listen to their petition when they asked him to avert the stroke. Without omitting the use of other means, without neglecting to plough and sow, they placed their chief reliance on a direct appeal to God. They made vows, they formed holy resolutions ; they solemnly dedicated to God, and to the service of God, the abundance with which they hoped that he would be pleased still to bless them ; and they prayed ; they besieged his throne ; they were urgent and importunate in pleading with him. And now when prosperity has again returned to them, they do not regard the favourable change as an accident or a merely natural event. They recognise in it the hand of God, the special interposition of his good providence. They are not unmindful of the views which guided their conduct when their prospects were more gloomy. They acknowledge cheerfully the obligation of the vows which they then made. They bear emphatic testimony to the efficacy of the prayers they then offered. The praise that is due is waiting for God. The vows shall be performed. And so loudly and widely shall this instance of his faithfulness as the hearer of prayer be published, that it shall be an inducement and encouragement for all flesh to come to him. 2. To vows and prayers they had joined humble and penitent confession of their sins. They were sure that as it was God who threatened the judgment which they feared, so he did it not without a cause. They deserved the visita- tion of his displeasure ; they needed chastisement and correction. In particular, they remembered that this calamity THE FEAST OF TABERNACLES. 203 of a blighted harvest and one wasted by war, was one of those specially denounced against them in the law, in case of disloyalty and disobedience. They received the warning in- tended. They learned the lesson taught. They called to mind their multiplied transgressions, their apostasies and backslidings, and they acknowledged that they were right- eously smitten and might be justly condemned. But they knew that the Lord is gracious, that as he does not afflict willingly, so he willingly removes affliction when its end is gained. They had hopes, therefore, that if the threatening of judgment had its due effect, if it really humbled them and brought them back to God, the actual infliction of it might be spared. They could not, indeed, certainly reckon on that ; for even though their repentance might be sincere and thus the end of the dispensation might seem in so far to be attained, there might be other reasons, of wisdom, of justice, and even of kindness, for permitting the sentence of chastisement still to take effect. But they were sure that, if it were possible, the evil would pass from them. And when it did pass from them, they felt themselves warranted to regard this as a sign that the contrite confession which they had honestly made would be graciously accepted and the forgiveness which they had earnestly sought ob- tained. And the best proof that they were in fact warranted so to regard it, is to be found in the deep sense of sin, which even after the judgment was removed, remained still in their hearts. The mercy of God in suspending the threat- ened infliction of his wrath, does not make them indifferent about their sin or secure of its pardon. On the contrary the very greatness of that mercy, which their own hearts tell them is so undeserved, makes them feel more poignantly than ever the aggravated guilt of their offences and see more clearly than ever, that God only can cancel it by a direct and sovereign act of his free grace. " Iniquities," they 204 THE FEAST OF TABERNACLES. cry out, " Iniquities prevail against us. As for our transgres- sions, thou — for none else can, — thou shalt purge them away." II. The hlessing of a good harvest is regarded in this Psalm as subordinate to spiritual privileges, and chiefly val- uable because it is a sign of their continuance. " Blessed is the man whom thou choosest, and causest to approach unto thee, that he may dwell in thy courts : we shall be satisfied with thy goodness of thy house, even of thy holy temple" (ver. 4). This exclamation will appear very natural if we consider that the people are here supposed to be celebrating the feast of harvest or of tabernacles. It is a joyful occasion to the devout Jew especially to him who comes from a distance. One principal reason why he delights in the return of harvest is because it brings round propitiously the season of his stated visit to the holy temple. More particularly since an abundant harvest is expressly mentioned in the law as a special mark of the Lord's favour to his chosen people, the experience of such a blessing seems to give them more as- surance of their warrant to approach God and more confidence to dwell in his courts. Above all, when there has been rea- son to fear that there might be no harvest at all, or one scanty for drought or ravaged by war, it must be cause of peculiar joy that not only has God crowned the year with his goodness, but that he satisfies them also with the goodness of his house, even of his holy place. Were it otherwise, indeed ; were the temporal mercy severed from the spiritual privilege, it would be but of little value. A season of respite from judgment, the suspension of a threatened stroke, the removal of a punishment inflicted, would be of little use or benefit to any, were it not for the opportunity which is thus afforded of drawing nearer to God. The very design of chastisement is to convince you that there THE FEAST OF TABEENACLES. 205 is no blessedness in the creature, and the very design of its being stayed at any time is to enable you the more fully to taste and see how much blessedness there is in the Creator, You cannot suppose that in his dealings of tenderness with you, God has in view merely your temporal or bodily comfort ; or that the goodness with which he crowneth the year is de- signed merely to fill your mouths with food and gladness. 'No ; but by this seasonable kindness he would so melt your hearts and draw them to himself; he would so excite and enlarge your desires after him ; that you should be satisfied with nothing short of the goodness of his house, even of his holy place. Think not that when you have experienced any signal mercy at the hands of God, you are to rest contented as if you had received enough. That mercy is intended but to whet and stimulate your appetite for the great things which the Lord hath prepared for them that love him. III. The abundant harvest is regarded in this Psalm as the type and pledge of a great national, or rather world-wide, deliverance or salvation (vers. 5-8). It is viewed as forming part of those dealings of God, terrible as well as joyous, which are destined ultimately to place Israel in the centre of a renovated world (vers. 9-13). There may be, and probably there is, a reference here (ver. 5) to some victory which had been gained over a foreign foe threatening the crops, or to the suppression of some internal tumult or rebellion. The Lord is praised as having signalised his power both over the stormy elements of nature and over the stormier passions ot men. He has interposed on behalf of his people in a way fitted at once to strike terror into the inhabitants of earth's utmost bounds, and at the same time afford ground of trust and of confidence to all. It was one of the judgments denounced against the Jews for disobedience that the fruit of their land and of their labour should be destroyed or 206 THE FEAST OF TABERNACLES. consumed by strangers ; or that there should be destructive and consuming dissensions among themselves. When, therefore, in any season they enjoyed in peace a bountiful harvest, they could not but connect that blessing with the might of all the terrible acts by w^hich the Lord was wont to manifest himself as the God of their salvation. And they might well regard it as warranting the anticipation that he would continue, by similar acts, still more signally to acknow- ledge and crown their faith. For thus, from the eminence of this year of special au- tumnal fulness, the Psalm looks back, as it were, on the long series of the Lord's wonderful dealings with the chosen nation, and forward through the vista of ages yet to come, to the consummation of all these dealings, in their full and final salvation ; the issue which ushered in by terrible things in righteousness the answer to the church's prayers, to still all tumult and fill all the earth with joy. And thus the scene opens and expands before the rav- ished eye. The Psalmist, contemplating the rich beauty of the harvest spread out at his feet, and viewing it in connection with the whole scheme of the Lord's marvellous dealings with his people as the God of their salvation, sees all at once, in ecstatic vision, another and more glorious harvest substituted in its room. And instead of the contests and victories which had first endangered and then secured the harvest of the year, he beholds a struggle more momentous, a triumph more illustrious ; a far more signal interposition of the Lord ; and terror and joy more widely and universally diffused over all the globe. On this higher view I cannot now enlarge. But I may suggest some thoughts for your consideration. 1. That harvest-home sees the universal church delivered from the anxieties and fears of her present work and warfare. Contrast in this view, the beginning and the end of this THE FEAST OF TABERNACLES. 207 Psalm's experience ; the sowing and the reaping. In the beginning we have vows, prayers, penitence ; the fitting ex- ercises for a season of discouragement and doubt. In such a time, sowing in tears, let us vow, pledging our substance, all that we have or can do ; let us pray, abounding in supplica- tion ; let us repent, sin confessing. That is the only suitable attitude of the church, waiting, working and warring, and of you her members waiting, working, and warring. But the end is blessed ; when there is praise in paying the vow, gratitude in acknowledging the hearing of prayer, and much love springing out of much forgiveness ; calling upon all flesh to come to the Lord (vers. 1-3). 2. In that harvest-home the church is admitted to nearer fellowship with God and fuller enjoyment of God (ver. 4). It is for her a time of revival. After waiting, working, warring, through an uncertain spring and a hot midsummer, there comes to her the quiet rest of an autumnal shade under the wings of divine love satisfied and approving. And to you also that blessedness comes, after toil and trial and tempest. 3. Then also, in that harvest-home the church obtains an explanation of all that has been dark and distressing in the Lord's dealing with her (ver. 5) ; how by terrible things in righteousness he has been answering her as the very God of her salvation. Amid whatever noise and tumult may have caused the dwellers in the uttermost parts of the earth to be afraid at his tokens, the Lord then gives his church such evidence of his power and such an insight into his purposes, as enables her to hold fast her own confidence in him and to commend him as the confidence of all the ends of the earth, greatly to be feared, but yet causing universal joy- 4. That harvest-home is the time of an abundant out- pouring of the Spirit (vers. 9-13) ; the windows of heaven 208 THE FEAST OF TABERNACLES. being widely opened, and gracious showers copiously de- scending over all the world. That is the crowning blessing ; the fulness of the joy of the joyous feast of tabernacles. And it is a joy and blessing that may be yours individually now, as it is to be that of the universal church at last ; if only, entering into the spirit of this Psalm, you are willing to vow and pray and confess ; to dwell in God, and wait for God, and seek the gift of the Spirit ; in the full assurance of that other Psalm : " They that sow in tears shall reap in joy. He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him." THE PEACEABLE FRUIT OF RIGHTEOUSNESS. 209 XIV. THE PEACEABLE FEUIT OF RIGHTEOUSNESS. ' ' For we are consumed by thine anger, and by thy wrath are we troubled. Thou hast set our iniquities before thee, our secret sins in the light of thy countenance. For all our days are passed away in thy wrath : we spend our years as a tale that is told. The days of our years are threescore years and ten ; and if by reason of strength they be fourscore years, yet is their strength labour and sorrow ; for it is soon cut off, and we fly away. Who knoweth the power of thine anger ? even according to thy fear, so is thy wrath. So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom. Eeturn, 0 Lord, how long ? and let it repent thee concerning thy servants. 0 satisfy us early with thy mercy ; that we may rejoice and be glad all our days. Make us glad according to the days wherein thou hast afflicted us, and the years wherein we have seen evil. Let thy work appear unto thy servants, and thy glory unto their children. And let the beauty of the Lord our God be upon us : and establish thou the work of our hands upon us ; yea, the work of our hands establish thou it." — Psalm xc. 7-17. The occasion of this Psalm or prayer of Moses the man of God, is generally believed to have been the sad sentence pronounced upon the people for their refusal to go up to possess the land ; a sad sentence indeed, and in several views very severe. Consider the position of the people under it. First, instead of entering at once into the pro- mised inheritance, they are doomed to wander forty years in the wilderness. Secondly, they are told that within that period all above the age of twenty are to die. And thirdly, P 210 THE PEACEABLE FRUIT OF RIGHTEOUSNESS. their manner of life is to be very wearisome, marching up and down the dreary desert, or wearing out long intervals of dull repose. All the while they are to be ever freshly reminded of their sin and its sentence, by that holy moun- tain lifting its frowning head against them, as well as by grave after grave receiving the bodies of the dead. It is, one would say, a dreary enough prospect, with which images of glory, beauty, joy, ideas of cheerful work crowned with bright success, are anything but congenial. Nevertheless, the closing verses of this Psalm are singularly healthful and hopeful. They are so, because they are the peaceable fruit of righteousness which affliction always yields to them that are exercised thereby. Moses, the man of God, who composed the prayer, and those who joined in spirit with him, got this good of the Lord's chastening. Observe here — I. how they were exercised (vers. 7-15) ; and then II. what fruit their being exercised yielded (vers. 16, 17). I. Passing over the first six verses, which contrast generally the unchangeableness of God, as his people's dwelling-place, with their frailty and mortality, and so lay a deep and sure foundation for faith and hope as against sight and sense, I find in what follows (vers. 7-15) a double exercise of soul, in the way (1) of believing penitence (vers. 7-12), and (2) of believing appropriation and assurance (vers. 13-15). 1. Tliere is an exercise of penitential faith, or believing repentance ; for it is the same thing ; " For we are con- sumed by thine anger, and by thy wrath are we troubled. Thou hast set our iniquities before thee, our secret sins in the light of thy countenance. For all our days are passed away in thy wrath : we spend our years as a tale that is told. The days of our years are threescore years and ten ; and if by reason of strength they be fourscore years, yet is THE PEACEABLE FRUIT OF RIGHTEOUSNESS. 211 their strength labour and sorrow ; for it is soon cut off, and we fly away. Who knoweth the power of thine anger ? even according to thy fear, so is thy wrath. So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom " (vers. 7-12). These are the sentiments of genuine contrition. This sorrow is not the sorrow of the world which worketh death, but that godly sorrow which worketh repentance unto sal- vation, not to be repented of. Their sin is ever before them. They apprehend the guilt, they accept the punishment of their transgression. " Thine anger," " thy wrath " (ver. 7) ; " our iniquities," " our secret sins " (ver. 8) ; again, " thy wrath " (ver. 9) ; and yet again, " thine anger " (ver. 11) ; and once more, "thy wrath" (ver. 11) ; these are the thoughts which vex them. Thus, in all their vexing thoughts, God is uppermost ; he is all in all. Are we consumed 1 It is by thine anger. Are we troubled ] It is by thy wrath. Our iniquities 1 They are set before thee. Our secret sins ? They are in the light of thy countenance. If all our days are passed away, and we spend our years as a tale that is told ; it is in thy just indignation, Lord. Thou art righteous. "We have sinned. Surely God is again enthroned in the hearts of men who speak thus. They do not bewail their own sad case as if they had been hardly dealt with. They do not brood over the vanity that blights their fairest earthly hopes as if they had a right to complain of it, or to resent it. It is sin that grieves them, their sin against God. It is the just wrath of God lying upon them that weighs them down. Ah ! what was our guilt when we would not trust our God who brought us out of Egypt, and would not obey his voice, how inex- cusable, how aggravated ! And how insupportable the thought of his displeasure, his indignation ! — the displeasure, the indignation, not of a being who in fitful passion or personal resentment may strike a hasty blow and then relent, 212 THE PEACEABLE FRUIT OF RIGHTEOUSNESS. but of one whose holy, righteous, unchanging nature makes his holy indignation, and his calm, judicial sentence of righteous wrath all the more appalling ! For who knoweth the power of thine anger 1 Thou art the immutable, ever- lasting God. As such thou art to be feared. And accord- ing to thy fear so is thy wrath. But who knoweth thy fear, as the measure of thy wrath and of the power of thine anger 1 Who knoweth how thou, the Almighty, the Un- changeable, art to be feared 1 These workers of iniquity, have they that knowledge ? Alas ! is it not their fond dream that the arm of omnipotence may not reach them, that eternal justice may bend to them 1 And do you know how God is to be feared, and what according to his fear must be the power of his anger, you who in some hour of pensive thought muse on the sad vicissitudes of things, and call your musing piety 1 Among the ranks of that broken army which has so narrowly missed the prize of Canaan many are the forms which disappointment takes. Some are murmuring and fretting ; thinking that they do well to be angry ; nursing their smothered, sullen discontent. Others are lamenting their hard fate ; laying all the blame on their neighbours or on circumstances ; and meekly consenting to be victims. There are those who affect a stern and stoical fortitude ; while in the case of not a few, the torturing recollections of the past, the bitter experience of the present, and the dark outlook into the future, conspire to foster a sort of indolent despair. But who among them knoweth the power of thine anger 1 Ah ! if they were thoroughly alive to that, how would all other miseries shrink into insignificance ! Sin and wrath ; our sin and thy wrath ; these are the terrible reaUties ! Oh that we, and all our fellow-sufferers under the sentence which writes vanity on life and all its interests were made to know thy fear as measuring thy wrath ! Whether our days THE PEACEABLE FRUIT OF RIGHTEOUSNESS. 213 here be few or many ; a hundred, or fourscore, or but a span ; whether joyous or sad ; whatever may be the colour of the hours as they are fleeting fast away ; the one awful con- sideration is that we. Lord, are guilty and thou art just. Let our sin find us out. Let us know the terror of the Lord ; how fearful a thing it is to fall into the hands of the living God. Let us mark the flight of time as it is hurrying us on, all guilty as we are, to meet thine inexorable award. " So teach us to number our days that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom " (ver. 1 2). 2. With this exercise of believing penitence, the subsequent exercise of believing appropriation and assurance corre- sponds : " Eeturn, 0 Lord, how long 1 and let it repent thee concerning thy servants. 0 satisfy us early with thy mercy ; that we may rejoice and be glad all our days. Make us glad according to the days wherein thou hast afflicted us, and the years wherein we have seen evil " (vers. 13-15). Here again the suppliants are wholly occupied with the thought of God. They are not concerned about the suffering they have brought upon themselves, the loss of Canaan and the weary wilderness probation. That is not in their view. It is about the terms on which they are to be with God — his disposition towards them and their relation to him — that they are now solicitous. Let there be peace again between them and him. That is enough for them. Surely God is again enthroned in the hearts of men who think, and feel, and speak thus. Look for a little at their prayer. "Eeturn, 0 Lord, how long?" (ver. 13). It is thy departure from us ; it is thine absence from among us, that we lament and deprecate. Art thou leaving us 1 Hast thou left us 1 Nay, but return, 0 Lord ! Thou mightest justly have left us long ago. Thou mightest justly leave us now. But return, 0 Lord ! for we cannot now dispense with thy gracious presence. We cannot live without thee ! 214 THE PEACEABLE FRUIT OF RIGHTEOUSNESS. Once we cared little to have thee consciously and favour- ably present with us. We rather sought to get away from thee, and put thee far from us. We could be well content that there should be between thee and us the distance of cold and dead estrangement, or at the best, of decent com- promise. If it is otherwise now, it is to thee that we owe the gracious change. Thou hast taught us to know thee ; to know thee not only in the terror of thy wrath, but in the riches of thy grace, as the sure dwelling-place of thy people in all generations. Greatly art thou to be feared, in thine unchangeableness. From everlasting to everlasting thou art God. But how lovely art thou, and how loving ! Thou hast so opened to us thy heart, and so opened our hearts to thee, that we cannot now consent to let thee go. Return, 0 Lord ! once more visit us with the light of thy countenance ! There may be no change, we ask for no change, in thy deal- ings with us. Let us still have the wilderness for our earthly portion instead of Canaan. But so far " let it repent thee concerning thy servants," that we may realise a change in thy disposition toward us ; and may feel that thou art not now angry with us, but pacified towards us ; that we are no longer under thy just sentence of wrath, but find grace and favour in thine eyes. " 0 satisfy us early with thy mercy " (ver. 14). Yes ! It is thy mercy we seek. That will satisfy us. Let it be ours, 0 Lord. Let it be ours speedily, soon, early, now. Whatever fruit of it is to come in the shape of ulterior good may be postponed. But thy mercy itself ! Let it be early — now. Now in the early morning of that new pilgrimage on which we are entering ; now, in the early commencement of our subjection to vanity by reason of sin ; only let thy mercy be thus early ours. It is enough. We shall be satisfied. We ask no more. " We will rejoice and be glad all our days " (ver. 14). Do thou thus " make us glad ; " THE PEACEABLE FEUIT OF EIGHTEOUSNESS. 215 and we will testify, as we shall have good cause to testify, that this gladness, in the mere experience of thy present mercy, thy returning favour and our reconciliation and peace with thee, is more than an equivalent, far more than the fullest compensation, for " the days wherein thou hast afflicted us, and the years wherein we have seen evil " (ver. 15). II. Such being the double exercise of faith apprehending sin and wrath and faith appropriating assuredly love and mercy, to which affliction brought these men of God, we are prepared to expect and to understand the peaceable fruit of righteousness which it yielded to them ; as we have it set forth in the close of the Psalm. " Let thy work appear unto thy servants, and thy glory unto their children. And let the beauty of the Lord our God be upon us : and establish thou the work of our hands upon us ; yea, the work of our hands establish thou it" (vers. 16, 17). The three peti- tions here presented point to work, or entering into Avork, as being that peaceable fruit of righteousness. The first speaks of God's work. The third speaks of their own work. The second, or intermediate one, brings out the character which is indispensable for entering aright into either of these works, or into both. 1. The Lord's work comes first. These praying men of God, penitent and believing, ask him to give them and their children a sight of that, and an insight into its glory. This is what is uppermost in their minds. It is their first and cliief concern. And is not the fact of its being so the clear proof of their being now on a gracious footing with God, and of a gracious mind toward him? For it is not the way of nature, but the way of grace. Naturally we give precedence and priority to our own work rather than to the Lord's. We think of our work appearing to him rather than of his work 216 THE PEACEABLE FRUIT OF EIGHTEOUSNESS. appearing to us ; of our goodness rather than of his glory. We would have our work acceptable in his sight rather than his work acceptable in our sight. Something in us or about us, some good done by us, or some good wrought in us, we would have God to look upon with complacency ; so far at least as to be induced by it to look upon us with compassion. That is the way of nature. There is grace, and sure evidence of grace, when the Lord's work, on the contrary, takes the first place in our esteem. Now we see that it is not his beholding our work, but our beholding his, that alone can be of any avail to save us. And seeing this, we long for fuller discoveries of that saving work of the Lord ; and a deeper, truer, more experimental apprehension or sense of its worthi- ness of him and its suitableness to us — in a word, of his glory in it : " Let thy work appear unto thy servants, and thy glory unto their children " (ver. 1 6). It is a prayer for the Holy Spirit ; and for the Holy Spirit as discharging his double office ; on the one hand, opening up to us more and more from without, or as it were, objec- tively, through the instrumentality of the word, the work of the Lord ; giving us larger and loftier views of its character and nature ; " Let thy work appear unto us : " and on the other hand, opening up in us, within, and as it were, sub- jectively, by an immediate touching of our inner man, the eye of the mind, the soul, the heart ; so as to make it more capable of not only understanding the work of the Lord more clearly in all its bearings, but perceiving, recognising, and appreciating, with livelier sympathy, his glory in. it : " Let thy work appear unto thy servants, and thy glory unto their children " (ver. 1 6). For it is not enough that his work appears, unless his glory in it appears also. Hence there must be a double action, so to speak, of the Holy Spirit. He acts by means of outward revelation, withdrawing more and more, through his blessing on your study of the Scriptures, THE PEACEABLE FRUIT OF RIGHTEOUSNESS. 217 the veil that hides the wondrous working of the Lord. And he acts by means of inward renewal, intensifying your new born and new created faculty of discerning spiritual things, so that you see, more and more, in all the wondrous working of the Lord, his wondrous glory. The petition, therefore, of this 16th verse betokens a gracious state of things, as between God and the people who with Moses make it their own ; and a gracious frame of mind on their part towards God. Thy work, they say, 0 Lord, and not ours, is Avhat alone is worthy of our regard. And by the help of thy Spirit, we would see in it thy glory ; thy glorious character ; thy glorious self : " Let thy work appear unto thy servants, and thy glory unto their children" (ver. 16). Ah! they might well feel, thy work might have appeared to us ere now ; and it has appeared to us so far as to leave us without excuse. But we saw it not. We saw not thy glory in it. We might have seen both. The glory of tliy rich redeeming love we might have seen in thy remembrance of us when we were in Egypt. The glory of thy sin-hating and sin-punishing righteousness we might have seen in the lamb slain for our ransom. The glory of thy power we might have seen in the Egyptian miracles and the passage through the Red Sea ; the glory of thine avenging justice and righteous judgment in the overthrow of Pharaoh and all his host ; the glory of thy holy sovereignty in the awful lawgiving at Sinai ; the glory of thy forbearance and bountifulness in the abundant manna, the water from the smitten rock ; the earnest of final conquest in the victory over Amalek. All this work of thine, and thy glory in it ; thy glorious character, thy glorious self, we might have seen, had not our eyes been blinded and our hearts hardened. Alas ! we cared but little about thy work, or thy glory, or thyself, 0 Lord ! But all that we shut out from our view then we would 218 THE PEACEABLE FRUIT OF RIGHTEOUSNESS. see now. Let us see it, Lord, so as to make us more and more ashamed of our not having seen it before ; of our having been so insensible to it as to do great injustice to thee in our thoughts of thee ; misunderstanding and misconstruing thy ways ; murmuring against thy deahngs with us ; distrusting thee ; counting thy commandments grievous ; questioning thy power to fulfil thine own word and oath. Could we have so wronged thee if thy work had then appeared to us, and thy glory in it 1 That we may not so wrong thee now, show us thy manner of working ; and show us all its glory, as glori- fying thee in saving us : " Let thy work appear unto thy servants, and thy glory unto their children " (ver. 1 6). In the experience of Moses, and of all like-minded with him, this prayer, as regards this petition, was fully answered. They had their full share of the hardships of the wilderness. Its vicissitudes and judgments, its calamities and crimes affected them even more than the callous and careless multi- tude ; who have always a wonderful facility of accommoda- tion to circumstances. Men of God, however, cannot thus fall in with the course of the world. On the contrary, they cannot but be sensitively alive to all the hindrances and annoyances which it puts in the way of the march to Canaan. But all the while the Lord is working. All along the weary road and its weary trials, these men of God discover and per- ceive this ; and they glorify the Lord accordingly. How the Lord works, and how glorious he is in working they come to see more and more, as they learn more and more to link on his present working in his providence over them with his past working in redemption for them. Light more and more breaks in upon them ; and with light, trust and love. They learn to justify God, and to believe assuredly that, as he worketh always, so in all his working he is always to be glori- fied : " Let thy work appear unto thy servants, and thy glory unto their children" (ver. 16). THE PEACEABLE FRUIT OF EIGHTEOUSNESS. 219 How much more should you learn the lesson of this peti- tion ! For what is the work to which you have to point ? And what is God's glory in if? It is not any Egyptian deliverance, or wilderness provision, that you have to bear upon your minds when you offer this prayer, " Let thy work appear unto thy servants." What work 1 The work finished on the cross of Christ ; the work of divine propitiation and reconciliation. "And thy glory in it ;" such glory as may prompt that blessed argument of confidence : " He that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not also with him freely give us all things f 2. The second petition is naturally suggested by the first, and forms a fitting introduction to the third. It is a prayer for personal holiness. It represents that holiness as being intimately connected, on the one hand, with the Lord's causing his Avork, and his glory in it, to appear unto us ; and on the other hand, with our being enabled so to work our- selves as to warrant our asking God to establish the work of our hands : " Let the beauty of the Lord our God be upon us." It is the beauty of holiness that is here prayed for. It is the beauty of the Lord ; the beauty of the Lord's own holi- ness ; the holy beauty which belongs essentially to the Lord alone, but of which he permits you to ask that you may be yourselves partakers. This, indeed, is the design and end of all the Lord's deal- ings with you, when he humbles you, and proves you, and chastens you ; not for his own pleasure, but for your profit, that you may " be partakers of his holiness " (Heb. xii. 10). For this end " exceeding great and precious promises are given unto you, that by them you may be partakers of the divine nature" (2 Peter i. 4). All this is implied in the petition, " Let the beauty of the Lord our God be upon us." You ask, for yourselves and for your children, that you may see the Lord's work, and his glory in it. You ask also that, 220 THE PEACEABLE FRUIT OF RIGHTEOUSNESS. " beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, you may be changed into the same image, from glory to glory, by the Spirit of the Lord." You desire to " behold the beauty of the Lord" as you " dwell in his house, and inquire in his temple." You desire to be transformed into his beauteous image ; to be like-minded and like-hearted with him ; to see light in his light ; to love as he loves ; and be holy as he is holy. This indeed is the secret, at once of your getting an ever- increasing faculty of insight into the work of the Lord and his glory in it ; and of your being yourselves created anew in Christ Jesus unto good works ; such good works as you can ask the Lord to establish. It is the secret charm of sympathy. Let thy beauty be upon us. Let our nature shine in holy beauty like thine own. Give us a fellowship and fellow- feeling with thyself in the beauty of thine own holiness. Then will thy work more and more appear unto us, and thy glory in it. We shall enter with growing intelligence, as we enter with growing sympathy, into the whole plan and pur- pose of thy wondrous work of salvation. We shall better understand what thou art doing. Thy forbearance in so long sparing the guilty and waiting still to be gracious ; thy terrible judgments, giving presage of wrath to come ; thy discipline in the training of thy saints ; the march of thy gospel ; the movements of thy Spirit; the progress of thy cause; thy hand controlling all events ; thy finger touching dead souls that they may live ; above all, thy free and sovereign way of justifying the ungodly who believe in Christ. Ah ! Lord God ! were thy beauty upon us ; were we like thee ; were we wholly in thy interest and on thy side ; were we thine in full sympathy, thine with all our heart, how would we delight always, everywhere, anywhere, to be tracing thee in thy work- ing among the families of men ! And how would thy grace, and wisdom, and righteousness, and truth, and love — in a word, thy glory, as manifested in it all, become more and THE PEACEABLE FRUIT OF EIGHTEOUSNESS. 221 more conspicuous and illustrious in our wondering eyes. " Let thy work appear unto thy servants, and thy glory unto their children " (ver. 16). And then, on the other hand, let us consider, how, by the same beautifying and sanctifying process, we may be fitted not only for entering, as believers and sympathisers, into the work of the Lord, but for entering into it also as fellow-workers with him in it. Thy work, 0 Lord, may thus become our work ; and all our work may thus be thy work ; our only work being to carry forward thy work. 3. Therefore, Lord, we may venture to append this third petition to our prayer : "And establish thou the work of our hands upon us ; yea, the work of our hands establish thou it" (ver. 17, 2d clause). For on their work as well as on themselves the penitent and believing people of God, led on by Moses, the man of God, may invoke the divine blessing. And in virtue of that blessing, their work acquires a character of stability, permanence, endurance, contrasting strangely with the vanity of their wilderness state. Yes ! every work of theirs may now be established in the Lord. Even if it is a work that seems to belong to their wilderness state of vanity, and to that alone ; let it be the daily gathering of the manna, or the carrying of water from the rock and its stream for ordinary household uses, — still it is a work which they can ask the Lord to establish, having first looked to the Lord's own work in connection with it, and besought the Lord to let his own holy beauty be upon them in the doing of it. For there is no appointed task ; no necessary or lawful engagement ; no drudgery, no toil, no menial service ; no homely office, no domestic care ; no study, no scholarly pur- suit of learning ; no professional discharge of duty ; in the shop, or the exchange, or the market ; in the office, at the bar, on the bench, in the senate ; there is nothing you can at any time be honestly and with a clear conscience doing, let it 222 THE PEACEABLE FEUIT OF RIGHTEOUSNESS. have ever so close, and seemingly exclusive reference to the concerns of this passing world ; which you may not ask the Lord to establish, if only you do the work as from, and for, and to, the Lord ; ' seeking in the doing of it, to see his work and his glory as bearing upon it and to have his holy beauty shining through you in it. It may and it must, if you go about it in such a spirit, yield to you some permanent as well as peaceable fruit of righteousness. You come away from it and out of it, yourselves confirmed and established in your faith and loyalty and love. And it will follow you at last when you rest from your labours. Ye shall in no wise lose your reward. Therefore, brethren, " whether ye eat or drink or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God." And if all this is true when you make what might appear earthly work heavenly, wilderness work divinely beautiful, your own work the Lord's, how much more must it be so when you make the Lord's work yours when the work directly tends to the hallowing of his name, the coming of his kingdom, the doing of his will. Ah ! there is a work here below which, while the world passeth away and the lust thereof, you may ask the Lord to establish. For he that doeth the will of God abideth for ever. See that Israelitish man, or woman, or girl, or boy, running home to tell a brother, or sister, or parent, or child, of the preparation going on for the slaying of the paschal lamb ; or eagerly persuading the wounded and the dying to behold the healing serpent lifted up before their eyes ! Listen to that anxious trembling voice, warning a friend, a neighbour, against the yawning gulph in which the rebels are swallowed quick ! Who are these little ones who are announcing so gladly to all they meet the first sounding of the trumpet at the joyous feast of tabernacles ? Mark that hoary head winning from the mouth of babes and sucklings most sweet and perfect praise. The wilderness may be dreary. Life in it THE PEACEABLE FKUIT OF RIGHTEOUSNESS. 223 may be like a dream, a tale. It may look as if nothing, I can turn my hand to were worth a moment's thought ; so fleeting is everything, and so false ! I build a tent ; and to-morrow's blast sweeps it away. I plant a gourd ; and it withers in a night. I cling to one who is the light of my eyes, the desire, the darling of my heart ; she droops and dies ; and I am fain to bury her out of my sight. I choose a friend ; and he for- sakes me. I say, Here while I rest awhile ; and lo ! as I say it, there goes the ark, and I must shift my quarters to go along with it. Yes ! It is a weary enough pilgrimage ; so unsettled ; so unsteadfast ; so insecure. And I cannot, I dare not, ask the Lord to establish these things. I may not arrest one winged moment in the flight of time. I may not fondly grasp the loved one leaving me, and bid him tarry with, me a little, a very little longer. Ah, then ! what is life worth in this desert, and with these wanderings 1 It is better to die than to live thus. There is no work or desire anywhere beneath that beating sun that is not wholly vanit3\ Not so, brother ! Not so, thou mourning sister ! There is a work of God which he will show you ; a work very glorious — to thee to live is Christ. There is a work of thine which he will establish ; thy work of faith and labours of love. Come, be not as those 'who are ever going from Dan to Beersheba, crying that all is barren. There is a business going on in the earth that may well rouse all your energies, and interest your whole hearts. Come. See what God is doing ! Cast yourself into the work which he has on hand. Be no more idle, "desponding, dreaming, drooping, woeful, wan, like one forlorn," as if God were doing nothing in this world, and had nothing for you to do in it, in his name or on his be- half. Come. Join heart and soul ; voice, hands, feet ; with all your manhood, renovated, quickened, gladdened by God's grace, join in this joyous closing prayer of Moses, the man of God : " Let thy work appear unto thy servants, and thy glory 224 THE PEACEABLE FEUIT OF EIGHTEOUSNESS. unto their children. And let the beauty of the Lord our God be upon us : and establish thou the work of our hands upon us ; yea, the work of our hands establish thou it." Observe the work of the Lord and his glory in it. Much stress islaid on that in the experimental parts of Scripture. The Psalms are full of it (xl. 5 ; xcii. 4; Ixxvii. 10; cv. 4 ; cxi. 2). And the neglect of this duty is pointedly and emphatically condemned both by the Psalmist (Ps. xxviii. 5)/ and still more by the prophet Isaiah (v. 8-12).^ The contrast here is striking. It brings out the utter incompatibility of these two things, as objects of regard ; the world's work and God's work. If you give heed to the one, you neglect the other. The world's work may be business (vers. 8-10) or pleasure (vers. 11, 12) ; avarice or luxury ; hasting to be rich, or say- ing, Let us eat and drink, and be merry. Whichever it be, it unfits you, if you go into it, for regarding the work of the Lord. And yet, after all, what is there in the world that is really worthy of your regard but the work of the Lord ? What else is there that has an abiding character, or is of permanent value 1 All things are full of change. But the work of the Lord continues ever the same. All is vanity. But the work of the Lord is glorious. And he is glorious in it. Come, behold the working of the Lord. Link and fasten on your own work to the Lord's. Iden- tify your work with his. It is only in so far as you do so, that you can ask the Lord to establish it. True, in one 1 " Because they regard not the works of the Lord, nor the opera- tions of his hand, he shall destroy them, and not build them up. " 2 " Woe unto them that join^house to house, that lay field to field, till there be no place, that they may be placed alone in the midst of the earth ! . . . . Woe unto them that rise up early in the morning that they may follow strong drink ; that continue until night till Avine inflame them ! And the harp, and the viol, the tabret, and pipe, and wine are in their feasts : but they regard not the work of the Lord, neither consider the operation of his hands." THE PEACEABLE FKUIT OF -RIGHTEOUSNESS. 225 aspect of it, the work of the Lord is exclusively his own. What he is doing in his providence he does alone. You can but submit and say, " It is the Lord." What he does in his grace, he does alone. You can but say, " Lord, I believe, help thou mine unbelief." But in another aspect of it, his work is such that it may become yours. He tells you what he is doing on the earth, that you may join yourself with him in the doing of it. He takes you into his counsels and un- folds to you his manner of working, that you may frame and fashion your manner of working in accordance with his. You are to work the works of God. How 1 The Jews once asked, and they got for answer : " This is the work of God, that ye believe on him whom God hath sent." That is your first work ; your first participation in God's work ; that ye be- lieve in him whom he has sent ; your believing corresponding to his sending. Christ being to you what he is to the Father, believe in the Lord Jesus Christ and be saved. Would you have the Lord to establish that work ? See that you make sure of it yourselves. Let there be no unsteadfastness, no doubt or hesitation, about your working thoroughly this w^ork of God ; believing on him whom he has sent. And then let all your subsequent working, of whatever sort, be in harmony with his working. Let it become part and parcel of it. In all you think and say and do, let it be God working in, and by, and through you. Then, no thought, or word, or work of yours will perish or be lost. The Lord will establish it. Vain thoughts, idle words, worldly deeds, he cannot establish. They are as grass. But thoughts that grasp his thoughts ; words that echo his words ; deeds that aspire to fellowship in his own great deeds of love ; Lord, thou canst, thou wilt establish these. Oh ! then, let my thoughts, words, deeds, be ever thus godly, thus godlike. All this implies your having the beauty of the Lord upon you, the beauty of his holiness, " Be ye holy, for I am holy," Q 226 THE PEACEABLE FRUIT OF RIGHTEOUSNESS. For it is only as being thus holy, partakers of his holiness, seeing things from his point of view, looking at them in the same light in which he looks at them, that you can hope, either to see his work so as to understand it, and sympathise with it, and appreciate his glory in it. And only thus can you make your work such as he will establish. Wherefore follow after holiness, without which no man shall see the Lord. SECURITY IN THE MIDST OF DANGEE. 227 XV. SECUEITY IN THE MIDST OF DANGERS " He that dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress : mj' God ; in him will I trust." — Psalm xci. 1, 2. The first thing which strikes one in meditating on this psalm is the accumulation of its descriptions of danger, — the thick throng of its images of terror. Assuredly, the safety which it celebrates does not consist in any exemption or immunity from the hazard of disaster or of death. Let the causes of uneasiness and alarm which it assumes be enumerated : — First, generally, the distress is such that a retreat is re- quired. And it must be one that can serve the threefold purpose of a cool shade under oppressive heat ; a safe harbour from pursuing foes ; a strong defence against an assailing force : " He that dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress " (vers. 1, 2). Spent with bloody toil beneath the fierce rays of a burning sun, closely followed by exasperated hosts, disabled from making an open stand against them — we welcome a post which may afford us the means at once of refreshment, of repose, and of resistance — a secret place which may be a shadow, a refuge, a fortress, all in one. ' Preached at the ordination of the Rev. R. B. "Watson as Chaplain to the Forces in the Crimean "War, Nov. 1854. 228 SECURITY IN THE MIDST OF DANGER. Then, more particularly, different elements or instruments of peril are specified. " The snare of the fowler " — such nets and pitfalls as might make the heljiless chicken fain to cower under the hen's motherly wings ; — " the noisome pestilence ;" — the false plotting and stratagem which no skill in war or policy can evade, which " the shield and buckler of truth " alone can withstand (vers. 3, 4) ; " terror by night," " the arrow flying by day," " pestilence walking in darkness," " destruction wasting at noon-day " (vers. 5, 6) ; these are separately formidable enough trials. Concurring and con- spiring together, what heart may they not appal 1 All the more appalling are they because their ravages are actually witnessed. The risks are seen to be real. The fell messengers of wrath are seen doing their work all around. The plain is strewed with their victims. " A thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand" (ver. 7). By thousands, by tens of thousands, thy comrades are help- lessly falling. The circumstances are all instinct with terror. I^or is this all. When a new and fresh start is to be made from the place of security which has been reached, the cry is still a cry of alarm. " Thou hast made the Lord which is my refuge, even the Most High, my habitation " (ver. 9). True. But not even thus or thereafter is there any abate- ment of thy danger. Evil is still in wait for thee ; plagues are still near thee (ver. 10). The road thou hast to travel is rough and stony (ver. 12). Lions, adders, young lions, dra- gons— strong beasts of prey, and crawling, stinging serpents — frequent the country through which thy path lies (ver. 1 3). Thy course is a hazardous fight, a hazardous journey, to the last. It is not from dangers, but in the midst of dangers, that thou art safe. The conditions of safety pointed out in this psalm corre- spond to the circumstances of danger which it enumerates. Let the pecuHar structure of the psalm be here noted. It SECURITY IN THE MIDST OF DANGER. 229 presents the aspect of one believer comforting another, one servant of the Lord encouraging another ; the person thus comforted and encouraged owning the truth addressed to him ; and the Lord himself coming in at the close, to confirm the assurance which the first party in the dialogue has been en- deavouring to impart to a weary and fainting brother. The psalm opens oracularly with a general statement or testimony, evidently uttered by one speaking from experience, and desirous of making his experience available on behalf of some sufferer in the same strife with evil by which he has himself been tried : " He that dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty " (ver. 1). The sufferer thus addressed responds in faith to the appeal. I believe — may the Lord help mine unbelief ! I will put to the proof what thou, as a witness for the Lord, one of the cloud of witnesses, tellest me of the secret place of the Most High and the shadow of the Almighty : " I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress : my God ; in him will I trust " (ver. 2). Upon this, the first speaker proceeds to draw out in detail the general declaration he has given forth. Amid the secret ambushes and open perils of war ; amid the risks of disease and consuming dearth — let the sword, the arrow, the plague be doing their worst — still, brother, be of good courage, thou art safe : " Surely he §hall deliver thee from the snare of the fowler, and from the noisome pestilence. He shall cover thee with his feathei:^, and under his wings shalt thou trust : his truth shall be thy shield and buckler. Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night ; nor for the arrow that flieth by day ; nor for the pestUence that walketh in darkness ; nor for the destruction that wasteth at noon-day. A thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand ; but it shall not come nigh thee. Only with thine eyes shalt thou behold and see the reward of the wicked" (vers. 3-8). And not in the 230 SECUEITY IN THE MIDST OF DANGEE. battle only — not for the brief space of a stormy fight, or an agitating campaign, art thou safe. I speak to thee, and speak to thee comfortably, from my own experience also, with refer- ence to the terrors of the way, as well as of the war. I can tell thee what my God, whom thou takest to be thy God, will do for thee, when thy foot stumbles on the hard stones, and when monsters and reptiles come out to assail thee : " Because thou hast made the Lord which is my refuge, even the Most High, thy habitation ; there shall no evil befall thee, neither shall any plague come nigh thy dwelling. For he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways. They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest thou dash thy foot against a stone. Thou shalt tread upon the lion and adder; the young lion and the dragon shalt thou trample under feet " (vers. 9-13). And if my testimony from experi- ence will not suffice to reassure thee, listen to the voice of my God, who is also thine. Let us both keep silence ; let our God himself speak. Hear what he says to me, brother, concerning thee whom I have been trying to strengthen — yes, concerning thee, if thou art still of the same mind as when thou wast ready to " say of the Lord, He is my refuge, and my fortress : my God ; in him will I trust," — " Because he hath set his love upon me, therefore will I deliver him : I will set him on high, because he hath known my name. He shall call upon me, and I will answer him : I will be with him in trouble ; I will deliver him, and honour him. With long life will I satisfy him, and show him my salva- tion" (vers. 14-16). Three parties, therefore, speak in this psalm — the witness for God, the brother in peril, and God himself. I. The witness for God, the sympathising friend of the party exposed to danger, speaking from his own experience, declares generally : " He that dwelleth in the secret place of SECURITY IN THE MIDST OF DANGER. 231 the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty " (ver. 1). And again more pointedly, assuring his brother himself individually of protection, he gives the reason : " Because thou hast made the Lord which is my refuge, even the Most High, thy habitation " (ver. 9). To be dwelling in the secret place of the Most High, this is what is first of all and above all essentially required. But where is the secret place of the Most High 1 Where but within the vail, where the covenant of peace is ratified, and things hid from the wise and prudent are revealed unto babes 1 Into that secret place you may freely enter ; and in it you may permanently dwell. Christ leads you in, rending the vail, that is to say, his flesh. Sprinkling you with his own precious blood, he takes you along with him as he passes from the cross, from the grave, to the bosom of his Father in heaven. And as he now abides there evermore, so you also abide with him there continually. There he reveals to you the Father ; he gives you an insight into the heart of the Most High. And bidding you know and believe that the Father loveth you even as he loveth him, he asks you to make this God most high your habitation, as he is his : your home, as he is his ; the home of your full confidence ; the home of your warm affection ; the home of your habitual resort ; the home of your familiar fellowship. Dwelling there, you acquaint yourself with God and are at peace ; you know his name and put your trust in him. You are no more servants merely, not knowing what your master doeth. You are friends of the Son ; and all things which he hears of his Father he makes known to you. The secret of the Lord, the secret of his gracious covenant, the secret of his moral government, the secret of his whole providential administra- tion, is with you as with the righteous, as with them that fear him. " Your life is hid with Christ in God." Hence things without, events happening around you, do 232 SECURITY IN THE MIDST OF DANGER. not take you aback or by surprise. They may be dark and terrible ; but over you and all around you, between you and them, is your dwelling-place, the Most High, the Almighty overshadowing you. Wherever you go, you carry a charmed atmosphere, wrapping you close round on every side. It is the atmosphere of your new home. It is the Lord himself who is round about you, as the mountains are round about Jerusalem. The scenes which you have to witness, or in which you have to bear, a part, may be such as to try you in many ways. The violence and fraud of men, the visitations of God, may be making sad havoc before your eyes. But you, all the while, still dwelling in the secret place of the Most High, may fall back on what you are ever learning there. You may thus be reassured when at any time " your feet are almost gone, your steps have well-nigh slipped." Three lessons, in particular, are taught in that inner school, for your encouragement, by him who, on the ground of his own entrance, introduces you into it, and moves you to know and trust, as he by experience has learned to do, the Lord who is his Father and your Father, his God and your God. I. " His truth shall be thy shield and buckler " (ver. 4). This is the first lesson you learn in that home of yours. You learn that God is true, true to himself, and true to you. The Son has been teaching you this. Causing you to dwell, as he dwells himself, in the bosom of the Father, he discovers to you, as none else could, the Father's faithfulness. He is himself the manifestation of it. In him, and in his mediatorial work, it is seen that God is true, true to his threatenings of judgment, true to his purposes and promises of mercy. In him, moreover, and in his human historj'^, it is seen that God is true also to them who trust in him, faithful and just to hear their cry and deliver them out oi SECURITY IN THE MIDST OF DANGER. 233 all their troubles. This truth of God, thus seen in Jesus, you come to know when you in him are dwelling in the secret place of the Most High, and abiding under the shadow of the Almighty 1 And the knowledge of it may well shield your breast against the entrance of those doubts, misgivings, fears, which, hke thick-flying arrows, may be assailing you. Men may be false, but God is true. The heathen may rage, and the people may imagine a vain thing ; still God is true. The world may seem to be out of course, the earth may be shaken ; nevertheless God is true ; no word of his can fail, least of all that word, " I have set my King on my holy hill of Zion." And to you personally his faithfulness is pledged. For a time there may be many troubles, anxious thoughts, disquieting cares, arrows of human cruelty and craft, the sharp arrows even of the Almighty, all but piercing thee through. But God is true, and his truth is pledged for thy protection amid them all. 2. Another lesson which you learn in your new dwelling- place is to see the reward of the wicked : " Only with thine eyes shalt thou behold and see the reward of the wicked " (ver 8). It is a lesson which can be learned only at home, only Avhen you are at home in Christ with God. So David found wlien his spirit was chafed as he witnessed the unequal lots of good and evil men on the earth. He saw the ungodly prospering more than others, not troubled like other men, in life or in death ; and the godly tempted to complain that they had cleansed their hearts in vain, so plagued were they all the day long. " When I thought to know this," he cries, " it was too painful for me, until I went into the sanctuary of God ; then understood I their end " (Ps. Ixxiii. 16, 17). It is in the sanctuary of God, in his secret place, at home with him, that you are taught to see in a right spirit, to see in its true light, the reward of the wicked. For, out- 234 SECURITY IN THE MIDST OF DANGER. side of that school, in the open world, you see much in the way of the wicked, and in the way of God with the wicked, to trouble and tempt you. You may be tempted to impati- ence, when it seems as if all went well with them, and all ill with you. Or you may be tempted to triumph over them, when retribution unequivocally overtakes them. In self- righteous complacency, or in unholy exultation, you may be- hold and see the reward of the wicked. No such lesson, certainly, do you learn when you are, in Christ, at home with God. The lesson which you do learn is the lesson of steadfast loyalty to God himself, and to his righteous adminis- tration ; a lesson reconciling you to his forbearance Avhen he tolerates evil men and suffers them to prosper for a time, and preparing you to acquiesce when they receive their reward at last. It is not easy rightly to " behold and see the reward of the wicked." When the temptation to impatience of their prosperity, and, what is apt to go along with that, the temptation to triumph over their fall and fate, are overcome, another and an opposite temptation may beset you. How terrible to witness the calamities which the lies and passions of wicked men bring not only on themselves, but on their helpless victims ! To stand where a thousand are fall- ing at your side, and ten thousand at your right hand ; to think of fields dyed with blood, and pale corpses lying all unburied on the plain, because some crafty tyrant or mad despot has chosen to let slip the dogs of war ; to look on while successive troops of men, guiltless of the injustice of the quarrel, yet, alas ! too many of them wicked and ungodly notwithstanding, are hurried in promiscuous croAvds to meet their final doom ; it is too much. The fire burns ; the fire of your indignation against the author of these wrongs; the fire also, the suppressed and smothered fire, of a most painful questioning. Can such things be, and the Most High still SECUEITY IN THE MIDST OF DANGER. 235 reign, all-merciful, almighty 1 It is too painful for you, till you go into the sanctuary of God. Only then, only when in the midst even of such scenes, you feel that you are in the sanctuary of God, that you dwell with Christ in God, only then can you be still. And then you can be still. God's ways with these multitudes of dying men may vex you, for you know them not. But God's way with Christ, which you do know, silences you. The cross, seen now by you from the inner standing- point which you occupy, dwelling in the secret place of the Most High ; the cross, whose marks the Son bears even now in the Father's bosom ; the cross, through which alone you are at home with God, proclaims that your God is a consum- ing fire. His wrath burned against sin when his own beloved Son was the sin-bearer. It burns against the sin of which the earth is full. And if he who did not restrain that wrath when it was to consume the holy one, lets it loose now among the guilty, the dire effects may appal you ; but you believe and hope still. Solemn awe fills your soul, but not distrust or doubt. 3. One other ground of confidence does the witness for God suggest to you, the party with whom he sympathises as a friend. He has learned himself, and he would have you to learn, being at home with God, that there are members of the family not involved in your peril, who yet are deeply and affectionately interested in your safety : " For he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways. They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest thou dash thy foot against a stone. Thou shalt tread upon the lion and adder : the young lion and the dragon shalt thou trample under feet" (ver. 11-13). The angels, as well as you, — the angels before you, — have made the Lord their refuge, their dwelling-place, their habi- tation, their home. They constitute the elder brotherhood. 236 SECURITY IN THE MIDST OF DANGER. Their own position is safe ; their own path is plain. Once indeed they had to sustain a shock ; but it was once for all. The Father bringing in the first-begotten into the world said, " Let all the angels of God worship him." Faithful among the faithless, amid the fall and ruin of too many of their comrades, these elect and blessed spirits owned the Son and became sons themselves. Ever since, their way has been un- interruptedly upward and onward ; no stone to hinder their progress ; no lion or adder to alarm or to sting. But not the less on that account do they feel an interest in you ; rather all the more. For, first of all, they feel for the Son himself, whom at the Father's call they are always worshipping. They feel for him, as they see him treading, with bloody feet and bruised hands, the path by which, himself going before you, he is to bring you to this glory. It is a rough road. Eav- enous beasts and foul reptiles haunt it. And he who toils and sweats, and bleeds along it, is the Son whom they adore. Eight gladly do they receive the charge to keep him in all his ways, — to bear him up in their hands, lest he dash his foot against a stone. But who is this who tells the Son of God that his Father thus gives his angels charge over him 1 Is it the tempter in the wilderness 1 Is it the devil who would fain persuade him to cast himself from the pinnacle of the temple, as if he were coming gloriously in the clouds of heaven to show himself to Israel 1 Nay, this is an evasion of the road, rough with stones and beset by young lions and dragons. And to evade that road, choosing a shorter, an easier, or a brighter path, would be to tempt the Lord his God. But the devil leaves him ; and behold angels come and minister unto him. And it may well be beHeved that one of them whispers in his fainting ear the very Scripture the devil has dared to quote for his purpose ; and gladly reminding SECURITY IN THE MIDST OF DANGER. 237 him that, if not to exempt him from the rough way, yet at least to sustain him in it, the hosts of heaven are to wait upon him by the appointment of the Lord Most High. He has but to pray to his Father at any time, and he shall presently give him more than twelve legions of angels. In his agony there will appear an angel unto him from heaven strengthening him ; at his resurrection angels will be waiting ; and by angels he will be welcomed as he passes into the heavens. Such charge does God give his angels over him. Is it from heaven, or from hell, that an assurance like this comes to you 1 Does it come to you when you are shrinking from the rocky road, frequented by wild beasts and reptiles ; when you would fain avoid some path of present duty because it is so humble, or so hard. Does it come as a suggestion, that surely a more royal road, or at least a more saintly way, ought to be found for you ; — that if the promise of heavenly and angelic guardianship is to be of use to you at all, it should be to lift you at once triumphantly over the ground, and not merely to help you, stumbling and frightened at every step, along ? It is no friend of yours, or of your God, who thus insidiously deals with you ; certainly not one who has himself made the Lord his refuge. For whoever dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High, whether it be the Son himself, or any one of those who own and worship the Son, knows well that to the redeemed of a fallen race the path which leads to glory can never be otherwise than rough with stones and haunted by wild foes, — no, nor to their Eedeemer either. "For it became him for whom are all things, and by whom are all things, in bringing many sons unto glory, to make the Cap- tain of their salvation perfect through sufferings." And if the Captain, then his followers also. It must be so. That it must be so, — why it must be so, — this also is a lesson learned, like both the former lessons, when you have 238 SECURITY IN THE MIDST OF DANGER. made the Lord, the Most High, your habitation, when you are at home with God. In the very nature of him who is your dwelling-places, — in his essential, glorious perfection, you find at once the proof and the explanations. Scattered through waste places, in the cloudy and dark day, — the lost sheep wander through all the mountains, and upon every high. hill. He who, as the good Shepherd, would search and seek after them, must put himself in their place. Becoming one of them himself, one with them, he must walk on rough and rocky ground, he must face even the devouring wolf. And the sheep whom he recovers and brings back must follow where he has led the way. If it was to him a way thick set with stones, and haunted by the lion and the adder, can it be any thing else to them 1 Or can they expect or wish for any better assurance than what their Leader got, — a secret voice from within the secret place, vindicating from Satan's use of it the precious, the sufficient promise, " He shall give his an- gels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways 1 " Thusfar thetirst of the three speakers in the psalm — whom we shall not go far wrong in identifying with one from among the cloud of witnesses, the witness nobler still who trod afflic- tion's path, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, — explains the source and nature of the security which one dwelling in the secret place of the Most High may enjoy, in the midst of manifold and formidable dangers. It is a security based on the insight he now has, first, into the Lord's truth and faithfulness ; secondly into his righteous judgments ; and, thirdly, into his providential watchfulness and care. Thou art safe, because God is true. Thou art safe, because "unto the Lord belongeth mercy, for he rendereth to every man according to his work." Thou art safe, because He in whom thou trustest has all the elements of nature, and all the in- habitants of heaven as his messengers and agents, to do his pleasure on behalf of all who hope in his mercy. SECURITY IN THE MIDST OF DANGER. 