NOTES
_on the book of_
NUMBERS
by
C. H. MACKINTOSH
_“So He led them through the depths,
as through the wilderness.”_
LOIZEAUX BROTHERS
_New York_
FIRST EDITION 1880
TWENTY-SIXTH PRINTING 1959
LOIZEAUX BROTHERS, INC., PUBLISHERS
_A Nonprofit Organization, Devoted to the Lord’s Work
and to the Spread of His Truth_
19 WEST 21ST STREET, NEW YORK 10, N. Y.
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
CONTENTS
_Page._
CHAPTERS I. & II, 1
” III. & IV, 30
” V, 94
” VI, 115
” VII, 144
” VIII, 150
” IX, 161
” X, 188
” XI, 201
” XII, 225
” XIII, 232
” XIV, 243
” XV, 271
” XVI, 292
” XVII. & XVIII, 316
” XIX, 353
” XX, 390
” XXI, 399
” XXII.-XXIV, 407
” XXV, 424
” XXVI, 426
” XXVII, 430
” XXVIII. & XXIX, 442
” XXX, 448
” XXXI, 451
” XXXII, 455
” XXXIII. & XXXIV, 462
” XXXV, 464
” XXXVI, 471
PREFATORY NOTE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION
As several persons in America have, without any authority whatever from
me, undertaken to publish my four[1] volumes of “Notes,” I deem it my
duty to inform the reader that I have given full permission to Messrs.
LOIZEAUX BROTHERS to publish an edition of those books in such form as
they shall consider most suitable.
C. H. MACKINTOSH.
_6 West Park Terrace, Scarborough, May 1st, 1879._
PREFACE
Having read the proof-sheets of the following “NOTES ON NUMBERS,” I am
prepared, so far, to write a preface. It is with no view of praising the
book that I do so, but to show my fellowship with the well-known author
in all his labors. The book will speak for itself, and the reader must
judge.
After twelve years of joint-editorship in the monthly issue of “_Things
New and Old_,” the reader will not be surprised at this mutual love of
identification in sending forth another volume of “Notes.” But for this,
there is no reason why I should appear.
The wonderful sale of the three former volumes, and the desire that
has been expressed on all hands for the fourth, bespeak for it a large
circulation.
We will now glance for a moment at the _character_ of the book of
Numbers. Fuller details will be found in the “Notes.”
It may be regarded as a divine history of the wanderings of the
Israelites in the wilderness for about thirty-eight years and ten months,
commencing with the first movement of the camp after the tabernacle
was reared; and also as a perpetual memorial of Jehovah’s patient,
tender, and unwearied care of His murmuring and rebellious people. It
is emphatically a wilderness book, and characterized by journeyings,
service, and all the vicissitudes of wilderness life. As such, it is
deeply interesting, most instructive, and easily applied to the Christian
in this present evil world. (Compare Numbers i. and xxxvi. 13 with
Deuteronomy i. 3.)
The first thing that attracts our attention in reading the book, is sweet
and precious to the heart beyond all expression—_God has His people
numbered and gathered around Himself_. He dwelt in the camp.—“_In the
midst whereof I dwell_.” Could love do more? Impossible! The twelve
tribes guarded the tabernacle of the Lord. The Levites encamped directly
around the court; and Moses, Aaron, and the priests guarded the entrance
whereby God was approached. The circumference of the camp, thus arranged,
and all facing the tabernacle, is generally supposed to have been at
least twelve miles. But that which gave unity, strength, and glory to the
camp in the wilderness, was the presence of God in His tabernacle, as the
centre of His chosen people. Blessed shadow of good things to come—of
Christ as the centre, life, and glory of His Church now!
Rather more than a year from the epoch of the Exodus, Jehovah commanded
Moses to number the people that were able to bear arms, from twenty years
old and upwards. The tribe of Levi, being exempt from military service,
was numbered separately. But the complete number, _twelve_, was made up
by the division of Joseph into Ephraim and Manasseh. (Chapters, i, ii,
iii.)
Every thing was now in its right place, and every one knew for certain
what he had to do, both when the cloud moved and when it rested. The
tabernacle set up, the priests consecrated, the people numbered, they
were now to leave Horeb. “The Lord God spake unto us in Horeb, saying,
‘Ye have dwelt long enough in this mount.’” “And it came to pass on the
twentieth day of the second month, in the second year, that the cloud was
taken up from off the tabernacle of the testimony. And the children of
Israel took their journeys out of the wilderness of Sinai; and the cloud
rested in the wilderness of Paran.” (Deut. i. 6; Numb. x. 11, 12.)
The pillar of cloud by day, and the pillar of fire by night, guided
all the movements of the camp. (Numb. ix. 17-23.) The moment the cloud
ascended from off the tabernacle, the silver trumpets sounded the alarm,
and the whole camp was instantly in motion. Then Moses uttered the
prayer. “Rise up, Lord, and let Thine enemies be scattered, and let them
that hate Thee flee before Thee.” When the cloud rested, the whole camp
rested, and every man knew his place and his work. And then Moses prayed,
“Return, O Lord, unto the many thousands of Israel.” (Numb. x. 35, 36.)
How imposing to the outward eye the sight of this great camp must have
been in the midst of the desert! Well might Balaam say, “How goodly
are thy tents, O Jacob, and thy tabernacles, O Israel!” But its true
loveliness is only seen by the eye of faith. It was the brightest spot
in the world, though on the sand of the desert, and the richest in
blessing. Far, far above all its other attractions is the knowledge that
God Himself is there, thinking of every one and providing for their every
need. Day by day, He spread a table for them in the wilderness, and gave
them water from the flinty rock. The foot of the traveler was never
swollen, and his raiment waxed not old these forty years. (Deut. viii. 4.)
There were upwards of six hundred thousand men above the age of twenty,
besides the Levites and women and children, probably more than two
millions altogether. But Jehovah gathered them all around Himself, as a
father would gather his children, and covered them with the skirts of
His cloud, both by night and by day.—“He spread a cloud for a covering;
and fire to give light in the night.” (Ps. cv. 39.) Thus was the Lord’s
family in the place of rest, peace, and blessing. The blood of the
everlasting covenant had been sprinkled on the mercy-seat within the
vail, and judgment had been executed on the sin-offering outside the
camp. God was now a wall of fire around His people, and the glory in the
midst of them. Oh that Israel had known—oh that Israel had understood
the loving-kindness of the Lord, and so put all their trust in Him! (See
Deut. xxxii, xxxiii.)
In the position and service of the Levites there is always much that is
interesting to the Christian. They were typical of the Church (or of
the individual Christian) in service, just as the priests were typical
of the Church in worship. The fact of the Levites being taken for the
service of the Lord in place of the first-born, gave them a very special
character. They were first-fruits unto the Lord. Thus it is that the
Church is, as the first-fruits, holy to the Lord—“the church of the
first-born ones.” (Jas. i.; Heb. xii.)
As the Levites thus became God’s possession for service, and belonged
wholly to Him, so it is with the Church. We are redeemed—we are not our
own—we are bought with a price; therefore we are to glorify God in our
bodies and in our spirits, which are His. We are to serve the living God,
in communion with Christ our great High-Priest above. The calling of the
Church, however, is a much higher thing than the position of the Levites;
for she is one with Christ, and the Holy Ghost gives the capacity and the
gift for Christian service.
In conclusion, we may safely affirm that there is no truth in
Christianity of such importance, or of such practical power, as the
blessed truth of the Church’s relationship to Christ. “For in Him
dwelleth all the fullness of the Godhead bodily. And ye are complete in
Him, which is the head of all principality and power.” (Col. ii. 9, 10.)
We can only be men of war, worshiping priests, serving Levites, in the
highest and truest sense, in the proportion that we live in the power of
this great truth. We are joined to the Lord by the one Spirit; our life
is hid with Christ in God. May we be content to be the Lord’s hidden ones
as to this world, and only to be seen and known as His servants, until He
come, then shall we also appear with Him in glory.
May the Lord accompany with His own rich blessing, and clothe with His
own divine power, this volume of “NOTES ON NUMBERS;” and may He accept
it as service to Himself, and use it for His own glory, and to His name
alone be undivided praise. Amen.
_A. M._
_London, Dec. 1, 1869_
NOTES ON THE BOOK OF NUMBERS
CHAPTERS I. & II.
We now enter upon the study of the fourth grand division of the
Pentateuch, or five books of Moses; and we shall find the leading
characteristic of this book quite as strongly marked as that of any of
the three books which have already engaged our attention. In the book
of Genesis, after the record of creation, the deluge, and the Babel
dispersion, we have God’s election of the seed of Abraham; in the book
of Exodus, we have redemption; Leviticus gives us priestly worship and
communion; in Numbers, we have the walk and warfare of the wilderness.
Such are the prominent subjects of these most precious sections of
inspiration, while, as might be expected, many other points of deepest
interest are collaterally introduced. The Lord, in His great mercy,
has led us through the study of Genesis, Exodus, and Leviticus; and we
can reckon on Him with confidence to conduct us through the book of
Numbers. May His Spirit lead the thoughts and guide the pen, so that not
a sentence may be committed to writing that is not in strict accordance
with His holy mind. May every page and every paragraph bear the stamp of
His approval, and be at once conducive to His glory and the permanent
profit of the reader.
* * * * *
“And the Lord spake unto Moses _in the wilderness_ of Sinai, in the
tabernacle of the congregation, on the first day of the second month, in
the second year after they were come out of the land of Egypt, saying,
‘Take ye the sum of all the congregation of the children of Israel, after
their families, by the house of their fathers, with the number of their
names, every male by their polls; from twenty years old and upward, all
that are _able to go forth to war_ in Israel; thou and Aaron shall number
them by their armies.’” (Chap. i. 1-3.)
Here we find ourselves at once “in the wilderness,” where those only
are to be taken account of who are “able to go forth to war.” This
is strongly marked. In the book of Genesis, the seed of Israel were
in the loins of their father Abraham; in the book of Exodus, they
were in the brick-kilns of Egypt; in Leviticus, they were gathered
around the tabernacle of the congregation; in Numbers, they are seen
in the wilderness. Then, again, in full keeping with the above, and
in confirmation thereof, in Genesis, we hearken to the call of God in
election; in Exodus, we gaze upon the blood of the lamb in redemption; in
Leviticus, we are almost entirely occupied with the worship and service
of the sanctuary; but no sooner have we opened the book of Numbers than
we read of men of war, of armies, of standards, of camps, and trumpets
sounding alarm.
All this is highly characteristic, and marks off the book on which we are
now entering as one of special interest, value, and importance to the
Christian. Each book of the Bible, each section of the inspired canon,
has its own distinct place and object: each has its own niche assigned to
it by its divine Author. We must not entertain for a moment the thought
of instituting any comparison in point of intrinsic value, interest, and
importance. All is divine, and therefore perfect. The Christian reader
fully and heartily believes this. He reverently sets his seal to the
truth of the plenary inspiration of holy Scripture—of all Scripture, and
of the Pentateuch amongst the rest; nor is he to be moved one hair’s
breadth from this by the bold and impious attacks of infidels, ancient,
mediæval, or modern. Infidels and rationalists may traffic in their
unhallowed reasonings; they may exhibit their enmity against the book and
its Author; but the pious Christian rests, notwithstanding all, in the
simple and happy belief that “all Scripture is given by inspiration of
God.”
But while we must utterly reject the idea of any comparison as to
authority and value, we may, with very much profit, compare the contents,
design, and scope of the various books of the Bible. And the more
profoundly we meditate upon these, the more forcibly shall we be struck
with the exquisite beauty, infinite wisdom, and wonderful precision
of the volume as a whole, and of each distinct division thereof. The
inspired writer never swerves from the direct object of the book,
whatever that object may be. You will never find aught in any one book
of the Bible which is not in the most perfect harmony with the main
design of that book. To prove and illustrate this statement would lead
us through the entire canon of holy Scripture, and hence we shall not
attempt it. The intelligent Christian does not need the proof, however
much he might be interested in the illustration. He takes his stand upon
the great fact that the book as a whole, and in all its parts, is from
God; and his heart reposes in the conclusion that in that whole, and in
each of those parts, there is not a jot or a tittle which is not in every
way worthy of the divine Author.
Hear the following words from the pen of one who expresses himself as
“deeply convinced of the divine inspiration of the Scriptures, given
to us of God, and confirmed in this conviction by daily and growing
discoveries of their fullness, depth, and perfectness, ever more
sensible, through grace, of the admirable perfection of the parts, and
the wonderful connection of the whole:” “The Scriptures,” says this
writer, “have a living source, and living power has pervaded their
composition: hence their infiniteness of bearing, and the impossibility
of separating any one part from its connection with the whole, because
one God is the living centre from which all flows; one Christ the living
centre around which all its truth circles, and to which it refers,
though in various glory; and one Spirit the divine sap which carries its
power from its source in God to the minutest branches of the all-uniting
truth, testifying of the glory, the grace, and the truth of Him whom
God sets forth as the object and centre and head of all that is in
connection with Himself, of Him who is, withal, God over all, blessed
for evermore.... The more—beginning from the utmost leaves and branches
of this revelation of the mind of God, by which we have been reached
when far from Him—we have traced it up towards its centre, and thence
looked down again towards its extent and diversity, the more we learn its
infiniteness, and our own feebleness of apprehension. We learn, blessed
be God, this, that the love which is its source is found in unmingled
perfectness and fullest display of those manifestations of it which have
reached us even in our ruined state. The same perfect God of love is in
it all. But the unfoldings of divine wisdom in the counsels in which God
has displayed Himself, remain ever to us a subject of research, in which
every new discovery, by increasing our spiritual intelligence, makes the
infiniteness of the whole, and the way in which it surpasses all our
thoughts, only more and more clear to us.”
It is truly refreshing to transcribe such lines from the pen of one who
has been a profound student of Scripture for forty years. They are of
unspeakable value, at a moment when so many are ready to cast a slight
upon the sacred volume. Not that we are in any wise dependent upon human
testimony in forming our conclusions as to the divine origin of the
Bible, inasmuch as these conclusions rest upon a foundation furnished by
the Bible itself. God’s Word, as well as His work, speaks for itself; it
carries its own credentials with it; it speaks to the heart; it reaches
down to the great moral roots of our being; it penetrates the very
innermost chambers of the soul; it shows us what we are; it speaks to
us as no other book can speak; and as the woman of Sychar argued that
Jesus must be the Christ because He told her all things that ever she
did, so may we say, in reference to the Bible, It tells us all that ever
we did, is not this the Word of God? No doubt it is only by the Spirit’s
teaching that we can discern and appreciate the evidence and credentials
with which holy Scripture presents itself before us; but still it does
speak for itself, and needs not human testimony to make it of value
to the soul. We should no more think of having our faith in the Bible
established upon man’s testimony in its favor, than we should think of
having it shaken by his testimony against it.
It is of the very last possible importance, at all times, but more
especially at a moment like the present, to have the heart and mind
established in the grand truth of the divine authority of holy
Scripture—its plenary inspiration—its all sufficiency for all purposes,
for all people, at all times. There are two hostile influences abroad,
namely, infidelity on the one hand, and superstition on the other. The
former denies that God has spoken to us in His Word; the latter admits
that He has spoken, but it denies that we can understand what He says,
save by the interpretation of the church.
Now, while there are very many who recoil with horror from the impiety
and audacity of infidelity, they do not see that superstition just as
completely deprives them of the Scriptures. For wherein, let us ask,
lies the difference between denying that God has spoken and denying that
we can understand what He says? In either case, are we not deprived of
the Word of God? Unquestionably. If God cannot make me understand what
He says—if He cannot give me the assurance that it is He Himself who
speaks, I am in no wise better off than if He had not spoken at all. If
God’s Word is not sufficient without human interpretation, then it cannot
be God’s Word at all. That which is insufficient is not God’s Word. We
must admit either of two things, namely, that God has not spoken at all,
or if He has spoken, His Word is perfect. There is no neutral ground in
reference to this question. Has God given us a revelation? Infidelity
says, “No.” Superstition says, “Yes, but you cannot understand it without
human authority.” Thus are we, in the one case as well as in the other,
deprived of the priceless treasure of God’s own precious Word; and thus,
too, infidelity and superstition, though apparently so unlike, meet in
the one point of depriving us of a divine revelation.
But, blessed be God, He has given us a revelation—He has spoken, and
His Word is able to reach the heart and the understanding also. God is
able to give the certainty that it is He who speaks, and we do not want
any human authority to intervene. We do not want a poor rush-light to
enable us to see that the sun is shining. The beams of that glorious
luminary are quite enough without any such miserable addition. All we
want is to stand in the sunshine, and we shall be convinced that the sun
shines. If we retire into a vault, or into a tunnel, we shall not feel
his influence; and just so is it with regard to Scripture—if we place
ourselves beneath the chilling and darkening influences of superstition
or infidelity, we shall not experience the genial and enlightening power
of that divine revelation.
Having said thus much as to the divine volume as a whole, we shall now
proceed to consider the contents of the section which lies open before
us. In chapter i, we have the declaration of the “_pedigree_;” and in
chapter ii, the recognition of the “_standard_.” “And Moses and Aaron
took these men which are expressed by their names: and they assembled all
the congregation together on the first day of the second month, and _they
declared their pedigrees_ after their families, by the house of their
fathers; according to the number of the names, from twenty years old and
upward, by their polls. As the Lord commanded Moses, so he numbered them
in the wilderness of Sinai.” (Chap. i. 17-19.)
Has this any voice for us? does it convey any great spiritual lesson to
our understanding? Assuredly it does. In the first place, it suggests
this important question to the reader: Can I declare my pedigree? It is
greatly to be feared there are hundreds, if not thousands, of professing
Christians who are wholly incompetent to do so. They cannot say, with
clearness and decision, “_Now are_ we the sons of God.” (1 John iii.
2.)—“Ye _are_ all the children of God by faith in Christ Jesus.... And
if ye are Christ’s, then _are_ ye Abraham’s seed, and heirs according to
the promise.” (Gal. iii. 26, 29.)—“For as many as are led by the Spirit
of God, they _are_ the sons of God.... The Spirit itself beareth witness
with our spirit, that we _are_ the sons of God.” (Rom. viii. 14, 16.)
This is the Christian’s “pedigree,” and it is his privilege to be able
to “declare” it. He is born from above—born again—born of water and the
Spirit, _i. e._, by the Word and by the Holy Ghost. (Compare diligently,
John iii. 5; Jas. i. 18; 1 Pet. i. 23; Eph. v. 26.) The believer traces
his pedigree directly up to a risen Christ in glory. This is Christian
genealogy. So far as our natural pedigree is concerned, if we trace
it up to its _source_, and then declare it honestly, we must see and
admit that we are sprung from a ruined stock. Ours is a fallen family.
