“And the Lord spake unto Moses, saying, ‘Speak unto the children of
Israel, and say unto them, When either man or woman shall separate
themselves to vow a vow of a Nazarite, to separate themselves unto the
Lord; he shall separate himself from wine and strong drink, and shall
drink no vinegar of wine, or vinegar of strong drink, neither shall he
drink any liquor of grapes, nor eat moist grapes, or dried. All the days
of his separation shall he eat nothing that is made of the vine-tree,
from the kernels even to the husk. All the days of the vow of his
separation there shall no razor come upon his head: until the days be
fulfilled, in the which he separateth himself unto the Lord, he shall be
holy, and shall let the locks of the hair of his head grow. All the days
that he separateth himself unto the Lord he shall come at no dead body.
He shall not make himself unclean for his father, or for his mother, for
his brother, or for his sister, when they die; because the consecration
of his God is upon his head. All the days of his separation he is holy
unto the Lord.’” (Ver. 1-8.)
The ordinance of Nazariteship is full of interest and practical
instruction. In it we see the case of one setting himself apart, in a
very special manner, from things which, though not absolutely sinful in
themselves, were nevertheless calculated to interfere with that intense
consecration of heart which is set forth in true Nazariteship.
In the first place, the Nazarite was not to drink wine. The fruit of the
vine, in every shape and form, was to him a forbidden thing. Now, wine,
as we know, is the apt symbol of earthly joy—the expression of that
social enjoyment which the human heart is so fully capable of entering
into. From this the Nazarite in the wilderness was sedulously to keep
himself. With him it was a literal thing. He was not to excite nature by
the use of strong drink. All the days of his separation he was called to
exercise the strictest abstinence from wine.
Such was the type, and it is written for our learning—written, too, in
this marvelous book of Numbers, so rich in its wilderness lessons. This
is only what we might expect. The impressive institution of the Nazarite
finds its appropriate place in the book of Numbers. It is in perfect
keeping with the character of the book, which, as has been already
remarked, contains all that specially belongs to life in the wilderness.
Let us then inquire into the nature of the lesson taught us in the
Nazarite’s abstinence from every thing pertaining to the vine, from the
kernel even to the husk.
There has been but one true and perfect Nazarite in this world—but one
who maintained, from first to last, the most complete separation from
all mere earthly joy. From the moment He entered upon His public work,
He kept Himself apart from all that was of this world. His heart was
fixed upon God and His work, with a devotion that nothing could shake.
No claims of earth or nature were ever allowed, for a single moment, to
come in between His heart and that work which He came to do. “Wist ye not
that I must be about My Father’s business?” And again, “Woman, what have
I to do with thee?” With such words did the true Nazarite seek to adjust
the claims of nature. He had one thing to do, and to that He separated
Himself perfectly. His eye was single and His heart undivided. This is
apparent from first to last. He could say to His disciples, “I have
meat to eat that ye know not of;” and when they, not knowing the deep
significance of His words, said, “Hath any man brought Him aught to eat?”
He replied, “My meat is to do the will of Him that sent Me, and to finish
His work.” (John iv.) So also at the close of His course here below, we
hear Him giving utterance to such words as these, as He took into His
hand the paschal cup: “Take this, and divide it among yourselves; for I
say unto you, I will not drink of the fruit of the vine until the kingdom
of God shall come.” (Luke xxii. 17, 18.)
Thus we see how the perfect Nazarite carried Himself throughout. He could
have no joy in the earth, no joy in the nation of Israel. The time had
not come for that, and therefore He detached Himself from all that which
mere human affection might find in association with His own, in order to
devote Himself to the one grand object which was ever before His mind.
The time will come when He, as the Messiah, will rejoice in His people
and in the earth; but until that blissful moment arrives, He is apart
as the true Nazarite, and His people are linked with Him. “They are not
of the world, even as I am not of the world. Sanctify them through Thy
truth: Thy Word is truth. As Thou hast sent Me into the world, even so
have I also sent them into the world. And for their sakes I sanctify
Myself, that they also might be sanctified through the truth.” (John
xvii. 16-19.)
Christian reader, let us deeply ponder this first grand feature of
the Nazarite character. It is important we should faithfully examine
ourselves in the light of it. It is a very grave question indeed how far
we, as Christians, are really entering into the meaning and power of
this intense separation from all the excitement of nature, and from all
merely earthly joy. It may perhaps be said, What harm is there in having
a little amusement or recreation? Surely, we are not called to be monks.
Has not God given us richly all things to enjoy? And while we are in the
world, is it not right we should enjoy it?