239 II. The second party in this discourse and dialogue, — the party spoken to in the first thirteen verses of the psalm, and spoken of in the remainder of it, — the brother in perU, says very little. But the little which he'does say is very compre- hensive : " I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress : my God ; in him will I trust" (ver. 2). It is a prompt response to the very first appeal made to him. It is an interruption of the testimony of the first speaker, as yet almost unknown, at the very beginning of it. An oracular voice is heard, proclaiming vaguely, and as it were, anonymously, "He that dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Al- mighty " (ver. 1). Instantly the proclamation is appropriated. A weary, war-worn wayfarer grasps it, replies to it, answers the advertisement, and makes it his own : " I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress ; my God ; in him will I trust " (ver. 2). Then the publisher of the original proclamation, closing with the acceptor of it, enlarges upon his theme, drawing it out in particular instances, and ming- ling faithfully as well as tenderly ideas of terror in abundance with the general assurance of protection (vers. 3-8). The appropriation is indeed very precise and full, rising in tenderness as it goes on. 1. " I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my for- tress." To say this is much. To be brought to say it from the heart is the fruit of a gracious work of the Holy Ghost, j^^aturally, 1 seek a shelter from the Lord, a defence against the Lord. A hiding-place from God is what I desire. I look for it, and think that I may have it among the trees oi the garden — the world's flatteries, or the forms of godliness. There I would fain lurk, putting them between my guilty conscience and my offended God, Or let me have some means of meeting my God when he comes to reckon with me ; let me entrench and fortify myself in excuses for my sin and 240 SECUKITY IN THE MIDST OF DANGEK. pleas of self- justification. Such is the propensity of the natural mind. If it be otherwise with me now, it is through the Holy Ghost working in me. It is the effect of a great change of heart ; it is to me a new nature. Once I sought a hiding-place from God — now God is my hiding-place, God is my refuge. From the assaults of my enemies coming to accuse me, to slay me — from my own heart condemning me — I welcome as my refuge the Lord himself, the very God against whom I have offended. Formerly, I was bold enough to defy the God of judg- ment ; I strengthened myself against him in my imaginary innocence, or my comparative integrity and goodness of heart. !Now I give myself into his hands, that he himself may be my defence. I look to him to make me a partaker of his own righteousness — that perfect righteousness of his which none can challenge or assail — the righteousness which he brings near to me in the person of his Son, my strength and my Eedeemer. This now is my fortress; — Jehovah my right- eousness, Jehovah my strength. 2. And, therefore, I will say of him, " He is my God." It is the language now, not of faith only, but of love. He is not merely valued by me as a shelter and a defence ; it is not merely for such advantages to me that I prize him. In him- self, and for himself, he is now precious to me, the beloved of my soul, my portion, my all in all. He is not merely my refuge and my fortress : he is my God. And I have none but the Lord himself. He is my refuge and my fortress always ; as open a refuge, as impregnable a fortress, as when I sought him and he covered me at the first. But he is more to me now, far more. He is my God — whom I have chosen, because he has chosen me, whom I love because he has first loved me. It is not merely that I cannot do without him, but that I would not part with him. He is the health of my countenance, and my God. 0 my God, be not far from me ! " God, even our own God, shall bless us." SECURITY IN THE MIDST OF DANGER. 241 3. In this spirit the exercise of appropriating faith con- cludes with the resolution, " In him will I trust." I may trust in him ; well may I trust in him ; for I have proved him to be my refuge and my fortress. I must needs trust in him ; I cannot but trust in him ; for if not in him, where else can I be safe 1 So far it is a matter of conclusive rea- soning with me, or a matter of urgent necessity. But when I say, " In him will I trust," — in him who is not only my refuge and my fortress, but my God — that is the language of hearty, affectionate, earnest consent. " I will trust and not be afraid, for the Lord Jehovah is my strength and my song ; he also is become my salvation." " In him will I trust." Is it not natural now to trust in him, now that he is my God 1 Alas ! that it should ever be otherwise. How can I ever take it amiss that he should ask me to trust in him — to leave myself and all my interests in his hands — and at the most anxious crisis, in the darkest hour, to believe that all is right — that all will be well ? The witness for God has spoken his encouraging words to the brother in peril, who thus affectionately responds in the exercise of an appropriating faith in God. What God him- self is overheard to say concerning him at the close of the psalm (vers. 14-17), is the glorious corner-stone of this edifice of confidence. Let its separate glories be considered. 1. Mark, first, the cause assigned by the Lord for the warm interest which he feels in his servant thus exposed : " He has set his love upon me ; he has known my name." His heart is mine ; and he does justice to me in his esteem of me. He braves the heady current of the fight, he faces the rough and dangerous road, not for love of self, not even for love of man merely, but for the love he bears to me. Nor is it a great name for himself that he covets. He has known my name. It is my name, not his own, that he would have to be glorified. K 242 SECUEITY IN THE MIDST OF DANGER. 2. Mark, next, how the Lord speaks, connecting his ser- vant's love to him and knowledge of his name with his own purpose of deliverance and exaltation, as if his honour were concerned to make it plain that the love is not misplaced, that the just acknowledgment of his character and perfections is not unappreciated. He has set his love on me ; can I do less than deliver him? He has known my name ; he honours, he glorifies, he exalts my name ; can I do otherwise than set him on high 1 A father on earth, knowing that his child's heart was al' his OAvn, would be ashamed of himself if he could leave that child to perish in some hazardous enterprise to which the very ardour of his filial love had moved him. A prince served hy some noble and chivalrous soul — one counting the prince's honour dearer to him than life — would hold it foul scorn if it were imagined for a moment that he could hesitate to place his faithful servant next the royal throne. And since you have set your heart on God your father, he tells me, he tells all the holy ones, he tells that holy one, the Son of his love, who has won your heart to him, that he cannot but pledge himself to deliver you — especially to deliver you out of whatever troubles may overtake you in your working, or warring, or journeying, on his errand and for his sake, and because your heart is set on him. Since also you have known his name, and it is your delight to ex- claim, I will extol thee, 0 God, my king, I will praise thy name for ever, — he says of you, that however low may be your estate, however humble your sphere, however little of earthly glory may requite you, however much of earthly obliquy may overwhelm you for a time, your promotion in the end is secure. And it must be so ; for his own honour is concerned in his honouring you at last. " I will set him on high, because he has known my name." " Them that honour me I will honour." 3. Mark, thirdly, what the Lord expects on the part of his servant, " He shall call upon me." This, I say, the Lord SECURITY IN THE MIDST OF DANGER. 243 expects. He speaks of it as a matter of course. He intimates that he takes it for granted. To call upon me, to be ever calling upon me, "will be the man's custom, — his vocation always. It may well be so ; it cannot but be so. He has set his heart on me. Can a loving heart ever be silent when the object of its love is ever accessible, ever near ? He has known my name. He understands me as none can under- stand me, save the Son, and he to whomsoever the Son shall reveal me. My nature, my character, he knows. He knows that I love to hear a child crying, Abba, Father. He knows that for this very end I send forth the Spirit of my Son in his heart, that he may be always crying, Abba, Father. He knows me too well to imagine that I have any delight in holding him at a distance. He knows that reserve, keeping silence, is the thing I hate. He knows that my ear is open to his call, and that the highest compliment he can pay me, all the return I ask for all my love is, that he shall call upon me. 4. Mark, once more, the assurance of the Lord's gracious interposition, answering to his servant's calling upon him : " He shall call upon me, and I will answer him : I will be with him in trouble ; I will deliver him, and honour him." It is much the same assurance as before, with this additional particular, preceding the promise of deliverance and honour, " I wiU be with him in trouble." Is not this the special, present answer to him, when he calls upon the Lord 1 The deliverance is connected with his having set his heart upon the Lord. I cannot, the Lord says, suffer one to perish who has given me his confidence and love. The honour again is associated, as a consequence, with this, as its reason or cause, — he hath known my name. I cannot but advance ulti- mately to a high rank him who, self-forgetting, self-denying, is bearing my name, not his own, faithfully on high, in the thickest fight and along the most perilous way. But the 244 SECURITY IN THE MIDST OF DANGER. deliverance may be postponed ; the honour may be in reserve, far off beyond the precincts of time. Is he, therefore, in the meantime helpless, comfortless 1 Far otherwise : " He shall call on me, and I will answer him." My answer will be this, that " I will be with him in trouble." And better trouble when I am with him in it, than deliverance and honour when I am afar off. 5 . ISTor is it to be aU trouble with the man of God while he is fighting the good fight and finishiug his course. Nay, there is so much enjoyment for him, even in his present state, as to make him rather wish for its continuance, and welcome the concluding promise which he hears the. Lord giving : " With long life will I satisfy him, and show him my salvation." This world is not all a battle-field, a dreary and dangerous pilgrimage, to the Lord's faithful servant. Even to him, — rather, one should say, chiefly to him, to him alone reason- ably,— length of days may be an object of desire. Why should that man grasp many years to live here, who, let him go the whole round of earth's pleasures, must be always conscious of an aching void, an unsatisfied thirst, a feeling moving him to adopt the cry. Who will show us any good 1 — to echo sadly the complaint. Vanity of vanities, aU is vanity ? But you, 0 man of God, are not fated thus to have the cup of contentment ever brought to your very lips, to be ever turned aside or dashed down before you drink it. You know what that saying means : " Godliness with contentment is great gain." You see the Lord's goodness in the land of the living. You have much to make you glad in the prospect •of a long life of usefulness and comfort, if that should be the mind of God concerning you. Nay, should length of days bring with it to you only length of toil, and care, and grief, you will still say that even with such a long life the Lord is satisfying you ; for all the more, in such a life, through your SECURITY IN THE MIDST OF DANGER. 245 calling on him and his being with you in trouble, he will be showing you his salvation. And if, on the other hand, it shall please him whose soldier and pilgrim you are, to cut short your career on the very threshold of your entrance on it, — if he shall commission the plague to smite you, or the sword to cut you down, your labour scarcely begun, your mouth scarcely opened, — you will remember that the promise is not an absolute promise of long life. It is, " With long life will I satisfy him." He shall live until he himself is willing to say, I have lived long enough. And will not he be willing at any time to say this, the instant that other pro- mise is fulfilled, " I will show him my salvation 1 " Yes, Brother, if the Lord is showing you his salvation, — if you are taking in your arms the holy child Jesus ; if he is taking you, a little child, in his, — you may fall in the flower of youth, in the prime of manhood, leaving all your work un- done ; but you fall, stiU testifying that with long life the Lord has satisfied you. You die as old a man as the aged Simeon, when he said, " Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation." 246 god's righteousness brought near. XVI. GOD'S RIGHTEOUSNESS BROUGHT NEAR. ' ' I bring near my righteousness ; it shall not be far off, and my salva- tion shall not tarry : and I will place salvation in Zion for Israel my glory." — Isaiah xlvi. 13. "My righteousness is near; my salvation is gone forth, and mine arms shall judge the people ; the isles shall wait upon me, and on mine arm shall they trust." — Isaiah li. 5. The same truth, in substance, is announced in these two texts, but in two different connections. In the one, it has the aspect of a threat ; in the other of a promise. The parties addressed are of opposite characters and in opposite conditions. " Hearken unto me, ye stouthearted that are far from righteousness" (xlvi. 12), is the call in the first instance. "Hearken to me, ye that foUow after righteous- ness, ye that seek the Lord " (li. 1), is the invitation in the second. It would seem, therefore, that there were two classes of people at that time very differently affected by what they saw of the Lord's dealings, and what they heard from his servant of his purposes and his will. The one were stiff of neck and stout of heart, — presumptuously reckoning on security, — relying on their own character and standing, and putting far from them the warnings of God. The other, again, were moved with fear, as they gave heed to the voice of the Lord's servants. They felt deeply the darkness settling down on the divine procedure and on their own god's righteousness brought near. 247 prospects. But still they abstained from having recourse to " a fire," or to " sparks," of their own "kindling" (1. 11), — rather choosing against hope to go on believing in hope, — to wait for God, — to follow after righteousness, — to seek the Lord (li. 1). Now to both of these classes the same announcement is made. The message which they have both alike to receive, either as a savour of death unto death, or as a savour of life unto life, is that of these two texts ; " I bring near my righteousness, and my salvation shall not tarry" (xlvi. 13); " My righteousness is near, my salvation is gone forth " (li. 5). In opening up this message, I shall first consider what are the things to be brought near ; and, secondly, what is the process of bringing them near. I. What are these two things ; — Jehovah's righteousness and Israel's salvation ? How are they related to one another, and connected with one another] And what, in particular, is the meaning of the precedence or priority assigned to the one as coming before the other 1 — my righteousness — my salvation. Now here, in the first place, it is very evident that the Lord's righteousness must mean not a divine attribute, but a divine work, or effect or manifestation of some kind. This is plain from the conjunction in which " his righteousness " stands with " his salvation." They are placed in juxtaposi- tion as things related to God, not indwelling in God ; — " my righteousness ;" "my salvation." The salvation is not God, nor a part of God, but a work, or efiect, or manifestation of God. It has respect not to what God is in himself, but to what he does. So also the righteousness must be some- thing not in God, but of God. But although it is not the essential righteousness of his nature and character that is here denoted, it must be some- thing with which that attribute has to do, something in which it is concerned, and by which it is developed. 248 god's kighteousness brought near. Now the attribute of righteousness or justice in God is strictly judicial. It has respect to his moral administration ; to law, and the enforcing of law. It is thus distinguished from his holiness. "When we speak of God as holy, we speak of him as a moral being to whose very nature sin is infinitely hateful. When we speak of him as righteous, we speak of him as a moral ruler who, in his government of his moral creatures, enforces law and executes judgment. Such is the attribute of righteousness in God. And such also must be that work, or effect, or manifestation which the Lord here caUs " his righteousness." It must be an act of rule, — an exercise of judicial authority ; — a transaction having reference to law and its sanctions, to sin and its sentence, to the redressing of wrong, the vindication of right, and the execut- ing of just judgment on the guilty. But, secondly, the question occurs, Is there any particular procedure on the part of God that may be supposed to be referred to when he speaks of " bringing near his righteous- ness " ] One answer, at all events, lies upon the very surface. Eead the entire series of prophecies in which our two texts occur, beginning at the 44th chapter, and reaching onwards beyond the 51st, — and what do you find ? what but one con- tinued series of most terrible denunciations of judgment against the heathen, alternating with most gracious promises of deliverance to the Lord's own people. God is represented as about to deal judicially with the nations ; taking vengeance on them for their impiety against himself, and their oppression of his church. And all this is to be made subservient to the accomplishment of his plans and purposes of richest love on behalf of his chosen Israel. Now this suggests what must be admitted to be the primary, and the most patent and palpable, meaning of the announcement in our texts. god's righteousness brought near. 249 A judicial dealing with his enemies, on the part of God, precedes and prepares the way for the deliverance or salva- tion of his people ; and when he brings near the one, the other will not tarry ; when the one is near, we may be very sure that the other is already gone forth, and is on the way. Nor are we to restrict the application of this rule to any particular instance ; it is a general rule or law of divine providence. And it is one that may well strike terror into the stouthearted, while it encourages the faithful. To the stouthearted it is terrible. For thus the Lord puts it : Salvation for mine elect, their deliverance from oppression, must be preceded, however briefly, by my righteousness being brought near in visitations of just wrath against you who are my enemies and theirs. That deliverance may come to them, judgment must overtake you. Over your prostrate bodies, over your righteous ruin, my salvation must reach them. But rejoice all ye that " fear the Lord and obey the voice of his servant," even though for a season you " walk in darkness and see no light." Patience for a season : it is but a little while. Righteousness, righteous retribution, the righteous interposition of God for the avenging of his elect, cannot now linger much longer. And hear the Lord's own voice respecting the coming judgments of the last day ; " When these things begin to come to pass, then look up and lift up your heads, for your redemption draweth nigh " (Luke xxi. 28). But, in the third place, we ought not merely to be con- tented with understanding and applying a rule or law of this nature, as a matter of fact ; we ought to search into the probable ground or reason of it. Why is it that the Lord keeps his righteousness ever in advance of his salvation 1 Is it a mere discretionary arrange- ment of his sovereign will 1 Or has it a deeper root in his essential nature 1 Surely it has ; else he would not post- 250 god's righteousness brought near. pone to it what is so dear to his heart as the saving of his people. Being such as he is, righteous and holy ; righteous as well as holy ; he cannot but bring near his righteous- ness, in the first instance, in order that thereafter his salvation may not tarry. And why 1 Why but because he must first consult for his own righteous name, before he can consult for their complete safety ; he must first right him- self before he can consistently and conclusively deliver them. Whatever work or effect or manifestation of his righteousness, whatever judicial procedure, whatever exer- cise of penal severity, may be needed, to vindicate the sanctity of his name and nature, his government and law ; that must come first and be first provided for. And only in the train of that " righteousness of God " can " his salvation " go forth. To alter this arrangement, to reverse this order, would be to postpone to the convenience of the creature, — yes, even of the guilty creature, — the very stability of the throne of the great Creator himself ! It would be to give to the interests of men, sinful men on the earth, priority and precedency over the high and holy claims of God in heaven ; to make the immortal majesty of justice give way and stand by until miserable mortals, having no claim so much as to forbearance, are accommodated and satisfied ; and prostrate the pillars of eternal truth that support the universe at the feet of those, whose modest suit it is that, even though God should cease to reign in righteousness, they must at all events be some- how saved ! But it cannot be. Let men, presumptuous men, reckon as they please on all that is just and true and holy in the character and kingdom of the everlasting God being made to bend to their demand of indulgence and impunity, which is all the salvation they can look for in that way, — and all indeed that they care for. It cannot be. Inflexible, inexorable, god's righteousness brought near. 251 unalterable, — I say not as decree of fate, but as the very nature of the Eternal, — stands the rule : — First cometh his righteousness ; then, only then, his salvation. But, fourthly, let his righteousness come ; let it be brought near. Let it come and be brought near, having its full course ; being thoroughly satisfied and fulfilled. Then his salvation will not tarry. It foUows, it cannot but follow, it is content to follow, the righteousness. It follows, not tardily, but in eager haste. Scarcely has that herald, clad in the dark garb of the destroying angel, armed with avenging thunder, sounding the trump of doom, left the skies upon his errand of inevitable judgment, when, lo ! mercy, saving mercy, with sweet and tearful smile, is already gone forth, rushing on wing of love to overtake his steps. Onward she flies in her swift and emulous race, no halting, no tarrying, till, planting her eager foot upon this earth ; — where 1 on what spot '? — where but on Calvary 1 where but beside the cross 1 — she finds the messenger of wrath she has been pursuing, no longer hastening on, but waiting for her ; waiting, that beneath the gracious stream, as it gushes from the pierced side, they too may be at one ; antagonists no more, but combining in truest, fullest harmony of just and holy love to save and bless mankind. For now " mercy and truth are met together, righteousness and peace have kissed each other" (Ixxxiv. 10). I touch now the real import and heart's core of my texts ; and go on to observe accordingly : — That this principle of the righteousness of God opening up the way for his salvation, may be applied — 1. To fallen man and his tempter in paradise ; 2. To the redeeming man, Christ Jesus, accomplishing his work of propitiation ; and 3. To me, personally as a poor sinner, in the Spirit's gracious work of conviction and faith. 252 god's righteousness beought near. 1. This "righteousness of God," as preliminary to "his salvation," is brought near to fallen man and his tempter in paradise. Here let me remind you of the terms in which the original promise of mercy was couched. In point of fact, it was not strictly speaking a promise at all, but a threatening. It spoke only of judgment : " To the serpent God said, The seed of the woman shall bruise thy head." Thus God " brings near his righteousness." And the only ground upon which his doing so, in the form of this intimation of the tempter's sentence and doom, can be held to carry in it any grace at all, is just the law or principle of our texts ; that when he bringeth near his righteousness, his salvation will not tarry. The execution of his work of righteousness upon the seducer implies, as a consequence, according to this law or principle, the deUverance of his victims. 2. This " righteousness of God " is brought near to the redeeming man, the Lord from heaven, the man Christ Jesus, accomplishing his ministry of propitiation. For the deliverer is to be himself a partaker in the calamity of those whom he dehvers. He is to make common cause with them. He is to deliver them by representing them ; by taking their place ; and allowing that righteousness of God which would have had its proper effect, or work, in their death, to be consum- mated in him as dying in their stead. Eighteousness must come first ; his fulfilling all righteousness ; as a preliminary to his being able to save unto the uttermost all that come unto God by him. 3. This " righteousness of God " is brought near to me, a poor sinner, in the Spirit's gracious work of conviction and faith. Eighteousness brought near to me, God's perfect right- eousness ; not to condemn but to save ! How may that be 1 And yet it must be. I feel now that it must. Eighteousness, a work or manifestation of righteousness, god's righteousness brought near. 253 such as may meet the claims of the righteous God — that must first come ! Ah me ! can such a righteousness ever come near to me, and bring anything but death for me 1 Can I stand, in my own proper person, such a judicial work in and upon me, a sinner, as I now see must precede any hope of my ever being saved 1 Yes ! I deeply feel that in and upon me, to me, to me personally and individually, to my case, this law of salva- tion coming after righteousness — deliverance following in the rear of a strict judicial reckoning — must be relentlessly applied. Nay, I could not, I would not, I dare not look for any relaxation of it in its application to me. With the light and conviction I now have, I dare not dream of what relates to my safety having the preference over what involves the glory of Jehovah's righteous name. But he himself says, "I bring near my righteousness." Lo ! it is near ! In the person, in the obedience, in the atoning death of Christ, it is near : near to me with, not ruin, but salvation in its train ! Yes ! For in Christ and his finished work of obedience and atonement, the righteousness of God is brought near, as fully and finally satisfied and glorified, and therefore having in it a righteous salvation for me ; for me, a sinner ; of sinners the chief. In him and in his work, the whole of that judicial procedure — 'even up to the highest demands of the law's perfection, and down to the utmost depths of the law's penalty — which must open the way for the coming of God's salvation, is strictly and thoroughly accomplished. He is therefore himself " the righteousness of God ; " and as such God brings him near. He is near ; " my righteousness," says Jehovah. Let him be mine ! Oh, let him only be mine ! do I, poor sinner as I am, amid the doubt and darkness of con- scious guilt, cry out. And then may the full light of God's own salvation flow in abundantly on my long benighted soul. 254 god's righteousness brought near. It now only remains under this head to identify this right- eousness of God which our texts describe as the precursor of his salvation, with that which the New Testament represents as the ground of our justification before God. I quote one siugle passage : " But now the righteousness of God without the law is manifested, being witnessed by the law and the prophets " (Eom. iii. 21). The apostle has conclusively proved the righteousness of man to be in every view insufficient ; all righteousness of man — of man's providing or working out — being out of the question as having any worth or efficacy to meet the demands of God's violated law and justice, or give the sinner any ground of hope. And now, that being so, the righteousness of God is manifested in the person and work of his Son Jesus Christ, fulfilling the whole law on our behalf, and ex- piating the guilt of our breach of it by his own endurance of the penalty in our stead. In the train of that righteousness of God his salvation will not tarry. This righteousness thus seasonably manifested, is said by the apostle to be " without the law." It is irrespective of any personal obedience of ours to the law, or any satisfaction we could render for our disobedience. Still it is " witnessed by the law and the prophets." By the law it is witnessed or attested as the very righteousness which it requires to fulfil and exhaust its claims. By the prophets it is witnessed or attested as the very righteousness promised from the be- ginning, by means of which the serpent's head should be bruised, and his victims emancipated and set free. The law looks at this righteousness and is satisfied. Yes ! it will do ! it is enough ! The prophets also look at this righteousness ; and they too are satisfied. We recognise it, they say, as that righteousness of God which we were taught to look for, and which we taught the faithful among the people to look for, and on which we and they relied for the coming in of god's righteousness brought near. 255 all saving mercies. We hail the long-promised and long- expected boon. We welcome the Saviour, the Eighteous one, whose day we gladly saw afar off. The righteousness is thus attested to be perfect ; as meeting alike all legal de- mands and all prophetic anticipations. II. I have dwelt so long upon the righteousness said to be brought near, as the precursor of the salvation which will not tarry, that I can but touch upon the manner in which the righteousness is brought near, so that the salvation instantly goeth forth in its train. It may be said that the Lord brings- it near, or that it is near, in three different senses. It is near, the Lord brings it near, in tlie gospel offer, a& a free gift, wholly of grace, and not of works at all. What are thou groping for, what art thou feeling for,, what are thou toiling and straining for, 0 poor soul 1 Some- thing to stand thee in stead in the judicial dealing of thy God with thee ; something that may be of avail, if not as a claim of merit, yet, at least, as a plea in arrest of judgment ; something made up of prayers and penances and pious services ; repentances, resolutions, compensations for little sins ; decencies, duties, virtues ; frames, feelings ; and one knows not Avhat besides ; something that thou canst pre- sent to thy Maker as having efficacy to avert his wrath and win his indulgent favour. Ah, how hard is thy task ! And how vain ! Worse than filling the bottomless tub, or rolling the ever-returning stone up the steep hill. What folly ! Thou art going about to establish a righteousness of thine own. Long and late will it be ere thou succeedest, even to thy own satisfaction if thou art in earnest, not to speak of the satisfaction of thy God. Hear the apostle's testimony (Eom. x. 5-10), " Moses de- scribeth the righteousness which is of the law, that the man which doeth those things shall live by them." The man 256 god's righteousness brought near. that doeth those things ; — the things required by the law- demanding full satisfaction for disobedience as well as enjoin- ing perfect obedience ; — the man that doeth those things ; when he has done them ; when he has expiated the guilt of all his past sins, and succeeded in sinlessly keeping all God's commandments ; may then have a righteousness in respect of which God's salvation may not tarry. Then ! Ah ! when will that be 1 Eternity, with aU heaven's services and all hell's sufferings combined, would not bring it near ! But hear the other side ! Look at that righteousness, so infinitely beyond all thine own, which, in his own dear Son, Jehovah brings so very near ; putting it into thy very hand, and saying. Sinner, it is thine freely, — thine for the taking. Yes ! it is near, this righteousness of God. For " the righteousness which is of faith speaketh on this wise, Say not in thine heart. Who shall ascend into heaven 1 (that is, to bring Christ down from above) : or, Who shall de- scend into the deep ? (that is, to bring up Christ again from the dead). But what saith it 1 The word is nigh thee, even in thy mouth, and in thy heart : that is the word of faith, which we preach ; that if thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved." 2. The Lord bringeth near this righteousness ; it is near ; in the powerful striving and working of his Spirit. This bringing near of his righteousness is a very solemn thing. For what can be more critical than the position of one to whom God is thus bringing near that righteousness of his behind which his salvation will not tarry, — not only in the free gift and offer of the gospel, but by the mighty agency of the Spirit — and who stiU is hesitating, halting, and stand- ing back ! May not this be thy position, 0 my brother, at this very moment 1 Is it not thy position 1 Hast thou not some god's righteousness brought near. 257 misgivings as to the sort of righteousness which thou hast been accustomed to present and plead at the bar of thy con- science and thy God ? Art thou not in some measure ill at ease 1 Is there not a faint longing in thy bosom, as if thou wouldst fain, if thou couldst, have a surer resting-place and a more satisfying refuge from the impending storm of wrath 1 Hast thou no surmise that if thou wert decidedly and alto- gether a Christian — if Christ were thine — thine as the Lord thy righteousness, the righteousness of God made over to thee — thou wouldst be both a happier and a better man ? Be very sure that God is bringing near his righteousness to thee, by the power of his Spirit as well as in the free gift of his gospel, in such a way as, if it do not carry it with it salvation in its train, must fearfully aggravate thy doom. Jesus sent forth his disciples to proclaim in every city and every family, "The kingdom of God is come nigh unto you." A right gracious proclamation ! But the last words he told them to leave ringing in the ears of the disobedient were these very words of grace turned into words of winged and fiery wrath — " Notwithstanding, be ye sure that the kingdom of God hath come nigh unto you." 3. The Lord brings near his righteousness in the believing appropriation of it which his Spirit enables you to make. A blessed nearness is this ! — humbling to self, honouring to God ! How far does it put away every vision of a righteous- ness of your own ! What acquiescence does it imply in the very arrangement the natural mind most dislikes — the put- ting of all your claims on the footing of a righteousness pro- vided for you. Yes ! Even though it is the righteousness of God him- self, the righteousness manifested and wrought out in the person of his Son, and though it is not only provided for you, but freely presented to you, by him whose righteousness it is ; still, the natural mind recoils from the renunciation of self S 258 god's righteousness brought near. and tlie submission to God which all this involves. To be made willing here is indeed the token of a day of power ! But how great is the blessedness of being thus made willing ! For one thing, there is an entire end of all guile. All par- tial dealing with conscience and with God is past. No more compromise. No more trying to put off even God himseK with an instalment of his claims. No more attempt to satisfy him with what but barely — or not even barely — satisfies your- selves. All now is open and without disguise. And then, what a profitable exchange is yours ! Your righteousness is now far off ; but God's righteousness is near. You are nothing ; but Christ is all in all. You count all things but loss ; but it is for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus your Lord. You renounce righteousness as your attribute, and own sin — sin only — as constituting your essential characteristic, your very being ; but it is because you believe in God who " hath made him to be sin for you who knew no sin, that you might be made the righteousness of God in him." Thus, in the free gift and offer of the gospel, in the power- ful working of the Spirit, and in the appropriating act of that faith which is the fruit of the Spirit and the gift of God — his righteousness is near ; brought near, emphatically, by himself. " I bring near my righteousness." And it is not only for the honour of his name and the vindication of his government and law — an object which he might attain in your destruction — that he brings near his righteousness ; but for the sake of what follows hard upon his righteousness being brought near — his salvation. Sal- vation Cometh. Jehovah's salvation following Jehovah's righteousness. And what a salvation ! It is the Lord's salvation ; not such as man would desire or imagine for himself, but such as is worthy of God ; a high and holy salvation ; comprehending all God-like god's righteousness brought near. 259 privileges and God-like perfections ; deliverances of all sorts from all powers and influences opposed to godliness ; and freedom to walk in fellowship with God. This salvation, which is the Lord's, is sure, because it is the sequel and corollary of the Lord's righteousness being brought near. It is not based on any hollow truce and wretched compromise with evil. It does not depend on any treacherous rearing of the fabric of human worth or goodness. It is the handmaid of righteousness ; even of the Lord's own righteousness. And therefore it has a security which neither sin nor Satan can shake. Finally, this salvation of the Lord, thus going forth in the train of his righteousness, is complete and full. How can it, on such a footing, be otherwise 1 It is a perfect righteousness which Jehovah brings near ; it cannot be an imperfect salvation of which he says that it shall not tarry. " He that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not with him also freely give us all things ? " In applying this subject, I address myself first to the poor in spirit, the contrite in heart, those that fear the Lord and tremble at his word, anxious inquirers, earnest souls, sincerely desiring to know and obey the wQl of God, who yet are in darkness more or less thick, not satisfied with their state, not at ease in their minds (Isa. 1. 10). (1.) In the first place, I would remind you that God brings near his righteousness ; it is near. Ah ! upon this point there is often sad obscurity in your views. You are for reversing the divine method. You would somehow your- selves get to the righteousness, instead of having it brought near to you. The poor invalid at Bethesda saw healing in the pool if he could but have transported himself, or had himself transported and conveyed into it. With breathless 260 god's kighteousness brought near. eagerness he watched the descent of the angel and the trou- bling of the waters. Desperately straining aU his nerves for one more effort, he starts up in his weary bed, and fain would drag his wasted limbs along. Importunately he cries to every passer-by to help him over the space which, though but a few feet wide, is to him a barrier as impassable as the vastest ocean. But all in vain ! Again and again he is tan- talised by the tidings of virtue in the bath. Again and again he has to endure the bitter sickness of hope deferred. Good was it for him that One at last appeared, who, instead of his being required to go to the healing waters, brought a healing efficacy near to him ! Good was it for that helpless man to have no more care about his reaching the cure, but to wel- come the cure as reaching him ! Ah, poor sinner ! have done for ever with that Bethesda way of getting healed. It is the way of nature ; it is the way of man ; but it is not the way of grace or of God. Why art thou saying, I cannot reach the pool ; I have no man to carry me ; I never can come to the righteousness I so much want 1 Do but look and listen. See a present Saviour. Hear the heavenly voice. My righteousness is near. All that thou wouldst have — all that thou needest for thy right standing with thy God — is near in thy hand, in thy heart, if thou wilt but grasp it as thine. " Behold, I stand at the door and knock : if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me " (Eev. iii. 20). (2.) But again, secondly, I would remind you that it is with that righteousness of God which he himself brings near, and with that alone, that you have directly to deal, and not with that salvation of God which will not tarry long after it. Do you give heed to the righteousness, and the salvation wUl take care of itself. Your business is with the righteousness ; all concern about the salvation you may leave to God, god's righteousness brought near. 261 Here, again, upon this point also, there is apt to be not a little confusion of ideas even in serious minds. You are anxious about the enjoyment of God's salvation. The ele- ments of holy happiness involved in it, its peace, its assur- ance, its enlargement of heart ; the dispelling of darkness, the removal of doubts ; deliverance from temptations and troubles, from fightings and fears ; the unclouded shining of God's reconciled countenance, and the bright unwavering hope of this eternal glory ; — all these rich benefits of God's salvation you covet earnestly. And it is not possible, nor would it be right, to be indifferent to them. You cannot value them too highly, or long for them too intensely. At the same time, you may somewhat err as to the way of obtain- ing them, or the way of their coming to you. The attempt to get possession of them by a direct eff'ort, put forth imme- diately upon their attainment, may very probably defeat itself. Kather be you occupied with the righteousness of God, and rest assured that his salvation will not tarry. Let God make thorough work of his bringing near his righteousness to you. Let your conviction of sin be thorough. Let your knowledge of Christ be thorough. Let the renewal of your minds be thorough. Let your embracing of the Lord Jesus be thorough ; and let your submission to God, on the footing of his righteousness, which he brings near you, be thorough. Let that submission on your part be as free, as uncon- ditional, as unreserved, as is his gift to you ; carrying with it entire resignation, cordial acquiescence, cheerful, obedience, patient waiting. So let his righteousness be brought near by himself to you, powerfully, efi'ectually, thoroughly ; and in its train you will find all saving gifts and graces hastening right joyously to cheer and bless your souls. One word in closing to the stout-hearted ; to you whO' 262 god's righteousness brought near. are standing aloof and afar off. To you, also, is this word of the Lord addressed, " I bring near my righteousness." " My righteousness is near." And in a double sense and for a double purpose is this word addressed to you. First, that you may know the terror of the Lord — con- sider that his righteousness, in the sense of his judicial reckoning with you, cannot be very distant. God has long delayed his coming to you in judgment. But come to you he must, and come to you he will ; how soon and how sud- denly, who can tell 1 Sinner, careless sinner, the day of wrath is near. God bringeth near his work of retribution to thee. Near, at the very door, ready this very day, this very hour, to seize thee, and drag thee to the bar, and open to thee the books, and read to thee thine everlasting doom ; — near, this very instant, may that stern, inexorable righteousness of God be to thee ! But, sinner, in another sense God brings his righteous- ness near to you. He brings near to you Christ, the Lord, his own beloved Son. And in his glorious person and his finished work, he brings near to you a righteousness all his own ; a righteousness full, perfect, spotless, divine ; a right- eousness that will stand the chiefest sinner in good stead at the most trying hour ; a righteousness sufficient to procure the cancelling of all your guilt, and the full salvation of your souls. This righteousness does God even now, in a preached Gospel and by a striving Spirit, bring near to you ; near — very near — ah, how near ! Nearer, at all events, than that other righteousness, that judicial visitation upon thyself, which yet may be at thy very door ! Yes ! 0 sinner, death is near, but grace is nearer. Judg- ment is near, but Christ is nearer. Hell is near, but this blessed book, with all its promises, is nearer. Eternity is near, but the eternal Saviour is nearer. god's righteousness brought near. 263 Oh ! be persuaded now to own and receive, and welcome and embrace that righteousness of God which he brings so very near ; to say to Jesus, My Redeemer, my Saviour, my Lord and my God. Is it not high time ? The wolf is coming — fast coming — nearer and nearer every moment. Already he is upon you. One spring ! — But lo ! nearer still, the good Shepherd ! Be- tween thee and devouring ruin, already all but grasping thee, the good Shepherd yet for one more instant stands. Now, even now, Avilt thou not hear his voice, and cast thyself into his arms, and believe and be saved 1 Ah, my friends ! I would entreat you all to consider what it is that alone will avail you for eternity ; what sort of right- eousness, what sort of salvation. The hour is not far off that will try with a fiery ordeal whatever righteousness you are trusting in — whatever salvation you are looking for. The hope of the hypocrite must perish. The confidence of the self-righteous must be overthrown. The hail will destroy all refuges of lies. But if God's righteousness is near to you, and if God's salvation is gone forth to you, you at least have no cause of fear. " Lift up your eyes to the heavens, and look \ipon the earth beneath : for the heavens shall vanish away like smoke, and the earth shall wax old like a garment, and they that dwell therein shall die in like manner : but my salvation shall be for ever, and my righteousness shall not be abolished. Hearken unto me, ye that know righteousness, the people in whose heart is my law ; fear ye not the reproach of men, neither be ye afraid of their revilings. For the moth shall eat them up like a garment, and the worm shall eat them like wool : but my righteousness shall be for ever, and my salvation from generation to generation " (Isa. li. 6-8). 264 god's ways not man's ways. XVII. GOD'S WAYS NOT MAN'S WAYS. " For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts." — Isaiah Iv. 8, 9. This statement may be viewed, either first, as giving the reason that makes the sinner's repentance necessary (ver. 7), " Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts ; " " For my thoughts are not as your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord ;" or secondly, as confirming the assurance of full and free forgiveness (ver. 7), " Let him return unto the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him, and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon :" he may be sure of this ; "for my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord;" or thirdly, as an assertion of the stability of the divine purpose and the certainty of its fulfilment (vers. 10-12). It is the purpose of one whose thoughts are not your thoughts, and whose word in the moral economy will infallibly be as effectual as is his reign in the material earth, and who, out of the songs of a renovated world, is deter- mined, whether you believe or no, to make for himself a name. Considered in the first of these lights, the text places the necessity of repentance not on the footing of a mere arbi- trary or discretionary appointment on the part of God, but god's ways not man's ways, 265 on the footing of his essential nature. It is not merely be- cause God says it, that the wicked must forsake his way and the unrighteous man his thoughts ; but because God is what he is, Not as if it were a required and stipulated condition of God's favour, but because even God, being such as he is, cannot arrange it otherwise : " The wicked must forsake his way and the unrighteous man his thoughts " (ver, 7). Again, taken, according to the second view, in connection with the assurance given to the sinners, however wicked his way, and however unrighteous his thoughts, that on his turning to the Lord, the Lord will have mercy upon him, the text at once magnifies the grace of God, and explains the principle on which it is dispensed ; not after the manner and measure of such forgiveness as is common between man and man, but according to the nature of God himself ; after a manner, there- fore, and a measure, worthy of God, and such as never would have entered into the heart of man, " For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord." Finally, regarded in its third aspect, as bearing on what follows, rather than on what goes before, the text unfolds the ground of that confidence which you may have, who comply with the call to return unto the Lord. It is im- possible that, returning to him, you should ever perish, for he to whom you return is not one whose thoughts, however kind, may yet come to nought. He is not one whose ways, however gracious, may yet be turned aside. That is too often the issue of men's kind thoughts and gracious ways towards one another. He is one whose word cannot return unto him void. And his word, his will, irrevocable and irresistible, is that the ruin of the fall shall be signally repaired ; " For ye shall go out with joy, and be led forth with peace : the mountains and the hiUs shall break forth before you into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands. Instead of the thorn shall come up the fir tree, and instead 266 god's ways not man's ways. of the brier shall come up the myrtle tree : and it shall be to the Lord for a name, for an everlasting sign that shall not be cut off" (vers. 12, 13). Such being the threefold work and triple excellency of this announcement of the text, I would now endeavour, by the help of God, to ascertain (1) against what errors ; (2) with what qualifications or limitations ; (3) with what simple truth, as it respects the sovereign majesty of God ; and (4) with what variety of adaptation to the experience of man, this great doctrine concerning the Most High is to be maintained. I. The errors, in opposition to which the doctrine of the text is to be asserted, are those connected with what has been technically termed anthropomorphism. This, in its grosser form, is the ascribing of a body and bodily organs to him who is a spirit ; interpreting literally those expressions that often occur in Scripture — "the eyes of the Lord;" "the hand of God ;" the " ears of theLord of Sabaoth." The more subtle and refined sort, however, is that which, without investing God with a human form, would conceive of him as subject to human passions, with all their alternations of violence and weakness. Thus, on the one hand, the presumption of the wicked in their wickedness, and the fond reliance of super- stitious formalists on their ceremonies and duties ; as well as, on the other hand, the weariness even of the godly, in their sufferings of wrong, and waiting for good, may all be traced to that radical vice in what may be called our natural religion — the judging and measuring of God by ourselves. The same spirit, also, is vividly represented in some of the Lord's parables, as in the wicked and slothful servant saying to his Lord, " I knew thee, that thou wast an austere man, lo, there thou hast that is thine ;" in the labourers sent first into the vineyard grudging the employer's kindness, and question- ing his fairness, when he requites equally with them those god's ways not man's ways. 267 hired at the eleventh hour ; in the elder son remonstrating with his father for the mirth and gladness at the prodigal's return ; ay, and in the prodigal himself, on his first deter- mining to return, when all he dreamt of asking from his father was some spare bread from the hired servants' table, and that, too, on the terms of a hired servant's work and wages. In all these and similar instances, we trace the working of the same disposition to bring down God to the level of man ; and the root of the whole evil really is the enmity of your carnal mind against God : you will not, cannot understand, because you do not love or like the God with whom you have to do. You have a quarrel or controversy with him, in which, as your own hearts bear witness, you are in the wrong ; and, as is usual in such a case, you do injustice to your adversary. It is thus in human affairs. Is there any one with whom you are on unfriendly terms 1 Is he one who has claims upon you that you are not willing to recognise, and cause of complaint against you that you cannot bring yourself frankly to confess 1 Ah ! how apt are you to judge of him, not merely by what is best, but by what is basest in your own disposition ; to pervert everything he saj-'s and does, and look with a jaundiced and jealous eye on whatever indication of his mind he may be giving. Does he pipe to you 1 you will not dance. Does he mourn to you ? you will not lament. Does he signify his just displeasure in language of deep and solemn sadness 1 Oh ! he is in a passion ; but by and by he will cool down and relent — a few compliments and concessions will appease him. Is he, again, gentle and un- complaining, neither opening his lips, nor lifting his hand in wrath 1 It is because he does not really feel, or notice, the affront. You scarcely thank him for not taking instant vengeance, imagining that it is simply because he dares not, or because he cares not. Does he insist on any right he has 268 god's ways not man's ways. over you 1 he is harsh and arbitrary — abridging your liberty, imposing a yoke of bondage. Does he come to you with proposals of peace, offering you terms the most liberal and large and loving ? Still he is to be feared or suspected even •when bringing gifts. He must have some end to serve ; or, at any rate, he is now a suitor for your favour ; he is making advances to you as if he needed you, as if he were giving in to you, and you accordingly may stand off and be on your guard, and take time, and use your discretion as to entertaining his advances and surrendering to his importunity. Thus, do what he will, he cannot get you to give him credit or do him justice. The miserable jealousies of your discontented breast distort the features of his character, as they are reflected from your own. Nay, you will perversely make him out to be even worse than yourselves ; suspecting him of what you would be ashamed to be suspected of yourselves, and almost finding a pleasure in painting him with darker colours than you hope any one could even use in representing any action of yours. Such is your ingenuity while living in malice and envy, hateful, and hating one another ! Such also, too often, is your perverse wilfulness in estimating the thoughts and the ways of your God ! Even you who believe, but too frequently err in this very way, doing great injustice to your Father in heaven, and charging him foolishly, in reference to his dealings with you, with what is but too like the caprice and wanton cruelty or careless- ness of man. How many doubts, dark thoughts, and mis- givings and fears ; how many instances, too, of indulgences tolerated, and acts of worldly conformity ventured upon, may all be traced to this source ! Thus, with Jonah, on the sudden withering of some gourd, you feel as if you did well to be angry ; or with David, in his infirmity, you are envious at the foolish, seeing the prosperity of the wicked, and asking the ungrateful question. Hath God forgotten to be gracious ? god's ways not man's ways. 269 Or, like Lot, you venture into Sodom, reckoning on God's protection when following your own ends ; or, like Thomas, you will refuse to abandon your sullen unbelief until you receive a sign. In all such instances, are you not judg- ing God after the manner of men 1 investing him with some of the least amiable and least respectable attributes of infirm or corrupt humanity ? And is it not sad to think what a proof all this affords of remaining dislike to God. What ! is God still your enemy, that you should, even in momentary thought, impute to him anything like a design to vex and torture you 1 Nay, do him right in your esteem of him. Take him at his word. Trust his faithfulness ; rely on his truth. Believe in him whom he hath sent ; believe and be saved. Do you still refuse 1 or is it the holy eye of God that you would hope to evade ? Ah ! can it be possible that you experience something like a feeling of relief in the thought that surely he will turn away his eye, or wink, as one of yourselves might do when you are transacting some question- able piece of business, or for once, it may be, allowing yourself some doubtful kind of freedom 1 Can you venture to translate into plain words the senti- ment or principle on which, in such a case, you imagine God may be expected to deal with you 1 Would it not be every whit as offensive as the representing of him in a bodily human shape ? II. The testimony of the text, however, is not to be over- strained. There are qualifications and limitations that must be practically observed in applying it. These, every genuine and honest heart will instinctively feel ; and they are plainly enough indicated in his Son. 1. In the first place, we are more than once expressly taught to judge of the heart of God by what is in the heart 270 god's ways not man's ways. of man. " Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear him." " Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb 1 " " Which of you, being a father, if his son ask bread, wiU he give him a stone, or if he ask a fish, will he give him a serpent ? " In the two latter passages the point turns upon contrast, as adding weight to comparison, and the argument runs in the form of a muc?i more, " Can a woman forget the sucking chUd, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb 1 " " She may forget, yet will not I forget thee." And again, " If ye, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that ask." In the same way, the three parables of the lost sheep, the lost piece of money, and the lost prodigal son, all pro- ceed upon the analogy of a human sentiment ascribed to the divine mind, and lose all their meaning, and beauty, and pathos, and practical value, if the peculiar emotion with which God regards sinners, lost and ruined, be not repre- sented as the same in kind, though infinitely greater in degree, with that which among men prompts search and sacrifice for a missing object of attachment, the warmest of welcomes when that object is restored, and a joy with which all generous minds can sympathise when the cry is raised, I have found that which I had lost, 2. Then secondly, but for such a liberty and warrant as we now contend for, some of the most afiecting of the inspired pleadings and promises in the Bible would be cold and heartless. Take, for instance, the appeal of the distressed church in Isaiah: " Look down from heaven, and behold from the habitation of thy holiness and of thy glory : where is thy zeal and thy strength, the sounding of thy bowels and of thy mercies towards me 1 are they restrained ? " (Ixiii. 15) ; or god's ways not man's ways. 271 the utterance of pity on the part of God, as if he were ex- postulating with himself in Jeremiah : " Is Ephraim my dear son 1 is he a pleasant child 1 for since I spake against him, I do earnestly remember him still ; therefore my bowels are troubled for him ; I will surely have mercy upon him, saith the Lord" (Jer. xxxi. 20) ; or finally, the outburst of relenting tenderness in Hosea : " How shall I give thee up, Ephraim 1 how shall I deliver thee, Israel ? how shall I make thee as Admah 1 how shall I set thee as Zeboim 1 mine heart is turned within me, my repentings are kindled together. I will not execute the fierceness of mine anger, I will not return to destroy Ephraim : for I am God, and not man ; the Holy One in the midst of thee : and I will not enter into the city" (Hos. xi. 8, 9). Mark the last of these plaintive passages we have read (Hos. xi. 9). In the very midst of it a parallel assertion to that of our text occurs, " I am God and not man." This is given as the very explanation of that internal conflict, as it were, in the heart of God, that the Holy Ghost has de- scribed in language so thoroughly human. 3. For, in the third place, there is a great truth to be brought out here, that the perfection of God, in respect of which he is to be contrasted with man, consists not in the absence of sensibility, but in its very intensity, and purity, and power. It is not that he feels less, because he is God and not man, but that he feels more, infinitely more. Every human affection that can consist and co-exist with holiness, is but a faint image and shadow of the divine : and while the affection, as it is in God, transcends as to its purity and power what it is to man, as far as the heavens are higher than the earth, it is still as to its essential nature identically the same affection. Were it not so, indeed, the incarnation of the Son and the indwelling of the Holy Ghost in believers would be not blessed realities, but mere formal phrases or wild impossible fictions. 