(1.) In its manner of treating the principles of natural religion.
Our faith in the infinite benevolence of God is represented as
destitute of adequate support from the testimony of nature. It
requires, we are assured, the suppression of a mass of appearances,
that would scare it away in an instant, were it to venture into their
presence; and is a dream of sickly and effeminate minds, whose belief
is the inward growth of amiable sentimentality, rather than a genuine
production from God's own facts. The appeal to the order and
magnificence of creation, to the structures and relations of the
inorganic, the vegetable, the animal, the spiritual forms, that fill
the ascending ranks of this visible and conscious universe;--to the
arrangements which make it a blessing to be born, far more than a
suffering to die,--which enable us to extract the relish of life from
its toils, the affections of our nature from its sufferings, the
triumphs of goodness from its temptations;--to the seeming plan of
general progress, which elicits truth by the self-destruction of
error, and by the extinction of generations gives perpetual
rejuvenescence to the world;--this appeal, which is another name for
the scheme of natural religion, is dismissed with scorn; and sin and
sorrow and death are flung in defiance across our path,--barriers
which we must remove, ere we can reach the presence of a benignant
God. Come with us, it is said, and listen to the wail of the sick
infant; look into the dingy haunts where poverty moans its life away;
bend down your ear to the accursed hum that strays from the busy hives
of guilt; spy into the hold of the slave-ship; from the factory follow
the wasted child to the gin-shop first, and then to the cellar called
its home; or look even at your own tempted and sin-bound souls, and
your own perishing race, snatched off into the dark by handfuls
through the activity of a destroying God; and tell us, did our
benevolent Creator make a creature and a world like this? A Calvinist
who puts this question is playing with fire. But I answer the question
explicitly: All these things we have met steadily, and face to face;
in full view of them, we have taken up our faith in the goodness of
God; and in full view of them we will hold fast that faith. Nor is it
just or true to affirm, that our system hides these evils, or that our
practice refuses to grapple with them. And if you confess that these
ills of life would be too much for your natural piety, if you declare,
that these rugged foundations and tempestuous elements of Providence
would starve and crush your confidence in God, while ours strikes its
roots in the rock, and throws out its branches to brave the storm, are
you entitled to taunt us with a faith of puny growth? Meanwhile, we
willingly assent to the principle which this appeal to evil is
designed to establish; that, with much apparent order, there is some
apparent disorder in the phenomena of the world; that from the latter,
by itself, we should be unable to infer any goodness and benevolence
in God; and that, were not the former clearly the predominant result
of natural laws, the character of the Great Cause of all things would
be involved in agonizing gloom. The mass of physical and moral evil we
do not profess fully to explain; we think that in no system whatever
is there any approach to an explanation; and we are accustomed to
touch on that dread subject with the humility of filial trust, not
with the confidence of dogmatic elucidation.
Surely the fall of our first parents, I shall be reminded, gives the
requisite solution. The disaster which then befell the human race has
changed the primeval constitution of things; introduced mortality and
all the infirmities of which it is the result; introduced sin, and all
the seeds of vile affections which it compels us to inherit; introduced
also the penalties of sin, visible in part on this scene of life, and
developing themselves in another in anguish everlasting. Fresh from the
hand of his Creator, man was innocent, happy, and holy; and he it is,
not God, who has deformed the world with guilt and grief.
Now, _as a statement of fact_, all this may or may not be true. Of this
I say nothing. But who does not see that, _as an explanation_, it is
inconsistent with itself, partial in its application, and leaves matters
incomparably worse than it found them? It is inconsistent with itself;
for Adam, perfectly pure and holy as he is reputed to have been, gave
the only proof that could exist of his being neither, by succumbing to
the first temptation that came in his way; and though finding no
enjoyment but in the contemplation of God, gave himself up to the first
advances of the Devil. Never surely was a reputation for sanctity so
cheaply won. The canonizations of the Romish Calendar have been
curiously bestowed on beings sufficiently remote from just ideas of
excellence; but usually there is _something_ to be affirmed of them,
legendary or otherwise, which, _if true_, might justify a momentary
admiration. But our first parent was not laid even under this necessity,
to obtain a glory greater than canonization; he had simply to do
nothing, except to fall, in order to be esteemed the most perfectly holy
of created minds. Most partial, too, is this theory in its application;
for disease and hardship, and death unmerited as the infant's, afflict
the lower animal creation. Is this, too, the result of the fall? If so,
it is an _unredeemed_ effect; if not, it presses on the benevolence of
the Maker, and, by the physical analogies which connect man with the
inferior creatures, forces on us the impression, that his corporeal
sufferings have an original source not dissimilar from theirs. And
again, this explanation only serves to make matters worse than before.