To all this we reply, It is not a question of the harm of this, that,
or the other. There was no harm, as a general rule, in wine; nothing
abstractedly wrong in the vine-tree: but the point is this, if any one
aimed at being a Nazarite, if he aspired to this holy separation unto the
Lord, then was he to abstain _wholly_ from the use of wine and strong
drink. Others might drink wine; but the Nazarite was not to touch it.
Now, the question for us is this: Do we aim at being Nazarites? do we
sigh after thorough separation and devotement of ourselves, in body,
soul, and spirit, unto God? If so, we must be apart from all these things
in which mere nature finds its enjoyment. It is upon this one hinge
that the whole question turns. The question most assuredly is not “Are
we to be monks?” but, Do we want to be Nazarites? Is it our heart’s
desire to be apart, with our Lord Christ, from all mere earthly joy—to be
separated unto God from those things which, though not absolutely sinful
in themselves, do nevertheless tend to hinder that entire consecration
of heart which is the true secret of all spiritual Nazariteship? Is
not the Christian reader aware that there are, in very deed, many such
things? Is he not conscious that there are numberless things which exert
a distracting and weakening influence upon his spirit, and yet were they
to be tried by the standard of ordinary morality, they might be allowed
to pass as harmless?
But we must remember that God’s Nazarites do not measure things by any
such standard. Theirs is not an ordinary morality at all. They look at
things from a divine and heavenly stand-point, and hence they cannot
suffer aught to pass as harmless which tends in any wise to interfere
with that high tone of consecration to God after which their souls are
fervently breathing.
May we have grace to weigh these things, and to watch against every
defiling influence. Each one must be aware of what it is which, in his
case, would prove to be wine and strong drink. It may seem to be a
trifle; but we may rest assured that nothing is a trifle which breaks
the current of our soul’s communion with God, and robs us of that holy
intimacy which it is our privilege ever to enjoy.
But there was another thing which marked the Nazarite. He was not to
shave his head.—“All the days of the vow of his separation there shall
no razor come upon his head: until the days be fulfilled in the which he
separateth himself unto the Lord, he shall be holy, and shall let the
locks of the hair of his head grow.”
In 1 Corinthians xi. 14, we learn that it argues a lack of dignity for a
man to have long hair. “Doth not even nature itself teach you, that if a
man have long hair, it is a shame unto him?” From this we learn that if
we really desire to live a life of separation to God, we must be prepared
to surrender our dignity in nature. This our Lord Jesus Christ did
perfectly. He made Himself of no reputation; He surrendered His rights in
every thing; He could say, “I am a worm and no man;” He emptied Himself
thoroughly, and took the very lowest place; He neglected Himself, while
He cared for others. In a word, His Nazariteship was perfect in this as
in all beside.
Now, here is just the very thing which we so little like to do. We
naturally stand up for our dignity and seek to maintain our rights. It
is deemed manly so to do. But the perfect Man never did so; and if we
aim at being Nazarites, we shall not do so either. We must surrender the
dignities of nature, and forego the joys of earth, if we would tread a
path of thorough separation to God in this world. By and by both will be
in place, but not now.
Here again, be it remarked, the question is not as to the right and
wrong of the case. As a general rule, it was right for a man to shave
his locks; but it was not right, nay, it was altogether wrong, for a
Nazarite to do so. This made all the difference. It was quite right for
an ordinary man to shave and drink wine; but the Nazarite was not an
ordinary man; he was one set apart from all that was ordinary, to tread a
path peculiar to himself; and to use a razor or taste wine would involve
the entire surrender of that peculiar path. Hence, if any inquire, Is it
not right to enjoy the pleasures of earth, and maintain the dignities
of nature? We reply, Quite right, if we are to walk as men; but wholly
wrong, yea, absolutely fatal, if we want to walk as Nazarites.
This simplifies the matter amazingly. It answers a thousand questions
and solves a thousand difficulties. It is of little use to split hairs
about the harm of this or that particular thing. The question is, What
is our real purpose and object? do we merely want to get on as men, or
do we long to live as true Nazarites? According to the language of 1
Corinthians iii. 3, to “walk as men” and to be “carnal” are synonymous.