272 god's ways not man's ways. Thus, as to the first, without unduly prying into that holy mystery, we may at all events perceive that this union, intimate, and thenceforth to be indissoluble, between the two natures, the human and the divine, in the one person of the man Christ Jesus never could have taken place, but for the essential harmony and sympathy that there is between the highest attributes of the Godhead and what constitutes the best virtue and excellency of manhood. It is an outrage on every idea we can form, in relation to such a subject, of common propriety, and decency, and truth ; it is like the classical story of the fastening of the dead body to the living, with these two intolerable aggravations, that the fastening is a personal union, and a union for eternity ; it is, in short, simply monstrous, unnatural, in a high sense of that term, inconceivable and impossible, that the Son, being God, should become man, if God's thoughts may not be man's, and man's ways God's. True, it is your human nature, pure and sinless, that the Son takes into union with his own divine nature. But consider. Is not sensibility — keen, thrilling, exquisitely sensitive — the very perfection of human nature ? And is it not a perfection unfolded in exact pro- portion to the holiness of that nature 1 It is unfolded, doubtless, in subjection to reason and to law, the intelli- gence of man and the commandment of God; it is unfolded as no mere blind instinct or casual impulse, but as a chastened, sanctified principle. It is unfolded, however, as only on that very account all the more keen, lively, and susceptible, or blind instinct may be deadened ; and casual impulse overcome ; but the exquisite tenderness of a holy conscience and a loving heart can never be seared or blunted, but must characterise, as they will ennoble, manhood for ever. And it was this manhood, this characteristic and noble manhood, with its tears, and groans, and sighs, its joys also, god's ways not man's ways. 273 its kindnesses, its sympatliies, its loves, that the Son of God welded, so to speak, into his own essential Godhead, when he the eternal Word became flesh, and could he have done so if there were nothing akin to the sensibility of man's nature in the Godhead itself ] Could he have wept as man with the widow of Nain and the sorrowing sisters at Bethany 1 Could he have shed tears over Jerusalem, or suf- fered his bloody sweat in the garden, if sorrow and sin did not really affect and move his divine mind, exactly as they touched his human soul 1 Eemember his own saying in reference to his whole character and conduct on the earth, "Whosoever hath seen me, hath seen the Father. He could not have said this if the divine nature he shares with the Father were wholly opposite in this quality of sensibility, or a warm, quick, living, and loving heart, from the human nature which he shares with you. Be sure then, brethren, that the incarnation is a great fact. It gives the deathblow to pantheism in both its forms, as it is the denial of a per- sonal God altogether, and as it is the denial of his personal affections, feelings, sensibilities. It brings God before you, both as a living, and as a loving and hating God. Your God is no mere abstract personification of the plastic power of nature, or the ideal intelligence of the universe. He is one, conceive of him otherwise as you may, who has a heart as well as a hand in whatever is going on in the universe, in the falling of a sparrow to the ground, and the touching of a single hair of your head. 2. Then, again, as to the second great fact, the indwelling of the Holy Ghost in you as believers, the very idea would be preposterous, as well as blasphemous, otherwise than as a mere hyperbole and exaggerated figure of speech, if there were not a sense in which God's thoughts are as your thoughts, and your ways as God's. Is it true that the Holy Ghost, who is himself God, takes up his abode, really and T 274 god's ways not man's ways. personally, in your heart, 0 believer 1 Much, alas, must he meet with there most uncongenial, distasteful, offensive ; and oh, what wonder is it that he is not speedily driven away ! But the feelings he himself calls forth within you, the affec- tions he himself renews and hallows, the spiritual sensibilities he himself creates, when he breaks the hard heart and opens the fountain of all its tears and gladness,— these cannot be foreign to the nature of that divine inmate w^ho now finds a home within you. l^ay, it is with these very sensibilities, in their most acute and poignant exercise, that this sympathis- ing Spirit concurs and conspires when he joins himself to you. "For the Spirit likewise helpeth your infirmities, for you know not what to pray for as you ought, but the Spirit himself maketh intercession for you, with groanings which cannot be ■uttered." These unutterable groanings are the workings of sensibility in you; the deep movements of a quickened con- science and a broken heart; groanings for another's pain and for your own. And so far from there being any incompati- bility between such groanings and the divine nature of the Spirit, it is these very groanings that the Spirit takes as his own ; giving them, without utterance of yours, a direction heavenward, and a voice entering into the ear of heaven's Lord. For " he that searcheth the hearts knoweth what is the mind of the Spirit because he maketh intercession for the saints, according to the will of God." The groanings which cannot be uttered become identical with the miud of the Spirit, and as the mind of the Spirit, they are known by the Searcher of hearts. These thoughts have led us somewhat beyond our theme. Before returning to it, we may offer two practical reflections. As to yourselves, observe wherein the divine perfection of your Christian character must lie, — not in ridding your- self of your human affections, and human sensibilities, and human passions, — but in assimilating them more and more god's ways not man's ways. 275 to the corresponding attributes and qualities in God. There is in some quarters a notion that the believer is, or ought to be, a passionless, emotionless being, rigid and severe, not open to impressions of rising feeling or relenting tenderness, not given to weep, but made of sterner stuff, and that too much warmth of heart may unfit him for the part he has to take in reproving sin, and witnessing for God against evil. Kow, that part is no easy one ; nor can we, in our present state, altogether understand how our nature is to be fitted for such a Avork of judgment as is described in that Psalm (149), in which it is said of the meek that they have the high praises of God in their mouth and a two-edged sword in their hand, to execute vengeance upon the heathen and punishments upon the people. But assuredly, it is not by blunting the edge of feeling that we are to make the task less diflficult, either of testifying to the world now, or of assisting in its judgment at the last. Eemember how he who was about to inflict his vengeance on Jerusalem, within the space of a few short years, yet himself, beholding the city, wept over it. Be ye like-minded and like-hearted with him. His soul was tender ; let yours be tender too. Only let your soul be tender, as his was, in reference to what touches the honour of God as well as in reference to what affects the welfare of man. Be zealous for God. Be indignant against sin. Be compassionate to sinners. So will you sympathise the more with him, who, dealing with sin, cried in an agonj", " Father, let the cup pass," and dealing with sinners, prayed for them on his cross, " Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." As to God, the God with Avhom you have to do, be sure that you apprehend his real and living personality, and in the truest sense, his humanity. Beware of worshipping a name, an idea, a dim abstraction, and, as it were, infinite vacancy of space. Be sure that he is the living and true God. There 276 god's ways not man's ways. may be danger in conceiving of liini as too like yourselves ; but there is danger also in conceiving of him as too unlike, — remote, withdrawn from your sympathies as well as from your senses, — somewhere and somehow existing in the universe, as the great first cause of all things, — not near you and with you as an actual living person with whom you are to have dealings, as the God in whom you live, and move, and have your being. And beware especially here lest in your anxiety to explain away what may seem to savour of human passion in the delineations the Scripture gives of God, you fritter down into empty, unmeaning phrases the terrible de- nunciations against sin and sinners. The anger of God, his wrath, his vengeance, his hatred of iniquity, his rage against the oppressor, — these are ideas that offend a refined taste, and are interpreted as little more than phrases, words full of sound and fury, but really signifying nothing. The expressions may be liable to abuse, if they suggest to us such false views'^of God as the heathen have DO (p their idols, when they conceive of them as hasty, irritable, impetuous, yet withal capricious, like themselves, easily pla- cable and soon appeased, when the fit of violent resent- ment is over, and a better humour succeeds. But on the other hand, let no man evade their literal force, — no man especially who has ever well weighed the Lord's uttering woe, woe, and triple woe, against the Scribes and Phari- sees, hypocrites. " God is angry with the wicked every day ;" and with his own people, too, when they provoke him by their sins. And his anger is a real emotion, fierce, terrible. If it be kindled but a little, it will burn as a fire. Who, then, can dwell with its everlasting burnings 1 " It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God." Sinners, in the hands of an angry God, how can ye contend with his fury as an adversary 1 Eather hear his voice of tender expostula- tion, and oh, believe that he is in earnest, and feels aU that he god's ways not man's ways. 277 says when he appeals to you with such human tenderness, — "Turn ye, turn ye, why will ye die V " Let the wicked for- sake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts : and let him return unto the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him ; and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon. For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts " (vers. 7, 8, 9). III. K'ow we may partly understand the real import of this text, in which God bears so emphatic a testimony. "Is this the manner of man, 0 Lord God 1 " Such was the exclamation of David, upon a review of all that the Lord had done for him as well as a consideration of all that the Lord was promising to him, as his reign was drawing to a close. So may every child of David, every true follower of Jesus, much more exclaim. So may he respond to the Lord's appeal concerning himself. " My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord." In that appeal, the Lord comes forth to tell you that he does not mean to treat you either as you have treated him, or as you, were you in a position like his, might treat others situ- ated as you are now. As to your actual thoughts and ways towards God, how emphatically and affectingly true is it that they are not as God's towards you. He never yet has dealt with you after your sins, or rewarded you according to your iniquities. He never has forgotten you, as you have forgotten him ; or ceased to care for you, as you have ceased to care for him ; or cast you utterly away, as you have rejected him. Oh ! what a contrast between what has been so long in your heart towards him and what has all along been in his heart towards you ! In your heart towards him, what wounded pride, what hard 278 god's ways not man's ways. thoughts, what unworthy suspicions, what grudging even of the scanty, meagre, formal service that mere fear would not suffer you to withhold from him, what excusing and justifying of yourselves when forced to meet him, and what a feeling of relief when you could contrive to get away ! All the while, in his heart towards you, what unwearied patience, what unpro- voked benignity, what disinterested compassion, what overflow- ing good will ; not a thought, not a feeling of dislike to you, no resentment, nothing but such love as moves him to give his own Son to die for you, and his blessed Spirit to strive with you in the ever urgent calls of the gospel of his grace. Is this the manner of man, 0 Lord God 1 And when you return to him, how is he prepared to treat you 1 l^ot certainly as you have heen treating him. There is no cold- ness, no distant civility, no upbraiding, no putting of you off with ceremony, as you have too long or too often been putting off him. His thoughts not being as your thoughts, he has made provision most ample for his ways not being as yours. He has prepared for you a reception very different from any you ever dreamed of preparing for him. He has caused the sacrifice to be slain beforehand. He has opened the fountain that cleanses from all sin. He has promised the new heart, without which you cannot be his : and, so far from being like you — distant, shy, suspicious, slow to take the first step, or condescend to the first move towards reconciliation, he waives even his right to demand a previous submission from you. Though the offended party, he will be himself the first suitor for peace ; he will come to you, and plead with you, and wait for you, and ask and seek and knock, and not let you alone until, feeling you can stand out no longer, you give way, and give in, and consent to be reconciled. Is this the manner of man, 0 Lord God 1 But not only do his thoughts and his ways towards you transcend your actual ways and thoughts towards him ; they god's ways not man's ways. 279 transcend also all that could have ever entered into your heart. You never could have imagined beforehand such a mode of dealing with returning sinners as God is pleased to adopt ; and even now that he has revealed it, and is giving you a spiritual discernment of it, you cannot fully realise it. For there is nothing in your nature that is an adequate counterpart to it ; nothing so nearly the same as to afford you an adequate measure of it. It is true, you can form a notion of kindness, generosity, self-sacrificing affection, and bounti- fulness and liberality ; but the full meaning of the com- parison between the heavens as higher than the earth, and his Avays and thoughts as higher than yours, you can know only if you can know first what is lowest in the earth, and what is highest in the heavens, and what is the vast space between. What is lowest in the earth 1 what but the sinner ; what but myself — myself, of sinners the chief ; sunk in the lowest depths of corruption, and guilt, and woe 1 What is highest in the heavens 1 Is it thou, 0 blessed Jesus, thou Son of the living God ; thou who dwellest in the bosom of the Father 1 Higher than thou art, or than is the Father's love to thee, nothing in all heaven ever was or ever can be. And what are God's thoughts now 1 what are his ways ? what is his plan and purpose of love 1 Is it not to span and bridge across this immeasurable distance between what is lowest in earth and what is highest in the heavens 1 The Son, in my stead, takes my lowest place in the earth, that I may share his highest place in the heavens. Literally then the measure of God's ways and thoughts of love, as transcending any thoughts and ways of yours, is the vast interval between highest heaven and lowest earth. That interval serves doubly to measure them. It measures them in connection with what Christ became for you. It measures them in connection also with what you become in 280 god's ways not man's ways. Christ. High indeed are the heavens above the earth ; high is that holy complacency between the Father and the Son in the heavens, above the guilty estrangement of your heart, 0 sinner, on the earth. Even so high are God's thoughts of love to you, and his ways of mercy with you, above all that could ever have entered into your mind. What hath he devised 1 what hath he done for you, 0 sinner 1 From the height of heaven he hath sent his own Son, that from the depths of this fallen earth he may raise you to what a height — even to a participation in the richest grace and glory of heaven itself ; for in Christ you have the adoption of sons. And what will he not freely give to you as his sons 1 What will be his thoughts of love, what the ways of his beneficence and bounty toward you] what but his very thoughts and ways toward his only-begotten Son 1 IV. The applications of this truth are as manifold as are the exigencies of human experience. Consider it in connec- tion with the freeness, the fulness, the peremptory authoritj', and the faithfulness of the call and promises of the gospel. (1) It is because his thoughts are not your thoughts that God justifies freely. He issues the invitation altogether gratuitously — " Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that hath no money : come ye, buy, and eat ; yea, come, buy wine and milk without money and without price. Wherefore do ye spend money for that which is not bread ? and your labour for that which satisfieth not? hearken diligently unto me, and eat ye that which is good, and let your soul delight itself in fatness" (vers. 1-2). " The Spirit and the bride say come." The pardon he dispenses is, in the strictest sense, unconditional ; and the only terms on which he will consent to treat with any of you are the terms of grace, abso- lutely gratuitous and free. On no other terms, indeed, could he consent to treat with you without compromising his own high god's ways not man's ways. 281 supremacy, and putting himself almost on a level with you. It may be well for a man like yourselves, with whom you have a controversy, to make the healing of your breach with him the removal of his threatened vengeance, and your restoration to a fair and decent good understanding a matter of bargain, and condition, and nice adjustment of preliminaries and terms ; but such is not the manner of God. His thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are his ways your ways. (2) For the same reason, the pardon he dispenses is very free, unreserved, as well as unconditional. It would not become him to do things by halves. If he is to have any friendly dealings at all with you, they must be thorough. K there is to be anything like reconciliation, it must be com- plete. Some, indeed, might advise otherwise. Affecting to be more prudent and cautious than God is himself ; to consult better for his violated authority, and be more alive to the risk and danger of his amnesty being abused, they would counsel a less frank and generous treatment of the returning sinner ; as if the elder son of the parable had stepped in officiously at an earlier stage, when his father was in the very act of embracing his lost one, to recommend caution as to the measure of favour bestowed — ^ay, my father, not so fast or so far. Not that I recommend severity ; not to drive to despair ; but to put on trial — reserve the kiss, the robe, the ring. What would have been the indignant reply 1 " Is thine eye evil because I am good V " Suffer it to be so now." Let me charge myself with the maintenance of order in my own house. And has not God so charged himself — made such provision, that to receive you otherwise than with com- plete favour, would be inconsistent, unsuitable, unworthy ? Was it for a mere half-reconciliation that Jesus died, and rose, and revived, and received of the Father the promise of the Spirit 1 No, but for the ratification of a perfect covenant 282 god's ways not man's ways. established, of perfect peace, opening the way to perfect reconciliation, and implying an eternity of perfect love and loyalty. And now, to make half terms of compromise on the footing of such a medium, might be the manner of men, but not thy manner, 0 Lord God. (3) But most peremptory, authoritative, sovereign, is the gospel call, as a call to repentance, as well as to reconcilia- tion. For it is not based, as that impunity on which sinners reckon is supposed to be, on any surrender on the part of God of his just claims, any accommodation of his thoughts to your thoughts, or of his ways to yours. The sinners of earth imagine God has somehow become more like themselves, more complaisant, more indulgent, more indifferent, l^ay, they dare to dream of this being the very benefit which the Son of God himself has purchased by his blood. They conceive of his interposition as making the Judge of all somehow less strict than he was before, and the God who cannot look on sin more tolerant of it and more tender towards it. This, this, is the very worst and most fatal form of the error against which the text is pointed — the measuring of God b}^ yourselves. It is a lie of the devil. It is blasphemy at least against the Son, and may too soon, if wilfully persisted in, become blasphemy against the Holy Ghost. " God is not mocked." It is not on terms involving any compromise of his claims or any relaxation of your duty that he deals with you. Such might be the manner of man ; but God acts very differently. There is no weakness with him ; no variableness or shadow of turning. He is the Holy One : he is the Almighty King. Dream not of his giving way or giving in to you. Give ye in to him, submit yourselves to him. Yield ! surrender ! obey ! Lord, I am thine. I resist no more. I stand out no more. Here am I — take me ! Deal with me according to thy good pleasure. I am at thy mercy, at thy disposal ! I god's ways not man's ways. 283 justify not myself ! I cannot save myself ! I am dumb ! I am in thy hands as one dead ! But thou wilt quicken me ; thou wilt raise me up ; thou wilt take hold on me ; thou wilt work in me ! Thou wilt wash me in atoning blood, and clothe me with a justifying righteousness, and put thine own Spirit within me : and, instead of lowering thyself to me, as I once imagined thou mightst do, thou wilt raise me to thyself But " is this the manner of man, 0 Lord God r Finally (4) The promises of God are and must be most faithful, because his thoughts are not our thoughts. " I am the Lord, I change not ; therefore ye sons of Jacob are not consumed." " He is not a man that he should lie, nor the Son of man that he should repent." When, therefore, he gives, he gives freely, fully, authoritatively, effectually, and for ever. " In a little wrath I hid my face from thee for a moment ; but with everlasting kindness will I have mercy on thee, saith the Lord thy Eedeemer." Yes, brethren, he will not grudge you any good thing. " He that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not with him also freely give us all things 1 " Ay, and when you find his grace more and more inexhaustible, you will have cause ever in new wonder to say with David : — " Who am I, 0 Lord God, and what is my house that thou hast brought me hitherto 1 And this was but a small thing in thy sight, 0 Lord God ; but thou hast spoken also of thy servant's house for a great while to come. And is this the manner of man, 0 Lord God ? " 284 god's faithful calling. XVIII. GOD'S FAITHFUL CALLING. '• God is faithful, by whom ye were called unto the fellowship of his Son Jesus Christ our Lord." — 1 Cor. i. 9. The faithfulness of God is to be viewed in connection with his calling you, as giving you the fullest possible assurance that he will perform and make good on your behalf whatever purpose or promise your being called by him may be fairly held to comprehend. He will do all that in calling you he has become expressly or virtually pledged to do. The question then is, To what are you called 1 what is the end of your calling ? For, whatever is needed for the accomphsh- ment of that end, the faithfulness of God makes it certain that he will do it. Now it is unto the fellowship of his Son Jesus Christ that you have been and are called ; that fellow- ship implying these two things ; first, union with Christ ; and secondly, as flowing from the union and implied in it, communion with Christ, or joint participation with him in what is his. Let us consider these two parts or elements of the fellowship ; and let us dwell on the faithfulness of God in both of them. Part First. — Union with Christ. The fellowship with his Son Jesus Christ our Lord, unto which you are called by God, implies union ; and the union is by faith. That indeed is the indispensable condition of god's faithful calling. 285 all fellowship when intelligent beings are the parties con- cerned ; union by faith ; by assent and consent. And the faith in this instance, that effects the union, is and must be itself wrought in you by him who calls you. Thus only can it be certain that the calling will be effectual, which the faithfulness of God requires that it shall be. How faithfully, accordmgly, does God deal with you all throughout in his so calling you as to make you one with his Son Jesus Christ our Lord. I. He is faithful in discovering to you your case. He tells you that you need his Son — that without him you perish. Your sin he brings before you, your guUt, your ruin. He does so in very faithfulness. His word is ijo prophet of smooth things ; his Spirit is no giver of false peace. His faithfulness you may at first dislike. It may seem to you like harshness and severity. You question the truth and fairness of the representations he gives, and the convictions he would force upon you, as to your state and character before him. You cannot feel your condition to be absolutely hopeless, your hearts to be altogether wrong towards God. You think it hard to be told that you can do nothing to right or reform yourselves. But you try. Moved by his Spirit you try in earnest to become altogether such as, being taught by the Spirit, you now own that you ought to be, and ought always to have been ; pure and holy, unselfish and loving, loving God supremely, loving your brethren and all men. It will not do. You cannot rid yourself of a growing apprehension of failure and defeat, of bondage and wrath. The hurt is not to be healed as you hoped. The plague is deep. The past cannot be undone. You cannot answer for the future. And alas for the evil that is ever present with you ! The testimony of God, you find, is true. The discovery which he makes to you of your criminality and 286 god's faithful calling. corruption, your sin and death, may not be welcome. But in calling you to the knowledge of it, God is faithful. II. God is faithful in commending to you his Son, Jesus Christ. He commends him as the object of his own con- fidence and esteem, and therefore worthy to be the object of yours. " Behold my servant, whom I have chosen ; mine elect, in whom my soul delighteth." " This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased." " Look," he cries, " ye lost ones ! behold the ransom I have found for you — the Eedeemer, the Saviour — possessed of all the qualifications, perfect in all the conditions needful for meeting your sad case ; near to me as my fellow, near to you also as yours ; having all the fulness of the Godhead dwelling in him bodily ; grace poured into his lips, glory crowning his head, love burning in his heart." In this testimony concerning his Son, God is faithful. You did not always feel this. Once you gave no heed, no credit, to his testimony. Christ and his gospel were in- difierent to you. Or they presented to you a repulsive, gloomy aspect. You saw no beauty in him why you should desire him. Or you formed a notion of him all your own. You made him out to be a mere indulgent pleader for pardon, an apologist of your errors ; and, as such, you thought that you could love him. But now God discovers to you your- selves and his Son. God shows you what you are, and what he is, whose mediation you have been abusing. You see his Son in a new light, his excellency and beauty, his suitableness and sufficiency, the transcendent worth of his righteousness, the exhaustless efficacy of his blood ; all that is attractive in his person, as Immanuel, God with us ; all that is satisfying to the divine law and the human conscience in his vicarious obedience and atoning death; all that is of power to save in his resurrection, his ascension, his receiving god's faithful calling. 287 of the Father the promise of the Spirit, liis beiug Head over all things to tlie church, his coming again to receive his people to himself — all that is gracious, all that is glorious, in him, the Spirit of God enables you spiritually to discern. And you feel that in calling j^ou to the knowledge of his Son Jesus Christ, and commending him to you as the very Saviour you need, God is faithful. III. In presenting to you his Son Jesus Christ, God pre sents him to you, in free gift, as yours — yours if you will but have him to he yours. And in this also, in this pre-eminently, God is faithful. Alas for your prolonged hesitation here ! Beforehand, it is, as it were, a leap in the dark that you are required to make. You are trembling on the highest pinnacle of a tottering tower. You hear a voice bidding you cast yourself into unseen arms ready to receive you at its base. jN"o doubt have you as to your own perilous position ; the last stone on which you can for a moment plant your precarious foot is crumbling and giving way. No doubt have you as to the love that thrills the voice to which you listen, or the strength that nerves the stretched-out arms to embrace you. But the plunge ! To let go your last hold of what you stand on, and cast yourself, as it were, on the viewless air — this gives you pause. Call after call is addressed to you, assuring you that you have nothing to fear, that all is ready for you, that now is the time. Will you not take heart of grace at last '? You will assuredly find that he who has been calling you is faithful. Something of this sort of adventurous self-abandonment there often is — always indeed more or less — in the experience of those whom the Holy Spirit is shutting up into Christ. It is the critical hour, the time of decision, the last agony of 288 god's faithful calling. the death of the old life, the birth-throe of the new life. It is eye meeting eye in a quick glance of mutual intelligence ; it is heart meeting heart in a throb of mutual sympathy ; and Christ and you are for ever one ! You have been standing face to face ; you, a perishing sinner, face to face with Christ, a loving Saviour ; you, alive to your need of him ; he, yearning over you, as needing you. You have been fairly driven from all the strongholds of your natural confidence. All refuge fails you. Naked and alone you are sinking self-condemned into the pit. Beside you, very near to you, is that Holy One whose blood cleanseth from all sin. "Come unto me, and I will give you rest !" is bis own earnest cry. " This is my beloved Son ; hear him," is his Father's gracious call. Oh ! wherefore should your heart fail you 1 " Taste and see that he is good." Prove him. Venture your soul, yourself, your all, once for all, on Clirist. God is faithful, by whom ye are called to do so. IV. And this calling of God is without repentance. There is no change of mind, no change of heart with him in regard to it. He who hath called you is faithful. Here also — Try his faithfulness — put it to the proof. Be ever trying it ; be ever putting it to the proof. And how 1 Not surely by raising the old doubts and questions again ; but by con- tinually repeated exercises, continually renewed acts, of the very faith by which you embraced Christ, or suffered him to embrace you at the first. And, as at the first, so still to the very last, this faith will partake of the nature of a venture, the venturing of yourselves upon Christ. It is a continued, prolonged casting of yourselves into his open arms, into his open bosom. There may, alas ! be interruptions, seasons of dark unbelief, of grievous backsliding, of shameful sin. But, god's faithful calling. 289 " Eeturn, 0 backsliding Israel " is the call ; and he is faith- ful who calleth. Eepent of your love waxing cold, repent, and do the first works. So God is even now calling you to be one with his Son Jesus Christ. Consent, comply now ; not because you have consented and complied before, but because God is faithful by whom ye are called now. It is a new venture every moment ; the same always, yet ever new. Or if former instances, in past experience, come in at all, it is but to nerve the soul for the new, shall I say, the last venture of all. " I know in whom I have believed, and I am persuaded that he is able to keep what I have committed to him against that day." Such is the faithfulness of God in his calling you unto a fellowship of union with his Son Jesus Christ our Lord. 1. He calls you to the knowledge of yourselves — your alienation from him, your guilt in his sight. And however the testimony may offend your natural self-complacency, yet, the Spirit convincing you, you own its truth, and confess that God is faithful. 2. He calls you to the knowledge of his Son, the Son of his own love, whom he commends to your love as a brother. And however the humiliation of his cross may mortify your natural self-righteousness, yet the Spirit enlightening you, you see how, hanging on that very cross, he is the very brother you need, a brother born for your adversity ; and you feel that in commending him to you in that character, God is faithful. 3. He calls you to close with this Christ, to receive him, to embrace him — to let his Son deal with you as a loving elder brother — to let him clasp you to his heart, and take you home. And however you may hang back long — from whatever cause — suspicion, distrust, disaffection, — yet, the Spirit making you willing in the day of his power, you venture yourself in the arms of the beloved One, and find, U 290 god's faithful calling. and are blessed in finding, tliat wlien he calls you to believe and live, God is faithful. 4. He calls you to abide in his Son, to prolong, to perpet- uate your union with him, by continually renewed acts and ex- ercises of the same faith by which you appropriate him at the first. And however through your manifold infirmities and falls you may too often lose your hold of him, or your sense of the hold he has of you, yet, the Spirit reviving you, you make trial again, and ever again and again, of the old " faithful say- ing, worthy of all acceptation, that Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners, of whom," you cry, " I am chief." And as you feel that that saying will bear the weight of your soul's heaviest burden of guilt and woe in your darkest hour, you venture once more to hope and to rejoice with trembling. For faithful is he that calls you to be one for ever with his Son Jesus Christ our Lord. Part Second — Communion or Joint Participation. In your being called by God, you are united to his Son. And the union infers communion or joint-participation with him in what is his. You are one with him in such a sense, and to such an effect, as to have all things in common : — I. Common interests ; II. A common character ; III. A common history. I. Your interests are in common, Christ's and yours ; your joint interests in the rigliteous government, the high and holy moral administration of God. Now, his interests here are two-fold : the interests which he has originally, as the Son of God, and the interests which he has in his mediatorial character, as his Son, Jesus Christ, our Lord. 1. As to the first, the interests which he has originally, as the Son, in the vast scheme of God's universal em- god's faithful calling. 291 pire, — these are and must be essentially identical with those of the Father. He is the Son whom God hath appointed heir of all things. Hence all things were created by him and for him, and he upholdeth all things by the word of his power. The design of the whole work of creation, and of the works • of providence, is to carry into effect the eternal purpose and decree of God, appointing his Son to be heir of all things. Looked at in this light, the interests which he has in the unfolding of the great volume of the universe may be summed up in this one petition, which once he offered on earth, which he may be regarded as offering from the begin- ning in heaven, " Father glorify thy Son, that thy Son may also glorify thee." In this petition of his, in that appoint- ment to be heir of all things on which it proceeds, you are to be partakers with him. You are sons and therefore heirs, heirs of God, and joiut heirs with him. " He that overcom- eth shall inherit all things." 2. But you reach this participation with Christ in the interests which he has, as the Son, in the plan of God's universal government, through your participation with him in the interests which he has in it in his mediatorial character, not as Son and Lord, and heir merely : but first as a subject. In his case, however, the two cannot be separated. The con- cern which he has in the moral administration of God, now that, being made of a woman, made under the law, he be- comes himself amenable to it, cannot supersede the concern which he has in it originally, as the Son, appointed to be heir of all things. He is still interested as much as ever in the stabiHty of that throne which he is himself to occupy ; in the upholding of tliat authority which he is himself to wield ; in the magnifying and making honourable of that law accord- ing to whose holy standard of loyalty and love he is himself to rule among his holy ones for ever. 292 god's faithful calling. But this is not all. Not only does he become a subject ; he becomes also a criminal. He takes the place of subjects who have offended, and their guilt is imputed to him. He is made sin. Sin, in its exceeding sinfulness, its righteous condemnation, its inevitable doom of death, is laid upon him to bear. Are there not conflicting interests now 1 Is the loud cry, " Father, save me from this hour," — is the prayer of agony, " Father, if it be possible, let the cup pass from me," an indication that there are 1 Is he distracted between the interests which, as not only a subject, but in the eye of law a criminal, he has in God's administration, and the interests which he has in it as the Son appointed to be heir of all things 1 No, but the reconciling of them is to cost him much, not less than the fulfilment of all that the subject owes, and the endurance of all that the criminal deserves. He is one in interest and concern with God, as the Son, the heir. He is one in interest and concern with you, whose nature he shares, whose place he assumes, whose debt he under- takes, whose sin he bears. And the glory of his cross is this : — that in it, the seemingly opposite interests are identi- fied ; and the criminal, the subject, the criminal expiating crime, the subject fidfilling all righteousness, is identically the same in person, mind, and purpose, with the Son, the heir of all things. Now in all this you are called by God unto a fellowship of communion with his Son Jesus Christ. You are called to be partakers with him in his sufferings, as a criminal, to expiate his crime — in his obedience, as a subject, to fulfil all righteousness — and in his title, as the Son, to be heir of all things. The removal of guilt, acceptance, adoption, are thus yours — yours, in an order the reverse of that in which he in whom they are yours is presented to you. god's faithful calling. 293 The Son, the subject, the criminal ; the Son appointed heir of all things, the subject bound to obey, the criminal laden with the guilt of disobedience — these are the successive aspects in which he appears. You are called to joint partici- pation with him in these three positions — as the criminal, the subject, the Son ; the criminal taking your condemnation on himself. There is therefore now no condemnation to you who are in Christ, the subject rendering all obedience in your stead ; in whose righteousness you are righteous, the Son appointed on your behalf to be heir of all things, with whom, as sons in him, you are joint-heirs. All throughout God is faithful to recognise and own your community of interests with his Son Jesus Christ. He treats you as one with him unto whose fellowship you are called. He cleanses you as Jesus was cleansed, when sin, being atoned for, was imputed to him no more. He accepts you, as Jesus was accepted when, having brought in an everlasting righteous- ness, he was raised from the dead. He makes you his sons as Jesus is his Son ; — whose freedom in the house you now receive, whose Spirit is now in you crying, " Abba, Father ; " — loving you as he loveth him ; glorifying you as he glorifies him. Your pardon, your peace, your inheritance of all things, are all secure to you. " For God is faithful by whom ye are called unto the fellowship of his Son Jesus Christ, our Lord." And that fellowship is a fellowship of interests. "All things are yours ; whether Paul or ApoUos, or Cephas, or the world, or life, or death, or things present, or things to come ; all are yours ; and ye are Christ's ; and Christ is God's." II. The fellowship with his Son Jesus Christ, unto which you are called by God, is a fellowship of character. It im- plies that you are partakers of the same moral nature. If you are to have common interests with Christ, you must have a common character, a common mind, a common nature with 294 god's faithful calling. him also. His interests never can be yours, unless his character, his mind, his nature, is also yours. For what are his interests ? The same as yours in one view ; for he takes your place as subjects under the law, as criminals under the curse. He has a common interest with you, to have the claims of law relaxed, that obedience may be the easier, to have the penalty of sin remitted, that atonement may be the lighter. But no. Subject as he is, criminal as he must be reckoned to be for you, his interests are still the interests of the Son appointed to be heir of all things. And your sympathies must be with him. You must have a fellow-feeling with him. An eye to see, a heart to feel, what the interests you have in common with him really are, must be yours. And what eye can that be but the very eye which he fixed so steadfastly on his Father's glory 1 What heart but the very heart which in him beat so high, and strong, and true, in unison with his Father's will 1 This community of nature and character with him is in- dispensable, if you are to have community of interests. Unto that, accordingly, you are called. And he by whom you are called is faithful ; faithful to make you partakers, in his Son Jesus Christ, of the divine nature. For this end he has given you exceeding great and precious promises ; promises of a new heart and a right spirit ; promises of complete renewal to accompany complete acceptance ; the Sj)irit of adoption, the Spirit of his Son, to go along with and bring out your adoption as sons ; and he is faithful to fulfil them all. On his faithfulness you may confidently rel}^, both for the first beginning, and for the subsequent progress, of this gxeat work of your sanctification. For both, he calls you unto the fellowship of his Son Jesus Christ, making you and keeping you one with him. Be ye then shut up into Christ. Be ye always abiding in Christ. Be ye shut up into Christ, in god's faithful calling. 295 whom you are new creatures, seeing all things in a new light — in the light of God, who hath reconciled you to himself by him. Be ye always abiding in Christ, drinking into his Spirit, drawing your life from him, and learning more and more to think and feel as he did, in all that touches the glory of his Father, in all that concerns the doing of his Father's will. Be ye thus faithful on your part, for God is faithful, and wOl more and more bring you into the fellow- ship of a common character with his Son, as you more and more grow up into him. Wherefore " work out your own salvation with fear and trembling. For it is God who worketh in you both to will and to do of his good pleasure." III. Having common interests and a common character, you may expect to be called by God unto the fellowship of a common history with his Son Jesus Christ. His history may be drawn out at length ; but it may be compressed also under these five leading heads — a birth, a baptism, a work, a cross, a crown. 1. God calls you unto the fellowship of his Son Jesus Christ, in his birth. Your new birth is your fellowship, your participation with Christ in his birth. Both are by the Spirit ; both are new entrances into the kingdom of God. And in both his faithfulness appears. In the birth of Christ God is seen to be faithful — faithful to his word of promise, " Behold, a virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel " — faithful to the song which, by anticipation, he puts into the church's mouth, " Unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given." Nor is God less faithful in calling you unto the fellow- ship of his Son Jesus Christ in this birth of his. For it is by the same Spirit by whom he was born that you are born again. Born of the Spirit, you enter into the kingdom of God as he, the Son, did, when, being in the form of God, he 296 god's faithful calling. became man. You are ushered into a new state ; you receive a new life ; you are before God as he was when he lay a new-born babe in the manger of Bethlehem ; accounted blame- less, righteous, acceptable to God and well-pleasing in his sight, as that holy child was, when he, for you, born of the Spirit, entered, as a subject, into the kingdom, of which he is the Lord, Thus faithfully does God deal with you when he makes you one with his Son Jesus Christ in his won- drous birth. 2. In his baptism also, you are called by God unto the fellowship of his Son Jesus Christ, He was baptized with the Holy Ghost. God gave not the Spirit by measure unto him. The Holy Spirit, descending upon him like a dove, marked him out as the beloved Son, in whom the Father is well pleased; and strengthened him for the work which, as the Son and servant of the Father, he had to do. In this, the faithful- ness of God appeared ; for it had been written, " The Spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him ; " "I have put my Spirit upon him." And the faithfulness of God equally appears in his baptizing you, as he baptized him, with the Holy Ghost. The Spirit is promised to seal your acceptance as he sealed Christ's ; to attest your sonship as he attested Christ's ; to fit you, as he fitted Christ, for all your warfare and service as the children of God in the world. 3. In Christ's history, his being born of the Spirit and his being baptized with the Spirit, were preparatory to his work ; a lifelong work ; the work to which he referred when at the age of twelve he put the question to Mary and Joseph, " Wist ye not that I must be about my Father's business ] " the work which he had in his mind when he appealed to his Father at the last ; " I have glorified thee upon the earth ; I have finished the work which thou gavest me to do." You are called by God unto fellowship with his Son Jesus Christ in this work of his. god's faithful calling. 297 A fellowship of worth or merit in it, you cannot and you would not challenge otherwise than through representation, substitution, imputation and appropriation ; but a fellowship of consent and sympathy it is your privilege to claim. Born of the Spirit, baptized with the Spirit, you would fain be partakers with Christ in what constituted the real excellency and essential virtue of his whole work, his entire surrender and dedication of himself to do the will of God. And so you are, and so you ought to be. For " God is faithful, by whom you are called unto the fellowship of his Son Jesus Christ our Lord," in this very grace of willing and unreserved submission expressed in his words — " I came not to do my own will, but the will of him that sent me." 4. The history of Christ, besides a birth, a baptism, a work, has a cross ; and his own emphatic words are, " If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me." You suffer with him. You fill up in your persons the measure of the sufferings of Christ. You are partakers of his sufferings. " Count it not strange, brethren, that ye fall into divers temptations." "There hath no temptation befallen you but such as is common to man. And God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able, but will with the temptation make a way of escape, that ye may be able to bear it." " There hath no temptation befallen you but such as is common to man." Nay, we may say, there is no temptation, no trial, no suffering, or shame, or sorrow that can befall you, which is not common to Christ and you to- gether. You suffer with Christ. You go forth unto him without the camp, bearing his reproach. And he is with you in your suffering. The reproaches of them that reproach you fall on him. In all your affliction he is afflicted. This fellowship of suffering with his Son Jesus Christ, unto which you are called by God, may be very painful often ; 298 god's faithful calling. but it is very precious, very blessed. A common misery makes men wondrous kind. Any two of you, thrown to- gether in heavy grief, or in a fiery trial, find your hearts marvellously knit together. The little flock, persecuted on every side, forced to leave fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, become all fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers to one another. So in the fellowship of his sufferings, in the fellowship of his cross, Christ and you are like two metals in the furnace, more and more thoroughly welded into one. Then doubt not that it is in very faithfulness that God afflicts you. Doubt not that God is faithful when in much tribulation he calls you unto the fellowship of his Son Jesus Christ. 5. As the history of Christ, in respect of which you are called by God unto his felloAvship, has a birth, a baptism, a work, a cross — so also it has a crown. It issues and ends in glory. And in the glory, as in the toil, and suffering, and shame, you have fellowship with him. For God is faithful ; and having called you to be partakers of the sufferings of his Son, he will not fail to make you partakers of his glory also. What that glory is we may partly learn from the Lord's own prayer : " Father, I will that they also whom thou hast given me be with me where I am, that they may behold my glory which thou hast given me, for thou lovedst me before the foundation of the world." It is the manifestation of the Father's love to him, that love which from everlasting prompted the decree by which the Son is appointed heir of all things. In the full blaze of that glory of the Father's manifested love, he would have you to be with him. And he shall. "For God is faithful, by whom your are called unto his fellowship." He will leave nothing in it or about it incomplete. If you suffer with his Son, God will see to it, in very faithfulness, that you are also glorified together. This is the hope set before you. This is your recompense god's faithful calling. 299 of reward. This is the prize of your high calling in Christ Jesus your Lord. Mark its most distinctive characteristic. It is not glory given to you by Christ ; it is not glory given to you through Christ, it is participation with him in his glory. The husbandmen to whom, when they had stoned and beaten messenger after messenger, the owner of the vine- yard at last resolves to send his son, saying, " It may be they will reverence him," cry with one voice as he draws near to them, " This is the heir ; come, let us kill him, and the inheritance shall be ours." No such inheritance, got in such a way, could ever satisfy you. "What foretaste you have of the inheritance here is welcome only because in it you have fellowship with the Son. It is the Spirit of the Son that is sent forth, crying in you, Abba, Father. " My peace I give unto you : " " My joy is to remain in you ; " are the Lord's own precious words. And so it is as to the glory of the inheritance itself To be joint heirs with Christ is your desire ; to be with him as he is ; to be at home with him among the many mansions of his Father's house ; to be at home with him in the deep affections of his Father's heart ; to behold how the Father loveth him ; and to have fellowship with him in the love wherewith the Father loveth him, and in its full manifestation ; that is your glory ! Ah ! when that glory comes, will you not cast your crowns at the feet of him whose crown you share, and testify that he who has called you unto such a fellowsliip Avith his Son in his glory is indeed faithful 1 Yes ! In that day his faithfulness will fully appear ; then, and not till then. Ah ! how in that day will you look back on all the way by which God has led you, from his first commending of his Son to you and shutting you up to embrace him, forward through the whole course of your fellowship with Christ here 300 god's faithful calling. below. " Often, often I was tempted," you will say, " to doubt, to distrust bis faithfulness. Many a misgiving, many a questioning, many a fear bad I. But all is clear now. I see it all. He has been leading me forth by the right way, that I might go to a city of habitation. Yes ; God is faithful, by whom I was called unto the fellowship of his Son. Jesus Christ." CHRIST THE POWER AND WISDOM OF GOD. 301 XIX. CHRIST THE POWER AND WISDOM OF GOD. " But unto them which are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God, and the wisdom of God." — 1 Cor. i. 24. " But of him are ye in Christ Jesus, who of God is made unto us wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption. " — 1 CoK. i. 30. The two leading thoughts in this passage are, what Christ crucified is, as of God ; and what Christ crucified is, as of God, to us who are of God in him. As of God, Christ cruci- fied is power and wisdom ; the power of God and the wisdom of God. As of God to us, Christ crucified is made wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption ; or, briefly, wisdom and power. Eor these three particulars, righteousness, sanctification, and redemption, may be brought under the one general head of power. These then are the two topics of our discourse. But first, and as preliminary to our discussion of them, I must ask you to consider the states of mind to which Christ crucified is neither the power of God nor the wisdom of God ; but only a stumblingblock and foolishness : " For the Jews require a sign, and the Greeks seek after wisdom : But we preach Christ crucified, unto the Jews a stumblingblock, and unto the Greeks foolishness (1 Cor. i. 22, 23). Two ideas of Deity are natural to the natural mind ; the one more rude, coarse, and material ; the other more refined and spiritual. The one is the idea of vast physical force ; the 302 CHEIST THE POWER AND WISDOM OF GOD. other is tlie idea of consummate intelligence and skill. Hence result two distinct schools or forms of what may- be called natural religion ; the religion congenial to fallen man. Viewed in that aspect of grandeur in which it first strikes the eye, all nature suggests the vivid notion of power ; of giant strength and resistless might. The abrupt forms and immense proportions of earth's broken surface, as it shows everywhere the tokens and remains of terrible convulsions and wondrous reconstructions ; the agencies still always and every- where at work ; the rolling clouds, the thunder's voice, the lightning flash ; stormy winds, tenij)ests, hurricanes, deso- lating the plain, and lashing ocean into fury ; earthquakes, volcanoes, eclipses ; portents and signs in the sunlit or in the starry heavens ; these all, not to speak of the living monsters and wild beasts of prey, swarming in the woods and waves, might well, in the primeval world, foster the idea of a Being having a mighty arm, and a voice on the waters full of majesty. Wonder, terror, awe, are the instinctive emotions of the new-born, and, alas ! newly fallen, race of man. Apart from the revealed word of grace, which comparatively few accept, the earliest type of religion that suggests itself to the human heart is a vague sense of superior or supernatural power. But, as wonder wears away, nature begins to be questioned as well as gazed at. Its stupendous processes are investi- gated, and more or less clearly understood. Its march and movements are more or less satisfactorily accounted for. The very lightning of heaven is imitated or reproduced by human art on earth. Fire, vapour, electric sparks, galvanic shocks, — the forces which cause creation's death-struggles and birth- throes, become the servants and ministers of human science, to be wielded by the feeblest arm and appUed to the com- monest purposes and uses. Nothing continues to surprise. CHRIST THE POWEK AND WISDOM OF GOD. 303 Men cease to be merely amazed, and alarmed, and stupefied. Knowledge now alone is power. Intelligence is the only God! Such, I think, is the natural history or genesis of all uninspired religion, whether in its polytheistic or in its pan- theistic tendency. It is either the worship of mere force or forces, above nature, or else the worship of nature itself, as the impersonation, or embodiment, or expression, of intelli- gence and mind. The former belongs chiefly to the fresh infancy of human thought, when the faculty of wonder is all entire, and the facility of objective faith. The latter springs from the less picturesque, but more subtle habit which maturer reflection is apt to form. Eeal j^ersonal gods, endowed with resistless physical power, peopled the busy heaven of primeval heathenism. An impersonal and ideal spirit of design, as the all-pervading and all-embracing essence of the universe, is the cold abstraction that seeks to satisfy the refined wisdom of a riper age. JS'ow, vulgar traditionary Judaism, in the apostle's day, might well represent the first of the two tendencies I have been noticing. The religious speculations of Greek philo- sophy might stand for the type of the other : " For the Jews require a sign, and the Greeks seek after wisdom " (ver. 22). The Jews require a sign. They were a wonder-loving people from the beginning ; accustomed, through all their history, to prodigies. It might almost seem as if God was to them little more than a giver of signs. !N"or was it any sign that would content them. They had become greedy in their demand for marvels. They must have the terrors of Egypt and the Eed Sea, the sublimities of Sinai, the judg- ments and deliverances of the wilderness, with its angels' food, its water from the flinty rock, its fiery serpents, its yawning gulph to swallow up apostates, its glowing cloudy piUar marching over the Arabian sands ; these, and such 304 CHRIST THE POWER AND WISDOM OF GOD. signs as these ; not to speak of other and later instances of Jehovah's arm visibly made bare ; they must have matched or surpassed in the proofs of any new era or dispensation to be introduced among them. Hence the Lord's simple and significant deeds of mercy failed to convince them. Their cry was still for a sign ; a sign of his commission, his authority, to do these very miracles. And the sign must be on a scale and after a style corresponding to the wonders of old. Show us a sign from heaven. Our fathers did eat manna in the wilderness. Let the like credentials attest and illustrate thy Messiahship. This morbid rage for the supernatural on the part of the Jewish, or any other, vulgar ; this gaping after wonders in air, earth, sea, and sky ; — see how it calls up a smile of calm contempt in that academic sage or sophist, with scarcely curled lip and slightly supercilious brow, who has allegorised, or spiritualised, in his wisdom, the whole gross mythology of Greece ! Yes ! he can afford to smile at the popular belief, while he himself sees in it, with all its intricacies and abomi- nations, its vile plots of gods and heroes, only a recondite system of universal nature ; a veiled portraiture of the various processes of birth, decay, and reproduction, that are ever going on among its tribes. This is the god of his idolatry. He first dissects, and then deifies, nature. He masters all her functions and operations in his keen search after in- fluences and causes. And having got, as he imagines, behind the scenes, and reached the very springs of motion and life, he admires, in the whole scheme which he thinks he has thus grasped, little else than the image of his own sagacity in grasping it. Then he carries the same spirit into the domain of mind and morals, and the higher speculations which touch the destiny of the soul. There too he would refine away all the real substantial doctrines of individual immortality and judicial reckoning, and eternal retribution j an actual CHRIST THE POWER AND WISDOM OF GOD. 305 heaven and an actual hell. !N"othing remains at last but mere abstract infinite thought, without character, without history, without law : " The world by wisdom knew not God." Thus the extremes of all-knowing science, ashamed to wonder at anything, and stupid star-gazing bewilderment, looking out for wonders everywhere, meet in a denial of the one only all-wise and almighty God. The Jew, vaguely clamouring for a sign that may appeal to his mere sense of the marvellous, and the Greek, politely smiling at all marvels, and affecting to embrace all things in heaven and earth in his philosophy ; both alike miss what is lying at their door ; what alone has in it anything, — what alone has in it every- thing,— of the Godhead that is attainable here below ; the Christ whom we preach ; Christ crucified ; Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. I. Consider now this Christ as the power of God and the wisdom of God. He is so essentially, being true and very God, the Eternal Son of the Father, the "Word which in the beginning was with God, and was God. And as the Word made flesh, Immanuel, God manifest in the flesh, he is still, in his person, character, and work, the power of God and the wisdom of God. Eut now, to conceive of him aright in this view, it is necessary to inquire what sort of power, what sort of wisdom he is ; or, in other words, to distinguish carefully power, as the power of God ; wisdom, as the wisdom of God, from the broken images of these elements of majesty which pass for power and wisdom among men. "With us, power is com- monly violent, and wisdom artful, ingenious, inventive. "We measure power by the din, and noise, and tumult it creates ; we measure wisdom by its shrewd guesses and apt contri- vances and plans. But nothing of all this is to be found X 306 CHEIST THE POWER AND WISDOM OF GOD. about the holy Jesus ! He makes no miglity stir when he exerts his power. He surprises by no mere exercise of in- genuity when he manifests his wisdom. Calmness, simpli- city, repose, and what might almost be called unconscious- ness, are the features that most distinguish his manner. There is nothing fitful or capricious in Christ as the power of God ; nothing hke the putting forth of a giant's or a tyrant's might. There is nothing strained, and refined, or artful, in Christ as the wisdom of God. His wisdom is not mere knowing or cunning. Power with him is serene and unim- passioned. Wisdom with him is always self-possessed ; calm and clear in the unruffled fulness of its infinite forethought, and foresight, and insight. And hence the grandeur of his character. Excitement may be great, but repose is greater. Samson, among his enemies, is terrible for the blows he wildly deals. Hushai, David's friend at the court of Absalom, is admirable for the tact with which he turns the counsel of Ahithophel to foolishness. But more sublime by far is the eye that smote Peter's heart, and the voice that knew so well to speak a word in season to the weary ! The power of Jesus in working mu'acles is a quiet look or word. He speaks and it is done. The wisdom of Jesus in all his teaching is the pure transparency of truth. He speaks as one having autho- rity, and not as the scribes. The testimony is true : " K'ever man spake hke this man ! " Now it is as being thus in himself, personally, the power of God and the wisdom of God, that Christ is constituted and appointed, officially, to be the head of all principality and power. The government is upon his shoulders. As being the power of God and the wisdom of God, he is the represen- tative to you of him with whom you have to do ; either now, for peace, or at the last, for judgment. His being the power of God and the wisdom of God brings out the principle and manner of all the Lord's dealings with you. Into his hands. CHRIST THE POWER AND WISDOM OF GOD. 307 and to his disposal, you are, one and all of you, whether will- ingly or against your will, given over. And it is as bearing upon that view of your position, that you are most deeply concerned to know how, in what sense, and to what effect, Christ is the power of God and the wisdom of God. Take, for instance, first, his government of the world now, his providence alike over the godly and over the unjust. How few consider this rightly ! What really is my position here, as consciously a criminal, having broken the law of God, and incurred its righteous and inevitable doom ? I am in the grasp of one who, as to power, can crush my utmost strength ; and who, as to wisdom, can baffle my shrewdest scheme. Yes ! But my strength is not thus crushed, my scheme is not thus baffled, however they may both be against God. Hence I dream of escaping his arm, and eluding his eye ! Were he, as my adversary, meeting me at every turn ; matching his force, at every effort I make, with mine ; and counterworking every plot of mine, as it is hatched, by a deeper and more dexterous poHcy of his own ; — were he thus, ever in detail, and step by step, measuring his strength directly \vith my strength, and closely tracking every turn and wind- ing of the subtle spirit of evil within me ; then, by actual contact and resistance, I might feel the reality of that power which I so madly brave, and that omniscient wisdom which I so vainly seek to outmanoeuvre or to outwit. But he lets me alone. There is no palpable pressure of his hand against my hand ; no trace of his keen eye detecting and defeating each several device of my wily course of sin. He smites not. He speaks not. It might almost seem that he cares not, that he sees not. Hence guilt in my conscience waxes bold and defiant ; and guile in my spirit, the guile of self-excuse and self-justification, becomes more and more seductive, satisfying, and soothing. Alas ! I forget that he in whose hands I am is not one to bandy stroke for stroke, or stratagem for 308 CHRIST THE POWER AND WISDOM OF GOD. stratagem, with me. His is a far more formidable power. His is a far more awful wisdom. Silent he sits on high, while I, a worm of the dust, am exhausting the resources of my impotent force and fraud in desperate struggles to get the better of him, or to get away from him ; rejecting his blessed gospel ; resisting his gracious Spirit ; and all the while trying to persuade myself that his power, after all, may not actually be put forth so as to reach to my utter destruction ; and that his wise and holy searching may stop short of inexorable detection and discovery, and arrest, and judgment. Oh ! to be awakened in time from this delusion, and made to know, by the Spirit's living and experimental teaching, that it is not power and wisdom expended beforehand, in petty skirmishing, as it were, that is most to be dreaded by the children of guilt and guile ; but power and wisdom held in reserve for one final and irrevocable reckoning. It is hard to kick against the pricks, or evade the eye of him before whom hell is open. It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God. Who may stand before the wrath of the Lamb, when the great day of his wrath is come, and, in the character of Judge, he appears, the power of God and the wisdom of God, to render to every one according to his works ] The power of the Judge then, who may defy 1 His wisdom, who may question 1 Dare I venture next, secondly, to raise the curtain that hides the abode of misery beyond all time? The lost ! They who have fallen into the hands of the living God ! What a wall of brass is all around ; what a keen, searching, blasting, withering light is all above the dark pit and prison of their doom ! And how is the horror enhanced by the fixedness and passionless repose of the power and wisdom that together hold them fast in the vengeance of eternal fire ! Were it power with which they could grapple CHRIST THE POWER AND WISDOM OF GOD. 309 in the impetuous strife of a hand-to-hand engagement ; were it wisdom with which they coukl keep up a game of ever new craftiness and subtle shifts, they might, though defeated, have a sort of desperate solace in the excitement of such per- sonal battle and the angry feelings of defiance they might thus vent against their tormentor. Some such idea the grand tragic poet of ancient Greece has embodied in his sublime and awful picture of a human spirit, brave and shrewd, plunged into hot debate with the omnipotence and omniscience of Jove. Chained to his im- movable rock, with the deathless vulture preying on his vitals, the criminal, — his strength and sagacity unimpaired by all his sufferings, — rises to a hero in his keen encounter of per- sonal antagonism with the god of whose mere brute force and cunning craft he is the unsubdued and indignant victim. Even Christian poets have given colour to the delusion of a sort of active strife with the Almighty and All-wise, on the part of fallen angels and lost men. But Scripture affords no warrant for the thought. Look at the evil spirits meeting Christ when he was on earth ! See how vainly and impotently they chafe and fret in the pre- sence of their appointed Judge. Terribly do they vent their rage, whether in one final convulsive onset on the poor suf- ferers whom they are ordered to let go, or in such frenzy as that of seizing the herd of swine. But the calm majesty of Jesus himself they could not face. With him, the power of God and the wisdom of God, there is no contending ; no room for effort or device of any kind. Ah ! that cry of theirs, " I know thee who thou art, the Holy One of God." Is it not the cry of utter helpless, prostrate, passive wretched- ness ; of dreary imbecile submission ; the presage of a dark and hopeless unrelieved eternity of woe. And it is this same Jesus, the Holy One of God, that you, 0 impenitent sinner, must have to do with in the day of 310 CHRIST THE POWER AND WISDOM OF GOD. . judgment, and throughout the endless ages ! Most appalling is he in the heat of his fierce anger, when he rides forth red with the blood of enemies, taking swift and summary ven- geance on nations of the ungodly, and treading the winepress of the fury of the Most High ! I explain away none of these tremendous images ; earth seems about to know their meaning and reality too well ! But more appalling, if pos- sible, is Christ the Judge, in the aspect he wears when such scenes of carnage are over ; when, seated on the great white throne and holding in his hand the eternal awards, he ap- pears in the serene, unruffled majesty of the power of God and the wisdom of God ! What shall the sinner do within the arm, beneath the eye, of such j)ower and such wisdom ? Is it a power put forth in impulses 1 Is it a wisdom open to failure of plan or change of purpose 1 If that were the case, there might be times of relaxed effort, of which advan- tage might be taken ; there might be room somehow, and some day in the long lapse of everlasting years, for some shifts or suggestions, or expedients of relief. But, alas ! alas ! for those whose doom is pronounced by him who is no fitful or capri- cious adversary, but himself the very power, the very wisdom of God. It cannot but be a doom, resistless, changeless ; with neither ray of hope, nor even any lightning flash of some last effort of despair, to break the monotonous gloom of its endless, restless night. Ah ! be thankful that he comes to you now, once more at least, ere he comes for such judg- ment as this. Still more be thankful that he comes not to you, as the devils complained that he came to them, to tor- ment you before the time. For, thirdly, it is chiefly in his cross that Jesus is to be considered as the power of God and the wisdom of God. In every view of it, the work of redemption is pre-eminently a work of power and wisdom ; and he Avho would undertake it must be possessed of these perfections in all their fulness. CHKIST THE rOVVEK AND WISDOM OF GOD. 311 But a redeemer or mediator might be imagined, having power and wisdom, not properly of God, but distinct from God's ; power, for instance, to prevail by mere vehement importunity of intercession ; wisdom to discern and seize relenting moments for overcoming the resentment of an offended Deity and procuring for the offender a measure of indulgence. Such in fact, is the vulgar notion of mediation, in all heath- enism, whether pagan or popish, in all fond superstition and every religion of mere terror and alarm. And such, it is to be feared, is the notion, at least in part, which some who should know better, still have of the mediation of Christ. But such notion, by whomsoever entertained, we condemn as unscriptural, and indeed blasphemous. The imputation of it to evangelical theology generally we repudiate with just indignation. Christ indeed, as Mediator, has all power, — power over his own life to lay it down and to take it again, power, as the true Israel, the prince, to prevail with God ; and in him are hid all the treasures of wisdom and know- ledge. But the power he has is identified with that of the Father, and his wisdom with the Father's wisdom. It is, and must be so. For the possible availableness, if I may so speak, of his power and his wisdom for your redemp- tion, depends on his intimate personal oneness with the Father, and the thorough counsel of peace that is between them both. " I and my Father are one." And then consider how this power and this wisdom, being thus of God, became actually available for your redemption. By what sort of power, by what sort of wisdom, can guilty sinners be redeemed 1 The redemption of the soul — how precious is it ! To create a world is, with the Almighty, but the utterance of a word. He spake and it was done ; he said, " Let there be light," and there was light. To fill the world he creates with all various instances and illustra- tions of adaptation and design, in its material elements and 312 CHKIST THE POWER AND WISDOM OF GOD. structures, in its animal tribes, in man, the head and crown of all, is with the All-wise but the unfolding of himself in his manifold works. But no mere word of power, no laeTe fiat of the Almighty, not his simply saying. Let it be, can undo the fact of sin, or alter its nature ; make it either, as it were, no longer a real existence, or no longer exceeding sinful. Guilt cannot thus be cancelled or purged. And even in- finite intelligence, considered simply as such, could but fore- see the inevitable and inexorable necessity of the sentence of retribution, and find no expedient for modifying or evad- ing it. Is there then, even with the Highest, no eye effectually to pity, no arm strong to save 1 Behold the Lamb of God that taketh away the sin of the world ! See that willing servant, that divine sufferer, made under the law, bearing the weight of all your obligations and all your liabilities under the law. See him on the cross, meeting as the substitute of the guilty, the doom of guilt, its very real and actual doom, the sting of sin, the curse, the wrath of God ! Has divine power, has divine wisdom, no means of escape or exemption for him, for him the holy one, for him the beloved of the father, from such a fate as that 1 Is there no relief for him, through any exertion of power or any exercise of wisdom, from the dire necessity of paying the uttermost farthing, enduring the extremest penalty, draining the cup of imputed guiltiness and inflicted judgment to the very dregs 1 None, absolutely none, if he is to be the surety and Saviour of sinners. Power says, I have no arm to break the bonds of law. Wisdom says, I have no device for evading the claims of law. Power may be great, and wisdom greater ; but the holy supremacy of law is above all. It is not possible for the cup to pass ! Himself he cannot save ! Yes ! In the case of this divine victim, thus laid on the bloody altar of atonement, even divine power must fail, and divine wisdom, as it may seem, CHRIST THE POWER AND WISDOM OF GOD. 313 be helpless, No voice from heaven can arrest the sacrifice ; no ram caught in a thicket can release that only begotten Son of the Father ! He is crucified through weakness. He died, one might almost say, as was said of Abner, he died as a fool dieth. As a man falleth before wicked men, so fell he. " But the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men." He, on whose own be- half personally and for whose own deliverance, in that dark and dread crisis, divine power was as weakness, and divine wisdom was as foolishness, becomes through that very weakness and that very foolishness, effectually and savingly the power of God, and the wisdom of God, powerful now to save the lost, wise to win souls. He saveth others ; sinners, me the chief of sinners, he saves. And he saves not by an act of power doing rude violence to the holy sanction of law ; not by such wisdom as might seek, like our worldly and carnal wisdom, to compromise them ; but jDowerfuUy and wisely in accordance with strictest law, most strictly applied, on the very footing of the authority of the law and the lawgiver being anew ratified, confirmed, and sealed. Thus is Jesus able to save his people to the uttermost. With a strong arm now he breaks all their bonds, and leads them forth by the right way, that they may go to a city of habitation. For now, on their behalf, and for the weak- ness and foolishness of the cross he bore for them, he is at fullest liberty, he has the most unquestionable right to expend all the resources of the power and wisdom that are his. In him now no accuser can ever challenge their stand- ing as accepted in the Father's sight ; for he answers every charge. It is God that justifieth. Who is he that condemn- eth 1 It is Christ tliat died, yea rather, that is risen again, and ever liveth at the right hand of God, to make intercession for us. Having power now through his great sacrifice, to 314 CHRIST THE POWER AND WISDOM OF GOD. purge away all your guilt and pardon all your sins, — power to give the Holy Ghost for the perpetual washing of your souls in that pure fountain of blood and water, will he not, by the same power, keep you through faith unto salvation 1 Having wisdom, even the knowledge and revelation of God, wisdom to open to you Lis OAvn heart and the heart of his Father, and by the Spirit of wisdom to draw your hearts to himself and to his Father, will he not wisely guide your feet in the way of peace 1 will he not give you the wisdom that is profitable to direct ; making you wise unto that which is good, wise even unto salvation ? Thus Christ crucified is to be seen and owned as the power of God and the wisdom of God. II. Is he really so to you 1 That now is the question, to which the answer is found in ver. 30 : " Of him are ye in Christ Jesus, who of God is made unto us wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption." There is here a double work of God ; making you Christ's, and mak- ing Christ yours ; causing you to be in Christ Jesus, as he is, the power of God and the wisdom of God, and causing him to be to you that very wisdom and that very power which he is himself. The work is a divine work, in which the Holy Ghost is the agent ; the Holy Ghost shutting you up into Christ, and taking of what is Christ's and showing it to you. Blessed indeed is the correspondence of these two divine operations to one another. To be by a divine work, your- selves in Christ Jesus ; and by a divine work also, to have Christ Jesus made all things to you ! Yes, I say all things ! For what is there that is not embraced in this complete and comprehensive enumeration 1 Let us briefly note the particulars of this experimental Christianity ; Christ made of God unto us wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctifi- cation, and redemption. CHRIST THE POWEll AND "WISDOM OF GOD. 315 1. He is made of God uuto you wisdom. He is made of God to you in your experience, tliat very wisdom of God which he himself is. For all your wisdom is still only Christ. Christ known ; Christ believed ; Christ applied to you by the Holy Spirit, and appropriated on the warrant of the free call and command of the gospel ; Christ, in short, grasped as yours, nay rather, grasping you as his. Thus you become wise, wiser than the ancients, wiser than your teachers, when Christ alone is all your wisdom. Ah ! what wisdom, holy, heavenly, divine, does a simple acquaintance with Christ and him crucified impart to very babes ! What intelligence and what clear insight on things hidden from the wise and prudent ! What an understanding of God has such a one, of his character, his ways, his truth and love ; and what an understanding of all things as seen in the light of God, his law, his will, his promises. " No man knoweth the Father but the Son, and he to whomsoever the Son shall reveal him." What manner of knowledge is this 1 How does the Son himself know the Father 1 For he to whom the Son reveals the Father must know the Father even as the Son knows him. Therefore you to whom Christ is made wisdom, even the wisdom of God, are near to God as Christ is near. You see God even as Christ sees him. You have an insight into his very heart, and iuto all its yearnings of compassion, pity, tenderness, and love. And your knowledge of him is, like Christ's, a knowledge of holy sympathy, of blessed complacency, of willing submission even to what in his dealings generally may seem most mysterious, and what in his dealings with you particularly may seem sorest, and hardest, and darkest. You know him so as to say, " Though he slay me, I will trust in him." You know him so as to say, " The cup which my Father giveth me, shall I not drink it ? " You know him so as to justify his utmost severity in visiting sin, and to 'M6 CHRIST THE POWER AND WISDOM OF GOD. magnify the riches of his forbearance and lovingkindness in receiving sinners such as you are so graciously, loving them so freely, blessing them so abundantly. 