For how puerile is it to suppose that men will rest satisfied with
tracing back their ills to Adam, and refrain from asking who was Adam's
cause! And then comes upon us at once the ancient dilemma about evil;
was it a mistake, or was it malignity, that created so poor a creature
as our progenitor, and staked on so precarious a will the blessedness of
a race and the well-being of a world? So far, this theory, falsely and
injuriously ascribed to Christianity, would leave us where we were: but
it carries us into deeper and gratuitous difficulties, of which natural
religion knows nothing, by appending eternal consequences to Adam's
transgression; a large portion of which, after the most sanguine
extension of the efficacy of the atonement, must remain unredeemed. So
that if, under the eye of naturalism, the world, with its generations
dropping into the grave, must appear (as we heard it recently
described[13]) like the populous precincts of some castle, whose
governor called his servants, after a brief indulgence of liberty and
peace, into a dark and inscrutable dungeon, never to return or be seen
again, the only new feature which this theory introduces into the
prospect is this: that the interior of that cavernous prison-house is
disclosed; and while a few of the departed are seen to have emerged into
a fairer light, and to be traversing greener fields, and sharing a more
blessed liberty than they knew before, the vast multitude are discerned
in the gripe of everlasting chains and the twist of unimaginable
torture. And all this infliction is a penal consequence of a first
ancestor's transgression! Singular spectacle to be offered in
vindication of the character of God!
We are warned, however, not to start back from this representation, or
to indulge in any rash expression at the view which it gives of the
justice of the Most High; for that, beyond all doubt, parallel instances
occur in the operations of nature; and that, if the system deduced from
Scripture accords with that which is in action in the creation, there
arises a strong presumption that both are from the same Author. The
arrangement which is the prime subject of objection in the foregoing
theory, viz. the vicarious transmission of consequences from acts of
vice and virtue, is said to be familiar to our observation as a _fact_;
and ought, therefore, to present no difficulties in the way of the
admission of a _doctrine_. Is it not obvious, for example, that the
guilt of a parent may entail disease and premature death on his child,
or even remoter descendants? And if it be consistent with the Divine
perfections that the innocent should suffer for others' sins at the
distance of one generation, why not at the distance of a thousand? The
guiltless victim is not more completely severed from identity with Adam,
than he is from identity with his own father. My reply is brief: I admit
both the fact and the analogy; but the fact is of the exceptional kind,
from which, by itself, I could not infer the justice or the benevolence
of the Creator; and which, were it of large and prevalent amount, I
could not even reconcile with these perfections. If then you take it
out of the list of exceptions and difficulties, and erect it into a
cardinal rule, if you interpret by it the whole invisible portion of
God's government, you turn the scale at once against the character of
the Supreme, and plant creation under a tyrant's sway. And this is the
fatal principle pervading all analogical arguments in defence of
Trinitarian Christianity. No resemblances to the system can be found in
the universe, except in those anomalies and seeming deformities which
perplex the student of Providence, and which would undermine his faith,
were they not lost in the vast spectacle of beauty and of good. These
disorders are selected and spread out to view, as specimens of the
Divine government of nature; the mysteries and horrors which offend us
in the popular theology are extended by their side; the comparison is
made, point by point, till the similitude is undeniably made out; and
when the argument is closed it amounts to this: Do you doubt whether God
could break men's limbs? You mistake his strength of character; only see
how he puts out their eyes! What kind of impression this reasoning may
have, seems to me doubtful even to agony. Both Trinitarian theology and
nature, it is triumphantly urged, must proceed from the same Author; ay,
but what sort of author is that? You have led me, in your quest after
analogies, through the great infirmary of God's creation; and so haunted
am I by the sights and sounds of the lazar-house, that scarce can I
believe in anything but pestilence; so sick of soul have I become, that
the mountain breeze has lost its scent of health; and you say, it is all
the same in the other world, and wherever the same rule extends: then I
know my fate, that in this universe Justice has no throne. And thus, my
friends, it comes to pass, that these reasoners often gain indeed their
victory; but it is known only to the Searcher of Hearts, whether it is a
victory against natural religion, or in favor of revealed. For this
reason I consider the "Analogy" of Bishop Butler (one of the profoundest
of thinkers, and on purely moral subjects one of the justest too) as
containing, with a design directly contrary, the most terrible
persuasives to Atheism that have ever been produced. The essential error
consists in selecting the difficulties,--which are the rare, exceptional
phenomena of nature,--as the basis of analogy and argument. In the
comprehensive and generous study of Providence, the mind may, indeed,
already have overcome the difficulties, and, with the lights recently
gained from the harmony, design, and order of creation, have made those
shadows pass imperceptibly away; but when forced again into their very
centre, compelled to adopt them as a fixed station and point of mental
vision, they deepen round the heart again, and, instead of illustrating
anything, become solid darkness themselves.
