open it fully to the mind of the reader. We feel assured that a
clearer understanding thereof would chase away a thousand mists,
answer a thousand questions, and solve a thousand difficulties. It
would not only have the effect of giving settled peace to the soul,
but also of determining the believer's position in the most distinct
way. If Christ is my life--if I am in Him and identified with Him,
then not only do I share in His acceptance with God, but also in His
rejection by this present world. The two things go together. They form
the two sides of the one grand question. If I am in Christ and as
Christ before God, then I am in Christ and as Christ before the world:
and it will never do to accept the result of this union before God and
refuse the result of it as regards the world. If we have the one, we
must have the other likewise.
All this is fully unfolded in John xvii. There we read on the one
hand, "The glory which Thou gavest Me I have given them; that they may
be one, even as We are one: I in them, and Thou in Me, that they may
be made perfect in one; and that the world may know that Thou hast
sent Me, and _hast loved them as Thou hast loved Me_" (vers. 22, 23).
And, on the other hand, we read, "I have given them Thy Word; and _the
world hath hated them_, because they are not of the world, even as I
am not of the world" (ver. 14). This is as plain and positive as
anything can be. And be it remembered that, in this wondrous
scripture, our Lord is not speaking merely of the apostles, but, as He
says, of "them also who shall believe on Me through their word," that
is, of all believers. Hence it follows that all who believe in Jesus
are one with Him as accepted above, and one with Him as rejected
below. The two things are inseparable. The Head and the members share
in one common acceptance in heaven, and in one common rejection upon
earth. Oh that all the Lord's people entered more into the truth and
reality of this! Would that we all knew a little more of the meaning
of fellowship with a heaven-accepted, earth-rejected Christ!
PART II.
THE MINISTRY OF RECONCILIATION
"And all things are of God, who hath reconciled us to
Himself by Jesus Christ, and hath given to us the ministry
of reconciliation; to wit, that God was in Christ,
reconciling the world unto Himself, not imputing their
trespasses unto them; and hath committed unto us the word of
reconciliation. Now then we are ambassadors for Christ, as
though God did beseech you by us: we pray you in Christ's
stead, be ye reconciled to God. For He hath made Him to be
sin for us, who knew no sin; that we might be made the
righteousness of God in Him" (2 Cor. v. 18-21).
The fifth chapter of second Corinthians is a most weighty section of
Inspiration. Its closing lines contain the special thesis of the
following pages; but ere we proceed with it, we must call the reader's
attention to some most interesting and important points presented in
the course of the chapter.
And, first of all, let us dwell for a moment on the opening sentence,
"_We know_." In it we have the language of Christian certainty. It
does not say, "We _hope_." Still less does it say, "We _fear_," or "We
_doubt_." No; such language would not express that unclouded certainty
and calm assurance which it is the privilege of the very feeblest
child of God to possess. And yet, alas, how few, even of the children
of God, enjoy this blessed certainty--this calm assurance! Many there
are who look upon it as the height of presumption to say, "We know."
They seem to think that doubts and fears argue a proper condition of
soul--that it is impossible for anyone to be sure--that the most we
can expect is to cherish a vague hope of reaching heaven when we die.
Now, it must be admitted that if we ourselves had aught to do with the
ground of certainty or assurance, then it would indeed be the very
height of folly to think of being sure; then assuredly our hope would
be a very vague one. But, thanks be to God, it is not so. We having
nothing whatever to do with the ground of our certainty, it lies
entirely outside of ourselves, and it must be sought only and
altogether in the eternal word of God. This renders it blessedly
simple. It makes the whole question hinge upon the truth of God's
word. Why am I sure? Because God's word is true. A shadow of
uncertainty or misgiving on my part would argue a want of authority or
security in the word of God. It really comes to this: Christian
certainty rests on the faithfulness of God. Before you can shake the
former, you must shake the latter.
We can understand this simple principle by our dealings with one
another. If my fellow man makes a statement to me, and I express the
smallest doubt or misgiving, or if I feel it without even expressing
it, I am calling in question his truthfulness, or credibility. If he
is a faithful, competent authority, I have no business to entertain a
single doubt. My certainty is linked with his credibility. If he is a
competent authority, I may enjoy perfect repose as to the matter
concerning which he has spoken. Now, we all know what it is to receive
in the most unqualified way the testimony of man, and to repose with
calmness therein. It is not a question of feeling, but of receiving
without a single question a plain statement, and resting on the
authority of a competent witness. Well, then, as we have it in the
First Epistle of John, "If we receive the testimony of man, the
testimony of God is greater." So, also, our Lord said to the men of
His time, "If I say the truth, why do ye not believe Me?" (John viii.)
He appeals to the truth of what He says as the reason why, or the
ground on which, He expected to be believed.
This, Christian reader, is a very weighty principle, and one which
demands special attention on the part of all anxious inquirers, as
also on the part of all who undertake to deal with such. There is a
strong and constant tendency to look _within_ for the ground of
assurance--to build upon certain feelings, experiences, and exercises,
either past or present--to look back at some special process through
which we have passed, or to look in at certain impressions or
convictions of our own minds, and to find in these the ground of our
confidence, the warrant for our faith. This will never do. It is
impossible to find settled peace or calm repose in this way.
Feelings, however true and real, change and pass away. Experiences,
however genuine, may prove defective. Impressions and convictions may
prove utterly false. None of these things, therefore, can form a solid
ground of Christian certainty. This latter must be sought and found in
God's word alone. It is not in feelings, not in experiences, not in
impressions or convictions, not in reasonings, not in human traditions
or doctrines, but simply in the unchangeable, eternal Word of the
living God. That Word which is settled forever in heaven, and which
God has magnified according to all the stability of His name, can
alone impart peace to the mind and stability to the soul.
True, it is only by the gracious ministry of the Holy Ghost that we
can properly grasp and ever hold fast to the word of God; but still it
is His Word, and that Word _alone_, that forms the ground of Christian
certainty and the true basis and authority for the Christian in the
entire range of practical life and action. We cannot be too simple as
to this. We can only adopt the opening sentence of our chapter, and
say, "We know," when we take God's word as the all-sufficient ground
of our personal confidence. It will not do to be in any wise propped
up by human authority. Thousands of the people of God have been made
to taste the bitterness of leaning upon the commandments and doctrines
of men. It is sure to end in disappointment and confusion, sooner or
later. The edifice which is built upon the sand of human authority
must fall at some time or other; whereas that which is founded on the
rock of God's eternal truth shall stand forever. God's word imparts
its own stability to the soul that leans upon it. "Therefore thus
saith the Lord God, Behold, I lay in Zion for a foundation a stone, a
sure foundation; he that believeth shall not make haste" (Isa. xxviii.
16).
As is the foundation, so is the faith that builds thereon. Hence the
solemn importance of seeking to lead souls to build _only_ upon God's
precious Word. Look at the anxiety of the apostle Paul in reference to
this matter. Hear what he says to the Corinthians who were in such
danger of being led away by human leadership and human authority. "And
I, brethren, when I came to you, came not with excellency of speech or
of wisdom, declaring unto you _the testimony of God_. For I determined
not to know anything among you, save Jesus Christ and Him crucified.
And I was with you in weakness, and in fear, and in much trembling.
And my speech and my preaching was not with enticing words of man's
wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power. That your
faith should not stand in the wisdom of men, but in the power of God"
(1 Cor. ii. 1-5).
Here is a grand model for all preachers and teachers. Paul declared
the "testimony of God," nothing more, nothing less, nothing different.
And not only so, but he delivered that testimony in such a way as to
connect the souls of his hearers immediately with the living God.
Paul did not want the Corinthians to lean upon him; nay, he "trembled"
lest they should be tempted to do so. He would have done them a
grievous wrong had he in anywise come in between their souls and the
true source of all authority--the true foundation of confidence and
peace. Had he led them to build upon himself, he would have robbed
them of God, and this would have been a wrong indeed. No marvel,
therefore, that he was among them "in fear and in much trembling."
They were evidently very much prone to set up and follow after human
leaders, and thus miss the solid reality of personal communion with
and dependence upon the living God. Hence the jealous care of the
apostle in confining himself to the testimony of God; in delivering to
them _only_ that which he had received of the Lord (see 1 Cor. xi. 23,
xv. 3), lest the pure water should suffer in its passage from its
source in God to the souls of the Corinthians--lest he should in the
smallest degree impart the color of his own thoughts to the precious
truth of God.
We see the same thing in the First Epistle to the Thessalonians. "For
this cause also," says the faithful servant of Christ, "thank we God
without ceasing, because, when ye received the word of God which ye
heard of us, ye received it _not as the word of men_, but, _as it is
in truth, the word of God_, which effectually worketh also in you that
believe" (chap. ii. 13). Had he been seeking his own things, he would
have been glad to obtain influence over the Thessalonians by linking
them on to himself and leading them to lean upon him. But no; he
rejoices in seeing them in living connection, in direct and realized
association with God Himself. This is always the effect of true
ministry, as it is ever the object of the true minister. Unless the
soul be livingly linked with God, there is really nothing done. If it
be merely following men--receiving what they say because they say
it--an attachment to certain preachers or teachers because of
something in their style and manner, or because they seem to be very
holy, very separated, or very devoted--all this will come to naught.
Those human links will soon be snapped asunder. The faith that stands
in any measure in the wisdom of men will prove hollow and worthless.
Nothing will prove permanent, nothing will endure, but that faith
which rests on the testimony and in the power of the only true God.
Christian reader, we earnestly invite your attention to this point. We
do indeed feel its importance at the present moment. The enemy is
seeking diligently to lead souls away from God, away from Christ, away
from the holy Scriptures. He is seeking to get them to build on
something short of _the truth_. He does not care what it is, provided
it is not Christ. It may be reason, tradition, religiousness, human
priesthood, fleshy pietism, holiness in the flesh, sectarianism,
morality, good works, service (so called), human influence, patronage,
philanthropy, anything short of Christ, short of God's word, short of
a lively, personal, direct faith in the living God Himself.
Now it is the sense of this pressing home upon the heart that leads us
to urge with earnestness upon the reader the necessity of being
thoroughly clear as to the ground on which he is at this moment
standing. We want him to be able to say in the face of all around him,
"_I know._" Nothing less than this will stand. It will not do to say,
"_I hope._" No; there must be certainty. There must be the ability to
say, "We know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were
dissolved, _we have_ a building of God, an house not made with hands,
eternal in the heavens." This is the language of faith, the language
of a Christian. All is calm, clear, and sure, because all is of God.
There may be an "if" with regard to "the earthly house." It may be
dissolved, it may crumble into dust. All that belongs to this scene
may bear the stamp of death; it may change and pass away, but the Word
of the Lord endureth forever, and the faith that grasps and rests upon
that Word partakes of its eternal stability. It enables one to say,
"_I know_ that _I have_." Naught but faith can say this. Reason can
only say, "I doubt;" superstition, "I fear:" only faith can say, "I
know and am sure."
An infidel teacher once said to a dying woman whom he had
indoctrinated with his infidel notions, "Hold fast, Mary." What was
her reply? "I can't hold fast, for you have never given me anything to
hold by." Cutting rebuke! He had taught the poor woman to doubt, but
he had given her nothing to believe; and then, when flesh and heart
were failing, when earthly scenes were passing away and the dread
realities of eternity were crowding in upon her soul's vision,
infidelity altogether failed her; its wretched cobwebs could afford no
refuge, no covering, in view of death and judgment. How different the
condition of the believer--of the one who, in all simplicity of heart
and humility of mind, takes his stand on the solid rock of Holy
Scripture! Such an one can calmly say, "_I am now ready_ to be
offered, and the time of my departure is at hand. I have fought a good
fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith; henceforth
there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the
righteous judge, shall give me at that day: and not to me only, but to
all them, also, that love His appearing" (2 Tim. iv. 6-8).
