_morally_ or _mystically_; with his characteristic virtues, or in his
peculiar typical place. But we have not quite done with him yet.
He was, I would now add, _a great weeper_.
Paul says that he was "mindful" of Timothy's tears; and there were many
tears in the eyes of Joseph which we might well be mindful of. David and
Jonathan were weepers, as well as Paul and Timothy. But were I careful
to do so, I might claim it for Joseph, that he exceeded them all. The
occasions of his tears were more various. And indeed it is an earnest,
real, and hearty flow of affections that we have to covet in the midst
of the more cultivated and orderly attainments of this day. Tears are
ofttimes precious things, and sometimes sacred too.
At the beginning, when Joseph saw conviction awakening in the conscience
of his brethren, he wept. These were tears both of sorrow and of joy. He
felt for them passing through the agony; but he must have rejoiced to
see the needed arrow reaching its mark, and the bleeding of the wounds
that followed.
He wept again when he saw Benjamin. The son of his own mother, her only
child besides himself, whose birth too had been her death, and the only
one in the midst of his father's children (who were all then before him)
who had not been guilty of his blood. Such an one as this was at that
moment seen by him in Benjamin. These tears, therefore, nature could
account for.
He wept again as he saw the work of repentance going on in his brethren.
In his way, he greatly longed after them; till at the last, Judah's
words were too much for him; conviction of conscience had then ended in
restoration of heart. "The old man" and "the lad" again and again on the
lips of Judah had eloquence which prevailed, and Joseph could no longer
refrain himself. He sobbed aloud, and the house of Pharaoh heard him.
But these were more than the tears of nature. This was the bowels of
Christ, or the tears of the Father upon the neck of the prodigal.
Each of these weepings was beautiful in its season; but we have more
still.
He fell on his father's face, and wept, as his father had just yielded
up the ghost. This was as the grave of Lazarus to Joseph; and there he
and his Lord can weep together.
And again he wept, when, after his father's death, his brethren began to
suspect his love. He was disappointed. An unworthy return to the ways of
a constant, patient, serving love, made him weep--in the spirit of Him,
I may say, who wept over Jerusalem. For years had he been doing all he
could to win their confidence. He had nourished them and their little
ones. Years had now passed, and not one rebuke of them do we find either
in his life or in his ways. Grief over their departed father had just
freshly given them to know what common affections they had to bind them
together. He had supplied them with every reason to trust him. And yet,
after all, they were fearing him. This was a terrible shock to such a
heart as Joseph's. But he did not resent it, save with his tears, and
renewed assurances of his diligent, faithful love. And have not such
tears as these, I ask, as fine a character as tears can have? They were
as the pulses of the aggrieved spirit of the Lord. "How long shall I be
with you?" "Why are ye fearful?" "Have I been so long time with you, and
yet hast thou not known Me?" These were kindred pulses of an aggrieved
heart in Jesus. Jesus has _sanctified_ tears, and made them, like
everything else that went up from Him to God, a sacrifice of a
sweet-smelling savour; Joseph and David and Paul, yea, Jonathan and
Timothy too, have made them _precious_, and put them among the treasures
of the Spirit in the bosom of the Church.
Such an one was Joseph, and in such company we put him; again, I say,
perhaps the most attractive character in the Book of Genesis. We see in
him the grace and blamelessness that we get in Isaac, the "piety," as we
speak, marking him in all his relations in life. But withal, there was
combination which we do not find in Isaac. There was firmness--energy as
well as sensibility.
It remains for him to do the last office of this piety to the memory of
his father; and he does it, we need scarcely say, in all grace and
faithfulness. He buries his father, as his father had willed it, in the
land of Canaan. But the whole is conducted with much solemnity--and the
occasion is such, that we must wait upon it for a little moment.
In other days, worship was a magnificent ceremonial. Temples, altars,
feasts, holy days, sacrifices, and the like, furnished it, and officers
of different orders, in appropriate vestments, conducted it. Because in
those days worship pointed onward to certain great mysteries which had
then to be realized. But now these mysteries have been accomplished in
the manifestation of Christ, His person, work, sufferings, and
victories--so that gorgeous worship is now but a reproach on all that
which is found in Him, in its full substance and efficacy.