I cannot quit this topic without observing, however, that there
appears to be nothing in nature and life at all analogous to the
vicarious principle attributed to God in the Trinitarian scheme of
Redemption. There is nowhere to be found any proper transfer or
exchange, either of the qualities, or of the consequences, of vice and
virtue. The good and evil acts of men do indeed affect others _as
well_ as themselves; the innocent suffer _with_ the guilty, as in the
case before adduced, of a child suffering in health by the excesses of
a parent. But there is here no endurance _for_ another, similar to
Christ's alleged endurance in the place of men; the infliction on the
child is not deducted from the parent; it does nothing to lighten his
load, or make it less than it would have been, had he been without
descendants; nor does any one suppose his guilt alleviated by the
existence of this innocent fellow-sufferer. There is a nearer approach
to analogy in those cases of crime, where the perpetrator seems to
escape, and to leave the consequences of his act to descend on others;
as when the successful cheat eludes pursuit, and from the stolen gains
of neighbors constructs a life of luxury for himself; or when a
spendthrift government, forgetful of its high trust, turning the
professions of patriotism into a lie, is permitted to run a prosperous
career for one generation, and is personally gone before the popular
retribution falls, in the next, on innocent successors. Here, no
doubt, the harmless suffer _by_ the guilty, in a certain sense _in
the place of_ the guilty: but not in the sense which the analogy
requires. For there is still no substitution; the distress of the
unoffending party is not struck out of the offender's punishment; does
not lessen, but rather aggravates, his guilt; and, instead of fitting
him for pardon, tempts the natural sentiments of justice to follow him
with severer condemnation. Nor does the scheme receive any better
illustration from the fact, that whoever attempts the cure of misery
must himself suffer; must have the shadows of ill cast upon his spirit
from every sadness he alleviates; and interpose himself to stay the
plague which, in a world diseased, threatens to pass to the living
from the dead. The parallel fails, because there is still no
transference: the appropriate sufferings of sin are not given to the
philanthropist; and the noble pains of goodness in him, the glorious
strife of his self-sacrifice, are no part of the penal consequences of
others' guilt; they do not cancel one iota of those consequences, or
make the crimes which have demanded them, in any way, more ready for
forgiveness. Indeed, it is not in the good man's _sufferings_,
considered as such, that any efficacy resides; but in his _efforts_,
which may be made with great sacrifice or without it, as the case may
be. Nor, at best, is there any proper annihilation of consequences at
all accruing from his toils; the past acts of wrong which call up his
resisting energies are irrevocable, the guilt incurred, the penalty
indestructible; the series of effects, foreign to the mind of the
perpetrator, may be abbreviated; prevention applied to new ills which
threaten to arise; but by all this the personal fitness of the
delinquent for forgiveness is wholly unaffected; the volition of sin
has gone forth, and on it flies, as surely as sound on a vibration of
the air, the verdict of judgment.