It is more than probable that some may find it difficult to reconcile
the calm certainty expressed in the first verse of our chapter with
the groan of ver. 2. But the difficulty will vanish the moment we are
enabled to see the true reason of the groan. "For in this we groan,
earnestly desiring to be clothed upon with our house which is from
heaven, if so be that, being clothed, we shall not be found naked. For
we that are in this tabernacle do groan, being burdened; not for that
we would be unclothed, but clothed upon, that mortality might be
swallowed up of life."
Here we see that the very certainty of having "a building of God, an
house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens," makes us groan to
possess it. The apostle did not groan in doubt or uncertainty. He did
not groan under the weight of guilt or fear. Still less did he groan
because he could not satisfy the desires of the flesh or of the mind,
or because he could not surround himself with this world's perishable
possessions. No; he longed for the heavenly building--the divine, the
real, the eternal. He felt the heavy burden of the poor, crumbling
tabernacle; it was a grievous hindrance to him. It was the only link
with the scene around, and as such it was a heavy clog of which he
longed to be rid.
But, most clearly, he would not, and could not, have groaned for the
heavenly house if he had a single question on his mind with respect to
it. Men are never anxious to get rid of the body unless they are sure
of possessing something better; nay, they grasp this present life with
intense eagerness, and tremble at the thought of the future, which is
all darkness and uncertainty to them. They groan at the thought of
quitting the body; the apostle groaned because he was in it.
This makes all the difference. Scripture never contemplates such a
thing as a Christian groaning under sin, guilt, doubt, or fear; or
sighing after the riches, honors or pleasures of this vain,
sin-stricken world. Alas, alas, they do thus groan through ignorance
of their true position in a risen Christ and their proper portion in
the heavens! But such is not the ground or character of the groan in
the scripture now before us; Paul saw with distinctness his house in
the heavens; and, on the other hand, he felt the heavy burden of the
tabernacle of clay; and he ardently longed to lay aside the latter and
be clothed with the former.
Hence, then, there is the fullest harmony between "_we know_" and "_we
groan_." If we did not know for a certainty that we have a building of
God, we should like to hold our earthly house as long as possible. We
see this constantly. Men cling to life. They leave nothing untried to
keep body and soul together. They have no certainty as to heaven. They
cannot say, "we _know_" that "we _have_" anything there. On the other
hand, they have a terrible dread of the future, which to their vision
is wrapped up in clouds and thick darkness. They have never committed
themselves in calm confidence to God and His word; they have never
felt the tranquilizing power of His love. They have viewed Him as an
angry Judge instead of seeing Him as the sinner's Friend--a just God
and a Saviour--the righteous Justifier. No marvel, therefore, if they
shrink with terror from the thought of meeting Him.
But it is a totally different thing with a man who knows God as his
Father--his Saviour--his best Friend; who knows that Jesus died to
save him from his sins, and from all the consequences thereof. Such an
one can say:
"I have a home above,
From sin and sorrow free;
A mansion which eternal Love
Designed and formed for me.
"The Father's gracious hand
Has built this blest abode;
From everlasting it was planned,
The dwelling-place of God.
"The Saviour's precious blood
Has made my title sure;
He passed through death's dark, raging flood,
To make my rest secure."
These are the breathings of simple faith, and they perfectly harmonize
with the groans of a spirit "that looks beyond its cage and longs to
flee away." The believer finds his body of sin and death a heavy
burden, and longs to be free from the encumbrance, and to be clothed
upon with a body suited to his new and eternal state--a new creation
body--a body perfectly free from every trace of mortality. This cannot
be until the morning of resurrection, that glorious moment, long
looked for, when the dead in Christ shall rise and the living saints
be changed, in a moment; when death shall be swallowed up in victory,
and mortality shall be swallowed up of life.
It is for this we groan, not that we would be unclothed, but clothed
upon. The unclothed state is not _the_ object, though we know that to
be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord; and to depart
and be with Christ is far better. The Lord Jesus is waiting that
glorious consummation, and we wait in sympathy with Him. Meanwhile,
"the whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain together until
now. And not only so, but ourselves also, which have the firstfruits
of the Spirit, even we ourselves groan within ourselves, waiting for
the adoption, to wit, the redemption of our body. For we are saved in
hope: but hope that is seen is not hope: for what a man seeth, why
doth he yet hope for? But if we hope for that we see not, then do we
with patience wait for it" (Rom. viii. 22-25).
Thus, then, beloved reader, we have before us a very distinct answer
to the question, "Why does the believer groan?" He groans, being
burdened. He groans in sympathy with a groaning creation, with which
he is linked by means of a body of sin and death--a body of
humiliation. He sees around him, day by day, the sad fruits of sin. He
cannot pass along the streets of our cities and towns without having
before his eyes a thousand proofs of man's sad state. He hears on one
side the wail of sorrow; on another, the cry of distress. He sees
oppression, violence, corruption, strife, heartless villany and its
victims. He sees the thorn, and the briar. He notes the various
disturbing forces which are abroad in the physical, the moral, and the
political world. He marks the varied forms of disease and misery
around him. The cry of the poor and the needy, the widow and the
orphan, falls sadly upon his ear and upon his heart; and what can he
do but send up from the deepest depths of his spiritual nature a
sympathetic groan, and long for the blissful moment when "the
creation itself shall be delivered from the bondage of corruption into
the liberty of the glory of the sons of God?" It is impossible for a
true Christian to pass through a world like this without groaning.
Look at the blessed Master Himself; did not He groan? Yes, verily.
Mark Him as He approached the grave of Lazarus, in company with the
two weeping sisters. "When Jesus therefore saw her weeping, and the
Jews also weeping which came with her, he groaned in the spirit, and
was troubled, and said, Where have ye laid him? They said unto him,
Lord, come and see. Jesus wept" (Jno. xi. 33-35).
Whence came those tears and groans? Was He not approaching the grave
of His friend as the Prince of Life--the Quickener of the dead--the
Conqueror of death--the Spoiler of the grave? Why, then, did He groan?
He groaned in sympathy with the objects of His love, and with the
whole scene around Him. His tears and groans emanated from the
profound depths of a perfect human heart which felt, according to God,
the true condition of the human family and of Israel in particular. He
beheld around Him the varied fruits of sin. He felt for man, He felt
for Israel. "In all their afflictions He was afflicted." He was a Man
of sorrows and acquainted with grief. He never even cured a person
without bearing upon His spirit the reality of that with which He was
dealing. He did not, He would not, lightly bid away death, disease,
and sorrow. No: He entered into it all, as man; and that, too,
according to the infinite perfections of His divine nature. He bore it
all upon His spirit, in the reality of it, before God. Though
perfectly free from it all, and above it all, yet did He in grace
voluntarily enter into it most thoroughly, so as to taste, and prove,
and know it all, as none else could know it.
All this is fully expressed in Matt. viii., where we read the
following words: "When the even was come, they brought unto Him many
that were possessed with devils; and He cast out the spirits with His
word, and healed all that were sick; that it might be fulfilled which
was spoken by Esaias the prophet, saying, _Himself took our
infirmities, and bare our sicknesses_" (vers. 16, 17).
We have very little idea of what the heart of Jesus felt as He passed
through this sorrowful, because sinful, world; and we are far too apt
to miss the reality of His sufferings by confining them merely to what
He endured on the cross, and also by supposing that because He was God
over all, blessed for ever, He did not feel all that a human heart is
capable of feeling. This is a sad loss. Indeed we may say it is an
incalculable loss. The Lord Jesus, as the Captain of our salvation,
was made perfect through sufferings. See Heb. ii., where the inspired
writer distinguishes carefully between "the suffering of death," and
the "sufferings" of the Captain of our salvation. In order to save
sinners from _wrath_, "He tasted death for every man," and having
done so, we see Him "crowned with glory and honor." But in order to
"_bring many sons to glory_," He had to be "perfected through
sufferings." And now all true believers have the unspeakable privilege
of knowing that there is One at the right hand of the Majesty in the
heavens who, when in this world of sin and woe, tasted every form of
suffering and every cup of sorrow which it was possible for any human
heart to know. He could say, "Reproach hath broken My heart, and I am
full of heaviness: and I looked for some to take pity, but there was
none, and for comforters, but I found none" (Ps. lxix. 20).
How deeply affecting is all this! But we cannot pursue this subject
here. We have merely touched upon it in connection with the question,
"Why does the believer groan?" We trust that the reader will see
clearly the true answer to this inquiry; and that it will be most
evident to his mind that the groans of a Christian proceed from the
divine nature which he actually possesses, and cannot therefore, by
any possibility, be occasioned by doubts or fears, on the one hand,
nor yet by selfish desires or the insatiable cravings of nature, on
the other. But that, on the contrary, the very fact of his possessing
everlasting life, through faith in Christ, and the blessed assurance
of having a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens, causes
him to long for that blessed, indestructible building, and to groan
because of his connection with a groaning creation, as well as in
sympathy therewith.
If any further proof were needed, on this deeply interesting question,
we have it in verses 5 and 6 of our chapter (2 Cor. v.), where the
apostle goes on to say, "Now He that hath wrought us for the selfsame
thing is God, who also hath given unto us the earnest of the Spirit.
Therefore we are _always confident_ (not doubting or fearing), knowing
that whilst we are at home in the body we are absent from the Lord
(for we walk by faith, not by sight), we are confident, I say, and
willing rather to be absent from the body, and to be present with the
Lord" (vers. 5-8).
Here we have two grand cardinal truths laid down, namely, first, The
believer is God's workmanship; and secondly, God has given him the
earnest of the Spirit. Most marvellous--most glorious facts! Facts
which demand the attention of the reader. Everyone who simply and
heartily believes on the Lord Jesus Christ is God's workmanship. God
has created him anew in Christ Jesus. Clearly, therefore, there can be
no possible ground for questioning his acceptance with God, inasmuch
as God can never call in question His own work. He will, assuredly, no
more do this in His new creation, than He did in the old. When God
looked upon His work, in the opening of the Book of Genesis, it was
not to judge it or call it in question, but to announce it very good,
and express His complacency in it. So now, when God looks upon the
very feeblest believer, He sees in him His own workmanship, and most
assuredly, He is not going, either here or hereafter, to call in
question His own work. God is a rock, His work is perfect, and the
believer is God's work; and because he is His work He has sealed him
with the Holy Ghost.
The same truth is stated in Ephesians ii. where we read, "For we are
God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works, which God
hath before ordained that we should walk in them." This, we may truly
say, is a point of the weightiest moment. It claims the grave
attention of the reader who desires to be thoroughly established in
the truth of God as to what a Christian--what Christianity really is.
It is not a ruined, lost, guilty sinner seeking to work himself up
into something or other fit for God. It is the very reverse. It is
God, in the riches of His grace, on the ground of the atoning death of
Christ, taking up a poor, dead, worthless, condemned thing--a guilty,
hell-deserving sinner, and creating him anew in Christ Jesus. It is,
as it were, God beginning _de novo_--on the new, as we may say--to
form man in Christ, to place him on a new footing altogether, not now
as an innocent being on a creation basis, but as a justified one, in a
risen Christ. It is not man's old condition improved by human effort
of any sort or description; but it is God's new workmanship in a
risen, ascended, and glorified Christ. It is not man's own garment
pieced or patched by human device in any shape or form whatever; but
it is God's new garment introduced in the person of Christ, who
having, in infinite grace, gone down into the dust of death, and
endured, on man's behalf, the judgment of sin, the righteous wrath of
a sin-hating God, was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father,
and is become the Head of the new creation--"The beginning of the
creation of God" (Rev. iii. 14).