So as to funerals, as well as worship. In other days they were to be
gorgeous. Because resurrection was then only in prospect; and funerals
then were a kind of pledge of the expected resurrection; and it was
fitting that the pledge should be magnificent according to the glory of
that which it pledged. But now, since resurrection has been realized in
the person of the Lord Jesus, the Son of God, the gorgeous funeral, like
the ceremonious worship, is rather a reproach, as though the great
mystery itself had not been yet realized in its substance and efficacy.
For it is not funereal pomp which is now the pledge of our coming
resurrection--the resurrection of the Lord is that, the first-fruits of
a promised harvest.
Accordingly, worship and funerals are now, in like simplicity, to
bespeak the Church's faith in _accomplished_ mysteries. We are now in
sight of the victory of the Lord Jesus. We no longer give or receive
pledges of it, as in ordinances, but we celebrate it. Joseph of
Arimathea gave His body a costly burial, as Joseph the son of Jacob here
gives the body of his loved and honoured father. We read of Jesus: "He
made His grave with the wicked, and with the rich in His death." In that
day of Joseph of Arimathea the grave had not been spoiled; and pledges
therefore--like pledges with these in the day of the Patriarch--might
still be given. But in the burial of the Lord Jesus we properly see the
last of these pledges; because in Him we see the first-fruits of them
that slept. The grave-clothes and the napkins lie in the empty sepulchre
as spoils of a glorious war, and trophies which tell of glorious
victory. Death was overthrown, and faith now celebrates what offices and
usages, as well as ordinances and ceremonies, had once only pledged and
foreshadowed. And let me add, that faith did learn this lesson, for the
burial which followed that of Jesus had neither its embalming nor its
magnificence. It was shortly disposed of, reverently withal, and
lovingly. "Devout men carried Stephen to his burial, and made great
lamentation over him."
Had we faith, deeply should we prize all this. Our privileges are great
indeed. In the services of the house of God now, the table has succeeded
the altar, and instead of a sacrifice we have a feast upon a sacrifice.
And so have we to see death and burial, too, in the light of the
resurrection of Jesus.
These things we notice in connection with Jacob's funeral. His death has
its moral operation in the family, bringing out (as is often the case
when the head of a family is removed) what before was not suspected to
be there. But I must meditate on this for a while.
The simplicity of patriarchal _faith_ is very remarkable. It was like
their manners--beautiful from their artlessness. There was nothing of
the spirit of bondage in the Genesis-saints. The patriarchs walked in
the assurance of this, that God was their God, His promises their
portion, and the city and land of the glory their inheritance. They
lived and died in this spirit of faith. No suspicions or reserves, no
questionings, no mistrust of grace, defiles their souls. And this is
surely the more strange because, while we nowhere among them trace this
spirit of bondage, we see it everywhere else, immediately after we leave
the Book of Genesis, and then all through Scripture. It would be vain to
follow all the notices of it which Scripture furnishes. It works
naturally and abundantly in us. Surely we know it in ourselves, and see
it in all around us.
How is it, then, that it does not betray itself in the Patriarchs? Was
it because they were such constant witnesses to themselves of the grace
and election of God, and had never heard the voice of the law? This
helped to form their minds, we may be sure. But besides this, this
absence of the spirit of bondage was beautifully consistent with their
dispensational standing; for they were as children who had never as yet
been from home. They were in infancy, and they could no more move in the
presence of God in a spirit of fear and uncertainty, than a child, ere
he left home, could be tempted to question his title to the nurture and
shelter of his father's house. And it is of the moral beauty and
perfection of this infant Book of Genesis that we see this child-like,
unquestioning faith in the saints of God there. They are faulty, and
that, too, at times, through want of faith, when certain circumstances
press them; but their souls are never defiled by a spirit of mistrust
and bondage. We see this throughout--at least till we reach the moment
when we are taking leave of the Book, and have gone beyond what is
properly the patriarchal character of it. I mean, in Joseph's brethren,
as soon as Jacob's funeral is over.