Those who are affected by slight and failing analogies like these,
would do well to consider one, sufficiently obvious, which seems to
throw doubt upon their scheme. The atonement is thought to be, in
respect to all believers, a reversal of the fall: the effects of the
fall are partly visible and temporal, partly invisible and eternal;
linked, however, together as inseparable portions of the same penal
system. Now it is evident, that the supposed redemption on the cross
has left precisely where they were all the _visible_ effects of the
first transgression: sorrow and toil are the lot of all, as they have
been from of old; the baptized infant utters a cry as sad as the
unbaptized; and between the holiness of the true believer and the
worth of the devout heretic, there is not discernible such a
difference as there must have been between Adam pure and perfect and
Adam lapsed and lost. And is it presumptuous to reason from the seen
to the unseen, from the part which we experience to that which we can
only conceive? If the known effects are unredeemed, the suspicion is
not unnatural, that so are the unknown.
I sum up, then, this part of my subject by observing, that, besides
many inconclusive appeals to nature, the advocates of the vicarious
scheme are chargeable with this fundamental inconsistency. They appear
to deny that the justice and benevolence of God can be reconciled with
the phenomena of nature; and say that the evidence must be helped out
by resort to their interpretation of Scripture. When, having heard
this auxiliary system, we protest that it renders the case sadder than
before, they assure us that it is all benevolent and just, because it
has its parallel in creation. They renounce and adopt, in the same
breath, the religious appeal to the universe of God.
(2.) Another inconsistency appears, in the view which this theory
gives of the character of God.
It is assumed that, at the era of creation, the Maker of mankind had
announced the infinite penalties which must follow the violation of
his law; and that their amount did not exceed the measure which his
abhorrence of wrong required. "And that which he saith, he would not
be God if he did not perform: that which he perceived right, he would
be unworthy of our trust, did he not fulfil. His veracity and justice,
therefore, were pledged to adhere to the word that had gone forth; and
excluded the possibility of any free and unconditional forgiveness."
Now I would note, in passing, that this announcement to Adam of an
eternal punishment impending over his first sin, is simply a fiction;
for the warning to him is stated thus: "In the day that thou eatest
thereof, thou shalt surely die"; from which our progenitor must have
been ingenious as a theologian, to extract the idea of endless life in
hell. But to say no more of this, what notions of veracity have we
here? When a sentence is proclaimed against crime, is it indifferent
to judicial truth _upon whom_ it falls? Personally addressed to the
guilty, may it descend without a lie upon the guiltless? Provided
there is the suffering, is it no matter _where_? Is this the sense in
which God is no respecter of persons? O what deplorable reflection of
human artifice is this, that Heaven is too veracious to abandon its
proclamation of menace against transgressors, yet is content to vent
it on goodness the most perfect! No darker deed can be imagined, than
is thus ascribed to the Source of all perfection, under the insulted
names of truth and holiness. What reliance could we have on the
faithfulness of such a Being? If it be consistent with his nature to
_punish_ by substitution, what security is there that he will not
_reward_ vicariously? All must be loose and unsettled, the sentiments
of reverence confused, the perceptions of conscience indistinct, where
the terms expressive of those great moral qualities which render God
himself most venerable are thus sported with and profaned.
The same extraordinary departure from all intelligible meaning of
words is apparent, when our charge of vindictiveness against the
doctrine of sacrifice is repelled as a slander. If the rigorous
refusal of pardon till the whole penalty has been inflicted, (when,
indeed, it is no pardon at all,) be not vindictive, we may ask to be
furnished with some better definition. And though it is said, that
God's love was manifested to us by the gift of his Son, this does but
change the object on which this quality is exercised, without removing
the quality itself; putting _us_ indeed into the sunshine of his
grace, but _the Saviour_ into the tempest of his wrath. Did we desire
to sketch the most dreadful form of character, what more emphatic
combination could we invent than this,--rigor in the exaction of penal
suffering, and indifference as to the person on whom it falls?
But in truth this system, in its delineations of the Great Ruler of
creation, bids defiance to all the analogies by which Christ and the
Christian heart have delighted to illustrate his nature. A God who
could accept the spontaneously returning sinner, and restore him by
corrective discipline, is pronounced not worth serving, and an object
of contempt.[14] If so, Jesus sketched an object of contempt when he
drew the father of the prodigal son, opening his arms to the poor
penitent, and needing only the sight of his misery to fall on his neck
with the kiss of welcome home. Let the assertions be true, that
sacrifice and satisfaction are needful preliminaries to pardon, that
to pay any attention to repentance without these is mere weakness, and
that it is a perilous deception to teach the doctrine of mercy apart
from the atonement, and this parable of our Saviour's becomes the most
pernicious instrument of delusion,--a statement, absolute and
unqualified, of a feeble and sentimental heresy. Who does not see what
follows from this scornful exclusion of corrective punishment? Suppose
the infliction not to be corrective, that is, not to be designed for
any good, what then remains as the cause of the Divine retribution?