Now, it must be perfectly clear to the reader, that if our Lord Jesus
Christ be, in very deed "the _beginning_" of God's creation, then we
must begin at the beginning, else we have done absolutely nothing at
all. We may labor and toil--we may do our very utmost, and be
perfectly sincere in our doing--we may vow and resolve--we may seek to
improve our state, to alter our course, to mend our ways, to live in a
different way--but all the while we are in the old creation, which has
been completely set aside, and is under the judgment of God; we have
not begun at "the beginning" of God's new creation, and, as a
necessary consequence, we have gained nothing at all. We have been
spending our strength for nought and in vain. We have been putting
forth efforts to improve a thing which God has condemned and set aside
altogether. We are, to use a very feeble figure indeed, like a man who
is spending his time, his pains, and his money in painting and
papering a house that has been condemned by the government surveyor,
on account of the rottenness of the foundation, and which must be
taken down at once.
What should we say to such a man? Should we not deem him very foolish?
Doubtless. But if it be folly to paint and paper a condemned house,
what shall we say to those who are seeking to improve a condemned
nature--a condemned world? We must say this, at least, they are
pursuing a course which must, sooner or later, end in disappointment
and confusion.
Oh that this were understood and entered into! Would to God that
Christians more fully entered into it! Would to God that all Christian
writers, preachers, and teachers entered into it, and set it forth
distinctly with pen and voice! At the least, we earnestly desire that
the reader should thoroughly grasp it. We are most fully persuaded
that it is pre-eminently "truth for the times." It is truth to meet
the need of thousands of souls--to remove their burdens, relieve their
hearts and consciences--solve their difficulties--chase away their
clouds. There are, at this moment, throughout the length and breadth
of Christendom, countless multitudes engaged in the fruitless work of
painting and papering a condemned house--a house on which God has
pronounced judgment, because of the hopelessly ruined condition of its
foundations. They are seeking to do little jobs of repairs here and
there throughout the house, forgetting, or perhaps not knowing, that
the whole building is very shortly to be demolished by order of the
divine government. Some are doing this with the utmost sincerity, amid
much sore exercise of soul, and many tears, because they cannot
succeed in satisfying their own hearts even, much less the claims of
God. For God demands a perfect thing, not a patched-up ruin. There is
no use in seeking to cover with paper and paint old walls tottering on
a rotten foundation. God cannot be deceived by surface work, by
shallow outside appearances. The foundations are bad, the whole thing
must come down, and we must put our whole trust in Him who is "the
beginning of the creation of God."
Reader, pause here for a moment's calm and serious reflection. Ask
yourself the question, "Am I seeking to patch up a ruin? Am I seeking
to improve the old nature? Or have I really found my place in God's
new creation, of which a risen Christ is the Head and Beginning?"
Remember, we beseech you, that you cannot possibly engage in more
fruitless toil than seeking to make yourself better. Your efforts may
be sincere, but they must, in the long run, prove worthless. Your
paper and paint may be all good and genuine enough, but you are
putting them on a condemned ruin. You cannot say of your unrenewed
nature that it is "God's workmanship;" and, most assuredly, _your_
doings, _your_ good works, _your_ religious exercises, _your_ efforts
to keep the ten commandments--nothing, in short, that _you_ can do,
could possibly be called "God's workmanship." It is yours, and not
God's. He cannot acknowledge it. He cannot seal it with His Spirit. It
is all false and good for nothing. If you cannot say, "He that hath
wrought us for the selfsame thing is God," you have really nothing.
You are yet in your sins. You have not begun at God's beginning. You
are yet "in the flesh:" and the voice of Holy Scripture declares that
"they that are in the flesh _cannot_ please God" (Rom. viii).
This is a solemn and sweeping sentence. A man out of Christ is "in the
flesh;" and such a man cannot please God. He may be most religious,
most moral, most amiable, most benevolent, a most excellent master, a
generous friend, a liberal giver, a genial companion, a patron of the
poor, upright and honorable in all his dealings, he may be an eloquent
preacher and a popular writer, and all the while not be "_in Christ_,"
but "in the flesh," and therefore he "cannot please God."
Can aught be more solemn than this? Only to think of how far a person
may go in all that is deemed excellent among men, and yet not be in
Christ, but in his sins--in the flesh--in the old creation--in the
condemned house. And be it noted that it is not a question of gross
sins, of scandalous living, in all its varied, hideous shapes of
immorality, in its deeper and darker shades; no, the declaration of
Holy Scripture is, that "they that are in the flesh cannot please
God." This, truly, is most soul-subduing, and calls for deep and
solemn reflection on the part of every thoughtful and earnest soul.
But it may be that, to the reader's view, difficulties and stumbling
blocks still surround this most weighty subject. He may still be
utterly at a loss to know what is meant by the expression, "In the
flesh." If so it will, we fondly hope, help him not a little to
remember that Scripture speaks of _two men_--"the first man" and "the
Second Man." These two men are presented as the heads of two distinct
races. Adam _fallen_ is the head of one race; Christ _risen_ is the
Head of the other race. Now, the very fact of there being "a Second
Man" proves that the first man had been set aside: for if the first
man had proved faultless, then should no place have been sought for
the second. This is clear and unquestionable. The first man is a total
wreck--an irreparable ruin. The foundations of the old edifice have
given way; and albeit, in man's view, the building seems to stand, and
to be capable of being repaired, yet, in God's view it is completely
set aside, and a Second Man--a new edifice--set up, on the solid and
imperishable ground of redemption.
Hence, we read, in Gen. iii., that God "_drove out the man_; and He
placed at the east of the garden of Eden cherubims, and a flaming
sword which turned _every way_, to keep the way of the tree of life."
In other words, the first man was driven out, and every possible way
of return was closed against him, as _such_. He could only get back by
"a new and living way," namely, through the rent veil of the Saviour's
flesh. The flaming sword "turned every way," so that there was
positively no way by which the first man could ever get back to his
former state. The only hope, now, was through "the seed of the
woman"--"the Second Man." The flaming sword declared, in symbolic yet
impressive language, the truth, which comes out in the New Testament
divested of all symbol and shadow, namely, that "they that are in the
flesh _cannot_ please God"--"Ye must be born again." Every unconverted
man, woman, and child is part and parcel of the first man, fallen,
ruined, set aside, and driven out. He is a member of the first
Adam--the old race--a stone in the old condemned building.
Thus it stands, if we are to be guided by Scripture. The head and his
race go together. As is the one, so is the other; what is true of the
one is true of the other. They are, in God's view, absolutely
identical. Was the first Adam fallen when he became the head of a
race? Was he driven out? Was he completely set aside? Yes, verily, if
we are to believe Scripture; then the unconverted--the unregenerated
reader of these lines is fallen, driven out, and set aside. As is the
head, so is the member--each member in particular--all the members
together. They are inseparable, if we are to be taught by divine
revelation.
But, further, was every possible way of return finally closed against
the fallen head? yes, Scripture declares that the flaming sword turned
"_every way_, to keep the way of the tree of life." Then it is utterly
impossible that the unconverted--the unregenerate can improve himself
or make himself fit for God. If the fallen head could not get back to
the tree of life, neither can the fallen member. "They that are in the
flesh cannot please God." That is, they that are on the old footing,
in the old creation, members of the first Adam, part and parcel of the
old edifice, cannot please God. "Ye must be born again." Man must be
renewed in the very deepest springs and sources of his being. He must
be "God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works, which
God hath before prepared that we should walk in them." He must be able
to say, in the language of our text, "He that has wrought us for the
selfsame thing is God."
But this leads us to another point. How is anyone to get into this
marvellous position? How can any soul take up such language? How can
anyone whose eyes have been opened to see his utter and hopeless ruin,
as connected with the first man, as standing in the old creation, as a
stone in the old edifice--how can such an one ever reach a position in
which he can please God? The Lord be praised, Scripture gives an
answer, full, clear, and distinct, to this serious question. A second
Man has appeared upon the scene--the Seed of the woman, and, at the
same time, God over all, blessed for ever. In Him all begins afresh.
He came into this world born of a woman, made under the law, pure and
spotless, free from every taint of sin, personally apart from every
claim of sin and death, standing in the midst of a ruined world, a
guilty race, Himself that pure, untainted grain of wheat. We see Him
lying as a babe in the manger. We see Him growing up as a youth
beneath the parental roof. We see Him as a man working in a
carpenter's shop at Nazareth. We see Him baptised in Jordan, where all
the people were baptised confessing their sins--Himself sinless, but
fulfilling all righteousness, and, in perfect grace, identifying
Himself with the repentant portion of the nation of Israel. We see Him
anointed with the Holy Ghost for the work that lay before Him. We see
Him in the wilderness faint and hungry, unlike the first man who was
placed in the midst of a paradise of creature delights. We see Him
tempted of Satan and coming off victorious. We trace Him along the
pathway of public ministry--and such a ministry! What incessant toil!
What weariness and watching! What hunger and thirst! What sorrow and
travail! Worse off than the fowls and the foxes, the Son of man had
not where to lay His head. The contradiction of sinners by day, the
mountain-top by night.
Such was the marvellous life of this blessed One. But this was not
all. He died! Yes, He died under the weight of the first man's guilt,
He died to take away the sin of the world, and alter completely the
ground of God's relationship with the world, so that God might deal
with man and with the world on the new ground of redemption, instead
of the old ground of sin. He died for the nation of Israel. He tasted
death for every man. He died the just for the unjust. He suffered for
sins. He died and was buried, according to the Scriptures. He went
through all--met all--paid all--finished all. He went down into the
dust of death, and lay in the dark and silent tomb. He descended into
the lower parts of the earth. He went down to the very bottom of
everything. He endured the sentence passed on man. He paid the
penalty, bore the judgment, drained the cup of wrath, went through
every form of human suffering and trial, was tempted in all points,
sin excepted. He made an end of everything that stood in the way, and,
having _finished all_, He gave up His spirit into the hand of His
Father, and His precious body was laid in a tomb on which the smell of
death had never passed.
Nor was this all. He rose! Yes, He rose triumphant over all. He rose
as the Head of the new creation--"The beginning of the creation of
God"--"The first-begotten from among the dead"--"The first-born among
many brethren." And now the second Man is before God, crowned with
glory and honor, not in an earthly paradise, but at the right hand of
the Majesty in the heavens. This second Man is the last Adam, because
there is none to come after Him, we cannot get beyond the last. There
is only one Man before God now. The first is set aside. The last is
set up. And as the first was the fallen head of a fallen race, so the
last is the risen Head of a saved, justified, and accepted race. The
Head and His members are inseparably identified--all the members
together, and each member in particular. We are accepted in Him. "As
He is, so are we in this world" (1 John iv. 17). There is nothing
before God but Christ. The Head and the body, the Head and each
individual member are indissolubly joined together--inseparably and
eternally one. God thinks of the members as He thinks of the
Head--loves them as He loves Him. Those members are God's workmanship,
incorporated by His Spirit into the body of Christ, and in God's
presence, having no other footing, no other rank, position, or station
whatsoever but "in Christ." They are no longer "in the flesh, but in
the Spirit." They can please God, because they possess His nature, and
are sealed by His Spirit, and guided by His word. "_He that hath
wrought them is God_," and God must ever delight in His own
workmanship. He will never find fault with or condemn the work of His
own hand. "God is a rock, His work is perfect," and hence the
believer, as God's workmanship, must be perfect. He is "IN CHRIST,"
and that is enough--enough for God--enough for faith--enough for ever.
And, now, if it be asked, "How is all this to be attained?" Scripture
replies, "BY FAITH." "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; but is passed from death unto life"
(John v. 24).