Our fortunes are gone; our very blood attainted; we are irrecoverably
ruined; we can never regain our original position; our former _status_
and the inheritance which belonged to it are irretrievably lost. A man
may be able to trace his genealogical line through a race of nobles,
of princes, or of kings; but if he is fully to “declare his pedigree,”
he cannot stop short of a fallen, ruined, outcast head. We must get to
the _source_ of a thing to know what it really is. It is thus God looks
at and judges of things, and we must think with Him if we would think
aright. His judgment of men and things must be dominant forever. Man’s
judgment is only ephemeral, it lasts but for a day; and hence, according
to faith’s estimate, the estimate of sound sense, “it is a _small_
thing to be judged of man’s day.” (1 Cor. iv. 3.) Oh, how small! Would
that we felt more deeply how small a thing it is to be judged of man’s
judgment, or, as the margin reads it, of man’s day! Would that we walked
habitually in the real sense of the smallness thereof! It would impart a
calm elevation and a holy dignity which would lift us above the influence
of the scene through which we are passing. What is rank in this life?
What importance can attach to a pedigree which, if honestly traced and
faithfully declared, is derived from a ruined stock? A man can only be
proud of his birth when he stops short of his real origin—“born in sin
and shapen in iniquity.” Such is man’s origin—such his birth. Who can
think of being proud of such a birth—of such an origin? who but one whose
mind the god of this world hath blinded?
But how different with the Christian! His pedigree is heavenly;
his genealogical tree strikes its roots into the soil of the new
creation. Death can never break the line, inasmuch as it is formed
in resurrection. We cannot be too simple as to this. It is of the
utmost importance that the reader should be thoroughly clear on this
foundation-point. We can easily see, from this first chapter of Numbers,
how essential it was that every member of the congregation of Israel
should be able to declare his pedigree. Uncertainty on this point would
have proved disastrous; it would have produced hopeless confusion. We
can hardly imagine an Israelite, when called to declare his pedigree,
expressing himself in the doubtful manner adopted by many Christians
nowadays. We cannot conceive his saying, Well, I am not quite sure.
Sometimes I cherish the hope that I am of the stock of Israel; but at
other times, I am full of fear that I do not belong to the congregation
of the Lord at all. I am all in uncertainty and darkness. Can we conceive
such language? Assuredly not. Much less could we imagine any one
maintaining the monstrous notion that no one could possibly be sure as to
whether he was a true Israelite or not until the day of judgment.
All such ideas and reasonings—all such doubts, fears, and questions, we
may rest assured, were foreign to the mind of the Israelite. Every member
of the congregation was called to declare his pedigree ere taking his
place in the ranks as a man of war. Each one was able to say, like Saul
of Tarsus, “Circumcised the eighth day, of the stock of Israel,” etc. All
was settled and clear, and necessarily so if there was to be any real
entrance upon the walk and warfare of the wilderness.
Now, may we not legitimately ask, If a Jew could be certain as to his
pedigree, why may not a Christian be certain as to his? Reader, weigh
this question; and if you are one of that large class of persons who
are never able to arrive at the blessed certainty of their heavenly
lineage—their spiritual birth, pause, we beseech you, and let us reason
with you on this momentous point. It may be you are disposed to ask, How
can I be sure that I am, really and truly, a child of God, a member of
Christ, born of the Word and Spirit of God? I would give worlds, were
they mine, to be certain as to this most weighty question.
Well, then, we would earnestly desire to help you in this matter. Indeed,
one special object before us in penning these “Notes” is, to assist
anxious souls, by answering, as the Lord may enable us, their questions,
solving their difficulties, and removing the stumbling-blocks out of
their way.
And first of all, let us point out one special feature which belongs
to all the children of God without exception. It is a very simple, but
a very blessed feature. If we do not possess it in some degree, it is
most certain we are not of the heavenly race; but if we do possess it,
it is just as certain that we are, and we may, therefore, without any
difficulty or reserve, “declare our pedigree.” Now what is this feature?
what is this great family characteristic? Our Lord Jesus Christ supplies
the answer. He tells us that “Wisdom is justified of _all_ her children.”
(Luke vii. 35; Matt. xi. 19.) All the children of Wisdom, from the days
of Abel down to the present moment, have been marked by this great family
trait. There is not so much as a single exception. All God’s children—all
the sons of Wisdom have always exhibited, in some degree, this moral
feature—they have justified God.
Let the reader consider this. It may be he finds it hard to understand
what is meant by justifying God; but a passage or two of holy Scripture
will, we trust, make it quite plain. We read in Luke vii. that “all
the people that heard Jesus, and the publicans, _justified God_, being
baptized with the baptism of John. But the Pharisees and lawyers rejected
the counsel of God against themselves, being not baptized of him.”
(Ver. 29, 30.) Here we have the two generations brought, as it were,
face to face. The publicans justified God and condemned themselves: the
Pharisees justified themselves and judged God. The former submitted to
the baptism of John—the baptism of repentance: the latter refused that
baptism—refused to repent—refused to humble and to judge themselves.
Here we have the two great classes into which the whole human family has
been divided, from the days of Abel and Cain down to the present day;
and here, too, we have the simplest possible test by which to try our
“pedigree.” Have we taken the place of self-condemnation? have we bowed
in true repentance before God? This is to justify God. The two things go
together—yea, they are one and the same. The man who condemns himself
justifies God; and the man who justifies God condemns himself. On the
other hand, the man who justifies himself judges God; and the man who
judges God justifies himself.
Thus it stands in every case. And be it observed that the very moment we
take the ground of repentance and self-judgment, God takes the ground
of a Justifier. God always justifies those who condemn themselves. All
His children justify Him, and He justifies all His children. The moment
David said, “I have sinned against the Lord,” the answer was, “The Lord
hath put away thy sin.” Divine forgiveness follows, with the most intense
rapidity, human confession.
Hence it follows that nothing can be more foolish than for any one to
justify himself, inasmuch as God must be justified in His sayings, and
overcome when He is judged. (Comp. Ps. li. 4; Rom. iii. 4.) God must
have the upper hand in the end, and then all self-justification shall
be seen in its true light. The wisest thing, therefore, is to condemn
ourselves. This is what all the children of Wisdom do. Nothing is more
characteristic of the true members of Wisdom’s family than the habit and
spirit of self-judgment. Whereas, on the other hand, nothing so marks all
those who are not of this family as a spirit of self-vindication.
These things are worthy of our most earnest attention. Nature will blame
any thing and every thing, any one and every one, but itself; but where
grace is at work, there is ever a readiness to judge self, and take the
lowly place. This is the true secret of blessing and peace. All God’s
children have stood on this blessed ground, exhibited this lovely moral
trait, and reached this grand result. We cannot find so much as a single
exception in the entire history of Wisdom’s happy family; and we may
safely say that if the reader has been led, in truth and reality, to own
himself lost—to condemn himself—to take the place of true repentance,
then is he, in very deed, one of the children of Wisdom, and he may
therefore, with boldness and decision, “declare his pedigree.”
We would urge this point at the outset. It is impossible for any one to
recognize and rally around the proper “standard” unless he can declare
his “pedigree.” In short, it is impossible to take up a true position
in the wilderness so long as there is any uncertainty as to this great
question. How could an Israelite of old have taken his place in the
assembly—how could he have stood in the ranks—how could he expect to make
any progress through the wilderness, if he could not distinctly declare
his pedigree? Impossible. Just so is it with Christians now. Progress in
wilderness life—success in spiritual warfare, is out of the question if
there be any uncertainty as to the spiritual pedigree. We must be able
to say, “We _know_ that we have passed from death unto life”—“We _know_
that we are of God”—“We believe and are sure,” ere there can be any real
advance in the life and walk of a Christian.
Reader, say, can you declare your pedigree? Is this a thoroughly
settled point with you? Are you clear as to this in the very depths of
your soul? When you are all alone with God, is it a perfectly settled
question between you and Him? Search and see. Make sure work of it. Do
not slur the matter over. Build not upon mere profession. Say not, I am
a member of such a church; I receive the Lord’s supper; I hold such and
such doctrines; I have been religiously brought up; I live a moral life;
I have done nobody any harm; I read the Bible and say my prayers; I have
family worship in my house; I give largely in the cause of philanthropy
and religion. All this may be perfectly true of you, and yet you may not
have a single pulse of divine life, a single ray of divine light. Not
one of these things, not all of them put together, could be accepted as
a declaration of spiritual pedigree. There must be the witness of the
Spirit that you are a child of God, and this witness always accompanies
simple faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. “He that believeth in the Son of
God hath the witness in himself.” (1 John v. 10.) It is not by any means
a question of looking into your own heart for evidences; it is not a
building upon frames, feelings, and experiences—nothing of the sort. It
is a childlike faith in Christ; it is having eternal life in the Son of
God; it is the imperishable record of the Holy Ghost; it is taking God
at His word. “Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that heareth My word,
and believeth on Him that sent Me, _hath_ everlasting life, and shall
not come into judgment [κρίσιν], but _is passed_ from death unto life.”
(John v. 24.)
This is the true way to declare your pedigree; and be assured of it, you
must be able to declare it ere you can “go forth to war.” We do not mean
to say you cannot be saved without this. God forbid we should say any
such thing. We believe there are hundreds of the true spiritual Israel
who are not able to declare their pedigree; but we ask, Are such able
to go forth to war? are they vigorous military men? Far from it. They
cannot even know what true conflict is: on the contrary, persons of this
class mistake their doubts and fears—their dark and cloudy seasons for
true Christian conflict. This is a most serious mistake, but, alas! a
very common one. We continually find a low, dark, legal condition of soul
defended on the ground of Christian conflict, whereas, according to the
New Testament, true Christian conflict, or warfare, is carried on in a
region where doubts and fears are unknown. It is when we stand in the
clear daylight of God’s full salvation—salvation in a risen Christ—that
we really enter upon the warfare proper to us as Christians. Are we to
suppose for a moment that our legal struggles, our culpable unbelief,
our refusal to submit to the righteousness of God, our questionings and
reasonings, can be viewed as Christian conflict? By no means. All these
things must be regarded as conflict with God; whereas Christian conflict
is carried on with Satan.—“We wrestle not against flesh and blood,
but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the
darkness of this world, against wicked spirits in high place.” (Eph. vi.
12.)
This is Christian conflict. But can such conflict be waged by those who
are continually doubting whether they are Christians or not? We do not
believe it. Could we imagine an Israelite in conflict with Amalek in
the wilderness, or with the Canaanites in the land of promise, while
yet unable to “declare his pedigree” or recognize his “standard”? The
thing is inconceivable. No, no; every member of the congregation who was
able to go forth to war was perfectly clear and settled as to those two
points. Indeed, he could not go forth if he were not so.
And while on the important subject of Christian conflict, it may be well
to call the reader’s attention to the three portions of New-Testament
scripture in which we have three distinct characters of conflict
presented, namely, Romans vii. 7-24; Galatians v. 17; Ephesians vi.
10-17. If the reader will just turn for a moment to the above scriptures,
we shall seek to point out the true character of each.
In Romans vii. 7-24, we have the struggle of a soul quickened but not
emancipated—a regenerated soul under the law. The proof that we have
before us here a quickened soul, is found in such utterances as these:
“That which I do, I allow not.”—“To will is present with me.”—“_I delight
in the law of God after the inward man._” None but a regenerated soul
could speak thus. The disallowance of the wrong, the _will_ to do right,
the inward delight in the law of God—all these are the distinct marks of
the new life—the precious fruits of regeneration. No unconverted person
could truthfully use such language.
But on the other hand, the proofs that we have before us in this
scripture a soul not fully emancipated, not in the joy of known
deliverance, not in the full consciousness of victory, not in the assured
possession of spiritual power—the plain proofs of all this we have in
such utterances as the following: “I am carnal, sold under sin.”—“What I
would, that do I not; but what I hate, that do I.”—“O wretched man that I
am! who shall deliver me?” Now, we know that a Christian is not “carnal,”
but spiritual; he is not “sold under sin,” but redeemed from its power;
he is not a “wretched man,” sighing for deliverance, but a happy man,
who knows himself delivered. He is not an impotent slave, unable to do
the right thing, and ever compelled to do the wrong; he is a free man,
endowed with power in the Holy Ghost, and able to say, “I can do _all_
things through Christ that strengtheneth me.” (Phil. iv.)
We cannot here attempt to enter upon a full exposition of this most
important scripture; we merely offer a suggestion or two which may help
the reader to seize its scope and import. We are fully aware that many
Christians differ widely as to the interpretation of this chapter.
Some deny that it presents the exercises of a quickened soul; others
maintain that it sets forth the experiences proper to a Christian. We
cannot accept either conclusion. We believe it exhibits to our view the
exercises of a truly regenerated soul, but of a soul not set free by the
knowledge of its union with a risen Christ, and the power of the Holy
Ghost. Hundreds of Christians are actually in the seventh of Romans; but
their proper place is in the eighth. They are, as to their experience,
under the law; they do not know themselves as sealed by the Holy Ghost;
they are not in possession of full victory in a risen and glorified
Christ; they have doubts and fears, and are ever disposed to cry out, “O
wretched man that I am? who shall deliver me?” But is not a Christian
delivered? is he not saved? is he not accepted in the Beloved? is he not
sealed by that Holy Spirit of promise? is he not united to Christ? ought
he not to know, to enjoy, and to confess all this? Unquestionably. Well,
then, he is no longer, as to his standing, in the seventh of Romans. It
is his privilege to sing the song of victory, at heaven’s side of the
empty tomb of Jesus, and to walk in the holy liberty wherewith Christ
makes His people free. The seventh of Romans is not liberty at all, but
bondage—except, indeed, at the very close, where the soul is able to say,
“I thank God.” No doubt, it may be a very wholesome exercise to pass
through all that is here detailed for us with such marvelous vividness
and power; and furthermore, we must declare that we should vastly prefer
being honestly in the seventh of Romans to being falsely in the eighth.
But all this leaves wholly untouched the question as to the proper
application of this profoundly interesting passage of Scripture.
We shall now glance for a moment at the conflict in Galatians v. 17.
We shall quote the passage. “For the flesh lusteth against the Spirit,
and the Spirit against the flesh: and these are contrary the one to the
other: so that ye cannot do the things that ye would.”[2] This passage
is often quoted to account for continual _defeat_, whereas it really
contains the secret of perpetual _victory_. In verse 16, we read, “This
I say, then, walk in the Spirit, and _ye shall not fulfill_ the lust of
the flesh.” This makes it all so clear. The presence of the Holy Ghost
secures power. We are assured that God is stronger than “the flesh,”
and therefore where He is in conflict, the triumph is secured. And be
it carefully noted that Galatians v. 17 does not speak of the conflict
between the two natures—the old and the new, but between the Holy Ghost
and the flesh. This is the reason why it is added, “In order that ye may
not do the things that ye would.” If the Holy Ghost were not dwelling
in us, we should be sure to fulfill the lust of the flesh; but inasmuch
as He is in us to carry on the warfare, we are no longer obliged to do
wrong, but blessedly enabled to do right.
Now this precisely marks the point of difference between Romans vii.
14, 15 and Galatians v. 17. In the former, we have the new nature, but
not the power of the indwelling Spirit; in the latter, we have not only
the new nature, but also the power of the Holy Ghost. We must ever bear
in mind that the new nature in a believer is dependent. It is dependent
upon the Spirit for power, and upon the Word for guidance. But clearly,
where God the Holy Ghost is, there must be power. He may be grieved and
hindered, but Galatians v. 16 distinctly teaches that if we walk in the
Spirit, we shall have sure and constant victory over the flesh. Hence,
therefore, it would be a very serious mistake indeed to quote Galatians
v. 17 as a reason for a low and carnal walk. Its teaching is designed to
produce the direct opposite.
And now one word on Ephesians vi. 10-17. Here we have the conflict
between the Christian and wicked spirits in heavenly places. The
Church belongs to heaven, and should ever maintain a heavenly walk and
conversation. It should be our constant aim to make good our heavenly
standing—to plant the foot firmly upon our heavenly inheritance, and keep
it there. This, the devil seeks to hinder in every possible way, and
hence the conflict; hence, too, “the whole armor of God,” by which alone
we can stand against our powerful spiritual foe.
It is not our purpose to dwell upon the armor, as we have merely called
the reader’s attention to the above three scriptures in order that he may
have the subject of conflict, in all its phases, fully before his mind,
in connection with the opening lines of the book of Numbers. Nothing can
be more interesting; nor can we possibly overestimate the importance of
being clear as to the real nature and ground of Christian conflict. If we
go forth to war without knowing what the war is about, and in a state of
uncertainty as to whether our “pedigree” is all right, we shall not make
much headway against the enemy.
But, as has been already remarked, there was another thing quite as
necessary for the man of war as the clear declaration of his pedigree,
and that was, the distinct recognition of his standard. The two things
were essential for the walk and warfare of the wilderness. Moreover,
they were inseparable. If a man did not know his pedigree, he could not
recognize his standard, and thus all would have been plunged in hopeless
confusion. In place of keeping rank, and making steady progress, they
would have been in each others way, and treading one upon another. Each
had to know his post and keep it—to know his standard and abide by it.
Thus they moved on together; thus progress was made, work done, and
warfare carried on. The Benjamite had his post, and the Ephraimite had
his, and neither was to interfere with or cross the path of the other.
Thus with all the tribes throughout the camp of the Israel of God.
Each had his pedigree, and each had his post; and neither the one nor
the other was according to their own thoughts: all was of God. He gave
the pedigree, and He assigned the standard; nor was there any need of
comparing one with another, or any ground of jealousy one of another;
each had his place to fill and his work to do, and there was work enough
and room enough for all. There was the greatest possible variety, and yet
the most perfect unity. “Every man of the children of Israel shall pitch
by his own standard, with the ensign of their father’s house.” “And the
children of Israel did according to all that the Lord commanded Moses; so
they pitched by their standards, and so they set forward, every one after
their families, according to the house of their fathers.” (Chap. ii. 2,
34.)
Thus, in the camp of old, as well as in the Church now, we learn that
“God is not the Author of confusion.” Nothing could be more exquisitely
arranged than the four camps, of three tribes each, forming a perfect
square, each side of the square exhibiting its own specific standard.
