day upon earth. He seems to have spent it in retirement with His
disciples, probably among the groves of that Mount which He loved so
well; not yet invaded by the foot of treachery and violence, but lying
sweet and calm and beautiful with the tender tints of spring. Here He
told His friends of the terrible fate which was even then threatening
that temple, to whose beauty and strength they had so lately directed
His attention, and of that still more awful event, also inevitable, but
the date whereof was still hidden in the councils of God. At this time,
too, He spoke the parables of the wise and foolish virgins, and of the
talents, and gave the description of the last Judgment contained in the
same chapter.
It is on one feature of the narration in this chapter that I would
dwell for a few minutes. The most startling and significant thing about
them all has always seemed to me this: that in every case the persons
condemned were so condemned not for what they did, but for what they
did not do. The foolish virgins made no bad use of their lamps. They
did not willfully waste their oil for their own pleasure. They simply
neglected to provide it when they might have done so. When the time
came that the lamps were needed they hastened to supply the deficiency,
but it was then too late. They that were ready had gone in to the
marriage, and the door was shut.
So it was with the slothful servant with his one talent. He made
no ill use of it. We do not hear that he drank or gambled. He was
slothful—perhaps cowardly as well. So he hid his Lord's money, and
was judged accordingly. The man with one talent is perhaps specially
exposed to this temptation. He can do but little in comparison to
others, and so he will do nothing. But if his sentence was so severe,
what shall be that of him who, having ten talents given him to serve
his master withal, lets them lie unimproved, or uses them for his own
and others' destruction.
Again, in the story of judgment, with which the chapter concludes,
those who were sent away to the place prepared, not for them, but
for the devil and his angels, were condemned, not because they had
ill-treated or robbed any one, but because having the opportunity to
succor the Lord in the persons of His poor, they had not done so.
Do not these stories contain an awful warning? How many say, if not
openly, yet to themselves, "At least, if I do no good, I do no great
harm." But, let us not be deceived. The not doing good is of itself a
sin, and as a sin it will surely be visited.
_THURSDAY BEFORE EASTER._
_THE TRAITOR._
"WHEN evening was come, He sat down with the twelve" to the meal
already prepared by the two disciples whom He had sent in the morning
for that purpose. We cannot tell what were the thoughts that then
occupied His mind, any further than the Holy Spirit had revealed them
to us, but, so far, we without presumption humbly try to enter into
them. He knew, though His disciples did not, that his enemies were
awake, and already planning His destruction, and that one of His chosen
companions, who was breaking bread with Him, would betray Him into
their hands. He saw all the weakness and folly of those companions,
even then disputing who should be greatest; He foresaw their cowardly
desertion and flight. His soul was sorrowful, even unto death; yet we
hear no words of impatience; only solemn warnings and tender counsels.
There was one of the number to whom every look should have been a
reproach, every word a sting. He had sold his Lord already, and was
only biding his time to consummate the bargain; yet he could sit there
at the board, could take the bread from that Master's own hand, could
even ask with the others, "Is it I?"
Did his conscience even then torment him? Probably not. He had hardened
it too long. Says a well-known writer: "Remorse may disturb the slumber
of a man who is dabbling with his first experiences of wrong; and when
the pleasure has been tasted and is gone, and nothing is left of the
crime but the ruin it has wrought, then, too, the furies take their
seats upon the midnight pillow. But the meridian of evil is for the
most part left unvexed, and when a man has chosen his road he is left
alone to follow it to the end." Judas had chosen his road. He had sold
his Master for a paltry sum of money, and probably pleased himself with
the thoughts of farther advantages which would be certain to follow
such a service to the rulers. The world had hidden all else from his
eyes, and if he now and then had a misgiving, he doubtless stifled it
with the thought that the Master who had so often escaped the hands of
his enemies would easily do so again. He would have the money and the
credit, and there would be no great harm done after all.
Is there any danger now, that Judas may be found at the Lord's table?
Is there any danger that we may betray our Master for gold, for
fashion, or for worldly advantage? Do we ever, for the sake of being
thought liberal or intellectual, side with His open or covert enemies?
Let us beware! It was an awful distinction which our merciful and
compassionate Lord gave to Judas. There was pardon for those who
forsook Him for fear, for Peter who denied, for Paul who persecuted. It
was only Judas who sold Him, of whom it was said, "It were better for
that man that he had never been born!"