The reader who has traveled intelligently with us through the opening
lines of our chapter will be in a position to understand something of
the solemn and momentous subject to which we now approach, namely, the
judgment-seat of Christ. If indeed it be true that the believer is
God's workmanship--if he is actually a member of Christ--associated
with the second Adam--bound up in the bundle of life with the risen
and glorified Lord, if all this be true--and God's word declares it
is--then it must be perfectly evident that the judgment-seat of Christ
cannot, by any possibility, touch the Christian's position, or prove,
in any wise, unfriendly to him. No doubt it is a most solemn and
serious matter, involving the most weighty consequences to every
servant of Christ, and designed to exert a most salutary influence
upon the heart and conscience of every man. But it will do all this
just in proportion as it is viewed from the true standpoint, and no
further. It is not to be supposed that anyone can reap the divinely
appointed blessing from meditating on the judgment-seat, if he is
looking forward to it as the place where the grand question of his
eternal salvation is to be settled. And yet how many are thus
regarding it! How many of God's true people are there, who, from not
seeing the simple truth involved in these words, "He that hath wrought
us for the selfsame thing is God," are anticipating the judgment-seat
of Christ as something that may, after all, condemn them.
This is greatly to be deplored, both because it dishonors the Lord,
and completely destroys the soul's peace and liberty. For how, let us
ask, is it possible for anyone to enjoy peace so long as there is a
single question about salvation to be settled? We conceive it is
wholly impossible. The peace of the true believer rests on the fact
that every possible question has been divinely and eternally settled;
and as a consequence, no question can ever arise, either before the
judgment-seat of Christ, or at any other time. Hear what our Lord
Jesus Christ saith in reference to this great question: "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
condemnation [or judgment]; but is passed from death unto life" (John
v. 24).
It is important that the reader should understand that the word used
by our Lord in the above passage is not "condemnation" but "judgment."
He assures the believer that he shall never come into judgment; and
this, too, be it observed, in immediate connection with the statement
that "the Father judgeth no man, but hath committed all judgment unto
the Son" (ver. 22). And, again, "For as the Father hath life in
Himself, so hath He given to the Son to have life in Himself; and hath
given Him authority to execute judgment also, because He is the Son of
man" (ver. 26, 27).
Thus, then, the One to whom all judgment is committed--who alone has
authority to execute judgment, by the Father's just decree--this
blessed One assures us that if we hearken to His Word, and believe on
Him that sent Him, we shall never come into judgment at all.
This is clear and conclusive. It must tranquillize the heart
completely. It must roll away every cloud and mist, and conduct the
soul into a region where no question can ever arise to disturb its
deep and eternal repose. If the One who has all judgment in His hand,
and all authority to execute it--if _He_ assures me that I shall never
come into judgment, I am perfectly satisfied. I believe His Word, and
rest in the happy assurance that whatever the judgment-seat of Christ
may prove to others, it cannot prove unfriendly to me. I know that the
word of the Lord endureth for ever, and that the Word tells me I shall
never come into judgment.
But it may be that the reader finds it difficult, if not impossible,
to reconcile this entire exemption from judgment with the solemn fact
stated by our Lord, that "for every idle word that men shall speak,
they shall give account thereof in the day of judgment." But there is
really no difficulty in the matter. If a man has to meet judgment at
all, he must give account for every idle word. How awfully solemn the
thought! There is no escaping it. Were it possible for a single idle
word to be let pass, it would be a dishonor to the judgment-seat. It
would be a sign of weakness and incompetency which is utterly
impossible. It were blasphemy against the Son of God to suppose that
a single stain could escape His scrutinizing gaze. If the reader comes
into judgment, that judgment must be perfect, and, hence, his
condemnation must be inevitable.
We would press this serious matter upon the attention of the
unconverted reader. It imperatively demands his immediate and earnest
consideration. There is a day rapidly approaching when every idle
word, and every foolish thought, and every sinful act, will be brought
to light, and he will have to answer for it. Christ, as a Judge, has
eyes like unto a flame of fire, and feet like unto fine brass--eyes to
detect, and feet to crush the evil. There will be no escape. There
will be no mercy then: all will be stern and unmitigated judgment. "I
saw a great white throne, and Him that sat on it, from whose face the
earth and the heaven fled away; and there was found no place for them.
And I saw the dead, small and great, stand before God: and the _books_
were opened; and another _book_ was opened, which is the book of life;
and the dead were judged out of those things which were written in the
_books_, according to their _works_. And the sea gave up the dead
which were in it, and death and the grave gave up the dead which were
in them; and they were judged _every man according to their works_.
And death and the grave were cast into the lake of fire. This is the
second death. And whosoever was not found written in the book of life
was cast into the lake of fire" (Rev. xx. 11-15).
Mark here the difference between "the books" and "the book of life."
The entire scene sets forth the judgment of the wicked dead--of those
who have died in their sins, from first to last. "The book of life" is
opened; but there is no judgment for those whose names are written
therein by the hand of electing and redeeming love. "The books" are
opened--those awful records written in characters deep, broad, and
black--those terrible catalogues of the sins of every man, woman, and
child, from the beginning to the end of time. There will be no
escaping in the crowd. Each one will stand in his own most intense
individuality in that appalling moment. The eye of each will be turned
in upon himself, and back upon his past history. All will be seen in
the light of the great white throne, from which there is no escape.
The sceptic may reason against all this. He may say, "_How_ can these
things be? _How_ could all the dead stand before God? _How_ could the
countless millions, who have passed away since the foundation of the
world find sufficient space before the judgment-seat?" The answer is
very simple to the true believer, whatever it may be to the sceptic;
God who made them, will make a place for them to stand for judgment,
and a place to lie in everlasting torment. Tremendous thought? "God
hath appointed a day in the which He will judge the world in
righteousness, by that Man whom He hath ordained; whereof He hath
given assurance unto all men, in that He hath raised Him from the
dead" (Acts xvii. 31).
And be it remembered that "_every man_ will be judged according to
_his_ works." The solemn session of the judgment referred to in
Revelation xx. will not be an indiscriminate act. Let none suppose
this. There are "_books_"--rolls--records. "_Every man_" will be
judged. How? "According to _his_ works." Nothing can be more precise
and specific. Each one has committed his own sins, and for them he
will be judged and punished everlastingly. We are aware that many
cherish the notion that people will only be judged for rejecting the
gospel. It is a fatal mistake. Scripture teaches the direct contrary.
It declares that people will be judged according to their works. What
are we to learn from the "many stripes" and the "few stripes" of Luke
xii.? What is the force of the words "more tolerable" in Matthew xi.?
Are we not plainly taught by these words that there will be a
difference in the degrees of judgment and punishment? And does not the
apostle most distinctly teach us in Ephesians iv., and Colossians
iii., that the wrath of God cometh upon the children of disobedience
(or unbelief) "because of" certain sins against which he solemnly
warns the saints?
No doubt the rejection of the gospel leaves people on the ground of
judgment, just as the true belief of the gospel takes people off that
ground. But the judgment will be, in every case, according to a man's
works. Are we to suppose that the poor ignorant savage, who has lived
and died amid the gloomy shades of heathen darkness, will be found in
the same "book," or punished with the same severity as a man who has
lived and died in the total rejection of the full blaze of gospel
light and privilege? Not for a moment, so long as the words "more
tolerable" stand on the page of inspiration. The savage will be judged
according to his works, and the baptized sinner will be judged
according to his works, but assuredly it will be more tolerable for
the former than the latter. God knows how to deal with people. He can
discriminate, and He declares that He will give to each according to
his works.
Reader, think of this, we beseech you. Think deeply, think seriously.
If thou art unconverted, think of it for thyself, for, assuredly, it
concerns thee. And if thou art converted, think of it for others, as
the apostle says, "Knowing the terror of the Lord, we persuade men."
It is impossible for anyone to reflect upon the great and awful fact
of judgment to come, and not be stirred up to warn his fellows. We
believe it is of the very last possible importance that the
consciences of men should be acted upon by the solemn truth of the
judgment-seat of Christ--that they should be made to feel the
seriousness of having to do with God as a Judge.
Should the reader, whoever he be, have been led to feel this--if he
has been roused by this weighty matter--if he is, even now, asking the
question, "What must I do?" the answer is blessedly simple. The
gospel declares that the One who will, ere long, act as a Judge, is
now revealed as a Justifier--even a Justifier of the ungodly sinner
that believeth in Jesus. This changes the aspect of things entirely.
It is not that the thought of the judgment-seat loses a single jot or
tittle of its gravity and solemnity. Quite the contrary. It stands in
all its weight and magnitude. But the believer looks at it from a
totally different point of view. In place of looking at the
judgment-seat of Christ as a guilty member of the first Adam, he looks
at it as a justified and accepted member of the Second. In place of
looking forward to it as the place where the question of his eternal
salvation or perdition is to be decided, he looks to it as one who
knows that he is God's workmanship, and that he can never come into
judgment, inasmuch as he has been taken clean off the ground of guilt,
death, and judgment, and placed, through the death and resurrection of
Christ, on a new ground altogether, even the ground of life,
righteousness, and cloudless favor.
It is most needful to be clear as to this grand fundamental truth.
Very many even of the people of God are clouded in reference to it,
and hence it is that they are afraid when they think of the
judgment-seat. They do not know God as a Justifier. Their faith has
not grasped Him as the One who raised up Jesus our Lord from the dead.
They are looking to Christ to keep God out as a Judge, very much in
the same way as the Israelites looked to the blood to keep out the
destroyer. See Ex. xii. It is true and real enough, so far as it goes;
but it falls very far short of the truth revealed in the New
Testament. There is a vast difference between keeping God out as a
Destroyer and a Judge, and bringing Him in as a Saviour and a
Justifier. An Israelite would have dreaded, above all things, God's
coming in to him. Why? Because God was passing through the land as a
Destroyer. The Christian, on the contrary, delights to be in the
presence of God. Why? Because He has revealed Himself as a Justifier.
How? By raising up Jesus our Lord from the dead.
There are three forms of expression used by the inspired apostle in
Rom. iii. and iv. which should be carefully pondered. In chap. iii.
26, he speaks of "believing in Jesus." In chap. iv. 5, he speaks of
"believing in Him that justifieth the ungodly." And, ver. 24, he
speaks of "believing in Him that raised up Jesus our Lord from the
dead."
Now, there is no distinction in Scripture without a difference; and
when we see a distinction it is our business to inquire as to the
difference. What then, is the difference between believing in Jesus,
and believing in Him that raised up Jesus? We believe it to be this.
We may often find souls who are really looking to Jesus and believing
in Him, and yet they have, deep down in their hearts a sort of dread
of meeting God. It is not that they doubt their salvation, or that
they are not really saved. By no means. They are saved, inasmuch as
they are looking to Christ, by faith, and all who so look are saved in
Him with an everlasting salvation. All this is most blessedly true:
but still there is this latent fear or dread of God, and a shrinking
from death. They know that Jesus is friendly to them, inasmuch as He
died for them; but they do not see so clearly the friendship of God.
Hence it is that we find so many of God's people in uncertainty and
spiritual distress. Their faith has not yet laid hold of God as the
One who raised up Jesus our Lord from the dead. They are not quite
sure of how it may go with them. At times they are happy, because by
virtue of the new nature, of which they are assuredly the partakers,
they get occupied with Christ: but at times they are miserable,
because they begin to look at themselves, and they do not see God as
their Justifier, and as the One who has condemned sin in the flesh.
They are thinking of God as a Judge with whom some question still
remains to be settled. They feel as if God's eye were resting on their
indwelling sin, and as if they had, in some way or other, to dispose
of that question with God.