“Every man of the children of Israel shall pitch by his own standard,
with the ensign of their father’s house: over against the tabernacle of
the congregation shall they pitch.” The God of the armies of Israel knew
how to marshal His hosts. It would be a great mistake to suppose that
God’s warriors were not ordered according to the most perfect system of
military tactics. We may plume ourselves upon our progress in arts and
sciences, and we may fancy that the host of Israel presented a spectacle
of rude disorder and wild confusion, compared with what may be seen in
modern times; but this would be an empty conceit. We may rest assured
that the camp of Israel was ordered and furnished in the most perfect
manner, for the simplest and most conclusive of all reasons, namely, that
it was ordered and furnished by the hand of God. Grant us but this, that
God has done any thing, and we argue, with the most perfect confidence,
that it has been perfectly done.
This is a very simple, but a very blessed principle. Of course it would
not satisfy an infidel or a skeptic; what would? It is the province and
prerogative of a skeptic to doubt every thing, to believe nothing. He
measures every thing by his own standard, and rejects whatever he cannot
reconcile with his own notions. He lays down, with marvelous coolness,
his own premises, and then proceeds to draw his own conclusions; but if
the premises are false, the conclusions must be false likewise. And there
is this invariable feature attaching to the premises of all skeptics,
rationalists, and infidels—_they always leave out God_; and hence all
their conclusions must be fatally false. On the other hand, the humble
believer starts with this great first principle, that God IS; and not
only that He is, but that He has to do with His creatures; that He
interests Himself in, and occupies Himself about, the affairs of men.
What consolation for the Christian! But infidelity will not allow this at
all. To bring God in is to upset all the reasonings of the skeptic, for
they are based upon the thorough exclusion of God.
However, we are not now writing in order to meet infidels, but for the
edification of believers; and yet it is sometimes well to call attention
to the thorough rottenness of the whole system of infidelity; and
surely, in no way can this be more clearly or forcibly shown than by
the fact that it rests entirely upon the exclusion of God. Let this
fact be seized, and the whole system crumbles into dust at our feet. If
we believe that God is, then assuredly every thing must be viewed in
relation to Him. We must look at all from His point of view. Nor is this
all. If we believe that God is, then we must see that man cannot judge
Him. God must be the judge of right or wrong, of what is and what is not
worthy of Himself. So also in reference to God’s Word. If it be true that
God is, and that He has spoken to us—He has given us a revelation, then
assuredly that revelation is not to be judged by man’s reason. It is
above and beyond any such tribunal. Only think of measuring God’s Word by
the rules of human arithmetic! And yet this is precisely what has been
done, in our own day, with this blessed book of Numbers, with which we
are now engaged, and with which we shall proceed, leaving infidelity and
its arithmetic aside.
We feel it very needful, in our notes and reflections on this book, as
well as on every other book, to remember two things, namely, first,
the _book_; and secondly, the _soul_,—the book and its contents; the
soul and its necessities. There is a danger of becoming so occupied
with the former as to forget the latter; and on the other hand, there
is the danger of becoming so wholly engrossed with the latter as to
forget the former. Both must be attended to. And we may say that what
constitutes an efficient ministry, whether written or oral, is the proper
adjustment of these two things. There are some ministers who study the
Word very diligently, and, it may be, very profoundly; they are well
versed in biblical knowledge; they have drunk deeply at the fountain
of inspiration. All this is of the utmost importance, and of the very
highest value. A ministry without this will be barren indeed. If a man
does not study his Bible diligently and prayerfully, he will have little
to give to his readers or his hearers—at least, little worth their
having. Those who minister in the Word must dig for themselves, and “_dig
deep_.”
But then the _soul_ must be considered—its condition anticipated, and its
necessities met. If this be lost sight of, the ministry will lack point,
pungency, and power. It will be inefficient and unfruitful. In short,
the two things must be combined and properly adjusted. A man who merely
studies the _book_ will be unpractical; a man who merely studies the
_soul_ will be unfurnished; a man who duly studies _both_ will be a good
minister of Jesus Christ.
Now, we desire, in our measure, to be this to the reader; and hence, as
we travel, in his company, through the marvelous book which lies open
before us, we would not only seek to point out its moral beauties and
unfold its holy lessons, but we would also feel it to be our bounden duty
to put an occasional question to him or her, as to how far those lessons
are being learnt and those beauties appreciated. We trust the reader
will not object to this, and hence, ere we close this our first section,
we would ask him a question or two thereon.
And first, then, dear friend, Art thou clear and settled as to thy
“pedigree”? is it a settled thing that thou art on the Lord’s side? Do
not, we beseech thee, leave this grand question unsettled. We have asked
it before, and we ask it again. Dost thou know, canst thou declare, thy
spiritual pedigree? It is the first thing for God’s warrior. It is of no
use to think of entering the militant host so long as you are unsettled
as to this point. We say not that a man cannot be saved without this. Far
be the thought. But he cannot take rank as a man of war. He cannot do
battle with the world, the flesh, and the devil so long as he is filled
with doubts and fears as to whether he belongs to the true spiritual
stock. If there is to be any progress, if there is to be that decision so
essential to a spiritual warrior, we must be able to say, “_We know_ that
we have passed from death unto life”—“_We know_ that we are of God.”
This is the proper language of a man of war. Not one of that mighty host
that mustered “over against the tabernacle of the congregation” would
have understood such a thing as a single doubt, or shadow of a doubt,
as to _his own very pedigree_. Doubtless, he would have smiled had
any one raised a question on the subject. Each one of the six hundred
thousand knew well whence he had sprung, and therefore where he was to
take his stand. And just so with God’s militant host now. Each member
thereof will need to possess the most unclouded confidence as to his
relationship, else he will not be able to stand in the battle.
And then as to the “standard.” What is it? Is it a doctrine? Nay. Is it
a theological system? Nay. Is it an ecclesiastical polity? Nay. Is it a
system of ordinances, rites, or ceremonies? Nothing of the sort. God’s
warriors do not fight under any such banner. What is the standard of
God’s militant host? Let us hear and remember. It is Christ. This is the
only standard of God, and the only standard of that warrior-band which
musters in this wilderness-world to wage war with the hosts of evil and
fight the battles of the Lord. Christ is the standard for every thing. To
have any other would only unfit us for that spiritual conflict to which
we are called. What have we, _as Christians_, to do with contending for
any system of theology or church organization? Of what account, in our
estimation, are ordinances, ceremonies, or ritualistic observances? Are
we going to fight under such banners as these? God forbid! Our theology
is the Bible; our church-organization is the one Body, formed by the
presence of the Holy Ghost, and united to the living and exalted Head in
the heavens. To contend for any thing less than these is entirely below
the mark of a true spiritual warrior.
Alas! alas! that so many who profess to belong to the Church of God
should so forget their proper standard, and be found fighting under
another banner. We may rest assured it superinduces weakness, falsifies
the testimony, and hinders progress. If we would stand in the day of
battle, we must acknowledge no standard whatsoever but Christ and His
word—the living Word and the written word. Here lies our security in
the face of all spiritual foes. The more closely we adhere to Christ,
and to Him _alone_, the stronger and the safer we shall be. To have Him
as a perfect covering for our eyes,—to keep close to Him—fast by His
side, this is our grand moral safeguard. “The children of Israel shall
pitch their tents, every man by his own camp, and every man by his own
standard, throughout their hosts.”
Oh that thus it may be throughout all the host of the Church of God!
May all be laid aside for Christ. May He be enough for our hearts. As
we trace our “pedigree” up to Him, may His name be inscribed on the
“standard” around which we encamp in this wilderness, through which we
are passing home to our eternal rest above. Reader, see to it, we beseech
thee, that there be not one jot or tittle inscribed on thy banner save
Jesus Christ—that name which is above every name, and which shall yet be
exalted forever throughout the wide universe of God.
CHAPTERS III. & IV.
What a marvelous spectacle was the camp of Israel in that waste howling
wilderness! What a spectacle to angels, to men, and to devils! God’s eye
ever rested upon it. His presence was there. He dwelt in the midst of
His militant people. It was there He found His habitation. He did not,
He could not, find His abode amid the splendors of Egypt, of Assyria, or
of Babylon. No doubt those nations presented much that was attractive
to nature’s eye. The arts and sciences were cultivated amongst them.
Civilization had reached a far loftier point amongst those ancient
nations than we moderns are disposed to admit. Refinement and luxury were
probably carried to as great an extent there as amongst those who put
forth very lofty pretensions.
But, be it remembered, Jehovah was not known among those nations; His
name had never been revealed to them; He did not dwell in their midst.
True, there were the ten thousand testimonies to His creative power; and
moreover, His superintending providence was over them,—He gave them rain
and fruitful seasons, filling their hearts with food and gladness; the
blessings and benefits of His liberal hand were showered upon them from
day to day and year to year; His showers fertilized their fields, His
sunbeams gladdened their hearts: but they knew Him not, and cared not
for Him. His dwelling was not there. Not one of those nations could say,
“Jehovah is my strength and song, and He is become my salvation: He is
my God, and I will prepare Him a habitation; my father’s God, and I will
exalt Him.” (Ex. xv. 2.)
Jehovah found His abode in the bosom of His redeemed people, and no where
else. Redemption was the necessary basis of God’s habitation amongst
men. Apart from redemption, the divine presence could only prove the
destruction of man; but redemption being known, that presence secures
man’s highest privilege and brightest glory.
God dwelt in the midst of His people Israel. He came down from heaven,
not only to redeem them out of the land of Egypt, but to be their
traveling-companion through the wilderness. What a thought! The Most
High God taking up His abode on the sand of the desert, and in the very
bosom of His redeemed congregation! Truly, there was nothing like that
throughout the wide, wide world. There was that host of six hundred
thousand men, beside women and children, in a sterile desert, where
there was not a blade of grass, not a drop of water—no visible source of
subsistence. How were they to be fed? God was there! How were they to be
kept in order? God was there! How were they to track their way through a
howling wilderness, where there was no way? God was there!
In a word, God’s presence secured every thing. Unbelief might say,
What! are three millions of people to be fed on air? Who has charge of
the commissariat? where are the military stores? where is the baggage?
who is to attend to the clothing? Faith alone could answer, and its
answer is simple, brief, and conclusive,—God was there! And that was
quite sufficient. All is comprehended in that one sentence. In faith’s
arithmetic, God is the only significant figure; and having Him, you may
add as many ciphers as you please. If all your springs are in the living
God, it ceases to be a question of your need, and resolves itself into a
question of His sufficiency.
What were six hundred thousand footmen to the Almighty God? what the
varied necessities of their wives and children? In man’s estimation,
these things might seem overwhelming. England has just sent out ten
thousand troops to Abyssinia; but only think of the enormous expense and
labor—think of the number of transports required to convey provisions and
other necessaries for that small army. But imagine an army sixty times
the size, together with the women and children; conceive this enormous
host entering upon a march that was to extend over the space of forty
years, through “a great and terrible wilderness,” in which there was
no corn, no grass, no water-spring. How were they to be sustained? No
supplies with them, no arrangements entered into with friendly nations
to forward supplies, no transports dispatched to meet them at various
points along their route; in short, not a single visible source of
supply—nothing that nature would consider available.
All this is something worth pondering. But we must ponder it in the
divine presence. It is of no possible use for reason to sit down and
try to solve this mighty problem by human arithmetic. No, reader; it is
only faith that can solve it, and that, moreover, by the Word of the
living God. Here lies the precious solution. Bring God in, and you want
no other factors to work out your answer; leave Him out, and the more
powerful your reason, and the more profound your arithmetic, the more
hopeless must be your perplexity.
Thus it is that faith settles the question. God was in the midst of His
people. He was there in all the fullness of His grace and mercy—there
in His perfect knowledge of His people’s wants, and of the difficulties
of their path—there in His almighty power and boundless resources, to
meet these difficulties and supply these wants. And so fully did He
enter into all these things, that He was able, at the close of their
long wilderness-wanderings, to appeal to their hearts in the following
touching accents: “For the Lord thy God hath blessed thee in all the
works of thy hand; He knoweth thy walking through this great wilderness:
these forty years the Lord thy God hath been with thee; _thou hast lacked
nothing_.” And again, “Thy raiment waxed not old upon thee, neither did
thy foot swell, these forty years.” (Deut. ii. 7; viii. 4.)
Now, in all these things, the camp of Israel was a type—a vivid, striking
type. A type of what? A type of the Church of God passing through this
world. The testimony of Scripture is so distinct on this point, as to
leave no room and no demand for the exercise of imagination.—“All these
things happened unto them for ensamples; and they are written for our
admonition, upon whom the ends of the world are come.” (1 Cor. x. 11.)
Hence, therefore, we may draw near and gaze, with intense interest, upon
that marvelous spectacle, and seek to gather up the precious lessons
which it is so eminently fitted to teach. And, oh, what lessons! Who
can duly estimate them? Look at that mysterious camp in the desert,
composed, as we have said, of warriors, workers, and worshipers. What
separation from all the nations of the world! what utter helplessness!
what exposure! what absolute dependence upon God! They had nothing, could
do nothing, could know nothing. They had not a morsel of food nor a drop
of water, but as they received it day by day from the immediate hand of
God. When they retired to rest at night, there was not a single atom of
provision for the morrow. There was no storehouse, no larder, no visible
source of supply—nothing that nature could take any account of.
But God was there, and that, in the judgment of faith, was quite enough.
_They were shut up to God._ This is the one grand reality. Faith owns
nothing real, nothing solid, nothing true, but the one true, living,
eternal God. Nature might cast a longing look at the granaries of Egypt,
and see something tangible, something substantial there: faith looks up
to heaven and finds _all_ its springs there.
Thus it was with the camp in the desert, and thus it is with the Church
in the world. There was not a single exigency, not a single contingency,
not a single need of any sort whatsoever, for which the Divine Presence
was not an all-sufficient answer. The nations of the uncircumcised might
look on and marvel; they might, in the bewilderment of blind unbelief,
raise many a question as to how such a host could ever be fed, clothed,
and kept in order. Most certainly they had no eyes to _see_ how it
could be done. They knew not Jehovah, the Lord God of the Hebrews; and
therefore to tell them that He was going to undertake for that vast
assembly would indeed seem like idle tales.
And so it is now, in reference to the assembly of God, in this world,
which may truly be termed a moral wilderness. Looked at from God’s point
of view, that assembly is not of the world; it is in complete separation.
It is as thoroughly apart from the world as the camp of Israel was apart
from Egypt. The waters of the Red Sea rolled between that camp and Egypt;
and the deeper and darker waters of the death of Christ roll between the
Church of God and this present evil world. It is impossible to conceive
separation more complete. “They,” says our Lord Christ, “are not of the
world, even as I am not of the world.” (John xvii.)
Then, as to entire dependence, what can be more dependent than the
Church of God in this world? She has nothing in or of herself. She is
set down in the midst of a moral desert, a dreary waste, a vast howling
wilderness, in the which there is literally nothing on which she can
live. There is not one drop of water, not a single morsel of suited food,
for the Church of God throughout the entire compass of this world.
So also as to the matter of exposure to all sorts of hostile influences.
Nothing can exceed it. There is not so much as one friendly influence.
All is against her. She is in the midst of this world like an exotic—a
plant belonging to a foreign clime, and set down in a sphere where both
the soil and the atmosphere are uncongenial.
Such is the Church of God in the world—a separated, dependent,
defenseless thing, wholly cast upon the living God. It is calculated to
give great vividness, force, and clearness to our thoughts about the
Church to view it as the antitype of the camp in the desert; and that it
is in no wise fanciful or far-fetched to view it thus, 1 Corinthians x.
11 does most clearly show. We are fully warranted in saying that what the
camp of Israel was literally, that the Church is morally and spiritually.
And further, that what the wilderness was literally to Israel, that the
world is morally and spiritually to the Church of God. The wilderness was
the sphere of Israel’s toil and danger, not of their supplies or their
enjoyment; and the world is the sphere of the Church’s toil and danger,
not of its supplies or its enjoyment.
It is well to seize this fact, in all its moral power. The assembly of
God in the world, like “the congregation in the wilderness,” is wholly
cast upon the living God. We speak, be it remembered, from the divine
stand-point—of what the Church is in God’s sight. Looked at from man’s
point of view—looked at as she is in her own actual practical state, it
is, alas! another thing. We are now only occupied with the normal, the
true, the divine idea of God’s assembly in this world.
And let it not be forgotten for one moment, that as truly as there
was a camp in the desert of old—a congregation in the wilderness, so
truly is there the Church of God—the body of Christ—in the world now.
Doubtless, the nations of the world knew little and cared less about that
congregation of old; but that did not weaken or touch the great living
fact. So now, the men of the world know little and care less about the
assembly of God—the body of Christ; but that in no wise touches the
grand living truth that there is such a thing actually existing in this
world, and _has been_ ever since the Holy Ghost descended on the day of
Pentecost. True, the congregation of old had its trials, its conflicts,
its sorrows, its temptations, its strifes, its controversies, its
internal commotions, its numberless and nameless difficulties, calling
for the varied resources that were in God—the precious ministrations of
prophet, priest, and king which God had provided; for, as we know, Moses
was there as “king in Jeshurun,” and as the prophet raised up of God; and
Aaron was there to exercise all the priestly functions.
But in spite of all these things that we have named—in spite of the
weakness, the failure, the sin, the rebellion, the strife—still there
was the striking fact, to be taken cognizance of by men, by devils, and
by angels, namely, a vast congregation, amounting to something like
three millions of people (according to the usual mode of computation)
journeying through a wilderness, wholly dependent upon an unseen
arm, guided and cared for by the eternal God, whose eye was never for
one moment withdrawn from that mysterious typical host; yea, He dwelt
in their midst, and never left them, in all their unbelief, their
forgetfulness, their ingratitude, and rebellion. God was there to sustain
and guide, to guard and keep them day and night. He fed them with bread
from heaven day by day, and He brought them forth water out of the flinty
rock.
This, assuredly, was a stupendous fact—a profound mystery. God had a
congregation in the wilderness—apart from the nations around, shut up to
Himself. It may be the nations of the world knew nothing, cared nothing,
thought nothing, about this assembly. It is certain the desert yielded
nothing in the way of sustenance or refreshment. There were serpents
and scorpions,—there were snares and dangers—drought, barrenness, and
desolation; but there was that wonderful assembly maintained in a manner
that baffled and confounded human reason.
And, reader, remember, this was a type. A type of what? A type of
something that has been in existence for over eighteen centuries; is in
existence still; and shall be in existence until the moment that our
Lord Christ rises from His present position and descends into the air.