_GOOD FRIDAY._
_THE CROSS._
THERE seems to be no room on this day for human words. What we have to
do is to follow our suffering Lord step by step through the events of
the day; to see Him led from the high priest to Pilate, from Pilate to
Herod, and back to Pilate again; to see the cowardly Roman governor,
acting against his own sense of law and justice for fear of the mob,
seeking to save the innocent by a compromise, which failed, as such
compromises always do, and at last giving way and delivering the victim
into the hands of his enemies, to find, after all, that he had gained
nothing but infamy by the surrender of honor and conscience. Let us,
with the daughters of Jerusalem, follow the sad procession to Calvary.
Let us see the Saviour of the world fainting under His burden, yet
forgetting His own pain to address to the wailing women a word of
recognition and warning. Let us see Him refusing the narcotic provided
by merciful hands to deaden the agonies of the sufferers.
Let us, with His mother and the other faithful women, watch by His
cross to the end. Surely we can do this for Him who has done so much
for us.
And as we keep our sorrowful yet joyful watch, let us always remember
that we have our part in that awful sacrifice; that "our" sins made a
part of that crushing burden; that our sins sharpened the nails and
embittered the cup. Let us say again and again, as we watch the shadow
darkening on the Saviour's brow, that shadow which never anywhere falls
but once, "He died for me!"
He died for you, oh timid, doubting, desponding soul. How, then, can
you distrust your Father's love, who suffered His well-beloved Son
to bear all this for your sake? He died for you, oh weak and weary
sufferer, and He who so bore His own cross will help you to bear yours.
Oh, thoughtless or careless sinner, or hardened man of the world; oh,
blasphemer or denier! He died for you that you might live for Him. Let
it not be in vain that He has so died!
_EASTER EVEN._
_THE LAST SABBATH._
THE agony was over at last. Joseph and Nicodemus, openly taking sides
with the disciples of Jesus in this their darkest hour, had begged the
Lord's body, and with all the tenderness and reverence which the time
admitted, had laid it safely away in the garden tomb. The faithful
women who had watched by the cross saw where the body of their Lord
was laid, and sadly returned home. There was no more that they could
do. Yes, one thing more. They prepared spices and ointments, and then,
anxious as they were to complete the last service they could show, they
rested the Sabbath day according to the commandment. If they could do
no more, they could obey that law which He Himself had said should not
pass away till all was fulfilled.
They rested the Sabbath day. A sorrowful day, no doubt, yet not perhaps
without its gleams of comfort. He whom they trusted was to redeem
Israel was gone, dead by a shameful and cruel death. After all His
faithful teaching for three years among them, after all His miracles,
after that triumphal entry of only a week before, He was dead. And yet,
as they who had followed Him so faithfully, talked over the events of
their Lord's life, and recalled His words, it seems as if they must
have remembered those mysterious words of His about rising again. How
many had He not recalled from death? Had He not brought Lazarus back
after he had been dead four days? At all events, He was now out of
reach of His enemies. Their malice could not harm Him now, and they
should see Him again at that resurrection of the just which He had
taught them to expect.
They rested the Sabbath day according to the commandment. It was,
though they did not know it then, the last Sabbath under the old
law. Henceforth, as long as the world stood, the first instead of
the last day of the week was to be the "day of rest and gladness"
to all Christian hearts and homes. It was to be pre-eminently the
Lord's day—Sunday, we may well call it, since on that day the Sun of
Righteousness rose on His Church to set no more. The disciples and the
women did not know that it was the last, but they kept it in obedience.
That at least was in their power.
It may be that some one who reads these pages is bowed down with
trouble from within or without; perplexed with doubt, burdened with
a sense of unworthiness, and hesitating whether or not to go to the
Easter feast. To such an one let me say, dear friend, you can always
obey. The King Himself invites you to the feast; and a royal invitation
is a command. Draw near with faith, and take what your King offers you
out of loyalty to His will. Believe me, He will himself give you the
wedding garment which shall render you fit for His presence. And as for
your burden, lay it at His feet and leave it there. Only obey, and the
blessing will as surely follow as light follows the sun.