Thus it is, we feel persuaded, with hundreds of the true saints of
God. They do not see God as the Condemner of sin in Christ on the
cross, and the Justifier of the believing sinner in Christ rising from
the dead. They are looking to Christ on the cross to screen them from
God as a Judge, instead of looking to God as a Justifier, in raising
up Christ from the dead. Jesus was delivered for our offences, and
raised again for our justification. Our sins are forgiven; our
indwelling sin, or evil nature, is condemned and set aside. It has no
existence _before God_. It is in us, but He sees us only in a risen
Christ; and we are called to _reckon_ ourselves dead, and by the power
of God's Spirit, to mortify our members, to deny and subdue the evil
nature which still dwells in us, and will dwell until we are passed
out of our present condition, and find our place forever with the
Lord.
This makes all so blessedly clear. We have already dwelt upon the
fact, that "they that are in the flesh cannot please God;" but the
believer is not in the flesh, though the flesh be in him. He is in the
_body_, and on the _earth_, as to the fact of his existence; but he is
neither in the _flesh_, nor of the _world_, as to the ground or
principle of his standing. "Ye," says the Holy Ghost, "are not in the
flesh, but in the Spirit" (Rom. viii.). "They," says our blessed Lord,
"are not of the world, even as I am not of the world" (John xvii.).
What a sweet relief to a heart bowed down under a sense of indwelling
sin, and not knowing what to do with it! What solid peace and comfort
flow into the soul when I see God condemning my sin in the cross, and
justifying me in a risen Christ! Where are my _sins_? Blotted out.
Where is my _sin_? Condemned and set aside. Where am I? Justified and
accepted in a risen Christ. I am brought to God without a single cloud
or misgiving. I am not afraid of my Justifier. I confide in Him, love
Him, and adore Him. I joy in God, and rejoice in hope of His glory.
Thus, then, we have, in some measure, cleared the way for the believer
to approach the subject of the judgment-seat of Christ, as set forth
in ver. 10 of our chapter, which we shall here quote at length, in
order that the reader may have the subject fully before him in the
veritable language of inspiration. "For we must all appear (or rather,
be manifested) before the judgment-seat of Christ; that every one may
receive the things done in his body, according to that he hath done,
whether it be good or bad."
Now there is, in reality, no difficulty or ground of perplexity here.
All we need is to look at the matter from a divine standpoint, and
with a simple mind, in order to see it clearly. This is true in
reference to every subject treated of in the word of God, and
specially so as to the point now before us. We have no doubt whatever
that the real secret of the difficulty felt by so many in respect to
the question of the judgment-seat of Christ is self-occupation. Hence
it is we so often hear such questions as the following, "Can it be
possible that all our sins, all our failures, all our infirmities, all
our naughty and foolish ways, shall be published, in the presence of
assembled myriads, before the judgment-seat of Christ?"
Well, then, in the first place, we have to remark that Scripture says
nothing of the kind. The passage before us, which contains the great,
broad statement of the truth on this weighty subject, simply declares
that "we must all be manifested before the judgment-seat of Christ."
But how shall we be manifested? Assuredly, _as we are_. But how is
that? As God's workmanship--as perfectly righteous, and perfectly
holy, and perfectly accepted in the Person of that very One who shall
sit on the judgment-seat, and who Himself bore in His own body on the
tree all the judgment due to us, and made a full end of the entire
system in which we stood. All that which, as sinners, we had to meet,
Christ met in our stead. Our _sins_ He bore; our _sin_ He was
condemned for. He stood in our stead and answered all responsibilities
which rested upon us as men alive in the flesh, as members of the
first man, as standing on the old creation-ground. The Judge Himself
is our righteousness. We are in Him. All that we are and all that we
have, we owe it to Him and to His perfect work. If we, as sinners, had
to meet Christ as a Judge, escape were utterly impossible; but,
inasmuch as He is our righteousness, condemnation is utterly
impossible. In short, the matter is reversed. The atoning death and
triumphant resurrection of our Divine Substitute have completely
changed everything, so that the effect of the judgment-seat of Christ
will be to make manifest that there is not, and cannot be, a single
stain or spot on that workmanship of God which the saint is declared
to be.
But, then, let us ask, Whence this dread of having all our naughtiness
exposed at the judgment-seat of Christ? Does not He know all about us?
Are we more afraid of being manifested to the gaze of men and angels
than to the gaze of our blessed and adorable Lord? If we are
manifested to Him, what matters it to whom beside we are known? How
far are Peter and David and many others affected by the fact that
untold millions have read the record of their sins, and that the
record thereof has been stereotyped on the page of inspiration? Will
it prevent their sweeping the strings of the golden harp, or casting
their crowns before the feet of Him whose precious blood has
obliterated for ever all their sins, and brought them, without spot,
into the full blaze of the throne of God? Assuredly not. Why then need
any be troubled by the thought of their being thoroughly manifested
before the judgment-seat of Christ? Will not the Judge of all the
earth do right? May we not safely leave all in the hands of Him who
has loved us and washed us in His own blood? Cannot we trust ourselves
implicitly to the One who loved us with such a love? Will He expose
us? Will He--can He, do aught inconsistent with the love that led Him
to give His precious life for us? Will the Head expose the body, or
any member thereof? Will the Bridegroom expose the bride? Yes, He
will, in one sense. But how? He will publicly set forth, in view of
all created intelligences, that there is not a speck or a flaw, a spot
or wrinkle, or any such thing, to be seen upon that Church which He
loved with a love that many waters could not quench.
Ah! Christian reader, dost thou not see how that nearness to the heart
of Christ, as well as the knowledge of His perfect work, would
completely roll away the mists which enwrap the subject of the
judgment-seat? If thou art washed from thy sins in the blood of Jesus,
and loved by God as Jesus is loved, what reason hast thou to fear that
judgment-seat, or to shrink from the thought of being manifested
before it? None whatever. Nothing can possibly come up there to alter
thy standing, to touch thy relationship, to blot thy title, or cloud
thy prospect. Indeed we are fully persuaded that the light of _the
judgment-seat_ will chase away many of the clouds that have obscured
_the mercy-seat_. Many, when they come to stand before that
judgment-seat, will wonder why they ever feared it for themselves.
They will see their mistake and adore the grace that has been so much
better than all their legal fears. Many who have hardly ever been able
to read their title here, will read it there, and rejoice and
wonder--they will love and worship. They will then see, in broad
daylight, what poor, feeble, shallow, unworthy thoughts they had once
entertained of the love of Christ, and of the true character of His
work. They will perceive how sadly prone they ever were to measure
Him by themselves, and to think and feel as if His thoughts and ways
were like their own. All this will be seen in the light of that day,
and then the burst of praise--the rapturous hallelujah--will come
forth from many a heart that, when down here, had been robbed of its
peace and joy by legal and unworthy thoughts of God and His Christ.
But, while it is divinely true that nothing can come out before the
judgment-seat of Christ to disturb, in any way, the standing or
relationship of the very feeblest member of the body of Christ, or of
any member of the family of God, yet is the thought of that judgment
most solemn and weighty. Yes, truly, and none will more feel its
weight and solemnity than those who can look forward to it with
perfect calmness. And be it well remembered, that there are two things
indispensably needful in order to enjoy this calmness of spirit.
First, we must have a title without a blot; and, secondly, our moral
and practical state must be sound. No amount of mere evangelical
clearness as to our title will avail unless we are walking in moral
integrity before God. It will not do for a man to _say_ that he is not
afraid of the judgment-seat of Christ because Christ died for him,
while, at the same time, he is walking in a loose, careless,
self-indulgent way. This is a most dreadful delusion. It is alarming
in the extreme to find persons drawing a plea from evangelical
clearness to shrink the holy responsibility resting upon them as the
servants of Christ. Are we to speak idle words because we know we
shall never come into judgment? The bare thought is horrible; and yet
we may shrink from such a thing when clothed in plain language before
us, while, at the same time, we allow ourselves to be drawn, through a
false application of the doctrines of grace, into most culpable laxity
and carelessness as to the claims of holiness.
All this must be sedulously avoided. The grace that has delivered us
from judgment should exert a more powerful influence upon our ways
than the fear of that judgment. And not only so, but we must remember
that while we, _as sinners_, are delivered from judgment and wrath,
yet, _as servants_, we must give account of ourselves and our ways. It
is not a question of our being exposed here or there to men, angels,
or devils. No; "we must give account to God" (Rom. xiv. 11, 12). This
is far more serious, far more weighty, far more influential, than our
being exposed in the view of any creature. "Whatsoever ye do, do it
heartily, as _to the Lord_, and not unto men; knowing that of _the
Lord_ ye shall receive the reward of the inheritance; for ye serve
_the Lord_ Christ. But he that doeth wrong shall receive for the wrong
which he hath done: and there is no respect of persons" (Col. iii.
23-25).
This is most serious and salutary. It may be asked, "When shall we
have to give account to God? When shall we receive for the wrong?" We
are not told, because that is not the question. The grand object of
the Holy Ghost in the passages just quoted is to lead the conscience
into holy exercise in the presence of God and of the Lord Christ. This
is good and most needful in a day of easy profession, like the
present, when there is much said about grace, free salvation,
justification without works, our standing in Christ. Is it that we
want to weaken the sense of these things? Far be the thought. Yea, we
would, in every possible way, seek to lead souls into the divine
knowledge and enjoyment of those most precious privileges. But then we
must remember the adjusting power of _truth_. There are always two
sides to a question, and we find in the pages of the New Testament the
clearest and fullest statements of grace, lying side by side with the
most solemn and searching statements as to our responsibility. Do the
latter obscure the former? Assuredly not. Neither should the former
weaken the latter. Both should have their due place, and be allowed to
exert their moulding influence upon our character and ways.
Some professors seem to have a great dislike to the words "duty" and
"responsibility;" but we invariably find that those who have the
deepest sense of grace have also, and as a necessary consequence, the
truest sense of duty and responsibility. We know of no exception. A
heart that is duly influenced by divine grace is sure to welcome every
reference to the claims of holiness. It is only empty talkers about
grace and standing that raise an outcry about duty and responsibility.
God deals in moral realities. He is real with us, and He wants us to
be real with Him. He is real in His love, and real in His
faithfulness; and He would have us real in our dealings with Him, and
in our response to His holy claims. It is of little use to say "Lord,
Lord" if we live in the neglect of His commandments. It is the merest
sham to say "I go sir" if we do not go. God looks for obedience in His
children. "He is a rewarder of them that _diligently_ seek Him."
May we bear these things in mind, and remember that all must come out
before the judgment-seat of Christ. "We must all be manifested" there.
This is unmingled joy to a really upright mind. If we do not
unfeignedly rejoice at the thought of the judgment-seat of Christ,
there must be something wrong somewhere. Either we are not established
in grace, or we are walking in some false way. If we know that we are
justified and accepted before God in Christ, and if we are walking in
moral integrity, as in His presence, the thought of the judgment-seat
of Christ will not disturb our hearts. The apostle could say, "We are
made manifest to God; and I trust also are made manifest in your
consciences." Was Paul afraid of the judgment-seat? Not he. But why?
Because he knew that he was accepted, as to his person, in a risen
Christ; and, _as to his ways_, he "labored that whether present or
absent he might be acceptable to Him." Thus it was with this holy man
of God and devoted servant of Christ. "And herein do I exercise
myself, to have always a conscience void of offence toward God and
toward men" (Acts xxiv. 16). Paul knew that he was accepted _in_
Christ, and therefore he labored to be acceptable to Him in all his
ways.
These two things should never be separated, and they never will be in
any divinely taught mind or divinely regulated conscience. They will
be perfectly joined together, and, in holy harmony, exert their
formative power over the soul. It should be our aim to walk, even now,
in the light of the judgment-seat. This would prove a wholesome
regulator in many ways. It will not, in any wise, lead to legality of
spirit. Impossible. Shall we have any legality when we stand before
the judgment-seat of Christ? Assuredly not. Well, then, why should the
thought of that judgment-seat exert a legal influence now? In point of
fact, we feel assured there is, and can be, no greater joy to an
honest heart than to know that everything shall come clearly and fully
out, in the perfect light of that solemn day that is approaching. We
shall see all then as Christ sees it--judge of it as He judges. We
shall look back from amid the blaze of divine light shining from the
judgment-seat, and see our whole course in this world. We shall see
what blunders we have made--how badly we did this, that, and the other
work--mixed motives here--an under current there--a false object in
something else. All will be seen then in divine truth and light. Is it
a question of our being exposed to the whole universe? By no means.