Does such language really govern us? do we drink into the spirit and
breathe the atmosphere of such a scripture? or are we ruled by the spirit
and principles of a godless, Christless world? It is useless to spend
our time arguing points which would never be raised at all if our souls
were in the right temper and attitude. No doubt, it is perfectly right,
perfectly natural, perfectly consistent, for the men of this world to
enjoy all that it has to offer them, and to maintain their rights and
their dignities to the very utmost of their power. It were childish
to question this. But on the other hand, what is right and natural
and consistent for the men of this world, is wrong, unnatural, and
inconsistent for God’s Nazarites. Thus the matter stands, if we are to
be governed by the simple truth of God. We learn from the sixth chapter
of Numbers that if a Nazarite drank wine or shaved his locks, he defiled
the head of his consecration. Has this no voice, no lesson for us?
Assuredly it has. It teaches us that if our souls desire to pursue a path
of whole-hearted consecration to God, we must abstain from the joys of
earth, and surrender the dignities and the rights of nature. It must be
thus, seeing that God and the world, flesh and spirit, do not and cannot
coalesce. The time will come when it will be otherwise; but just now, all
who _will_ live to God, and walk in the Spirit, must live apart from the
world and mortify the flesh. May God, of His great mercy, enable us so to
do.
One other feature of the Nazarite remains to be noticed. He was not to
touch a dead body.—“All the days that he separateth himself unto the
Lord, he shall come at no dead body. He shall not make himself unclean
for his father, or for his mother, for his brother, or for his sister,
when they die; because the consecration of his God is upon his head.”
Thus we see that whether it was drinking wine, shaving his locks, or
touching a dead body, the effect was the same; any one of the three
involved the defilement of the head of the Nazarite’s consecration.
Wherefore it is plain that it was as defiling to the Nazarite to drink
wine or to shave his head, as it was to touch a dead body. It is well to
see this. We are prone to make distinctions which will not stand for a
moment in the light of the divine presence. When once the consecration of
God rested upon the head of any one, that great and important fact became
the standard and touchstone of all morality. It placed the individual
on entirely new and peculiar ground, and rendered it imperative upon
him to look at every thing from a new and peculiar point of view. He
was no longer to ask what became him as a man, but what became him as
a Nazarite. Hence, if his dearest friend lay dead by his side, he was
not to touch him. He was called to keep himself apart from the defiling
influence of death, and all because “the consecration of God was upon his
head.”
Now, in this entire subject of Nazariteship, it is needful for the reader
to understand very distinctly that it is not by any means a question
of the soul’s salvation, of eternal life, or of the believer’s perfect
security in Christ. If this be not clearly seen, it may lead the mind
into perplexity and darkness. There are two grand links in Christianity
which, though very intimately connected, are perfectly distinct, namely,
the link of eternal life, and the link of personal communion. The former
can never be snapped by any thing; the latter can be snapped in a
moment, by the weight of a feather. It is to the second of these that the
doctrine of Nazariteship pertains.
We behold in the person of the Nazarite a type of one who sets out in
some special path of devotedness or consecration to Christ. The power
of continuance in this path consists in secret communion with God; so
that if the communion be interrupted, the power is gone. This renders
the subject peculiarly solemn. There is the greatest possible danger of
attempting to pursue the path in the absence of that which constitutes
the source of its power. This is most disastrous, and demands the utmost
vigilance. We have briefly glanced at the various things which tend to
interrupt the Nazarite’s communion; but it would be wholly impossible, by
any words of ours, to set forth the moral effect of any attempt to keep
up the appearance of Nazariteship when the inward reality is gone. It is
dangerous in the extreme. It is infinitely better to confess our failure,
and take our true place, than to keep up a false appearance. God will
have reality; and we may rest assured that, sooner or later, our weakness
and folly will be made manifest to all. It is very deplorable and very
humbling when “the Nazarites, that were purer than snow,” become “blacker
than a coal;” but it is far worse when those who have become thus black,
keep up the pretense of being white.
Let us look at the solemn case of Samson, as set before us in the
sixteenth chapter of Judges. He, in an evil hour, betrayed his secret
and lost his power—lost it though he knew it not. But the enemy soon
knew it. It was soon made manifest to all that the Nazarite had defiled
the head of his consecration. “And it came to pass, when Delilah pressed
him daily with her words, and urged him, so that his soul was vexed unto
death, that he told her all his heart, and said unto her, ‘There hath not
come a razor upon mine head; for I have been a Nazarite unto God from my
mother’s womb: if I be shaven, then my strength will go from me, and I
shall become weak, and be like any other man.’” (Ver. 16, 17.)
Here, alas! was the betrayal of the deep and holy secret of all his
power. Up to this, his path had been one of strength and victory, simply
because it had been one of holy Nazariteship. But the lap of Delilah
proved too much for the heart of Samson, and what a thousand Philistines
could not do was done by the insnaring influence of a single woman.