The sense of insult offered to a law. And thus we are virtually told,
that God must be regarded with a mixture of contempt, unless he be
susceptible of personal affront.
(3.) The last inconsistency with itself, which I shall point out in
this doctrine, will be found in the view which it gives of the work of
Christ. Sin, we are assured, is necessarily infinite. Its infinitude
arises from its reference to an Infinite Being, and involves as a
consequence the necessity of redemption by Deity himself.
The position, that guilt is to be estimated, not by its amount or its
motive, but by the dignity of the being against whom it is directed,
is illustrated by the case of an insubordinate soldier, whose
punishment is increased according as his rebellion assails an equal
or any of the many grades amongst his superiors. It is evident,
however, that it is not the dignity of the person, but the magnitude
of the effect, which determines the severity of the sanction by which,
in such an instance, law enforces order. Insult to a monarch is more
sternly treated than injury to a subject, because it incurs the risk
of wider and more disastrous consequences, and superadds to the
personal injury a peril to an official power which, not resting on
individual superiority, but on conventional arrangement, is always
precarious. It is not indeed easy to form a distinct notion of an
infinite act in a finite agent; and still less is it easy to evade the
inference, that, if an immoral deed against God be an infinite
demerit, a moral deed towards him must be an infinite merit.
Passing by an assertion so unmeaning, and conceding it for the sake of
progress in our argument, I would inquire what is intended by that
other statement, that only Deity can redeem, and that by Deity the
sacrifice was made? The union of the divine and human natures in
Christ is said to have made his sufferings meritorious in an infinite
degree. Yet we are repeatedly assured, that it was in his manhood only
that he endured and died. If the divine nature in our Lord had a joint
consciousness with the human, then did God suffer and perish; if not,
then did the man only die, Deity being no more affected by his
anguish, than by that of the malefactors on either side. In the one
case the perfections of God, in the other the reality of the
atonement, must be relinquished. No doubt, the popular belief is, that
the Creator literally expired; the hymns in common use declare it; the
language of pulpits sanctions it; the consistency of creeds requires
it; but professed theologians repudiate the idea with indignation. Yet
by silence or ambiguous speech, they encourage, in those whom they are
bound to enlighten, this degrading humanization of Deity; which
renders it impossible for common minds to avoid ascribing to him
emotions and infirmities totally irreconcilable with the serene
perfections of the Universal Mind. In his influence on the
worshipper, _He_ is no Spirit, who can be invoked by his agony and
bloody sweat, his cross and passion. And the piety that is thus taught
to bring its incense, however sincere, before the mental image of a
being with convulsed features and expiring cry, has little left of
that which makes Christian devotion characteristically venerable.
II. I proceed to notice the inconsistency of the doctrine under review
with the Christian idea of salvation.
There is one _significant Scriptural fact_, which suggests to us the
best mode of treating this part of our subject. It is this: that the
language supposed to teach the atoning efficacy of the cross does not
appear in the New Testament till the Gentile controversy commences,
nor ever occurs apart from the treatment of that subject, under some
of its relations. The cause of this phenomenon will presently appear;
meanwhile I state it, in the place of an assertion sometimes
incorrectly made, viz. that the phraseology in question is confined to
the Epistles. Even this mechanical limitation of sacrificial passages
is indeed nearly true, as not above three or four have strayed beyond
the epistolary boundary into the Gospels and the book of Acts; but the
restriction in respect of subject, which I have stated, will be found,
I believe, to be absolutely exact, and to furnish the real
interpretation to the whole system of language.