2. 'Not is this wisdom barren and theoretical merely, abstract speculation, and nothing more : it is intensely prac- tical. For it is allied to power. He who is of God made to you wisdom, is also made of God to you power ; power effectual (1) for your justification through his righteousness ; (2) for your sanctification by his indwelling Spirit ; and (3) for your redemption, under his government, from all the effects of sin, the ills of life, the power of Satan, the sting of death, the victory of the grave. Consider these three particulars in respect of which Christ is made of God to you power as well as wisdom. (1) He is made of God to you righteousness. He who knew no sin is made sin for you, that you may be made the righteousness of God in him. You are in yourselves sin, altogether sin, and sin only. Sin is, as it were, your very being ; your essential nature, as fallen and corrupt. Guilti- ness, helpless, hell-deserving guiltiness, is the sum and substance of your spiritual state, of your life, which is simply death. But in Christ you are made — he is made of God to you — righteousness, the righteousness of God. Wliat an instance of power, of omnipotence ! One moment you are a criminal, a guilt-laden, hell-doomed criminal. The next you are an acquitted, justified, righteous, and loyal subject of heaven's kingdom ! Surely there is power in this marvellous transformation ! not the power of mere might or magic, but power allied to wisdom ; power working in the line of a wise harmonising of the holy claims of the righteous God and the helpless need of sinful man. Still there is divine power here, even the working of the mighty power which God wrought in Christ when he raised him from the dead. He quickens you together with Christ when CHRIST THE POWER AND WISDOM OF GOD. 3l7 he justifies you. He raises you from death to ne^vness of life. (2) To you who are of God in Christ Jesus he is made of God sanctification. Personal holiness of character, as well as righteousness for your right judicial standing before God, you find in Christ, in Christ himself, in Christ himself alone, not merely in his doctrines and the influence they are fitted to exert ; not in his pure precepts and the sanctions by which they are enforced ; not in his example and the sweet constraint by which it should draw you to follow his steps ; not in any 'or in all of these together, though all are instrumental, helpful, indispensable ; yet not in them have you this holiness, but in him, in himself, his living self, him- self alone. He is made of God unto you sanctification. Oh ! what power, what virtue is there in that Holy One to turn the foulest thing he touches into purity and pure peace ! Be sure, be very sure, 0 thou whom indwelling sin is vexing ; thou for whom inveterate, inborn corruption is too strong ; thou who hast got some sense of the beauty of holiness, some taste and relish for the blessedness of holy love ; thou who wouldst fain be rid of those carnal, worldly thoughts and lusts that trouble thee ; thou who longest in real and right earnest to have the very same aff'ections in thy bosom towards all things that are in the bosom of thy God ; be sure that it is Christ himself who is thy holiness as well as thy peace ; for he is made of God unto thee, not righteous- ness only, but sanctification also. Deal with him, directly and personally with himself, for the one grace as well as for the other. Abide in him, and let him and his word abide in you. Take his death as your own ; his life also, his risen life, as your own. Die daily in and with him. Be daily renewed after the image of his life. For you are dead, and your life is hid with Christ in God. Mortify therefore your members which are on the earth. You are dead. Let them 318 CHRIST THE POWEE AND WISDOM OF GOD. be dead too. And let Christ, living in you, and shedding ahroad in your hearts a sweet sense of the love of God, through the Holy Ghost being given to you ; let Christ — made over to you as yours in the gospel ; appropriated as yours by faith ; lived upon, fed upon, tasted and enjoyed, in a grovring experience of living fellowship and living trust — be more and more apprehended as being himself, in his death and in his life, the princij)le, the spring, the motive, the end and aim, of all your thoughts and all your activities. Thus he will be made of God to you, more and more powerfully, sanctification as well as righteousness, as you grow in his grace and in his knowledge. (3) Christ, as the power of God, is made to you redemp- tion. Whatever of divine power is not included in your justification through his righteousness, and your sanctification by his Spirit is fully covered by this most comprehensive word, as it is here used, redemption. If the first two exhaust the whole of his justifying work for you and his sanctifying work in you, this last takes in all his work of rule and government over you ; his entire administration of all things on your behalf and for your sake. As he is made unto you righteousness, jow. are just before God. As he is made unto you sanctification, you become holy, as God is holy. And now, as he is made unto you redemption, you, thus justified and sanctified, have all saving benefits secured to you. For Avhat does not redemption, in its widest sense, em- brace 1 Is it not a purchased deliverance from all the evils of sin, and a purchased title to all the glory of the heavenly inheritance ] From the wrath to come, from death and him that hath the power of death, redemption fully saves you. It ensures your victory over all your enemies, even the last enemy, which is death. It takes the sting from death, and from all the grief which death occasions ; for that sting is sin, and sin has no more power to bring you, or any loved CHKIST THE POWER AND WISDOM OF GOD. 319 brother in the Lord, under condemnation again. It makes you more than conquerors thi'ough him who loved you and gave himself for you. Then, positively as well as negatively, what does redemp- tion contain 1 Eather, what does it not ? AVith a purchased deliverance from all the sad fruits of the fall, is there not joined a purchased right to more than all the blessedness and joy of paradise 1 All things are yours when you are of God in Christ Jesus, and he is made of God to you redemption. Peace with God is yours ; assurance of God's love is yours ; the earnest of the Spirit is yours ; adoption into the family of heaven is yours ; brotherhood with the first-begotten is yours ; to cry Abba Father as he did is yours ; the chasten- ings of God are yours ; the fulness of earth is yours ; the march of providence is yours. And yours, in fine, is the crown, yours the palm, yours the triumph in that day when to him that overcometh he gives to sit with him in his throne, even as he also overcame, and is set down with the Father in his throne. Observe, in conclusion, the connection of the two topics. What Christ is of God, that he is to you who are of God in him. He is of God power and wisdom ; he is to you wisdom and power. In Christ these divine attributes become yours ; yours to be available on your behalf ; yours to be appropriated and used as yours for all saving purposes. Does this seem too high for you 1 !N"ay, consider how Christ himself, is the power of God and the wisdom of God. Is it not in the humiliation of his cross ? Be you one with him in that, crucified with him, accepting in his death your own death. Tlien are you one with him in all the power and prestige of liis risen life. The connecting link between what Christ is of God, or as God's, and what he is to you, or as yours, is his being 320 CHFJST THE POWEE AND WISDOM OF GOD. wisdom. Observe, in this view, the alternation or change of order. On the part of God there is power put forth in Christ for your salvation ; not power operating violently and lawlessly, but power seeking its end wisely, in the way of a wise adaptation to the essential perfections of the divine nature and the unchangeable principles of the divine govern- ment. On your part there is a wise spiritual discernment of this wise procedure of God, an intelligent sympathy with it, a cordial acquiescence in it, a willing consent to it. And thus there is found in it all power to save your souls ; power to justify, and sanctify, and redeem. In the highest sense, therefore, knowledge to you is power. The wisdom of God, which Christ is, working in you wisdom toward God, becomes in you and to you saving strength. How complete is Christ for you, and how complete are you in him ! The sovereign prerogatives of God are power and wisdom. And these now, in their very highest exercise, are identified with Christ, and with Christ crucified. The weakness of his cross is the power of God. The foolishness of the cross is the wisdom of God. This all holy beings confess. And in this you who are of God in Christ rejoice. For all is for your sakes, that in a way of consummate wisdom, and by a work of power beyond all measurement, you may be righteously and lawfully, and therefore thoroughly, saved. How glorifying to God is aU this arrangement ! It is of God that Christ Jesus, as mediator and redeemer, is consti- tuted and recognised by the Father as the power of God and the wisdom of God. It is of God that you are, by the effect- ual working of the Spirit, in Christ. It is of God that Christ is made to you wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption. All is of God. Let no flesh glory in his presence. " He that glorieth, let him glory in the Lord." " For thus saith the Lord, Let not the wise man glory in his CHRIST THE POWER AND WISDOM OF GOD. 321 wisdom, neither let the mighty man glory in his might, let not the rich man glor}' in his riches : But let him that glorieth glory in this, that he understandeth and knoweth me, that I am the Lord which exercise lovingkindness, judg- ment, and righteousness, in the earth : for in these things I delight, saith the Lord." How vain is the notion of any other mediation than that of him who is at once the power and the wisdom of God, or any other salvation than what these sovereign prerogatives of the Godhead combine to secure. If there were any power in the universe that could overmaster the wisdom of God, any wisdom that could evade or elude the jDower of God, sinners out of Christ might have hope. If there were an arm of might that could defy the All-wise, or if there were a cunning craft that might undermine the resources of the Almighty, then, by power violently overmastering wisdom, or by wisdom evading power, you might think that somehow you had a chance of safety at the last. But, sinners in the hands of an angry God, and that God resistless in power and unerring in wisdom, how can you escape if you neglect the great salvation 1 Escape now by consenting to be of God in him who is made of God unto you wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption ; who is to you all in all ; who is all your salvation and all your desire. " 'Novi to him that is of power to stablish you according to my gospel, and the preaching of Jesus Christ : to God only wise, be glory through Jesus Christ for ever." " Unto him that is able to keep you from falling, and to present you faultless before the presence of his glory Avith exceeding joy, to the only wise God our Saviour, be glory and majesty, dominion and power, both now and ever. Amen." 322 god's temple tried. XX. GOD'S TEMPLE TRIED. " For we are labourers together with God : ye are God's husbandry, ye are God's building. According to the grace of God which is given unto me, as a wise masterbuilder, I have laid the foundation, and another buildeth thereon. But let every man take heed how he buildeth thereupon. For other foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus Christ. Now if any man build upon this foundation gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, stubble ; Every man's work shall be made manifest : for the day shall declare it, because it shall be revealed by fire ; and the fire shall try every man's work of what sort it is. If any man's work abide which he hath built thereupon, he shall receive a re- ward. If any man's work shall be burned, he shall suffer loss : but he himself shall be saved ; yet so as by fire. Know ye not that ye are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you ? If any man defile the temple of God, him shall God de- stroy ; for the temple of God is holy, which temple ye are. " — 1 Cor. iii. 9-17. Under tlie figure of a building we find sometimes individual believers, and at otber times the church collective repre- sented in holy Scripture. In this passage, it is to behevers individually that in the first instance, at least, and chiefly, the image applies. The apostle is discriminating between the parts which human instrumentality and divine agency respectively have in the origin and growth of personal re- ligion. You owe your Christianity he says to the Corinthians, not to us, the apostles or ministers of the Lord, but to the Lord himself. We may be employed as labourers together god's temple tried. 323 with. God, in. looking after some departments of the work, but as to the real essence of the work, he is alone. I may plant and ApoUos water ; but ye are not our husbandry, but God's. So I and Apollos may handle or watch the handling of some of the tools ; but ye are not our building, but God's. And, at all events, whatever may have been our respective charges in laying the foundation, ye are now passed from that part of the work. The question is not now as to the foundation, but as to the superstructure. That is what is urgent now ; not the laying of the foundation, in what manner and under whose oversight ; that can make no differ- ence ; essentially the foundation is the same in all ; for other foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus Christ (ver. 11) ; but what is urgent now is the rearing of the superstructure, the getting on with the upper building, com- pleting the erection and fitting it for an habitation of God through the Spirit. If you were as anxious and as busy about that as you ought to be, your quarrel about the comparative merits of the overseers employed in laying the foundation would soon cease. Drawing out and expanding this thought, I regard the apostle as directing attention — First, to the materials in detail of which the fabric or superstructure of personal Christianity may be composed ; " Now if any man build ujion this foundation gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, stubble ; every man's work shall be made manifest : for the day shall declare it, because it shall be revealed by fire ; and the fire shall try every man's work of what sort it is. If any man's work abide which he hath built thereupon, he shall receive a reward. If any man's work shall be burned, he shall suffer loss : but he himself shall be saved ; yet so as by fire " (vers. 12-15) ; and, Secondly, to the sacredness impressed on it as a whole : 324 god's temple tried. " Know ye not that ye are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you 1 If any man defile the temple of God, him shall God destroy ; for the temple of God is holy, which temple ye are" (vers. 16, 17). Viewing the believer set to the task of building up with God's help his own character, I call on him to bear in mind these two considerations : — I. "What he builds is for eternity ; let him see that the stuff he builds with is lasting enough. II. It is for a temple of God ; let him see that what he builds is holy enough. I. What you are building is for eternity : how deeply therefore does it concern you to see to it that your materials are lasting and enduring enough. Kow the two chief tests of the durability of the materials of any fabric, are time (the day shall declare it) and fire (the fire shall try it) ; the slow consuming tooth of time ; the swift-licking tongue of fire. Time alone may be a sufticient test, sure, if slow ; time that lays his unerring and impartial hand alike on the brilliant icy palace of the Northern Czar, melting under a single morning's sun, and the solid pyramids of Egypt outlasting empires. And if all-eating time has for an ally the furious force of fire ; if successive conflagrations in successive days or years are doomed to befall the structure ; and if especially there is one day fixed in the lapse of years when the confla- gration is to be complete and final ; what an ordeal have we for the materials of any work to pass through ! What a proof of abiding strength and value if they survive and stand. Such is the double test awaiting you, who are building on the foundation that is laid, which is Christ Jesus. There is no reference here to the sufiiciency of the foundation on which you are building. That, doubtless, is to be tried. But it is the trial of the durability of what you are building on that god's temple teied. 325 foundation that is now spoken of. Both trials are severe. It is a fierce storm that the Lord describes as the occasion of the one trial. The other trial, according to the apostle, is to be by time and fire ; by days or by a day of revelation by fire. 1. There are partial, and as itwere, preliminary and premon- itory, trials, by time and fire, even in this life, that serve to make manifest how you are building ; there are occasions on which the day declares it, and the fire tries every man's work of what sort it is. These are days of judgment in this present world, such as this apostle elsewhere in this Epistle speaks of, when he reproves the Corinthians for their unworthy practices and unworthy frames of mind in connection with the observance of the Lord's supper (1 Cor. xi. 31, 32). In that instance the apostle does not call in question the personal Christianity of those whose sin he is reproving : nay, the very point of his reproof lies in his acknowledging that. He gives them full credit for being really in Christ. They were built on the only true foundation ; and they were God's own building on that foundation. But in this matter of their disorderly ob- servance of the Lord's supper, what they were building was of a texture corrupt and perishable. And it was proved to be so by a day of fiery trial. Visitations of weakness, sick- ness, and mortality came upon them ; and in their endurance of chastisement for their sin, they suffered loss ; but they themselves were saved, yet so as by fire. Such fiery trial is surely sent in mercy ; but is it Avise, is it safe, is it right, to challenge or provoke it 1, to make it necessary so to speak, for God to send it, that you, chastened of the Lord now, may not be condemned with the world 1 1 speak here to apply the figure generally of the character you are cultivating, the tastes you are acquiring, the habits you are forming, the affections you are indulging ; or of the way in which you are accustoming yourselves to spend your Sabbaths, to improve your privileges, to use the means and 326 god's temple tried. ordinances of God's grace ; or of the occupations in which you are engaged, the round and routine of duties with which you fill up the day ; your devotions, j^our charities, your home walk of household cares and familiar kindnesses ; your pro- fessional intercourse with men, your alms, and liberties, and assiduities of personal attention to the sick or the sorrowful, the fatherless and the widow, the poor and the lost ; your amusements, your recreations, your pleasures, your reading, your company, your conversation, your trains of thought, your modes of speech, your leading lines of conduct ; for these all go to make up the materials with which you are building. Of what sort are they 1 will they endure 1 will they stand the test of a day of fire 1 will your Christianity, composed as it is of all these elements — for they all enter into it, — pass unscathed through a fiery trial of distress, or disease, or soli- tary woe, or of persecution and reproach for the name of Christ, or of the fierce darts of Satan's temptations, or of the hot arrows of the Almighty entering into your wounded spirit, when, in a day of spiritual decline, he seems to hide his face from you, and to give you over to your own bitter musings 1 Eemember how complex this building of your personal rehgion, your spiritual character, is. Everything you think and say and do, all your works and ways, in all paths and relations of life, all enter into it. Are they all such, do you make conscience of their being all such, do you study, and try, and pray to have them all such, as a day of fire may prove and not destroy 1 Is there none of them such as will weaken you when sinners entice you, or disconcert you when the world mocks you, or vex you on a sick-bed, or sting you in the approach of death 1 Your vain imaginations, your idle words, your unprofitable days, your dissipated nights, your weary Sabbaths, your heartless prayers, your formal sacra- ments ; your sallies of uncontrolled temper, your outbreaks of heedless selfishness ; your rivalries and jealousies, and sus- god's TEMrLE TRIED, 327 picioDS and dislikes, your strifes and divisions ; your wander- ings of mind, your frailty of resolution, your reserve in testifying for Christ, your occasional conformity to the world, what are they but wood, hay, stubble 1 What are they fit for but to be burned ? And will the burning of them bring no pain, no loss to you 1 Eemember that this building with such materials is not separate and detached from you : you are yourselves the building : these materials are part and parcel of yourselves : the burning of them, if they are to be burnt out of you by trial here, is the burning of your own flesh and spirit. Yes, it may cost you many a tear, sleepless nights and anxious days, afiliction of body and anguish of soul, ere these worthless and rotten stuffs are consumed. Errors, heresies, false opinions in religious faith, infirmities, shortcomings, tolerated failings in religious practice, may all be brought to trial in a day of evil ; and as their natural fruit or salutary antidote, you may have to eat your spiritual meat with bitter herbs, and to bless God if you are saved at all, even though it should be as by fire. Oh ! that believers would lay this to heart, especially when they are tempted to acquiesce in their spiritual defi- ciences, and to stop short even of aiming at perfection. There may be things in you and about you now, which, when all is well, give you no uneasiness, that may appear to you in a very different light, and strike your conscience with a very different force when days of darkness come ; when time is passing from your view, and eternity opening before your eye. And, alas ! how sadly may you then have to mourn in vain over the scantiness of those spiritual graces you are now neglecting to cherish, and the feebleness of those spiritual tastes and habits which now you do not make it your busi- ness to cultivate and mature. But for your encouragement, remember that the same day of fiery trial which consumes the wood, hay, stubble, 328 god's temple tried. only proves and purifies the gold, the silver, the precious stones. And these, what are they "? What but the fruit of the Spirit, — " love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, good- ness, faith, meekness, temperance ; " what but the features of the new man ye are to put on, " as the elect of God, holy and beloved, — bowels of mercies, kindness, humbleness of mind, meekness, long-suffering ; forbearing one another and forgiving one another, if any man have a quarrel against any: even as Christ forgave you, so also do ye," etc. ; what but the qualities we are to give all diligence in adding to one another, — faith, fortitude, knowledge, temperance, patience, godliness, brotherly kindness, charity 1 For, it is added, " if ye do these things, ye shall never be moved." Ah ! there are materials in the composition of the Christian character which affliction only serves to perfect ; elements of holy trust in God and resignation to his will, that are only called into livelier exer- cise when trouble comes. " For a season, if need be, ye are in heaviness through manifold tribulation ; " but be of good cheer. It is thus that the building is tested. And be very sure that its being thus tested is for its good ; for good to itself : " The trial of your faith is much more precious than of gold that perisheth, though it be tried with fire ; and shall be found unto praise and honour and glory at the appear- ing of Jesus Christ." Lo ! into that burning fiery furnace three witnesses for God are cast. It is to them the day of fire. But their noble protest against idolatry ; their dauntless refusal to worship the golden image ; — that, at any rate, is neither wood, nor hay, nor stubble. It was a fire that tried these men's works, for the flame of it slew the men that cast the confessors in. But they had no hurt ; not a hair of their heads was touched ; not a seam of their garments singed ; they walked in the midst of the fire, and one like the Son of God with them. The fire tried their work, of what sort it was. god's temple tried, 329 2. But not always, or not alone in this life, is this day of discovery by fire. The materials with which you are now building your Christian character have to stand the test, not only of time and its trials, but of eternity also, and of that judgment which meets you on the threshold of eternity. That day when God shall judge the secrets of men by Jesus Christ ; the day when the Lord shall bring to light the hidden things of darkness, and make manifest the counsels of the hearts ; when the books shall be opened ; that dread and awful day will be a day declaring every man's work ; because it shall be revealed by fire. And what fire 1 l^ot the mate- rial elemental fire. Not the fire of mere penal infliction. That cannot touch the seat either of holiness or of sin. No, but the fire of discovery, the discovery of a man to himself before the holy God. For, observe, the stress or emphasis of the intimation here given lies in this awful thought. Three times over, in this one verse, is the idea repeated : — " made manifest," " declare," " reveal." The trial is by fire, be- cause it is the trial of that day when all is made manifest, — declared, — revealed. And this " all," what is it ? It is all that is connected with your Christian character and Christian conduct. I say nothing here of what you are and what you did in your unconverted state. It is with what you are, as believers, and what you are doing, as believers, and with that alone, that I have to do. To you, as believers, it is that I now speak of the day of judgment. You stand before the judg- ment-seat of Christ. As believers. Granted. Justified long before by faith. Granted. With no condemnation ; sure of happiness and heaven ; your souls having already been with Christ in blessedness and glory, while your bodies were mouldering in their graves ; now, with your risen and glori- fied bodies, made like unto his own glorious body, you appear before him with joy and not with grief. Granted all. But 330 god's temple teied. it is a day of judgment still, even to you ; of open judgment. All is opened up ; the whole history of your life of faith ; what it was ; and at the very instant when there flashes full upon your mind the vivid apprehension of wliat it should, of Avhat it might, have been ; all is opened up ; every feature in your habit of faith ; every incident in your walk of faith ; and precisely when, having been made perfect in holiness, your recoil from all evil is most intense. I ask, Is that an ordeal which any serious man, with all his confidence in the full and free salvation of the gospel, can anticipate without most solemn awe 1 And through this ordeal every one of you must pass. You and your work ; the work you are making of your personal Christianity ; your progressive sanctifi cation ; your serving the Lord ; your growth in grace, and preparation for glory. Ah ! there is a work which a man may by the Spirit build on that one only foundation that is laid, which is Christ Jesus ; a work which will abide, and for which he shall receive a reward ; the work of faith, and labour of love, and patience of hope. Faith, love, hope ; the precious gold, the pure silver, the bright gem ; let the building be constructed of these. They can stand the clearest light, the hottest fire of searching discovery and open revelation. They are of heaven ; and into heaven they will pass to abide with you for ever. But is anything of earth allowed to mingle with what you are building for heaven 1 Does any secret leaven of the carnal mind vitiate and mar your pure peace with God, and hinder your going on to perfection 1 Ah ! how many of the schemes, how many of the steps, even of godly men, themselves built on the foundation that is laid, which is Christ Jesus, may be found, in that day of fire, unable to stand the searching disclosure of them before the unerring Judge ! And these not always schemes and steps in the direction of what the world would call sin ; but plans, often, god's temple teied. 331 of well-intended self-discipline, and honest devotion, and real benevolence, after a sort, too ; proceedings forming part, and what they deemed no unimportant part, of the very service they were doing to God ; efforts of zeal without knowledge ; struggles of partisanship for points of precedence, or points of form, in which at bottom carnal prejudice had more place than heavenly faith ; labours in whicli they wearied them- selves for very vanity. Alas ! how in that day will all such, and many other the like kinds of building, be discovered to have been fruitless, useless ; unprofitable as to any issue of them you can carry with you into the eternal state ; fit only to be once for all disclosed, and destroyed in the fire of that day's tremendous revelations. Ah ! my friends, what are you about in your Christian calling 1 What is the Christian experience you are accumulating 1 How much of it, bow much of it all, I ask, will bear to be confronted with the Judge the revealer of all hearts, in that day 1 How much of it may pass under his eye, into the eternity that you are to spend with him 1 It is no work of man ; of man's passion, or prejudice, or partisanship ; it is no work about man, boasting of Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas ; not the wrath of man which worketh not the righteousness of God ; not the wisdom of man, which is foolishness with God ; not any such sort of building will outlast the scorching and withering disclosures of that open day of judgment. No ; nothing will or can survive that but what may lay claim, out and out, to the character of a work of God ; the real, single-eyed, and simple-minded working out of your own salvation with fear and trembling, because it is God who worketh in you both to will and to do ; and the real, single-eyed, and simple-minded working of the work of God while it is day, before the night cometh in which no man can work. 332 god's temple tried. II. That the structure you are building on the foundation that is laid, which is Christ Jesus, should be such as will stand the test of time, the ordeal of a day of fire, is a plain inference from the fact that such an ordeal awaits us. But there is a second reason for peculiar care as to how and what you build. It is a reason derived, not from the prospective trial, but from the present use, of the erection. It is a sacred edifice ; it is the temple of God ; he has founded and built it ; he has taken possession of it ; acknowledging, appropriating, in- habiting it as his own ; and he whose temple it is thus declared to be is a jealous God; any injury done to his temple he will resent and repay, for he has sanctified it to himself, consecrated it by the sprinkling of blood, cleansed it from filthiness and idols, and called it by his name, which is holy : " Know ye not that ye are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you 1 If any man defile the temple of God, him shall God destroy ; for the temple of God is holy, which temple ye are" (vers. 16, 17). The motive here suggested proceeds plainly on the prin- ciple that Christians ought to recognise their own Chris- tianity, to the extent at least of feeling the full force of what it implies in the way of dutj^, and aim, and responsibility. For the question is not about the confidence or comfort of a full personal assurance of salvation, but about the obligation of a holy and perfect walk. And in this view, it is with somewhat of surprise, at least, if not of indignation, that the apostle summons you, as a believer, to an explicit recognition of your high and holy calling. " What ! know ye not that ye are the temples of God 1 " Is not this your profession 1 Is not this your cha- racter and position 1 Is not this the standing you have to maintain before God 1 Is not this, therefore, the standard of the attainment you ought to be making 1 Nay, more, as he goes on to add ; it is not merely a profession, a name with god's temple tkied. 333 you. It should not be so. It need not be so : " Know ye not that ye are the temple of God, and that the Sj)irit of God dweUeth in you 1 " It is your privilege to know this. The Holy Ghost is given to shed abroad in your hearts the love of God, to seal your acceptance, and pardon, and peace ; to be in you no more the spirit of bondage again to fear, but the Spirit of adoption, crying Abba, Father ; to witness Avith your spirits that you are the children of God. It is your duty as well as your privilege to know it ; for the measure of your obligation now is that indwelling of the Holy Ghost in you. liemember, that in the great day of the trial of fire, it is as a building of God ; it is as a building for God that you are to be tested ; it is as believers, founded on the rock, which is Christ ; it is as believers, having the Holy Ghost dwelling in you, that you are to have yourself and your works, your character, your conduct, your aims, attamments, and performances, judged in that day. Is it indeed true, 0 my friends, that ye are built upon the only foundation that is laid, which is Christ Jesus 1 Is it a great fact ; is it a blessed reality ; that even now, already, unfinished as the structure is that you are building on that foundation, it is inhabited by God himself; that you your- selves are become the temples of God ; that the Holy Spirit of God dwelleth in you 1 Then consider how jealous this God is of whatever touches the honour of his name, and tar- nishes the enduring lustre of the glory of his house. Who is it that is to be judge in that day 1 "Who is it whose judg- ment is to bo as a trial of fire 1 Is it not he, who in the days of his flesh cried, " The zeal of thine house hath eaten me up 1" Is it not he who " overthrew the tables of the money- changers, and the seats of them that sold doves ?" Is it not he whose holy joresence dispersed the crowd of profane traffickers that were destroying the sanctity of the temple's outer court, and whose voice, still and small, fell as thunder 334 god's temple tried. on their ears, " Make not my Father's house an house of mer- chandise, — the house of prayer a den of thieves ! " That temple was to be destroyed, in a few short years, for ever. But, in the great day, the temj)le submitted to his scrutiny, subjected to his judgment and trial of fire, is no earthly house, soon to be dissolved ; but a building of God. Ye are God's building. And not the suburbs, as it were, and pre- cincts, and Gentile court only, are to be tried ; but the in- most sanctuary, the holiest of all, the recess Avithin the veil, where dwelleth the very Shechinah glory, where is the pre- sence and power of the Holy Spirit. Who, or what, is marring that holy shrine 1 Who, or what, is tampering with the purity or perfection of that in- most dwelling-place Jehov? jl chooses for himself here below 1 Who, or what, around, above, within, is corrupting with any touch of earth's pollution or earth's vanity ; that real heaven upon earth, the holy heart of a believer in Jesus 1 Whoso- ever, whatsoever it be, is doomed to destruction : " If any man defile the temple of God, him shall God destroy ; for the temple of God is holy, which temple ye are" (ver. 17). • To apply the subject, I address myself first, to you that believe in Jesus. How solemn, even to you, is the thought of a judgment to come ! You must all stand before the judgment-seat of Christ. " Let us have grace whereby we may serve God acceptably, with reverence and godly fear : for our God is a consuming fire." The fire shall try every man's work. The judgment is by fire ; by a searching fire of discovery and declaration. Whatever shrinks from that is doomed and destroyed. Consider once more the principles of that fiery ordeal of detection and disclosure. There is a building to be tested according to the time it god's temple tried. 335 is intended to last and the purpose it is intended to serve. The time is eternity ; the purpose is the glory of the eternal God. The building is to last for ever, and to last for ever as the temple of God, in which the Spirit of God dwells : you are that building as a believer in Jesus. Judge yourself now as such, if you would not be judged hereafter. Try by the test here furnished, whatever has any influence in moulding or modifying your moral nature ; your spiritual frame ; the books and men and things with which you are conversant ; the pursuits and pleasures that fill up your time ; the mus- ings and memories that fill up your thoughts. Are they marring the building as a building for eternity, and a building for the indwelling of God in it as his temple. Make no compromise here ; give no quarter to any intruder. Let the Lord again come to his own house, and cleanse it thoroughly by his scourge of small cords. And observe the difference that there may be between your case and that of the temple of old. There, the vain traffic and dishonest arts of trade polluted only the outer court, and did not reach the inner shrine. It may be other- wise with you. What defiles or destroys may not affect the outer court at all ; the external decency and decorum of your life may be scarcely touched. But worse, far worse. It may be the truth and tenderness of the inmost sanctuary of the heart that is in peril. The element of evil may be working, not in the outer but in the inner man ; defiling the con- science, debauching the will, deadening the heart. It may be in that most sacred recess, for back in the depth of your moral nature, where the Spirit of God comes into secret and silent personal contact with the spirit of man — it may be there that the mischief is going on, while outwardly all is as fair and seemly as ever. Eeware, friends, of whatever may turn the living temple into a whited sepulchre. Shrink not, 0 my brother, 0 my God, let not me shrink, from a full and faithful 336 god's temple tried. searcliiug of my ways ; no, not though it should force me to raise again the question, Am I, after all, built by God the Holy Ghost on God the Son, the rock of my salvation 1 Am I really in Christ ? Have I believed, do I believe, in him 1 Am I in very truth in him ? Yes ! let me not shrink from such an issue of my seK-examination. Let me, if indeed I have almost unconsciously been falling from my first love, repent and do the first works. Wilt not thou receive me, 0 Lord. Quicken me that I may call upon thy name. And not for yourselves alone, but for others, lay this warning to heart. Let me ever remember that I am to re- gard my brother, not less than myself as God's building. He, as well as I, is tlie temple of God. In his case as in mine, the building is for eternity ; and it is for the indwelling in it as in a temple of the Spirit of God. Yes ! I am to look on every man in that light ; for he is or may be all that my looking on him in that light implies. Let me beware how I treat him ! It is a fearful thing to offend one of Christ's little ones ! And yet, alas ! by my vain conversation, I may be marring the temple of God in some hopeful inquirer or anxious soul ; or in some doubtful professor Avhom my ex- ample may be encouraging in his unconcern ; or in some weak saint whom my countenance may be encouraging in what to him is a doubtful way. Let me beware of whatever may tend in that line. And as the best safeguard against it, let me be busy in the ojoi^osite line ; dealing with everj^ one as with a child of God, whom he may be pleased to own as a temple in which he may dwell for ever. To careless sinners I have a word to say. I have been speaking to the Lord's own people about a judgment to come as being terrible even for them, who see on the judgment seat their Saviour and Lord. What must it be to you 1 " Knowing the terror of the Lord, we persuade men." Knowing our- selves the terror of the Lord,' for we must stand before the god's temple tried. 337 judgment-seat of Christ, and there is terror enough in that for us, we persuade you. Ah ! it is in no spirit of self-complacency, or of exultation over you, that we look on you Avho are building for self and time only ; and not for God and eternity. No ! we have nothing to boast of ! We know who has made us to differ ; and we know him as willing to make you not only what we are, but what he is ! We would have you to know him thus. For you, as well as we, must stand before the dread tribunal ! The great white throne ; the opened books ; the day of discovery ; the revelation of the secrets of all hearts — that is what awaits us both. We tell you that it is and must be a formidable ordeal and trial to us, " washed, and sanctified, and justified, in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, and by the Spirit of our God." AVhat must it be to you, unclean, unclothed, unsaved 1 We speak to you solemnly, as if we were already together at the judgment- seat. But we speak to you as being now together beside the cross. Thanks be to God that it is so. We are at the cross. Look there, 0 sinner, whoever thou art ! See the Lamb of God taking away the sin of the world. See the pierced side ; the fl.owing stream ! Hear the gracious words, " To-day shalt thou be with me in paradise." But hark ! Has not another voice issued from the dry parched lips ? Slowly he toils up the hill of woe ; bearing the cross on which he bears your sin. Many hearts melt : many eyes weep. Hark ! what says he 1 " Daughters of Jerusalem weep not for me, but weep for yourselves and for your children ! " Weep ! Well you may. "For if they do these things in the green tree, what shall be done in the dry ] " " How shall ye escape if ye neglect so great salvation 1 " 338 UNLEAVENED BREAD. XXI. UNLEAVENED BEEAD. ' ' Your glorying is not good. Know ye not that a little leaven leaven- etli tlie whole lump ? Purge out therefore the old leaven, that ye may be a new lump, as ye are unleavened. For even Christ our passover is sacrificed for us : Therefore let us keep the feast, not with old leaven, neither with the leaven of malice and wickedness ; but with the unleavened bread of sincerity and truth." — 1 Cor. v. 6-8. The command, that the bread used at the paschal feast should be without leaven, was very peremptory and very penetrating. It was enjoined generally, in strong terms, as an indispensable condition of the solemnity : " Whosoever eateth leavened bread, that soul shall be cut off from Israel " (Exod. xii. 15). And it is enjoined with minute penetrating particularity : " There shall no leavened bread be seen with thee j neither shall there be leaven seen with thee in all thy quarters" (Exod. xiii. 7). The same prohibition of leaven, equally stern and equally searching, is here connected with the New Testament paschal feast ; whether that is viewed in its wide aspect, as descrip- tive of the entire Christian life ; or in its narrower sense, as having reference to the sacrament of the supper, the sign and seal of that life. In the light of this application of the command, in all its emphatic force and thorough-going reach, to the Christian life generally, and to the sacrament which represents it in parti- cular, I propose, — UNLEAVENED BREAD. 339 I. To consider the reasons for the peremptory prohibition of leaven as applicable to the Old Testament paschal feast ; and also to that of the New Testament. And II. To consider the propriety, or rather the necessity, of the prohibition being made very thorough, searching, and penetrating, as that is brought out in the New Testament use of the saying : " A little leaven leaveneth the whole lump " (1 Cor. V. 6 ; Gal. v. 9). Part First. The paschal solemnity was of old twofold. There was, first, an atoning sacrifice offered ; and secondly, a feasting upon the sacrifice. Let us consider the reasons for the prohi- bition of leaven, as applicable to both of these parts of the solemnity. I, Two reasons for the prohibition of leaven in connection with the paschal solemnity, viewed as the offering of a sacri- fice, are given in the Old Testament. The one is found in Deut. xvi. 3 : " Thou shalt eat no leavened bread with it ; seven days shalt thou eat unleavened bread therewith, even the bread of affliction." The other is also found in that pas- sage (" for thou camest out of the land of Egypt in haste"); but it is more fully brought out h\ Exod. xii. 11 : " And thus shall ye eat it ; with your loins girded, your shoes on your feet, and your staff in your hand ; and ye shall eat it in haste : it is the Lord's passover." The lamb is slain, and its blood sprinkled for an atonement. The passover is sacri- ficed ; and the only bread suitable and appropriate to the occasion is unleavened bread ; the bread of affliction ; the bread of haste. 1. It must be the bread of affliction. But is it not a 340 UNLEAVENED BREAD. time of rejoicingi Is not the occasion on which the sacrifice is offered a great and glorious deliverance 1 Does it not call for congratulation and gladness, rather than grief 1 True. But let us look at the occasion in the light of the peculiar character and meaning of that last of the ten plagues, which ended the period of the Lord's long-suffering patience with Egypt, and brought in the redemption of Israel. It stands apart from all the preceding nine. Hitherto the visitations of God have told directly on the Egyptians alone, upon Pharaoh and his land for not letting the Lord's people go. And they were nothing more. They did not touch Goshen where the Lord's people dwelt. Btit the tenth miracle is altogether peculiar. It comes home to the Israelites as much as to the Egyptians, or rather more. It brings out at once their just liability to the same condemnation with their oppressors, and the very peculiar manner of their escape. The sentence goes forth ; death is to be in every dwell- ing ; the first-born in every house is to be smitten. Are the Israelites exempted from the sweeping force of the terrible decree 1 Is there any peculiar immunity for them ? Are they better than the Egyptians, that this doom should not be inflicted upon them 1 No j in no wise. Among them also the deadly sentence must take effect. Death must pass upon them, for that they also have sinned. But, lo ! a wondrous interposition of grace ; and of grace wholly unmerited, gratuitous, and free. As when Isaac was about to be slain on Mount Moriah, a ram caught in the thicket was provided by God to ransom him, so, by the appointment of the same God, the first-born of his seed in Egypt are, on that memorable night, redeemed ; and every family in Israel can attest the efficacy of the atoning blood of the lamb. What more suitable to such a sacrifice, in such circum- UNLEAVENED BREAD. 341 stances, than the use of unleavened bread, as bread of afiiiction 1 And affliction of what sort 1 Not now affliction merely in the remembrance of their sufferings ; but now specially, and now for the first time fully, affliction in the remembrance of their sins. In the previous plagues there might be room for imagining, that upon some ground of merit or goodness in themselves or their fathers, they were well-pleasing to God, while their enemies were simply objects of his wrath ; but now that imagination is dashed for ever. They are made to perceive the common sentence of death for sin lying on them as weU as on their ojDpressors. They are themselves the children of wrath even as others. It seems as if God were now saying to them, — Think not that I am displeased with your adversaries only, and that I altogether approve of you. What, are ye better than they 1 Is it merely Pharaoh's hard- ness of heart that hinders your escape from bondage ? Is it not rather your own guilt 1 The obstinacy of Pharaoh and all his host cannot, as you shall presently see, frustrate my purpose on your behalf. But your iniquities are great. For you may not imagine that it is on the footing of any claim you have on my favour, or any regard I am bound to have to you, that while Pharaoh and his host are destined to perish in the Eed Sea, you and your children are to inherit a goodly land. Before the struggle ends between your enemy and your God, before Pharaoh is overthrown and you are saved, you must be taught to know that you have no right or claim to expect any other treatment than what was meted out so terribly to the Egyptians ; that you are in the same condem- nation with them, and, if saved at all, must be saved by grace through faith ; by grace sovereign and free, through faith in the sacrifice of the vicarious lamb, offered and accepted on the part of God, appropriated and reahsed by you as partakers of it. 342 UNLEAVENED BREAD. What a call, in these circumstances, for bread of affliction ! Truly it was a time for them to afflict their souls. They had now to call to mind, not only the long train of misery they had suffered, but the accumulated and aggravated sins they had been committing, and, above all, the sin of their ever imagining, for a moment, that they had any right or claim to the favour of Jehovah, or differed at all from the Egyptians otherwise than by grace alone. When, in every family apart, the father plunged his knife into the bosom of the lamb, as the only substitute for his own first- born, what thoughts might rise in the breasts of the house- hold ! But for this lamb, what loss must have been ours ! What wailing and bitter weeping ! Our beautiful, our beloved, our firstborn, must have gone ! And justly ; how justly, we now only for the first time begin to see. Certainly this judg- ment is deserved by us not less than by the Egyptians ; nay, even more ; for our sin against covenanted mercy, our grievous sin of unbelief, our murmuring and doubting and distrust. Is it not indeed an hour for eating the bread of affliction 1 And now Christ your Passover is sacrificed for you ; and whatever feast you keep, you may well keep it, consider- ing the meaning of the sacrifice, with unleavened bread as the bread of affliction. Do you indeed, the Spirit of grace and of supplication being poured on you, look on him whom you have pierced 1 Must it not be to mourn as one mourneth for an only son ; and be in bitterness as one that is in bitterness for a first-born 1 The Israelites might be afflicted as if they had literally lost their firstborn, when they so narrowly escaped that very calamity through the substitution of the paschal lamb, and the shedding and the sprinkling of his blood. How much more may you be thus afflicted in proportion to the clearer view you have, both of the real value and spiritual meaning of the sacrifice, and the accursed cause or occasion of UNLEAVENED BREAD. 343 it, which is your own sin 1 It may well be the bread of affliction, on account of sin, that you eat, beside that sacrifice of atonement for sin. It cannot be the bread of indifference to sin. It cannot be the bread of complacency in sin. If you know why that sacrifice is needed ; if you feel the reality of that substitution of Christ in the room and stead of sinners, and of yourself the chief of sinners ; if you have anything of a spiritual insight into the pain, and shame, and agony, and curse of the cross of Christ, you cannot but mourn, — I call on you to mourn, — over sin and its exceeding sinfulness ; over your own sin in all its heinousness. And affliction for sin, remember, implies the putting away from you of all its leaven. 2. Unleavened bread is the bread of haste. And haste is assigned, at least in part, as the reason of the bread being unleavened. This haste as well as the affliction is connected with the sacrifice, considered simply in itself, and apart from any feasting upon it. The affliction springs out of meditation on the need and occasion for the sacrifice : the haste turns on a consideration of its design and aim. It is a sacrifice called for an account of your helpless participation in the guilt and condemnation of the world : it is a sacrifice designed and fitted to secure your escape out of the world, and your entrance into rest. The last link is now severed of the chain that kept the Israelites in bondage, Not by any compromise with Pharaoh, or any propitiation offered to him, is their deliverance achieved. It is not really Pharaoh, with all his hardness of heart, but a greater than Pharaoh that has to deal with them, even God himself. God has to reckon with them for their sins, no less than with the Egyptians for theirs, and to exact the stern and unrelenting penalty. Behold the lamb slain ! The very God who is the avenger himself appoints the victim. Atoning blood is shed, and sprinkled on every door post. 344 UNLEAVENED BREAD. And now all is ready ; every obstacle is taken out of the way ; justice is satisfied ; guilt expiated ; God pacified and reconciled ; Israel, God's fijst-born, and all the first-born of Israel redeemed. Up ; arise : the enemy's power is broken, on the very same night and by the very same transaction that has secured your freedom. Therefore, bestir yourselves. There is need of haste. The opportunity is as precarious as it is precious. All now is favourable : the tyrant is con- founded ; the atonement is accepted ; nothing farther is re- quired ; on — on at once and in haste, for the pilgrimage and for the promised land. Whatever feast you have to eat, it must be in haste ; whatever bread you have to prepare, it must be bread of haste. Lose no time in costly or dilatory preparation. Care not for any seasoning you might once find necessary to make your bread palatable. Take it unleavened; you have no leisure to be nice or punctilious or delicate ; your leaving Egypt is a movement of haste. And so, my friends, is your leaving the fellowship of this evil world, upon the footing of Christ your passover being sacrificed for you. You have no time to be leavening the bread you have to eat. Consider the work you have on hand ; the design of the sacrifice of Christ for you. It is to give you a full, free, and final escape from the wrath to come, from the corruption that is in the world through lust, from the world itself, wholly lying in wickedness. It is to open to you the way without money and without price, for hasten- ing on with the light of God's face shining upon you, and the power of God's Spirit working in you, to the rest that re- maineth for the people of God. Hastening on, I say ; for surely there is need of promptness, decision, alacrity. Haste, flee for your lives, look not behind you, neither stay in all the plain. And be not careful about the mere condiments and relishing ingredients of the food you are to eat. " Make not provision for the flesh to fulfil the lusts thereof." It is loss UNLEAVENED BREAD. 345 of time to be concerning yourselves about leaven in your bread. Let it be unleavened. The leaven of sin, or sinful indulgence, or sinful ease, is a hindrance and delay. You are in haste and have no time for sin, even as you are in afflic- tion and have no heart for sin. The bread for you is godly sorrow for sin and pressing toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. II. There is a feast to be kept. It is (1), a feast upon the sacrifice, and (2), a feast preparatory and preliminary to the journey for which the sacrifice opens up the way. And in both views of the feast there is a propriety in the bread used at it being unleavened. 1. When the paschal lamb was slain, its flesh was eaten ; a significant act, implying, when spiritually understood and performed in faith, a personal appropriation of the sacrifice ; in all its painful and bitter reality no doubt ; but also in all its blessed efficacy. Your life, believers, is a constant feeding upon Christ as the Lamb of God that taketh away the sin of the world, as your passover sacrificed for you. You feed on him by faith, a personal appropriating faith, laying hold of Christ not as the Saviour of sinners generally, but as your own Saviour in particular ; living by the faith of him who loved you and gave himself for you. The ample warrant you have, in the gi-acious promises and peremptory commands of the gospel thus to appropriate Christ as your own, and the power of the Holy Ghost, by which you are enabled to do so, I need not now set forth. Neither need I dwell on the necessity of this appropriating act or habit of faith being continued in constant exercise, if the spiritual life is to be sustained and cherished. But while Christ your passover sacrificed for you is thus the staple and substantial food of your souls, while you are to feed on him alone, by a simple appropriating faith, you are 346 UNLEAVENED BREAD. yourselves to provide and bring with you to the feast suitable bread. For the flesh of the lamb, which you have to eat re- quires bread. The meat which God appoints and provides is to be eaten with bread that you are yourselves to prepare. In pre- paring it, you have the help of the Holy Spirit. And by his help, you make it imleavened. For the bread, thus viewed, is the frame of mind in which you feed on Christ. Let that be simple, pure, unadulterated, unalloyed. Let there be nothing in the bread to mar the sweet relish and nutritive power of the meat. Other feasts may need high seasoning, pungent sauces, exciting stimulants. This needs nothing of the sort. It is to be eaten with bread wholly unleavened. There need not be any leaven, even of spiritual rapture or ecstasy. There cannot be any leaven of sin, of guilt or guile, of insincerity or impurity, of malice or wickedness. It must be the unleavened bread of sincerity and truth. Sincerity and truth ! Yes ! that is all. That is the only bread. Let me bring that to the feast, that and nothing more ! Not deep feeling, high wrought enthusiasm, convic- tions, frames, emotions ; but only, malice and wickedness being purged out, the plain bread of sincerity and truth, guileless sincerity, truthful simplicity, the single eye, the honest heart. Give me that, 0 blessed Spirit ; and then shall I taste the full flavour and reHsh of that flesh which is meat indeed and that blood which is drink indeed. 