Samson fell from the lofty elevation of the Nazarite down to the level of
an ordinary man.
“And when Delilah saw that he had told her all his heart, she sent and
called for the lords of the Philistines, saying, ‘Come up this once, for
he hath showed me all his heart.’ Then the lords of the Philistines came
up unto her, and brought money in their hand. And she made him sleep
upon her knees; [alas! alas! a fatal sleep to God’s Nazarite!] and she
called for a man, and she caused him to shave off the seven locks of
his head; and she began to afflict him, and his strength went from him.
And she said, ‘The Philistines be upon thee, Samson.’ And he awoke out
of his sleep, and said, ‘I will go out as at other times before, and
shake myself.’ And he wist not that the Lord was departed from him. But
the Philistines took him, and put out his eyes, and brought him down
to Gaza, and bound him with fetters of brass; and he did grind in the
prison-house.” (Judges xvi. 18-21.)
Oh, reader, what a picture! How solemn! how admonitory! What a melancholy
spectacle was Samson—going out to shake himself, “as at other times”!
Alas! the “_as_” was out of place. He might shake himself, but it was no
longer “as at other times,” for the power was gone; the Lord was departed
from him, and the once-powerful Nazarite became a blind prisoner; and
instead of triumphing over the Philistines, he had to grind in their
prison-house. So much for yielding to mere nature. Samson never regained
his liberty. He was permitted, through the mercy of God, to gain one
more victory over the uncircumcised; but that victory cost him his life.
God’s Nazarites must keep themselves pure or lose their power. In their
case, power and purity are inseparable. They cannot get on without inward
holiness; and hence the urgent need of being ever on the watch against
the various things which tend to draw away the heart, distract the mind,
and lower the tone of spirituality. Let us ever keep before our souls
those words of our chapter, “All the days of his separation he is holy
unto the Lord.” Holiness is the grand and indispensable characteristic
of all the days of Nazariteship; so that when once holiness is forfeited,
Nazariteship is at an end.
What, then, it may be asked, is to be done? The scripture before us
supplies the answer.—“And if any man die very suddenly by him, and he
hath defiled the head of his consecration, then he shall shave his head
in the day of his cleansing; on the seventh day shall he shave it. And
on the eighth day he shall bring two turtles, or two young pigeons,
to the priest, to the door of the tabernacle of the congregation; and
the priest shall offer the one for a sin-offering, and the other for a
burnt-offering, and make an atonement for him, for that he sinned by the
dead, and shall hallow his head that same day. And he shall consecrate
unto the Lord the days of his separation, and shall bring a lamb of the
first year for a trespass-offering; but the days that were before shall
be lost, because his separation was defiled.” (Num. vi. 9-12.)
Here we find atonement, in its two grand aspects, as the only ground on
which the Nazarite could be restored to communion. He had contracted
defilement, and that defilement could only be removed by the blood of
the sacrifice. We might deem it a very trifling matter to touch a dead
body, and particularly under such circumstances. It might be said, How
could he help touching it, when the man had suddenly dropped dead by his
side? To all this the reply is at once simple and solemn. God’s Nazarites
must maintain personal purity; and, moreover, the standard by which
their purity is to be regulated is not human, but divine. The mere touch
of death was sufficient to break the link of communion; and had the
Nazarite presumed to go on as though nothing had happened, he would have
been flying in the face of God’s commandments, and bringing down heavy
judgment upon himself.
But, blessed be God, grace had made provision. There was the
burnt-offering—the type of the death of Christ to Godward; there was
the sin-offering—the type of that same death to usward; and there was
the trespass-offering—the type of the death of Christ, not only in its
application to the root or principle of sin in the nature, but also to
the actual sin committed. In a word, it needed the full virtue of the
death of Christ to remove the defilement caused by the simple touch of
a dead body. This is peculiarly solemnizing. Sin is a dreadful thing in
God’s sight—most dreadful. A single sinful thought, a sinful look, a
sinful word, is enough to bring a dark, heavy cloud over the soul, which
will hide from our view the light of God’s countenance, and plunge us
into deep distress and misery.
Let us, then, beware how we trifle with sin. Let us remember that ere one
stain of the guilt of sin—even the very smallest—could be removed, the
blessed Lord Jesus Christ had to pass through all the unutterable horrors
of Calvary. That intensely bitter cry, “My God, My God, why hast Thou
forsaken Me?” is the only thing that can give us any proper idea of what
sin is; and into the profound depths of that cry no mortal or angel can
ever enter. But though we can never fathom the mysterious depths of the
sufferings of Christ, we should at least seek to meditate more habitually
upon His cross and passion, and, in this way, reach a much deeper view
of the awfulness of sin in the sight of God. If, indeed, sin was so
dreadful, so abhorrent to a holy God, that He was constrained to turn
away the light of His countenance from that blessed One who had dwelt
in His bosom from all eternity; if He had to forsake Him because He was
bearing sin in His own body on the tree, then what must sin be?