(1.) Let us then first test the vicarious scheme by reference to the
sentiments of Scripture generally, and of our Lord and his Apostles
especially, where this controversy is out of the way. Are their ideas
respecting human character, the forgiveness of sin, the terms of
everlasting life, accordant with the cardinal notions of a believer in
the atonement? Do they, or do they not, insist on the necessity of a
sacrifice for human sin, as a preliminary to pardon, to
sanctification, to the love of God? Do they, or do they not, direct a
marked and almost exclusive attention to the cross, as the object to
which, far more than to the life and resurrection of our Lord, all
faithful eyes should be directed?
(a.) Now to the fundamental assertion of the vicarious system, that
the Deity cannot, without inconsistency and imperfection, pardon on
simple repentance, the whole tenor of the Bible is one protracted and
unequivocal contradiction. So copious is its testimony on this head,
that if the passages containing it were removed, scarcely a shred of
Scripture relating to the subject would remain. "Pardon, I beseech
thee," said Moses, pleading for the Israelites, "the iniquity of this
people, according to the greatness of thy mercy, and as thou hast
forgiven this people from Egypt even until now. And the Lord said, _I
have pardoned according to thy word_." Will it be affirmed, that this
chosen people had their eyes perpetually fixed in faith on the great
propitiation, which was to close their dispensation, and of which
their own ceremonial was a type?--that whenever penitence and pardon
are named amongst them, this reference is implied, and that as this
faith was called to mind and expressed in the shedding of blood at the
altar, such sacrificial offerings take the place, in Judaism, of the
atoning trust in Christianity? Well, then, let us quit the chosen
nation altogether, and go to a heathen people, who were aliens to
their laws, their blood, their hopes, and their religion; to whom no
sacrifice was appointed, and no Messiah promised. If we can discover
the dealings of God with such a people, the case, I presume, must be
deemed conclusive. Hear, then, what happened on the banks of the
Tigris. "Jonah began to enter into the city," (Nineveh,) "and he cried
and said, yet forty days and Nineveh shall be overthrown. So the
people of Nineveh believed God, and proclaimed a fast, and put on
sackcloth, from the greatest of them even unto the least of them."
"Who can tell," (said the decree of the king ordaining the fast,) "if
God will turn and repent, and turn away from his fierce anger, that we
perish not? And God saw their works, that they turned from their evil
way; and God repented of the evil that he had said he would do unto
them; and he did it not." And when the prophet was offended, first at
this clemency to Nineveh, and afterwards that the canker was sent to
destroy his own favorite plant, beneath whose shadow he sat, what did
Jehovah say? "Thou hast had pity on the gourd, for which thou hast not
labored, neither madest it grow; which came up in a night and perished
in a night; and should not I spare Nineveh, that great city, wherein
are more than sixscore thousand persons that cannot discern between
their right hand and their left hand?"--and who are not likely, one
would think, to have discerned the future merits of the Redeemer.
In truth, if even the Israelites had any such prospective views to
Calvary, if their sacrifices conveyed the idea of the cross erected
there, and were established for this purpose, the fact must have been
privately revealed to modern theologians; for not a trace of it can be
found in the Hebrew writings. It must be thought strange, that a
prophetic reference so habitual should be always a secret reference;
that a faith so fundamental should be so mysteriously suppressed; that
the uppermost idea of a nation's mind should never have found its way to
lips or pen. "But if it were not so," we are reminded, "if the Jewish
ritual prefigured nothing ulterior, it was revolting, trifling, savage;
its worship a butchery, and the temple courts no better than a
slaughter-house." And were they not equally so, though the theory of
types be true? If neither priest nor people could _see at the time_ the
very thing which the ceremonial was constructed to reveal, what
advantage is it that divines can see it _now_? And even if the notion
was conveyed to the Jewish mind, (which the whole history shows not to
have been the fact,) was it necessary that hecatombs should be slain,
age after age, to intimate obscurely an idea, which one brief sentence
might have lucidly expressed? The idea, however, it is evident, slipped
through after all; for when Messiah actually came, the one great thing
which the Jews did _not_ know and believe about him was, that he could
die at all. So much for the preparatory discipline of fifteen centuries!