It then appeared that they had not been trusting their brother with a
guileless, happy confidence. There had been an object of common interest
between them, and that had been too much the secret of their confidence,
instead of Joseph himself. They had not boldness by reason of what
Joseph was, and of what he had done, but they had trusted in a
circumstance. Jacob's presence was the stay of their hearts. They had
repented; they had been convicted and quickened; but still, their
confidence did not honour Joseph, as Joseph had richly deserved at their
hands.
And this may have a word for us. We may ask ourselves, if countenance
and fellowship of others were withdrawn, would it be found that our
whole confidence has all along been in Jesus? that we have so learnt
grace, that we can abide the presence of unveiled glory? that the
removal of a Jacob clouds not the atmosphere in which our souls have
been dwelling?
But we are now reaching the very end of the times of Joseph. However,
ere we witness his death, we have (seasonable for us to notice this in
this eventful day of ours) a fine instance of _faith's acquaintance with
the course of the world's history_.
I do not speak of a _prophet's_ knowledge of what is about to be among
the nations, such as Daniel had, when he told of the rise of one beast
after another, and of the Great Image from its head of gold down to its
toes of iron and clay. Such knowledge was by the _Spirit_, the Lord
filling the heart of Daniel, and of others like him, with His own light.
I speak only of _faith's_ knowledge of that course of things which the
history of the nations is to take.
Joseph says to his brethren, "I die: and God will surely visit you, and
bring you out of this land unto the land which He sware to Abraham, to
Isaac, and to Jacob."
The children of Israel were at that time very happy in the land of
Egypt. They were in the full favour of the king; they were in possession
of the richest district in the country, and they saw one of themselves
the second person in the kingdom. Not a single symptom of danger or of
change appeared in all their condition. And Joseph himself was as happy
as circumstances could make him. "He saw Ephraim's children of the third
generation; the children also of Machir the son of Manasseh were brought
up upon Joseph's knees."
But in the midst of all this, Joseph speaks of _God visiting them_;
words which bespeak days of sorrow to be at hand, such days as that God
would then be their only friend and helper.
Strange this was, very strange! Who could believe it? Was Joseph
dreaming? statesmen and politicians might have said. But no; Joseph was
not dreaming. God's word was his wisdom. The divine oracle in chapter
xv. had forewarned, that Egypt would afflict Israel, but that God would
befriend them, and bring them back to Canaan--and this word from God was
everything to Joseph, was everything to faith--appearances were nothing.
The oracle had spoken it. Joseph believed it and remembered it. And thus
by faith Joseph saw Israel's _affliction_ in the day of Israel's
brightest promise and prosperity--he saw Egypt's _enmity_ in this day of
Egypt's friendship--he saw _brick-kilns and task-masters_ in the fair
fields and sunny harvest of Goshen. As Noah, by like faith, had once
seen a deluged world during 120 years of successive sowing times and
reaping times, vintages and summer gatherings, times of buying and
selling, planting and building.
This was faith's acquaintance with the coming course of things. And
faith, in this our day, is to be a like politician, and to know
something of the course of things by the light of God's word, in the
face of all appearances. And this is the only act in Joseph's life which
is recorded as of faith in Heb. xi. It is thus strikingly distinguished
in the midst of so many acts of faith and godliness, and of such a
course of walking with God, as we have seen in him. But it was worthy to
be thus signalized. It was a great witness of Joseph's living upon the
word of God, in the midst of the world's attractions and occupations,
and with a mind superior to all present appearances. Abraham had been
instructed, through divine visions and audiences, about this coming
history of Israel in Egypt; Joseph only used what Abraham had received.
We have no visits of the Lord to Joseph, as we have to Abraham. Joseph,
if you please, was not in Abraham's elevation. But we have in him what
is morally the chiefest, the light and certainty of a believing mind,
the apprehensions and decisions of faith. He remembered what Abraham had
heard, and he acted on what he remembered. What he wanted in personal
elevation, as an oracle of God, he had, in moral power, as a believer in
God. And if I must needs choose between them, I would rather _believe_
than be _inspired_. And Joseph believed, when, as we read, "he made
mention of the departing of the children of Israel, and gave commandment
concerning his bones." Heb. xi. 22. This was _faith's political
knowledge_, as I may speak--faith's acquaintance with the things which
were coming on the earth. And this is that which made a Noah or a Joseph
wiser than all the senators of the kingdoms. We know well how Joseph's
words were vindicated, and how very unlooked for brick-kilns defiled the
goodly lands of Goshen, and task-masters drove Israel to their work.