Oh, reader, let us seriously consider these things. May they ever have
a place deep down in these hearts of ours, that are so easily betrayed
into sin. How lightly, at times, do we think of that which cost the Lord
Jesus every thing—not only life, but that which is better and dearer
than life, even the light of God’s countenance! May we have a far deeper
sense of the hatefulness of sin. May we most sedulously watch against the
bare movement of the eye in a wrong direction; for we may rest assured
that the heart will follow the eye, and the feet will follow the heart,
and thus we get away from the Lord, lose the sense of His presence and
His love, and become miserable, or, if not miserable, what is far worse,
dead, cold, and callous—“hardened through the deceitfulness of sin.”
May God, in His infinite mercy, keep us from falling. May we have grace
to watch more jealously against every thing, no matter what, that might
defile the head of our consecration. It is a serious thing to get out of
communion, and a most perilous thing to attempt to go on in the Lord’s
service with a defiled conscience. True it is that grace pardons and
restores, but we never regain what we have lost. This latter is set forth
with solemn emphasis in the passage of Scripture before us,—“He shall
consecrate unto the Lord the days of his separation, and shall bring a
lamb of the first year for a trespass-offering; _but the days that were
before shall be lost_ [or, shall fall, as the margin reads it], because
his separation was defiled.”
This is a point, in our subject, full of instruction and admonition for
our souls. When the Nazarite became defiled by any means, even by the
touch of a dead body, he had to begin over again. It was not merely the
days of his defilement that were lost, or let fall, but actually all the
days of his previous Nazariteship. All went for nothing, and this simply
by reason of touching a dead body.
What does this teach us? It teaches this, at least, that when we diverge,
the breadth of a hair, from the narrow path of communion, and get away
from the Lord, we must return to the very point from which we set out,
and begin _de novo_. We have many examples of this in Scripture, and
it would be our wisdom to consider them, and also to weigh the great
practical truth which they illustrate.
Take the case of Abraham, in his descent into Egypt, as recorded in
Genesis xii. This was very evidently a divergence from his proper path.
And what was the consequence? The days were lost, or let fall, and he
had to get back to the point whence he had swerved, and begin over again.
Thus, in Genesis xii. 8, we read, “And he removed from thence unto a
mountain on the east of Bethel, and pitched his tent, having Bethel on
the west, and Hai on the east; and there he builded an altar unto the
Lord, and called on the name of the Lord.” Then, after his return out of
the land of Egypt, we read, “He went on his journeys from the south even
to Bethel, unto the place where his tent had been _at the beginning_,
between Bethel and Hai, unto the place of the altar which he had made
there _at the first_; and there Abram called on the name of the Lord.”
(Gen. xiii. 3, 4.) All the time spent in Egypt went for nothing. There
was no altar there, no worship, no communion; and Abraham had to get back
to the self-same point from which he had diverged, and begin on the new.
Thus it is in every case; and this will account for the miserably slow
progress which some of us make in our practical career. We fail, turn
aside, get away from the Lord, are plunged in spiritual darkness; and
then His voice of love reaches us, in restoring power, and brings us
back to the point from which we had wandered; our souls are restored,
but we have lost time and suffered incalculably. This is most serious,
and it should lead us to walk with holy vigilance and circumspection,
so that we may not have to double back upon our path, and lose what can
never be regained. True it is that our wanderings and our stumblings
and our failings give us an insight into our own hearts, teach us to
distrust ourselves, and illustrate the boundless and unchangeable
grace of our God. All this is quite true; but still there is a very
much higher way of learning both ourselves and God, than by wandering,
stumbling, or failing. _Self_, in all the terrible depths of that word,
should be judged in the light of the divine presence; and there, too,
our souls should grow in the knowledge of God as He unfolds Himself, by
the Holy Ghost, in the face of Jesus Christ, and in the precious pages
of holy Scripture. This surely is the more excellent way of learning
both ourselves and God; and this, too, is the power of all true Nazarite
separation. The soul that habitually lives in the sanctuary of God, or,
in other words, that walks in unbroken communion with God, is the one
who will have a just sense of what nature is, in all its phases, though
it be not learnt by sad experience. And not only so, but he will have
a deeper and juster sense of what God is in Himself and to all who put
their trust in Him. It is poor work to be learning self by experience. We
may depend upon it, the true way to learn it is in communion; and when we
learn it thus, we shall not be characterized by perpetually dwelling upon
our personal vileness, but rather we shall be occupied with that which is
outside and above self altogether, even the excellency of the knowledge
of Christ Jesus our Lord.
