place of skulls, where death holds his carnival in companionship with
worms, and hell laughs in the face of heaven. Dark storms are gathering
there—convolving clouds, charged with no common wrath. Terrors set
themselves in battle-array before the Son of God; and tempests burst upon
him, which might sweep all mankind in a moment to eternal ruin. Hark!
hear ye not the subterranean thunder? Feel ye not the tremor of the
mountain? It is the shock of Satan’s artillery, playing upon the Captain
of our salvation. It is the explosion of the magazine of vengeance. Lo,
the earth is quaking, the rocks are rending, the graves are opening, the
dead are rising, and all nature stands aghast at the conflict of divine
mercy with the powers of darkness. One dread convulsion more, one cry of
desperate agony, and Jesus dies—an arrow has entered into his heart. Now
leap the lions, roaring, upon their prey; and the bulls of Bashan are
bellowing; and the dogs of perdition are barking; and the unicorns toss
their horns on high; and the devil, dancing with exultant joy, clanks his
iron chains, and thrusts up his fettered hands in defiance toward the
face of Jehovah!
Go a little farther upon the mountain, and you come to “a new tomb hewn
out of the rock.” There lies a dead body. It is the body of Jesus. His
disciples have laid it down in sorrow, and returned weeping to the city.
Mary’s heart is broken, Peter’s zeal is quenched in tears, and John would
fain lie down and die in his Master’s grave. The sepulchre is closed up
and sealed, and a Roman sentry placed at its entrance. On the morning of
the third day, while it is yet dark, two or three women come to anoint
the body. They are debating about the great stone at the mouth of the
cave. “Who shall roll it away?” says one of them. “Pity we did not
bring Peter or John with us.” But arriving, they find the stone already
rolled away, and one sitting upon it, whose countenance is like
lightning, and whose garments are white as the light. The steel-clad,
iron-hearted soldiers lie around him, like men slain in battle, having
swooned with terror. He speaks:—“Why seek ye the living among the dead?
He is not here; he is risen; he is gone forth from this cave
victoriously.”
It is even so; for there are the shroud, and the napkin, and the heavenly
watchers; and when he awoke, and cast off his grave-clothes, the
earthquake was felt in the city, and jarred the gates of hell. “The Hind
of the morning” is up earlier than any of his pursuers, “leaping upon the
mountains, and skipping upon the hills.” He is seen first with Mary at
the tomb; then with the disciples in Jerusalem; then with two of them on
the way to Emmaus; then going before his brethren into Galilee; and
finally, leaping from the top of Olivet to the hills of Paradise; fleeing
away to “the mountains of spices,” where he shall never more be hunted by
the black prince and his hounds.
Christ is perfect master of gravitation, and all the laws of nature are
obedient to his will. Once he walked upon the water, as if it were
marble beneath his feet; and now, as he stands blessing his people, the
glorious form so recently nailed to the cross, and still more recently
cold in the grave, begins to ascend like “the living creature” in
Ezekiel’s vision, “lifted up from the earth,” till nearly out of sight;
when “the chariots of God, even thousands of angels,” receive him, and
haste to the celestial city, waking the thrones of eternity with this
jubilant chorus—“Lift up your heads, O ye gates! and be ye lifted up, ye
everlasting doors! and the King of glory shall come in!”
Christ might have rode in a chariot of fire all the way from Bethlehem to
Calvary; but he preferred riding in a chariot of mercy, whose lining was
crimson, and whose ornament the malefactor’s cross. How rapidly rolled
his wheels over the hills and the plains of Palestine, gathering up
everywhere the children of affliction, and scattering blessings like the
beams of the morning! Now we find him in Cana of Galilee, turning water
into wine; then treading the waves of the sea, and hushing the roar of
the tempest; then delivering the demoniac of Gadara from the fury of a
legion of fiends; then healing the nobleman’s son at Capernaum; raising
the daughter of Jairus, and the young man of Nain; writing upon the grave
at Bethany—“I am the resurrection and the life;” curing the invalid at
the pool of Bethesda; feeding the five thousand in the wilderness;
preaching to the woman by Jacob’s well; acquitting the adulteress, and
shaming her accusers; and exercising everywhere, in all his travels, the
three offices of Physician, Prophet, and Saviour, as he drove on toward
the place of skulls.