In one word, a type of the Church of God in the world. How important to
recognize this fact! How sadly it has been lost sight of! how little
understood, even now! And yet every Christian is solemnly responsible to
recognize, and practically to confess it. There is no escaping it. Is it
true that there is something in this world at this very moment answering
to the camp in the desert? Yes, verily; there is, in very truth, the
Church in the wilderness. There is an assembly passing through this
world, just as the literal Israel passed through the literal desert. And
moreover, the world is morally and spiritually to that Church what the
desert was literally and practically to Israel of old. Israel found no
springs in the desert; and the Church of God should find no springs in
the world. If she does, she proves false to her Lord. Israel was not of
the desert, but passing through it; and the Church of God is not of the
world, but passing through it.
If this be thoroughly entered into by the reader, it will show him the
place of complete separation which belongs to the Church of God as a
whole, and to each individual member thereof. The Church, _in God’s view
of her_, is as thoroughly marked off from this present world as the camp
of Israel was marked off from the surrounding desert. There is as little
in common between the Church and the world as there was between Israel
and the sand of the desert. The most brilliant attractions and bewitching
fascinations of the world are to the Church of God what the serpents and
scorpions and the ten thousand other dangers of the wilderness were to
Israel.
Such is the divine idea of the Church; and it is with this idea that we
are now occupied. Alas! alas! how different it is with that which calls
itself the Church! But we want the reader to dwell, for the present,
on the true thing; we want him to place himself, by faith, at God’s
stand-point, and view the Church from thence. It is only by so doing that
he can have any thing like a true idea of what the Church is, or of his
own personal responsibility with respect to it. God _has_ a Church in the
world. There _is_ a body now on the earth, indwelt by God the Spirit, and
united to Christ the Head. This Church—this body—is composed of all those
who truly believe on the Son of God, and who are united by the grand fact
of the presence of the Holy Ghost.
And be it observed, this is not a matter of opinion—a certain thing
which we may take up or lay down at pleasure. It is a divine fact; it
is a grand truth, whether we will hear or whether we will forbear. The
Church is an existing thing, and we, if believers, are members thereof.
We cannot avoid this: we cannot ignore it. We are actually in the
relationship—baptized into it by the Holy Ghost. It is as real and as
positive a thing as the birth of a child into a family. The birth has
taken place, the relationship is formed, and we have only to recognize
it, and walk in the sense of it from day to day. The very moment in which
a soul is born again—born from above, and sealed by the Holy Ghost, he is
incorporated into the body of Christ. He can no longer view himself as
a solitary individual, an independent person, an isolated atom; he is a
member of a body, just as the hand or the foot is a member of the human
body. He is a member of _the_ Church of God, and cannot, properly and
truly, be a member of any thing else. How could my arm be a member of any
other body? And on the same principle, we may ask, How could a member of
the body of Christ be a member of any other body?
What a glorious truth is this respecting the Church of God—the antitype
of the camp in the desert—“the congregation in the wilderness!” What a
fact to be governed by! There _is_ such a thing as the Church of God amid
all the ruin and the wreck, the strife and the discord, the confusion
and division, the sects and parties. This, surely, is a most precious
truth. But not only is it most precious, it is also most practical and
formative. We are as bound to recognize, by faith, this Church in the
world, as the Israelite was bound to recognize, by sight, the camp in the
desert. There _was_ one camp—one congregation, and the true Israelite
belonged thereto; there _is_ one Church—one body, and the true Christian
belongs to it.
But how is this body organized? By the Holy Ghost, as it is written, “By
one Spirit are we all baptized into one body.” (1 Cor. xii. 13.) How is
it maintained? By its living Head, through the Spirit, and by the Word,
as it is written, “No man ever yet hated his own flesh; but nourisheth
and cherisheth it, even as the Lord the Church.” (Eph. v. 29.) Is not
this enough? Is not the Lord Christ sufficient? Doth not the Holy Ghost
suffice? Do we want any thing more than the varied virtues that are
lodged in the name of Jesus? Are not the gifts of the Eternal Spirit
quite sufficient for the growth and maintenance of the Church of God?
Doth not the fact of the divine presence in the Church, secure _all_
that the Church can possibly need? Is it not sufficient for “exigence
of every hour”? Faith says—and says it with emphasis and decision,—Yes!
Unbelief—human reason, says, No; we want a great many things as well.
What is our brief reply? Simply this: If God be not sufficient, we know
not whither to turn; if the name of Jesus doth not suffice, we know not
what to do; if the Holy Ghost cannot meet all our need, in communion, in
ministry, and in worship, we know not what to say.
It may, however, be said that “things are not as they were in apostolic
times. The professing church has failed; pentecostal gifts have ceased;
the palmy days of the Church’s first love have passed away; and therefore
we must adopt the best means in our power for the organization and
maintenance of our churches.” To all this we reply, God has not failed;
Christ, the Head of the Church, has not failed; the Holy Spirit has not
failed; not one jot or tittle of God’s Word has failed. This is the
true ground of faith. “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, to-day, and
forever.” He has said, “Lo, I am with you.” How long? During the days of
first love? during apostolic times? so long as the Church shall continue
faithful? No; “I am with you _always_, even unto the end of the age.”
(Matt. xxviii.) So also, at an earlier moment, when, for the first
time in the whole canon of Scripture, the Church, properly so called,
is named, we have those memorable words, “On this Rock [the Son of the
living God] I will build My Church, and the gates of hell shall not
prevail against it.” (Matt. xvi.)
Now, the question is, Is that Church on the earth at this moment? Most
assuredly. It is as true that there is a Church now on this earth as
that there was a camp in the desert of old. Yes; and as truly as God was
in that camp to meet every exigence, so truly is He now in the Church
to order and guide in every thing, as we read, “Ye are builded together
for a habitation of God through the Spirit.” (Eph. ii.) This is quite
sufficient. All we want is to lay hold, by a simple faith, of this grand
reality. The name of Jesus is as sufficient for all the exigencies of
the Church of God as it is for the soul’s salvation. The one is as true
as the other. “Where two or three are gathered together in [or, unto]
My name, there am I in the midst.” (Matt. xviii.) Has this ceased to be
true? and if not, is not Christ’s presence quite enough for His Church?
Do we need to set about planning or working for ourselves in church
matters? No more than in the matter of the soul’s salvation. What do
we say to the sinner? Trust Christ. What do we say to the saint? Trust
Christ. What do we say to an assembly of saints, few or many? Trust
Christ. Is there aught that He cannot manage? “Is there a thing too hard
for Him?” Has His treasury of gift and grace become exhausted? Is He
not able to supply ministerial gifts? Can He not furnish evangelists,
pastors, and teachers? Can He not perfectly meet all the manifold
necessities of His Church in the wilderness? If not, where are we? what
shall we do? whither shall we turn? What had the congregation of old
to do? To look to Jehovah. For every thing? Yes; for every thing,—for
food, for water, for clothing, for guidance, for protection, for all.
All their springs were in Him. Must we turn to some one else? Never. Our
Lord Christ is amply sufficient, in spite of all our failure and ruin,
our sin and unfaithfulness. He has sent down the Holy Ghost, the blessed
Paraclete, to dwell with and in His people—to form them into one body,
and unite them to their living head in heaven. He is the power of unity,
of communion, of ministry, and of worship. He has not left us, and He
never will. Only let us trust Him; let us use Him; let us give Him room
to act. Let us carefully guard against every thing that might tend to
quench, to hinder, or to grieve Him. Let us acknowledge Him, in His own
proper place in the assembly, and yield ourselves, in all things, to His
guidance and authority.
Here, we are persuaded, lies the true secret of power and blessing. Do we
deny the ruin? How could we? Alas! alas! it stands forth as a fact too
palpable and glaring to admit of denial. Do we seek to deny our share
in the ruin—our folly and sin? Would to God we felt it more deeply! But
shall we add to our sin by denying our Lord’s grace and power to meet
us in our folly and ruin? Shall we forsake Him, the Fountain of living
waters, and hew out for ourselves broken cisterns that can hold no water?
Shall we turn from the Rock of Ages and lean upon the broken reeds of our
own devising? God forbid! Rather let the language of our hearts be, as we
think of the name of Jesus,—
“Salvation in that name is found,
Cure for my grief and care;
A healing balm for every wound,
_All, all I want is there_.”
But let not the reader suppose that we want to lend the smallest
countenance to ecclesiastical pretention. We perfectly abhor any such
thing. We look upon it as utterly contemptible. We believe we cannot
possibly take too low a place. A low place and a lowly spirit are
what alone become us in view of our common sin and shame. All we seek
to maintain is this, the all-sufficiency of the name of Jesus for
all the exigencies of the Church of God, at all times and under all
circumstances. There was all power in that name in apostolic times,
and why not now? Has any change passed over that glorious name? No,
blessed be God. Well, then, it is sufficient for us at this moment, and
all we want is to confide in it fully, and to show that we so confide
by discarding thoroughly every other ground of confidence, and coming
out, with bold decision, to that peerless and precious name. He has,
blessed be His name, come down to the smallest congregation—the smallest
plurality, inasmuch as He has said, “Where _two_ or three are gathered
together in My name, there am I.” Does this still hold good? has it lost
its power? does it no longer apply? Where has it been repealed?
Oh, Christian reader, we call upon you, by every argument which ought
to weigh with your heart, to give your cordial assent and consent to
this one eternal truth, namely, _The all-sufficiency of the name of the
Lord Jesus Christ for the assembly of God, in every possible condition
in which it can be found, throughout its entire history_.[3] We call
upon you not merely to hold this as a true theory, but to confess it
practically; and then, assuredly, you will taste the deep blessedness of
the presence of Jesus in the outside place—a blessedness which must be
tasted in order to be known; but when once really tasted, it can never be
forgotten or surrendered for aught beside.
But we had no intention of pursuing the foregoing line of thought so far,
or of penning such a lengthened introduction to the section of our book
which lies open before us, and to which we shall now invite the reader’s
particular attention.
On looking attentively at “the congregation in the wilderness” (Acts vii.
38.), we find it composed of three distinct elements, namely, _warriors_,
_workers_, and _worshipers_. There was a _nation_ of warriors, a _tribe_
of workers, a _family_ of worshipers, or priests. We have glanced at the
first of these, and seen each one, according to his “pedigree,” taking up
his position by his “standard,” according to the direct appointment of
Jehovah; and we shall now dwell for a few moments on the second, and see
each one at his work and service, according to the same appointment. We
have considered the warriors; let us meditate on the workers.
The Levites were distinctly marked off from all the other tribes, and
called to a very specific place and service. Thus we read of them, “But
the Levites after the tribe of their fathers were not numbered among
them. For the Lord had spoken unto Moses, saying, ‘Only thou shalt not
number the tribe of Levi, neither take the sum of them among the children
of Israel. But thou shalt appoint the Levites over the tabernacle of
testimony, and over all the vessels thereof, and over all things that
belong to it: they shall bear the tabernacle, and all the vessels
thereof; and they shall minister unto it, and shall encamp round about
the tabernacle. And when the tabernacle setteth forward, the Levites
shall take it down; and when the tabernacle is to be pitched, the Levites
shall set it up: and the stranger that cometh nigh shall be put to death.
And the children of Israel shall pitch their tents, every man by his own
camp, and every man by his own standard, throughout their hosts. But the
Levites shall pitch round about the tabernacle of testimony, that there
be no wrath upon the congregation of the children of Israel; and the
Levites shall keep the charge of the tabernacle of testimony.’” (Chap. i.
47-53.) And again we read, “But the Levites were not numbered among the
children of Israel, as the Lord commanded Moses.” (Chap. ii. 33.)
But why the Levites? Why was this tribe specially marked off from all the
others, and set apart for so holy and elevated a service? Was there any
special sanctity or goodness about them to account for their being so
distinguished? Not by nature, certainly, nor yet by practice, as we may
see by the following words: “Simeon and Levi are brethren; instruments
of cruelty are in their habitations. O my soul, come not thou into their
secret; unto their assembly, mine honor, be not thou united; for in
_their anger they slew a man_, and in their self-will they digged down
a wall. Cursed be their anger, for it was fierce; and their wrath, for
it was cruel: I will divide them in Jacob, and scatter them in Israel.”
(Gen. xlix.)
Such was Levi by nature and by practice—self-willed, fierce, and cruel.
How remarkable that such an one should be singled out and brought into
a place of such high and holy privilege! Surely, we may say, it was
grace from first to last. It is the way of grace to take up the very
worst cases. It stoops to the lowest depths and gathers up its brightest
trophies from thence. “This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all
acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of
whom I am chief.” (1 Tim. i. 16.) “Unto me, who am less than the least of
all saints, is this grace given, that I should preach among the Gentiles
the unsearchable riches of Christ.” (Eph. iii.)
But how striking the language, “O my soul, come not thou into their
secret; unto their assembly, mine honor, be not thou united.” God is of
purer eyes than to behold evil, and cannot look on iniquity. God could
not come into Levi’s secret, or be united unto his assembly. That was
impossible. God could have naught to do with self-will, fierceness,
and cruelty. But yet He could bring Levi into His secret, and unite
him to His assembly. He could take him out of his habitation, wherein
were instruments of cruelty, and bring him into the tabernacle, to be
occupied with the holy instruments and vessels that were there. This
was grace—free, sovereign grace; and herein must be sought the basis of
all Levi’s blessed and elevated service. So far as he was personally
concerned, there was an immeasurable distance between him and a holy
God—a chasm which no human art or power could bridge. A holy God could
have nothing to do with self-will, fierceness, and cruelty; but a God of
grace could have to do with Levi. He could visit such an one in sovereign
mercy, and raise him up from the depths of his moral degradation, and
bring him into a place of nearness to Himself.
And, oh, what a marvelous contrast between Levi’s position by nature and
his position by grace! between the instruments of cruelty and the vessels
of the sanctuary! between Levi in Genesis xxxiv. and Levi in Numbers iii.
and iv.
But let us look at the mode of God’s dealing with Levi—the ground on
which he was brought into such a place of blessing. In doing this,
it will be needful for us to refer to chapter viii. of our book, and
there we are let into the secret of the whole matter. We shall see that
there was and could be no allowance of aught that belonged to Levi—no
sanction of any of his ways; and yet there was the most perfect display
of grace—grace reigning through righteousness. We speak of the type and
its significance. We do so in view of that statement already referred
to—“Now, all these things happened unto them for types.” It is not a
question of how far the Levites saw through these things. This is not
at all the point. We are not to ask, What did the Levites see in God’s
dealing with them? but, What do we learn?
“And the Lord spake unto Moses, saying, ‘Take the Levites from among
the children of Israel, and cleanse them. And thus shalt thou do unto
them, to cleanse them: Sprinkle water of purifying upon them, and let
them shave all their flesh, and let them wash their clothes, and so make
themselves clean.’” (Chap. viii. 5-7.)
Here we have, in type, the only divine principle of cleansing. It is the
application of death to nature and all its habits: it is the Word of God
brought to bear upon the heart and conscience, in a living way. Nothing
can be more expressive than the double action presented in the above
passage. Moses was to sprinkle water of purifying upon them; and then
they were to shave off all their hair, and wash their garments. There
is great beauty and precision here. Moses, as representing the claims
of God, cleanses the Levites according to those claims; and they, being
cleansed, are able to bring the sharp razor to bear upon all that was the
mere growth of nature, and to wash their garments, which expresses, in
typic form, the cleansing their habits according to the Word of God. This
was God’s way of meeting all that appertained to Levi’s natural state—the
self-will, the fierceness, and the cruelty. The pure water and the sharp
razor were called into action—the washing and shaving had to go on ere
Levi was fit to approach the vessels of the sanctuary.
Thus it is in every case. There is, there can be, no allowance of nature
among God’s workers. There never was a more fatal mistake than to attempt
to enlist nature in the service of God. It matters not how you may
endeavor to improve or regulate it; it is not improvement, but death that
will avail. It is of the very last possible importance for the reader to
lay hold, with clearness and force, of this great practical truth. Man
has been weighed in the balance and found wanting: the plummet has been
applied to him, and he has been found crooked. It is of no possible use
seeking to reform. Nothing will do save the _water_ and the _razor_.
God has closed up man’s history; He has brought it to an end in the
death of Christ. The first grand fact that the Holy Ghost presses upon
the human conscience is, that God has delivered His solemn verdict upon
human nature, and that each one must accept that verdict against himself
personally. It is not a matter of opinion, or a matter of feeling. A
person may say, I do not see, or I do not feel, that I am so bad as you
seem to make out. We reply, That does not affect the question in the
least. God has declared His judgment about us, and it is man’s first duty
to fall in with and bow to that. Of what use would it have been for Levi
to say that he did not agree with what God’s Word had said about him?
Would that, could that, have altered the question as to him? In no wise.
The divine record remained the same whether Levi felt it or not; but
clearly it was the first step in wisdom’s pathway to bow down under the
weight of that record.
All this is expressed, in type, in the “water” and the “razor”—the
“washing” and the “shaving.” Nothing could be more significant or
impressive. These acts set forth the solemn truth of the sentence of
death upon nature, and the execution of judgment upon all that nature
produces.
And what, let us ask, is the meaning of the initiatory act of
Christianity—the act of baptism? Does it not set forth the blessed fact
that “our old man”—our fallen nature—is completely set aside, and that
we are introduced into an entirely new position? Truly so. And how do
we use the razor? By rigid self-judgment, day by day; by the stern
disallowance of all that is of nature’s growth. This is the true path for
all God’s workers in the wilderness. When we look at Levi’s conduct at
Shechem, in Genesis xxxiv, and the record concerning him in Genesis xlix,
we may ask, How can such an one ever be allowed to carry the vessels of
the sanctuary? The answer is, Grace shines in Levi’s call, and holiness
shines in Levi’s cleansing. He was called to the work according to the
riches of divine grace; but he was fitted for the work according to the
claims of divine holiness.
Thus it must be with all God’s workers. We are most thoroughly convinced
that we are fit for God’s work just so far as nature is brought under the
power of the cross and the sharp razor of self-judgment. Self-will can
never be made available in the service of God; nay, it must be set aside,
if we would know what true service is. There is, alas! a large amount of
that which passes for service which, if judged in the light of the divine
presence, would be seen to be but the fruit of a restless will. This is
most solemn, and demands our most earnest attention. We cannot exercise
too severe a censorship over ourselves in this very thing. The heart is
so deceitful that we may be led to imagine that we are doing the Lord’s
work, when in reality we are only pleasing ourselves; but if we would
tread the path of true service, we must seek to be more and more apart
from nature. The self-willed Levi must pass through the typic process
of washing and shaving ere he can be employed in that elevated service
assigned him by the direct appointment of the God of Israel.