2. The feast upon the sacrifice was a feast for the way with all its work and all its warfare. The slain lamb was eaten, not merely for present refreshment and satisfaction ; but for strength to face the coming trial of the march through the wilderness to Canaan. So Christ your passover, sacrificed for you, is to be the food of your souls, not only that you may be ever freshly recreated and revived, with experiences ever fresh of his sufficiency for your wants as sinners and his sweetness to your taste as believers, but that you may be UNLEAVENED BREAD. 347 ever freshly animated, enlivened, invigorated, for going forth at his call to whatever journey, or labour, or strife, or suffer- ing ; whatever exercise of self-denial or self-sacrifice ; what- ever service of godliness or brotherly kindness or charity he may be pleased to set before you. In truth, his flesh will not be meat to you, his blood will not be drink to you, for the nourishment of your own spiritual life, unless they are so also for the quickening and nerving of all your powers, as called to be pilgrims, soldiers, workers along with him and in his cause. In the view of that calling, how deeply does it concern you ; that, as you feed on Christ alone as your strength, your life, Christ your passover sacrificed for you ; so you should feed on him with unleavened bread ; that you should sufi"er nothing at any time in your manner of feeding upon him that may hinder your getting the full good of your feeding on him, not only for your own. ease, but for the doing of his will ; or in other words, that you should lay aside every weight and the sin that doth so easily beset you, and run with patience the race that is set before you, looking unto Jesus. Part Second. The prohibition of leaven was very searching and very thorough. It was to be utterly excluded or expelled. 'Not a trace or vestige of it was to be allowed to remain in the most obscure dwelling, in the remotest corner of the land. The propriety, or rather the necessity of this, in a spiritual point of view, may be seen if we consider this saying of the apostle : " A little leaven leaveneth the whole lump." Twice he uses it in writing to the Galatians (Gal. v. 9), as well as here. He is there speaking of doctrine, of the taint of error allowed to insinuate itself into the system of the truth as it is 348 UNLEAVENED BREAD. in Jesus, or into the minds of those who embrace it. In par- ticular he is deprecating any interference with the simplicity of the gospel, as it opens up the way of a sinner's justification or acceptance, through the righteousness of Christ alone, received by faith alone. The point at issue in the Galatian Church seemed a very narrow one ; it was not a question as to the sufficiency of the meritorious obedience and atoning death of Christ as the ground of peace with God, or even as to the efficacy of faith, resting on that ground. It had respect merely to the expediency of so far giving in to the prejudice of the Jewish converts, for the purpose of avoiding offence, as to allow the rite of circumcision still to be admin- istered, or at least to make some little distinction in favour of such as were circumcised. This in. itself might seem a matter of comparative indifference, and the concession might be put on such a footing as not very directly to touch the essential freeness and fulness of the salvation of the gospel. But Paul instantly detects the snare and discovers the danger. 1^0 man could be more careless than Paul was about cir- cumcision considered simply in itself, now that it had ceased to be a sacrament, a sign and seal of the righteousness of the faith which Abraham had while yet uncircumcised, and had become really nothing, a thing of no avail, which whether a man had or not, was not worthy of a moment's thought. He was willing to go very far in the way of becoming all things to all men in this very particular ; and made no scruple about allowing Timothy to be circumcised, inasmuch as being a Jew by the mother's side, he ought to have been circumcised before. But whenever the attempt was made to insist on circumcision, under whatever plea or pretence of propriety and good feeling, as a preliminary to the enjoyment of Christian fellowship, or a help to the assurance of Christian faith ; Paul would not give place by subjection, no not for an hour. True, the thing itself is of no consequence ; circumcision is UNLEAVENED BREAD. 349 nothing, and uncircumcision is nothing. But if circumcision or uncircumcision, or anything else whatever, be it a mere form or the holiest sacrament, be introduced in any way as an element, however subordinate and subsidiary, in the matter of our acceptance in the sight of God ; if any stress be laid upon it as determining our state and standing before God ; the whole gospel method of salvation is overturned ; it is no more by grace exclusively that we are saved. Hence the apostle's extreme jealousy of whatever might divide the believer's confidence for his peace with God, between Christ, presented to him and embraced by him, and anything in or upon himself. And hence the strenuous earnestness Avith which he protests against the small begin- nings of error in connection with this great and vital doctrine of Christianity : "Behold, I Paul say unto you that if ye be circumcised, Christ shall profit you nothing." Yes. Though you may think it a light thing to give in with reference to so trifling a matter as your mere submission to a harmless cere- mony— and I own that in one aspect it is a trifle, — yet I testify to every man that is thus circumcised, that he thereby puts himself again under the conditions of the covenant of works, and is a debtor to do the whole law. He virtually makes his election. And not choosing to stand on the footing of Christ's righteousness alone, he must make up his mind to what is the only alternative, even to dispense with it altogether, and work out his claim on the footing of his own obedience. So Christ hath become really of no cff'ect to you, whosoever of you are thus returning to the old way of being justified by the law : ye are fallen from grace. And all this flows from your being weak enough to consent to such a compliance, as might seem at first a very trifling accom- modation, on the subject of what is now become a very insignificant ceremony ! Well, therefore, may you be warned to beware of a little leaven leavening the Avhole lump. 350 UNLEAVENED BKEAD. And tlie danger is all the greater, if, instead of circum- cision, an obsolete ordinance, what you are tempted to lean on, as in part at least efficacious, be an ordinance still in force, a sacrament having, in the right use of it, a precious value and significancy. Precious, I say, are the sacra- ments of Baptism and of the Lord's Supper as seals of righteousness otherwise received, even by faith alone. But if you begin to attach importance to them, as if by some mystical charm or potent spell they contributed somewhat to the making of your peace with God — away with them. Better the sacrament perish than you go down to destruction with this lie in your hand. Yes ; away with whatever works or services or ceremonies could come in between you and Christ, you as sinners, Christ as your Saviour ; count all things but loss, that you may win Christ. Here, with the Corinthians, Paul uses the maxim diffe- rently ; not as with the Galatians in its application to a question of doctrine, but in its bearing on a question of morals. The connection, however, between the two is very close, more so than might at first appear. We may observe, indeed, that both gospel faith and gospel holiness have this in common, that generally, in point of fact, they, both of them, are substances of so fine a texture, so delicate and divine, as to be peculiarly sensitive to the influence of any uncongenial element insinuat- ing itself into the mass. It is the most perfect and exact in- strument that is most easily disordered. It is the purest mirror that is dimmed by the slightest stain ; the richest robe that suffers most from the least rufl&ing of an untender hand ; the plant nearest the sun that a single blast of pesti- lential atmosphere wiU cause to droop, and wither, and die. So is it with holiness, as well as faith in a community of Christians, or in the breast of an individual believer. A UNLEAVENED BREAD. 351 little leaven, and wlio shall say how little, leaveneth the whole lump. Thus, both in a question of faith and in a question of holiness the maxim applies. And as to holiness, there are three senses in which it may be urged. 1. Consider the injury the very least tolerated sin may do to your character or good name. That is a most important prac- tical consideration. You may be tempted to think that you have credit enough to carry you through with untarnished honour and unimpaired influence, even though you venture within the Hmits of what may be dangerous or doubtful, and that one questionable spot, it may be, contracted in your familiar con- formity to the world, or your occasional compliance with its ways, will not be so noticeable as to detract from the clear shining of your light before men, and the weight of your testimony among them. But beware. It is on that single spot that all eyes Avill be turned. What ! will ye expect to find a world that is on the watch to speak evil, even of your good, ready to put a kind and candid and generous construc- tion on your evil 1 Nay, will they not rather use the little leaven for leavening the whole lump 1 They will not give your single sin the benefit of your otherwise unimpeachable holiness : but they will give your holiness the full scathe and scorn of your sin. They wiU take advantage of the little leaven of your one infirmity or slight inconsistency to dis- credit your entire Christian profession. They will make such good use of it as to ensure that in the eyes of men it shall leaven the whole lump, 2, But there is a far more serious consideration to be weighed. It is a small matter to be judged of man's judg- ment. In the judgment of God, a little leaven leaveneth the whole lump. So James teaches (ii. 10), "Whosoever shall keep the whole law, and yet offend in one point, he is guilty of all," If you break the law at all, you break it altogether. A single breach of it brings you in for the full 352 UNLEAVENED BREAD. guilt of breaking the whole of it. For the law is one whole. And so are you, who, by breaking it in one point, become guilty of all. You cannot isolate your one solitary offence, so as to make it perform quarantine, and rid you of its risk and its responsibility. 'No ; for guilt is a personal quality or condition. It is an attribute or circumstance attaching not abstractly to the sin, but personally to the sinner. It is I who am guilty, not my sin, as if it were something apart from me. Beware of a subtle snare here. It is the snare of imagining that yon may somehow separate some little fault in you or about you from yourselves ; the notion, the fiction, of a sort of dualism, in virtue of which you dream, that though you cannot but acknowledge yourselves to be more or less chargeable with guilt, in some one particular feature of character or line of conduct, you may yet be on the whole, as one believing generally the gospel, righteous in the sight of God. Be very sure, that if the guilt of but one breach of the law still lies upon you, you really are guilty of all. And so long as the guilt of that one offence remains uncancelled, you cannot warrantably appropriate to yourselves any of the blessedness of a justified state before God. In other words, you have really no sin pardoned if all be not pardoned. For you cannot be in two opposite states, or in two opjDosite relations to God at one and the same time. You are either guilty altogether or righteous altogether ; guilty altogether through your continued breach of the law, be it but in one, and that ever so insignificant a particular ; guilty of all, or righteous altogether, through your unreserved acceptance of the righteousness of Christ ; justified altogether, justified from all. Is there any one evil thing still cleaving to you for which your heart condemns you 1 Are you allowing yourself in any practice, following any course of life of which you are not quite sure that it is quite blameless 1 Then, at least in respect of that one particular, you are not, UNLEAVENED BREAD. 353 you cannot be, justified. And if not in respect of that, then not in respect of anything ; not at all. If the guilt of a single unconfessed and unforgiven sin lies upon you, you have no part or lot in the justifying grace of God as the gospel reveals it ; no peace in believing ; no joy in the Holy Ghost. That is great truth to be deeply pondered. 3. The proverb, however, as here appHed by the apostle, has reference chiefly and ultimately to the influence of cherished or tolerated sin, as affecting not merely your character before men, and your judicial standing before God, but your personal purity and holiness. It penetrates, per- vades, pollutes, the whole inner man. We need no proof or illustration here. The fact is but too often matter of obser- vation, and, alas ! also of sad experience. Consider only how little leaven will suffice ; and how thoroughly the very least will leaven the whole lump. How little leaven will do the work ! A casual walk on the house top, the idle glance of a wandering eye, began the movement in David's heart which, issuing in foul lust and murder, left him with conscience seared and callous, till the prophet's voice broke the spell : " Thou art the man." It was but a little, a very little, secret covetousness that lurked in the bosom of the traitor apostle, a slight leaning towards worldly gain, which he hoped to make compatible with follow- ing Jesus. But it practised and prospered until it blackened his whole soul, making it a fit habitation for the devil, who was to hurry him down a steep place to treachery, remorse, and suicide. The beginning of evil may be but a single thought, a solitary image in a disordered fancy ; a single liberty taken but for once ; a rare instance of neglected duty or omitted prayer. But the same occasion occurs again. The thought, the imagination, the desire, springs up again. The accursed thing has got a footing within you. It is an inmate in your breast. You have to deal with it one way or 2 A 354 UNLEAVENED BREAD. other ; to grapple with, it, or to make terms with it. Alas ! this last expedient is the readiest. You give in to it, at the expense of your conscious standing in the favour and fellow- ship of God. You cease to be so much concerned and vexed about it as once you would have been. You become indiffer- ent. Your conscience is defiled. Secret prayer is straitened, or turned into a form. Heart religion declines. For you have no heart now to go so deep within as once you did in searching yourselves ; no heart to be as honest and open as once you were in laying out all before God. Thus soon, too soon, either a worthless, lifeless, routine of ceremony, or loose worldly living somehow reconciled with a profession of godli- ness, or open backsliding, and profligate apostasy ensue. Tor consider not only how little leaven will do the work, but how thoroughly it wiU do it ; leavening the whole lump. It was after all but a Kttle tolerance of sin in an ofiending brother for which Paul had to reprove the Corin- thians. And yet see how it worked ! See this in what it cost them to get the leaven ultimately cast out (2 Cor. vii. 11). They sorrowed unto repentance ! They sorrowed after a godly sort ! And how did their very sorrow prove the deep and wide working of the evil leaven ! " For behold, the selfsame thing, that ye sorrowed after a godly sort, what carefulness it wrought in you, yea, what clearing of yourselves, yea, what indignation, yea, what fear, yea, what vehement desire, yea, what zeal, yea, what revenge ! " Yes ! it was no slight or superficial penitential exercise they had undergone before Paul could say, " In all things ye have approved yourselves to be clear in this matter." So also David's bitter anguish as he pours out his all but despairing grief, may attest the same sad truth. Eead and ponder the recorded instances, whether of backsliding healed, or of apostasy never forgiven. What awful testimonies have you to the rapid, resistless, thorough-going influence, of one little UNLEAVENED BEE AD. 355 habit of evil, first perhaps apologised for in a brother, and then tolerated in yourself, eating away all spirituahty, and landing you in mere carnal formality or unconcern. Purge out therefore the leaven. It is always dangerous. And never is it more so than when you come to prayer, or any solemn service, regarding any iniquity in your heart. 356 PARTAKEKS OF THE ALTAR. XXIL , PAETAKERS OF THE ALTAE. "Are not they which eat of the sacrifices partakers of the altar ? " — 1 Cor. X. 18. The maxim, or principle, which the putting of this question implies, is of quite general application. It covers all or any sacrifices, offered upon all or any altars. Whatever may be the altar, and to whatever god dedicated, and with whatever doctrine or ritual associated, if I eat of its appropriate and appointed sacrifices, knowingly and intentionally, I so con- nect myself with it that it becomes an inconsistency and con- tradiction on my part to have anything to do with any rival or antagonist service. I must choose the altar with which I wish to be identified ; and I must confine my worship ex- clusively to that altar, with its appropriate and appointed sacrifices. I cannot therefore partake of the sacrifices of two opposing and inconsistent altars. I must hold to the one and reject the other. So far the argument is in itself plain enough. And it is confirmed and clenched by the appeal to Old Testament law. " Israel after the flesh " could have no doubt on this point. Their " eating of the sacrifices," under such solemn vows to the Lord, and such awful warnings against idolatry, as their covenant involved, did indeed make them " partakers of the altar." It would seem therefore, that in point of fact, there is a connection somehow formed between the worshipper and his worship, whatever his wor- ship may be ; and that, in the case at least of the true I'ARTAKEKS OF THE ALTAR. 357 worship, the connection is one that is thoroughly exclusive and monopolising. Hence the importance of our inquiry into the nature, the principle, the rationale, of the connection, as indicated by the language here used to denote it. That language is very precise and exact ; more so than our translation makes it. The expression " partakers of " (ver. 18), is the same as " communion " (ver. 16), and " have fellowship" (ver. 20). The word in verses 17 and 21 is different, and not so strong. But in these three verses (16, 18, 20) the English rendering ought to bring out the identity of phraseology in the original. In all the three verses the idea conveyed is one and the same. It is that of joint- participation ; implying community of a very close and inti- mate personal kind between those jointly partaking and that of which they jointly partake. They have all of them, alike and together, that in common with it which makes them and it, in some real and emphatic sense, one. In all the three verses, the object thus jointly partaken of is somehow con- nected and mixed up with an act of sacrificial worship. Thus (ver. 16) it is what is offered in sacrifice, the substance or body of the sacrificial victim. Again (ver. 18), it is that on which the sacrifice is offered, the altar. While once more (ver. 20), it is the god or gods, real or imaginary, to whom the sacrifice is offered upon the altar. We have thus the sacrifice, the altar, the deity. It is important to notice distinctly these three points or modes of personal connec- tion between the worship and the worshipper. 1. I take the last of these instances first (ver. 20). It is the case of a heathen sacrifice. What the apostle tolls the Corin- thians is this : — If you are parties to it, by eating of it as such, in the temple of the heathen gods, or at a feast in honour of them, you are partakers of, or joint-partakers with, these gods. You and they communicate with one another ; you with them and they with you. You and they 358 PARTAKERS OF THE ALTAR. have fellowship, or are fellows. There is real community, of some personal sort, between them and you. This is a serious consideration. Nor is the force of it blunted or evaded by your reminding me of what I have often said ; that as the idol is nothing, so what is offered in sacrifice to idols is nothing (ver. 19). True. If what has been thus used comes to be sold in the shambles as common meat, and set on the table at a common entertainment as common food, it is none the worse for the idolatrous use that has been made of it. It is still good, as a creature of God, and not to be refused if it be received with thanksgiving, being sanctified by the word of God and prayer. It may be so received when it simply forms part of a common meal. But can it be so received when the eating of it in the idol's temple, or in honour of the idol at the sacrificial table, is part and parcel of the sacrificial worship ; or do I contradict myself when I warn you that, by receiving it in that way and on that footing, you have fellowship or joint-participation with devils ? No ! But I tell you a very solemn and awful truth. It is indeed the fact that the idols, or gods, whom the heathen worship with these sacrifices, are nothing ; have no existence save in superstitious fond dream or abject fear. The worship of them, therefore, is so far to be accounted as no worship at all. The sacrifices are nought. But that is not really an adequate solution, or full ex- planation, of the deep and deadly mystery of heathen idolatry. It is not merely to be characterised, negatively, as an idle ceremony ; the worship of nothing by means of nothing ; offering to an idol which is a nonentity, a sacrifice that is a nullity. No. The idol temple is not thus all empti- ness ; nor is the throne of idol worship left all vacant. The true God being set aside, and there being none else to take his place ; devils, malignant demons, evil spirits, the Satanic intelligences, the principalities and powers, once of PARTAKERS OF THE ALTAR. 359 heaven and liglit, now of darkness and hell, who have become spiritual wickedness in high places, rush in to fill the void, to occupy the empty shrine, to appropriate the service that is, as it were, going a begging for an object. Jupiter, Juno, Mars, Minerva, Venus — the chosen goddess of Corinth, and patroness of its nameless infamies — these are all unreal The things offered in sacrifice to them have, so far as they are concerned, no real significancy. As sacrifices to them, they have, strictly speaking, no real existence. They are nothing, as the gods to whom they are offered are no- thing. But the system which owns these objects of worship, and this mode of worshipping them, is no mere negation or nullity. A diabolic agency is at work in it : diabolic in- spiration is breathed into it : diabolic presidency is over it ; and diabolic spirits recognise and accept its service as their own, Eeally, therefore, whether they mean it so or not, the Gentiles do sacrifice the things which they sacrifice to devils and not to God. To have anything to do with their sacrifices, to eat of them, is to have fellowship with devils. It is the communion of devils. 2. When it is the Jewish sacrificial service that is in question (ver. 18) the object of the communion or joint- participation implied in it is said to be, not the being worshipped, but, as it were, the organ or instrument of worship ; not the deity, but the altar. The former idea, however, is really included in this new one. The altar has no meaning apart from the God whose altar it is. To be partakers of the altar, is to be partakers of it as an altar ; as erected by the authority, and for the honour of him whose name it bears. It is therefore to be partakers of him as owning the altar, as being the proprietor of the altar, as accessible in and by the altar. Thus, by the altar we are to understand God, to whom the altar is dedicated. Not 360 PARTAKEES OF THE ALTAE. God absolutely, as he is in himself : but God, viewed in his relation to the altar ; God, considered as acknowledging the altar- worship ; propitiated by means of it, pacified, recon- ciled. Communion with the altar, in Jewish worship, is communion with God ; with God contemplated as requiring and appointing, and receiving satisfaction for the violation of his law, an atonement for the guilt of sin. 3. In Christian worship (ver. 16) the object of this com- munion or joint participation is described as being, not he who is worshipped by sacrifice, nor the altar upon which the worship by sacrifice is conducted, but the actual sacri- fice itself, the body and blood of Christ : " The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not the communion of the blood of Christ ] The bread which we break, is it not the com- munion of the body of Christ? " (1 Cor. x. 16). The body and blood of Christ, Christ personally, Christ sufi"ering and dying, Christ crucified ; this is that of which now in the gospel dispensation we have the communion, of which we are communicants or joint partakers. He is now the sacri- ficial victim. And therefore now the fellowship may fitly be held to be not only with the Being to whom sacrifice is ofi'ered ; and with the altar on which sacrifice is offered ; but also with the sacrifice itself. This could not with propriety be said, so long as the victim offered on the altar was a bull, a goat, a heifer, a lamb. Community, or joint participation, with such a sacrifice, it could be no great favour — no high compliment, — to ascribe to any one. But when the sacri- fice is Christ, it is another matter altogether. The fellow- ship or communion of the altar now is fellowship and communion, not merely with him, who on the altar and by means of it, is sacrificially worshipped; but with him also, who, on the altar, is sacrificially ofi'ered, or sacrificially offers himself. The community between me and the altar noAv is community, on the one hand, between me and the righteous PARTAKERS OF THE ALTAR. 361 loving Father, whom I see, in the altar, requiring, providing, accepting an infinitely worthy substitute to bear my guilt, and satisfy justice in my stead, and so make peace. It is, at the same time, on the other hand, community between me and the eternal, well-beloved Son, whom I see, in the altar, through the eternal Spirit, offering himself without spot unto God. It would thus appear that the connection implied in our being partakers of the altar, of whose sacrifice we eat, is real and personal. So much surely, at the least, may be concluded from the induction of particulars in this passage. There is more meant than simply that the worshippers have com- mitted themselves to a particular kind of worship, with which their credit and standing are considered to be identi- fied, and to which therefore they are under an obligation, in honour and consistency, to adhere ; anything incompatible with it being religiously shunned. It is not merely that having made common cause with a certain system, they will best consult their interest and their character by being faith- ful to it ; that only by being faithful to it can they expect to reap the full fruit and benefit of it ; and that by trying, in this matter, to serve two masters, they may lose their hold of both. All that may be true ; but it is not the truth here taught. A principle much more vital is asserted as regards the tie that binds us to whatever sacrificial service we make ourselves a part of. What that principle is, — that now is the question. It is described in such a way as to suggest something like incorporation or identification. The worsliipper, it might seem, in some sense, loses or foregoes his separate individual standing as he enters into the great transaction of the altar, and realises his interest in it. A community of character ; a certain unity, or oneness of nature, is wrought between him and it. This kind of communion, or, as it were. 362 PARTAKERS OF THE ALTAR. personal identification, may be considered in its application (1) to a heathen sacrifice ; and (2) to the Christian sacrifice. For in this aspect of them, they have a certain analogy, in virtue of which they may be compared, as vrell as a deep element of antagonism, in respect of which they are to be contrasted. (1.) In the case of a heathen sacrificial service, this sort of identification which I have been indicating is generally, if not always, at least when the service is sincere and earnest, very complete and thorough. It becomes, in fact, a kind of fusion or absorption. The enthusiastic or fanatic devotee sinks, we might almost say, his personality in the idolatrous ceremony with which he is incorporated. His individual powers and faculties are in a sense super- seded ; his very sensations are suspended. It is not so much the worshipper that now lives, as the spirit of the worship that lives in him. Let that spirit be active and energetic. It is not always so. Sometimes the worship is dead and formal ; a mere cold routiue. Then, as happens always in similar circumstances, the worshipper will be a mere dead and cold formalist him- self. But I assume the idolatrous organisation to be in full force and free play, and to be inspired and instinct with its own proper vitality. And I assume that I, the worshipper, am awakened to vitality too. I throw myself into the worship as many a poor deluded child of misery and guilt has done, and is doing. I am in earnest ; terribly in earnest ; on the rack of sinful lusts ; goaded by the sting of remorse ; my whole inner man, my entire spiritual frame, laid bare to the lashings of stormy passions and guilty terrors. In this estate my keen and sensitive soul comes in contact with a majestic idol car, or gorgeous idol temple, in which a ministry of expiation and purgation is continually going on. It seems to meet my case. It is what I need ; what I want ; and I give in to it. It masters PARTAKEES OF THE ALTAR. 363 me. And now, henceforth, it and I are one. It is not so much, that in it I live and move and have my being ; but it lives and moves and has its being in me. It makes me ; it moulds and fashions me. My experience, my character, my very being, it engulphs into itself and assimilates to itself. Its obscene and bloody rites, its horrid cruelties, its dark views of supernatural malignity and vindictiveness, scarcely appeased by the carnage of countless hecatombs and the incessant groans of the crushed and maimed, trodden under foot ; these come to be common features between the spirit of the idolatry, and my spirit. It is sympathy. But it is more than sympathy. There is fellow-feeling, on my part, with the method of atonement, which, with all its fell and foul attributes, has yet brought some broken relief to my vexed soul. The fellow-feeling, however, is the fruit of the self-abandonment with which, forsaking all, I hide myself in the close embracing arms of the demon who is making me his own. For there is a demon, there may be many demons, in the idolatry with which, in my fierce despair, I unite myself so convulsively. A satanic spirit does really meet my spirit in the midst of it. That satanic spirit and I become one. He whose devilish craft and cruelty devises the system, and whose devilish breath puts life in it ; he and I, — I ceasing almost to be myself, seeing only through his eyes, feeling as he feels, — he and I are one. There is fellowship, communion, between us ; not intercourse merely, but intercommunity of nature. The worship which he appropriates as his, and which 1 now appropriate as mine, makes us one. We are mutually, as it were, partakers of one another. It is his life that is now my life. We are one ; and what he is, that I now become. K this, or anything like this, is an explanation of the working of idolatry in earnest souls, is it any wonder that we should find its votaries, bearing in their character the stamp, 364 PARTAKERS OF THE ALTAR. and manifesting in their conduct the likeness, of the altar, of which they are partakers, and the gods, or devils, with whom, by its means, they have fellowship. Have we not, in this view, been accustomed greatly to understate the case, and to under- estimate the power and influence of the heathen sacrificial service 1 We speak vaguely of the natural tendency of every act or habit of worship to beget a certain harmony between the worshippers and the being or beings whom they worship. Like priest, like people, is a principle which has passed into a proverb. It is as applicable with reference to the object of worship, as with reference to its minister. Or rather, at least, when there is earnestness in the worship, it is far more so. It is impossible for any one to render honest homage to a person whom he is taught to adore as divine, and to revere as both great and good, without growing insensibly into his image. I do not speak of express and studied imi- tation ; still less of the hypocritical homage of those who give themselves a license to do whatever they have been told in fable that their gods have done. I refer rather to the insen- sible and almost unconscious working of what might be called the law of worship in an earnest man ; and more particularly to the working of it in the service of sacrifice. It is a powerful natural law ; and it cannot be doubted that it operates powerfully in all idolatry. It operates in connection both with the object and with the manner of the worship. The nature of him who requires sacrifice, and the nature of the sacrifice which he requires, both tell upon the nature of him who offers it. His principles of judgment and of con- duct in his own sphere of activity come to be in accordance with both. What his god appears to be in his dealing with him, as he presents his sacrifice, he shows himself to be in his dealings with those around and under him. He wields the sword or tomahawk after the fashion, as he interprets it, of the using of the sacrificial knife. What his idol is, that PARTAKERS OF THE ALTAR. 365 is he. Naturally, by a sure though secret spell of sympathy, this process of assimilation takes place. But this is not all. Paul brings in another element ; the element of supernatural satanic power; the presence and fellowship of a satanic spirit ; the personal agency of the Devil. For it is devil's work that is going on. It is accord- ing to the Devil's mind, if not by the Devil's inspiration, that the idol's grim face is painted, and his vile shrine is reared ; his cruel and capricious character drawn, and the horrid propitiation that is to soothe him devised. Well therefore may the Devil be personally in it all ; supplanting the idol ; joining himself to the idol- worshippers ; who now not only fondly familiar with the vanities of false gods, but fresh from the fellowship of devils, may come forth from the altar of atonement to enact, perhaps, a devil's part before a startled world, or to be found among the tombs echoing a devil's woeful complaint, as if of one come to tormemt him before the time. (2.) It is not needful to dwell separately on the Jewish sacrificial worship, which may be considered as merged in that of the gospel, and one with it, in so far as the present inquiry is concerned. I would speak now of your participa- tion in the atoning sacrifice of Christ. Here, as in the for- mer case, we must recognise the practical power of the natu- ral law of worship, which has just been noticed. You who make a covenant with God by this sacrifice of Christ, come under the operation of the law. Your connection with the sacrifice, on the faith of whose efficacy you draw near to God, is at all events such as to assimilate your nature to its nature. In this view, how all-important is it that your ideas of the nature of the sacrifice of Christ should be clear and sound. What think ye of Christ as the Lamb of God, as the propitiation for sin, as the great atoning sacrifice 1 How do 366 PARTAKERS OF THE ALTAR. you conceive of that wondrous transaction which was con- summated and finished on Calvary ; the substitution of the innocent and holy Son of God and Son of man in your room and stead ; the transference of your guilt, the demerit, the hell-deserving demerit and guilt, of your sins, from you to him ; and his endurance of the curse, the condemnation, the penal death, for you, and as your representative ; that you might not die but live ; in a word, his being made sin for you, who knew no sin, that you might be made the righteous- ness of God in him ? It is possible to put a heathen and carnal meaning in that transaction, as thus described. And some, in these days, seem to take great pleasure in doing so. Nay, they will have it that the transaction, as thus described, if the language is literally understood, is capable of no other construction. It imputes vindictive and implacable feelings of resentment to the God whom we have offended ; while at the same time it exhibits him as apt to be wrought upon by the friendly pleadings on our behalf of One who can appease his wrath by blood. And it puts our salvation on a footing, not of pure and perfect fatherly benignity in God awakening filial trust in us, but of a sort of bargaining for satisfaction or compensation upon his part, and a sort of fictitious legal plea of imputed righteousness and vicarious merit upon ours. If that were a true account of the doctrine of the atone- ment as you receive and hold it, then doubtless it might be expected, in so far as it exercised any moral influence over you at all, to exercise an influence altogether ungenial and malign. Nor is it wonderful that those who can take in no other impression regarding it should use strong terms in denouncing its paganism. But you have not so learned Christ. You form a more intelligent, as well as a more spiritual conception of what his voluntary offering of himself as an atoning sacrifice upon the PAKTAKERS OF THE ALTAR. 367 cross, really means. You see in that scene on Calvary, that negotiation of your peace between the Father and the Son, something very different from mere power withstood and ven- geance satiated. To you it shines all radiant with the beams of unspotted righteousness and holy love. And as you throw yourself into it with your whole soul in the fulness of an appropriating faith and an approving fellowship, you learn to think and feel in accordance with the principles of divine rule and government which it unfolds. Your heart comes to beat in unison with the divine heart there unveiled. And you all, " with open face beholding, as in a glass, the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image, from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord." " By the Spirit of the Lord." For he is in it and in you. He is to you, with reference to this altar and your being par- takers of it, what the evil spirit, as we have seen, is to those who, joining in the worship of idols, have fellowship with devils. The effect is not left in your case, any more than in theirs, to be mere working of a natural law. A supernatural agency is put forth ; a supernatural agent is present. The same Eternal Spirit through whom Christ offers himself with- out spot to God, is upon you and in you. It is he, the Eternal Spirit, who joins you to Christ. It is he who shuts you up into Christ. It is he who originates and sustains a real liv- ing personal union between you and Christ. Through the Eternal Spirit you are with Christ and in Christ, as he, through the Eternal Spirit, offers himself to God, What Christ is in that act, you are. What Christ sees, you see. As Christ feels, you feel. Imperfectly perhaps is this realised : but it is realised through the Eternal Spirit. Thus you are partakers of this altar. Let one or two par- ticulars of this participation be noticed for illustration, as well as for practical improvement. 1. " Father, glorify thy name " (John xii. 28). So Jesus 368 PARTAKERS OF THE ALTAR. prays when lie has full in view the offering of himself, and what it is to cost him. It is as a time of strong crying with him. In public, before all the people, he cannot restrain himself : " Now is my soul troubled ; and what shall I say 1 Father, save me from this hour : but for this cause came I to this hour. Father, glorify thy name." For the Father's name is worthy to be glorified. So the Son feels. He desires it to be glorified, as it is to be glorified in that very cross from which he so sensitively shrinks. In the judg- ment of the Son, what the Father is then and there to do, is to be very glorious to his name. The character, the nature, of the everlasting Father is to break upon the uni- verse of created intelligence with an effulgence of moral greatness and beauty surpassing aU imagination. Such is the Son's own notion of the altar of his sacrifice, and of the glory which it is to shed on the Father's name. Is it yours 1 Do you, through the Eternal Spirit, see the Father's name glorified on Calvary, as the sufferer on Calvary himself sees it 1 Have you anything of the same care and concern that he has about the Father's name being glorified? Would you rather, as he would rather, that the Father should glorify his name, than that he should save you from the hour ; the hour and the power of darkness ? Ah ! see to it that through the Eternal Spirit you are partakers of the altar ; and of this feature or attribute of the altar, that it puts the glorifying of the Father's name before and above even the saving of his chosen, his Beloved. The full discovery of the Father's glorious name, the Father's infinite perfections of righteous- ness, wisdom, truth, and love, that his suffering, the just for the unjust, is to give, is so dear and precious to the Son that it reconciles him to it all. Is it a discovery dear anc? precious to you 1 Are you glad of the insight thus got into the Father's heart, and of the assurance you receive, that no PAKTAKEKS OF THE ALTAR. 369 attribute of his is compromised or sullied on your account, because for love to you he spared not his own Son ? Are you, I might almost ask you, even more glad that the Father's name is glorified than that you yourselves are saved 1 Are you, I may at all events ask you, glad of both these things ? Does Calvary, as we\l as Bethlehem, suggest to you the song, " Glory to God in the highest," first, and then "on earth peace 1 " " Father, save me from this hour." But first, and rather, " Father, glorify thy name." 2. " Not my will, but thine, be done," is another voice from the altar of which you are partakers. It is the essence, as to the spirit of it, of the whole sacrifice. Self-abandon- ment and submission to God, entire self-renunciation and implicit obedience, these two elements together : or rather the one pure and simple principle of which they are the in- gredients,— the principle of self-surrender to do the Father's will, — that is the life, or living power, of the amazing sacri- fice. Tlirough the Eternal Spirit he thus offered himself to God. Is the same Eternal Spirit conforming you in this aspect of it to his death 1 Are you with him, in him, one with him, shut up into him, in this voluntary and unreserved surrender of himself to do the Father's will 1 Are you so par- takers with him, so identified with him, through the Eternal Spirit dwelUng in you as in him, that his act becomes yours 1 that act of his of which he speaks when he says, " Lo, I come ; " of which he speaks again when in his agony and bloody sweat he cries : Nevertheless, Father, though the cup pass not, thy will be done. It is folly, and worse than folly, to dream of your having any part or lot in that great transac- tion between the Father and the Son ; the offered and accepted sacrifice of Gethsemane and Calvary ; if you are not really and personally partakers of the altar, in the sense of your having a community of mind and nature with him who, through the Eternal Spirit, offered himself upon it to God. 2b 370 PAKTAKERS OF THE ALTAR. Substitution there is in that transaction ; imputation there is also in the recognising of your interest in it. But to trust in the substitution, or to claim the imputation, while there is no real and actual personal participation, is folly, I repeat, and worse than folly ten thousand times befooled. Why does the Spirit work faith in me 1 Why am I summoned, in the gospel, to believe 1 Is it not that Christ and I may be one, intelligently one, confidingly and lovingly one, one by mutual consent and trust in one another, one in spirit, one in mind and heart, one in nature, and therefore — only therefore — one in law, one in interest, one in history, one in destination for ever ? Oh ! that the Eternal Spirit may bend and break this self-willed soul of mine, and breathe into me something of the soul of the holy child Jesus ; that I may lay myself beside him, alongside of him, on that bloody altar of atonement; that I may be in him, part and parcel of his very self, as in his offering of himself he says, " Not my will, but thine, be done." 3. "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" That is a terrible part of the experience of the altar, in respect of which you are called to be partakers of it. You understand the meaning of that sore and bitter cry. It is the cry of the victim bearing sin. The bull, the goat, the heifer, on whose unconscious head were laid the confessed sins of Israel, uttered no such wailing moan. Your being partakers of the altar on which these victims bled and died might imply the utterance of no such wailing moan by you. But it is otherwise here at this altar, when it is one who feels it who bears the load ! One who feels it ! Yes, truly. Feels it as neither holiest man nor highest angel could ever feel it ! Feels it as his being ever in the bosom of the Father qualifies the Son for feeling it. Guilt is upon him ; hell-deserving guilt ; the guilt of myriads of hell-deserving sins. And the doom of guilt is upon him : the dark and PARTAKERS OF THE ALTAR. 37l dismal doom of separation from his God ! He is making his soul an offering for sin. And he feels it when he cries, " ISly God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me ]" Ah, me ! What is sin to me, and the guilt of sin, and the doom of guilt 1 Am I in Christ, is Christ in me, in that cry of his of unknown agony 1 Eternal Spirit, make me partaker of the altar where that cry was extracted from my bleeding, dying Saviour. Let sin be to me what it is to him in the lifting up of that fearful voice. To be forsaken of God ! Let that be to me what it is to him. Let there be no indifference in me to what so wrung the soul of Jesus when he cried, " My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me 1 " 4. " Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit." It is sunshine now. The cloud has passed away, and there beams upon that altar the light of heaven's brightest and most radiant smile. The divine victim is upon the altar still ; he is suffering still ; and he has yet to die the accursed death. But a glad and grateful sense of his acceptance in the Father's sight sheds over his parting soul a pure and perfect peace. Yes. His offering of himself, he feels, is not to be in vain. In his endurance, and for his endurance, of the penal cross ; in his thus doing, and for his thus doing, his Father's will, he himself finds favour with the Father. And it is in quietness and assurance that he rests, as, seeing his Father's countenance no longer turned away, he pours out from his closing lips the words of filial faith and love, " Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit." May I hope to be partaker of the altar in this feature also of its experi- ence 1 Here too let me, through the Eternal Spirit, join myself to Christ, and lose myself in Christ, in that great con- summation of his offering of himself to the Father. Yes ! Let me lose myself in him. For otherwise, how can I ever presume, living or dying, to commend anything of mine to God 1 My spirit, my soul, myself. "Woe is me ! unclean ! 372 PARTAKERS OF THE ALTAR. undone ! guilty ! all but lost ! I dare not venture, either now for my present comfort, or when my last hour comes for my eternal hope, to ask or expect that the righteous and holy God should take charge of anything I committed to him. For, alas ! in myself I am a wandering orphan ; far gone from my father's home and heart. And when breath is fail- ing, what can I do but dismiss the trembling, shivering, ten- ant of my dissolving frame, shelterless and naked, into the dark unknown ] But let me be in Christ on that cross ; one with him there ; crucified with him ; his expiation of guilt of deepest dye mine ; his endurance of its utmost penalty mine ; the worth and merit of his obedience even reaching to that dark death mine ; the Father's acceptance of him mine. Then his commending of his spirit to the Father is mine. His prayer of hope is mine. " Bow down thine ear, 0 Lord. Hear me, for I am poor and needy ! Preserve my soul, for I am holy. Save thy servant that trusteth in thee " (Psalm Ixxxvi.) 5. "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." This also is part of that altar-experience of which I am to be partaker. These workers of iniquity, have they no know- ledge 1 They irritate and persecute me. They harden their hearts against my kindness and my sorrow. Surely when they " talk to the grief of one whom God is wounding," they know not what they do ! Let me be with Christ, in Christ, partaker with Christ in his offering this prayer ; offering it as part of his offering himself Father, forgive them. They know not what they are doing in crucifying me, for they know not what I am doing in being crucified for them. Show them that, 0 Father ! Let the Holy Ghost, the Spirit of grace and of supplications, at my intercession be poured out upon them to show them that ! Then shall they know what they have done ; and looking on me whom they have pierced they shall mourn, and be in bitterness and believe. PARTAKERS OF THE ALTAR. 373 Is this my desire, my longing, for my Lord's enemies and mine 1 Is this the prayer whose spirit breathes through all my treatment of the lost and perishing around me, not only inspiring meek patience and forbearance, but prompting effort, persevering, self-sacrificing effort, that darkness may be dispelled by gospel light and obduracy overcome by gospel love ; the blind eye opened to see the bleeding Lamb of God ; the deaf ear unstopped to hear the tender remon- strance : " Why persecutest thou me ] " and the lips that ignorantly uttered the mad shout, " Crucify him, away with him," taught with mind, and heart, and soul to ask, " Who art thou Lord 1 Lord, what wouldst thou have me to do 1 " 6. Once more. "To-day shalt thou be with me in Paradise !" Yes ! It is but a little while, a brief hour, and all anguish of body, all travail of soul is over ; for me, the cross-bearer ; and also, thou fellow-partaker with me in my bearing it, for thee ; for both of us together. We shall be together in blessedness. i'o-day shalt thou be with me in Paradise. 0 Holy Ghost ! Eternal Spirit ! Let me, by thy gracious working in me, be partaker of the altar, in this blessed assurance of its sovereign efficacy, to overcome the sharpness of death for the crucified one himself, and for me, crucified with him ! for me, as for the dying thief when he got so marvellous an answer to his prayer, " Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom ! " So I, more vile than he, cry to the Lord ! Lost and miserable so I cry to thee ! And what is that I hear thee naming ? Paradise ! sinless, painless, tearless Paradise ! And I am to be with thee there 1 When, 0 Lord 1 Lord, how long ] If thou wilt to-day, 0 Lord ! But anyhow, 0 Lord ! be it to-day, or to-morrow, or years hence, — when the hour comes, let me be found in thee ; partaker of thine altar, crucified with thee to the last ! Prom thy cross let me pass to be with thee. Lord, in Paradise. And as crucified with thee, partaker of thine altar and its 374 PARTAKERS OF THE ALTAR. deepest love, let me be ever ready in thy name, and on thy behalf, to use these blessed words of thine for comfort to every poor perishing soul, moved by thy grace out of the depths to cry. Lord, remember me ! Oh ! let it be mine to be ever assuring every sin-smitten sorrow-laden brother, that thou wilt have him as well as me, to be with thee in Paradise ! Nay him rather than me. For if I who am so great a sinner, of sinners the chief, am to be with thee there, to whom may I not hold out the bright hope of that amazing prayer of thine, " Father I will that they also whom thou hast given me be with me where I am, that they may behold my glory, which thou hast given me ; for thou lovedst me before the foundation of the world ! " One thought more let me throw out in closing. There is this peculiarity about the Christian altar, that while he who offers himself as the sacrifice upon it is one in nature as well as by covenant with the worshippers, he is one also with him who is worshipped. He is therefore himself the object of worship. He is the true God and eternal life. In being partakers of the altar thus viewed, how complete should the process of assimilation or identification become ! For we may know him as no other being who is worshipped, whether real or fictitious, ever can be known. He lays open to us his whole heart. His Spirit gives us an insight into its utmost depths. What can we know of the very best and fairest of the men or women who have been set up for even Christians to adore 1 What of Paul or John 1 What of Mary herself, as compared with what we may know of Jesus ? Adoring any one of them, we may be confirmed to the likeness of a brave hero ; a rapt saint ; an amiable lady and tender mother ; seen only in dim outline, on the canvas of an inventive fancy or devout imagination. But worshipping thee, 0 Lord Jesus, we worship one whose mind, soul, spirit, heart, — whose nature, character, thoughts, and ways, we may know, if only PARTAKEKS OF THE ALTAR. 375 we study thee that we may worship thee intelligently, sympa- thisingly, lovingly. Ah ! how intimately and how familiarly may we know thee ! And with open face beholding as in a glass thy glory, we may be changed into the same image, from glory to glory, by thy Spirit, 0 Lord ! 376 THE PRAYER OF A BROKEN HEART. XXIII. THE PEAYEE OF A BEOKEN HEAET. I. — Confession of Sin. ' ' Have mercy upon me, 0 God, according to thy loving-kindness : according unto tlie multitude of thy tender mercies blot out my transgressions. Wash me throughly from mine iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin. For I acknowledge my transgressions : and my sin is ever before me. Against thee, thee only, have I sinned, and done this evil in thy sight : that thou mightest be justified when thou speakest, and be clear when thou judgest. Behold, I was shapen in iniquity ; and in sin did my mother con- ceive me. Behold, thou desirest truth in the inward parts : and in the hidden part thou shalt make me to know wisdom." — Psalm li. 1-6. The psalm opens with an abrupt and impulsive appeal. It is tlie psalmist's ordinary way ; to begin with an outburst of feeling ; and then go on to explain more leisurely the experi- ence which led up to it. So is it here. His cry is for mercy ; " God be merciful to me a sinner." And it is a cry altogether self-abandoning and self-despairing. It is a simple casting of himself, sinner as he is, upon God. It is upon God, "according to his loving-kindness, according to the multitude of his tender mercies," that he casts himself. The rich, and large, and bountiful grace of God is his only stay. He appeals to it in terms expressive of the most emphatic fulness of contrite conviction and believing confidence : — "Have mercy upon me, 0 God, according to thy loving- CONFESSION OF SIN. 377 kindness ; according unto the multitude of tliy tender mercies blot out my transgressions." Two unequivocal signs of grace follow ; a desire to be thoroughly washed and cleansed, — " Wash me throughly from mine iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin," — and a willingness to appear before God, for that end, without con- cealment and without guile, — " I acknowledge my transgres- sions ; and my sin is ever before me." These are the two features in respect of which the " godly sorrow which worketh repentance to salvation not to be repented of " differs from " the sorrow of the world which worketh death" (2 Cor. vii. 10) ; the desire to be thoroughly cleansed, and the owning of all sin. And they are the dis- tinguishing features of this case ; the case of one deeply, deplorably, fallen in sin ; but yet hopeful. For deep and deplorable as his fall has been, his faith does not fail. It is a case like that of Peter. " I have prayed for thee that thy faith fail not," — is the Master's word to his self- confident disciple, on the eve of the sad denial. If that prayer had not been heard and answered, Peter might have been like Judas, a despairing suicide. Por, when a man's sin really finds him out, it may sink him into insane terror, or lash him into impotent fury, — but never of itself, without a sense of pardoning mercy ; and pardoning mercy in the line of righteousness ; will it move him to salutary tears. It was a strange and blessed coincidence in Peter's case ; — " Immediately, while he yet spake, the cock crew, and the Lord turned and looked upon Peter" (Luke xxii. GO, 61). Blessed, thrice blessed, this concurrence of providence and of grace ! The reminding and accusing sound in providence ; and the melting glance of the divine eye in grace ; meet to- gether. Well, indeed, that it is so in the instance of Peter's 378 THE PRAYER OF A BROKEN HEAKT. fall and recovery ; and in the instance of David's ; and in that of every poor penitent sinner. Some may be at a loss to understand why this should be so very necessary. It will be those only whose sin has not yet found them out. Thou wilt be of another mind ; thou to whom the prophet's fiery word has come home ; " Thou art the man ! " The shock of that stunning and awakening deathblow thou couldst not stand, were it not for thy simple confession, " I have sinned against the Lord," being met with the instant assurance, " The Lord also hath put away thy sin ; thou shalt not die" (2 Samuel xii. 13). On the faith of that assurance, David may be held to pour out his earnest cry in the opening verses of this psalm, — "Have mercy upon me, 0 God, according to thy loving- kindness ; according unto the multitude of thy tender mercies blot out my transgressions, "Wash me throughly from mine iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin." There is no enlargement here ; no detail. It is a bare cry generally for mercy ; the grasping, as it were, of the helping hand ; the simple acceptance of a pardoning voice. It is a casting of himself, just as he is, with no analysis of his case, "on the loving-kindness of God." But it is a thorough and unreserved casting of himself upon that. For he desires to be "throughly washed and cleansed." It is not any slight or superficial healing of the hurt of his soul that he seeks ; but a probing of it to the bottom, with a view to a radical cure. And this desire distinguishes his frame of mind from that of one feeling merely " the sorrow of this world which worketh death," and turns it into the "godly sorrow which worketh repentance unto salvation not to be repented of." It is this desire that prompts the deep spiritual exercise of soul that follows ; which may be traced, I think, under three heads. CONFESSION OF SIN. 379 There is first an indication of the penitent's frame of mind generally as a state of guilelessness and openness hefore God, " I acknowledge my transgressions ; and my sin is ever before me." There is, secondly, a setting forth of the views in which the genuine penitent regards sin, "Against thee, thee only, have I sinned, and done this evil in thy sight ; that thou mightest be justified when thou speakest and be clear when thou judgest." There is, thirdly, the tracing up of the deadly disease to its source ; the tracking back and deep of the guilt and sinfulness to its radical origin, " Behold, I was shapen in iniquity; and in sin did my mother conceive me." The central head is of course the one that bulks pro- minently ; the first preparing the way for the experience described in it ; and the second, pointing to its deepest issue, in its being ultimately run up into its original cause ; the fall of man and the ruin of his nature which that entailed. I. " I acknowledge my transgressions ; and my sin is ever before me." In this exercise, there is, at the outset, an entire abandonment of guile. All reserve is laid aside. All now is laid open and bare. There is no more any con- cealment of my transgressions ; any palliating or cloaking of them ; but a full acknowledgment. I seek no hiding-place for them, or for me. I own them all. And the sin of all of them, my sin, is ever before me. It is before me, as it is before thee. And I would have it to be so. The sin of my transgressions, the deep root of sin which underlies them all, my sin, I would have to be to me what it is to thee ; before me, as before thee, thou searcher of hearts, my Lord and my God ! There is a great transition here from the natural mind in me. It is like passing from a dark den into broad and bright daylight. The light at first startles and appals me! It opens up the sordid squalor of my prison cell. But it is a 380 THE PRAYEK OF A BROKEN HEART. glad relief in the end. I leave the dark den, where I have been trying to lull conscience asleep, and dose myself into a fond security. I come out, erect and open, into the open presence of my God. I stand unsheltered under his pure and holy eye. I consent, I desire, so to stand in his searching sight ; though it blights all my righteousness as filthy rags ; and makes my sin exceeding sinful. It is a great step in the line of true repentance, when, under the pressure of real and genuine godly sorrow, having respect to God more than even to myself, I am enabled and moved to say, "I acknowledge my transgressions; and my sin is ever before me." II. " Against thee, thee only, have I sinned, and done this evil in thy sight; that thou mightest be justified when thou speakest, and be clear when thou judgest." In this "godly sorrow, working repentance unto salvation not to be repented of," there is throughout an eye toward God. For it is only in that way that it can be godly. And the refer- ence to God is threefold — (I.) He is the offended party; "against thee, thee only, have I sinned." It is to thee that I have given offence. (II.) He is the measurer of the offence; he alone sees and estimates its real import and amount ; " I have done this evil in thy sight." Thou alone takest notice of it in all its heinousness. Thou seest it as it really is. It is in thy view of it that I now would see the evil I have done. (HI.) He is the judge; he alone. To him I own my guilt. From him I accept my sentence ; " That thou mightest be justified when thou speakest, and be clear when thou judgest." These three views are closely connected. The first recognises the sovereignty of God. The second adores his holiness. The third acquiesces in his righteous judgment. (I.) God is the Lord, sovereign and supreme. The awakened soul, accordingly, in its deep spiritual exercise. CONFESSION OF SIN. 381 recognises him as such. "Against thee, thee only, have I sinned." All others whom my sin has aifected are lost in the one overwhelming sense of its being committed against thee. I have no eye but for thee ; no thought but of thee. I have offended thee. In that aspect of it, my sin is ever before me. When the light from heaven shines about me, and I am smitten to the ground, the voice I hear in my startled conscience is, "Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me?" Did that voice indicate anything like indifference to Saul's persecution of the saints 1 Nay ! The Lord made it persecution of himself ! It is I whom thou persecutest ! I alone ! It is with me, with me alone, that thou hast to deal. Against me only hast thou sinned ! It is not a question between thee and the victims of thy cruel bigotry. If it were, it might admit of explanation and excuse. History has accommodated in that way the case of many a persecution. And as between man and man, there may be no serious objection to so charitable a construction of actions and of motives. But why persecutest thou me ? — is the Lord's pointed appeal ; carrying all actions and motives, about any such transaction, into the highest court of divine sovereignty. And the stricken soul replies : I have been persecuting thee. " Against thee, thee only, have I sinned." In fact, it is only thus that the sinfulness of my sin, as against my fellows, can be truly realised. If I look upon it merely as a wrong done to my neighbour, I am but too ready to apologise for it. I can explain it away, or offer some sort of restitution and satisfaction. I can palliate my con- duct, or I can make amends for it. But my sin is against thee ! ** Why persecutest thou me ? " Thou takest up into thyself all the wrong and cruelty ; all the insult and offence of my sin. It has hurt, and per- 382 THE PRAYER OF A BROKEN HEART. haps ruined, some weak and loving soul. It has treacherously done to death some trusty and trusting friend. It has brought on all but fatal blight upon my conscience and my heart ; sealing me up for months in a silent and dogged refusal to confess and be forgiven. But thou sinkest all these considerations in the one awful question — " Why per- secutest thou me 1 " Against me, me only, thou hast sinned. The reply to this, accordingly — " Against thee, thee only, have I sinned," indicates no indifference to the injury inflicted on my fellows whom my sin has affected. The Lord's question, — Why persecutest thou me 1 — indicates no such indifference or insensibility on his part. It indicates the very opposite. It comes home to Saul, " breathing out threatenings and slaughter against the Lord's disciples." Their cause is mine. They and I are one. It is I, I only, whom thou persecutest. It is as a sin against me, me only, that thou hast to acknowledge thy " breathing out of threatenings and slaughter" against my disciples. So, accordingly, the smitten persecutor owns his fault. " Against thee, thee only, have I sinned," — is his virtual reply. Not the less, however, on that account, but all the more, he feels the wrong his sin has done to its victims. To the close of his ministry he is always humbled, and often depressed, by the consideration of this reminiscence, — " I persecuted the church of God." (II.) The God against whom I have sinned is the Holy One — the only Holy One. And it is in his sight that I now see this evil has been done. " I have done evil in thy sight." I have done what is evil in thine eyes. The thought of the ungodly man, the thought of the natural mind, is the opposite of this conviction of the awful and inviolable holiness of God, and the exceeding sinfulness of sin in his sight, and as viewed by him. The temptation to say, or to imagine, that "the Lord seeth not, that the CONFESSION OF SIN. 383 Lord regardeth not," is very strong and subtle. The evil done is scarcely at all deliberately noticed or resented among men. Its consequences are extenuated ; its causes apologised for, or explained away. Will not the Lord also look on it with an indulgent eye, and put the best construction on it that is possible 1 The third commandment teaches a different doctrine ; — *' Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain ; for the Lord," — whatever men may say or think, — " the Lord will not hold him guiltless that taketh his name in vain." And so also does that very solemn warning of the apostle, — " Marriage is honourable in all, and the bed undefiled ; but whoremongers and adulterers," however society may treat them, " God will judge " (Heb. xiii. 4). For it is not what my sin is in the sight of man that I have to consider ; but what it is in thy sight, 0 thou Holy One ! — who art of purer eyes than to behold iniquity. My sin is ever before me, all my sin, as " evil done in thy sight." It is set before me, as thou hast set it before thee ; " my secret sin set in the light of thy countenance." "Well may my poor heart be overwhelmed ! Ah ! when I abide the deep and searching scrutiny of that watchful and holy eye of the Lord my God ; that eye which never slumbers, and which cannot look on sin ; that eye ever open and ever pure ; how does my guilty soul, — my unclean and unloving and unlovely spirit, — sink within me ! I read indeed a message of mercy in that eye, — of love, — of love unspeakable, — to sinners, — to me, of all sinners the chief. It is not, however, as others think, and I once thought myself, — it is not that the eye is become blind to my sm. No. It is ever open still, and stdl also ever pure. The very love that beams from it, shining on me through the medium of the cross, in which the Spirit shows me how — " Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord God Almighty," — enhances 384 THE PRAYER OF A BROKEN HEART. the piercing energy of that calm, clear look, which, speaking nought but peace, sends a dagger to my bosom. My Father runs and falls upon my neck, and kisses me. There is not one upbraiding word ; not one angry glance. But the very graciousness of my reception unmans and overawes me. I cannot stand that eye, — so benignant, so venerable, so holy. Father, I have sinned before thee. " I have done evil in thy sight." (III.) He against whom I have sinned, and in whose sight I have done evil, — the sovereign Lord, the Holy One, — is the righteous Judge ; and his righteousness is to be acknowledged ; — "that thou mightest be justified when thou speakest, and be clear when thou judgest." This is a most material element in all true repentance, in all really godly sorrow for sin. The smitten soul, the contrite spirit, must be brought to own, not only the reality, but the righteous- ness, of the condemnation of his sin. It is here, and at this point, very specially, that the gracious work of the Spirit, convincing me of sin, comes out in most marked contrast to the working of the flesh. For nothing can be more opposed to the natural feeling of that carnal mind which is enmity against God and in- subordination to his law, than such an acknowledgment. " Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right 1 " — is the devout ejaculation of Abraham. Alas ! how few are willing and able, in their own case, honestly to echo his words ! Who among you, if you were to be at this moment called to your last account, found guilty, and condemned to ever- lasting punishment, would be prepared to allow your doom to be simply just ? ^ay, to put the question in a far milder form, if you were subjected to the same chastisement which David suffered on account of his sin, — the loss of a darling child, — would you not be tempted secretly to murmur, as if you were harshly, and even unfairly, treated ? CONFESSION OF SIN. 385 "Why," asks the prophet, "should a living uian com- plain, a man for the punishment of his sins 1 " And yet every man is ready to complain, and has much to say against his guilt being visited with any serious penalty at all. It might almost seem, indeed, as if men had thoroughly satisfied themselves that it would be unreasonable and unrighteous on the part of God to judge them ; so securely do they reckon on indulgence and impunity, and so indignantly do they rebel or protest against the slightest infliction of severity, or the faintest threatening of wrath. What wonder if, in such a mood of mind, the rich and free grace of God, — his sovereign mercy, proclaimed in the gospel, — is not adequately appreciated, or duly valued and welcomed 1 For in truth, on this footing, there is really no room for anything like free grace or sovereign mercy at all ; since it is clear that if there would not be perfect justice in my being condemned, there is no grace or mercy, — there can be none, — in my being forgiven. If a boon in any sense at all, it is a boon which I am entitled to expect without anxiety, and will be disposed to accept without gratitude, as a mere matter of course ; — not as a gratuitous favour, but almost as the redress of a wrong. When my sin finds me out, all this confidence or conceit is gone. For it is a vain dream in which men trust when they afi'ect to question or defy the righteous judgment of the Most High. Their own consciences, even partially awakened, more than half attest its hollow vanity. Nor will their unbelief make void the unchanging truth, and justice, and faithful- ness, of God. JSTay rather, as the apostle quotes this text (Eom. iii. 4), — " Let God be true, and every man a liar ; as it is written. That thou mightest be justified in thy sayings, and mightest overcome when thou art judged." Even when men presume to try the sayings of that God who reproves them, and to sit in judgment on his right to accuse them and 2c 386 THE PRAYEK OF A BROKEN HEART. his procedure in condemning them, — they are compelled to justify him and hlame themselves. They feel that he over- comes, and that they cannot contend against him. They may try to make out on their ovpn behalf a case of supposed griev- ance. They may urge pleas to show that they ought to be excused, and that it would be extreme rigour to visit them with any severe doom. But they fail thoroughly to satisfy themselves. They have a secret consciousness that they are resting on slippery ground. They have misgivings already, which, ere long, may become terrible alarms. The eternal truth stands as a rock of adamant against all their sophistries. It haunts them on earth, as it will hold them fast in hell. Their sin has been wilful, and God is not unrighteous in taking vengeance. Oh ! that this conviction may be mine now ; mine in my inmost soul ; that I may accept the punishment of my sin as just ; that I may plead guilty, and receive sentence accord- ingly ! Then may I hope to behold the glory of the free grace and sovereign mercy of my God, emerging and shining forth out of the deep, dark cloud of righteous retribution. For what do I see, as I stand now defenceless, awaiting the stroke of the inevitable bolt of wrath 1 What do I hear 1 See ! I see one fairer than the sons of men, the Son of God himself, baring his bosom as he presents himself to the righteous Father, answering in the judgment for me ! Hear! I hear that awful voice, — " Awake, 0 sword, against my shepherd, against the man that is my fellow, saith the Lord ! " So righteous is the stroke impending over me, — so inexorably just the judicial retribution which I have deserved, — that even in richest and freest mercy, it cannot be averted, or turned away. It must descend and take effect. It must come down. But upon whom ? Not now upon me ; but upon Jesus, my surety ; upon him, crucified for me ; upon me, crucified in him. Surely now, I may see and feel con- CONFESSION OF SIN. 387 demnation to be righteous. " Thou art justified when thou speakest, and clear when thou judgest." Thus, in this penitential exercise of soul, the Psalmist, giving expression to his godly sorrow for sin, makes a full and frank acknowledgment of it ; as no longer hidden in un- consciousness or guile, but ever before him ; and as ever before him in the threefold view of its being (I.) against God ; (II.) in his sight ; and (HI.) deserving his righteous judgment. III. One other element in this godly sorrow, thus work- ing repentance not to be repented of, remains to be noticed. " Behold, I was shapen in iniquity ; and in sin did my mother conceive me." The penitent, in his godly sorrow, thus goes to the very root of his sad case. He does so, under the sense of what follows : — " Behold, thou desirest truth in the inward parts ; and in the hidden part thou hast made me to know wisdom," His experience here is in the line of the experience of Paul (Rom. vii.) — " We knoAV that the law is spiritual." " I delight in the law of God after the inward man." So is it here. " In the hidden part hast thou made me to know wis- dom." And in both instances the same result follows ; a painful sense of the original and inveterate corruption of the flesh ; the innate or inborn depravity of man's very nature, and of the whole of it. " I was born in iniquity, and con- ceived in sin," says the Psalmist. And the apostle bewails his state — "The law is spiritual ; but I am carnal." Thus, it is in connection with a realising sense of the spirituality of God's law, that the Psalmist and the apostle are brought to apprehend the fact of that original sin ; that inheritance by birth and by nature of guilt and corruption, of condemnation and unholiness, — which alone can explain aU the experience of a sinful heart, and a sinful life, — and which 388 THE PKAYER OF A BROKEN HEART. needs ultimately to be met and grappled with, if the heart is to be renewed, and the life is to be reformed. For the knowledge or sense of original sin ; birth-guilt and birth-depravity; can only be reached in this way, through a dealing of the Spirit with us, as to the evil of sin in the life and in the heart. In a doctrinal or systematic point of view, the consideration of original sin and natural corruption may properly come up otherwise. But experimentally, and as regards the actual spiritual history of a saved soul, the order is that of the Psalmist and the apostle. I cannot begin my confession with an acknowledgment of birth-guilt and birth-depravity. That is not first in my feeling and my conviction. It is, first, sin as an overt act that startles and staggers me. Then, secondly, I feel it to be sin in the heart ; and I am led to own it as committed against God's supreme law ; to loathe it as offensive in his holy sight ; to sink under the sentence of its righteous condemnation. I have now to deal with it, in order to overcome and get rid of it. Alas ! I find that to be a harder task than I anticipated. So far from giving way to an eff'ort of the will, or even to the most sin- cere and strenuous strivings of holy resolution ; — which it surely would do, if it were merely a casual error to be corrected, or an acquired habit to be overcome ; — the sin which now so painfully vexes me rather gains strength by the inward struggle, and all the more prevails against me. My indwell- ing corruption, my lust, my spirit of rebelliousness against God, is provoked rather than subdued by the restraint I honestly attempt to put upon it. In spite of repeated pur- poses of obedience, my heart, my carnal mind, is still proving itself more and more to be enmity against God. It is not subject to his law, neither indeed can be. I make the sad discovery experimentally that I was born in iniquity, and conceived in sin. I am shut up to the apostle's all but despairing cry — " Oh, wretched man that I am ; who shall deliver me from the body of this death." CONFESSION OF SIN. 389 This is the last drop in the cup of godly sorrow. And, blessed be God, under the working of the Spirit, it makes it run over into the vast, wide, boundless ocean of rich mercy and redeeming love. " I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord." The last link of the chain of self-righteousness is severed, and the prisoner of hope is set for ever free. " There is now no condemnation to them that are in Christ Jesus ; " who therefore now walk at liberty, " not after the flesh, but after the Spirit." If the case were less desperate than I now feel it to be ; if my sin were an aflPair of the life merely, consisting of evil thoughts, evil words, evil deeds ; I might still hold on, cleaving to the hope of effecting at last, with some help from above, my own deliverance ; cleansing and saving myself. I might still be ever trying some new experiment in the line of self-purification, hoping for some measure of success in the end. Waiting always until I became a better man, worthier, or at all events less unworthy, I might continue to put away from me the gospel call and gift of sovereign grace, and indefinitely postpone compliance with its free invitation. But the experimental discovery which the Spirit makes to me of the impotency of my will to grapple with inborn desire, — of the inveterate corruption of ray fallen nature, — puts an end to all idea of the hurt of my soul being slightly healed, — or indeed healed at all, — by any process of self-justification or self-reform. I am shut up in the Spirit to the only complete and effectual cure. I am fairly driven out of myself to Christ. By him alone, I am at once and thoroughly purged from guilt. In him alone, I am created anew. The old man is hopelessly depraved and dead. I put it ofi" altogether. I die. " I am crucified with Christ." And with him now I live, accepted, quickened, renewed ; raised in and with him to newness of life ; " sin no more having dominion over me ; for I am not under the law but under grace." 390 THE PRA.YEE OF A BROKEN HEART. I close for the present with one practical observation. relative to that exercise of godly sorrow which I have been considering. It must be very manifest that it is not merely a sudden impulse, an abrupt and sharp pang of remorse, coming upon our souls all at once, or, as it were, by fits and starts. It is a prolonged, deliberate, calm consideration of the whole state of the case as between God and us ; the entire question of the disposition of our hearts towards God. No doubt there may be, there must be, more or less, in every instance of spiritual awakening, a keen sense of guilt and danger, prompt- ing prayer, at first perhaps almost inarticulate and incoherent, like the cry of the drowning mariner at sea. There was all that in the experience of David. His guilt, his danger, did indeed flash upon him, in one moment, as a bolt of fire from heaven. Under the prophet's sharp appeal, his conscience, his whole soul, was startled into instantaneous alarm. And his brief confession, " I have sinned against the Lord," in- stantaneously brought relief in the assurance, " The Lord hath put away thy sin." But that did not end the matter. " My sin is ever before me." Notwithstanding the Lord's putting it away — nay, rather, all the more on that very account, my sin is ever before me ; in what sense and to what effect, he has himself been telling us. On the day of Pentecost, the Spirit wrought abruptly and mightily. At a single stroke the people were smitten down. Their sin in crucifying the Lord of glory smote them instan- taneously. And instantaneously also they were moved by the Spirit to look believingly on him whom they had pierced, and find peace. But did that end the matter with them 1 Not if they were like-minded with Paul, who, long after he had obtained mercy, continued to be exercised deeply in his soul about his sin which was ever before him. So let it be with you, 0 poor sinner ! I call upon you. SUPPLICATION FOK FULL CLEANSING. 391 whatever and whoever you are, to see your sin now, to embrace your Saviour now. You have sin enough upon your conscience now. Confess now. Believe now. But I call upon you, believing now, not lightly or hastily to dismiss the matter from your thoughts. Ponder your sin. Consider it in all its bearings. Be seeking ever, as it is ever before you, to get deeper, more searching, more humbling views of its exceeding sinfulness. For it is thus, and only thus, that by God's grace, under the teaching of his Holy Spirit, you will be getting more and more of an insight into God's marvellous grace and love, and proving more and more thoroughly the blessedness of a full, as well as a free, forgive- ness ; of complete reconciliation ; of perfect peace. II. — Supplication for Full Cleansing. "Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean ; wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow. Make me to hear joy and gladness ; that the bones which thou hast broken may rejoice. Hide thy face from my sins, and blot out all mine iniquities. Create in me a clean heart, 0 God ; and renew a right spirit within me. Cast me not away from thy presence ; and take not thy Holy Spirit from me. Restore unto me the joy of thy salvation ; and uphold me with thy free spirit. "— Psalm li. 7-12. This Psahn opens with an abrupt and ejaculatory cry for mercy ; founded upon a general recognition and acknowledg- ment of the Lord's loving-kindness, and the multitude of his tender mercies — " Have mercy upon me, 0 God, according to thy loving-kindness ; according to the multitude of thy tender mercies, blot out my transgressions ; wash me throughly from mine iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin " (vers. 1, 2). There is in the prayer, brief as it is, a thoroughly evangelical element. It breathes a spiritual frame of mind. It asks a 392 THE PEAYEK OF A BROKEN HEART. thorough, blotting out of all transgressions, and a thorough washing and cleansing from all iniquity and all sin. That is not the characteristic of the sorrow of the world, which rather seeks compromise and courts accommodation ; being willing to make acknowledgments, with some real tears perhaps of regret for the past ; but under some secret reserve for the future. It is godly sorrow that prompts this cry. Accordingly, it is followed up with a more detailed and deliberate setting forth of the penitent's case — " For I acknowledge my transgressions ; and my sin is ever before me. Against thee, thee only, have I sinned, and done this evil in thy sight ; that thou mightest be justified when thou speakest, and be clear when thou judgest. Behold, I was shapen in iniquity ; and in sin did my mother conceive me. Behold, thou desirest truth in the inward parts : and in the hidden part thou shalt make me to know wisdom " (vers. 3-6). At the outset there is an entire abandonment of all reserve and all self-deception. There is no longer any guile in his spirit, any desire to cloak or conceal, or palliate his offence ; no more of that sullen and hard " keeping silence " which had been first deadening, and then irritating to very madness, the sensibilities of the soul with reference to God. All is now open between God and the poor smitten sinner. The very worst is laid bare, frankly and freely. Then sin, all sin, is deliberately looked at in all the points of view in which it may be supposed to be regarded by God. Thus, first, it is provocation given to him, the sovereign ruler and Lord. He is the party entitled to take offence, and to resent all injury done to any of his creatures as injury done to him. Again, sin is now seen as God sees it. It is viewed as evil in his sight. The evil of it is estimated not by any human judg- ment but solely by the judgment of God, And finally, the condemnation of sin, its being judicially and penally visited, is recognised, as both inevitable and just. The reality and SUPPLICATION FOE FULL CLEANSING. 393 the rigliteousness of judgment are acknowledged. There is no more rebellion against the sentence of wrath. There is a plea of guilty put in ; and no apology or defence. After these three views of sin, under the hroad light of a guileless and frank confession, there remains the sad discovery I have to make, in my desperate struggle to become what God requires me to be, and what I would fain be ; that the evil in me which I have to grapple with has its root far back and very deep ; not in my will merely, nor even in my heart's desire ; but in my very nature. That is radically corrupt and wrong. There must be a new birth ; a new creation, — " Behold I was shapen in iniquity ; and in sin did my mother conceive me." The particular pleading with God, — in detail, as it were, — in the verses on the consideration of which I now enter, fitly follows the penitent's profound and searching investiga- tion of his own sin. There is an obvious difference between the prayer that precedes, and this which follows, that con- fession. The prayer which goes before is, as I have said, quite vague and general. The prayer which comes after is special, pointed, and precise. "When my sin finds me out ; when the cock crows ; when I hear the voice, " Thou art the man ;" the shock of the sudden discovery to me of my guilt, under the eye of Jesus, " turning and looking on nie," moves me to tears and prayer. It is prayer ; perhaps for the first time truly prayer. It is the abrupt cry, — " Lord, save me ; I perish." Blessed be God, even that is enough. But there comes a closer dealing with my soul ; which I welcome and improve. And I turn from that soul-exercise again to God. I plead with him more in detail about my case. And my detailed jjleading, in renewed prayer, corresponds to the detailed penetential exercise out of which it arises and pro- ceeds. 394 THE PRAYEE OF A BROKEN HEART. The correspondence comes out chiefly in connection with the views of sin indicated in the fourth verse. I, I have to deal with God as the one only sovereign Lord ; against whom, against whom only, I have sinned. Hence the prayer, — " Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean. Wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow. Make me to hear joy and gladness, that the bones which thou hast broken may rejoice " (vers. 7, 8). II. I have to deal with God as the Holy One ; of purer eyes than to behold iniquity. It is in his sight that I have done this evil ; in the sight of him to whom it is so loathsome. Hence the prayer : — " Hide thy face from my sins, and blot out all mine iniquities. Create in me a clean heart, 0 God ; and renew a right spirit within me" (vers. 9, 10). III. I have to deal with God as the Eighteous Judge, who must needs execute righteous judg- ment ; whom I own to be justified in speaking to me and clear in condemning me. Therefore I appeal to him, — " Cast me not away from thy presence ; and take not thy Holy Spirit from me. Eestore unto me the joy of thy salva- tion ; and uphold me with thy free spirit" (vers. 11, 12). I. (Vers. 7, 8.) The sovereignty of God is here acknow- ledged— first, as the only dispenser of grace ; and secondly, as dispensing it in his own way. First, " Purge thou me ; wash thou me." To God alone does the smitten soul apply ; to God, against whom only he has sinned. He alone is the offended party. To him alone I have to answer. He alone can forgive. To him alone, accordingly, I have recourse ; to him directly ; to him alone. " Purge thou me ; wash thou me." I do not go to any priest. If I had sinned merely against the priest, or against such ordinances as the priest has to guard ; then the priest might, on due submission, absolve and bless me. I do not go to any of my fellows whom my sin may have touched. They may receive or reject an SUPPLICATION FOR FULL CLEANSING. 395 apology or a compensation. How they may regard and treat me is now comparatively a secondary and subordinate con- sideration ; serious, indeed, in one view, for I would fain have their forgiveness ; but not the vital consideration. It is against God, God only, that I have sinned. And how God may deal with me is the real question. Nor can I go to my own heart. There once I might have reckoned upon a verdict of acquittal, or at least of apology. Now, however, nothing short of the sentence of God can relieve or content me. But now, if God, — the very God against whom, against whom only, I have sinned, does, in the exercise of his undoubted and irresistible sovereignty, purge me, and wash me, and make my broken bones to hear joy and gladness, — who may gainsay or call in question the gracious act 1 The priest may refuse to absolve me. But if God purge me, I am clean. My fellow-sinners may not acquit or pardon me. But if God wash me, I am whiter than the snow. My own heart may testify only evil of me, and write bitter things against me. But even from that verdict I appeal. If God make me to hear joy and gladness, my broken bones may yet rejoice. There is much comfort in this thought of the sove- reignty of God. But there is terror also. For, let me remind the careless one, it is with God alone that you have to do. Against him, him only, you have sinned ; and with him, him only, you have to reckon. You may satisfy the priest. You may conciliate your brother. You may pacify your own con- science. What will it avail you if your sin as against God still stands out 1 Consent, however, to let God justify you. Then you may utter the bold challenge, " "Who is he that can condemn 1" But, secondly, in order to this, there must be submission to God, not merely as the only dispenser of purging, wash- 396 THE PRAYER OF A BROKEN HEART. ing, gladdening grace ; but as dispensing it in his own way ; " with hyssop," and through " the breaking of the bones." That is not the way nature likes. Naturally I would prefer another way. I do not see the need of the hyssop. I stand out against the breaking of my bones. Hyssop ! That herb was used in connection with the typical sacrifices of the ceremonial ritual. It was the means or instrument of the sprinkling of atoning blood and purify- ing water on those who, being ceremonially unclean, needed to be purged. But it is not the priest's act of outward purg- ing with hyssop dipped in the blood of bulls and of goats that will now avail the sin-stricken soiil. It must be the sprinkling, by a better priest, of better blood, with better hyssop. And the broken bones ! That now also comes in as an element in my new spiritual experience ; my new sense of sin. " I am crucified with Christ." My bones are broken as his body was broken ; not by rude, Eoman soldiers ; but by what alone gave the blow its force and fierceness in his case ; and in my case also, as one with him — sin, in all its guilt and terrible doom. Only by this process of purging with hyssop, and through this experience of the breaking of your bones, can I have cleansing and healing ; a full washing, and a perfect joy. But in that way of submission to his righteous- ness ; his judgment and his grace ; I have a sure standing in the sight of my God. II. (Vers. 9, 10.) God is holy as well as sovereign; and in the light of his awful holiness, I have to consider my sin. First, I would have its offensiveness covered from the sight of the Holy One ; " Hide thy face from my sins, and blot out all mine iniquities." And, secondly, I would have more than that. I would have such a change wrought upon me and in me as may make me, not an object of offence, but an object SUPPUCATION FOR FULL CLEANSING. 397 of complacency, to the Holy One ; " Create in me a clean heart, 0 God, and renew a right spirit within me." First, How exceeding sinful is my sin in his sight ! how loathsome ! how abominable ! Can it be hidden 1 Can it be blotted out 1 It is a bold request. And yet nothing short of that can reassure my soul in the presence, and under the eye of the Holy One ! It was not always so with me. Once I could dream of the recording angel dropping a tear on my wayward or unwary word, and blotting it out for ever. Now, " my sin is ever before me." And it is ever before me as a sin against thee only ; " In thy sight have I done this ill." And yet I cannot say to thee, " Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, 0 Lord !" I cannot call to the mountains and rocks to fa,ll on me and hide me from thy face ! Nor can I clothe myself with any righteousness of my own, any barren fig-leaves in the forfeited garden, to cover my nakedness. But I flee to thee, Lord, to cover me ; to cover me from the searching glance and scrutiny of thine own pure eye. That eye is upon me ; piercing me ; burning me ; that ever open and ever pure eye of thine. Take it away. Lord ! Hide thy face from my sins ! It is a bold petition. Have I warrant to present it? May I ask the all-seeing God to become blind to my sins 1 Yes ! For he has himself made provision for that very thing. He asks me to appear before him as consenting to be one with his own beloved Son. He invites me to present myself as one with his own beloved Son, He sends forth the Spirit of his Son in my heart to secure that I shall appear before him, and present myself before him, as one Avith his own beloved Son. On that footing, and in virtue of that oneness with his own beloved Son, — a oneness of his own creation, by the Spirit of his Son, — I may ask the Father to hide his face from my sins. For it is asking him to hide his face from them as imputed to him with whom I am one ; and as 398 THE PRAYER OF A BROKEN HEART. answered for by him in my stead. Look not on my guilt but on bis righteousness ! In his blood " blot out all my iniquities !" Secondly, The prayer for implanted righteousness comes in here, following upon the prayer for an interest in the benefit of righteousness imputed. And it comes in thus, rightly, seasonably, safely. For, much as the soul whom the Spirit is convincing of sin, may value and welcome the assurance that, without the need of his fulfilling any previous condition, or having any previous grace of repentance or renewal consciously wrought in him, he may at once, just as he is, freely appropriate the righteousness of Christ, and on the ground of it, offer the believing prayer, " Hide thy face from my sins, and blot out all mine iniquities," — still, if he is in earnest, he cannot be content with that. That may indeed sufiice, so far as the question of his right standing with God is concerned. It does most fully suffice, and it alone can suffice, for his being no more condemned, but justified. And without such a rectifying of his position, any renewal of his nature is impossible. But a really earnest soul will prize the first of these benefits chiefly as a step to the second. For he longs, not merely to be on a right footing with God, as the Holy One and the Just ; not merely to have his sins hidden and his iniquities blotted out, through the imputation of atoning blood and justifying righteousness ; but to be walking with God thenceforth, as of one mind, and heart, and character, with him. In that view, I ask the Lord, not merely to shut his eye to what in his sight is evil in me, but to work in me what in his sight may be good. It is doubtless a great matter for me that the evil I have done, the evil that is in me, should be hidden from the face of my God ; that he should regard that in me which must awaken his wrath and his abhorrence, as covered and cancelled. But still I long for there being some- thing good in me ; something on which he may look with SUPPLICATION FOR FULL CLEANSING. 399 complacency as being congenial to his own holiness ; some cleanness of heart ; some Tightness of spirit, towards him. I long for a clean heart ; a heart free from malice and guile ; a heart no longer selfish ; but bent simply and sincerely on loving and serving God. I long for a right spirit ; a " con- stant " spirit ; a spirit steadfast, patient, persevering, in the walk of faith. III. God is not only the sovereign Lord and the Holy One; but the Eighteous Judge, "justified in speaking, clear in condemning." Hence the prayer, deprecating de- served judgment, on the one hand ; asking unmerited but needed favours, on the other hand. First, The judgment deprecated is twofold ; " Cast me not away from thy presence, and take not thy Holy Spirit from me " (ver. 11). There is an acknowledgment here, both of my liability to such sad visitations, and of the perfect justice of my being so visited. 1. Justly mightest thou cast me away from thy presence ; and that for ever. I have forfeited all title to thy favour. I have provoked and incurred thy righteous displeasure. I could almost find it in my heart to say. Leave me to perish as I deserve. Has it come to this, that I who have preached to others should be myself a castaway 1 Be it so. I dare not complain, I will not impugn the sentence. Let me be cast away from thy presence. It is my merited, let it be my inevitable, doom. But no. I can scarcely acquiesce in that. Once, indeed, I might have cared little about that aspect of the punishment of my sin. Nay, for that matter, it was only yesterday that I would rather have thy absence, if that were possible, than thy presence. I would fain have been, — virtually I was, — outside of thy presence. I sought a hiding-place from thee. I longed to be, and thought I was, out of thy sight. But, all thanks to thee and thy 400 THE PEAYER OF A BROKEN HEART. grace, I cannot acquiesce in that banishment now. Thou hast broken my bones. Thou hast made me feel that no- thing short of a new creation can meet my case. Thou hast convinced me that thy favour alone is life. In thy presence alone is fulness of joy. Cast me not away from thy pre- sence ! Thou justly mightest ; but mercifully thou wilt not. For, secondly, thou puttest it into my lieart to pray " Take not thy Holy Spirit from me." That consummation would make my case hopeless indeed. Were I to be so far left to myself in my sin against thee as to become insensible to the hazard of being cast away from thy presence ; and, blinded by passion, or absorbed in pleasure, or, hurried on by lust of gain, were I to stifle conscientious convictions ; and obstinately keep silence from confession to thee ; and thus harden my heart in opposition to gracious movements and gracious relentings ; what can be the issue but the taking of thy Holy Spirit from me ? " My Spirit will not always strive." " Ephraim is joined to idols ; let him alone." That is the last and worst disaster, in the line of God's dealing with me, that I can have to deprecate on this side of the grave. Is it a disaster even now impending over me 1 Is the spirit even now all but ready to depart 1 Is he hovering on the wing 1 Eesisted, grieved, vexed, quenched, is he even now waiting for a moment ] reluctant, hesitating, halting, ere he take his final leave ] Let me fall down and own that that would be but just. And let me be very thankful that I may yet plead for his remaining ; not as of right, but as of grace. 0 my God, take him not from me ! Is he not willing to abide ? True ! Thou who art the righteous judge hast said that thy spirit shall not always strive with men. Lord, I believe this ; help thou mine unbelief. But now, through thy grace, I would give up all resistance to his gracious movements. SUPPLICATION FOR FULL CLEANSING. 401 Seeing him even now raising his wings to fly away, I yet venture to cry ; as against the last, the fatal, step in the line of apostasy ; — " Take not thy Holy Spirit from me." Secondly, From deprecating the worst woe, to realising the highest blessedness, may seem to be an abrupt and strange transition ; and yet the explanation is not far to seek. For the negative prayer, " Cast me not away from thy presence, and take not thy Holy Spirit from me," can be answered only in the line of the positive prayer ; and in fact can only be offered in the line of the positive prayer ; '* Ee- store unto me the joy of thy salvation, and uphold me with thy free spirit." It is a bold prayer. For a sinner so sorely stricken, a backslider with bones so sadly broken, — it is in- deed a very lofty request to make. Not salvation only, but its joy, to be restored. Not the Spirit of God to remain simply ; but to remain as a free spirit to uphold. " Eestore unto me the joy of thy salvation." It is, I repeat, a bold prayer, a very lofty request from one who has been, and is, at the very moment, deprecating, as instantly impending over him, the worst inflictions of eternal doom. For the contrast and coincidence here must be noted as very strict and close. When I pray for the restoration to me of the joy of God's salvation, it is in the very same breath in which I deprecate his casting me away from his presence, and taking his Holy Spirit from me. Simultan- eously with my doing that ; in the very act or exercise of my doing it ; realising the very utmost that wrath can inflict, I ask the very utmost that grace can give. Would it not be enough to put in a plea for arrest of judgment ? Might I not be contented with a hesitating petition that the sentence should not at once be summarily and finally executed ? — Let me not be cast away from the presence of the judge. Let not all remedial measures be given up as hopeless. May there not still be room and time for some such milder treat- 2d 402 THE PRAYER OF A BROKEN HEART, ment of my case as may yet obviate the need of a fatal ter- mination 1 — No ! It is a case in which there can be no such temporising ; it admits of no compromise ; no transition state or process. From condemnation to salvation ; from the ter- ror of the one to the joy of the other ; there is but one step. Hence the concurrence, in one and the same experience, of two opposite elements ; a deep and awful sense on the one hand, of the lowest misery of hell ; my being cast away from God's presence, with his Holy Spirit taken from me ; and on the other hand, some realising of the highest blessedness of heaven ; the restored joy of God's salvation. The two are apprehended together ; and in proportion to one another. The one corresponds to the other. The deeper I go into my guilt and condemnation, as justly exposing me to the doom of being cast away and having God's Holy Spirit taken from me, the higher I rise into the conception of the joy of his salvation, which I must have restored to me. And thus more and more the two elements of this experience blend and become one. I cannot be anything else than a castaway, and spirit-forsaken, unless I have restored to me the joy of God's salvation. And I repeat, the deeper I go into the gulf of the conviction that God might cast me away from his presence and take his Holy Spirit from me ; the higher I seek to rise, to a sense, not of salvation merely, but of its joy. For it is in thy salvation, 0 Lord, that I would rejoice ; not in salvation anyhow and by anyone accomplished ; but in salvation that is thine, and thine only. To thee be all the glory ! To me the joy ! " Eestore unto me the joy of thy salvation." " And uphold me with thy free spirit." It is not so clear and certain here, as it is in the preceding verse, that it is the divine spirit personally that is indicated. But it is at any rate his influence, with its result, that is here recognised. It is a subjective frame of mind, wholly spiritual, that is SUPPLICATION FOR FULL CLEANSING. 403 meant. Uphold me with spiritual freedom. Let me have, to uphold me, a free spirit. That must imply thine own Holy Spirit, 0 Lord, working, or himself becoming, a free spirit in me. " Free." This adjective, as used here, may be very widely and variously interpreted and applied. " A govern- ing or commanding spirit ; " "a spirit wielding power ; " " a spirit having principality ; " "a brisk or alert spirit, a spirit of alacritj'- ; " "a spirit of magnanimity, or greatness of mind ; " "a plentiful effusion of the spirit ; " i.e. the spirit plenteously effused ; " a glorious spirit ; a royal spirit ; a frank spirit." These are some of the approved renderings of this significant epithet " free." Perhaps what I have given last is not the worst ; " frank." For it may be fairly held to cover and comprehend all the rest. A frank spirit is commanding, powerful, princely. It is lively also, and quick. It has in it the essential element of magnanimity. And it flows out in exuberant truthfulness. It breathes a boundless atmosphere, and has a royal port. It may be iden- tified with the charity or love which Paul commends as so manifold and manysided, yet so completely one (1 Cor. xiii.) "With that free Spirit I would be upheld. It is indeed only thus that I can be upheld. In the depths of my self- conviction and self-condemnation ; all but a castaway ; — from whom God's Holy Spirit is on the very point of being taken away ; — I find no security but in restored joy and freedom of spirit. The joy of the Lord alone is my freedom and my strength. There is no need of any intermediate step ; as if I must, through penitence, confession, and absolution, under an ordeal of priestly inquisition, reach some doubtful plat- form, on Avhich the experiment of fall and recovery may be tried over and over again. From the deepest dread of hell I grasp the highest blessedness of heaven. Deprecating, almost in despair, the doom of one cast away from God's presence 404 THE PRAYEK OF A BROKEN HEART. and forsaken by his Holy Spirit, I can pray for nothing short of joy and freedom ; the joy which God's salvation implies and imparts ; freedom of spirit, the freedom which his own Spirit inspires into mine. It is the joy of thy salvation that I would have. It is not, I repeat, the mere joy of deliverance in any way or by any one, from impending disaster and death. That joy, the imagination of mere indulgence and impunity might give. It must be thy salvation if I am to taste any joy in it. The deliverance must come from thee ; from thee, against whom I have sinned. And in another view it must be thy salva- tion. It must be salvation worthy of thee, as well as suited to me ; salvation in full harmony with thyself ; thy name and character ; thy government and law. There can be no joy in it for me, unless it is a salvation that not only secures my safety, but redounds to thy glory. I can rejoicQ in the salvation, only if it is thy salvation ; salvation wrought out by thee alone ; and so wrought out by thee alone as to make it a salvation for thee, as well as for me. For thee, — as thyself needing it 1 Forgive the blasphemous thought ! No ! But for thee, as making thyself one with us who need it ! Thy salvation ! A salvation that meets all thy claims, as well as all our wants ! And freedom of spirit ; the freedom of the Spirit flowing from the restored joy of thy salvation, I ask thee to give. And I ask it not merely that I may be relieved from uncom- fortable bondage, for my ease and quiet repose, but that I may thereby be upheld. A free spirit ! The spirit of freedom ! That, in some sense, all would desire and welcome. But my prayer for it here is only with a view to my being upheld ; not set loose from the obligation of law and duty ; but upheld in the discharge of it. In that line, a free spirit, — freedom of spirit associated with joy, — the joy of a glad emancipation, — is a great upholder. SUPPLICATION FOE FULL CLEANSING. 405 It is so always, in whatever sphere any movement has to be made. In worldly business even ; in political affairs ; to have experienced a sudden and satisfactory deliverance, so as to be set free from embarrassments and have an open and unencumbered path ahead, is a great strengthening of one's hands and nerving of one's brain for future toils and trials. How much more should it be so in the region of grace ; where all is of the Lord ! The salvation for whose restored joy I pray, is his ; the free spirit, the spirit of freedom, is his also. And it is his to sustain and comfort me by these helps. To him I look for making the joy and the freedom effectual to uphold me. Yes ! it is thou who must uphold me. At every stage, in every step, I must rely on thee to uphold me. I cannot reckon on past experiences, or on any strength I may have acquired through them. I have no fund to draw upon, but only thyself, good Lord ! It is thou who must uphold me in the line of joy and freedom. For the joy by which I am to be upheld in freedom must be thine ; thine, not merely as given by thee ; but thine as shared in fellowship with thee ; not merely the joy which thou givest in thy salvation ; but the joy which thou thyself hast in thy salvation. In that joy, and its freedom, I would have communion with thee, 0 Saviour of sinners. It is a high aspiration ; — to aim at such sympathy and communion with the Lord in the joy he has himself in his own salvation ! It lifts me above the outer movements and results of his action, and places me alongside of him, in the chamber within, where he sits as planning, superintending, and con- summating. The whole method of delivery from evil and restoration to good is viewed from his stand-point. And viewed in that light it is seen and felt to be joyous and free : a source of gladness and liberty. To such elevation I seek to rise ; as not only a lofty object of ambition, but my best and only security for being upheld. 406 THE PRAYER OF A BROKEN HEART. Yes, and so upheld as to be safe from the risk of being cast away from his presence, and having his Holy Spirit taken away ! For that risk I keep always steadily in view ; not as marring my joy and freedom, but as chastening the joy of his salvation with a salutary remembrance of my sin against him : and keeping my freedom of spirit always under the rule of law, the law of love. I walk at liberty, having respect to all his commandments. Walking in that liberty, strong in that joy, I will not consent to be brought under the power of anything within or without that might subject me again to bondage. I will stand fast in the liberty with which Christ makes me free. Yes ! Blessed Jesus, my Lord and my God ! I cleave to thee ! I would lean on thy bosom and look up to thee ; into that open eye of thine. I have sinned against thee. I have pierced thee. Thee only have I pierced. For it is thou alone who hast borne the deadly stroke of my guilt. And how vile am I in thy pure sight ; unclean ; unholy. And how am I condemned in thy judgment. But from thy very side which I have pierced I see blood and water flowing ; blood of infinitely atoning virtue ; water of thoroughly cleansing and sanctifying power. It is the stream of thine own redeeming blood and thine own water of regeneration. Let it be applied to me, good Lord ! There is hyssop at hand ; the hyssop of thy most gracious promises ; warranting the fullest and freest appropriation. Purge thou me with that hyssop, and I shall be clean. I have pierced thee ! Thou art pierced for me 1 Let me not only see, but feel, thy wounds. Let my bones be broken. Not other- wise would I now expect, or even welcome, any joy or gladness. It must not, it cannot, come through mere substi- tution on thy part, and mere immunity or impunity on my part. "No. I accept the breaking of my bones. I consent to be crucified with thee. And only as one with thee in thy cross do I venture to look into thy face at thy table. SUPPLICATION FOR FULL CLEANSING. 407 And not even thus, good Lord ! tliou blessed Jesus ! the holy one of God ! I dare not look into thy face, conscious as I am of uncleanness as well as guilt in thy sight ! But thou thyself coverest my uncleanness, even as thou answerest for my guilt. Now, therefore, leaning on thy breast at the supper, I venture to converse with thee, as to all that communion with thee on my part for which thy communion with me opens up the way ! The joy of thy salvation I long to share. May I dare to aspire to a share in that joy as thine own joy in thine own salvation 1 Thou are permitting me to sit beside thee as thou puttest into my hands the symbols of that salva- tion. May I venture to see a smile of joy on thy face 1 — and to share in that joyous smile ? May I have the joy of this salvation as thy salvation? May I rejoice in it not merely as designed and suited for me, but as meant for thee, and wrought out by thee ; — not from my point of view, but from thine ; — not merely as good for me, but also and chiefly as glorifying to thee. Oh ! that it may be so. Lord Jesus ! Oh ! that I may thus have given or restored to me the joy of thy salvation ! The joy of being one with thee in it ! Not merely one with thee, as reaping the fruit and getting the benefit of it ; but one with thee in its whole essence and spirit ; one with thee through participation with thee in the entire process and self- crucifying love of its acceptance and its accomplishment ! Then I may hope to be one with thee in thy liberty of spirit ; in thy power and right to defy all tlie principalities of earth and hell ; and thine unreserved and unembarrassed submission of thyself to the Father ; whose service, from one truly his Son as thou art, is indeed perfect freedom ! 408 THE PEAYEE OF A BEOKEN HEAET. III. — Its Purpose of Eeparation. ' ' Then will I teach transgressors thy ways ; and sinners shall be con- verted unto thee. Deliver me from blood-guiltiness, 0 God, thou God of my salvation ; and my tongue shall sing aloud of thy righteousness. 0 Lord, open thou my lips ; and my mouth shall show forth thy praise." — Psalm li. 13-15. The conclusion of the Psalmist's inward penitential exer- cise of soul brings forward its connection with the outer world. He has been confessing his sin, without reserve or guile. He has been seeking a thorough cure for a deep dis- ease. He has been considering his case in all the views of it which a spiritually awakened conscience can suggest. His sin is ever before him ; as now really painful and offensive to himself. It is seen in the light of the glory of God ; his glory as^Jirsf, the sovereign Lord ; secondly/, the Holy One ; and thirdly, the righteous Judge. Sin is rebellion against his sovereignty. It is loathsome in his sight. It is righte- ously judged and condemned. Nor is this aU. In its source and essence, this sin is original ; birth-born ; natural ; inhe- rent in the fallen constitution which he inherits. In all these views of it, he is enabled to pray for deliverance. He asks to be purged, cleansed, quickened. And now, with the restored joy of God's salvation, giving me the confidence of being upheld by a free spirit, I ask if anything can be done by me ; if anything lies before me ; that may prove my penitence for the past, and occupy niy recovered strength of joy and Hberty for service now ? My own case might well engross, and must engross, my attention when I first awaken to a sense of what it really is ; a case all but desperate ; critical for weal or woe ; and that for ever. But having spread out my case before God, and accepted his manner of dealing with it, I may now look more abroad. I ITS PURPOSE OF REPARATION. 409 have leisure now to think, in my new character, of the claims of my fellow-men (vers. 13-15); and of my God (vers. 16, 17); and of his church (vers. 18, 19). To the first of these particulars I confine this discourse. I think of my fellow-sinners ; my companions in crime and guUt. I would fain make some suitable amends to them. And what can be more appropriate in that view than the resolution, with reference to them, and all my fellow-men, — " I will teach transgressors thy ways, and sinners shall be converted to thee" (ver. 13). This is, and should be, — it must be, — the immediate and instinctive purpose of one who has himself known the ways of God, so as to be himself converted to him. Can any one who has really been thus taught and thus changed refrain from the cry, — " Come and hear, all ye that fear God, and I will declare what he hath done for my soul " 1 Can he even be content with such audience, meet and few? Will he not, moved by his own experience, feel his heart burn within him for souls not fear- ing God; souls all but perishing? Have I been snatched as a brand from the burning'? And can I resist the imperative impulse to sound a general alarm? Have I discovered the hidden treasure; gained the pearl of great price? Can I fail to utter the ejaculation given forth by the philosopher of old, on the solution of his problem, the discovery of his secret, " I have found it, I have found it " ? That is the force of the connecting particle here, " Then." It is not a condition or qualification of the promise or pro- fession. It is not meant to make its fulfilment contingent on the previous prayers being consciously answered. It simply implies these two things — first, that it is only such experience of the Lord's gracious dealing with me personally, that can make it possible for me to enter upon any course of dealing, in like manner, personally, with any of my fellow- creatures and fellow-sinners around me ; and secondly, that if 410 THE PRAYER OF A BROKEN HEART. I have experienced such personal deahng with me on the part of God, I cannot but try to bring it to bear on all within my reach. But I am still hampered and straitened. Two con- siderations, or consciousnesses, embarrass me, and disconcert me. The first is that I am blood-guilty. How can I speak of God's righteousness'? The second is that my lips are closed. How can I show forth God's praise 1 Part First. As regards the first of these two causes of embarrassment, I am encouraged to pray for a full and complete remedy, " Deliver me from blood-guiltiness, 0 God, thou God of my salvation." This is the prayer of David. He had added murder to lust. And now, when he thought of becoming a teacher of others, by word or deed, by precept or example, a teacher of righteousness, the recollection of the blood which he had caused to flow might well unnerve and unhinge his soul. The cutting, sarcastic taunt, "Is Saul among the prophets'?" was as nothing in comparison with the hollow whisper that might ring like a death-knell in David's ear, as, rising from their bloody graves, the victims of his cold cruelty, his martyred friend, his butchered host, miglit seem to point the slow finger of scorn, — as each echoed the note of wonder and amazement, — Our murderer among the preachers! What a vision to haunt him ! what a voice to paralyse him, when- ever he undertakes or attempts to speak of holy things, or to lead a holy life, to live as a holy man ! How can he meet the very glance of the eyes of those whose hearts he would fain win to God 1 Possibly they may not be aware of all his guilt and all its aggravations. They may have been ignorant of the full ex- tent of their Monarch's criminality. And when he comes ITS PURPOSE OF REPARATION. 411 before them as a teacher and pattern of righteousness, there may be none among them disposed or ready to cast in his teeth so foul a charge as blood-guiltiness. " Thou didst it secretly," is Nathan's word. Eut his own heart condemns and convicts him. And that is enough to disconcert him. For it is not the fear of man's reproach that unnerves him, when he would be a preacher of righteousness ; it is the mis- giving of his own guilty conscience. Paul (Acts xxii. 18-21) felt and owned the first of these difficulties, when he ven- tured to plead with Christ, whom " he saw saying unto him ; make haste and get thee quickly out of Jerusalem; for they will not receive thy testimony concerning me." With some natural reluctance, perhaps, he acquiesces. True, Lord ! " They know that I imprisoned and beat in every synagogue them that believed on thee. And when the blood of thy martyr Stejihen was shed, 1 also was standing by, and con- senting to his death." Like David, Paul felt that the guilt of blood, the blood of saints, was upon him ; and that this might well disqualify him for bearing testimony for Christ ; " teaching transgressors God's ways ; that sinners might be converted to him." In so far as the disqualification consisted in the prejudice which his former manner of life miglit raise against the new witness for the truth, suddenly improvised into a preacher of righteousness ; — it is got over, in the case of Paul, by his large and wide mission, " He said to me, Depart, for I will sei^d thee far hence unto the Gentiles." And in David's case, the risk may be held to have been partially obviated by the prestige of his royal station and surroundings, and by his general character of godliness. But that is not the worst view of the disqualification. That is not what the repent- ing soul, longing to do good, finds it most difficult to get over. It is not the rumour or reputation of blood-guiltiness that the Psalmist feels to be his chief hindrance. It is the blood- 412 THE PRAYER OF A BROKEN HEART. guiltiness itself that troubles him. It is his own sense of blood-guiltiness that paralyses him. Even if his criminality is known to himself alone, and to God, — if all around him have been giving him credit for unblemished sanctity, or at least have been ascribing to him far less blame than he de- served ; still, his own consciousness of the wrong which he has been doing, is enough to make his trumpet give a very vacillating and uncertain sound. Having the damning stain of blood-guiltiness upon his conscience, how can he teach transgressors God's ways, so that sinners may be converted unto him 1 It is here and thus that the feeling of my offence, as com- mitted against my fellow-men, comes in chiefly to distress me. In my first awakening, I dwell on the thought of my offence as being committed against God, against God only. He alone is the person entitled to deal with it ; to resent it as an affront ; to loathe it as offensive, and me on account of it ; to judge and condemn me for its guilt. Then again, he alone can be asked to dispose of it ; so as, — first, to condone it; secondly, to cancel and cover it, clothing me with his own righteousness, and making me a new creature ; and thirdly, to put me on a right footing, as not cast away from his pre- sence, but having his Holy Spirit. Thus far I am brought into contact with God alone. All else is ignored ; all else, excepting only my relation to him, and my position in his sight. I have to transact with him alone ; to be humbled, and to be reconciled. It is when I come to feel the impulse prompting me to go and tell my brethren what great things the Lord has done for me, that I am abruptly and sternly arrested by the withering and chilling thought of the offence I have given, the wrong I have done, to my generation. It is thus that I am made to realise the evil of my sin as affect- ing my power to do good. For who am I that I should teach transgressors God's ITS PURPOSE OF EEPAEATION^. 413 ways ] I ! A transgressor like them ; a transgressor more than most, than all, than the very worst, of them ! An adulterer ; a murderer ! What right have I to occupy high ground, and set myself up as their censor and reprover, or even as their teacher and example ] I feel the inconsistency, the utter incongruity. I seem always to hear an upbraiding voice, to see a sarcastic taunting eye. I quail under it. I am tempted to be dumb ; to suppress remonstrance, and con- sent to compromise. For it looks like a sort of impious absurdity that such a one as I should affect to be better than my neighbours ; to teach them God's ways, — and seek their conversion to him, — with their blood on my head ! For that is the condition in which, even after forgiveness and renewal, a repenting sinner may feel himself to be. Even if I have met and been reconciled to my God, the sense of blood-guiltiness may make me afraid, or ashamed, to face my brethren. And that, too, although neither they, nor the world, can bring up against me any overt act. In my secret conscience there is blood upon me. And that is enough. For I call to mind that terrible definition of blood- guiltiness : " Whosoever hateth his brother is a murderer " (1 John iii. 15). Whosoever hateth his brother ; loveth him not as a brother ; loveth not his neighbour, every man, with a brotherly love ; a love that would fain have him as a brother, and treats him accordingly as a brother ; a love which has a true regard to his soul as well as his body, his spiritual interests as well as his outward estate : whosoever does not thus love every man as his brother ; whosoever is angry with his brother without a cause ; whosoever calls his brother Raca, or a fool, uses him as a Avorthless, perishable thing ; not immortal, not redeemed ; whosoever so acts, or so feels, is a murderer ! Is not that my easel Have I not thus wronged my 414 THE PRAYER OF A BROKEN HEART. neighbour ; ministered to his sin ; perhaps taken advantage of it 1 Have I not dealt with him as an alien rather than a brother ; spoken to him, or acted toward him, in an un- brotherly way ; neglecting brotherly offices on his behalf 1 Have I not had intercourse with him on merely worldly con- siderations, without regard to his having, like myself, a Judge to call him to account, and a Eedeemer able and willing to save 1 And is not all that blood-guiltiness ? How then, I may well ask, with what face am I to meet transgressors and sinners, so as to teach them thy ways, 0 Lord 1 I, who have blood, the blood of souls, upon my con- science t Guilty of such blood, how may I hold up my head, or open my mouth to speak for thee, 0 Lord 1 To speak for thee, it may be, to the very souls of whose blood I have been guilty 1 It is a terrible thought ; fitted to daunt and disconcert the boldest ! Still, brother, let us not shrink from our duty. For, first, even from blood-guiltiness our God delivers us. He is " the God of our salvation." The salvation which but now we thought of as his, when our prayer was, " Eestore unto us the joy of thy salvation," we now claim as ours. And we make it the ground of our appeal to him for " de- liverance from blood-guiltiness." It is " thy salvation." I desire to look at it as such ; to see it from thy point of view ; and so to enter into thy joy, in its full accomplishment, to thy entire satisfaction. But when brought face to face with my blood-guiltiness, I lay hold of it as " my salvation." I look at it from my point of view. I apprehend it as suitable to me ; as meant for me ; meant to be appropriated by me as mine. It is the salvation wrought out by the shedding of blood ; in the shedding of which I have a part ; for which I feel as if I alone were responsible. That blood-guiltiness ; my being thus the crucifier of the ITS PURPOSE OF REPARATION. 415 Lord of Gloiy ; I confess and own. I am crucified with him. All the sin of the blood-guilty crime on Calvary, I take to myself. The blood-guiltiness of it all is now mine ; accepted by me as mine. And thus accepted, it is " my sal- vation." To the " God of my salvation ; " mine through such acknowledged blood-guiltiness ; I appeal for deliverance from all other blood-guiltiness. I face the very men whose blood I have shed ; saved by the blood of him whom I have pierced. Yes ; I go among my fellows now as having my deepest blood-guiltiness answered and atoned for ; even my concern in the shedding of the blood of God's dear Son. God is the God of my salvation. And saved by him, I can stand be- fore my brethren. If he justifies, who can condemn 1 I may go forth among men with unabashed front, and speak with unfaltering tongue. Whatever they might allege against me, even to the extent of being guilty of their blood, — in whatever sense, literal or spiritual, — is answered for, cancelled, and disposed of, through a higher blood-shedding, Avhich washes all that guilt away. I appear before them on a new footing, — in a new character ; delivered from blood- guiltiness ; rejoicing in God's salvation as mine ; rejoicing in him as the God of my salvation ! Old things are passed away. The sense of my blood-guiltiness need embarrass me no more ; for " God is my strength and my song, he also is become my salvation." Then, secondly, as another reason for not shrinking from this duty, consider what it really is. It is to " sing aloud of God's righteousness." It is not your own righteousness that you have to com- mend to transgressors, but the righteousness of God. It is that very righteousness of God, through faith in which yon yourself are delivered from blood-guiltiness, and God becomes to you the God of your salvation. Your complete justifica- 416 THE PRAYER OF A BROKEN HEART. tion in the sight of God, — the perfect righteousness in virtue of which you are justified, — with no concession of his supreme authority, his sovereignty and law, hut, on the con- trary, with the fullest vindication of all his just and holy claims, — places you on a high ground of advantage. You occupy, I repeat, a new position. And as it is a position implying no compromise on God's part in his dealing with you, so also it is a position requiring no compromise on your part in your dealing with other men. You may " sing aloud of God's righteousness." You are no longer constrained to feel as if you had given them a handle against you ; as if somehow you stood at their mercy, and could not venture to take too high a tone, or strike too strong a note. You might feel this if it were of your own righteous- ness that you were to testify, as that in which you stood yourself. But plant your foot on the righteousness of God, the God of your salvation ; the saving righteousness which he has himself provided, in the person and work of his own beloved Son. Take your firm ground as being right- eously accepted in the beloved. Then lay all hesitancy and false shame aside. Let no remembrance of former sin, nor any consciousness of unworthiness now, hamper or hinder you. Through grace you are emboldened and enabled to appear erect and fearless before God. The same grace will make you bold in the presence of men. Then fear not. Shun not to declare to all men the whole counsel of God. So in the end yours may be the satisfaction of saying humbly, with the greatest of persecutors, " P take you to record, I am pure from the blood of all." Part Second. But how may I sing aloud of God's righteousness 1 My lips are closed. This is a second source of embarrassment. Besides the sense of past blood-guiltiness, and even when ITS PURPOSE OF REPARATION. 417 that is got over, there remains the feeling that I really know not what to say. Fain would I teach transgressors God's ways, and be instrumeDtal, by voice and walk, in converting sinners to him. But how to set about the good work is what perplexes me. It seems so difficult and delicate an affair. There are so many considerations of prudence and propriety to be taken into account ; so many snares into which I may fall, or mistakes which I may commit ; so much risk of doing more harm than good ; — I am so sensitively alive to the charge of ostentation and hypocrisy, or the appearance of hypocrisy, and see so clearly how worldly friends may be offended by injudicious zeal and the unreasonable intrusion of spiritual topics ; I have such an impression of the sacred- ness of the ark of God, and such a shrinking dread of handling it, with the best intentions, unworthily or unwisely ; — that I am rather disposed to keep silence, and leave it to more ad- vanced Christians, experienced veterans, to vindicate God's ways, and rebuke men's sins, and win their souls ! Who has not been haunted with such scruples as these 1 Who would judge harshly the hesitation which they cause ? Who would not rather sympathise with it ? Who would not seek to have it overcome in himself, — and in some dear friend whose needless fear and trembling his own hesitation may be aggravating ? For alas ! how much guilt is contracted, how much evil is done, how much good left undone, how much sin suffered in a brother, how many souls allowed to go on in the broad Avaj', through professing Christians, and even true believers, yield- ing to such timid reasoning ! Ah ! what urgent need is there of the prayer, " Open thou my lips " ] For if the lips be once opened, " the mouth will show forth God's praise." It is the first step that really costs effort. If a beginning is made, all is gained. If only, by the Spirit given in an- 2e 418 THE PKAYER OF A BROKEN HEART. swer to that prayer of faith, you get over the shyness, the awkwardness, of a first trial, or of two, — if only you break the ice, and force yourself to let your lips be unsealed, — you will soon find that there really are no such formidable diffi- culties in the way as you were apt to anticipate ; that it is not so hard a task after all to show forth God's praise. For may you not, in this connection, appropriate the command and promise of our Lord himself ; — " Take no thought how or what ye shall speak ; for it shall be given you in that same hour what ye shall speak ; for it is not you that speak, but the Spirit of your Father which speaketh in you " (Matt. X. 19), You may confidently plead this promise, not only when you shall be brought before governors and kings for Christ's sake, to testify of him ; but wherever you are ; before what- ever audience you are brought ; in whatever circumstances and in whatever company you find yourself ; if only you are honestly and in good faith there, for Christ's sake to testify of him. Your Father, who is also his Father, will not Avithhold or take away from you his Spirit. The Spirit of the Father will be in you when you speak of and for the Son. He is in you as the spirit of supplications, making intercession for you inwardly with those groanings of yours which you cannot utter, but which he turns into prayers. And he is in you, the same Spirit of your Father, Avitnessing in and through and with you for Christ ; nerving your stam- mering tongue, and " giving you a mouth and wisdom which all your adversaries shall not be able to gainsay or resist." Settle it therefore in yoiir hearts not to " meditate before- hand what ye shall answer ; what ye shall say." Take no thought, be not anxious or concerned, about how or what you shall speak. Plead the Lord's promise when you pray to him, " Open thou my lips." Proceed upon the faith of its being fulfilled in testifying for him. You may cast all this ITS PURPOSE OF EEPARATION. 