We shall, in closing this section, quote, at length, for the reader, the
statements of “the law of the Nazarite, when the days of his separation
are fulfilled: he shall be brought unto the door of the tabernacle of
the congregation; and he shall offer his offering unto the Lord, one he
lamb of the first year without blemish for a burnt-offering, and one ewe
lamb of the first year without blemish, for a sin-offering, and one ram
without blemish for peace-offerings; and a basket of unleavened bread,
cakes of fine flour mingled with oil, and wafers of unleavened bread
anointed with oil, and their meat-offering, and their drink-offering.
And the priest shall bring them before the Lord, and shall offer his
sin-offering and his burnt-offering. And he shall offer the ram for
a sacrifice of peace-offerings unto the Lord, with the basket of
unleavened bread: the priest shall offer also his meat-offering and his
drink-offering. And the Nazarite shall shave the head of his separation
at the door of the tabernacle of the congregation, and shall take the
hair of the head of his separation, and put it in the fire which is
under the sacrifice of the peace-offerings. And the priest shall take
the sodden shoulder of the ram, and one unleavened cake out of the
basket, and one unleavened wafer, and shall put them upon the hands of
the Nazarite, after the hair of his separation is shaven; and the priest
shall wave them for a wave-offering before the Lord: this is holy for the
priest, with the wave breast and the heave shoulder: _and after that the
Nazarite may drink wine_. This is the law of the Nazarite who hath vowed,
and of his offering unto the Lord for his separation, beside that that
his hand shall get: according to the vow which he vowed, so he must do
after the law of his separation.” (Num. vi. 13-21.)
This marvelous “law” leads us onward to something future, when the full
result of Christ’s perfect work shall appear, and when He, as the Messiah
of Israel, shall, at the close of His Nazarite separation, taste true joy
in His beloved people, and in this earth. The time will then have come
for the Nazarite to drink wine. From all this He set Himself apart, for
the accomplishment of that great work, so fully set forth, in all its
aspects and in all its bearings, in the foregoing “law.” He is apart from
the nation, and apart from this world, in the power of true Nazariteship,
as He said to His disciples on that memorable night, “I will not drink
henceforth [απ’ αρτι] of this fruit of the vine until _that day_ when I
drink it new with you in My Father’s kingdom.” (Matt. xxvi. 29.)
But there is a bright day coming, when Jehovah-Messiah shall rejoice in
Jerusalem and joy in His people. The prophets, from Isaiah to Malachi,
are full of the most glowing and soul-stirring allusions to that bright
and blissful day. To quote the passages would literally fill a volume.
But if the reader will turn to the closing section of Isaiah’s prophecy,
he will find a sample of that to which we refer, and he will find many
similar passages throughout the various books of the prophets.
We must not attempt to quote, but we would warn the reader against the
danger of being led astray by the uninspired headings attached to those
magnificent passages which refer to Israel’s future, such, for example,
as “The blessings of the gospel”—“The enlargement of the Church.” These
expressions are calculated to mislead many pious readers, who are apt
to take for granted that the headings are as much inspired as the text;
or, if not inspired, that they at least contain a correct statement of
what the text sets forth. The fact is, there is not a syllable about the
Church from beginning to end of the prophets. That the Church can find
most precious instruction, light, comfort, and edification from this
grand division of the inspired volume is blessedly true; but she will do
this just in proportion as she is enabled, by the Spirit’s teaching, to
discern the real scope and object of this portion of the book of God. To
suppose for a moment that we can only derive comfort and profit from that
which exclusively or primarily refers to ourselves, would be to take a
very narrow, if not an egotistical, view of things. Can we not learn from
the book of Leviticus? and yet who would assert that that section refers
to the Church?
No, reader; you may rest assured that a calm, unprejudiced, prayerful
study of “the law and the prophets” will convince you that the great
theme of both the one and the other is, God’s government of the world in
immediate connection with Israel. True it is that throughout “Moses and
all the prophets” there are things concerning (the Lord) Himself. This
is plain, from Luke xxiv. 27; but it is “Himself” in His government of
this world and of Israel in particular. If this fact be not distinctly
seized, we shall study the Old Testament with little intelligence or
profit.