But ere proceeding to examine particularly the work and service of the
Levites, we must look for a moment at a scene in Exodus xxxii, in which
they act a very prominent and a very remarkable part. We allude, as the
reader will at once perceive, to the golden calf. During the absence of
Moses, the people so completely lost sight of God and His claims as to
set up a molten calf and bow down thereto. This terrible act called for
summary judgment. “And when Moses saw that the people were naked, (for
Aaron had made them naked to their shame among their enemies,) then Moses
stood in the gate of the camp, and said, ‘Who is on the Lord’s side? let
him come unto me.’ And all the sons of Levi gathered themselves together
unto him. And he said unto them, ‘Thus saith the Lord God of Israel, Put
every man his sword by his side, and go in and out from gate to gate
throughout the camp, and slay every man his brother, and every man his
companion, and every man his neighbor.’ And the children of Levi did
according to the word of Moses: and there fell of the people that day
about three thousand men. For Moses had said, ‘Consecrate yourselves
to-day to the Lord, even every man upon his son, and upon his brother;
that He may bestow upon you a blessing this day.’” (Ex. xxxii. 25-29.)
This was a testing moment. It could not be otherwise, when this great
question was pressed home upon the heart and conscience, “_Who is on the
Lord’s side?_” Nothing could be more searching. The question was not, Who
is willing to work? No; it was a far deeper and more searching question.
It was not Who will go here or there—do this or that? There might be a
vast amount of doing and going, and all the while it might be but the
impulse of an unbroken will, which, acting upon religious nature, gave an
appearance of devotedness and piety eminently calculated to deceive one’s
self and others.
But to be “on the Lord’s side” implies the surrender of one’s own
will—yea, the surrender of one’s self, and this is essential to the true
servant—the real workman. Saul of Tarsus was on this ground when he
exclaimed, “Lord, what wilt _Thou_ have _me_ to do?” What words, from the
self-willed, fierce, and cruel persecutor of the Church of God!
“Who is on the Lord’s side?” Reader, art thou? Search and see. Examine
thyself closely. Remember, the question is not at all What art thou
doing? No; it is far deeper. If thou art on the Lord’s side, thou art
ready for any thing and every thing. Thou art ready to stand still, or
ready to go forward; ready to go to the right or to the left; ready to
be active, and ready to be quiet; ready to stand on thy feet, and ready
to lie on thy back. The grand point is this, namely, the surrender of
thyself to the claims of another, and that other the Lord Christ.
This is an immense point. Indeed we know of nothing more important at
the present moment than this searching question, “Who is on the Lord’s
side?” We live in days of immense self-will. Man exults in his liberty.
And this comes out very prominently in religious matters. Just as it was
in the camp of Israel in the days of the thirty-second of Exodus—the
days of the golden calf. Moses was out of sight, and the human will was
at work; the graving-tool was called into operation; and what was the
result? The molten calf; and when Moses returned, he found the people
in idolatry and nakedness. Then came forth the solemn and testing
question, “Who is on the Lord’s side?” This brought things to an issue,
or rather it put people to the test. Nor is it otherwise now. Man’s will
is rampant, and that, too, in matters of religion. Man boasts of his
rights, of the freedom of his will, the freedom of his judgment. There
is the denial of the lordship of Christ; and therefore it behooves us to
look well to it, and see that we really are taking sides with the Lord
against ourselves; that we are in the attitude of simple subjection to
His authority. Then we shall not be occupied with the amount or character
of our service; it will be our one object to do the will of our Lord.
Now, to act thus under the Lord may often give an appearance of
narrowness to our sphere of action; but with this we have nothing
whatever to do. If a master tells his servant to stand in the hall, and
not to stir until he rings the bell, what is the servant’s duty? Clearly
to stand still; nor should he be moved from this position or attitude,
even though his fellow-servants should find fault with his apparent
inactivity and good-for-nothingness; he may rest assured his master will
approve and vindicate. This is enough for any true-hearted servant, whose
one desire will ever be not so much to do a great deal, as to do the will
of his Lord.
In a word, then, the question for the camp of Israel in the day of the
golden calf, and the question for the Church in this day of human will,
is this: “Who is on the Lord’s side?” Momentous question! It is not, Who
is on the side of religiousness, philanthropy, or moral reform? There
may be a large amount of any or all of these things, and yet the will be
thoroughly unbroken. Let us not forget this; nay, rather we should say,
let us continually bear it in mind. We may be very zealous in promoting
all the various schemes of philanthropy, religiousness, and moral reform,
and all the while be ministering to self, and feeding self-will. This
is a most solemn and weighty consideration; and it behooves us to give
earnest heed to it. We are passing through a moment in the which man’s
will is being pampered with unparalleled diligence. We believe, most
assuredly, that the true remedy for this evil will be found wrapped up in
this one weighty question, “Who is on the Lord’s side?” There is immense
practical power in this question. To be really on _the Lord’s_ side is to
be ready for aught to which He may see fit to call us, no matter what. If
the soul is brought to say, in real truth, “_Lord_, what wilt Thou have
me to do?” “Speak, _Lord_, for _Thy servant heareth_,” then we are ready
for every thing. Hence, in the case of the Levites, they were called
to “slay every man his brother, and every man his companion, and every
man his neighbor.” This was terrible work for flesh and blood; but the
moment demanded it. God’s claims had been openly and grossly dishonored;
human invention had been at work, with the graving-tool, and a calf had
been set up; the glory of God had been changed into the similitude of
an ox that eateth grass; and therefore all who were on the Lord’s side
were called to gird on the sword. Nature might say, No; let us be tender
and gentle and gracious. We shall accomplish more by kindness than by
severity. It can do no good to wound people. There is far more power in
love than in harshness. Let us love one another. Thus might nature throw
out its suggestions—thus it might reason and argue; but the command was
distinct and decisive, “Put every man his sword by his side.” The sword
was the only thing when the golden calf was there. To talk of love at
such a moment would be to fling overboard the just claims of the God of
Israel. It belongs to the true spirit of obedience to render the very
service which suits the occasion. A servant has no business to reason; he
is simply to do as he is bid. To raise a question, or put forth a demur,
is to abandon our place as a servant. It might seem most dreadful work
to have to slay a brother, a companion, or a neighbor; but the word of
the Lord was imperative. It left no room for evasion; and the Levites,
through grace, yielded a full and ready obedience. “The children of Levi
did according to the word of Moses.”
This is the only true path for those who will be God’s workers, and
Christ’s servants, in this world where self-will is dominant. It is
immensely important to have the truth of the lordship of Christ deeply
engraved upon the heart. It is the only regulator of the course and
conduct. It settles a thousand questions. If the heart be really subject
to the authority of Christ, it is in readiness for any thing and every
thing to which He calls us, be it to stand still or to go forward, to
do little or much, to be active or passive. To a really obedient heart
the question is not at all, What am I doing? or Where am I going? It is
simply, Am I doing the will of my Lord?
Such was the ground occupied by Levi. And mark the divine comment on
this, as given in Malachi.—“And ye shall know that I have sent this
commandment unto you, that My covenant might be with Levi, saith the Lord
of hosts. My covenant was with him of life and peace; and I gave them
to him for the fear wherewith he feared Me, and was afraid before My
name. The law of truth was in his mouth, and iniquity was not found in
his lips: he walked with Me in peace and equity, and did turn many away
from iniquity.” (Mal. ii. 4-6.) Mark also the blessing pronounced by the
lips of Moses, “And of Levi he said, ‘Let thy Thummim and thy Urim be
with thy holy one, whom thou didst prove at Massah, and with whom thou
didst strive at the waters of Meribah; who said unto his father and to
his mother, I have not seen him; neither did he acknowledge his brethren,
nor knew his own children; for they have observed thy word and kept thy
covenant. They shall teach Jacob thy judgments, and Israel thy law; they
shall put incense before thee, and whole burnt-sacrifice upon thine
altar. Bless, Lord, his substance, and accept the work of his hands:
smite through the loins of them that rise against him, and of them that
hate him, that they rise not again.’” (Deut. xxxiii. 8-11.)
It might have appeared unwarrantably harsh and severe in Levi not to have
seen his parents, or known or acknowledged his brethren. But God’s claims
are paramount, and our Lord Christ hath declared these solemn words,
“If any man come to Me, and hate not his father and mother and wife and
children and brethren and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot
be My disciple.” (Luke xiv. 26.)
These are plain words, and they let us into the secret of what it is
which lies at the bottom of all true service. Let no one imagine that we
are to be without natural affection. Far be the thought. To be so would
be to connect us, morally, with the apostasy of the last days. (See
2 Tim. iii. 3.) But when the claims of natural affection are allowed
to stand in the way of whole-hearted service to Christ, and when the
so-called love of our brethren receives a higher place than faithfulness
to Christ, then are we unfit for His service and unworthy of the name
of His servants. Let it be carefully noted that what formed the _moral_
ground of Levi’s title to be employed in the Lord’s service was the fact
that he did not _see_ his parents, _acknowledge_ his brethren, or _know_
his children. In a word, he was enabled to set the claims of nature
completely aside, and to give the claims of Jehovah the paramount place
in his heart. This, we repeat, is the only true basis of the servant’s
character.
This is a most weighty consideration, and one which demands the most
serious attention of the Christian reader. There may be a vast amount of
what looks like service—a great deal of activity, of coming and going,
of doing and saying—and, all the while, there may not be a single atom
of true Levite service—yea, it may, in God’s estimation, be only the
restless activity of the will. What! it may be said, can the will show
itself in the service of God—in matters of religion? Alas! alas! it
can, and does. And very often the apparent energy and fruitfulness in
work and service is just in proportion to the energy of the will. This
is peculiarly solemn. It calls for the most rigid self-judgment, in the
light of the divine presence. True service doth not consist in great
activity, but in profound subjection to the will of our Lord; and where
this exists, there will be a readiness to sink the claims of parents,
brethren, and children, in order to carry out the will of Him whom we
own as Lord. True, we should love our parents, our brethren, and our
children. It is not that we should love these less, but we should love
Christ more. He and His claims must ever have the paramount place in the
heart, if we would be true workers for God, true servants for Christ,
true Levites in the wilderness. It was this that marked the actings of
Levi on the occasion to which we are referring. God’s claims were in
question, and hence the claims of nature were not to be entertained for a
moment. Parents, brethren, and children, how dear soever these might be,
were not to stand in the way when the glory of the God of Israel had been
changed into the similitude of an ox that eateth grass.
Here lies the whole question, in all its weight and magnitude. The
ties of natural relationship, with all the claims, duties, and
responsibilities arising out of such ties, will ever get their proper
place, their due respect, from those whose hearts and minds and
consciences have been brought under the adjusting power of the truth
of God. Naught, save what is really due to God and His Christ, should
ever be suffered to infringe those rights which are founded upon natural
relationship. This is a most necessary and wholesome consideration, and
one which we would particularly press upon the young Christian reader.
We have ever to be on our guard against a spirit of self-will and
self-pleasing, which is never so dangerous as when it clothes itself in
the garb of religious service and work so called. It behooves us to be
_very sure indeed_ that we are directly and simply governed by the claims
of God when we disregard the claims of natural relationship. In Levi’s
case, the matter was as clear as a sunbeam, and hence the “_sword_”
of judgment, not the kiss of affection, befitted the critical moment.
So also in our history, there are moments in which it would be open
disloyalty to our Lord Christ to hearken for one instant to the voice of
natural relationship.
The above remarks may help the reader to understand the actings of the
Levites in Exodus xxxii, and the words of our Lord in Luke xiv. 26. May
God’s Spirit enable us to realize and exhibit the adjusting power of
truth.
We shall now dwell for a few moments on the consecration of the Levites,
in Numbers viii, in order that we may have the whole subject before our
minds. Truly it is a theme full of instruction for all who desire to be
workers for God.
After the ceremonial acts of “washing” and “shaving” already referred to,
we read, “Then let them [_i. e._, the Levites] take a young bullock with
his meat-offering, even fine flour mingled with oil, and another young
bullock shalt thou take for a sin-offering. And thou shalt bring the
Levites before the tabernacle of the congregation: and thou shalt gather
the whole assembly of the children of Israel together: and thou shalt
bring the Levites before the Lord: and the children of Israel shall put
their hands upon the Levites: and Aaron shall offer the Levites before
the Lord for an offering of the children of Israel, that they may execute
the service of the Lord. And the Levites shall lay their hands upon the
heads of the bullocks; and thou shalt offer the one for a sin-offering,
and the other for a burnt-offering, unto the Lord, to make an atonement
for the Levites.”
Here we have presented to us, in type, the two grand aspects of the
death of Christ. The sin-offering furnishes the one, the burnt-offering
furnishes the other. Into the details of those offerings we do not enter
here, having sought to do so in the opening chapters of our “Notes on
Leviticus.” We would merely observe here that in the sin-offering we see
Christ bearing sin in His own body on the tree, and enduring the wrath
of God against sin; in the burnt-offering, we see Christ glorifying God
even in the very matter of making atonement for sin. Atonement is made in
both; but in the former, it is atonement according to the depth of the
sinner’s need; in the latter, it is atonement according to the measure
of Christ’s devotedness to God. In that, we see the hatefulness of sin;
in this, the preciousness of Christ. It is, we need hardly say, the same
atoning death of Christ, but presented in two distinct aspects.[4]
Now, the Levites laid their hands on both the sin-offering and the
burnt-offering; and this act of the imposition of hands expressed the
simple fact of identification. But how different the result in each case!
When Levi laid his hands on the head of the sin-offering, it involved
the transfer of all his sins, of all his guilt, of all his fierceness,
cruelty, and self-will to the victim; and on the other hand, when he laid
his hands on the head of the burnt-offering, it involved the transfer
of all the acceptableness of the sacrifice, of all its perfectness, to
Levi. Of course, we speak of what the type set forth. We do not undertake
to state aught as to Levi’s intelligent entrance into these things; we
merely seek to unfold the meaning of the ceremonial figure; and, most
assuredly, no figure could be more expressive than the imposition of
hands, whether we view it in the case of the sin-offering or in the case
of the burnt-offering. The doctrine of all this is embodied in that most
weighty passage at the close of 2 Cor. v., “He hath made Him [Christ] to
be sin for us, who knew no sin, that we might become the righteousness of
God in Him.” “‘And thou shalt set the Levites before Aaron, and before
his sons, and offer them for an offering unto the Lord. Thus shalt thou
separate the Levites from among the children of Israel; and the Levites
shall be Mine. And after that shall the Levites go in to do the service
of the tabernacle of the congregation; and thou shalt cleanse them, and
offer them for an offering. For they are wholly given unto Me from among
the children of Israel; instead of such as open every womb, even instead
of the first-born of all the children of Israel, have I taken them unto
Me. For all the first-born of the children of Israel are Mine, both man
and beast: on the day that I smote every first-born in the land of
Egypt I sanctified them for Myself. And I have taken the Levites for all
the first-born of the children of Israel. And I have given the Levites
as a gift to Aaron and to his sons from among the children of Israel,
to do the service of the children of Israel in the tabernacle of the
congregation, and to make an atonement for the children of Israel: that
there be no plague among the children of Israel, when the children of
Israel come nigh unto the sanctuary.’ And Moses and Aaron and all the
congregation of the children of Israel did to the Levites according unto
all that the Lord commanded Moses concerning the Levites, so did the
children of Israel unto them.” (Num. viii. 13-20.)
How forcibly are we reminded, by the foregoing lines, of the words of our
Lord in John xvii.—“I have manifested Thy name unto the men which Thou
gavest Me out of the world: Thine they were, and Thou gavest them Me; and
they have kept Thy word.... I pray for them: I pray not for the world,
but for them which Thou hast given Me; for they are Thine. And all Mine
are Thine, and Thine are Mine; and I am glorified in them.” (Ver. 6-10.)
The Levites were a separated people—God’s special possession. They
took the place of all the first-born in Israel—of those who were saved
from the sword of the destroyer by the blood of the lamb. They were,
typically, a dead and risen people, set apart to God, and by Him
presented as a gift to Aaron the high-priest, to do the service of the
tabernacle.
What a place for the self-willed, fierce, and cruel Levi! What a triumph
of grace! What an illustration of the efficacy of the blood of atonement
and the water of purification! They were, by nature and by practice, far
off from God; but the “blood” of atonement, and the “water” of cleansing,
and the “razor” of self-judgment, had done their blessed work, and hence
the Levites were in a condition to be presented as a gift to Aaron and
to his sons, to be associated with them in the hallowed services of the
tabernacle of the congregation.
In all this the Levites were a striking type of God’s people now. These
latter have been lifted from the depths of their degradation and ruin
as sinners. They are washed in the precious blood of Christ, purified
by the application of the Word, and called to the exercise of habitual
and rigid self-judgment. Thus are they fitted for that holy service to
the which they are called. God has given them to His Son, in order that
they may be His workers in this world. “Thine they were, and Thou gavest
them Me.” Wondrous thought! To think that such as we could be thus spoken
of! To think of our being God’s property and God’s gift to His Son! Well
may we say it surpasses all human thought. It is not merely that we are
saved from hell; that is true: it is not merely that we are pardoned,
justified, and accepted; all this is true: but we are called to the high
and holy work of bearing through this world the name, the testimony, the
glory, of our Lord Jesus Christ. This is our work as true Levites. As
men of war, we are called to fight; as priests, we are privileged to
worship; but as Levites, we are responsible to serve, and our service is
to carry through this dreary desert scene the Antitype of the tabernacle,
and that tabernacle was the figure of Christ. This is our distinct line
of service. To this we are called; to this we are set apart.
The reader will, we doubt not, notice, with interest, the fact that it
is in this book of Numbers, and here alone, that we are furnished with
all the precious and deeply instructive details respecting the Levites.
In this we have a fresh illustration of the character of our book. It is
from a wilderness stand-point that we get a full and proper view of God’s
workers as well as of God’s warriors.
And now, let us examine, for a few moments, the service of the Levites,
as detailed in Numbers iii. and iv.—“And the Lord spake unto Moses,
saying, ‘Bring the tribe of Levi near, and present them before Aaron the
priest, that they may minister unto him. And they shall keep his charge,
and the charge of the whole congregation before the tabernacle of the
congregation, to do the service of the tabernacle. And they shall keep
all the instruments of the tabernacle of the congregation, and the charge
of the children of Israel, to do the service of the tabernacle. And thou
shalt give the Levites unto Aaron and to his sons: they are wholly given
unto him out of the children of Israel.’” (Chap. iii. 5-9.)
The Levites represented the whole congregation of Israel, and acted on
their behalf. This appears from the fact that the children of Israel
laid their hands on the heads of the Levites, just as the Levites laid
their hands on the heads of the sacrifices. (See chap. viii. 10.) The act
of imposition expressed identification, so that, according to this, the
Levites furnish a distinct view of the people of God in the wilderness.