419 care upon the Lord. He will care for you. The cause you advocate is his. The end you seek is his glory. He will not, — for his own name's sake he will not, — leave you to yourself, or suffer you to be at a loss. Out of the abundance of the heart in which his spirit is moving, the mouth will speak freely. Let but the lips be opened. Speak out, act out, frankly, honestly, manfully, what is, so to say, on the tip of your tongue. Obey the promptings, the suggestions, the impulses, of the Spirit of your Father speaking in you. " Open thou my lips," 0 my Father ! For again I say that is what you really and chiefly need ; not that you should be enabled to speak wisely, but that you should be moved to speak at all ; to say sometliing, to say anything, for Christ to souls. You may conjure up reasons for caution. You may affect to be afraid of committing yourself, or committing the good cause, by professing more than you can hope to realise. You may have real anxiety lest your shortcomings and inconsisten- cies, if you say too much, or aim too high, should discredit your sincerity and give occasion of reproach against that worthy name by which you are called. But beware of un- belief; of prayerless unbelief. Let none of these sources of apprehension influence you. The Lord will charge himself with the care of them aU. Trust him. Pray in faith, " Open thou my lips." 0 Lord, " Open thou my lips ! " But having so prayed in faith, be very sure that, with singleness of eye, you pay your vow, and fulfil your resolu- tion j — "My mouth shall show forth thy praise." For there is a subtle and dangerous snare here. One of the first fruits of the opening of my lips may be such a sense of new power, new facility, new enlargement, new success, in showing forth God's praise, as may be dan- gerous to the cultivation of a meek and quiet spirit ; apt to 420 TPIE PRAYER OF A BROKEN HEART. puff me up ; and let in doubtful motives and suggest doubt- ful methods. After a first, or second, or twelfth experiment, perhaps, I find myself inspired with fresh ability and energy ; able to speak out on religious matters with a fluency, and force, and fervour, not hitherto experienced. I have less fear of the face of man, and less regard for adverse human criti- cism or opinion. My mouth sings aloud ; showing forth God's praise. But let me beware ! The tendency to have regard to my own credit and character ; my reputation and influence is very strong. Is it really God's praise that, with the very lips which he has opened, I desire to show forth, and am, with his help, showing forth ] May I not be tempted to use, almost unconsciously, my new-born, neAv-implanted gift of free and fearless speech on sacred subjects, in a spirit of ostentation ; or of rude intolerance ; or of unseemly defiance of customary etiquette ? By all means beware of any such unnecessary insults to society. But be not too much afraid of the imputation of them. I do not ask you to go against your nature in your way of teaching transgressors God's ways, and showing forth his praise. On the contrary, your whole power and influence must depend on its being your natural way ; whatever it may be. There are differences of individual temperament, as there are differences of national temperament, in the department of religious experience and its expression. Our Scottish type of personal Christianity, for instance, may be charged with a certain costiveness, and secretive- ness, unfavourable to such a flow of genial confidence and mutual brotherly unbosoming, as is not uncommon among Christians in w^armer climes, and under warmer influences. One would not like to see our national habit of reverential reserve rudely invaded ; nor the freer outcome of sentiment and sensibility in other developments of evangelical experi- ITS PURPOSE OF REPARATION. 421 ence elsewhere coldly quenched. Let both work together, helping one another, if only the joint " mouth is showing forth the praise of God." So also, as regards individual believers. The opening of the lips must be the same for aU and in all. But the man- ner of the mouth's showing forth God's praise may be indefinitely varied. Constitution and circumstances, temper, time, talents, opportunities ; all must be taken into the reck- oning. No martinet or formal rule can be laid down. None may prescribe to his brother. None may judge his brother. Every one acts for himself. Only let every one, — all the more for this discretionary allowance, — be sure that his eye is single ; that when he offers the prayer, " Open thou my lips," and awaits the reply, it is really that " his mouth may show forth God's praise." Let him be purged of malice and partial counsel. Let him be conscious of no personal considerations creeping in upon him. Then, let him be " strong in faith, giving glory to God." Once more, therefore, in closing, let me return to the prayer, " Open thou my lips." Let me beseech you again and again so to pray. And do as you pray. Act according to your prayer, and in terms of your prayer. For it is a precept as weU as a prayer. You must take it to be so if you believe that God hears and answers it. Then open ye your own lips ; at once ; now ; this very day. Wait not for any sign, or any impulse ; any favourable opportunity ; any pressing call. Begin now. Let some friend or neighbour hear you, ere the sun goes down, speak- ing a word in season ; a word of admonition ; a word of comfort ; telling something of what the Lord is doing for your soul, and of his willingness to do the same for theirs. I call upon you thus to prove the earnestness of your repent- ance, and the strength of your resolution. 422 THE PRAYER OF A BROKEN HEART. And turning now to those here who must be conscious of their being still transgressors, still sinners ; still unpardoned and unrenewed ; impenitent and unbelieving. Fain would I speak to you ; not authoritatively, from the elevation of this chair ; but aflfectionately, from the deep self-abasement of my own experience. Fain would I appeal to you, as myself a transgressor, a sinner ; scarcely saved, by richest, freest grace ; by special miracle of mercy, as it were. Fain would I thus, as not above you, but among you, one of yourselves, tell you of God's ways ; his ways of dealing with me ; and also, dear friends, Avith you ; his bearing long with us ; his waiting long for us ; his plying us with all faithful warnings, and tender expostulations, and loving calls ; his graciously receiv- ing us, his not upbraiding us ; his casting all our sins behind his back ; his giving us his own blessed Spirit. Beloved brethren, hear his own voice, — " Turn ye, turn ye, why will ye die." IV. — Its Presext Sacrifice and Final Prospect. "For thou desirest iiot sacrifice, else would I give it ; thou delightest not in burnt-offering. The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit ; a broken and a contrite heart, 0 God, thou wilt not despise. Do good in thy good pleasure unto Zion : build thou the walls of Jerusalem. Then shalt thou be pleased with the sacrifices of righteousness, with burnt-offering, and whole burnt-offering : then shall they offer bullocks upon thine altar." — Psalm li. 16-19. The first impulse of the restored penitent, when the case as between him and his God is settled, is to go forth from his closet, the secret place of his God, — where the covenant of peace through atoning blood has been ratified as a personal transaction, — and tell what great thirigs the Lord has done. That should and must be your immediate instinct. Many ITS PKESENT SACRIFICE AND FINAL PROSPECT. 423 motives may prompt such action. You long to give vent to your emotions ; and it is a relief to you to impart to others your sorrows and your joys ; your late dismal fears, and your present blessed hopes. There is pleasure also in the com- munication of good tidings. And surely there is an earnest and eager desire to save the lost. For you cannot, if you are yourselves taken from the horrible pit, look with indifier- ence on the state of your companions who are still sinking unconsciously in its miry clay. But over and above all these, there is a paramount con- sideration. It is the conviction that you owe it to the " God of your salvation," to " show forth his praise." This last consideration suggests the question, whether you may not, in some more direct way, testify your gratitude. True, you are assured that, while he has been resenting the wrong done to your fellow-men as an offence against himself, he is also willing, on the same principle, to accept what you do in the way of reparation ; on the principle, I mean, of his final award in the day of judgment, — " Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me." Still, the longing inquiry of love returns. Can I do nothing in a less circuitous way to please God or to praise God 1 Part First. The first answer is generally, that there are " sacrifices of God ;" sacrifices directly offered to him ; and accepted by him. " Thou desirest not sacrifice, else would I give it ; thou delightest not in burnt-offering." Sacrifice and burnt-offering of an expiatory kind is indeed superseded ; desired, delighted in ; never chiefly ; now not at all. Still there are sacrifices of God- These are sacrifices of thanksgiving and praise ; not sacrifices presented with a view to atonement and recon- ciliation ; but sacrifices proceeding on the faith and in the 424: THE PKAYER OF A BEOKEX HEART, assurance of atonement already accomplished, and reconciKa- tion now secured. God has such sacrifices. They are distinctively "his sacrifices." In one view they are manifold. Some of them are described, especially in the Kew Testament. I point to two passages. There is, in the first place, the fundamental passage, — " I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ve present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service " (Eom. xii. 1). The material of the sacrifice is here said to be your bodies ; your- selves, as presented to God ; living and holy ; living in Christ's life, holy as partaking of Christ's holiness ; and therefore acceptable unto God, and, on your part, a reasonable service. There is, secondly, the outcome, or working out of that fundamental thought, — " By him, therefore, let us offer the sacrifice of praise to God continually ; that is, the fruit of our lips, giving thanks to his name ; but to do good and to com- municate forget not : for with such sacrifices God is well pleased" (Hebrews xiii. 15, 16). On the footing, and in the faith, of Christ's one great atoning sacrifice, by which he " sanctified the people, sufi'ering without the gate," we are to offer continually the sacrifice of praise ; consisting, first, of the fruit of our lips, giving thanks to his name ; teaching transgressors his ways, and with our mouths showing forth his praise ; and, secondly, of doing good and communicating ; for with such sacrifices God is well pleased. Similar sacrifices of thanksgiving are recognised in the Old Testament ; as, for instance, in the fiftieth Psalm ; " pay- ing our vows to the Lord ; and caUing upon him in the time of trouble" (vers. 14, 15). Here, all these sacrifices of God are reduced to one. '• The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit." ITS PRESENT SACRIFICE AND FINAL TROSrECT. 425 To the soul coming out of the dark and deep despair of bloodguiUiness into the light of God's salvation ; but yet still having his sin ever before him ; this merging of the plural in the singular is indeed most welcome ; — " The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit ; a broken and a contrite heart, 0 Lord, thou wilt not despise." For indeed what else has he to offer ] He feels that it is for him, and in his circumstances, the one only sacrifice. Let us look at it accordingly, in the light of the experience with which it stands connected. A broken spirit ! A broken and a contrite heart ! I am at once carried back to the prayer, that " the bones which God hath broken may rejoice " (ver. 8). It is broken bones there. It is a broken spirit, — a broken and a contrite heart, — here. The meaning I take to be the same. And the lesson I gather is this : that the brokenness is a continuous affection, so to speak ; a state of mind and feeling persistently pervading all really spiritual soul exercise, — from first to last. It is the underswell of ocean, settling itself after a storm into a great calm ; and so lengthening out the calm. It is the sad and solemn note of a prolonged minor strain of sub- dued melody, accompanying, and as it were, hallowing, the louder and more varied music wliich it subdues. All through this penetential exercise of soul, the idea of brokenness of bones, of spirit, of heart, runs. It underlies the whole experience. It is not destructive of the gracious- ness and gladness of that experience, as an experience of purging with hyssop, and of a new creation ; of a clean heart and a right spirit. It is not inconsistent or incompatible with joy and gladness ; with rejoicing ; with the sense of God's presence, and the joy of his salvation, and a free spirit upheld by his Holy Spirit. Nay, it is at the root, and of the essence, of all that. It is like what good king Hezekiah felt, when, upon his providential and miraculous recovery from his sickness, and 426 THE PRAYEK OF A BROKEN HEART. the promised prolongation of his life, he said, " I shall go softly all my years, in the bitterness of my soul" (Isa. xxxviii. 15). It would have been well for him if he had been able to keep that resolution. But alas ! he forgot it, or failed to fulfil it. The crafty message from the king of Babylon, — ostensibly volunteered to congratulate him on the restoration of his health, but really meant to serve a deeper purpose, and spy the resources of the country, — seduced the unwary monarch into such a vainglorious display of his magnificence and wealth as could not fail to whet the appetite for plunder in the rising potentate of the east. And so the way was prepared for that invasion of Judah which ere long resulted in the years of exile by Babel's streams. "Would that Hezekiah had held by the first purpose of his penetential and trembling thanksgiving, " I shall go softly all my days, in the bitterness of my soul !" David, as it would seem, by God's grace, continues to realise, even under an experience of great comfort and revival, the deep original consciousness and conviction of the intimate connection between the "breaking of his bones" and their " rejoicing." For the connection here is not one of sequence merely. It is not that the bones are first broken ; and then, the breaking being over, they rejoice. Their being broken might thus issue in their rejoicing • having that as its native and proper fruit. But it might be simply as standing in the relation of a cause to an efi'ect ; the cause ceasing to act or operate when the efi'ect is produced. That, however, is not the bond of union here. These are not two separate states or experiences. The breaking of the bones is prolonged, con- tinuous, uninterrupted, and unending ; going on simultane- ously with their rejoicing ; being, indeed, all throughout the condition of their rejoicing. The two processes go on together as one ; so long as there are bones to be broken and to rejoice. ITS PRESENT SACRIFICE AND FINAL PROSPECT. 427 For this breaking of the bones is not like an abrupt agony of alarm, or sudden paroxysm of remorse ; whicb, violent for a time, exhausts itself, and passes off when the crisis is over. Nor is the joy in which it issues like " the laughter of fools, which is as the crackling of thorns under a pot." It is not a mere hilarious and exuberant outburst of gladness, as transient as it is Avild. It cannot be. For it is Christ's own joy ; the joy which he has in his own salvation ; in its accomplishment, and in its blessed fruits, so glorifying to his Father, so rich in grace for his people. "That my joy might remain in you and that your joy might be full," is his desire and prayer on your behalf. It is a full joy ; but calm and deep, and there- fore constant. It is the joy of receiving out of his fulness of grace and truth. It is the joy of sympathy with him as he " sees his seed." It is your entering into his rejoicing in the spirit when he said, " I thank thee, 0 Father, Lord of heaven and of earth, that thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes. Even so. Father, for so it seemed good in thy sight." Such joy is con- sistent with a broken spirit ; a broken and a contrite heart. That is indeed inseparable from it, and is a part of it. And therefore the free spirit of a believing penitent may be, as Paul speaks, "sorrowful, yet alway rejoicing;" sorrowful always, but yet rejoicing always. I say emphatically, the free spirit of a believing and repenting soul. For it is only as having the joy of the Lord's salvation restored to you, and as being thereby upheld in a free spirit, that you can have such sacrifices, or such a sacrifice to present ; and can so present it as to be sure that it will not be despised but welcomed. There is a sphere in which such sacrifices can have no place. If it is the question of your acceptance in the sight of God that is to be settled, there is no more efficacy in a broken spirit to take away sin than there is in the blood of bulls and of goats. And if the 428 THE PEAYER OF A BROKEN HEART. contrite heart is presented as a plea for pardon, it will most assuredly be despised. Plainly, however, I repeat, it is not sacrifices with a view to reconciliation that are here meant, but sacrifices proceeding on the footing of reconciliation, through faith in the one great sacrifice of propitiation. In truth, there can be no such thing as a broken spirit, a broken and a contrite heart, if it is made the condition, or the preliminary, of peace with God. The free remission of sin, through the sprinkling with hyssop of the blood of atonement, is essential to the genuineness of that blessed grace. "Without that free remission of sin, what kind of contrition can there be 1 Abject, and servile humi- liation there may be perhaps ; or desperate self-mortification and laboured prostration of soul and body ; like the cowardly crouching of a guilty slave, smarting or trembling under the rod, and begging in whining groans indulgence from his tyrant. But at bottom, there will be pride still ; and bitter hatred and resentment; and a sullen sense of degradation. The very necessity of such mean and unmanly abasement will irritate and fret the hard and haughty spirit, the yet unsub- dued heart. It is when you experience the fatherly love of God, as in his Son Jesus Christ he opens to you his great fatherly heart, and by his gracious Spirit draws you to him- self ; when he sees you afar off, and runs to meet you, and without one word of upbraiding or look of reproach, takes you into his arms, and clasps you in his embrace, and falls upon your neck, and kisses you ; it is then that the heart is truly broken, and the spirit becomes contrite. And then it is a sacrifice worthy of a recovered child ; acceptable to a recon- ciled and reconciling Father. " I will establish unto thee an everlasting covenant. Then thou shalt remember thy ways and be ashamed ; thou shalt know that I am the Lord ; that thou mayest remember and be confounded, and never open thy mouth any more because ITS PRESENT SACRIFICE AND FINAL PROSPECT. 429 of thy shame, when I am pacified toward thee for all that thou hast done, saith the Lord God." It is, indeed, a humble sacrifice ; a sacrifice which none but one thoroughly and spiritually humbled will be disposed to offer as " the sacrifice of God," or will be apt to think that " God >vill not despise." The natural mind, impatient of subjection to God, especially of subjection unconditional and unreserved, would rather present gifts of such a sort as may be numbered and weighed and measured ; so as to be, in some more or less ascertainable scale, made available for striking a balance of accounts, and effecting a settlement, by compro- mise, of God's claims upon us, and our obligations and re- sponsibilities to him. For such an end, outward acts and tangible forms and observances are evidently and eminently suitable. They may be calculated and reckoned up, and set off against faults and failings ; so that what God requires may be paid off, as it were, at once, or at least by definite instal- ments ; and credit may be taken for what is done or what is given. Even really good Avords and good works may thus come to be regarded by us as sacrifices profitable and accept- able to our God. Our teaching transgressors his ways ; our tongue singing aloud of his righteousness ; our mouth show- ing forth his praise ; even that may become a sacrifice, — if it is relied on as recommending us to God or satisfying ourselves, — such as God desires not, and does not delight in. To put, instead of all such outward acts, an inward habit ; instead of external and formal doings, a spiritual disposition, as alone well-pleasing to God ; is to disconcert the entire scheme of self-righteousness. It cuts up by the root every plea of self-justification. Especially it does so, if that habit, that disposition, is humility of soul ; brokenness of spirit ; brokenness and contrition of heart ; the relenting of a sub- dued and softened son towards a generous and gracious father. That is a kind of sacrifice which none but one resting on free 430 THE PEAYER OF A BROKEN HEART. grace will be pleased to offer, or will believe that God can be pleased to accept. To others it may appear unworthy, and such as only to be despised. But to you who feel the love of God in his special and close dealing with your own souls — to you who, being forgiven much, love much, it must become day by day, more and more, a blessed exercise and closet dis- cipline of conscience and memory, quickened by that love, — to find out, to be ever more and more finding out, how much has been and is forgiven you, that you may love the more, and see the more cause for loving. So you will long and strive to have your spirit more broken and your heart more contrite. For your desire is, that having nothing else to offer in the way of a sacrifice of thanksgiving to God, you may offer that at least guilelessly, whole and entire. Part Second. Under all this deeply personal experience of the Lord's dealing with your own soul, you are enabled to connect your individual case with wider prospects and vaster results ; — " Do good in thy good pleasure unto Zion ; build thou the walls of Jerusalem ; then shalt thou be pleased with the sacrifices of righteousness, with burnt-offering and whole burnt-offering ; then shall they offer bullocks upon thine altar." The Psalmist, being a prophet, sees in his own experience that of the church down to the end of time. His broken bones, his broken spirit, his broken and contrite heart, sym- bolise to him God's displeasure against Zion, and the over- throw of Jerusalem's walls ; as well as good to be done to Zion in God's restored good pleasure, and the favourable re- building of Jerusalem's ruined ramparts. And his own restored joy, in the experience of God's salvation, is to him a bright foretaste and anticipation of the universal jubilee of the completed church. ITS PRESENT SACRIFICE AND FINAL PROSPECT. 431 "What may be the manner of keeping this jubilee, I am not able to say, nor careful to inquire. Some have made the text one of the grounds of their belief that at the second coming of Christ, which they hold to be premillennial, there is to be a revival of the Levitical ritual, with all its cere- monial observances, evangelised and spiritualised ; just as others have inferred from the terms of the prayer, " Build thou the walls of Jerusalem," that the whole psalm must be relegated, for its date, to the Babylonian captivity. Surely it is not needful to resort to such ultra-literal interpretations. The spiritual relevancy of the prayer, as fitting into the Psalmist's present frame of mind, and in view of his prophetic insight and foresight, is sufficiently clear. In his own broken bones, I say again, he sees and feels the breaking down of the walls of Jerusalem. In his own broken spirit, his broken and contrite heart, he realises what Zechariah more clearly foretold : " I will pour upon the house of David and upon the inhabitants of Jerusalem the spirit of grace and of supplications ; and they shall look on him whom they have pierced ; and they shall mourn for him." And in his own broken bones rejoicing ; in the clean heart created in him and the right spirit renewed within him ; in the restored joy of God's salvation, and in the liberty and enlargement of his mouth showing forth God's praise ; — he anticipates, with liveliest sympathy, under old phraseology, the song that celebrates the consummation of the entire gospel dispensation, " Salvation to our God which sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb." " Do good in thy good pleasure unto Zion," I have done her grievous wrong. I have shaken the faith of her children, and given occasion to her adversaries to speak reproachfully. My shameful sin, my sad fall, has hurt many a tender con- science, and proved a snare to many an unstable soul. It has caused many to hang their heads and falter in their walk. 432 THE PKAYEK OF A BEOKEN HEART. It has opened the mouth of scandal, encouraging the sceptic in his distrust of all truth, and the scoffer in his contempt for all piety. Undo, Lord, the evil I have done. Let not thy people suffer damage for my fault. " Do good in thy good pleasure unto Zion." " Build thou the walls of Jerusalem." I have given them a rude and terrible shock. I have brought lust and blood- shed into the royal palace. Thou hast said that the sword shall never depart from my house ; and thou hast made me see a dark picture of domestic profligacy and crime along the line of my posterity. IsTor is it merely my own position, and that of my children after me, that I have put in peril. I have weakened the hold which the chosen nation has of thee, and of thy covenant with our father Abraham. I have exposed them to thy righteous judgment and the visitations of thy wrath. I have shaken the throne and the kingdom. I feel as if already the foundations were destroyed, and the ramparts of the holy city were tottering to their ruin. I can- not arrest the tide which I have let in, and which may ere long prostrate all this goodly structure in the dust. I cannot recall the past. All my tears of godly sorrow, all my holy lessons, all mj songs of praise, can avail little to avert the impending crash and crisis. " But build thou the walls of Jerusalem." Turn thou the captivity of thy people. Take thou thine own work into thine own hands. Plead thou thine own cause. Let " the man whose name is the Branch grow up out of his place." He " shall build the temple of the Lord." Let this be thy word to that Zerubbabel, "'Not by might, not by power, but by my Spirit, saith the Lord of Hosts." " Who art thou, 0 great mountain," standing in the way, and hindering my servant's triumphant progress 1 Who in- deed is it ? I tremble as I rejoice. Lord, is it I ? Is it I, the backslider 1 I the unfaithful professor 1 I the unstead- ITS PRESENT SACRIFICE AND FINAL PROSPECT. 433 fast believer 1 Is it I, with my lips closed and my mouth shut and silent 1 Is it thou, 0 barren fig-tree in the garden, fit only to be cursed 1 Is it thou, 0 Prince of darkness, to •whom and to whose legions my sin, and such sins as mine, have given so ill-omened an advantage 1 Who art thou 1 I cannot cope with thee. But whoever and whatever thou art, 0 great mountain, " before Zerubbabel thou shalt become a plain." Thou shalt be cut down. Thou shalt wither. Thou shalt cease to withstand ; with thine own consent ; — 0 let it be so ! — If not, by God's strong hand carrying thee away. Before Zerubbabel thou shalt become a plain. He shall build the walls of Jerusalem. " He shall bring forth the headstone of the temple with shoutings, crying, Grace, grace unto it." Then shalt thou, 0 Lord of heaven and earth, who art his God and Father, and ours in him — then " shalt thou be pleased with the sacrifices of righteousness, with burnt-ofier- ing and whole burnt-ofiering. Then shall they offer bullocks upon thine altar." In closing, let me offer two observations. I. How instructive is the view here given of the place which the church should occupy in the view of a spiritual man. It is not through the church that he reaches God ; it is, on the contrary, through God that he reaches the church. When the sinner, the backslider, is spiritually awakened, it is with God, with God directly and immediately, with God alone, that he has to deal. And he has to deal with him personally, in an individual capacity, No church interposes between him and the Searcher of hearts. No church may intercept his approach to the throne of God, or God's sovereign appeal to his conscience. The church can- not stand between me and my God, to answer for my guilt, to make my peace. Alone, and face to face, I meet him ; I, 2f 434 THE PRAYEE OF A BROKEN HEART. a miserable offender, meet liim, my Maker, my Lord, my Judge, my Saviour. The transaction is exclusively between him alone and me alone. Before him I stand, charged with sin against him only. From him only I hear the voice, " I have put away thy sin." In this settlement of the great controversy which God has with me, I have no concern with the church, nor the church with me. I have no eye for any third party. God, God in Christ, accusing, convicting, acquitting, saving ; God is all in all. In truth, it is this very settlement of the controversy personally, by God himself alone, which brings me into contact with the church, and moves me to feel an interest in its prosperity. And whereas too often the church would have men to deal with God as if God was hers, the Psalmist's method is the very reverse. He cares for the church, because the church is God's. For look again at the progress of this spiritual exercise of soul. First, as an individual, I am roused to a consideration of my state before God, and in the sight of God. I remem- ber God, and am troubled. Again, I believe in God, and find rest. Impelled by what I have myself seen and tasted of the loving-kindness of the Lord, I feel an irresistible call to go and tell all my friends and neighbours. Still, it is as an individual — nay, it is as if I were the only individual in all the world who had made the glorious discovery, and heard the joyful sound. The case of my fellow-sinners perishing around me moves me to teach them God's ways, that they may be converted to him ; and the honour of my God, now dear to me, demands that I should show forth his praise. I would fain have suitable sacrifices, worthy offerings, presented in abundance to him. But I, a single isolated sinner, saved myself by grace, sinning still, and needing grace more and more, what can I give but this broken spirit of mine, this broken and contrite heart 1 Ah ! here comes in the welcome thought that God has a church, an elect and holy church, ITS PRESENT SACRIFICE AND FINAL PROSPECT. 435 in which he is to be suitably and worthily glorified. The whole world is lying in wickedness ; and I, Avhat can I do "? I said that I would teach transgressors, and convert sinners. Alas ! I am stained with blood, and I am slow of speech. My testimony, how feeble and uncertain ! And who receives my message? who believes my report? Is the prospect, then, all dark and dreary 1 Is there no adequate service and sacrifice of praise yet to be found on earth for my God ? Let me think of Zion ; let me remember Jerusalem. There God has placed the honour of his name. There he will gather tropliies and be crowned with glory manifold. The Ee- deemer shall see of the travail of his soul and be satisfied. " When the Lord shall build up Zion, he shall appear in his glory." II. Observe how the deeply exercised soul is fitted for divine service ; being first, warmed and excited ; then secondly, subdued and chastened ; and thirdhj, elevated and enlarged. The impulse prompting him, under the sense of his own narrow escape, to tell what the Lord has done, might become a sort of blind enthusiasm ; high-minded, but scarcely safe ; were it not for its being blended with the humbling appre- hension of his own continual and increasing indebtedness to grace, and the impossibility of his ever having anything but broken bones to give to God. While that conviction again might become almost too depressing, were it not that he is enabled to enter with lively sympathy into the vast design of God as unfolded in the history and prospects of his universal church. But when compacted and welded together, — these three becoming one, — they form the one holy principle of Christian duty, zeal, and love. It is a principle having all the intensity of personal feeling ; for it springs from the deep source of personal experience. I speak because I 436 THE PRAYER OF A BROKEN HEART. believe. I "believe and therefore speak. It is a principle having all the sobriety, simplicity, and chastened earnestness, of the most child-like submission, the most entire and abso- lute self-renunciation ; for it flows continually through the channel of a broken spirit, a broken and a contrite heart, ever realising its own emptiness and dependence. It is a principle, finally, having all the enlargement and elevation of the divine love itself ; for it grasps the mighty plan of God in all its comprehensive fulness of grace and glory. Springing up in your own bosom, out of your own personal experience, it rises to the bosom of God, and becomes associated, united, identified with his eternal purpose ! Your aim and his are now the same. Your desire and his are now the same. Your hope and his are now the same. You and he alike, you and he together, find satisfaction in the prospect of that blessed day, when " incense and a pure offering shaU be offered unto his name, from the rising of the sun even to the going down of the same." CHRIST COMING QUICKLY. 437 XXIV. CHRIST COMING QUICKLY. "Behold, I come quickly: blessed is he that keepeth the sayiugs of the prophecy of this book. . . . And, behold, I come quickly ; and my reward is with me, to give every man according as his work shall be. . . . He which testiiieth these things saith, Surely I come quickly. Amen. Even so, come. Lord Jesus." — Rev. xxii. 7, 12, 20. This assurance, given three times within the short compass of these closing verses (6-21), is not only in itself, hut in respect also of its repetition, significant and emphatic. It occurs once before, in the message to the Philadelphian church (chap. iii. 11), in a connection somewhat similar to that in which it first occurs here. As it stands here, it is addressed to no particular church, but to all to whom this book of the Eevelation is known. It is the burden or key-note of the book's concluding strain. And as the book is evidently meant to be the conclusion of the whole volume of inspiration, whether it was the last written or not is not material. This announcement is the Lord's parting word to the church as she is to be left on earth till he comes again from heaven. It is his farewell. Hereafter I will not talk with you any more, as I have been doing, in my personal ministry, through my inspired apostles, and in this book, by my angel signifying to my servant John things which must shortly come to pass. All that I have to say in connection with my coming in the flesh, and 438 CHRIST COMING QUICKLY. through much tribulation in the flesh entering into glory, has now been said. The Holy Spirit is to teach you all things whatsoever I have said, and to bring them to your remem- brance ; so that I shall be still present with you, ever appre- hended and felt by you to be freshly speaking to you these things, speaking them in my own proper person to all my little ones individually, one by one, as really as I have been speaking them to John and his fellows hitherto. I will not leave you comfortless. In that way, I will be ever coming to you. Lo, I am with you always. But the revelation and the record of it. are complete. The sum of all that I have to communicate is made up. My lips are closed as to any new utterances. As the Father's witness, I have, for the present, nothing more to say. I take my leave. But, "behold, I come quickly." Viewed thus in connection with the completed volume of divine discovery, as it clusters round the first appearing or advent of the Lord, this intimation of the fact of his second coming, and the manner of it — I come, and I come quickly — is plainly fitted, like the Lord's own emphatic warnings towards the end of his personal ministry and teaching, rather to deepen the feeling of responsibility as regards the present, than to stimulate curiosity or encourage speculation as to the future. It is the admonition, as it were, of a teacher when he has finished the giving out of a lesson. See that it be well conned and learned. I shall be with you presently to hear you say it. The servants have got their Lord's wiU, so far as he sees fit to make it known to them, put into authentic shape. They have got all the information they are to have on the subject of the intervening period ; — all that is needful for the unfolding of his plan and for their guid- ance in connection with it. They have nothing more to expect. They are to make the most of what they have. For, he says, " I come quickly." CHRIST COMING QUICKLY. 439 There is, undoubtedly, a difficulty here. It arises out of the lapse of time. He says, " Behold, I come quickly." But how quickly 1 Centuries have rolled on, and there is no coming, no sign of coming. I would face the difficulty, and see how it may be met. I. The difficulty is not met by putting death instead of the second advent, or by considering the two events as prac- tically identical. They are not so. As motives, they tell very differently on our minds. They present the future in very different lights. Death is our going to Christ. The second advent is his coming to us. Death is, in a solemn sense, isolation. It is our meeting with Christ, with God in Christ, separately, individually, each one of us apart, each one of us alone. The second advent is union and reunion. It is the gathering together of all in Christ ; all in heaven and all in earth. Death is abstraction, spirituality. The second advent is substantial embodiment, fresh corporeity. Death is silent and successive, taking man after man noiselessly away, one by one. The second advent is simultaneous, one blast of the trumpet summoning all together. Death is the preparation for judgment. It is the apprehension or arrest of the parties who are to be judged. The second advent is the judgment itself It is the great and final assize. It announces the irreversible, eternal issues. Thus it may appear that there are such differences between death and the second advent, con- sidered in the light of motives, as must preclude their being, as motives, confounded or identified. There is undoubtedly one particular, in respect of which they may be assimilated. It is the suddenness of their com- ing. Death may come in a moment, at any moment. Is not this, to the individual believer, the same thing virtually as the Lord's coming again to receive him to himself? And is not the possible suddenness of death as strong and urgent a 440 CHRIST COMING QUICKLY. consideration as the predicted suddenness of the second advent 1 To a large extent, even as regards believers, this must be allowed. And certainly, as regards unbelievers, in appealing to the unconverted, I would admit of no distinc- tion. I would not waste a moment's thought in weighing the difference between the two motives in question. What ! When men are dying, perishing, ripening for eternal fire, shall we nicely hold the balance between the means or motives by which we may pluck them as brands out of the burning 1 Let us tell them that Christ is coming quickly. Let us tell them that death is coming quickly. Let us anyway and anyhow sound in their ears the alarm : " This night thy soul may be required of thee." " The Judge standeth at the door." " Flee from the wrath to come." Even the Lord's own people need to be reminded, for comfort as well as for edification, that death may be to them individually equivalent to the second advent, in respect of the immediateness of their entrance into rest ; and that it is the same in respect of the obligation of being always prepared. But still, the two future events are not to be confounded or confused as motives. One point of difference is very clear. The idea of death suddenly snatching me from this body of mine, and this my bodily and earthly condition, takes my mind off" altogether from the circumstances and characteristics of my present being. The idea of Christ suddenly meeting and confronting me fixes my mind upon them. In either case, the elements of suddenness, unexpectedness, the absence of previous warn- ing or notification, is practically most important. But it does not in both cases tell in the same way. Where am I, at any given moment 1 What am I doing 1 How am I occupied and engaged 1 Let me pause and think. In another moment my soul may be away from this mortal frame, and this gay or busy scene. It will all be as if it had never been ! Most CHRIST COMING QUICKLY. 441 affecting, most thrilling, most solemnising is the thought ! Oh ! that I were wise, that I were ever realising this thought, that I were always thus considering my latter end ! But again, let me pause and think. Christ is to appear suddenly. He comes quickly. That sudden appearing of his is to me near, at the very door. I am to feel and apprehend it to be so. It is to me as if the very next time I lifted my eyes from the work I am doing, or the book I am reading, or the letter I am writing, or the friend with whom I am talking, I were abruptly to see my Lord ! to see him in glory on his glorious throne of judgment, and to be in a moment, in the bodily state in which I am, and with the very earthly business I have on hand, cited and sisted before him, to see him as he is. II. Is the difficulty met by getting rid of the interval, real or supposed, as by placing the coming of the Lord before the millennium ? How can I be asked or expected to live, as if Christ were coming quickly, momentarily, as if he might come to-morrow or to-day, or this instant, if I believe that at least 1000 years must intervene before he comes 1 The difficulty is precisely the same, if any interval of time, or even any single event or series of events be interposed. Let me put myself in the position of the disciples, gazing after their ascending Lord, and listening to the voice of the angels : " Ye men of Galilee, why stand ye gazing into heaven 1 This same Jesus, which is taken up from you into heaven, shall so come in like manner as ye have seen him go into heaven " (Acts. i. 2) He shall come again. From that instant they were to live as if he might come at any time. They had been so commanded by their Lord himself : " Watch ye there- fore, for ye know not the time when the Master of the house Cometh, at even, or at midnight, or at the cock crowing, or in the morning ; lest coming suddenly, he find you sleep- ing. And what I say unto you, I say unto all, watch" (Mark xiii. 442 CHKIST COMING QUICKLY. 35-37). Thus, then, from the moment they saw him depart, they were to realise his quick and sudden coming, as what might happen at any moment thereafter. And yet they knew of one event that must come in between his going away and his coming again. They were to wait at Jerusalem till they received the Holy Ghost, Again, let me put myself in the position of the Thessalonians, to whom Paul wrote so earnestly, exhorting them to live in the faith of the Lord's coming quickly at any time. They were not to sleep, as did others, but to watch and be sober, seeing that the day of the Lord Cometh as a thief in the night. And yet they too were told of a signal event that must take place before the Lord appeared ; the apostasy ; the rise and revelation of that wicked one ; the antichristian development of Eome. So also is it in the Eevelation. The words, " Behold, I come quickly," are uttered at the close of a proj)hecy, foretelling a whole ecclesiastical history. Nor does it avail to say, that in these cases, the length of time that the intervening events might occupy was concealed. Let it be granted that the disciples did not know how long the dispensation of the Holy Ghost they were to wait for might last, and that the Thessalonians did not know how many years the predicted apostasy would last, nor John, what lengthened centuries the history he predicted would take to unfold itself They might conceive of it, we may argue, as very short. Be it so. Still it was an interval It was, so far, a postponement to them, be it ever so brief, of the expectation of the second advent. They knew that there was something to happen and some time to elapse before the Lord's appearing. They were positively, and even anxiously, informed that this was to be the case. And yet it was their duty to realise practically, and as an influential motive to personal purity and holy watchfulness, the suddenness and nearness of the Lord's appearing ; to live, in short, as if he CHRIST COMING QUICKLY. 443 might appear at any time. This it must have been possible for them, by faith, through the Spirit's influence, to do. And where is the essential difference between a longer and a shorter interval interposed 1 Do you reply that these believers, regarding the interval as indefinite, and possibly as very brief, might feel to-day, as if what was to happen before the Lord came might be over to-morrow, and therefore, he might come to-morrow ? Be it so. Still, until it was over, the expectation was to them as unequivocally and decidedly postponed, as it is by the intervention of hundreds of ages. I have no idea, however, that they were left, or that it was intended that they should be left, so much at sea and in the dark. Only I repeat. Let the event interposed be ever so hurried, and the interval ever so brief and uncertain, pre- cisely the same difficulty is raised as by the interposition of the entire millennium ; a difficulty the very same in kind, and really not at all less in degree. For, in truth, we must have some principle here to explain how a believer can live, as if Christ might come suddenly at any moment, although he knows that some certain thing must happen before he comes. I say we must have some principle to explain this, partaking of the same power or virtue, in respect of which, to God himself, one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day. ITL In looking out for such a principle, I would desire to avoid everything that might appear like refining upon or explaining away the strong and plain statements of the word of God on this subject. " Behold I come as a thief." "Behold I come quickly." " The Lord is at hand." There is a sense in which, from the moment of his departure, he may be truly and emphatically said to be coming quickly. He is making haste to come, inasmuch as he is putting matters in train, as it were, for his speedy return. The whole march or movement 444 CHRIST COMING QUICKLY. of affairs, from his ascension to his glorious appearing, is quick and rapid. There is no drawing of breath, as it were ; not an instant is lost ; he is no sooner gone than it seems as if he were on the way back again ; and such is the ceaseless flow, the rapid and resistless force, with which all things are hastening on to usher in the last solemn crisis, that the believer seems to see and realise his Eedeemer and Judge, as even now already on the wing, and on the very point of emerging from the clouds in glory. It is a sublime and spirit-stirring view. " Ye men of Israel, why stand ye gazing up into the heavens 1 This same Jesus who is taken up, shall so come in like manner as ye have seen him go into heaven." He shall come ; he is already coming : even now, he is on the wing, so to speak, and on the way. "What though ages have to roll on, and many a world-history has to be acted out before his actual appearing] It is a rapid, swift, hasty, sudden coming after all. He is making short w^ork ; He is losing no time ; nor is there any time to be lost by you. Behold, he cometh quickly. There is much practical power in an appeal like this ; although it is not quite satisfactory as a solution or explanation of the difficulty. It rather evades than meets it'; and giving an excellent gloss or paraphrase on the plain and solemn warn- ings of Scripture, it yet fails in bringing home the precise truth taught. IV. The real explanation, as it would seem, is to be found in the power of that principle of faith which enlightens darkness and annihilates distance, which brings out the in- visible and brings near the remote, which is "the substance of things hoped for, and the evidence of things not seen." The second coming of Christ, like the first, is an object of faith ; and it is so in all its particulars as regards the person coming, the purpose of his coming, and the manner of his coming. CHRIST COMING QUICKLY. 445 Now to a believer, the mere possibility, or even absolute cer- tainty, of ages being yet to elapse before the Lord come again, ought no more to diminish the influence of that event upon his mind, and heart, and conscience, than the fact of ages having elapsed since the Lord came at first lessens the moral weight of his constant vivid sight of Christ and him cruci- fied, and his always bearing about with him the dying of the Lord Jesus, Everything about the first coming of Christ, and especially about the cross, the capital and central and all- engrossing subject of the picture, the sudden lifting up on the accursed tree, the streaming of the blood and water, the cry of agony — Why am I forsaken 1 the voice of satisfaction — " It is finished " — the prayer of unutterable faith and love — "Father, forgive them :" "Father, into thy hands I commit my Spirit : " all this I say, is to the believer ever fresh, as if it were but of yesterday, nay, as if it were a spectacle of to-day. It tells upon his whole moral nature, not as a past, but as a present reality. Before his eyes, he feels ever as if Christ were even now evidently set forth, crucified for him Why should it be otherwise with the second coming of the Lord] Believer in Jesus, — simple, single-eyed, meek and lowly child of God, — Do you feel any difficulty in real- ising that first coming and all that is involved in it, as not past and gone and obsolete, but present, and pressing upon you daily 1 — any difficulty, I mean, arising out of the long tract of centuries you have to travel over, before you find its date in the history of time ? Do you trouble yourself here ■with the innumerable occurrences that crowd the intervening period 1 And when you are living in all simplicity and godly sincerity by the faith of the Son of God, who loved you and gave himself for you, does the intrusive suggestion, Ah ! but that is long gone by ! ever come to mar the force and point of this all-prevailing motive to holiness 1 Never, you will reply, never, except to be resisted; you strive against it until, by 446 CHRIST COMING QUICKLY. God's help, you have got rid of it, and find yourself enabled to realise that shedding of blood as a thing of to-day. I know no chronology and no chronological computation of long eras, in dealing with that Saviour, who eighteen hun- dred years ago trod with his blessed feet the soil of Juda;a, and expired on the cross of Calvary. I know no chronology and no chronological calculation of the manifold intricacies of dates and cycles, in that which is my daily, hourly, momentary life of faith ; my looking unto Jesus crucified, as the Lamb slain, and embracing Jesus risen as my Lord and my God. Then why, I would with all deference submit, — why should there be any real difficulty in applying this principle in the prospect, more than in the retrospect 1 Does faith mounting up in the ascending series of years to the opening up of the fountain, long centuries ago, lose all sense of distance and remoteness, in the bright and vivid apprehension of the cross ; the cross as fresh, and new this very moment, as if that earth which Saracen and Turk have trodden down were still stained with the warm drops that fell from the pierced side ? And will not the same faith in its keen glance downwards and onwards along the stream of time, seize the one great and only object of its hope, and bring it near, even to the very door, ay, though the destinies of a hundred dynasties and the revo- lutions of a thousand ages may seem to come in between 1 Surely there is among not a few spiritual men some mis- apprehension here. Take the somewhat analogous instance of the prospect of death ; which is not indeed to be substi- tuted for the hope of the second advent, or confounded with it ; but which yet may be referred to for illustration in this particular matter. The prospect of death is undoubtedly, to the believer, so far as it goes, a perfectly legitimate and Avar- rantable motive to activity and to holiness. It is not, in itself, sufficient : and especially, we admit, it is not the same motive with that which the second advent presents. Eut it CHEIST COMING QUICKLY. 447 is a good Cliristian motive to watchfulness, nevevtlieless. And to the believer, as to other men, doubtless its efficacy depends not a little upon the suddenness with which it may- come. But how is my faith, to deal with this event ? Is it in the way of a calculation of chances 1 That is the world's way of dealing, both with death and with the second advent. "Because sentence against an evil work is not executed speedily, therefore the heart of the sons of men is fully set in them to do evil." They say : — The Lord delay eth his coming. This may be very natural in a worldly man. He would inter- pose something between death and his present state. Cer- tainly, or very probably, this or that event may have yet to happen before I die. But do I, at any time, as a believer in Jesus, feel that I am reasoning thus, or that I would reason thus if I knew of any certain interval that must elapse before sudden death can befall me 1 It is high time to awake. And what, in such a state, is the remedy 1 To get the interval on which. I am beginning to reckon taken out of the way ? No. But to get my soul again brought into such an atti- tude and exercise of faith, that interval or no interval shall be the same thing to me, and I shall live as realising the nearness and certainty and suddenness of death, as what may come on me at any moment, and in any circumstances. Simeon was told, while yet comparatively young, that he should not see death until he should see the Lord's anointed. Hezekiah was informed that a lease of fifteen years of renewed life was sure to him, ere the fear of death again need overtake him. What should have been the effect of these announcements to these holy men, these men of faith and prayer '? To set them free from the consideration of their latter end ? or from the consideration of it as a motive quite as urgent and influ- ential as if nothing were to intervene at all 1 Nor will it do to say that, in the instance at least of Hezekiah, such too pro- bably was in part the tendency and the effect of the respite he 448 CHEIST COMING QUICKLY. obtained. That was Ms infirmity. He should have remem- bered his last end. It was still his duty to live under the influence of the prospect of death, and a divine faith would have enabled him to do so, just as thoroughly when he knew that fifteen years must pass before death came, as when he heard the knell, " Thou must die and not live." Yes, my friends, and Avhen we consider the difference be- tween death and the second coming, in one all-important particular, the application of our present illustration will be the more emphatic. Death may be sudden. The Lord's second coming must be so. It is a possible suddenness that is to teU upon you in the one case. It is a certain suddenness in the other. And explain it as you may ; adopt our explana- tion, or any other you prefer ; the peremptory practical point is clearly and unequivocally this ; — that as children of God, having in you the hope of glory, you are to be ever purifying yourselves under the vivid, reaKsing apprehension of him who is pure breaking out of the clouds, and breaking in upon you, at any moment ; and what he said to the disciples he says to you, and what he says unto you, he says unto all, " Watch ! " V. Let the event of Christ's coming be apprehended apart from all preceding and accompanying circumstances. There are various outstanding events in the scheme of unful- filled prophecy that are full of interest, as we try to antici- pate and decipher them beforehand. The fulfilling of the times of the Gentiles, the bringing in of the Jews, the ruin of mystic Babylon, or literal Eome, the judgments to be inflicted upon the nations of the earth, the several particular occur- rences, whether unclean and lying agencies of Satan, or divine interpositions of mercy and wrath that are to mark the crisis of Antichrist's fate, and usher in the reign of Christ and of the saints, — these, together with the features and character- istics of that reign itself, — the period of its duration, and the CHRIST COMING QUICKLY. 449 strange catastrophe in whicli it seems to end, form a wide field of prophetic inquiry in which it is not wonderful that thoughtful men part asunder. I believe, indeed, that there is a closer agreement among intelligent students of prophecy in regard to the whole grand outline of this prospective his- tory, than appears on the surface. The fond dream is now generally abandoned of a gradual and insensible sliding into millennial blessedness and peace. An era is looked for in the winding up of this Gentile form of the dispensation, quite as well defined as that which marked the close of the Jewish, only proportionally more wonderful and more terrible. It was no soft euthanasia, or gradual melting into the economy which was to succeed it, that brought the Jewish day of grace to an end, but a dreadful day of vengeance to the Jew — a day of judgment indeed. Has the Gentile day of grace been better improved than theirs"? Is the Gentile apostasy, whether in the east or in the west, less ripe for God's wrath than theirs 1 Nay, that unparalleled siege of Jerusalem, this long desolation of Judasa, are but faint types of Babylon's doom ; to the Gentile churches, and the nations that have had the gospel among them, the day of grace may well be expected to have as dark a close, and the day of judgment as tremendous a rising as in the case of Israel. And with Avhat manifestations of divine majesty and power this exercise of the Saviour's dread prerogative of judge among the Gentiles may be accompanied, or with what resurrection-wonders, literal or spiritual, the setting in of a new and brighter economy is to be signalised, the opening beauty of that millennial day, which is to be the day of special grace, not to Jews or Gentiles peculiarly, but to the whole world, who can say 1 At this stage in the unfolding of the future drama there is undoubtedly room for expecting much that will indicate the immediate presence of him who is the judge of all the earth ; while, again, in the new 2g 450 CHEIST COMING QUICKLY. impulse to be given, on a scale so much wider, and in cir- cumstances so much more propitious, to the dispensation of the grace of God, then at last become universal ; the risen Saviour, he who is the Eesurrection and the Life, will assuredly, by many infallible tokens, show himself as living and as life- giving. All this might to a large extent be surveyed, and ascertained, and marked out as common ground, so that upon one condition a large measure of harmony might ensue. Upon one condition, I say ; for there is a preliminary matter to be adjusted. The second coming of our Lord, his glorious appearing, that one solemn, awful, joyful event, which is the terror of the Lord for persuading men, and the hope set before believers for their quickening, encourage- ment, and support — I would desire to see lifted at once and altogether out of the troubled class of these terrestrial agita- tions, and placed high and clear above and beyond them all. Whether he is visibly to appear in the midst of them, or not ; whether his martyrs, or his saints, are to be raised literally before that new reign of his, or not ; whether the reign itself is to be a state of things in w^hicli Christ the king is to be actually seen, and his risen servants are to be actually mingling with the society of flesh and blood, and a heavenly city is to be always apparent, and the nations are to walk in the light of it, and a literal temple service, with literal commemorative sacrifices, is to be reinstituted ; or is to be a state of things in which what corresponds to these pro- phetic sj-mbols is to be spiritual, and is to be spiritually dis- cerned— however those things may be, I cannot but think that it were well to consider if the precise second advent and glorious appearing which is the great and ultimate terror of the wicked, and the great and ultimate hope of the righteous, be not, after all, an event detached from all these revolutions and revivals, seen, indeed, as if casting its shadow before, in them all and through them all, more dimly or more clearly, CHRIST COMING QUICKLY. 451 as the case may be, but yet standing out, apart and isolated from them all, in broad and sharp outline, having its own incommunicable features of majesty and awe — a Saviour judge, an assembled universe, and an unbroken eternity behind. If indeed there is such a day coming, when all is over ; and if, to the eye of inspiration in prophetic vision, it is always present, in its glory and terror, looming darkly in the distance, yet seeming ever near ; then it is no wonder that all the scenes which the prophets paint of intermediate transac- tions, should take form and colour, more or less, from that sublime and solemn background. Especially when these transactions partake of the very nature of what is to be done at that day, when they are signal acts of divine judgment or signal deliverances and interpositions of divine mercy, falling under the mediatorial sovereignty of the Eedeemer, as ruling among the nations, and as Head over all things to his church, and when, moreover, these may very possibly be occasions for some special discovery of himself, and some rehearsals, as it were, on a limited scale, of the grand con- summation which is to embrace all, and to finish all ; then, still more may it be expected that the intermediate prophetic descriptions will be cast into the mould of that one announce- ment, which, from the beginning, has been God's alarm- trumpet to a godless world since Enoch, the seventh from Adam, cried, " Behold, the Lord cometh with ten thousand of his saints, to execute judgment upon all," Arrange the dates and events connected with the winding up of the times of the Gentiles, and the bringing in of millennial peace, as you may : let the advent of Christ then be ever so palpable, and the reign of Christ and the risen saints thereafter ever so literal : I yet cannot divest myself of the impression, as I try by anticipation to take my place under that glorious economy, that still, even then, and after all, the real coming of tie 452 CHRIST COMING QUICKLY. Lord, with, which chiefly men, as men, have to do, is out- standing and impending, waiting in reserve, and coming as a thief for all. I do not now enter into the detailed considera- tion of such questions as I have indicated respecting what may be coming, and that shortly, on this earth of ours. I feel the tempting and fascinating interest, and fully admit the practical importance of such inquiries prosecuted soherly and with humility. By all means let the churches of Christ be awakened from their drowsiness, and the nations of the world startled from their security, by the loud cry, The Lord, the Judge, the Avenger, is at hand. But I plead for keeping apart the great judgment day, for the simultaneous appearance and trial and sentence of the whole countless myriads of individuals of the race of Adam, ay, and the angels too, from all these vicissitudes that yet await cliurches and nations upon the stage of time. And it is with that great judgment day, and its issues for weal or woe throughout the endless lapse of everlasting ages, which no subsequent interruption is ever to break, that I feel constrained exclusively to connect and identify that appearing of Christ, which is represented throughout the Word of God as so influential a motive to personal repentance and personal sanctification and watchfulness and prayer. Let the solemnities of that day, and of its results, remain entire, and let it be understood that these solemnities are the essential elements or ingredients of that great final event of the Lord's coming quickly, which is to be proclaimed for arresting the ungodly and keeping the Lord's own people ever on the watch, and on the look out, and on the alert ; then I feel that that grand cardinal article in our common Christianity is made sure : God hath appointed a day wherein he will judge the world by that man whom he has ordained, Jesus Christ. " To them that look for him he shall appear the second time without sin unto salvation." CHRIST COMING QUICKLY. 453 Give me only that day and its momentous issues as the ultimate object of the church's faith and hope ; and you may introduce, in the intermediate space before it, interpositions of Christ's power, and even appearances of Christ's person, of whatever sort and in whatever manner. By all means let the onward march and movement of affairs in the world's history, as it runs fast on and draws near its close and crisis, be broken by signs and wonders, by voices and visits from above. Let there be a quick coming of the Lord, whether personal, or spiritual, or providential, to usher in a new era of universal empire for himself, as there was when the bodies of many saints arose on the resurrection morn, when the Spirit was poured out on the day of Pentecost, when Saul on his way to Damascus was called to be the Apostle of the Gen- tiles. Let there even be a sojourn of the Lord and the risen saints for a season on the millennial earth. Still, let me have outstanding, beyond all that, towering above all that, the Lord's swift coming in the clouds of heaven, to take his seat on the great white throne, to summon all the quick and the dead for judgment, to seal the final, irrevocable doom of apostate angels and unbelieving men ; to complete the gather- ing together in one of all things in him, both of things in heaven and things on earth ; even in him of whom the whole family in heaven and earth is named. This is that coming of the Lord which he himself would have you ever to realise as quick and sudden ; as near, even at the door. Its sharp suddenness, its immediate nearness, you are to apprehend by faith ; even as by faith you apprehend as very near to you his once offering up of himself a sacrifice to take away your sin. These are the two events, the death of shame, the coming in glory, which faith, when rightly exercised, grasps ; which I, believing, grasp. I grasp them as equally real, equally nigh. I grasp him, Christ Jesus my Lord, dying for me ; coming again to receive me to himself ; Christ 454 CHRIST COMING QUICKLY. crucified, Christ coming in glory ; I grasp Christ, and Christ only. Is not this what is meant when I sit at his table, and show his death till he come 1 Seated there, I am to see nothing, I am to be conscious or cognisant of nothing, I am to think of nothing, I am to know nothing, but Christ dying and Christ coming. It is as if all the past, since that scene on Calvary, and all the future, on to the end of time, were a blank, a vacancy. It is all annihilated ; it is aU gone. My only past is Christ dying ; my only future is Christ coming. Not long past is the one ; not long future is the other. Jesus ! I see thee now going from the cross now before me, fresh and gory, as on Calvary; I see thee now going heaven- ward. Jesus ! I see thee now coming thence, from heaven, in thy love and in thy glory. Even so come. Lord Jesus. Ah ! is it not this fixed riveting of my soul on Christ ; on Christ himself, on Christ alone, on Christ in this two- fold aspect, Christ dying, Christ coming ; is it not this concentrated gaze of my inward eye on Christ as near, as pre- sent, in both aspects ; Christ dying, near and present, Christ coming, near and present ; is it not this that makes my showing his death till he come, real, blessed, profitable? What though ages have run since that death I show, and ages more are perhaps to run before that coming ! It is nothing to me. The world's history, past and future ; the Church's history, past and future ; all is to me for the present as if it never had been and never were to be. I am looking to Christ, dealing with Christ ; Christ himself ; Christ alone ; Christ now dying ; Christ now coming. And should not this, which is the real charm of the supper, this faith annihilating sense, and seeing only the invisible, be the habit of the whole Christian life 1 Should I not be always thus living ; bringing to bear these two appearings of Christ, his appearing in grace and his appear- CHRIST COMING QUICKLY. 