Now we see the chariot surrounded with enemies—Herod, and Pilate, and
Caiaphas, and the Roman soldiers, and the populace of Jerusalem, and
thousands of Jews who have come up to keep the Passover, led on by Judas
and the devil. See how they rage and curse, as if they would tear him
from his chariot of mercy. But Jesus maintains his seat, and holds fast
the reins, and drives right on through the angry crowd, without shooting
an arrow, or lifting a spear upon his foes. For in that chariot the King
must ride to Calvary—Calvary must be consecrated to mercy for ever. He
sees the cross planted upon the brow of the hill, and hastens forward to
embrace it. No sacrifice shall be offered to Justice on this day, but
the one sacrifice which reconciles heaven and earth. None of those
children of Belial shall suffer to-day. The bribed witnesses, and
clamorous murderers, shall be spared—the smiters, the scourgers, the
spitters, the thorn-platters, the nail-drivers, the head-shakers for
Jesus pleads on their behalf—“Father, forgive them! they know not what
they do. They are ignorant of thy truth and grace. They are not aware
whom they are crucifying. O, spare them! Let Death know that he shall
have enough to do with me to-day! Let him open all his batteries upon
me! My bosom is bare to the stroke! I will gather all the lances of
hell in my heart!”
Still the chariot rushes on, and “fiery darts” are falling thick and
fast, like a shower of meteors, on Messiah’s head, till he is covered
with wounds, and the blood flows down his garments, and leaves a crimson
track behind him. As he passes, he casts at the dying malefactor a
glance of benignity, and throws him a passport into Paradise, written
with his own blood; stretches forth his scepter, and touches the
prison-door of death, and many of the prisoners come forth, and the
tyrant shall never regain his dominion over them; rides triumphant over
thrones and principalities, and crushes beneath his wheels the last enemy
himself, and leaves the memorial of his march engraven on the rocks of
Golgotha!
Christ is everywhere in the Scriptures spoken of as a blessing; and
whether we contemplate his advent, his ministry, his miracles, his agony,
his crucifixion, his interment, his resurrection, or his ascension, we
may truly say, “all his paths drop fatness.” All his travels were on the
road of mercy; and trees are growing up in his footsteps, whose fruit is
delicious food, and whose “leaves are for the healing of the nations.”
He walketh upon the south winds, causing propitious gales to blow upon
the wilderness, till songs of joy awake in the solitary place, and the
desert blossoms as the rose.
If we will consider what the prophets wrote of Messiah, in connection
with the evangelical history, we shall be satisfied that none like him,
either before or since, ever entered our world, and departed from it.
Both God and man—at once the Father of eternity and the son of time—he
filled the universe, while he was imbodied upon earth; and ruled the
celestial principalities and powers, while he wandered—a persecuted
stranger—in Judea. “No man,” saith he, “hath ascended up to heaven, but
he that came down from heaven—even the Son of man, who is in heaven.”
Heaven was no strange place to Jesus. He talks of the mansions in his
Father’s house as familiarly as one of the royal family would talk of
Windsor Castle, where he was born; and saith to his disciples—“I go to
prepare a place for you; that where I am, there ye may be also.” The
glory into which he entered was his own glory—the glory which he had with
the Father before the world was. He had an original and supreme right to
the celestial mansions; and he acquired a new and additional claim by his
office as mediator. Having suffered for our sins, he “ought to enter
into his glory.” He ought, because he is “God, blessed for ever”—he
ought, because he is the representative of his redeemed people. He has
taken possession of the kingdom in our behalf, and left on record for our
encouragement this cheering promise—“To him that overcometh will I grant
to sit with me in my throne; even as I also have overcome, and am set
down with my Father in his throne.”
The departure of God from Eden, and the departure of Christ from the
earth, were two of the sublimest events that ever occurred, and fraught
with immense consequences to our race. When Jehovah went out from Eden,
he left a curse upon the place for man’s sake, and drove out man before
him into an accursed earth. But when Jesus ascended from Olivet, he
lifted the curse with him, and left a blessing behind him—sowed the world
with the seed of eternal blessings; “and instead of the thorn shall come
up the fir-tree; and instead of the briar shall come up the myrtle-tree;
and it shall be to the Lord for a name, and an everlasting sign, that
shall not be cut off.” He ascended to intercede for sinners, and reopen
paradise to his people; and when he shall come the second time, according
to the promise, with all his holy angels, then shall we be “caught up to
meet the Lord in the air, and so shall we ever be with the Lord.”