They present them to us as a company of earnest workers, and that, too,
be it noted, not as mere desultory laborers, running to and fro, and
doing each one what seemed right in his own eyes. Nothing of the sort. If
the men of war had their pedigree to show, and their standard to adhere
to, so had the Levites their centre to gather around and their work to
do. All was as clear, distinct, and defined as God could make it; and
moreover, all was under the immediate authority and direction of the
high-priest.
It is most needful for all who would be true Levites, proper workmen,
intelligent servants, to weigh, with all seriousness, this point. Levite
service was to be regulated by the appointment of the priest. There was
no more room for the exercise of self-will in the service of the Levites
than there was in the position of the men of war. All was divinely
settled; and this was a signal mercy to all whose hearts were in a right
condition. To one whose will was unbroken, it might seem a hardship and
a most irksome task to be obliged to occupy the same position, or to be
engaged in precisely the same line of work. Such an one might sigh for
something fresh—some variety in his work; but, on the contrary, where the
will was subdued, and the heart adjusted, each one would say, My path is
perfectly plain; I have only to obey. This is ever the business of the
true servant. It was pre-eminently so with Him who was the only perfect
servant that ever trod the earth. He could say, “I came down from heaven,
not to do Mine own will, but the will of Him that sent Me.” And again,
“My meat is to do the will of Him that sent Me, and to finish His work.”
But there is another fact which claims our attention, in reference to
the Levites, and that is, their service had exclusively to do with the
tabernacle and its belongings. They had nothing else to do. For a Levite
to think of putting his hand to aught beside would have been to deny his
calling, to abandon his divinely appointed work, and to fly in the face
of God’s commandments.
Just so is it with Christians now. Their exclusive business—their one
grand work—their absorbing service, is Christ and His belongings. They
have nothing else to do. For a Christian to think of putting his hand to
aught beside is to deny his calling, to abandon his divinely appointed
work, and to fly in the face of the divine commandments. A true Levite of
old could say, To me to live is the tabernacle; and a true Christian now
can say, “To me to live is Christ.” The grand question, in every matter
which may present itself before the Christian, is this, Can I connect
Christ with it? If not, I have nothing whatever to do with it.
This is the true way to look at things. It is not a question as to the
right or wrong of this or that. No; it is simply a question as to how
far it concerns the name and glory of Christ. This simplifies every
thing amazingly. It answers a thousand questions, solves a thousand
difficulties, and makes the path of the true and earnest Christian as
clear as a sunbeam. A Levite had no difficulty as to his work. It was
all settled for him with divine precision. The burden that each had to
carry, and the work that each had to do, was laid down with a clearness
which left no room for the questionings of the heart. Each man could
know his work and do it; and, let us add, the work was done by each one
discharging his own specific functions. It was not by running hither and
thither, and doing this or that, but by each man sedulously adhering to
his own particular calling, that the service of the tabernacle was duly
discharged.
It is well to bear this in mind. We, as Christians, are very apt to
jostle one another; indeed, we are sure to do so if we do not each one
pursue his own divinely appointed line of work. We say “_divinely_
appointed,” and would press the word; we have no right to choose our own
work. If the Lord has made one man an evangelist, another a teacher,
another a pastor, and another an exhorter, how is the work to go on?
Surely, it is not by the evangelist trying to teach, and the teacher to
exhort, or one who is not fitted for either trying to do both. No; it
is by each one exercising his own divinely imparted gift. No doubt, it
may please the Lord to endow one individual with a variety of gifts;
but this does not, in the smallest degree, touch the principle on which
we are dwelling, which is simply this, every one of us is responsible
to know his own special line and pursue it. If this be lost sight of,
we shall get into hopeless confusion. God has His quarry-men, His
stone-squarers, and His masons. The work progresses by each man attending
diligently to his own work. If all were quarry-men, where were the
stone-squarers? if all were stone-squarers, where were the masons? The
greatest possible damage is done to the cause of Christ, and to God’s
work in the world, by one man aiming at another’s line of things, or
seeking to imitate another’s gift. It is a grievous mistake, against
which we would solemnly warn the reader. Nothing can be more senseless.
God never repeats Himself. There are not two faces alike, not two leaves
in the forest alike, not two blades of grass alike. Why, then, should any
one aim at another’s line of work, or affect to possess another’s gift?
Let each one be satisfied to be just what his Master has made him. This
is the secret of real peace and progress.
All this finds a very vivid illustration in the inspired record
concerning the service of the three distinct classes of the Levites,
which we shall now proceed to quote at length for the reader. There is
nothing, after all, to be compared with the veritable language of holy
Scripture.
“And the Lord spake unto Moses in the wilderness of Sinai, saying,
‘Number the children of Levi after the house of their fathers, by their
families, every male from a month old and upward shalt thou number
them.’ And Moses numbered them _according to the word of the Lord, as
he was commanded_. And these were the sons of Levi by their names:
Gershon and Kohath and Merari. And these are the names of the sons of
Gershon by their families: Libni and Shimei. And the sons of Kohath by
their families: Amram and Izehar, Hebron and Uzziel. And the sons of
Merari by their families: Mahli and Mushi. These are the families of
the Levites according to the house of their fathers. Of Gershon was the
family of the Libnites, and the family of the Shimites: these are the
families of the Gershonites. Those that were numbered of them, according
to the number of all the males, from a month old and upward, even those
that were numbered of them were seven thousand and five hundred. The
families of the Gershonites shall pitch behind the tabernacle westward.
And the chief of the house of the father of the Gershonites shall be
Eliasaph the son of Lael. And the charge of the sons of Gershon in the
tabernacle of the congregation shall be the tabernacle, and the tent, the
covering thereof, and the hanging for the door of the tabernacle of the
congregation, and the hangings of the court, and the curtain for the door
of the court, which is by the tabernacle, and by the altar round about,
and the cords of it for all the service thereof.” (Chap. iii. 14-26.)
And again, we read, “And the Lord spake unto Moses, saying, ‘Take also
the sum of the sons of Gershon, throughout the houses of their fathers,
by their families; from thirty years old and upward until fifty years
old shalt thou number them; all that enter in to perform the service, to
do the work in the tabernacle of the congregation. This is the service
of the families of the Gershonites, to serve, and for burdens: and they
shall bear the curtains of the tabernacle, and the tabernacle of the
congregation, his covering, and the covering of the badgers’ skins that
is above upon it, and the hanging for the door of the tabernacle of the
congregation, and the hangings of the court, and the hanging for the door
of the gate of the court, which is by the tabernacle and by the altar
round about, and their cords, and all the instruments of their service,
and all that is made for them: so shall they serve. At the appointment
of Aaron and his sons shall be all the service of the sons of the
Gershonites, in all their burdens, and in all their service: and ye shall
appoint unto them in charge all their burdens. This is the service of the
families of the sons of Gershon in the tabernacle of the congregation:
and their charge shall be under the hand of Ithamar the son of Aaron the
priest.” (Chap. iv. 21-28.)
Thus much as to Gershon and his work. He, with his brother Merari,
had to carry “the tabernacle;” whereas Kohath was called to bear “the
sanctuary,” as we read in chapter x. “And the tabernacle was taken down;
and the sons of Gershon, and the sons of Merari set forward, bearing _the
tabernacle_.... And the Kohathites set forward, bearing _the sanctuary_;
and the other [_i. e._ the Gershonites and the Merarites] did set up the
tabernacle against they came.” (Ver. 17, 21.) There was a strong moral
link connecting Gershon and Merari in their service, although their work
was perfectly distinct, as we shall see from the following passage:—
“As for the sons of Merari, thou shalt number them after their families,
by the house of their fathers; from thirty years old and upward, even
unto fifty years old, shalt thou number them, every one that entereth
into the service, to do the work of the tabernacle of the congregation.
And this is the charge of their burden, according to all their service
in the tabernacle of the congregation: the boards of the tabernacle, and
the bars thereof, and the pillars thereof, and sockets thereof, and the
pillars of the court round about, and their sockets, and their pins, and
their cords, with all their instruments, and with all their service: and
by name ye shall reckon the instruments of the charge of their burden.
This is the service of the families of the sons of Merari, according to
all their service in the tabernacle of the congregation, under the hand
of Ithamar, the son of Aaron the priest.” (Chap. iv. 29-33.)
All this was clear and distinct. Gershon had nothing to do with the
boards and pins, and Merari had nothing to do with the curtains or the
coverings. And yet they were very intimately connected, as they were
mutually dependent. “The boards and sockets” would not do without “the
curtains,” and the curtains would not do without the boards and sockets.
And as to “the _pins_,” though apparently so insignificant, who could
estimate their importance in keeping things together, and maintaining
the visible unity of the whole? Thus all worked together to one common
end, and that end was gained by each attending to his own special line.
If a Gershonite had taken it into his head to abandon “the curtains” and
address himself to “the pins,” he would have left his own work undone and
interfered with the work of the Merarite. This would never do. It would
have thrown every thing into hopeless confusion; whereas by adhering to
the divine rule, all was maintained in the most exquisite order.
It must have been perfectly beautiful to mark God’s workers in the
wilderness. Each one was at his post, and each moved in his divinely
appointed sphere. Hence, the moment the cloud was lifted up and the order
issued to strike, every man knew what he had to do, and he addressed
himself to that and to nothing else. No man had any right to think for
himself: Jehovah thought for all. The Levites had declared themselves
“on the Lord’s side;” they had yielded themselves to His authority;
and this fact lay at the very base of all their wilderness work and
service. Looked at in this light, it would be deemed a matter of total
indifference whether a man had to carry a pin, a curtain, or a golden
candlestick. The grand question for each and for all was simply, Is this
my work? is this what the Lord has given me to do?
This settled every thing. Had it been left to human thinking or human
choosing, one man might like this, another might like that, and a third
might like something else. How then could the tabernacle ever be borne
along through the wilderness, or set up in its place? Impossible! There
could be but one supreme authority, namely, Jehovah Himself. He arranged
for all, and all had to submit to Him. There was no room at all for the
exercise of the human will. This was a signal mercy; it prevented a world
of strife and confusion. There must be subjection—there must be a broken
will—there must be a cordial yielding to divine authority, otherwise it
will turn out to be like the book of Judges—“every man doing that which
is right in his own eyes.” A Merarite might say—or think, if he did
not say it,—“What! am I to spend the very best portion of my life upon
earth—the days of my prime and vigor—in looking after a few pins? Was
this the end for which I was born? Am I to have nothing higher before me
as an object in life? Is this to be my occupation from the age of thirty
to fifty?”
To such questions there was a twofold reply. In the first place, it
was enough for the Merarite to know that Jehovah had assigned him his
work. This was sufficient to impart dignity to what nature might esteem
the smallest and meanest matter. It does not matter what we are doing,
provided always we are doing our divinely appointed work. A man may
pursue what his fellows would deem a most brilliant career; he may spend
his energies, his time, his talents, his fortune, in pursuits which the
men of this world esteem grand and glorious, and, all the while, his
life may prove to be but a splendid bubble. But on the other hand, the
man that simply does the will of God, whatever that may be—the man who
executes his Lord’s commands, whatever such commands may enjoin—that is
the man whose path is illuminated by the beams of divine approbation,
and whose work shall be remembered when the most splendid schemes of the
children of this world have sunk in eternal oblivion.
But, besides the moral worth attaching always to the act of doing what
we are told to do, there was also a special dignity belonging to the
work of a Merarite, even though that work was merely attending to a few
“pins” or “sockets.” Every thing connected with the tabernacle was of
the very deepest interest and highest value. There was not, in the whole
world, any thing to be compared with that boarded tent with all its
mystic belongings. It was a holy dignity and privilege to be allowed to
touch the smallest pin that formed a part of that wonderful tabernacle in
the wilderness. It was more glorious, by far, to be a Merarite looking
after the pins of the tabernacle, than to wield the sceptre of Egypt or
Assyria. True, that Merarite, according to the import of his name, might
seem a poor “sorrowful” laboring man; but oh! his labor stood connected
with the dwelling-place of the Most High God, the possessor of heaven and
earth. His hands handled the things which were the patterns of things in
the heavens. Every pin, every socket, every curtain, and every covering
was a shadow of good things to come—a foreshadowing of Christ.
We do not mean to assert that the poor laboring Merarite or Gershonite
understood these things. This is not, by any means, the point. _We_
can understand them. It is our privilege to bring all these things—the
tabernacle and its mystic furniture—under the brilliant light of the New
Testament, and there read Christ in all.
While, therefore, we predicate nothing as to the measure of intelligence
possessed by the Levites in their respective work, we, at the same time,
may say, with confidence, that it was a very precious privilege to be
allowed to touch and handle, and bear through the wilderness, the earthly
shadows of heavenly realities. Moreover, it was a special mercy to have
the authority of a “Thus saith the Lord” for every thing they put their
hand to. Who can estimate such a mercy—such a privilege? Each member of
that marvelous tribe of workers had his own particular line of things
marked out by God’s hand and superintended by God’s priest. It was not
each doing what he liked himself, nor one man running in the wake of
another, but all bowing to the authority of God, and doing precisely what
they were told to do. This was the secret of order throughout the eight
thousand five hundred and eighty workers (Chap. iv. 48.); and, we may
say, with all possible confidence, it is the only true secret of order
still. Why is it that we have so much confusion in the professing church?
why such conflicting thoughts, feelings, and opinions? why such clashing
one with another? why such crossing of each other’s path? Simply from the
lack of entire and absolute submission to the Word of God. Our _will_ is
at work. We choose our own ways, instead of allowing God to choose for
us. We want that attitude and temper of soul in the which _all_ human
thoughts (our own amongst them) shall be put down at what they are really
worth, and God’s thoughts shall rise into full unqualified dominion.
This, we feel persuaded, is the grand desideratum—the crying want of
the day in which our lot is cast. Man’s will is every where gaining
the ascendant. It is rising like a mighty tide, and bearing away those
ancient barriers which have, in some measure, kept it in check. Many an
old and time-honored institution is, at this moment, giving way before
the rushing torrent; many an edifice, whose foundations, as we supposed,
were laid deep down in the fond and reverent affections of the people, is
giving way beneath the battering-ram of popular feeling. “Let us break
their bands asunder, and cast away their cords from us.”
Such is, pre-eminently, the spirit of the age. What is the antidote?
_Subjection!_ Subjection to what? Is it to what is called the authority
of the church? Is it to the voice of tradition? Is it to the commandments
and doctrines of men? No, blessed be God; it is not to any of these
things, nor to all of them put together. To what, then? To the voice
of the living God—the voice of holy Scripture. This is the grand remedy
for self-will on the one hand, and submission to human authority on the
other. “We must _obey_,”—this is the answer to self-will: “We must obey
_God_,”—this is the answer to mere bowing down to human authority. We see
these two elements all around us. The former—self-will, resolves itself
into infidelity; the latter—subjection to man, resolves itself into
superstition. These two will bear sway over the whole civilized world.
They will carry away all, save those who are divinely taught to say and
feel and act upon that immortal sentence, “We must obey God rather than
man.”
It was this that enabled the Gershonite in the wilderness to look after
those rough, unattractive-looking “badger-skins,” and that enabled the
Merarite to look after these apparently insignificant “pins.” Yes, and
it is this which will enable the Christian now to address himself to
that special line of service to which his Lord may see fit to call him.
What though, to human eyes, it seems rough and unattractive, mean and
insignificant; it is enough for us that our Lord has assigned us our
post and given us our work, and that our work has direct reference to
the Person and glory of Him who is the chiefest among ten thousand and
altogether lovely. We, too, may have to confine ourselves to the antitype
of the rough, unsightly badger-skin, or the insignificant pin. But let us
remember that whatever has reference to Christ—His name, His Person, His
cause—in the world, is unspeakably precious to God. It may be very small
in man’s account, but what of that? We must look at things from God’s
point of view, we must measure them by His standard, and that is, Christ.
God measures every thing by Christ. Whatever has even the very smallest
reference to Christ is interesting and important in God’s account;
whereas the most splendid undertakings, the most gigantic schemes, the
most astonishing enterprises, of the men of this world, all pass away
like the morning cloud and the early dew. Man makes _self_ his centre,
his object, his standard. He values things according to the measure in
which they exalt himself and further his interests. Even religion itself,
so called, is taken up in the same way, and made a pedestal on which to
display himself. Every thing, in short, is worked up as capital for self,
and used as a reflector to throw light upon and call attention to that
one object. Thus there is a mighty gulf between God’s thoughts and man’s
thoughts, and the shores of that gulf are as far apart as _Christ_ and
_self_. All that belongs to Christ is of eternal interest and moment: all
that belongs to self shall pass away and be forgotten. Hence, therefore,
the most fatal mistake into which any man can fall is to make _self_
his object. It must issue in everlasting disappointment. But on the
other hand, the very wisest, safest, best thing that any man can do, is
to make Christ his one absorbing object. This must infallibly issue in
everlasting blessedness and glory.
Beloved reader, pause here a moment, and commune with thine own heart
and conscience. It seems to us, at this point, that we have a sacred
responsibility to discharge in reference to thy soul. We are penning
these lines in the solitude of our chamber at Bristol, and you may,
perchance, read them in the solitude of thy chamber in New Zealand,
Australia, or some other distant spot. We would therefore remember
that our object is not to write a book, nor yet merely to expound
Scripture. We desire to be used of God in the blessed work of dealing
with thy very inmost soul. Permit us, therefore, to put this solemn
and pointed question home to thee: _What is thy object?_ Is it Christ,
or self? Be honest with thyself before the almighty and all-seeing
Searcher of hearts. Sit in stern judgment upon thyself, as in the very
light of the divine presence. Be not deceived by any gilding or false
coloring. God sees below the surface of things, and He would have thee
to do so likewise. He presents Christ to thee, in contrast with all
beside. Hast thou accepted Him? Is He thy wisdom, thy righteousness, thy
sanctification, and thy redemption? Canst thou say, without hesitation,
“My Beloved is mine, and I am His”? Search and see. Is this a thoroughly
settled point, deep down in the very depths of thy soul? If so, art thou
making Christ thy exclusive object? art thou measuring every thing by Him?
Ah, dear friend, these are searching questions. Be assured we do not put
them to thee without feeling their edge and power for ourselves. As God
is our witness, we do feel, though in a very small degree, their weight
and seriousness. We are deeply and thoroughly convinced that nothing
will stand save that which is connected with Christ; and moreover, that
the very smallest matter which refers, however remotely, to Him is of
commanding interest in the judgment of heaven. If we may be permitted to
awaken a sense of this in any heart, or to deepen the sense where it has
been awakened, we shall feel we have not penned this volume in vain.