Just as before, in Noah's day, waters covered the very tops of the
mountains, and a ship, apparently in all folly built for dry land, was
soon the only ark of safety in a watery world.
And I do ask, Is it not to be thus with faith still? Have we not
warrant, by faith in the word of God, to know the course which this
world, with all its growing refinement and varied progress, is taking
every hour? Have we not reason to know that it is on its way to
judgment? Indeed we have. The Lord Jesus has been rejected in this
world. That is the fact which gives the world its character with God. No
advance in civil order and cultivation, no spread of even His own truth
among the nations, can avail to relieve the world of the judgment that
awaits it because of this deed. Let the day be as bright as was the day
of the Egyptian Joseph to Israel, faith knows that "the polished
surface" is soon to be broken up. Circumstances never give faith its
object. It is the word of God that does that; and circumstances and
appearances are not to be allowed to take the eye of faith off its
object. The house, swept and garnished as it is at present, promises
much. So did the land of Rameses and the friendship of Pharaoh, in the
days of Gen. 50. But such promises are idle words in the ear of faith;
it regards them not. As Jeremiah said to the king of Judah, when the
allied army had arrived, and the hostile army had broken up and gone
away, "Deceive not yourselves;" so faith says, in this hour, to the
generation that is boasting in progress, "Deceive not yourselves." Faith
says this with boldness; for well it knows, that the last state of the
swept and garnished house is worse than the first.
Joseph then gave proof that he believed what he testified. Like Jacob,
his heart was in Canaan, the land of the covenant, the land of his
father's sepulchres. And, like Jacob, he took an oath of his brethren,
saying, "God will surely visit you, and ye shall carry up my bones from
hence." The unseen world was the real thing with him, as it had been
with his fathers. The call of God had linked them all with that which
lay beyond death, and their thoughts and their hearts were there before
themselves. It was as natural for them to die as to live.
"Joseph died, being an hundred and ten years old."
His brethren, the children of Israel, were true to him, as he had been
to his father Jacob. They embalmed his body at once. Afterwards, Moses
carried it with him out of Egypt; and, at the last, Joshua buried it in
Shechem in the land of Canaan. See Gen. 50. 26; Ex. xiii. 19; Josh.
xxiv. 32.
We thus close the story of Joseph, and with it the Book of Genesis, the
book of the creation and of the first ways of God, the book also of the
patriarchs, the earliest families of the children of men, and the infant
age of the elect of God.
We are sensible, I think, when we leave this book, that in some sense we
are getting on lower ground. I think this will be generally felt.
In Genesis, the Lord is rather _manifesting Himself_; afterwards He is
_exposing man_. Man was not under law, as we have said, during the times
of this book. He was set to learn God under many and different
expressions and revelations of Himself. But as soon as law enters, and
that is very quickly after we leave this book, man is necessarily
brought forward, and we have to see him, not simply as under the call of
God, but in his own place and character. And surely this is enough to
make us sensible of being, in some sense, on lower ground. Of course, in
the unfolding of counsels, in the bringing forth of God's resources upon
man's failures, and in the further manifestations of God Himself upon
the exposure of man, we are advancing all through the volume from
beginning to end.
But, all-various and wondrous as these counsels are, which get their
disclosure as we proceed through Scripture, let the wisdom of God be
never so manifold, as we know it is, yet we may say, every part of it
gets some notice or foreshadowing in this Book of Genesis. These are
faint and obscure; but the rudiments of the whole language are found in
this introductory and infant lesson. Atonement, faith, judgment, glory,
government, calling, the kingdom, the Church, Israel, the nations,
covenants, promises, prophecies, with the blessed God Himself in His
holiness, love, and truth, the doings of His hand, and the workmanship
and fruits of His Spirit, all these and the like appear in this book.