It may seem, to some of our readers, a strong statement to assert that
there is nothing about the Church, properly so called, throughout the
prophets, or indeed in the Old Testament; but a statement or two from
the inspired pen of St. Paul will settle the whole question for any one
who is really willing to submit to the authority of holy Scripture. Thus
in Romans xvi. we read, “Now to Him that is of power to stablish you
according to my gospel, and the preaching of Jesus Christ, according to
the revelation of the mystery, _which was kept secret since the world
began_, but _now is made manifest_, and by the scriptures of the prophets
[evidently of the New Testament], according to the commandment of the
everlasting God, made known to all nations for the obedience of faith.”
(Ver. 25, 26.)
So also in Ephesians iii. we read, “For this cause I Paul, the prisoner
of Jesus Christ for you Gentiles, if ye have heard of the dispensation of
the grace of God, which is given me to you-ward; how that by revelation
He made known unto me the mystery; (as I wrote afore in few words,
whereby, when ye read, ye may understand my knowledge in the mystery
of Christ;) _which in other ages was not made known unto the sons of
men, as it is now revealed unto His holy apostles and prophets by the
Spirit_;[7] that the Gentiles should be fellow-heirs, and of the same
body, and partakers of His promise in Christ by the gospel.... And to
make all men see what is the fellowship of the mystery, which _from the
beginning of the world hath been HID IN GOD_, who created all things by
Jesus Christ: to the intent that now unto the principalities and powers
in heavenly places might be known by the Church the manifold wisdom of
God.” (Ver. 1-10.)
But we must not pursue this deeply interesting subject of the Church;
we have merely referred to the foregoing plain passages of Scripture,
in order to settle the reader’s mind as to the fact that the doctrine
of the Church, as taught by Paul, finds no place in the pages of the
Old Testament; and therefore, when he reads the prophets and meets the
words “Israel,” “Jerusalem,” “Zion,” he is not to apply such terms to the
Church of God, inasmuch as they belong to the literal people of Israel,
the seed of Abraham, the land of Canaan, and the city of Jerusalem.[8]
God means what He says, and therefore we must not countenance aught that
borders upon or looks like a loose and irreverent mode of handling the
Word of God. When the Spirit speaks of Jerusalem, He means Jerusalem; if
He meant the Church, He would say so. We should not attempt to treat a
respectable human document as we treat the inspired volume. We take it
for granted that a man not only knows what he means to say, but says what
he means; and if this be so in regard to a poor fallible mortal, how much
more so in regard to the only wise and living God, who cannot lie?
But we must draw this section to a close, and leave the reader to
meditate alone upon the ordinance of the Nazarite, so pregnant with
sacred teaching for the heart. We wish him to ponder, in a special way,
the fact that the Holy Ghost has given us the full statement of the law
of Nazariteship in the book of Numbers—the wilderness book. And not
only so, but let him carefully consider the institution itself. Let him
see that he understands why the Nazarite was not to drink wine, why he
was not to shave his locks, and why he was not to touch a dead body.
Let him meditate upon these three things, and seek to gather up the
instruction contained therein. Let him ask himself, Do I really long to
be a Nazarite—to walk along the narrow path of separation unto God? and
if so, am I prepared to surrender all those things which tend to defile,
to distract, and to hinder God’s Nazarites? And finally, let him remember
that there is a time coming when “the Nazarite may drink wine;” or, in
other words, when there will be no need to watch against the varied forms
of evil within or around; all will be pure; the affections may flow out
without check; the garments may flow around us without a girdle; there
will be no evil to lie separated from, and therefore there will be no
need of separation. In a word, there will be “a new heavens and a new
earth wherein _dwelleth_ righteousness.” May God, in His infinite mercy,
keep us until that blessed time, in true consecration of heart unto
Himself.
* * * * *
The reader will observe that we here reach the close of a very distinct
section of our book. The camp is duly arranged; every warrior is set in
his proper place (chap. i, ii.); every workman is set to his proper work
(chap. iii, iv.); the congregation is purified from defilement (chap.
v.); provision is made for the highest character of separation to God
(chap. vi.). All this is very marked. The order is strikingly beautiful.
We have before us not only a cleansed and well-ordered camp, but also a
character of consecration to God beyond which it is impossible to go,
inasmuch as it is that which is only seen in its integrity in the life
of our blessed Lord Jesus Christ Himself. Having then reached this lofty
point, nothing remains but for Jehovah to pronounce His blessing upon the
whole congregation, and accordingly we get that blessing at the close of
chapter vi; and surely we may say, a right royal blessing it is. Let us
read and consider.