Should we be concerned, whether or no? Certainly not. Will it, can it,
touch our acceptance? Nay, we shall shine there in all the perfectness
of our risen and glorified Head. The Judge Himself is our
righteousness. We stand in Him. He is our all. What can touch us? We
shall appear there as the fruit of His perfect work. We shall even be
associated with Him in the judgment which He executes over the world.
Is not this enough to settle every question? No doubt. But still we
have to think of our individual walk and service. We have to look to
it that we bring no wood, hay, and stubble into the light of the
coming day, for as surely as we do we shall suffer loss, though we
ourselves shall be saved through the fire. We should seek to carry
ourselves now as those who are already in the light, and whose one
desire is to do what is well pleasing to our adorable Lord, not
because of the fear of judgment, but under "the vast constraining
influence" of His love. "The love of Christ constraineth us, because
we thus judge, that if one died for all, then were all dead: and that
He died for all, that they which live should not henceforth live unto
themselves, but unto Him who died for them and rose again." This is
the true motive-spring in all Christian service. It is not the fear of
judgment impelling, but the love of Christ constraining us; and we may
say, with fullest assurance, that never shall we have so deep a sense
of that love as when we stand before the judgment-seat of Christ.
"When this passing world is done,
When has sunk yon radiant sun,
When I stand with Christ on high,
Looking o'er life's history,
Then, Lord, shall I fully know,
Not till then, how much I owe."
There are many other points of interest and value in this marvellous
chapter; but we feel we must bring our paper to a conclusion; and,
most assuredly, we could not do this more suitably than by unfolding,
as God's Spirit may enable us, that theme which has been before us all
along, "The Ministry of Reconciliation," to which we shall now direct
the reader's attention as briefly as we can.
We may view it under three distinct heads; namely, first, the
_foundation_ on which this ministry rests; secondly, the _objects_
toward whom it is exercised; thirdly, the _features_ by which it is
characterized.
1. And first, then, as to the foundation on which the ministry of
reconciliation rests. This is set before us, in the closing verse of
our chapter.
"For He (God) hath made Him (Christ) to be sin for us, who knew no
sin; that we might be made the righteousness of God in Him."
We have here three parties, namely, God, Christ, and sin. This latter
is simply the expression of what we are by nature. There is in "_us_"
nought but "_sin_," from the crown of the head to the sole of the
foot, the whole man is sin. The principle of sin pervades the entire
system of fallen humanity. The root, trunk, branches, leaves, blossom,
fruit--all is sin. It is not only that we have committed sins; we are
actually _born_ in sin. True, we have, all of us, our characteristic
sins. We have not only, all of us, "gone astray," but "we have turned
every one to his own way." Each has pursued his own specific path of
evil and folly; and all this is the fruit of that thing called "sin."
The outward life of each is but a stream from the fountain--a branch
from the stem; that fountain is sin.
And what, let us ask, is sin? It is the acting of the will in
opposition to God. It is doing our own pleasure--doing what we like
ourselves. This is the root--this the source of sin. Let it take what
shape, or clothe itself in what forms it may; be it gross or be it
most refined in its actings, the great root-principle, the parent
stem, is self-will, and this is sin. There is no necessity for
entering into any detail; all we desire is that the reader should have
a clear and thorough sense of what sin is, and not only so, but that
he, by nature, is sinful. Where this great and solemn fact takes full
possession of the soul, by the power of the Holy Ghost, there can be
no settled rest until the soul is brought to lay hold on the truth set
forth in 2 Corinthians v. 21. The question of sin had to be disposed
of ere there could be so much as a single thought of reconciliation.
God could never be reconciled to sin. But fallen man was a sinner by
practice and sinful in nature. The very sources of his being were
corrupt and defiled, and God was holy, just, and true. He is of purer
eyes than to behold evil, and cannot look upon iniquity. Hence, then,
between God and sinful humanity there could be no such thing as
reconciliation. True it is--most blessedly true--that God is good, and
merciful, and gracious. But He is also holy; and holiness and sin
could never coalesce.
What was to be done? Hear the answer: "God hath made Christ to be
sin." But where? Reader, look well at this. Where was Christ made sin?
Was it in His birth? or in Jordan's flood? or in the garden of
Gethsemane? Nay; though, most assuredly, in that garden the shadows
were lengthening, the darkness was thickening, the gloom was
deepening. But where and when was the holy, spotless, precious Lamb of
God made sin? _On the cross, and only there!_ This is a grand cardinal
truth--a truth of vital importance--a truth which the enemy of God and
His Word is seeking to darken and set aside in every possible way. The
devil is seeking, in the most specious manner, to displace the cross.
He cares not how he compasses this end. He will make use of anything
and everything in order to detract from the glory of the Cross, that
great central truth of Christianity round which every other truth
circulates, and on which the whole fabric of divine revelation rests
as upon an eternal foundation.
"He hath made Him to be sin." Here lies the root of the whole matter.
Christ, on the cross, was made sin for us. He died, and was buried.
Sin was condemned. It met the just judgment of a holy God who could
not pass over a single jot or tittle of sin; nay, He poured out His
unmingled wrath upon it in the person of His Son, when that Son was
"made sin." It is a serious error to believe that Christ was bearing
the judgment of God during His lifetime, or that aught save the death
of Christ could meet the question of sin. He might have become
incarnate--He might have lived and labored on this earth--He might
have wrought His countless miracles--He might have healed, and
cleansed, and quickened--He might have prayed, and wept, and groaned;
but not any of these things, nor yet all of them put together, could
blot out a single stain of that dreadful thing "_sin_." God the Holy
Ghost declares that "without shedding of blood there is no remission"
(Heb. ix. 22).
Now, then, reader, if the holy life and labors of the Son of God--if
His prayers, tears, and groans could not put away sin; how do you
think that your life and labors, your prayers, tears, and groans, your
good works, rites, ordinances, and ceremonies could ever put away sin?
The fact is, that the life of our blessed Lord only proved man more
and more guilty. It laid the topstone upon the superstructure of his
guilt, and therefore left the question of sin wholly unsettled.
Nor was this all. Our blessed Lord Himself declares, over and over
again, the absolute and indispensable necessity of His death. "Except
a corn of wheat fall into the ground and _die_, it abideth _alone_;
but if it _die_, it bringeth forth much fruit" (John xii.). "Thus it
is written, and thus _it behoved_ (or was necessary for) Christ to
suffer" (Luke xxiv. 46). "How then shall the Scriptures be fulfilled
that thus it _must_ be" (Matt. xxvi.)? In a word, death was the only
pathway of life, the only basis of union, the only ground of
reconciliation. All who speak of incarnation as being the basis of our
union with Christ deny, in the plainest way, the whole range of truth
connected with a dead and risen Christ. Many may not see this; but
Satan sees it, and he sees too how it will work. He knows what he is
about, and surely the servants of Christ ought to know what is
involved in the error against which we are warning our readers.
The fact is, the enemy does not want souls to see that, in the death
of Christ, sentence was passed on fallen human nature and upon the
whole world. This was not the case in incarnation at all. An incarnate
Christ put man to the test--a dead Christ put man to death--a risen
Christ takes the believer into union with Himself. When Christ came in
the flesh, fallen man was still under probation. When Christ died on
the cross, fallen man was wholly condemned. When Christ rose from the
dead, He became the head of a new race, each member of which, being
quickened by the Holy Ghost, is viewed by God as united to Christ, in
life, righteousness, and favor--he is viewed as having been dead, as
having passed through judgment, and as being now as free from all
condemnation as Christ himself. "He hath made Him to be sin for us,
[He] who knew no sin, that we might be made the righteousness of God
in Him."
Now, it must be plain to the reader who bows to Scripture, that
incarnation did not, and could not accomplish all this. Incarnation
did not put away sin. Need we stop here to dwell upon the glories of
the mystery of incarnation? Will anyone imagine that we take away from
the value, or mar the integrity of that priceless fundamental truth,
because we deny that it puts away sin, or forms the basis of our union
with Christ? We trust not. That incarnation was essentially necessary
for the accomplishment of redemption is plain to all. Christ had to
become a man in order to die. "Without shedding of blood is no
remission." He had to give His flesh for the life of the world. But
this only goes to prove the absolute necessity of death. It was the
_giving_ of His flesh, not the _taking_ of it, that laid the
foundation of the whole fabric--life, pardon, peace, righteousness,
union, glory, all. Apart from death, there is, and could be,
absolutely nothing. Through death we have all.
But we cannot pursue this profound subject any further now. Enough has
been said to set forth its connection with our special thesis--the
ministry of reconciliation. When we read that "God hath made Christ to
be sin for us," we must see that this involved nothing less than the
death of the cross. "THOU," says that blessed One, "hast brought ME
into the dust of death" (Psa. xxii.). What an utterance! Who can
fathom the mighty depths of those words--"Thou"--"Me"--and "death"?
Who can enter into the question, "My God, My God, why hast _Thou_
forsaken _Me_?" Why did a holy, righteous God forsake His only
begotten, well-beloved, eternal Son? The answer contains the solid
basis of that marvelous ministry whereof we speak. Christ was made
sin. He not only bore our _sins_ in His own body on the tree; but He
was made sin. He stood charged with the entire question of sin. He was
"the Lamb of God bearing away the sin of the world." As such He
gloriously vindicated God, in the very scene where He had been
dishonored. He glorified Him in respect to that very thing by which
His majesty had been insulted. He took upon Himself the whole
matter--placed Himself beneath the weight of the whole burden, and
completely cleared the ground on which God could lay the foundations
of the new creation. He opened those eternal flood-gates which sin had
closed, so that the full tide of divine love might roll down along
that channel which His atoning death alone could furnish; so long as
sin was _in_ question, reconciliation must be _out_ of the question.
But Christ, being made sin died and put it away forever, and thus
changed entirely the ground and character of God's dealing with man
and with the world.
The death of Christ, then, as we have seen, is the alone basis of
reconciliation. That divine work has opened the way for placing men
and things in their right relationship to God, and on their proper
footing before Him. And this, be it remembered, is the true sense and
meaning of reconciliation. Sin had alienated "men" from God, and set
"_things_" entirely astray, and hence both men and things needed to be
reconciled, or set straight; and the death of Christ has cleared the
way for this.
It is well to see clearly the distinction between "atonement" and
"reconciliation." They are often confounded, through inattention to
Scripture; and the honored translators of our excellent Authorised
Version have not, with sufficient accuracy, marked this distinction.
For example, in Rom. v. 11, they have the word "atonement" where it
ought to be rendered "reconciliation" and in Heb. ii. 17, we have the
word "reconciliation" where it ought to be "atonement."