* * * * *
We must now, ere closing this lengthened section, glance for a few
moments at the Kohathites and their work.
“And the Lord spake unto Moses and unto Aaron, saying, ‘Take the sum of
the sons of Kohath from among the sons of Levi, after their families, by
the house of their fathers, from thirty years old and upward even until
fifty years old, all that enter into the host, to do the work in the
tabernacle of the congregation. This shall be the service of the sons
of Kohath in the tabernacle of the congregation, about the most holy
things: and when the camp setteth forward, Aaron shall come, and his
sons, and they shall take down the covering vail, and cover _the ark_ of
testimony with it: and shall put thereon the covering of badgers’ skins,
and shall spread over it a cloth wholly of blue, and shall put in the
staves thereof. And upon _the table_ of show-bread they shall spread a
cloth of blue, and put thereon the dishes, and the spoons, and the bowls,
and covers to cover withal: and the continual bread shall be thereon:
and they shall spread upon them a cloth of scarlet, and cover the same
with a covering of badgers’ skins, and shall put in the staves thereof.
And they shall take a cloth of blue, and cover the candlestick of the
light, and his lamps, and his tongs, and his snuff-dishes, and all the
oil vessels thereof, wherewith they minister unto it; and they shall put
it and all the vessels thereof within a covering of badgers’ skins, and
shall put it upon a bar. And upon _the golden altar_ they shall spread
a cloth of blue, and cover it with a covering of badgers’ skins, and
shall put to the staves thereof: and they shall take all the instruments
of ministry, wherewith they minister in the sanctuary, and put them in
a cloth of blue, and cover them with a covering of badgers’ skins, and
shall put them on a bar: and they shall take away the ashes from _the
altar_, and spread a purple cloth thereon: and they shall put upon it all
the vessels thereof, wherewith they minister about it, even the censers,
the flesh-hooks, and the shovels, and the basons, all the vessels of the
altar; and they shall spread upon it a covering of badgers’ skins, and
put to the staves of it. And when Aaron and his sons have made an end of
covering the sanctuary, and all the vessels of the sanctuary, as the camp
is to set forward; after that, the sons of Kohath shall come to bear it:
but they shall not touch any holy thing, lest they die. These things are
the burden of the sons of Kohath in the tabernacle of the congregation.’”
(Chap. iv. 1-15.)
Here we see what precious mysteries were committed to the charge of
the Kohathites. The ark, the golden table, the golden candlestick, the
golden altar, and the altar of burnt-offering—all these were shadows of
good things to come—the patterns of things in the heavens—the figures of
the true—the types of Christ, in His Person, His work, and His offices,
as we have sought to show in our “Notes on Exodus.” (Chap. xxiv.-xxx.)
They are here presented in the wilderness, and, if we may be allowed the
expression, in their traveling-dress. With the exception of the ark of
the covenant, all these things presented the one unvarying appearance to
the human eye, namely, the rough covering of the badgers’ skins. With the
ark there was this difference, that above the badgers’ skins there was “a
cloth wholly of blue,” setting forth, doubtless, the entirely heavenly
character of the Lord Jesus Christ in His own divine Person. That which
was essentially heavenly in Him lay upon the very surface of His blessed
life here below. He was the entirely heavenly Man—“the Lord from heaven.”
Underneath this covering of blue were the badgers’ skins, which may be
viewed as the expression of that which protects from evil. The ark was
the only thing that was covered in this peculiar manner.
With regard to “the table of show-bread,” which was a type of our Lord
Jesus Christ in His connection with the twelve tribes of Israel, there
was first “a cloth of _blue_,” and then “a cloth of _scarlet_;” and
over all, the badgers’ skins. In other words, there was that which is
essentially heavenly; then that which expresses human splendor; and
above all, that which protects from evil. It is the purpose of God that
Israel’s twelve tribes shall be pre-eminent in the earth—that in them
the very highest type of human splendor shall be exhibited. Hence the
appropriateness of the “scarlet” covering on the table of show-bread. The
twelve loaves evidently point to the twelve tribes; and as to the scarlet
color, the reader has only to look through Scripture in order to see that
it sets forth that which man considers splendid.
The coverings of the golden candlestick and of the golden altar were
identical, namely, first, the heavenly covering, and then the external
badgers’ skin. In the candlestick we see our Lord Christ in connection
with the work of the Holy Ghost in light and testimony. The golden altar
shows us Christ and the preciousness of His intercession—the fragrance
and value of what He is before God. Both these, when passing along the
sand of the desert, were wrapped up in that which was heavenly, and
protected above by the badgers’ skins.
Finally, in reference to the brazen altar, we observe a marked
distinction. It was covered with “purple” instead of “blue” or “scarlet.”
Why was this? Doubtless because the brazen altar prefigured Christ as
the One who “_suffered_ for sins,” and who shall therefore wield the
sceptre of royalty. “Purple” is the royal color. The One who suffered in
this world shall reign; the One who wore the crown of thorns shall wear
the crown of glory. Hence the moral fitness of the “purple” covering on
the brazen altar—for on that altar the victim was offered. We know there
is nothing in Scripture without its own divine meaning, and it is our
privilege as well as our duty to seek to know the meaning of all that
our God has graciously written for our learning. This, we believe, can
only be reached by humble, patient, prayerful waiting upon Him. The One
who has penned the book knows perfectly the scope and object of the book
as a whole, and of each division of the book in particular. This will
have the effect of checking the unhallowed flights of the imagination.
The Spirit of God alone can open Scripture to our souls. “God is His own
interpreter” in revelation as well as in providence, and the more we lean
on Him, in true self-emptiness, the deeper insight we shall have both
into His Word and ways.
We would therefore say to the Christian reader, Take the first fifteen
verses of Numbers iv. and read them in the presence of God. Ask Him to
explain to thee the meaning of each clause—the meaning of the ark, and
why it alone was covered with “a cloth wholly of blue.” And so of all
the rest. We have ventured, we trust in humility of mind, to suggest the
meaning; but we earnestly desire that thou shouldst get it directly from
God for thyself, and not accept it merely from man. We confess we are
terribly afraid of imagination; and we know not that we have ever sat
down to write on sacred Scripture with a deeper sense of this, that none
but the Holy Ghost can really explain it.
Thou wilt say, then, Why sit down to write at all? Well, it is with the
fond hope of being permitted, in some feeble manner, to help the earnest
student of Scripture to catch sight of the rare and exquisite gems that
lie scattered along the inspired page, so that he may pick them up for
himself. Thousands of readers might read, again and again, the fourth
of Numbers, and not even perceive the fact that the ark was the only
part of the mystic furniture of the tabernacle that did not exhibit the
badger-skin. And if the simple fact be not laid hold of, how can its
import be seen? So also as to the brazen altar, how many have failed to
notice that it alone put on the “purple”!
Now, we may rest assured that both these facts are full of spiritual
meaning. The ark was the very highest manifestation of God, and therefore
we may understand why it should exhibit, at first sight, that which was
purely heavenly. The brazen altar was the place where sin was judged—it
typified Christ in His work as a Sin-bearer—it set forth that most
distant place to which He traveled for us; and yet that brazen altar was
the only thing that was wrapped in _royal_ covering. Can aught be more
exquisite than the teaching here? What infinite wisdom in all these fine
distinctions! The ark conducts us to the very highest point in heaven;
the brazen altar conducts us to the lowest point on earth. They stood
at extreme points in the tabernacle. In the former, we see the One who
magnified the law; in the latter, we see the One who was made sin. In the
one, that which was heavenly was seen at the first sight; and it was only
when you looked deeper, you saw the badger-skin; and deeper still, that
mysterious vail, the type of Christ’s flesh: but in the other, the first
thing you saw was the badger-skin; and deeper down, the royal covering.
We see Christ in each, though in a different aspect. In the ark, we have
Christ maintaining the glory of God; in the brazen altar, we have Christ
meeting the sinner’s need. Blessed combination for us!
But further, has the reader noticed that in the entire of this marvelous
passage to which we have been calling his particular attention there is
no mention of a certain piece of furniture which we know, from Exodus
xxx. and other scriptures, occupied a very important place in the
tabernacle: We allude to the brazen laver. Why is this omitted in Numbers
iv? It is more than probable that some of our keen-eyed rationalists
would find here what they would pronounce an error—a defect—a
discrepancy. But is it so? No, thank God! The devout Christian student
knows full well that such things are wholly incompatible with the volume
of God. He knows and confesses this, even though he may not be able to
account for the absence of this or the presence of that particular thing
in any given passage. But just in so far as we are enabled, through the
mercy of God, to see the spiritual reason of things, do we always find
that where the rationalist sees or affects to see flaws, the pious
student sees brilliant gems.
Thus it is, we doubt not, in reference to the omission of the brazen
laver from the catalogue in Numbers iv. It is only one of the ten
thousand illustrations of the beauty and perfectness of the inspired
volume.
But, the reader may inquire, why is the laver omitted? The reason may be
found in the double fact of what that laver was made from, and what it
was made for. This double fact we have noticed in Exodus. The laver was
made of the looking-glasses of the women who assembled at the door of the
tabernacle of the congregation. (Ex. xxxviii. 8.) This was its material.
And as to its object, it was provided as a means of purification for man.
Now, in all those things which formed the special burden and charge of
the Kohathites, we see only the varied manifestations of God in Christ,
from the ark, in the holiest of all, to the brazen altar, in the court of
the tabernacle: and inasmuch as the laver was not a manifestation of God,
but a purification for man, it is therefore not found in the custody and
charge of the Kohathites.
But we must now leave the reader to meditate alone on this most profound
section of our book. (Chap. iii. and iv.) It is really inexhaustible. We
might go on expatiating upon it until we had filled volumes instead of
pages, and after all, we should feel as though we had barely penetrated
the surface of a mine whose depth never can be sounded—whose treasures
never can be exhausted. What human pen can bring out the marvelous
instruction contained in the inspired account of the tribe of Levi? Who
can attempt to unfold that sovereign grace which shines in the fact
that the self-willed Levi should be the very first to respond to that
soul-stirring call, “Who is on the Lord’s side?” Who can speak aright
of that rich, abounding, distinguishing mercy illustrated in the fact
that those whose hands had been imbued in blood should be permitted to
handle the vessels of the sanctuary; and that those into whose assembly
God’s Spirit could not enter should be brought into the very bosom of the
congregation of God, there to be occupied with that which was so precious
to Him?
And then those three divisions of workers—Merarites, Gershonites, and
Kohathites; what instruction is here! what a type of the various members
of the Church of God, in their various service! what depth of mysterious
wisdom in all this! Is it speaking too strongly—is it too much, to say
that nothing, at this moment, so deeply impresses us as the sense of the
utter feebleness and poverty of all that we have advanced on one of the
very richest sections of the inspired volume? Still we have conducted the
reader to a mine of infinite depth and richness, and we must leave him to
penetrate thereinto by the gracious aid of Him to whom the mine belongs,
and who alone is able to evolve its wealth. All that man can write or say
on any portion of God’s Word can, at best, be but suggestive: to speak of
it as exhaustive would be to cast a slight upon the sacred canon. May we
tread the holy place with unshod feet, and be as those who inquire in the
temple, and whose studies are perfumed by the spirit of worship.[5]
CHAPTER V.
“And the Lord spake unto Moses, saying, ‘Command the children of Israel
that they put out of the camp every leper, and every one that hath an
issue, and whosoever is defiled by the dead: both male and female shall
ye put out, without the camp shall ye put them; that they defile not
their camps, _in the midst whereof I dwell_.’ And the children of Israel
did so, and put them out without the camp: as the Lord spake unto Moses,
so did the children of Israel.” (Num. v. 1-4.)
Here we have unfolded to us, in few words, the great foundation-principle
on which the discipline of the assembly is founded—a principle, we may
say, of the very last importance, though, alas! so little understood or
attended to. It was the presence of God in the midst of His people Israel
that demanded holiness on their part. “That they defile not their camps,
in the midst of which I dwell.” The place where the Holy One dwells must
be holy. This is a plain and a necessary truth.
We have already remarked that _redemption_ was the _basis_ of God’s
dwelling in the midst of His people; but we must remember that
_discipline_ was essential to His continuance amongst them. He could not
dwell where evil was deliberately and avowedly sanctioned. Blessed be
His name, He can and does bear with weakness and ignorance; but He is of
purer eyes than to behold evil, and cannot look on iniquity. Evil cannot
dwell with Him, nor can He have fellowship with it. It would involve a
denial of His very nature; and He cannot deny Himself.
It may, however, be said, in reply, Does not God the Holy Ghost dwell
in the individual believer, and yet there is much evil in him? True,
the Holy Ghost dwells in the believer, on the ground of accomplished
redemption. He is there, not as the sanction of what is of nature, but
as the seal of what is of Christ; and His presence and fellowship are
enjoyed just in proportion as the evil in us is habitually judged. Will
any one assert that we can realize and delight in the Spirit’s indwelling
while allowing our indwelling pravity, and indulging the desires of the
flesh and of the mind? Far away be the impious thought! No; we must judge
ourselves, and put away every thing inconsistent with the holiness of
the One who dwells in us. Our “old man” is not recognized at all; it
has no existence before God; it has been condemned utterly in the cross
of Christ. We feel its workings, alas! and have to mourn over them, and
judge ourselves on account of them; but God sees us in Christ—in the
Spirit—in the new creation. And, moreover, the Holy Ghost dwells in the
body of the believer, on the ground of the blood of Christ; and this
indwelling demands the judgment of evil in every shape and form.
So, also, in reference to the assembly. No doubt there is evil there—evil
in each individual member, and therefore evil in the body corporate. But
it must be judged; and if judged, it is not allowed to act—it is rendered
null. But to say that an assembly is not to judge evil, is nothing more
or less than corporate antinomianism. What should we say to a professing
Christian who maintained that he was not solemnly responsible to judge
evil in himself and in his ways? We should, with great decision,
pronounce him an antinomian. And if it be wrong for a single individual
to take such ground, must it not be proportionably wrong for an assembly?
We cannot see how this can be called in question.
What would have been the result had Israel refused to obey the peremptory
“command” given at the opening chapter before us? Supposing they had
said, We are not responsible to judge evil; and we do not feel that
it becomes poor failing, erring mortals such as we to judge any body.
These people with the leprosy, and the issue, and so forth, are as much
Israelites as we are, and have as good a right to all the blessings and
privileges of the camp as we have; we do not therefore feel it would be
right for us to put them out.
Now, what, we ask, would have been God’s rejoinder to such a reply? If
the reader will just turn for an instant to Joshua vii, he will find as
solemn an answer as could well be given. Let him draw near and carefully
inspect that “great heap of stones” in the valley of Achor. Let him read
the inscription thereon. What is it? “God is greatly to be feared in the
assembly of His saints, and to be had in reverence of all them that are
round about Him.” “_Our_ God is a consuming fire.” What is the meaning of
all this? Let us hear it and consider it. Lust had conceived in the heart
of one member of the congregation, and brought forth sin. What then? Did
this involve the whole congregation? Yes, verily; this is the solemn
truth. “_Israel_ [not merely Achan,] hath sinned, and _they_ have also
transgressed My covenant which I commanded them: for _they_ have even
taken of the accursed thing, and have also stolen, and dissembled also,
and _they_ have put it even among their own stuff. Therefore the children
of Israel could not stand before their enemies, but turned their backs
before their enemies, because _they_ were accursed: _neither will I be
with you any more, except ye destroy the accursed thing from among you_.”
(Josh. vii. 11, 12.)
This is peculiarly solemn and searching. It most assuredly utters a
loud voice in our ears, and conveys a holy lesson to our hearts. There
were, so far as the narrative informs us, many hundreds of thousands,
throughout the camp of Israel, as ignorant as Joshua himself seems to
have been of the fact of Achan’s sin, and yet the word was, “_Israel_
hath sinned—transgressed—taken the accursed thing—stolen and dissembled.”
How was this? The assembly was one. God’s presence in the midst of the
congregation constituted it one—so one, that the sin of each was the sin
of all. “A little leaven leaveneth the whole lump.” Human reason may
demur to this, as it is sure to demur to every thing that lies beyond
its narrow range. But God says it, and this is enough for the believing
mind. It doth not become us to ask, Why? How? or Wherefore? The testimony
of God settles every thing, and we have only to believe and obey. It is
enough for us to know that the fact of God’s presence demands holiness,
purity, and the judgment of evil. Let us remember this. It is not upon
the principle so justly repudiated by every lowly mind, “Stand by
thyself; I am holier than thou.” No, no; it is entirely on the ground of
what God is.—“Be ye holy, for I am holy.” God could not give the sanction
of His holy presence to unjudged wickedness. What! give a victory at Ai
with an Achan in the camp? Impossible! A victory under such circumstances
would have been a dishonor to God, and the very worst thing that could
have happened to Israel. It could not be. Israel must be chastised; they
must be humbled and broken; they must be brought down to the valley of
Achor—the place of trouble, for there alone can “a door of hope” be
opened when evil has come in.
Let not the reader misunderstand this great practical principle. It has,
we fear, been greatly misunderstood by many of God’s people. Many there
are who seem to think that it can never be right for those who are saved
by grace, and who are themselves signal monuments of mercy, to exercise
discipline in any form, or on any ground whatsoever. To such persons,
Matthew vii. 1 seems to condemn utterly the thought of our undertaking
to judge. “Are we not,” say they, “expressly told by our Lord not to
judge? Are not these His own veritable words—‘Judge not, that ye be not
judged’?” No doubt; but what do these words mean? Do they mean that we
are not to judge the doctrine and manner of life of such as present
themselves for Christian fellowship? Do they lend any support to the idea
that no matter what a man holds, or what he teaches, or what he does, we
are to receive him all the same? Can this be the force and meaning of our
Lord’s words? Who could, for one moment, cede aught so monstrous as this?
Does not our Lord, in this very same chapter, tell us to “beware of false
prophets”? But how can we beware of any one if we are not to judge? If
judgment is not to be exercised in any case, why tell us to beware?
Christian reader, the truth is as simple as possible. God’s assembly is
responsible to judge the doctrine and morals of all who claim entrance
at the door. We are not to judge motives, but we are to judge ways. We
are directly taught, by the inspired apostle, in the fifth chapter of 1
Corinthians, that we are bound to judge all who take the ground of being
inside the assembly. “For what have I to do to judge them also that are
without? Do not ye judge them that are within? But them that are without
God judgeth. _Therefore_ put away from among yourselves that wicked
person.” (Ver. 12, 13.)