“And the Lord spake unto Moses, saying, ‘Speak unto Aaron and unto
his sons, saying, On this wise ye shall bless the children of Israel,
saying unto them, The Lord bless thee and keep thee; the Lord make His
face shine upon thee, and be gracious unto thee. The Lord lift up His
countenance upon thee, and give thee peace. And they shall put My name
upon the children of Israel; and I will bless them.’”
This copious blessing flows through the channel of priesthood. Aaron and
his sons are commissioned to pronounce this wonderful benediction. God’s
assembly is to be blessed and kept of Him continually; it is ever to bask
in the sunlight of His gracious countenance; its peace is to flow as a
river; Jehovah’s name is to be called upon it; He is ever there to bless.
What a provision! Oh that Israel had entered into it, and lived in the
power of it! But they did not. They quickly turned aside, as we shall
see. They exchanged the light of God’s countenance for the darkness of
Mount Sinai; they abandoned the ground of grace and placed themselves
under law. In place of being satisfied with their portion in the God of
their fathers, they lusted after other things. (Compare Psalm cv. and
cvi.) In place of the order, the purity, and the separation to God with
which our book opens, we have disorder, defilement, and giving themselves
to idolatry.
But, blessed be God, there is a moment approaching in the which the
magnificent benediction of Numbers vi. shall have its full application;
when Israel’s twelve tribes shall be ranged around that imperishable
standard, “Jehovah-shammah” (Ezek. xlviii. 35.); when they shall be
purified from all their defilements, and consecrated unto God in the
power of true Nazariteship. These things are set forth in the fullest and
clearest manner throughout the pages of the prophets. All these inspired
witnesses, without so much as one dissentient voice, bear testimony to
the glorious future in store for the literal Israel. They all point
forward to that time when the heavy clouds which have gathered and still
hang upon the nation’s horizon shall be chased away before the bright
beams of “the Sun of Righteousness;” when Israel shall enjoy a cloudless
day of bliss and glory, beneath the vines and fig-trees of that very land
which God gave as an everlasting possession unto Abraham, Isaac, and
Jacob.
If we deny the foregoing, we may as well cut out a large portion of the
Old Testament, and not a small part of the New, for in both the one
and the other the Holy Ghost doth most clearly and unequivocally bear
testimony to this precious fact, namely, mercy, salvation, and blessing
to the seed of Jacob. We hesitate not to declare our conviction that no
one can possibly understand the prophets who does not see this. There is
a bright future in store for God’s beloved, though now rejected people.
Let us beware how we deal with this fact. It is a very grave matter to
attempt to interfere, in any wise, with the true and proper application
of the Word of God. If He has pledged Himself to bless the nation of
Israel, let us have a care how we seek to force the stream of blessing
to flow in a different channel. It is a serious thing to tamper with the
declared purpose of God. He has declared it to be His purpose to give
the land of Canaan an everlasting possession to the seed of Jacob; and
if this be called in question, we do not see how we can hold fast the
integrity of any one portion of the Word of God. If we allow ourselves to
trifle with a large division of the inspired canon—and most assuredly it
is trifling with it when we seek to divert it from its true object—then
what security have we in reference to the application of Scripture at
all? If God does not mean what He says when He speaks of Israel and the
land of Canaan, how do we know that He means what He says when He speaks
of the Church and her heavenly portion in Christ? If the Jew be robbed of
his glorious future, what security has the Christian as to his?
Reader, let us remember that “_all_ [not merely some of] the promises
of God are yea and Amen in Christ Jesus;” and while we rejoice in the
application of this precious statement to ourselves, let us not seek to
deny its application to others. We most fully believe that the children
of Israel shall yet enjoy the full tide of blessing presented in the
closing paragraph of Numbers vi; and until then, the Church of God is
called to partake of blessings peculiar to herself. She is privileged to
know the presence of God with her and in her midst continually—to dwell
in the light of His countenance—to drink of the river of peace—to be
blessed and kept, from day to day, by Him who never slumbers nor sleeps.
But let us never forget—yea, let us deeply and constantly remember—that
the practical sense and experimental enjoyment of these immense blessings
and privileges will be in exact proportion to the measure in which
the Church seeks to maintain the order, the purity, and the Nazarite
separation to which she is called as the dwelling-place of God—the body
of Christ—the habitation of the Holy Ghost.
May these things sink down into our hearts, and exert their sanctifying
influence upon our whole life and character.