There is no reason, then, why anything should be supplied in our
thoughts, to alter the plain meaning of the announcements of prophets
and holy men, of God's unconditional forgiveness on repentance. "Thou
desirest not sacrifice, else would I give it; thou delightest not in
burnt-offering; the sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken
and a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise." "Wash you, make
you clean," says the prophet Isaiah in the name of the Lord; "put away
the evil of your doings from before mine eyes, cease to do evil, learn
to do well; seek judgment, relieve the oppressed, judge the
fatherless, plead for the widow. Come now, and let us reason together,
saith the Lord; though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as
snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool." Once
more, "When I say unto the wicked, thou shalt surely die; if he turn
from his sin, and do that which is lawful and right; if the wicked
restore the pledge, give again that he hath robbed, walk in the
statutes of life without committing iniquity; he shall surely live, he
shall not die." Nor are the teachings of the Gospel at all less
explicit. Our Lord treats largely and expressly on the doctrine of
forgiveness in several parables, and especially that of the prodigal
son; and omits all allusion to the propitiation for the past. He
furnishes an express definition of the terms of eternal life: "Good
master, what good thing shall I do, that I may have eternal life? And
he said unto him, Why callest thou me good? there is none good save
one, that is God; but if thou wilt enter into life, keep the
commandments." And Jesus adds, "If thou wilt be perfect, go and sell
that thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in
heaven; and come, follow me." This silence on the prime condition of
pardon cannot be explained by the fact, that the crucifixion had not
yet taken place, and could not safely be alluded to, before the course
of events had brought it into prominent notice. For we have the
preaching of the Apostles, after the ascension, recorded at great
length, and under very various circumstances, in the book of Acts. We
have the very "words whereby," according to the testimony of an angel,
"Cornelius and all his house shall be saved"; these, one would think,
would be worth hearing in this cause: "God anointed Jesus of Nazareth
with the Holy Ghost, and with power; who went about doing good, and
healing all that were oppressed of the Devil, for God was with him.
And we are witnesses of all things which he did, both in the land of
the Jews and in Jerusalem; whom they slew and hanged on a tree. Him
God raised up the third day, and showed openly; not to all the people,
but unto witnesses chosen before of God, even to us, who did eat and
drink with him after he rose from the dead. And he commanded us to
preach unto the people, and to testify that it is he who was ordained
of God to be the judge of quick and dead. To him give all the prophets
witness, that through his name whosoever believeth in him shall
receive remission of sins." Did an Evangelical missionary dare to
preach in this style now, he would be immediately disowned by his
employers, and dismissed as a disguised Socinian, who kept back all
the "peculiar doctrines of the Gospel."
(b.) The emphatic mention of the resurrection by the Apostle Peter in
this address, is only a particular instance of a system which pervades
the whole preaching of the first missionaries of Christ. _This_, and
not the cross, with its supposed effects, is the grand object to which
they call the attention and the faith of their hearers. I cannot quote
to you the whole book of Acts; but every reader knows, that "Jesus and
the resurrection" constitutes the leading theme, the central
combination of ideas in all its discourses. This truth was shed, from
Peter's tongue of fire, on the multitudes that heard amazed the
inspiration of the day of Pentecost. Again, it was his text, when,
passing beneath the beautiful gate, he made the cripple leap for joy;
and then, with the flush of this deed still fresh upon him, leaned
against a pillar in Solomon's porch, and spake in explanation to the
awe-struck people, thronging in at the hour of prayer. Before priests
and rulers, before Sanhedrim and populace, the same tale is told
again, to the utter exclusion, be it observed, of the essential
doctrine of the cross. The authorities of the temple, we are told,
were galled and terrified at the Apostle's preaching; "naturally
enough," it will be said, "since, the real sacrifice having been
offered, their vocation, which was to make the prefatory and typical
oblation, was threatened with destruction." But no, this is not the
reason given: "They were grieved because they preached, through Jesus,
the resurrection from the dead." Paul, too, while his preaching was
spontaneous and free, and until he had to argue certain controversies
which have long ago become obsolete, manifested a no less remarkable
predilection for this topic. Before Felix, he declares what was the
grand indictment of his countrymen against him: "Touching the
resurrection of the dead, I am called in question of you this day."