Nor is the distinction by any means unimportant. The word "atonement,"
or "propitiation," occurs, in some one or other of its forms, six
times in the Greek New Testament. (See carefully Luke xviii. 13; Rom.
iii. 25; Heb. ii. 17; ix. 5; 1 John ii. 2; iv. 10.) The word
"reconciliation" occurs, in one or other of its forms, thirteen times
in the New Testament. (See Rom. v. 10, 11; xi. 15; 1 Cor. vii. 11; 2
Cor. v. 18, 19, 20; Eph. ii. 16; Col. i. 20, 21.) If the reader will
take the trouble of examining and comparing these passages, he will
see that atonement and reconciliation are not the same thing, but that
the former is the foundation of the latter. Sin had made man an enemy
and thrown things into confusion; and in Col. i. 20, 21, we read,
"And, having made peace through the blood of his cross (here is the
foundation), by Him to reconcile all _things_ unto Himself; by Him, I
say, whether they be things in earth, or things in heaven. And _you_,
that were sometime alienated, and enemies in your mind by wicked
works, yet now _hath he reconciled_, in the body of His flesh,
_through death_, to present you holy, and unblamable, and unreprovable
in his sight." Here we have the death of Christ set forth as the
ground of the reconciliation of both men and things.[16]
[16] If the reader will turn, for a moment, to 1 Cor. vii. 11, he will
see the use of the word reconciliation. "But and if she depart, let
her remain unmarried, or be _reconciled_ to her husband." In classical
Greek the word is applied to the _changing_ money: the _exchanging_
one thing for another; _exchanging_ prisoners; the changing a person
from _enmity to friendship_. In short, everywhere the distinction is
maintained between "atonement," or "propitiation" and "reconciliation."
The former is ιλασμος, the latter, καταλλαγη.
Now this leads to another point of immense importance. We often hear
it said that "the death of Christ was necessary in order _to reconcile
God to man_." This is a pious mistake, arising from inattention to the
language of the Holy Ghost, and indeed to the plain meaning of the
word "reconcile." God never changed--never stepped out of His normal
and true position. He abideth faithful. There was, and could be, no
derangement, no confusion, no alienation, so far as He was concerned;
and hence there could be no need of reconciling Him to us. In fact, it
was exactly the contrary. Man had gone astray; he was the enemy, and
needed to be reconciled. But this was wholly impossible if _sin_ were
not righteously disposed of; and sin could only be disposed of by
_death_--even the death of One, who, as being a man, could die, and
being God, could impart all the dignity, value, and glory of His
divine Person to the atoning sacrifice which He offered.
Wherefore, then, as might be expected, Scripture never speaks of
reconciling God to man. There is no such expression to be found within
the covers of the New Testament. "God was in Christ reconciling the
world (in its broad aspect--men and things) unto himself, not imputing
their trespasses unto them." And again, "All things are of God, who
hath reconciled _us_ to Himself by Jesus Christ." In a word, it is
God, in His infinite mercy and grace, through the atoning death of
Christ, bringing us back to Himself, and placing us not merely in the
original place, or on the original footing, or in the original
relationship; but, as was due to the work of Christ, giving us back
far more than we had lost, and introducing us into the marvelous
relationship of sons, and setting us in His presence, in divine and
eternal righteousness, and in the infinite favor and acceptableness of
His own Son Jesus Christ our Lord.
Amazing grace! Stupendous and glorious plan! What a ministry! And yet
need we wonder when we think of the death of Christ as the foundation
of it all? When we remember that "Christ was made sin for us," it
seems but the necessary counterpart that "we should be made the
righteousness of God in Him." It would have been no adequate result of
such a work as Christ accomplished, to have brought men and things
back to the Adamic or old creation ground. This would never have
satisfied the heart of God in any way, whether as respects Christ's
glory or our blessing. It would not have furnished an answer to that
omnipotent appeal of John xvii.: "I have glorified Thee on the earth:
I have finished the work which Thou gavest Me to do. And _now_, O
Father, glorify Thou Me, with Thine own self, with the glory which I
had with Thee before the world was" (vers. 4, 5). Who can gauge the
depth and power of those accents as they fell upon the ear of the God
and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ?
But we must not enlarge, much as we should like to do so. Little
remains to be said as to the _objects_ of the ministry of
reconciliation, inasmuch as we have, in a measure, anticipated them by
speaking of "men and things," for these are, in very deed, the
objects, and they are included in that comprehensive word "world."
"God was in Christ, reconciling the world unto himself." We would
merely add here, that it is utterly impossible for any creature under
heaven to exclude himself from the range of this most precious
ministry. Before the reader can shut himself out from the application
of all this grace to himself, he must prove that he does not belong to
the world. This he cannot do, and hence he must see that God is
beseeching him to be reconciled.
But this leads us to look, for a moment, at the _features_ which
characterize this glorious ministry.
1. And first, let us mark God's attitude. He is beseeching sinners.
What a thought! It seems too much for the heart to conceive. Only
think, reader, of the Most High and Mighty God, the Creator of the
ends of the earth--the One who has power to destroy both soul and body
in hell--think of Him as beseeching and praying you to be friends with
Him! It is not a question of your praying to Him and His hearing you.
No: but the very reverse--He is praying you. And for what does He ask
you? Is it to do anything or to give anything? Nay; He simply asks you
to be friends with Him because He has befriended you at the cost of
His own Son. Think of this. He spared not His only begotten and
well-beloved Son, but bruised Him in your stead. He made Him to be sin
for you. He judged your sin in the person of His Son, on the cross, in
order that He might be able to reconcile you. And now He stretches
forth His arms and opens His heart to you, and prays you to be
reconciled--to be friends with Him. Surpassing grace! It really seems
to us as though human language can only tend to weaken and impoverish
this grand reality.
We would only further suggest that the force of ver. 20 is greatly
weakened by the word "you," which, as the reader will observe, ought
not to be inserted. It makes it appear as though the apostle were
beseeching the Corinthian saints to be reconciled, whereas he is only
setting forth the terms and the style adopted by all "ambassadors" for
Christ wherever they went through the wide world--the language in
which they were to address "every creature" under heaven. It is not,
"Do this or that"--"Give this or that." It was not command or
prohibition; but simply, "Be reconciled."
2. And then, what encouragement to the poor trembling heart that feels
the burden of sin and guilt to be assured that God will not impute,
will not reckon, one of his sins! This is another precious feature of
the ministry of reconciliation. "_Not_ imputing their trespasses unto
them." This must set the heart at rest. If God tells me that He will
not count one of my trespasses to me, because He has already counted
them to Jesus on the cross, this may well tranquilize my spirit and
emancipate my heart. If I believe that God means what He says, perfect
peace must be my portion. True, it is only by the Holy Ghost that I
can enter into the power of this glorious truth; but what the Holy
Ghost leads me to believe and rest in is, that God does not, and will
not, blessed be His name, impute a single sin to me, because He has
already imputed _all_ to Christ.
But this leads us to the third feature of the ministry of
reconciliation.
3. If God will not impute my trespasses to me then what will He
impute? Righteousness--even the righteousness of God. We cannot
attempt to unfold the nature and character of this righteousness. We
may do so on another occasion, if the Lord permit; but here we confine
ourselves to the statement contained in the passage before us, which
declares that God hath made Christ, who knew no sin, to be sin for us
who were all sin, that we might become the righteousness of God in
Him. Most glorious truth! Sin is made an end of, as regards the
believer. Christ lives as our subsisting righteousness, before God,
and we live in Him. There is not so much as one single entry to our
debit in the book of divine justice; but there is a risen and
glorified Christ to our credit. Nor is this all. Not only are our sins
gone, our guilt cancelled--our old self completely ignored--not only
are we made the righteousness of God in Jesus; but we are loved by God
as Jesus is loved--accepted in Him--one with Him in all that He is and
has, as a risen, victorious, ascended, and glorified Man at God's
right hand. Higher than this it is impossible to go.
And now we must close, and we do it reluctantly. We do it with a
certain painful consciousness of the feebleness and poverty of our
handling of this lofty and comprehensive theme. But all this we must
leave in the Master's hand. He knows all about the subject and the
treatment thereof--all about the reader and the writer of these
lines. To Him we commit all, while we make one solemn, closing appeal
to the unconverted, unawakened reader.
Dear friend, let us remind you that this glorious ministry will very
soon close. The acceptable year, the day of salvation, shall ere long
come to an end. The ambassadors shall soon be all called home and
their embassy be closed forever. The door shall soon be shut, and the
day of vengeance set in in terror and wrath upon a Christ-rejecting
world. Let us entreat of you to flee from the wrath to come. Remember
that the One who is now praying and beseeching you to be reconciled,
has uttered the following awful words, "Because I have called, and ye
refused; I have stretched out My hand, and no man regarded. But ye
have set at nought all My counsel, and would none of My reproof; I
also will laugh at your calamity; I will mock when your fear cometh"
(Prov. i. 24-26). May the reader escape the unutterable horrors of the
day of wrath and judgment!
C. H. M.
THE QUESTION OF QUESTIONS
Some call Him a Saviour, in word,
But mix their own works with His plan;
And hope He His help will afford,
When they have done all that they can:
If doings prove rather too light
(A little they own they may fail),
They purpose to make up full weight,
By casting His name in the scale.
Some style Him "the Pearl of great price,"
And say, He's the fountain of joys;
Yet feed upon folly and vice,
And cleave to the world and its toys:
Like Judas, the Saviour they kiss,
And while they salute Him, betray:
Oh! what will profession like this
Avail in His terrible day?
If asked what of Jesus _I_ think,
Though still my best thoughts are but poor,
I say, He's my meat and my drink,
My life and my strength and my store;
My Shepherd, my trust and my Friend,
My Saviour from sin and from thrall;
My Hope from beginning to end,
My Portion, my Lord and my All.
THE GREAT COMMISSION
"And He said unto them, These are the words which I spake
unto you while I was yet with you, that all things must be
fulfilled which were written in the law of Moses, and in the
Prophets, and in the Psalms, concerning Me. Then opened He
their understanding, that they might understand the
Scriptures, and said unto them, _Thus it is written_, and
thus it behoved Christ to suffer, and to rise from the dead
the third day; and that repentance and remission of sins
should be preached in His name among all nations, beginning
at Jerusalem. And ye are witnesses of these things. And,
behold, I send the promise of My Father unto you: but tarry
ye in the city of Jerusalem, until ye be endued with power
from on high" (Luke xxiv. 44-49).
This splendid passage of Holy Scripture sets before us the great
commission which the risen Lord entrusted to His apostles just as He
was about to ascend into the heavens, having gloriously accomplished
all His blessed work upon earth. It is truly a most wonderful
commission, and opens up a very wide field of truth, through which we
may range with much spiritual delight and profit. Whether we ponder
_the commission itself_, its _basis_, its _authority_, its _power_, or
its _sphere_, we shall find it all full of most precious instruction.
May the blessed Spirit guide our thoughts, while we meditate, first of
all, upon
THE COMMISSION ITSELF.
The apostles of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ were specially
charged to preach "repentance and remission of sins." Let us all
remember this. We are prone to forget it, to the serious damaging of
our preaching, and of the souls of our hearers. Some of us are apt to
overlook the first part of the commission, in our eagerness, it may
be, to get to the second. This is a most serious mistake. We may rest
assured that it is our truest wisdom to keep close to the veritable
terms in which our blessed Lord delivered His charge to His earliest
heralds. We cannot omit a single point, not to say a leading branch of
the commission, without serious loss in every way. Our Lord is
infinitely wiser and more gracious than we are, and we need not fear
to preach with all possible plainness what He told His apostles to
preach, namely, "repentance and remission of sins."
Now the question is, are we all careful to maintain this very
important connection? Do we give sufficient prominence to the first
part of the great commission? Do we preach "repentance?"
We are not now inquiring what repentance is; that we shall do, if God
permit. But, whatever it is, do we preach it? That our Lord commanded
His apostles to preach it is plain; and not only so, but He preached
it Himself, as we read it in Mark i. 14, 15: "Now after that John was
put in prison, Jesus came into Galilee, preaching the gospel of the
kingdom of God, and saying, The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of
God is at hand; repent ye and believe the gospel."
Let us carefully note this record. Let all preachers note it. Our
divine Master called upon sinners to repent and believe the gospel.