“The Lord is gone up with a shout,” and has taken our redeemed nature
with him. He is the head of the church, and her representative at the
right hand of the Father. “He hath ascended on high; he hath led
captivity captive; he hath received gifts for men; yea, for the
rebellious also, that God may dwell among them.” “Him hath God exalted,
with his own right hand, to be a Prince and a Saviour, to give repentance
to Israel, and remission of sins.” This is the Father’s recognition of
his “Beloved Son,” and significant acceptance of his sacrifice.
“Wherefore God also hath highly exalted him, and given him a name which
is above every name; that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of
things in heaven, and things in the earth, and things under the earth;
and that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the
glory of God the Father.”
The evidence of our Lord’s ascension is ample. He ascended in the
presence of many witnesses, who stood gazing after him till a cloud
received him out of their sight. And while they looked steadfastly
toward heaven, two angels appeared to them, and talked with them of what
they had seen. Soon afterward, on the day of Pentecost, he fulfilled, in
a remarkable manner, the promise which he had made to his people:—“If I
go away, I will send you another Comforter, who shall abide with you for
ever.” Stephen, the first of his disciples that glorified the Master by
martyrdom, testified to his murderers—“Lo, I see the heavens opened, and
the Son of Man standing on the right hand of God!” And John, “the
beloved disciple,” while an exile “in Patmos, for the word of God, and
the testimony of Jesus Christ,” beheld him “in the midst of the throne,
as a Lamb that had been slain!” These are the evidences that our Lord is
in heaven; these are our consolations in the house of our pilgrimage.
The apostle speaks of the _necessity_ of this event:—“Whom the heaven
_must_ receive.”
Divine necessity is a golden chain, reaching from eternity to eternity,
and encircling all the events of time. It consists of many links, all
hanging upon each other; and not one of them can be broken, without
destroying the support of the whole. The first link is in God, “before
the world was;” and the last is in heaven, when the world shall be no
more. Christ is its Alpha and Omega, and Christ constitutes all its
intervenient links. Christ in the bosom of the Father, receiving the
promise of eternal life, before the foundation of the world, is the
beginning; Christ in his sacrificial blood, atoning for our sins, and
pardoning and sanctifying all them that believe, is the middle; and
Christ in heaven, pleading the merit of his vicarious sufferings, making
intercession for the transgressors, drawing all men unto himself,
presenting the prayers of his people, and preparing their mansions, is
the end.
There is a necessity in all that Christ has done as our Mediator, in all
that he is doing on our behalf, and all that he has engaged to do—the
necessity of Divine love manifested, of Divine mercy exercised, of Divine
purposes accomplished, of Divine covenants fulfilled, of Divine
faithfulness maintained, of Divine justice satisfied, of Divine holiness
vindicated, and of Divine power displayed, Christ felt this necessity
while he tabernacled among us, often declared it to his disciples, and
acknowledged it to the Father in the agony of the garden.
Behold him wrestling in prayer, with strong crying and tears:—“Father,
save me from this hour! If it be possible, let this cup pass from me!”
Now the Father reads to him his covenant engagement, which he signed and
sealed with his own hand before the foundation of the world. The
glorious Sufferer replies:—“Thy will be done! For this cause came I unto
this hour. I will drink the cup which thou hast mingled, and not a dreg
of any of its ingredients shall be left for my people. I will pass
through the approaching dreadful night, under the hidings of thy
countenance, bearing away the curse from my beloved. Henceforth,
repentance is hidden from mine eyes!” Now, on his knees, he reads the
covenant engagements of the Father, and adds:—“I have glorified thee on
the earth. I have finished the work which thou gavest me to do. Now
glorify thou me, according to thy promise, with thine own self, with the
glory which I had with thee before the world was. Father, I will also
that they whom thou hast given me, be with me where I am, that they may
behold my glory. Thine they were, and thou hast given them to me, on
condition of my pouring out my soul unto death. Thou hast promised them,
through my righteousness and meritorious sacrifice, the kingdom of
heaven, which I now claim on their behalf. Father, glorify my people,
with him whom thou lovedst before the foundation of the world!”