Creation was displayed at the beginning. Soiled and ruined under the
hand of man, redemption was published. The heavens and the earth are
then shown to be the scenes of redemption (as they had been at the first
of creation) in the histories of _Enoch_ and _Noah_. And then in
_Abraham_, _Isaac_, _Jacob_, and _Joseph_ we get man (the leading
subject of redemption, as of course he is) in his election, adoption,
discipline, and inheritance. These mysteries have been looked at in this
series, and they lie under the eye, and for the observation of our
souls, as we pass on from one of these histories to another.
And let us learn to say, beloved, to His praise who has spread out such
living creations before us, that if the heavens declare the glory of God
and the firmament showeth His handiwork, so with no less clearness and
certainty do the pages of Scripture bespeak the breathings of His
Spirit.
THE BOOK OF JOB.
JAMES v. 11.
"Behind a frowning providence
He hides a smiling face"
May surely be said, upon the reading of this deeply affecting story.
Said, too, with peculiar fitness and fulness of truth, as though the
thought of the Christian poet had been suggested by the tale of the
inspired historian. The frown was specially dark and lowering, the smile
behind it brilliantly beaming and happy. The veil was very thick, but
the glory within very bright. The boastings of the Lord in His servant
were above the noise of all the water-floods.
"The bud may have a bitter taste,
But sweet will be the flower"
may as surely be the motto for the story also. For let us wait only for
a little, and the fruit of the travail will be precious beyond all
expectation. Very bitter indeed was the bud, but very sweet indeed was
the flower. It had to ripen under the pruning of the sprigs and the
taking away of the branches (Isaiah xviii. 5), but it tells, in the end,
the skill and patience of its divine husbandman. I would, however,
rather trace some of the principles of this beautiful Book, than thus at
the beginning more largely anticipate the moral of it.
Resurrection, called by the Lord "the power of God," or, at least, one
of the ways of that power (Matthew xxii. 29), has been made known,
through different witnesses, and in divers manners, from the very
beginning. And connected as it is with redemption, the great principle
of God's way and the secret of His purposes, it must have been so.
It was intimated in the creation of the beautiful scene around us, for
the world itself was called forth from the grave of the deep. The
material was without form, and darkness was upon the face of it, but
light was commanded to shine out of darkness, and beauty and order were
caused to arise. See Hebrews xi. 3.
It declared itself in the formation of Eve. Then again in the earliest
promise about the bruised Seed of the woman. It was kept in memory in
Seth given in the place of Abel whom Cain slew; and then again in the
line of the fathers before the flood. But still more illustriously was
it published in Noah. "Every thing in the earth shall die," says the
Lord to him, "but with thee will I establish my covenant;" thus
disclosing the secret, that the earth was to be established according to
the purpose of God, as in resurrection, stability, and beauty.
So, after these earlier fathers, Abraham was to have both a family and
an inheritance on the same principle. He and his generations after him
were taught resurrection in the mystery of the barren woman keeping
house. The covenant blessing was linked with the risen family. Ishmael
may get possessions, and promises too, but the covenant was with Isaac.
And more marvellously still, not to pause longer over other witnesses of
it, we see resurrection in the blessed history of "the Word made flesh."
We might indeed have forejudged that it would have been otherwise. For
in Christ, flesh was without taint. Here was "a holy thing." But even of
such we have now to say, "Yea, though we have known Christ after the
flesh, yet now henceforth know we Him no more." Christ known by us now
is Christ in resurrection. And this is enough to let us know assuredly,
that resurrection is the principle of all the divine action, and the
secret of the covenant.[26]
[26] All orders of His creatures in all places of His dominions witness
Him as the _living_ God; but in the history of redeemed sinners He
is witnessed as the living God in _victory_. This is His glory;
and resurrection should be prized by us as the display of it. The
sepulchre with the grave-clothes lying in order, and the napkin
which had been about the head, are the trophies of such victory.
John xx. 6, 7. The history of redeemed sinners celebrates Him
thus. To hesitate about resurrection is to betray ignorance of
God, and of the power that is His. See Matthew xxii. 29; 1 Cor.
xv. 34.