Some would have us to believe that it is a mistake to call upon
persons dead in trespasses and sins to do anything. "How," it is
argued, "can those who are dead repent? They are incapable of any
spiritual movement. They must first get the power ere they can either
repent or believe."
What is our reply to all this? A very simple one indeed--Our Lord
knows better than all the theologians in the world what ought to be
preached. He knows all about man's condition--his guilt, his misery,
his spiritual death, his utter helplessness, his total inability to
think a single right thought, to utter a single right word, to do a
single right act; and yet He called upon men to repent. This is quite
enough for us. It is no part of our business to seek to reconcile
seeming differences. It may seem to us difficult to reconcile man's
utter powerlessness with his responsibility; but "God is His own
interpreter, and He will make it plain." It is our happy privilege,
and our bounden duty, to believe what He says, and do what He tells
us. This is true wisdom, and it yields solid peace.
Our Lord preached repentance, and He commanded His apostles to preach
it; and they did so constantly. Harken to Peter on the day of
Pentecost. "Then Peter said unto them, Repent, and be baptized, every
one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ, for the remission of sins,
and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost." And again, "Repent
ye, therefore, and be converted, that your sins may be blotted out
when the times of refreshing shall come from the presence of the
Lord." Harken to Paul also, as he stood on Mars' Hill, at Athens: "But
now _God commandeth all men everywhere_ to repent; because He hath
appointed a day in which He will judge the world in righteousness, by
that Man whom He hath ordained; whereof He hath given assurance unto
all men, in that He hath raised Him from the dead." So also, in his
touching address to the elders of Ephesus, he says, "I kept back
nothing that was profitable, (blessed servant!) but have showed you,
and have taught you publicly, and from house to house, testifying both
to the Jews, and also the Greeks, _repentance toward God_, and faith
toward our Lord Jesus Christ." And again, in his address to king
Agrippa, he says, "Whereupon, O king Agrippa, I was not disobedient
unto the heavenly vision, but showed first unto them of Damascus, and
at Jerusalem, and throughout all the coasts of Judea, and then to the
Gentiles, that _they should repent_, and turn to God, and _do works
meet for repentance_."
Now, in the face of this body of evidence--with the example of our
Lord and His apostles so fully and clearly before us--may we not very
lawfully inquire whether there is not a serious defect in much of our
modern preaching? Do we preach repentance as we ought? Do we assign
to it the place which it gets in the preaching of our Lord, and of His
early heralds? It is vanity and folly, or worse, to talk about its
being legal to preach repentance, to say that it tarnishes the lustre
of the gospel of the grace of God to call upon men dead in trespasses
and sins to repent, and do works meet for repentance. Was Paul legal
in his preaching? Did he not preach a clear, full, rich, and divine
gospel? Have we got in advance of Paul? Do we preach a clearer gospel
than he? How utterly preposterous the notion! Well, but he preached
repentance. He told his hearers that "God now commandeth all men
everywhere to repent." Does this mar the gospel of the grace of God?
Does it detract from its heavenly fulness and freeness? As well might
you tell a farmer that it lowered the quality of his grain to plough
the fallow ground before sowing.
No doubt it is of the very last possible importance to preach the
gospel of the grace of God, or, if you please, the gospel of the
glory, in all its fulness, clearness, and power. We are to preach the
unsearchable riches of Christ--to declare the whole counsel of God, to
present the righteousness of God and His salvation, without limit,
condition, or hindrance of any kind--to publish the good news to every
creature under heaven.
We should, in the very strongest possible manner, insist upon this.
But at the same time we must jealously keep to the terms of "the great
commission." We cannot depart the breadth of a hair from these
without serious damage to our testimony, and to the souls of our
hearers. If we fail to preach repentance, we are "keeping back"
something "profitable." What should we say to a husbandman, if we saw
him scattering his precious grain along the beaten highway? We should
justly pronounce him out of his mind. The ploughshare must do its
work. The fallow ground must be broken up ere the seed is sown; and we
may rest assured that, as in the kingdom of nature, so in the kingdom
of grace, the ploughing must precede the sowing. The ground must be
duly prepared for the seed, else the operation will prove altogether
defective. Let the gospel be preached as God has given it to us in His
Word. Let it not be shorn of one of its moral glories; let it flow
forth as it comes from the deep fountain of the heart of God, through
the channel of Christ's finished work, on the authority of the Holy
Ghost. All this is not only most fully admitted but peremptorily
insisted upon; but at the same time we must never forget that our Lord
and Master called upon men to "repent and believe the gospel;" that He
strictly enjoined it upon His holy apostles to preach repentance; and
that the blessed apostle Paul, the chief of apostles, the profoundest
teacher the Church has ever known, did preach repentance, calling upon
men everywhere to repent and do works meet for repentance.
And here it may be well for us to inquire what this repentance is
which occupies such a prominent place in "the great commission," and
in the preaching of our Lord and of His apostles. If it be--as it
most surely is--an abiding and universal necessity for man--if God
commands all men everywhere to repent--if repentance is inseparably
linked with remission of sins--how needful it is that we should seek
to understand its true nature!
What, then, is repentance? May the Spirit Himself instruct us by the
word of God! He alone can. We are all liable to err--some of us have
erred--in our thoughts on this most weighty subject. We are in danger,
while seeking to avoid error on one side, of falling into error on the
other. We are poor, feeble, ignorant, erring creatures, whose only
security is in our being kept continually at the feet of our blessed
Lord Jesus Christ. He alone can teach us what repentance is, as well
as what it is not. We feel most fully assured that the enemy of souls
and of the truth has succeeded in giving repentance a false place in
the creeds, and confessions, and public teachings of Christendom; and
the conviction of this makes it all the more needful for us to keep
close to the living teachings of Holy Scripture.
We are not aware of any formal definition of the subject furnished by
the Holy Ghost. He does not tell us in so many words what repentance
is; but the more we study the Word in reference to the great question,
the more deeply we feel convinced that true repentance involves the
solemn judgment of ourselves, our condition, and our ways, in the
presence of God; and, further, that this judgment is not a transient
feeling, but an abiding condition--not a certain exercise to be gone
through as a sort of title to the remission of sins, but the deep and
settled habit of the soul, giving seriousness, gravity, tenderness,
brokenness, and profound humility, which shall overlap, underlie, and
characterize our entire course.
We seriously question if this aspect of the subject is sufficiently
understood. Let not the reader mistake us. We do not mean for a moment
to teach that the soul should be always bowed down under the sense of
unforgiven sin. Far be the thought! But we greatly fear that some of
us, in running away from _legality_ on the question of repentance,
have fallen into _levity_. This is a serious error. We may depend upon
it that levity is no remedy for legality: were it proposed as such, we
should have no hesitation in pronouncing the remedy much worse than
the disease. Thank God we have His own sovereign remedy for levity, on
the one hand, and legality on the other. "_Truth_,"--insisting upon
"repentance," is the remedy for the former. "_Grace_"--publishing
"remission of sins," is the remedy for the latter. And we cannot but
believe that the more profound our repentance, the fuller will be our
enjoyment of remission.
We are inclined to judge that there is a sad lack of depth and
seriousness in much of our modern preaching. In our anxiety to make
the gospel simple, and salvation easy, we fail to press on the
consciences of our hearers the holy claims of truth. If a preacher
now-a-days were to call upon his hearers to "repent and turn to God,
and to do works meet for repentance," he would, in certain circles, be
pronounced legal, ignorant, below the mark, and such like. And yet
this was precisely what the blessed apostle Paul did, as he himself
tells us. Will any of our modern evangelists have the temerity to say
that Paul was a legal or an ignorant preacher? We trust not. Paul
carried with him the full, clear, precious gospel of God--the gospel
of the grace, and the gospel of the glory. He preached the kingdom of
God--He unfolded the glorious mystery of the Church--yea, that mystery
was specially committed to him.
But let all preachers remember that Paul preached repentance. He
called upon sinners to judge themselves--to repent in dust and ashes,
as was meet and right they should. He himself had learnt the true
meaning of repentance. He had not only judged himself once in a way,
but he _lived_ in the spirit of self-judgment. It was the habit of his
soul, the attitude of his heart, and it gave a depth, solidity,
seriousness and solemnity to his preaching of which we modern
preachers know but little. We do not believe that Paul's repentance
ended with the three days and three nights of blindness after his
conversion. He was a self-judged man all his life long. Did this
hinder his enjoyment of the grace of God or of the preciousness of
Christ? Nay, it gave depth and intensity to his enjoyment.
All this, we feel persuaded, demands our most serious consideration.
We greatly dread the light, airy, superficial style of much of our
modern preaching. It sometimes seems to us as if the gospel were
brought into utter contempt and the sinner led to suppose that he is
really conferring a very great favor upon God in accepting salvation
at His hands. Now we most solemnly protest against this. It is
dishonoring to God, and lowering His gospel; and, as might be
expected, its moral effect on those who profess to be converted is
most deplorable. It superinduces levity, self-indulgence, worldliness,
vanity, and folly. Sin is not felt to be the dreadful thing it is in
the sight of God. Self is not judged. The world is not given up. The
gospel that is preached is what may be called "salvation made easy" to
the flesh--the most terrible thing we can possibly conceive--terrible
in its effect upon the soul--terrible in its results in the life.
God's sentence upon the flesh and the world gets no place in the
preaching to which we refer. People are offered a salvation which
leaves self and the world practically unjudged, and the consequence
is, those who profess to be converted by this gospel exhibit a
lightness and unsubduedness perfectly shocking to people of serious
piety.
Man must take his true place before God, and that is the place of
self-judgment, contrition of heart, real sorrow for sin, and true
confession. It is here the gospel meets him. The fulness of God ever
waits on an empty vessel, and a truly repentant soul is the empty
vessel into which all the fulness and grace of God can flow in saving
power. The Holy Ghost will make the sinner _feel_ and _own_ his real
condition. It is He alone who can do so: but He uses preaching to this
end. He brings the word of God to bear on man's conscience. The Word
is His hammer, wherewith He breaks the rock in pieces--His plowshare,
wherewith He breaks up the fallow ground. He makes the furrow, and
then casts in the incorruptible seed, to germinate and fructify to the
glory of God. True, the furrow, how deep soever it may be, can produce
no fruit. It is the seed, and not the furrow; but there must be the
furrow for all that.
It is not, need we say, that there is anything meritorious in the
sinner's repentance. To say so could only be regarded as audacious
falsehood. Repentance is not a good work whereby the sinner merits the
favor of God. All this view of the subject is utterly and fatally
false. True repentance is the discovery and hearty confession of our
utter ruin and guilt. It is the finding out that my whole life has
been a lie, and that I myself am a liar. This is serious work. There
is no flippancy or levity when a soul is brought to this. A penitent
soul in the presence of God is a solemn reality; and we cannot but
feel that were we more governed by the terms of "the great
commission," we should more solemnly, earnestly and constantly call
upon men "to repent and turn to God and do works meet for
repentance"--we should preach "repentance" as well as "remission of
sins."
PART II.
Since writing our last paper, we have been much interested in the way
in which repentance is presented in those inimitable parables in Luke
XV. There we learn, in a manner the most touching and convincing, not
only the abiding and universal necessity,--the moral fitness in every
case of true repentance,--but also that it is grateful to the heart of
God. Our Lord, in His marvelous reply to the scribes and Pharisees,
declares that "there is joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth."
And again, "Likewise, I say unto you, there is joy in the presence of
the angels of God over one sinner that repenteth."
Now this gives us a very elevated view of the subject. It is one thing
to see that repentance is binding upon man, and another and very much
higher thing to see that it is grateful to God. "Thus saith the high
and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, whose name is Holy: I dwell in
the high and holy place, with him also that is of a contrite and
humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble, and to revive the
heart of the contrite ones." A broken heart, a contrite spirit, a
repentant mind, gives joy to God.