The intercession of Christ for his saints, begun on earth, is continued
in heaven. This is our confidence and joy in our journeyings through the
wilderness. We know that our Joshua has gone over into the land of our
inheritance, where he is preparing a place of habitation for Israel, for
it is his will that all whom he has redeemed should be with him for ever!
The text speaks of the period when the great purposes of our Lord’s
ascension shall be fully accomplished:—“until the times of restitution of
all things.”
The period here mentioned is “the dispensation of the fulness of time,”
when “the fulness of the gentiles shall come in,” and “the dispersed of
Judah” shall be restored, and Christ shall “gather together in himself
all things in heaven and in earth,” overthrow his enemies, establish his
everlasting kingdom, deliver the groaning creation from its bondage,
glorify his people with himself, imprison the devil and his angels in the
bottomless pit, and punish with destruction from his presence them that
obey not the gospel.
To this glorious consummation, the great travail of redemption, and all
the events of time, are only preparatory. It was promised in Eden, and
the promise was renewed and enlarged to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob.
It was described in gorgeous oriental imagery by Isaiah, and “the sweet
psalmist of Israel;” and “spoken of by all the prophets, since the world
began.” Christ came into the world to prepare the way for his future
triumph—to lay on Calvary the “chief corner-stone” of a temple, which
shall be completed at the end of time, and endure through all eternity.
He began the great restitution. He redeemed his people with a price, and
gave them a pledge of redemption by power. He made an end of sin,
abolished the Levitical priesthood, and swallowed up all the types and
shadows in himself. He sent home the beasts, overthrew the altars, and
quenched the holy fire; and, upon the sanctifying altar of his own
divinity, offered his own sinless humanity, which was consumed by fire
from heaven. He removed the seat of government from Mount Zion in
Jerusalem, to Mount Zion above, where he sits—“a priest upon his
throne”—drawing heaven and earth together, and establishing “the covenant
of peace between them both.” Blessed be God! we can now go to Jesus, the
mediator; passing by millions of angels, and all the spirits of just men
made perfect; till we “come to the blood of sprinkling, which speaketh
better things than that of Abel.” And we look for that blessed day, when
“this gospel of the kingdom” shall be universally prevalent; “and all
shall know the Lord, from the least even to the greatest”—when there
shall be “a new heaven, and a new earth, wherein dwelleth
righteousness”—when both the political and the moral aspects of our world
shall be changed; and a happier state of things shall exist than has ever
been known before—when the pestilence, the famine, and the sword shall
cease to destroy; and “the saints of the Most High shall possess the
kingdom,” in “quietness and assurance for ever.” “Then cometh the end,”
when Emmanuel “shall destroy in this mountain the vail of the covering
cast over all people, and swallow up death in victory!”
But what will it avail you to hear of this glorious restitution, if you
are not partakers of its incipient benefits, and happily interested in
its consummation? Has it begun in your own hearts? Are you restored to
God in Christ? Have you a place in his house, and a name among his
people? Are your feet running the way of his commandments, and your
hands diligent in doing his work? If not, “it is high time to awake out
of sleep.” “Repent and believe the gospel!” “Let the wicked forsake his
way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts; and let him return unto the
Lord, who will have mercy upon him; and to our God, for he will
abundantly pardon!”
SERMON XV.
TRIBULATION CONQUERED.
“_These things have I spoken unto you_, _that in me ye might have
peace_. _In the world ye shall have tribulation_; _but be of good
cheer_; _I have overcome the world_.”—John xvi. 33.
THE last sayings of those we love are not soon forgotten. These words
form the conclusion of our Lord’s valedictory to his disciples. They did
not yet understand that the redemption of man was to be obtained by the
death of their Master. When Christ was put to death, he descended to the
lower parts of the earth, in order to raise up sinners; but their faith
could not follow him into the deep. Nicholas Pisces sunk into the sea to
raise a golden cup, but neither he nor the cup ever came up again. A man
clothed in glass went down to prepare for raising the Royal George; the
man came up, but the ship remains in the bottom. But our blessed
Redeemer, clothed in humanity, descended to the deeps of death, and
raised the church from the pit of perdition, and founded her upon a rock,
against which the gates of hell cannot prevail.