This is most distinct. We are not to judge those “without,” but we are
to judge those “within.” That is, those who take the ground of being
Christians—of being members of God’s assembly—all such come within the
range of judgment. The very moment a man enters the assembly, he takes
his place in that sphere where discipline is exercised upon every thing
contrary to the holiness of the One who dwells there.
And let not the reader suppose for a moment that the unity of the _body_
is touched when the discipline of the _house_ is maintained. This would
be a very serious mistake indeed; and yet, alas! it is a very common one.
We frequently hear it said of those who rightly seek to maintain the
discipline of the house of God, that they are rending the body of Christ.
There could hardly be a greater mistake. The fact is, the former is our
bounden duty; the latter, an utter impossibility. The discipline of God’s
house must be carried out; but the unity of Christ’s body can never be
dissolved.
Again, we sometimes hear people speak of cutting off the limbs of the
body of Christ. This also is a mistake. Not a single limb of the body of
Christ can ever be disturbed. Each member has been incorporated into its
place by the Holy Ghost, in pursuance of the eternal purpose of God,
and on the ground of the accomplished atonement of Christ; nor can any
power of men or devils ever sever a single limb from the body. All are
indissolubly joined together in a perfect unity, and maintained therein
by divine power. The unity of the Church of God may be compared to a
chain stretching across a river: you see it at either side, but it dips
in the middle; and if you were to judge by the sight of your eyes, you
might suppose that the chain had given way at the centre. So is it with
the Church of God: it was seen to be one at the beginning; it will be
seen to be one by and by; and it is, in God’s sight, one now, though the
unity be not visible to mortal eyes.
It is of the very last moment that the Christian reader should be
thoroughly clear on this great Church-question. The enemy has sought,
by every means in his power, to cast dust into the eyes of God’s dear
people, in order that they might not see the truth in this matter.
We have on the one side, the boasted unity of Roman Catholicism; and
on the other hand, the deplorable divisions of Protestantism. Rome
points, with an air of triumph, to the numerous sects of Protestants;
and Protestants likewise point to the numerous errors, corruptions, and
abuses of Romanism. Thus the earnest seeker after truth hardly knows
where to turn or what to think; while, on the other hand, the careless,
the indifferent, the self-indulgent, and the world-loving are only too
ready to draw a plea, from all that they see around them, for flinging
aside all serious thought and concern about divine things; and even if,
like Pilate, they sometimes flippantly ask the question, “What is truth?”
they, like him, turn on their heel without waiting for an answer.
Now, we are firmly persuaded that the true secret of the whole matter—the
grand solution of the difficulty—the real relief for the hearts of God’s
beloved saints, will be found in the truth of the indivisible unity of
the Church of God, the body of Christ, on the earth. This truth is not
merely to be held as a doctrine, but to be confessed, maintained, and
carried out, at all cost to ourselves. It is a great formative truth for
the soul, and contains in it the only answer to Rome’s boasted unity on
the one hand, and to Protestant divisions on the other. It will enable
us to testify to Protestantism that we have found unity, and to Roman
Catholicism that we have found the unity of the Spirit.
It may, however, be argued, in reply, that it is the veriest Utopianism
to seek to carry out such an idea in the present condition of things.
Every thing is in such ruin and confusion that we are just like a number
of children who have lost their way in a wood, and are trying to make the
best of their way home, some in large parties, some in groups of two or
three, and some all alone.
Now this may seem very plausible; and we do not doubt in the least but
that it would carry immense weight with a large number of the Lord’s
people at the present moment; but in the judgment of faith, such a mode
of putting the matter possesses no weight whatever. And for this simple
reason, that the one all-important question for faith is this, namely,
Is the unity of the Church a human theory or a divine reality? A divine
reality most surely, as it is written, “There is one body, and one
Spirit,” (Eph. iv. 4.) If we deny that there is “one body,” we may, with
equal force, deny that there is “one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one
God and Father of all,” inasmuch as all lie side by side on the page of
inspiration, and if we disturb one, we disturb all.
Nor are we confined to one solitary passage of Scripture on this subject;
though had we but one, it were amply sufficient. But we have more than
one. Hearken to the following: “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 communion of the body of Christ? For we being many are one bread,
and one body; for we are all partakers of that one bread.” (1 Cor. x.
16, 17.) Read also 1 Corinthians xii. 12-27, where this whole subject is
unfolded and applied.
In a word, then, the Word of God doth most clearly and fully establish
the truth of the indissoluble unity of the body Christ; and, moreover,
it establishes, as clearly and as fully, the truth of the discipline of
God’s house. But, be it observed, the proper carrying out of the latter
will never interfere with the former. The two things are perfectly
compatible. Are we to suppose that when the apostle commanded the church
of Corinth to put away from amongst them “that wicked person,” the unity
of the body was touched? Surely not. And yet was not that man a member
of the body of Christ? Truly so, for we find him restored in the second
epistle. The discipline of the house of God had done its work with a
member of the body of Christ, and the erring one was brought back. Such
was the object of the Church’s act.
All this may help to clear the mind of the reader as to the deeply
interesting subject of reception at the Lord’s table and exclusion from
it. There seems to be a considerable amount of confusion in the minds
of many Christians as to these things. Some there are who seem to think
that provided a person be a Christian, he should on no account be refused
a place at the Lord’s table. The case in 1 Corinthians v. is quite
sufficient to settle this question. Evidently that man was not put away
on the ground of his not being a Christian. He was, as we know, spite of
his failure and sin, a child of God; and yet was the assembly at Corinth
commanded to put him away; and had they not done so, they would have
brought down the judgment of God upon the whole assembly. God’s presence
is in the assembly, and therefore evil must be judged.
Thus, whether we look at the fifth chapter of Numbers or at the fifth
chapter of 1 Corinthians, we learn the same solemn truth, namely, that
“holiness becometh God’s house forever.” And further, we learn that it is
with God’s own people that discipline must be maintained, and not with
those outside. For what do we read in the opening lines of Numbers v?
Were the children of Israel commanded to put out of the camp every one
that was not an Israelite—every one that was not circumcised—every one
who could not trace his pedigree, in an unbroken line, up to Abraham?
were these the ground of exclusion from the camp? Not at all. Who, then,
were to be put out? “Every leper,” that is, every one in whom sin is
_allowed_ to work; “every one that hath an issue,” that is, every one
from whom a defiling influence is emanating; and “whosoever is defiled
by the dead.” These were the persons that were to be separated from the
camp in the wilderness, and their antitypes are to be separated from the
assembly now.
And why, we may ask, was this separation demanded? Was it to uphold the
reputation or respectability of the people? Nothing of the sort. What
then? “That they defile not their camps in the midst whereof _I dwell_.”
And so is it now. We do not judge and put away bad doctrine in order to
maintain _our_ orthodoxy; neither do we judge and put away moral evil in
order to maintain _our_ reputation and respectability. The only ground
of judgment and putting away is this: “Holiness becometh Thine house,
O Lord, forever.” God dwells in the midst of His people. “Where two or
three are gathered together in My name, there am I.” “Know ye not that ye
are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you?” (1
Cor. iii. 16.) And again, “Now therefore ye are no more strangers and
foreigners, but fellow-citizens with the saints, and of the household of
God; and _are_ built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets,
Jesus Christ Himself being the chief corner stone; in whom all the
building fitly framed together, groweth unto _a holy temple_ in the Lord:
in whom ye also _are_ builded together for a habitation of God through
the Spirit.” (Eph. ii. 19-22.)
But it may be that the reader feels disposed to put some such questions
as the following: How is it possible to find a pure, a perfect church?
Is there not—will there not—must there not be some evil in every
assembly, in spite of the most intense pastoral vigilance and corporate
faithfulness? How, then, can this high standard of purity be maintained?
No doubt, there is evil in the assembly, inasmuch as there is indwelling
sin in each member of the assembly. But it must not be allowed; it must
not be sanctioned; it must be judged and kept under. It is not the
presence of judged evil that defiles, but the allowance and sanction of
evil. It is with the Church, in its corporate character, as with the
members in their individual character.—“If we would judge ourselves, we
should not be judged.” (1 Cor. xi. 31.) Hence, therefore, no amount of
evil should lead a man to separate from the Church of God; but if an
assembly denies its solemn responsibility to judge evil, both in doctrine
and morals, it is no longer on the ground of the Church of God at all,
and it becomes your bounden duty to separate from it. So long as an
assembly is on the ground of the Church of God, however feeble it be,
and few in number, to separate from it is schism. But if an assembly be
not on God’s ground (and most certainly it is not if it denies its duty
to judge evil), then it is schism to continue in association with it.
But will not this tend to multiply and perpetuate divisions? Most
assuredly not. It may tend to break up mere human associations; but this
is not schism, but the very reverse, inasmuch as all such associations,
however large, powerful, and apparently useful, are positively
antagonistic to the unity of the body of Christ—the Church of God.
It cannot fail to strike the thoughtful reader that the Spirit of God
is awakening attention, on all hands, to the great question of the
Church. Men are beginning to see that there is very much more in this
subject than the mere notion of an individual mind, or the dogma of
a party. The question, “What is the Church?” is forcing itself upon
many hearts, and demanding an answer. And what a mercy to have an
answer to give! an answer as clear, as distinct, and as authoritative
as the voice of God—the voice of holy Scripture—can give. Is it not
an unspeakable privilege, when assailed on all sides by the claims of
churches—“High-Church,” “Low-Church,” “Broad-Church,” “State-Church,”
“Free-Church,”—to be able to fall back upon the one true Church of the
living God—the body of Christ? We most assuredly esteem it as such; and
we are firmly persuaded that here alone is the divine solution of the
difficulties of thousands of the people of God.
But where is this Church to be found? Is it not a hopeless undertaking
to set out to look for it amid the ruin and confusion which surrounds
us? No, blessed be God; for albeit we may not _see_ all the members of
the Church gathered together, yet it is our privilege and holy duty to
know and occupy _the ground_ of the Church of God, and no other. And how
is this ground to be discerned? We believe that the first step towards
discerning the true ground of the Church of God is, to stand apart from
every thing that is contrary thereto. We need not expect to discover what
is true while our minds are beclouded by what is false. The divine order
is, “Cease to do evil: learn to do well.” God does not give us light for
two steps at a time. Hence, the moment we discover that we are on wrong
ground, it is our duty to abandon it, and wait on God for further light,
which He will most surely give.
* * * * *
But we must proceed with our chapter.
“The Lord spake unto Moses, saying, ‘Speak unto the children of Israel:
When a man or woman shall commit any sin that men commit, to do a
trespass against the Lord, and that person be guilty; then they shall
confess their sin which they have done; and he shall recompense his
trespass with the principal thereof, and add unto it the fifth part
thereof, and give it unto him against whom he hath trespassed. But if
the man have no kinsman to recompense the trespass unto, let the trespass
be recompensed unto the Lord, even to the priest; beside the ram of the
atonement, whereby an atonement shall be made for him.’”
The doctrine of the trespass-offering has been considered in our “Notes
on Leviticus,” chapter v; and to that we must refer our reader, as we
do not mean to occupy his time or our own in going into any points
which have been already considered. We shall merely notice here the
very important questions of confession and restitution. Not only is it
true that both God and man are gainers by the Great Trespass-Offering
presented on the cross at Calvary, but we also learn, from the
foregoing quotation, that God looked for confession and restitution,
when any trespass had been committed. The sincerity of the former
would be evidenced by the latter. It was not sufficient for a Jew
who had trespassed against his brother to go and say, I am sorry. He
had to restore the thing wherein he had trespassed, and add a fifth
thereto. Now, although we are not under the law, yet may we gather
much instruction from its institutions; although we are not under the
schoolmaster, we may learn some good lessons from him. If, then, we have
trespassed against any one, it is not enough that we confess our sin to
God and to our brother, we must make restitution; we are called upon to
give practical proof of the fact that we have judged ourselves on account
of that thing in which we have trespassed.
We question if this is felt as it ought to be. We fear there is a light,
flippant, easy-going style in reference to sin and failure, which must
be very grievous indeed to the Spirit of God. We rest content with the
mere lip-confession, without the deep, heartfelt sense of the evil of
sin in God’s sight. The thing itself is not judged in its moral roots,
and, as a consequence of this trifling with sin, the heart becomes hard,
and the conscience loses its tenderness. _This is very serious._ We know
of few things more precious than a tender conscience. We do not mean a
_scrupulous_ conscience, which is governed by its own crotchets; or a
_morbid_ conscience, which is governed by its own fears. Both these are
most troublesome guests for any one to entertain. But we mean a _tender_
conscience, which is governed, in all things, by the Word of God, and
which refers, at all times, to His authority. This sound description
of conscience we consider an inestimable treasure. It regulates every
thing, takes cognizance of the very smallest matter connected with our
daily walk and habits—our mode of dress, our houses, our furniture, our
table, our entire deportment, spirit, and style, our mode of conducting
our business, or if it be our lot to serve others, the mode in which we
discharge the service, whatever it be. In short, every thing falls under
the healthful moral influence of a tender conscience. “Herein,” says the
blessed apostle, “do I exercise myself, to have _always_ a conscience
void of offense toward God and men.” (Acts xxiv. 16.)
This is what we may well covet. There is something morally beautiful and
attractive in this exercise of the greatest and most gifted servant of
Christ. He, with all his splendid gifts, with all his marvelous powers,
with all his profound insight into the ways and counsels of God, with all
he had to speak of and glory in, with all the wonderful revelations made
to him in the third heavens; in a word, he, the most honored of apostles
and privileged of saints, gave holy diligence to keep always a conscience
void of offense both toward God and man; and if, in an unguarded moment,
he uttered a hasty word, as he did to Ananias the high-priest, he was
ready, the very next moment, to confess and make restitution, so that the
hasty utterance, “God shall smite thee, thou whited wall,” was withdrawn,
and God’s Word given instead—“Thou shalt not speak evil of the ruler of
thy people.”
Now, we do not believe that Paul could have retired to rest that night
with a conscience void of offense if he had not withdrawn his words.
There must be confession when we do or say what is wrong; and if there
be not the confession, our communion will assuredly be interrupted.
Communion, with unconfessed sin upon the conscience, is a moral
impossibility. We may talk of it, but it is all the merest delusion. We
must keep a clean conscience if we would walk with God. There is nothing
more to be dreaded than moral insensibility, a slovenly conscience,
an obtuse moral sense that can allow all sorts of things to pass
unjudged—that can commit sin, pass on, and coolly say, “What evil have I
done?”
Reader, let us, with holy vigilance, watch against all this; let us
seek to cultivate a tender conscience. It will demand from us what it
demanded from Paul, namely, “exercise.” But it is blessed exercise, and
it will yield most precious fruits. Do not suppose that there is aught
that savors of the legal in this exercise; nay, it is most thoroughly
Christian; indeed we look upon those noble words of Paul as the very
embodiment, in a condensed form, of the whole of a Christian’s practice.
“To have _always_ a conscience void of offense toward God and men”
comprehends every thing.
But, alas! how little do we habitually ponder the claims of God, or
the claims of our fellow-man! How little is our conscience up to the
mark! Claims of all sorts are neglected, yet we feel it not. There is
no brokenness and contrition before the Lord. We commit trespass in a
thousand things, yet there is no confession or restitution. Things are
allowed to pass that ought to be judged, confessed, and put away. There
is sin in our holy things; there is lightness and indifference of spirit
in the assembly and at the Lord’s table; we rob God, in various ways; we
think our own thoughts, speak our own words, do our own pleasure; and
what is all this but robbing God, seeing that we are not our own, but
bought with a price?
Now, we cannot but think that all this must sadly hinder our spiritual
growth. It grieves the Spirit of God, and hinders His gracious ministry
of Christ to our souls whereby alone we grow up into Him. We know,
from various parts of God’s Word, how much He prizes a tender spirit,
a contrite heart.—“To this man will I look, even to him that is of a
contrite spirit and trembles at My word.” With such an one God can dwell;
but with hardness and insensibility, coldness and indifference, He can
have no fellowship. Oh, then, let us exercise ourselves to have always a
pure and uncondemning conscience, both as to God and as to our fellow-man.
The third and last section of our chapter, which we need not quote at
length, teaches us a deeply solemn lesson, whether we view it from a
dispensational or a moral point of view. It contains the record of the
great ordinance designed for the trial of jealousy. Its place here is
remarkable. In the first section, we have the corporate judgment of
evil; in the second, we have individual self-judgment, confession, and
restitution; and in the third, we learn that God cannot endure even the
mere suspicion of evil.
Now, we fully believe that this very impressive ordinance has a
dispensational bearing upon the relationship between Jehovah and
Israel. The prophets dwell largely upon Israel’s conduct as a wife, and
upon Jehovah’s jealousy on that score. We do not attempt to quote the
passages, but the reader will find them throughout the pages of Jeremiah
and Ezekiel. Israel could not abide the searching trial of the bitter
water. Her unfaithfulness has been made manifest; she has broken her
vows; she has gone aside from her Husband, the Holy One of Israel, whose
burning jealousy has been poured forth upon the faithless nation. He is a
jealous God, and cannot bear the thought that the heart that He claims as
His own should be given to another.
Thus we see that this ordinance for the trial of jealousy bears very
distinctly upon it the impress of the divine character. In it He most
fully enters into the thoughts and feelings of an injured husband, or
of one who even suspected an injury. The bare suspicion is perfectly
intolerable, and where it takes possession of the heart, the matter must
be sifted to the very bottom. The suspected one must undergo a process of
such a searching nature that only the faithful one can endure. If there
was a trace of guilt, the bitter water would search down into the very
depths of the soul and bring it all out. There was no escape for the
guilty one; and we may say that the very fact of there being no possible
escape for the guilty, only made the vindication of the innocent more
triumphant. The self-same process that declared the guilt of the guilty,
made manifest the innocence of the faithful. To one who is thoroughly
conscious of integrity, the more searching the investigation the more
welcome it is. If there were a possibility of a guilty one escaping,
through any defect in the mode of trial, it would only make against the
innocent. But the process was divine, and therefore perfect; and hence,
when the suspected wife had gone through it in safety, her fidelity was
perfectly manifested, and full confidence restored.
What a mercy, then, to have had such a perfect mode of settling all
suspected cases! Suspicion is the death-blow to all loving intimacy,
and God would not have it in the midst of His congregation. He would
not only have His people collectively to judge evil, and individually
to judge themselves; but where there was even the suspicion of evil,
and no evidence forthcoming, He Himself devised a method of trial which
perfectly brought the truth to light. The guilty one had to drink death,
and found it to be judgment:[6] the faithful one drank death, and found
it victory.