455 ing IB glory, his dying and his coming, on every step I take, every choice I make, every work I do ? Wherever I am, whatever I am about, ought I not to be alive to my position between these two manifestations of Christ, and these alone ] Behind me Christ dying ; before me Christ coming. And not far behind me Clirist dying ; not far before me Christ coming. Between me and Christ dying I see nothing ; between me and Christ coming I see nothing. In this double light alone ; in rays from the cross, in rays from the glory ; in that light alone I see the step I am taking, the choice I am making, the work I am doing. All intermediate considera- tions being obliterated and ignored, every standard of judg- meat and comparison suggested by events past or future, or by friends or foes pressing them on my regard ; let me ask of this duty apt to be irksome ; of this trial felt to be griev ous ; of this pleasure tempting me ; of this pain deterring me ; how does it look in the light of Christ dying for me, Christ coming to me ? Is it not thus, and only thus, that I live by the faith of him who loved me and gave himself for me ; that I live also by the power of the world to come ; enduring as seeing him who is invisible ] APPENDIX. ADDEESSES TO THE STUDENTS OF THE NEW COLLEGE, EDINBUEGH* Friends and Brethren, — Being forced reluctantly to abandon all idea of personally taking any part in the proceedings of this Session, and being very unwilling to let it close without some indication of my unabated interest in you and in your studies and prospects, I take the liberty of speaking to you in a few words through the press. I beg your acceptance accordingly of two addresses delivered, the one at the end of last Session, and the other at the opening of the present Session ; — not as if I considered them of much value in themselves, but in the hope that they may help to keep me in your kindly remembrance, and may also suggest to you some not unprofitable lines of thought. They were hastily composed, and did not bring out to my own satisfaction the kind of inquiry I wished to institute. For I had it in my mind to contribute something towards the supply of what must be admitted to be a present desideratum, — the magnifying of the preacher's office, in harmony with received evangelical traditions, and with due reference to more recent tastes and tendencies. To my younger brethren in the ministry, and more * These addresses are added to this volume in order to preserve Dr. Candlish's last counsels to divinity students as to their preaching the gospel of Jesus Christ. 458 APPENDIX. especially to you whom I address, a somewhat more difficult task falls than I think we who are passing away had to face ; or at any rate a task somewhat different. When I hegan work in 1829, — for, though not ordained till 1834, I was in harness and upon full duty from the former date, having the entire charge successively of two congregations, — it was when the tide of the evangelical revival that specially marked the second and third decades of this century was still full and fresh. The ground was then simply and clearly marked. Two styles of preaching were opposed to one another ; the one, the old commonplace routine of moral essays, with elegant literary compositions on the Christian evidences, or on the heathen ethics slightly Christianised ; — the other, what was largely felt in that age to he comparatively new, the proclamation of a free gospel, or of salvation by grace alone. There was little, if any, intermediate or debatable territory. Discourses on virtue generally, or on particular virtues in detail, — under a favourite plan of division setting forth, first, the nature of the virtue, secondly, its obligation, and thirdly, some reasons for the practice of it, — formed the staple of pulpit oratory in the moderate school ; while the evangelical minister, on the other hand, was chiefly occupied in the primary and elementary work of pressing upon the acceptance of his hearers the unrestricted and unconditional offer of immediate pardon, peace, and eternal life, through the blood and merit of Christ. Thus the line was sharply drawn. The doctrine of justification by grace alone, through faith alone, in the righteousness of Christ alone, stood boldly out in contrast with what was then almost its only antagonist in the pulpit, the cold and dry praise to weariness of good outward conduct. The heralds of the cross had a plain, if somewhat narrow, path to tread. Things have considerably changed since then. The anti- evangelical or non-evangelical pulpit has materially altered APPENDIX. 459 its tone. Such Christless discourses and mere moral plati- tudes as used to pass muster respectably and creditably enough, would not be well received or tolerated now. Christ is preached after a fashion, — or a Christ of some sort is preached, — generally in all the churches. It is not that the offence of the cross has ceased, or the dislike and disrelish of the pure and simple gospel at all abated. The published writings of the class of divines I refer to, — even the best of them, — suggest the very opposite inference ; and the current light literature of the day, in trashy sensational novels and flippant newspaper or magazine articles, abundantly confirms the inference. But here lies the danger. Their opposition to the Evangelical system, or the evangelical mode of setting forth the truth as it in Jesus, is not now negative merely, but actively and in a high degree positive. It is not merely the omitting or dropping out of Christ, — or of all but the name of Christ, — in their essays ; it is the substitution of a false ideal instead of the real original. They are doctrinal now and theological in their teaching ; and that fact is fitted to make their teaching plausible and prevalent. You who desire to stand in the old way, and preach the old gospel, must take this condition of matters into account. For one thing, by way of example, you have to study great accuracy and exactness in all your expositions of scriptural dogmas. You are aware that in assailing Avhat they are fond of stigmatising as Puritanism or Calvinism, our opponents, for the most part, aim at success through the grossest misrepresentations and offensive caricatures of the tenets which we hold ; some of them doubtless sinning ignorantly in this ; others, however, I am afraid, sinning wilfully. I am willing to make allowance for the entire absence of anything deserving the title of theological teaching or training in such a body as the Established Church of England, and to ascribe to that cause the shameful and 460 APPENDIX. profane language often used in speaking of the received doctrine of the Atonement, and other doctrines connected more or less closely with it. That circumstance, however, does not render my caution and counsel to you the less necessary. For, beyond all question, the persons I have in my eye have been able to lay their fingers on such unwise and unsafe utterances, on the part of the defenders of these gospel mysteries, as may afford some ground for their ridicule or resentment. Ehetorical appeals and pictures may occur in the course of a flood of fervid eloquence, which, in a time of excitement, and in presence of an enthusiastic audience, convey no impression but that of divine reality and truth, — which, however, when calmly weighed, may call up images and associations the reverse of salutary, and may admit of being twisted into an evil guise. I urge, therefore, the duty of caution and circumspection in the use of current theological terms and formulas, and the necessity of bearing always in mind the art, or the ignorance, which in various ways is doing mischief, — say, for instance, in the way of putting a heathen gloss on the evangelical doctrines of atonement and mediation, or in the way of ascribing to the great truths on the subject of imputation and justification which the Eeformers vindi- cated, the reproach of being like mercantile trafficking, or the sophistry of a legal fiction. With due regard, however, to such considerations, let it be your constant aim to hold forth the " common salvation " strongly, clearly, unambiguously, in all its breadth and freedom. Be not ashamed of the cross, in which you must be ever glorying. And in all your doctrinal statements, make it palpably plain that it is salvation in Christ, not salvation through Christ, that you preach. Let the root of all personal religion be the personal union of the believer and the object of his faith. Be true to our standards, as well as to Scripture, in making all turn or hinge on the real APPENDIX. 461 vital, divine unity which the Spirit effects between the Saviour and every saved soul. " And now, brethren, I commend you to God, and to the word of his grace, which is able to build you up, and to give you an inheritance among all them which are sanctified." — I am, yours truly, EoB. S. Candlish. Edinburgh, March 1872. L— CLOSING ADDRESS. ' Session 1870-71. I DESIRE to offer a few remarks on the subject of preaching ; in answer to the question, What is the preacher's function 1 I. He has a message to deliver. He is an ambassador for Christ. Never, on any account, let him forget that. It is the distinctive feature and attribute of his office or calling. It is, in logical phrase, its differential quality ; the essential characteristic by which it is separated from all other functions which men may have to exercise in the service of God, and of their fellow men. To give instruction, to convey informa- tion, to investigate, elucidate, and explain difficult problems in theology and religion, as in other sciences and arts ; — to open up the Scri^itures, and unfold in an orderly way their inexhaustible fulness of grace and truth as containing, all throughout, the unsearchable riches of Christ ; — to discuss controverted questions and establish dogmatical conclusions ; — to be the expositor and defender of the whole truth as it is in Jesus ; — these all, and more than these, are works within the sphere of the preacher's province. It is his right and his duty to handle all these themes or topics, largely and freely, according to the word of God. Nor is there any risk of his thereby turning tlie evangelistic pulpit into a quasi- academic cliair ; if only he keep always in view that, above all these matters, and subordinating them all to itself, there is the commission with which he is charged, whenever, in his special vocation of preacher, he opens his mouth ; the com- APPENDIX. 463 mission to deliver a message from God to those whom he is addressing — a personal message, from God personally, to each one of them personally. The preacher must have this always in his view ; all through his discourse, and all through his treatment of any of those themes which his discourse may embrace. For this view of his office does not, I repeat, limit the range of the preacher's function as a teacher, bound to declare the entire Name of the Lord, and entitled, therefore, to deal with " all that whereby God maketh himself known." He is entitled to bring in, as parts or elements of his dealing for God with men, not only all such Scriptural narratives, parables, proverbs, but also all such rational illustrations and analogies, as he can turn to account in the way of unfolding the charac- ter, plans, and methods of him whose messenger he is. But let him always and in everything magnify his office. Let him see to it that he is always and in everything asserting his position ; as being not merely an exhibitor and explainer of the nature of the Most High, but a real ambassador on his behalf to men. One thing, however, this principle or practice demands. The preacher's trumpet must give no uncertain sound. He must not come forth from God to his fellowmen without a clear and definite message. If he holds and argues that there are no fixed dogmas in theology ; no fixed principles in religion ; no facts in Christology which, if admitted, must become doctrines ; if he boastfully professes that he cannot tell where theology ends and religion begins, or how much of theology may or must enter into religion, or how much of religion may or must admit of being formulated in theologi- cal,— that is, logical and intelligible, — propositions ; if, in a word, he is in a position to tell his audience little more than this, — that definition of saving truth is difficult and danger- ous ; and that sincerity in any view of Christ or Christian 464 APPENDIX. doctrine is saving faith ; — he may have much to say about Christ. But he can scarcely be an ambassador of Christ ; having a specific message from Christ to deliver to the people. He may, in a sense, preach Christ. And there is more of such preaching of Christ now than there was in the days when Hugh Blair's moral essays found favour in Scotland, and when Bishop Horsley stigmatised a large section of the clergy in England as apes of Epictetus. A discourse with- out Christ in it would scarcely now be tolerated. But how is he presented and held forth 1 Is it Christ elevated in the host ] Is it Christ mysteriously materialised in the mass ? Is it Christ given in a wafer, and eaten with fasting hps 1 Is it Christ exhibited and presented in some poor, half-credu- lous mimicry of that gorgeous Eoman idolatry 1 Or, again, is it Christ brought in as the centre of subtle analysis or philoso- phical disquisition ; a name with which to conjure in handling ideal theories of the universe of God, and the nature of man 1 Or finally, is it Christ, giving me, the preacher, a definite and explicit message to deliver to you the hearers, on his authority, and with his peremptory demand for a reply 1 This last method alone is a real preaching of the gospel ; a real preaching of Christ. I personally am commissioned and charged by Christ personally, to deliver a message to you personally. The transaction is personal throughout ; doubly personal ; personal in both its stages. There is a personal dealing of Christ with me ; like Isaiah's divine interview "with Jehovah (chap, vi.) ; when he saw the Lord in the glory of his majesty, his grace, his holiness ; and, — smitten with a sense of uncleanness, — purged by an atoning touch, and quickened by a pardoning word, — was constrained by love-begotten love to cry, Here am " I, send me ! " There is personal dealing there ! "Would that I could always apprehend it as real in my case ; every time I APPENDIX. 465 open my lips to any one poor sinner ; every time I ascend the pulpit steps to address the great congregation in the name and on behalf of Christ. Then would my address to them be sufficiently personal too ; as personal as my present and immediate commission from him. I would speak as if it were not I, but Christ speaking in me. And he spoke as one having authority. He had a message from heaven to earth, — from God to men ; — not merely to make discoveries of the essence, attributes, and operations of Deity ; far less to raise and leave unfixed general questions or problems as to man's constitutional reli- gous tendencies, and the sorts of spiritual treatment they may severally require or admit ; but to propose and make pro- "vdsion for the distinct personal adjustment of the relation of every man, individually and personally, to God his Father. That was his personal ministry in preaching. Did it want breadth, or liberty, or variety 1 Did it want these qualities when it became his preaching in Paul, or John, or Peter 1 Was it a monotonous whine, or an endless uniformity of mere beseeching 1 Was it a Pagan ini - like harping on a single violin-string ] Nay. The message to be delivered is of such a sort as to admit of all but endlessly diversified modes of thought and speech in the delivery of it. Over the whole wide field of nature the preacher may roam ; all things in heaven and earth are his — the sun, the moon, the still and starry firmament, the cloudy sky, the rolling thunder, the raging waves, the quiet breath of spring ; the green and tender grass, the flowers of the field, the trees of the forest, the lofty mountains, the lowly vales ; the fowls of the air also, the beasts that roam the desert, the domestic tribes, — all the works of God are at your command, for illustration, ornament, and appeal. The entire range of human experi- ence, the vicissitudes of human life, the rich resources of human history over all the world and through all the ages, 2 H 466 APPENDIX. are freely open to you. Nor need you hesitate to draw materials of analogy from the freshest discoveries of science and the most ingenious inventions of art. Then how mani- fold must your pleading be if you are masters alike of the divine message which you have to deliver, and the human heart which it is meant to touch ! Argument, instruction, expostulation; admonition, reproof; nay, even ridicule' and sarcasm at times ; terrible and cutting irony ; affectionate remonstrance ; tremblingly-uttered threats ; vivid painting of the open heart of God, and the blessedness of being his ; — ■ these and many other similar instruments of persuasion you have to wield at will. How should there then be any lack of varied interest in your discourse 1 There can be none if it is scriptural, for there is no lack of varied interest in Scripture ; and all Scripture is yours, to be used by you in your calling. Only remember that all Scripture testifies of Christ. And not of Christ as an object of sentimental affection or the poetic rapture of imagination ; vague and abstract ; the ideal divine man ; the restorer of manhood generally ; to be welcomed as such gratefully and gladly, though without the need of any very exact conception of what he is to me personally, and what he does for me per- sonally. 'No. But of Christ, true Son of God, executing a definite purpose, finishing an actual work. You are am- bassadors of this Christ. You are charged by him with a message concerning himself and the Father, who defined the purpose he had to accomplish, and gave him his work to do. Magnify your office in that character. Never pen a single sentence, never speak a single word of your sermon, without having this great thought full in your mind and heart : I have here and now a message to each and all of my hearers ; — a manifold message in one sense ; of varied application to different classes and different cases ; but at bottom one and the same to the whole. " As an ambassador of Christ, I pray you, in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to God." APPENDIX. 467 II. The preacher, in delivering his message, is not alone. He has a Divine Person associated with him, the Holy Ghost. He is to apprehend and feel that fact all through- out his preaching. I do not here speak of the help which you are entitled to expect from the blessed Spirit in the preparation of your discourse in the closet and in the study. Your prayer in the closet, your reading, thinking, composing, in the study, are of the Spirit, if they are real. In some sense, a discourse thus prepared is the production of the Spirit. It is the Spirit working in j'ou, and so causing you to work with fear and trembling. Would to God that no sermon were ever otherwise made 1 But I wish rather to advert at present to another view of the Spirit's presence and co-operation with you in the discharge of your office of messenger or ambassador ; a view which, if vividly realised, will materially affect, indeed, your preparation of your discourse, but which directly bears more upon your delivery of it. There is a gracious promise given by Christ to his disciples when he was about to leave them alone in the world, exposed to the world's hostility on account of their witness-bearing for him (John xv. 27; xvi. 11). While they are bearing witness of him, there is another also who is bearing witness of him ; the Comforter, the Holy Ghost. The two witness-bearings differ from one another. The disciples testify outwardly, by words and signs, to the world, to men. The Holy Spirit testifies inwardly, by a work in the world, in men. This is a very encouraging, but also a very solemnising assurance to every faithful herald of the cross. Let me place any one of you in the pulpit, with a discourse prepared in the presence and with the help of the Holy Spirit, — prayed for in the closet, waited for and felt in the study. Have you done with him now, as regards yourself personally ? Can you dispense with his presence 468 APPENDIX. and his help in your own soul, as you stand face to face before that sea of expecting faces 1 'No. You need him almost more than ever, that he may enable you to forget yourself in your audience, and in the message of the Lord which you have to deliver to them ; that you may speak to them from the heart ; not with stammering lips, but with holy boldness ; Avith the mild majesty and meekness and gentleness of him in whose name you speak. But even this is not exactly what I desire to bring out. At the very moment when you are delivering the message to your hearers, the Holy Spirit is moving among them, upon them, within them. You speak; he works. And his working goes along with your speaking. Surely this is a very awful position for you, for me, to occupy. That the infinite, almighty Spirit of the Most High, and I, — a poor sinner, scarcely saved myself through the rich mercy of God, — should be, — in a manner so close, intimate and personal, — fellow-labourers, true yoke-fellows, joined in so real a partnership in the house and business of God ; that while I am dealing with the message, — handling it, with his help, as best I may, — pressing it home, with all the power and pathos I can command, on the consciences and hearts of the men before me ; he also is dealing with that selfsame 'message, cutting a way for it through the callous conscience and rocky heart, into the deep recess of the inner man, where sits and reigns the lordly will ! No doubt, in one aspect of it this thought or belief is fitted to minister to me strength, comfort, and hope, in the dehvery of my message. It is an assurance which I sorely need, and should most thankfully embrace. But for it, I cannot but despair. If, indeed, the ordinance of preaching is a mere spiritual entertainment, or a pleasant and profit- able exercise of the higher faculties in speculations about all things in heaven and earth, as in some quarters it threatens APPENDIX. 469 to become ; or if it is thrust aside as an ordinary means of grace and salvation, and made to give place to sacramental and sacerdotal observances ; — then I may take the matter easily enough. If, however, it is a message to be delivered ; a message about which God is deeply in earnest, and upon which men's destinies depend ; — when I think what little Aveight my words can have, — or, indeed, any words, be they uttered by angels' tongues, — to tell upon the dull cold ear of apathy and sloth, — how little capable they are of adequately setting forth that love of him who gives the message which, rightly urged, should melt and break the very stones, — how can I but cling to this promise of the Spirit's effectual inward co-operation, which alone can meet and solve the despairing cry, — "All day long I have stretched forth my hands unto a disobedient and gainsaying people " ? But, while thus, in one aspect of it, this assurance is most cheering and encouraging, in another, it is deeply solemnising. And the solemnising effect of it is felt all the more when we bear in mind that the promise on which it is founded is limited. It is not a promise of such a co-opera- tion of the Spirit, — working inwardly in those to whom I bear witness or deliver a message from Avithout, — as shall absolutely secure my success, in the best and highest sense of the term ; in their being actually converted and saved. It reaches only to conviction. He Avill convince ; not, he will convert. It is a work of conviction that, according to the promise, he carries on in a parallel line, as it were, with the word which I speak, as Avitnessing of Christ and deliver- ing a message from him and about him. I may warrantably hope that in many instances the Spirit will convince so as to convert, and thus secure for my message, not aAvukening and anxiety merely, troubling the conscience, but acqui- escence and consent also, giving peace to the heart. But I 470 APPENDIX. have no absolute assurance of that ; nor have I any probable reason to believe that even the Spirit's work of conviction will be co-extensive with my witness-bearing or my delivery of my message. Whole congregations may retire, unmoved and unimpressed ; the Spirit of the Lord being straitened for my sin and for theirs. Still, there is the general rule or law, that the Spirit works conviction in those to whom I testify. It is a gracious adaptation. And it may partly explain some of the phenomena of a religious revival. As the fruit of a faithful ministry, — or as the cause of it, — simultaneously with a fresh life in the preaching of the gospel to the people, there comes a wide and deep working of the Spirit in the people. And what is the immediate result, in terms of the promise 1 Conviction merely ; con- viction of the sin of unbelief in connection with a present righteousness and a coming judgment. The conviction may not issue in conversion. There may be travailing in the womb, and no new birth. And this very repression may cause pains and convulsions. There may be vehement agitations of mind, violent contortions of body, bringing a scandal on the wliole movement. And yet it may be a real movement of the Spirit after all ; proved to be real by the numbers, larger or smaller, of those who are at once brought, through the simple message of the gospel, to a simple resting on Christ, and a quiet peace in believing ; until soon, when all the chaff that had been stirred flies away and subsides, the good and fruitful seed remains and grows apace. But, apart from such seasons of well-marked revivals, coming back to the ordinary routine, — the case of a preacher deliver- ing his sermon as a real message from God, — let me ask if there is not something very awe-inspiring in the thought that, if all is rightly ordered, his feeble word, spoken with fear and trembling, has in strict alliance and connection with it the mighty working of the Holy Ghost ; softening APPENDIX. 471 the Lard wax, wliich lie is trying to impress with tlie divine seal ; melting the cold iron, on which he seeks to impose the heavenly mould. It is a thought that may well cause increased fear and trembling. That he should be standing in the pulpit alongside, as it were, of the Spirit ; and when he opens his mouth thence to the people, the Spirit should fly thence, in haste to work among the people ; convincing many, converting some ? It enhances greatly the anxiety which Paul felt when he said, " We are a savour of death unto death, as well as of life unto life." We are so, as being ourselves witnesses for Christ, delivering a message which must either kill or cure ; which, if rejected, is death, and, if accepted, is salvation. We are so much more, as being not alone in witnessing and delivering the message, but having the Spirit co-operating with us in a work of con- viction that must either lead to gracious and saving conver- sion, or sink the soul that resists in the hopeless gloom of the Spirit's final withdrawal, and the consummation which that entails. Now, it is in the view of its bei-ng such a message from God, and a message involving such responsibilities and issues, that you must seek always to prepare and deliver your discourse. These solemn views of preaching must be ever before your eye. The earlier you become impressed with them the better. They are your best, your only safe- guards against perfunctory or merely professional preparation. They cut up by the roots the miserable practice of mechani- cal sermon-making. They cast you at once into the arms of that divine Spirit whose joy it is to testify of Christ ; to take of what is Christ's, and show it unto men ; to glorify Christ alone. III. One practical counsel more let me give, as a sort of corollary from the views I have been suggesting. In your 472 APPENDIX. whole work of preparation and delivery, see that you have ever steadily before you, in your mind's eye, a real, living audience. In the penning of your first sentence, conjure up for yourself listeners, hearers, real or imaginary ; and throw yourself into the attitude and spirit of a witness-bearer to them, the deliverer of a message to them. Let your solitary chamber be thronged with living faces, looking and waiting to hear what you have to say as Christ's ambassador to them. Write as if you were actually face to face with them ; speak- ing to them as a man speaks to his friends. Sometimes you may set before you an individual to be appealed to and dealt with. To obviate all risk of a charge of personality, it may be safest and best to let that individual be yourself. Pre- pare the sermon first for yourself. Preach it first to your- self. Deliver the message first to yourself. Then, as taking it home primarily to yourself, you will find yourselt all the better able and all the better entitled to press it home upon your fellows. Another end also may be thus incidentally served. It is said, and truly said, that one of the most im- portant elements or conditions of good preaching is a know- ledge of human nature ; an intimate acquaintance with the workings and windings of the human heart. And many seem to think that this can be best acquired, or indeed can only be acquired, by a large induction founded on a wide ex- perience of the world, its men, its maxims, and its ways. If what is sought is what Lord Chesterfield tried to teach his unhappy boy, that notion may be correct. But if I wish to learn what man is, or what is in man, for the purposes of gospel preaching and the delivery of my message from God, I had better tarry at home than range far and wide abroad. In that view, the study of myself is my best way of studying mankind ; and when I bring the message to bear personally and particularly on myself, — on my own sins and sorrows, and wants and fears, and loves and hates, and hopes and joys APPENDIX. 473 — on the manifold moods and experiences of my own soul, I am equipping and accomplishing myself in the very best way possible for wielding that message as my weapon in dealing with all sorts of men and all sorts of cases. For in me, as in a microcosm, in my bosom, agitated by every in- fluence that can reach me from above, from around, from be- neath, all that is in any man may in a sense be found. Ob- serving the movements of my own consciousness and con- science, in the searching light of God's holy word, I can un- derstand and enter into all the frames and feelings in others with which the gospel has to deal. Let me then be always applying to myself, in the first instance, the text I have chosen for my discourse, and gathering out of it the message God has in it specially to me. Let me habitually adopt that method in every sermon I compose. It will wonderfully enlarge and deepen my sympathising insight into the heart of God and the heart of man, and into the fitness and adapta- tion of all that God reveals of his heart to all that is to be discovered in man's. I come to know both of them, by personal insight and experience, through the Spirit's teaching. And so I learn to speak because I believe, — to testify of what I have seen and heard. IL— OPENING ADDRESS. Session 1871-72. An indispensable qualification of an ambassador is loyalty. It is especially so when the embassy is from heaven, and in the name of heaven's Lord. I wish to say something upon that qualification that may be seasonable and suitable to your calling and preparation for the Christian ministry. 474 APPENDIX. This loyalty, as I take it, is something different from love, or something more than love. It assumes love. It has love as its basis and its vital principle throughout. Love is its motive power and living influence. It is nothing if it is not loving. It is itself love in its highest mode of action. It has in it, however, a certain royal element, chivalrous, single-eyed, forgetful of all else than what is due to the one object of its devoted allegiance, and enthusiastic about that. There may be real love lacking this element, or having it only imperfectly. The love of sentiment, or of impulse and emotion, or of gratitude, or of complacency, good-liking or good-will, — may be real, and, so far as it goes, strong. But the full strength of love is loyalty. That is perfect loA'^e. Now, I wish to illustrate and enforce this view, in con- nection with some of the more important departments of theological study and ministerial work, and to show how a spirit of loving loyalty may carry, and how that alone can carry, a student and a worker through, or over, not a few e mbarrassments. I. I begin briefly with the revelation which God has given to us in Scripture. I assume that you are satisfied, on good and sufficient ground, as to the authenticity and authority of the sacred books, and that you cordially accept the Bible as being the AVord of God. You accept it ' bona fide, as not discovered by you, but given to you in common with all mankind. You are not in the secret of its prepara- tion or compilation. You have no knowledge beforehand of the principles upon which it is put together ; the plan accord- ing to which it is framed and fashioned. Its author, the Holy Ghost, — the one author throughout, though employing manifold agencies and instrumentalities, — has not explained his method a ])7-iori. You have the product ; his finished work of authorship ; the Word of God. "With full faith you APPENDIX. 475 receive it as such. You fully and firmly admit the author- ship. And now, I ask, What is the attitude which becomes you, if you would be loyal in this matter to him whose word it is 1 For one thing, such loyalty should surely inspire calm courage and confidence, amid whatever rough handling this holy thing may meet with, in the midst of unholy strifes and collisions, — or, let me say, putting it more mildly, whatever shocks this divine and heavenly thing may encounter in its contact with human and earthly movements. There should be an entire absence of haste, irritation, over-sensitiveness. Any inclination to oppose or limit free inquiry, or free specu- lation, in any line fiiirly open to human research, should be resisted. Any dread, — any jealousy or resentment of results should be repudiated. The fact, that the divine revelation of saving truth from age to age was never meant to supersede or to fetter human study in its attempts to penetrate and es- timate the unfolding secrets of nature, must be frankly ad- mitted and fully acted upon. The loyalty of a loving son, accepting his father's deed of settlement as authentic and valid, will sustain him in a patient confidence amid all the vexatious questions that lynx-eyed legal subtlety may suggest. He will not press for a premature discussion or solution. He will be content to Avait for further light ; whether it may fall on the scruples and objections raised, or on the interpretation of some portions of the document called in question. Mean- while, his loyal faith in the document and in its author is not shaken or even touched. He knows that it is his Father's voice to which he listens ; that it is his Father's message which he has to deliver. "With all confidence and with all authority he can still use the august formula — " Thus saith the Lord." Sitting loose, in large measure, — or rather free from anxiety, — as to the progress of investigation, whether biblical or scientific, he is right loyal in his firm and sure belief that 476 APPENDIX. all will end well ; that a harmonious adjustment of all diffi- culties will be the happy result of whatever misunderstandings may now disturb the atmosphere of philosophical and theo- logical thought. And, meanwhile, he is thoroughly and con- fidingly loyal in his conviction that he really has the truth of God to believe and teach. II. There is need of loyalty in the assertion and exercise of the preacher's function as an ambassador of God to men individually. I use this last word advisedly and .'emphatically. In preaching the gospel, we have to address multitudes and masses of men, and, in a sense, to address them collectively or miscellaneously. But we have no collective or miscel- laneous method of salvation to propose. We have no mes- sage to any crowd, as such. Our message is to every one in the crowd ; separately and personally ; to every man, woman, and child ; isolated and apart. True, we cannot feather the arrow, or give it its aim to the particular person it is meant to hit. For all that, we look out of and above ourselves. We look to the Holy Spirit, our co-witness ; whose office it is to deal directly Avitli the conscience, heart, and will ; and to fasten the convincing and converting barb in the soul that is to be pierced and saved. Our preaching, however, must proceed upon the firm faith of its being the divine pur- pose and method to save men, by means of it, one by one ; not through any wholesale process, or general amnesty and jail-delivery, as it were ; but by means of a special dealing with every one criminal, every one prisoner, alone ; — a special negotiation with him of pardon, peace, and reconciliation, as if he were really alone, the only one in all the prison-cells. Now, what tries and tests our loyalty here is, to a large extent, a certain prevalent and somewhat plausible line of thought and tone of feeling in the current literature of our APPENDIX. 477 day. Some leading thinkers, as they are fond of calling them- selves and one another, in influential periodicals and publica- tions of various kinds, grave and gay, have got into the way of stigmatising evangelical religion, or, as they are very fond of calling it, Calvinism, with the brand of selfishness. It is self-preservation merely that we Evangelicals or Calvinists care for ; that, in the first instance, always first ; and then, perhaps, as the utmost stretch of our benevolent aspirations, the salvation of a select few, who may plume themselves along with us on being heaven's favourites themselves, while coolly consigning the mass of their fellow-men to ruin. Deferring the question of the issue or result of gospel preaching, I would speak for a Kttle of its character and nature considered in itself. Is it really open to the charge of heartless selfishness, be- cause it calls upon every sinner individually to make the sav- ing of his own soul his first concern ? I must show how the issue is thus raised ; first, in the light of mere secularism ; and then more theologically. (I.) " ;Man is for Mr. Carlyle, as for the Calvinistic theo- logian, a fallen and depraved being, without much hope, ex- cept for a few of the elect." So one of our most advanced thinkers writes, in an Essay on the Chelsea Philosopher, forming part of his Critical Miscellanies (Morley, p. 240). He makes an admission : — Mr. Carlyle has indeed written that generation stands indissolubly woven with generation ; " how Ave inherit not Life only, but all the garniture and form of Life ; and work and speak, and even think and feel, as our fathers and primeval grandfathers from the beginning have given it to us ; how ' mankind is a living indivisible whole.' Even this, however, with the ' literal communion of saints ' which follows in connection with it, is only a detached suggestion ; not incorporated with the body of the writer's (Carlyle's) doctrine. It does not neutralise the general lack 478 APPENDIX. of faith in the cultivable virtue of masses of men ; not the universal tone of humoristic cynicism with which all but a little band, the supposed salt of the earth, are treated." Then follows the sentence already quoted — " Man is for Mr. Carlyle, as for the Calvinistic theologian, a fallen and de- praved being, without much hope, except for a fcAV of the elect." Of course, I am not concerned about Mr. Morley's view of Carlyle's philosophy ; nor about the philosophy of Carlyle himself. I simply wish to indicate the common mode of re- garding and representing " Calvinistic Theology," — that is, evangelical religion, — which prevails in the circle of ad- vanced thinkers that such a writer as Morley may be held to represent. In that view, I quote from Morley's volume another notice of Carlyle as compared with Rousseau. He says, with reference to their comparative influence on their re- spective ages and^countries {p. 210) — " Rousseau's renovation was far more profoundly social than the doctrine of Mr. Carlyle, which, while in name a renunciation of self, has all its foundations in the purest individualism. ... It has all the fundamental egotism of the doctrine of personal salvation." This last idea is what I have now to do with ; " the fundamental egotism of the doctrine of personal salva- tion." Of course it is egotism in an evil sense. Once more, I cite a sentence from the author's comparison of Carlyle with Byron (p. 237) — "As a reaction against religious theories, which make humanity over-abound in self-confidence, and fill individuals with the strutting import- ance of creatures with private souls to save or lose, even such cynicism as Byron's Avas wl^olesome, and nearly forgivable." But Byron, and even Carlyle, failed, it seems, in " stirring in men and women, many or few, a deeper and more active sense of the worth and obligation and innumerable possi- APPENDIX. 479 bilities, not of their own little lives, one or another, but of life collectively ; . . . heightening the self-respect of the race." These are significant utterances. And they are current in a class of self-confident literateurs. (II.) On the other hand, from the theological point of view, there is a tendency in the same direction. Not to speak of what may be regarded perhaps by many as its foreign source and origin in the ideal philosophy of Kant, efflorescing into the vague spiritual mysticism of Schleier- macher ; — in our own country and in our own tongue, its influence may be traced from Coleridge downwards ; through men like Arnold in the first instance, and ultimately through men like Maurice ; as affecting largely an imposing school of religious thought. I give here a sentence or two from a work just published, which is, I am sure, destined to be classical and authoritative in theology ; the first volume of Dr. Hodge's Systematic Theology. In his elaborate and exhaustive Introduction, Dr. Hodge discusses briefly but clearly this phase of the theological mind, He connects it with the doctrine of Realism in the system of the schools ; not as if its advocates were always conscious of the connection ; but as for his own part tracing it to that paternity. And it would seem that he is right. The theology which he criticises does indeed tacitly assume the realism of abstract generalisations. For thus he speaks of it, when discussing Schleiermacher's theory of inspiration (p. 174): "God, in becoming man, did not take upon liimself a true body and a reasonable soul, but generic humanity ; i.e. humanity as a generic life. The effect of the incarnation was to unite the human and divine as one life. And this life passes over to the church, pre- cisely as the life of Adam passed over to his descendants, by a process of natural development. And this life is Chris- tianity. Participation in this divine-human life makes a 480 APPENDIX. man a Christian." Or, as Dr. Ullman, whom he quotes, puts it — " The ground and central point of Christianity is the oneness of Deity and humanity effected through the incarnation of God and deification of man." To the same effect, Dr. Hodge speaks again of (p. 176) "Eealists, who define man to be the manifestation of generic humanity in connection with a given corporeal organisation ; and who believe that it was generic humanity which Christ took and united in one life Avith his divine nature, — which life is communicated to the church as his body, and thereby to all its members." Now, I do not put upon the same level, or in the same category, these two influences ; the one simply secular, the other theological. But, unhappily, they concur and conspire. And, as is always the case in any such alliance, the secular turns to account the theological, more than the theo- logical the secular. It has become a cant or slang axiom in high literature, that to care for one's soul and for one's own personal salvation is the worst form of selfishness. By all means, let the race be redeemed, regenerated, glorified ; but not its individual members. I do not now stay to argue upon the merits of this theological anthropology. It may easily be shown to involve a notion of human nature that is very humiliating. It is so, because it touches, so as to degrade, human nature in its original state, irrespectively altogether of any fall. It assumes that man was made to be dealt with collectively and gregariously ; as mankind ; in the mass. Direct personal intercourse between God and the individual man it ignores and precludes. It divests man therefore of his indefeasible dignity ; the dignity which belongs to him essentially, and which no accident or fault can toiTch ; his being, in his own proper person ; — every man, individually ; — one with whom God can personally deal, and who can personally transact with God. That is APPENDIX. 481 the ground and reason of our appeal to men individually when we speak as the ambassadors of God. And it is what makes a demand upon our loyalty to God in our appeals to meu. For there is a subtle but strong temptation in the line of such thoughts as I have indicated. I am sorely pressed in spirit to give in to this cry of selfishness. It does look like mean egotism, or narrow individualism, that in a state of society teeming with general disorder, and rushing into general ruin, I should think it my duty to isolate myself, and make it my first and chief concern to save myself from this untoward generation, and make my own calling and election sure. Yes ; and that thereafter and thereupon I should make it my business, not to organise a general raid into the dark and cruel places of the earth, according to some large, wholesale plan, operating upon a multitude in mass ; — but to get one, and another, and a third, personally and individually, each to seek his or her own salvation. Surely the essence of such a gospel is pure selfishness. How am I to meet that imputation ? How am I to resist the tendency in my own heart to give way to it 1 Certainly there is a call for loyalty here. I may not reason ; I may not speculate, when thus painfully exercised. Better far to fall back on my allegiance to the King and Lord, the uniform of whose commission I wear. First and chiefly, let me bo sure of my loyalty as regards my own personal relation to God ; his dealing with me and my dealing with him personally ; person to person, face to face, in a private, personal audience. I am not to enlist under his banner in a crowd. I am not to be one of a multitude baptized into his name indiscriminately and wholesale. The oath of allegiance is not tendered to the army en masse, and to me, as lost in the miscellaneous host. It is an oath which I must loyally take as an individual ; an enlisted recruit ; a volunteer ; separately ; by myself ; 2 I 482 APPENDIX. alone. Yes ! Alone ; alone with him to -whom I swear ; or who swears me to himself ! Lovingly he does so ; most lovingly. Owning his own work in making me willing in the day of his power, — graciously taking me at my word when I am made willing by him to say, " Here am I, send me," — he seals the transaction, and hinds me to himself in covenant. It is a personal transaction between him and me. Yes ! It is a personal transaction. He receives me individually, and lays me under a vow more sacredly binding on me than any military oath. Thus personally and indi- vidually am I pledged to loyalty ; loyalty to the captain of my salvation ; the king and lord of my soul that he has redeemed ; of my whole being that he has purchased and conquered for himself. Only thus am I prepared and qualified for going forth, in fearless loyalty, along with him, as he goes forth, to subdue the people under him. In fear- less loyalty, I say. For I have full and loyal sympathy with him in his manner of subduing the people under him. I am not in haste for wholesale conquests. I am not incred- ulous of individual conversions. I recognise his purpose, his desire, to have sinners saved, — the enemies of God reconciled, — not in crowds — but singly ; one by one. It may be a fond and pleasing dream that I have to renounce when I cease to reckon on any gregarious or collective regeneration of humanity. But, reserving all my confidence, such as it is, in sundry indirect influences of Christianity, I do my master's work loyally, lovingly, hopefully, when I beseech men one by one to be reconciled to God ; each one for himself to be reconciled ; that so the kingdom may at last come, whose citizens are all holy ; and the temple be set up, every stone of which is pure and precious and perfect. III. The third and last view which I mean to suggest of the need of the loyalty I crave, has respect to the result APPENDIX. 483 or issue of the preaching of the gospel, or of the divine plan of which it forms the chief part. Here the strain, the stress of pressure on a loving and loyal heart, is apt to become very trying. And the trial is the more severe in these days, when it seems to be a special device of the great enemy, through his manifold agencies, to turn, if he can, the message of salvation into "tidings of damnation." It is no new device. The decorous moralist, Dr. Hugh Blair, is said to have suggested that phrase to Burns, as an amendment of a verse of his Holy Fair. The poet had written " salvation." The divine makes it, — " Kovv Moodie speels the holy door, Wi' tidings o' damnation." The present race of friends of culture and free thought are open-mouthed with the same cry. We poor preachers of the gospel are anathematised as men who revel in the idea of the vast majority of the human race being none the better, but rather all the worse, for the gospel which we preach ; who gloat over the horrid spectacle of an all but universal ruin ; while we hug ourselves in our security among a very few comparatively that are chosen and saved. Now, it is true that we must, with our convictions, face in the last resort an issue which they do not consider themselves called upon to contemplate, the condemnation of a portion, at least, — nay, let us say, a large portion, of mankind to eternal death. And the question of more or fewer may seem to us, as it really is, irrelevant or unimportant, since the difficulty, after all, lies in there being any. It is beside the question, therefore, to harp upon the subject of the lost being in our opinion numerous. Still, since a prejudice is created by the exaggerated representations of enemies, and sometimes by the unwise statements or admissions of friends of the truth, it may be well to indicate the real state of the question as on our side. And, with that view, a few facts and observa- tions may be brought forward. 484 APPENDIX. 1. T touch a dark and dread mystery when I advert to the state of heathen nations, ancient and modern, who have had no written revelation and no preaching of the gospeh Their case, as we are constrained to view it, is, if fully realised, such as may appal the stoutest heart, while it must move to tenderest pity and most strenuous effort. It is impossible to paint it in colours too black, or to dream of any reasonable or scriptural hope of salvation for mviltitudes of immortal souls perishing in gross darkness and vice. "We may indeed make some account, perhaps, of these two considerations : — First, That, believing, as we do, the common origin of all mankind, and their descent from a single pair, to whom and through whom divine communica- tions of law and grace were unquestionably made, we cannot say of any people that there may not be among them some faint remains, in their deepest degeneracy, of the primeval traditionary message ; and, secondly, that we cannot tell how small a portion of saving truth, lying hid in much error, the Holy Spirit, in the sovereignty and omnipotence of his merciful dispensation, may use and turn to account for good. But these considerations, whatever may be their value and bearing, cannot be felt by any of us to cast even a fitful gleam of light on the impenetrable gloom, or mitigate the pain and anguish which the thought of earth's dark places and their doomed inhabitants should call forth in our breasts. They have knowledge enough of God and duty, we are assured, to condemn them ; the light of nature, the voice of conscience, and the Lord's own original discovery of himself, leaving them without excuse. That is the fact on which alone we must ever dwell ; a fact which makes a demand upon our dumb and silent loyalty, such as only the strongest faith can enable us always to meet ; a fact which, when fully apprehended in all its overwhelming significancy, may well awaken emotions of awe and terror such as only the APPENDIX. 485 holiest sympathy with him who said, " Go ye into all the world," and the warmest and most loving zeal in obeying that great command, can in some tolerable measure practically assuage or soothe. 2. It is an easier and brighter theme I handle when T speak of the salvation of infants. I firmly believe that all who die in infancy are saved. " That," says Dr. Hodge (p. 27), " is the general belief of Protestants, contrary to the doctrine of Eomanists and Eomanisers," who, more or less categorically, connect salvation with baptismal grace. The belief rests chiefly on a fair and liberal interpretation of the comparison and contrast which Paul draws (Rom. v.) between the effect of Adam's sin and that of Christ's righte- ousness, and partly also on the Saviour's treatment of little children, and his acknowledgment of them as members of his kingdom. I have ventured elsewhere to indicate' an opinion that the death of infants is itself one of the results of redemption ; that it is in consequence and in virtue of Christ's substitu- tionary work that any die in infancy ; and that, if there had been no such work, all born of Adam would have lived on the earth long enough to manifest and consummate their original sin by actual transgressions ; the earth being in that case spared, not as now in gracious, but in judicial forbear- ance, till that result was accomplished. I give it not cer- tainly as an article of faith, but as a probable opinion, deriving some considerable support from particular statements of the divine word, as well as from general vieAvs of the principles of the divine plan of salvation. To my mind, at least, it is a most welcome and blessed thought that all the countless multitude of babes who in all ages and in all countries have, by whatever means, whether decay of nature or violence of man, been snatched prematurely, as we say, ^ In my book upon the Atonement, pages 180, etc., edition 1861. . 486 APPENDIX. from the fond maternal bosom or the cold cruelty of crime, have been specially given by the Father to the Son, as the recompense of his obedience, and the fruit of the travail of his soul, to be taken by him from the evil to come on earth ; taken to be trained and nurtured in the school and home of heaven. The fact, at any rate, that all who die in infancy are saved we all believe ; and it surely helps our loyalty, required to acquiesce in so much that is dark as regards the prospects of our race, to dwell on that bright belief. Nor need we be much moved by the poor and miserable cavil which would twist the words, — " Elect infants, dying in infancy," in our Confession, into an argument against the doctrine of their universal salvation. The article in our creed may not positively assert the doctrine ; I give no judgment upon that point. But it argues the profoundest ignorance or the grossest unfairness, to allege that it denies or contradicts the doctrine. Every intelligent student knows that creeds and confessions arise out of the necessity of guarding the truth against error, and are compiled with a view to that end. The honest way, therefore, of interpreting any passage in any one of them is to ask, Against what error is it directed 1 To what heresy does it point 1 Plainly and undeniably, in the present instance, the error or heresy meant to be condemned is that of holding that infants dying in infancy are saved " in respect of their natural innocency and purity, irrespectively of the electing love of the Father, the redeeming work of the Son, and the regenerating grace of the Holy Spirit." The initial word " elect," and all the subsequent words in the section, repudiate that infidel notion. They place the salva- tion of infants on the scriptural footing. They do that ; and they do nothing more than that. 3. Another cheering topic may be briefly noticed. The present rate at which additions are made to the church of such as shall be saved, — which may be regarded as having been APPENDIX. 487 too long and too generally the average rate, — is not that to which alone we are to look as providing for the peopling of heaven with redeemed men. In the past, from the days of Enos, when men began to call on the name of the Lord, downwards, through repeated seasons of revival, to the coming of the Lord ; and thence again forward and onward, through the Pentecostal work, Eeformation awakenings, and other subsequent visitations of grace on a larger or smaller scale, — specimens have been given, and they are only specimens, of what is to be looked for in the latter times, when a nation shall be born in a day, — when the fulness of the Gentiles shall come in, — when Israel's restoration shall be as life from the dead, — when Satan shall be bound, and millennial pro- sperity and peace shall reign. What may be the measure of the Spirit's effusion then, — how great the company of those Avho spread abroad the word, — how accelerated the speed of men running to and fro in the world, — how vast the numbers springing up everywhere to sing songs of praise ; — when the whole earth, becoming the garden of the Lord, is indeed a nursery for heaven ; — who can tell ? Enough to know that betsveen now and then it will not always be a day of small things. I have adverted to these encouraging thoughts, as some- what relaxing, so to speak, the strain upon our loyalty ; because it seems right to relieve our evangelical Calvinistic faith from the charge of being a mere gloomy and morose fanaticism, in the representation it makes of the condition and prospects of the human race. It is the fashion to stig- matise our system of doctrine as mercilessly exclusive ; con- fining the chance or possibility of salvation within the narrowest possible limits ; holding out hope to a very few, a mere handful, a small infinitesimal minority of mankind ; and leaving the vast majority, almost the whole mass, to perish helplessly by an ii-reversible decree or an inevitable 488 APPENDIX. doom. And it must be acknowledged that in a few Calvinistic writings, of considerable authority, unguarded and incautious expressions do occasionally occiir ; unduly exaggerating the number of the lost, and dwelling with needless and unwar- rantable reiteration on the exceeding fewness of the saved. This tendency may arise perhaps from natural temperament, inclining men to look too much on the dark side of things ; or from their pressing beyond its fair meaning the Lord's warn- ing about the two gates ; or from a desponding and perhaps morbid feeling, like that of Elijah, despairing of his age and country, ignorant of the thousands still remaining true to their God ; or from the absence at times of that large and wide sympathy which grasps the purpose of God to gather into one all things in Christ. Still a prejudice is thus created in men's minds against the truth of God. And the prejudice may be fostered by too much being made, and erroneously made, of expressions occurring even in our standards. For instance, the word " some," as used in stating the doctrine of election, is apt to be made an offence in ill- affected quarters, and even perhaps to stagger honest minds ; as if it meant a feAV, only a few, a very few. I need not say that it has not at all necessarily that meaning, nor would it, as I think, when originally employed, have suggested that idea. At the same time, I must confess that I have often wished that some other mode of expressing the truth had occurred to the Westminster Divines. I was greatly delighted, accordingly, when a few years ago I lighted on the phraseology adopted in the Confession of Faith of the Calvinistic Methodists in Wales. Here is their article (12), headed, "Of the Election of Grace." *' God from eternity elected Christ to be a covenant head, a mediator, and a surety to his church ; to redeem and to save it. God also elected in Christ a countless multitude out of every tribe, tongue, people, and nation, to holiness and ever- APPENDIX. 489 lasting life ; and every means were employed to effect this puriwse most securely. This election is eternal, righteous, sovereign, unconditional, peculiar or personal, and unchange- able. It wrongs none. Though God has justly left some without being elected, he has not wronged them ; they are in the same condition as if there had been no election ; and had there been no election, no flesh had been saved." Thus, by placing in the forefront Christ, the elect of the Father, and then all the rest of the elect in him, the full wonder of God's comprehensive grace is brought out. The wide and free flow is unembarrassed and unimpeded. The limitation is put in the form of a vindication of God's justice. The main stress is laid on the election being the election of Christ, and therefore, in him, of a "countless multitude ;" in whom he sees of the travail of his soul, and is satisfied. I hold our statement to be equivalent to that of our "Welsh Calvinistic and Presbyterian friends, although I greatly pre- fer theirs. It is their spontaneous and original utterance. For, in the constituting of their church they adopted neither creed nor government from any outward source, or under any outward influence ; but from their own study of the Bible brought out for themselves Calvinism and Presbyterianism ; Charles of Bala, and others of like mind, being their chief human guides, under whose auspices, originally and freshly, tlieir Calvinistic Confession of Faith was drawn up, and their substantially Presbyterian manner of administration organised. But I must return, in a few closing sentences, to my sub- ject. With all the explanations and qualifications which I have ventured to suggest, the office to Avhich we are called, as preachers of the gospel, demands no ordinary amount of loyalty. It is an ofiice which we have to execute very much in the dark. Kot that there is any darkness as to the mess- age which we have to deliver, or the name and authority in 2k 490 ' APPENDIX. whicli we hare to deliver it. No. But thick darkness veils the issues, and the elements of sovereignty and power on which the issues depend. I desire here to make my concluding application as per- sonal, as well as practical, as I can. I speak for myself while I speak to you. I urge the paramount importance of our loyally giving the first place always to God in the dis- charge of our ministry, — in the preaching of the word. He is our master. We are his ambassadors. It is for him that we act. tl is on his behalf that we treat with our fellow- sinners. We are the men of his secret. We stand in his counsel. Let us give good heed, let us look well to it, that we be thoroughly, unreservedly, fearlessly, and uncompro- misingly on his side, in the great controversy which he has with men, and which, partly through our instrumentality, he would have amicably settled. Let us keep steadily before our eyes, as our first and chief concern, what is due to him, to his name, his kingdom, his will ; his character and claims ; his authority and law. To that high end, every other con- sideration, even the salvation of precious souls, must be se- condary and subordinate. Let God be true, and every man a liar. Let God be magnified, and the guilty perish. Let the hallowing of his name, the coming of his kingdom, the doing of his will, take precedence of all human interests, the highest and the dearest. Let us ever consult for the Creator's glory in preference even to the creature's good. To carry out this loyal principle, to cherish this loyal spirit, is no easy attainment. Flesh and blood often rebel against it. Our best affections often rebel against it. We may not be, in the ordinary sense, mcn-pleasers or time-servers. We may have no bye-ends of our own to seek. We may court no man's fiivour. We may fear no man's frown. These, in- deed, are temptations to unfaithfulness, which are ever beset- ting us, and against which we need to be ever watching and APPENDIX. 491 praying. But we may be resisting and withstanding all such influences, and yet not be true to our high calling, and thoroughly loyal to our God. A far sorer trial may be solicit- ing us ; the sort of trial which these aflfecting words may in- dicate : "Jesus, beholding him, loved him." The sad, sad case of one, " almost persuaded," — " not far from the kingdom of God," — may be touching your tender heart. Or Jeru- salem doomed may be drawing tears from your aching eyes. You may not utter a word in disparagement of Jehovah's righteousness. You may give no sign, you may drop no hint, in the line of any concession or surrender. But ah ! the yearning of your pained and grieved soul may cause an inward faltering, — a secret shrinking, — a hidden wish. On the instant your power is gone. Something about you, — your trembling lips, — your hesitating tongue, — betrays your weakness. God's own Spirit in you is on the point of leav- ing you, and the lie of the devil is again soliciting you, — in your brother's case perhaps first, and then in your own, — tin; fatal lie, " Ye shall not surely die." The Lord give us grace to be loyal ; so that our ministry may be such as to warrant our adoption of Paul's words at its close, " I take you to record this day that I am pure from the blood of all men, for I have not shunned to declare unto you the whole counsel of God." Printed by R. & R. Ct-ARK, Edhiltir^k. "7^ DATE DUE rr '- **■ ' ' . * »■ f 7-^ "'.■ . ..■V--. »^ GAYLORO PRINTEO IN U.y.A. ^