We would notice, _first_, the peace that is in Christ, in opposition to
the tribulation that is in the world; and _secondly_, the victory of
Christ over the world, as the source of comfort and joy to believers.
I. “These things have I spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace.
I know what you will have in the world—mountains of tribulation—nothing
but tribulation. I will put my peace in the other end of the scale.”
Peace in Christ is “the peace of God which passeth all understanding”—an
ocean sufficiently deep and large to swallow up millions of fiery
mountains. See the awakened sinner, overwhelmed with the terrors of God.
His inflexible justice and spotless holiness seem to him like a mountain
of flame, which he cannot approach without being consumed. But the Holy
Spirit shows him the reconciling blood of the cross. He sees the
crucified God-man rising from the grave, and ascending on high, “to be a
Prince and a Saviour, to give repentance and remission of sins.”
Instantly the terrible mountain sinks and is lost in the sea of his
Redeemer’s merit. His faith has conquered his fears. His burden of
guilt is gone. He is a new creature in Christ Jesus, and in Christ Jesus
there is no condemnation. The deluge of tribulation may swell and roar
around him, but he is securely enclosed in the ark.
A man in a trance saw himself locked up in a house of steel, through the
walls of which, as through walls of glass, he could see his enemies
assailing him with swords, spears, and bayonets; but his life was safe,
for his fortress was locked within. So is the Christian secure amid the
assaults of the world. His “life is hid with Christ in God.”
The psalmist prayed—“When my heart is overwhelmed within me, lead me to
the Rock that is higher than I.” Imagine a man seated on a lofty rock in
the midst of the sea, where he has every thing necessary for his support,
shelter, safety, and comfort. The billows heave and break beneath him,
and the hungry monsters of the deep wait to devour him; but he is on
high, above the rage of the former, and the reach of the latter. Such is
the security of faith.
But why need I mention the rock and the steel house? for the peace that
is in Christ is a tower ten thousand times stronger, and a refuge ten
thousand times safer. Behold the disciples of Jesus exposed to famine,
nakedness, peril, and sword—incarcerated in dungeons; thrown to wild
beasts; consumed in the fire; sawn asunder; cruelly mocked and scourged;
driven from friends and home, to wander among the mountains, and lodge in
dens and caves of the earth; being destitute, afflicted, tormented;
sorrowful, but always rejoicing; cast down, but not destroyed; an ocean
of peace within, which swallows up all their sufferings.
“Neither death,” with all its terrors; “nor life,” with all its
allurements; “nor things present,” with all their pleasure; “nor things
to come,” with all their promise; “nor height” of prosperity; “nor depth”
of adversity; “nor angels” of evil; “nor principalities” of darkness;
“shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ
Jesus.” “God is our refuge and strength; a very present help in trouble.
Therefore will not we fear, though the earth be removed, and though the
mountains be carried into the midst of the sea—though the waters thereof
roar and be troubled—though the mountains shake with the swelling
thereof.” This is the language of strong faith in the peace of Christ.
How is it with you amid such turmoil and commotion? Is all peaceful
within? Do you feel secure in the name of the Lord, as in a strong
fortress—as in a city well supplied and defended?
“There is a river, the streams whereof shall make glad the city of God,
the holy place of the tabernacles of the most high. God is in the midst
of her; she shall not be moved. God shall help her, and that right
early.” “Unto the upright, there ariseth light in the darkness.” The
bright and morning star, shining upon their pathway, cheers them in their
journey home to their Father’s house. And when they come to pass over
Jordan, the Sun of Righteousness shall have risen upon them, with healing
in his wings. Already they see the tops of the mountains of immortality,
gilded with his beams, beyond the valley of the shadow of death. Behold,
yonder, old Simeon hoisting his sails, and saying—“Lord, now lettest thou
thy servant depart in peace, according to thy word; for mine eyes have
seen thy salvation.” Such is the peace of Jesus, sealed to all them that
believe, by the blood of his cross.