_EASTER._
_THE DAY OF THE LORD._
THIS is the day of the Lord; we will rejoice and be glad in it. It is
the great day of the Church, the crowning feast of the year. Even the
world rejoices on Christmas Day, though it scarcely knows why; but this
is the Christian's day. To him who does not believe, it means nothing;
to us, it means everything.
Our Lord has risen from the dead. Henceforth the grave has for us
no terror. Our Lord has opened its fast-barred gates and let in the
sunshine to every corner; and as we look into it, we see nothing to
affright us. He has made it a safe resting-place; and we may commit
to it the bodies of our dear ones, with the tears that love demands
indeed, but in hope, because as our Lord rose they too shall rise to
die, no more.
Our Lord is risen from the dead; and from henceforth the hope of a
future life is no more a dream, a theory, a fond hope. To us who
believe, it is a certainty beyond all doubt. Because He lives, we shall
live also.
When the women and the other disciples had become assured that their
Lord had really risen; when He had spoken and eaten with them, and
their hands had touched and handled Him, the distress and grief of
the last few days must have seemed to them like a bad dream. So will
the longest, weariest life seem to the disciple who looks at it from
the rest of Paradise. It was long, but the end came at last. It was
hard to bear, but it is all over now. The poor, weak soul trembled
at the passage, but it was safely made, and the Home is gained, from
which there is no going out forevermore. It was a dark, restless night
perhaps, full of sad dreams and fears, but it is past and gone now. The
sun has risen, and it will never set.
Our Lord is risen from the dead! He calls us, as He did His disciples,
to eat and drink with Him. Let us hasten to obey. And if we are so
shut-in that we cannot go with the multitude to His holy table, let us
prepare Him a place in our hearts, and rest assured that He will come
and sup with us and we with Him.
_CONCLUSION._
_LOOKING BACK._
EVERY wise merchant, at the close of a busy season, looks back over
his business, and reckons up his profits and losses. We, dear friends,
have been passing through a season of more than usual occupation and
privilege. Lent is now at an end. Let us look back and see if we have
gained or lost ground in our spiritual progress during the last busy
days.
We have surely gained, if we have used them as we ought. If we have
laid out a plan of work or study or self-denial, and adhered to it
as far as possible, our wills have been strengthened by the process.
If we have taken unavoidable interruptions pleasantly, if we have
borne with criticism, kind or unkind, good-naturedly, if we have been
un-ostentatious in our devotions, while yielding not a jot of what
we believe to be right, we have surely grown in grace. If we have
laid aside light and amusing books, that we might have more time for
religious reading and for Bible study, we have increased in knowledge.
In short, if we have used the time as we ought, we have laid up
strength and formed good habits which will help us through the entire
year.
But if, through idleness or self-indulgence, we have allowed the
precious hours and days to pass empty away; if our Bibles have been
neglected, and our time frittered away on trifles; if we have done and
given nothing for the spread of the Gospel, the advancement of the
Lord's cause—then has the Lenten season been lost. If we have formed no
good habits to carry us through the rest of the year, if we are ready
to plunge into new frivolities, or to take up the old ones with a new
zest after a few weeks of abstinence, then it is worse than lost. We
might better not have had it. For every privilege misused, every means
of grace unimproved, does but harden the heart and blunt the conscience.
Without wishing to be censorious, it does seem to me that a good many
Christians do up their religion in Lent, so as to have little left
for the rest of the year. For six weeks they are to be seen in the
Sunday-school, at the missionary meeting, at the week-day service; but
look for them after Easter, and you will find their places vacant.
"Yes, I went to the meetings in Lent," said one; "but now that the
world is going on again, there are so many claims on my time!" One
could not help wondering a little what claims the world had on the time
of a Christian after Easter any more than before.
But let us beware of judging our neighbors; we shall have quite
enough to do in examining our own consciences and bewailing our own
sinfulness, that we may come well prepared to the blessed feast of
Easter. We shall all see plenty to regret in the weeks that are
past. Let us see to it that the coming days—the days of our Lord's
humiliation and death—are so employed as that the feast of His joyful
and glorious resurrection may find us ready, in the marriage garment
prescribed by Holy Scripture, to be meet partakers of that Holy Table.
Isa. liii. 1 Cor. xi. 17.
THE END.