Follow him far away from his own land; and, with foreigners, he harps
upon the same subject, as if he were a man of one idea; which, indeed,
according to our opponents' scheme, he ought to have been, only it
should have been _another idea_. Seldom, however, can we meet with a
more exuberant mind than Paul's; yet the resurrection obviously haunts
him wherever he goes: in the synagogue of Antioch you hear him
dwelling on it with all the energy of his inspiration; and, at Athens,
it was this on which the scepticism of Epicureans and Stoics fastened
for a scoff. In his Epistles, too, where he enlarges so much on
justification by faith, when we inquire what precisely is this faith,
and what the object it is to contemplate and embrace, this remarkable
fact presents itself: that the one only important thing respecting
Christ, which is _never once_ mentioned as the object of justifying
faith, is _his death_, _and blood_, _and cross_. "Faith" by itself,
the "faith of Jesus Christ," "faith of the Gospel," "faith of the Son
of God," are expressions of constant occurrence; and wherever this
general description is replaced by a more specific account of this
justifying state of mind, it is _faith in the resurrection_ on which
attention is fastened. "It is Christ that died, _yea, rather, that is
risen again_." "He was delivered for our offences, and _raised again
for our justification_." "Faith shall be imputed to us for
righteousness, if we believe on _him that raised up Jesus our Lord
from the dead_." Hear, too, the Apostle's definition of saving faith:
"If thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt
believe in thy heart _that God hath raised him from the dead_, thou
shalt be saved." The only instance in which the writings of St. Paul
appear to associate the word faith with the death of Christ, is the
following text: "Whom God hath set forth to be a propitiation through
faith in his blood"; and in this case the Apostle's meaning would, I
conceive, be more faithfully given by destroying this conjunction, and
disposing the words thus: "Whom God hath set forth to be a
propitiation by his blood, through faith." The idea of his _blood_, or
_death_, belongs to the word propitiation, not to the word faith. To
this translation no Trinitarian scholar, I am persuaded, can
object;[15] and when the true meaning of the writer's sacrificial
language is explained, the distinction will appear to be not
unimportant. At present I am concerned only with the defence of my
position, that the death of Christ is never mentioned as the object of
saving faith; but that his resurrection unquestionably is. This
phenomenon in Scripture phraseology is so extraordinary, so utterly
repugnant to everything which a hearer of orthodox preaching would
expect, that I hardly expect my affirmation of it to be believed. The
two ideas of _faith_, and of our _Lord's death_, are so naturally and
perpetually united in the mind of every believer in the atonement,
that it must appear to him incredible that they should never fall
together in the writings of the Apostles. However, I have stated my
fact; and it is for you to bring it to the test of Scripture.
(c.) Independently of all written testimony, moral reasons, we are
assured, exist, which render an absolute remission for the past
essential to a regenerated life for the future. Our human nature is said
to be so constituted, that the burden of sin, on the conscience once
awakened, is intolerable; our spirit cries aloud for mercy; yet is so
straitened by the bands of sin, so conscious of the sad alliance
lingering still, so full of hesitancy and shame when seeking the relief
of prayer, so blinded by its tears when scanning the heavens for an
opening of light and hope, that there is no freedom, no unrestrained and
happy love to God; but a pinched and anxious mind, bereft of power,
striving to work with bandaged or paralytic will, instead of trusting
itself to loosened and self-oblivious affections. Hence it is thought,
that the sin of the past must be cancelled, before the holiness of the
future can be commenced; that it is a false order to represent
repentance as leading to pardon, because to be forgiven is the
prerequisite to love. We cannot forget, however, how distinctly and
emphatically he who, after God, best knew what is in man, has
contradicted this sentiment; for when that sinful woman, whose presence
in the house shocked the sanctimonious Pharisee, stood at his feet as he
reclined, washing them with her tears, and kissing them with reverential
lips, Jesus turned to her and said, "Her sins, which are many, are
forgiven; _for_ she loved much." From him, then, we learn, what our own
hearts would almost teach, that love may be the prelude to forgiveness,
as well as forgiveness the preparative for love.
At the same time let me acknowledge, that this statement respecting
the moral effects of conscious pardon, to which I have invoked Jesus
to reply, is by no means an unmixed error. It touches upon a very
profound and important truth; and I can never bring myself to regard
that assurance of Divine forgiveness, which the doctrine of atonement
imparts, as a demoralizing state of mind, encouraging laxity of
conscience and a continuance in sin. The sense of pardon, doubtless,
reaches the secret springs of gratitude, presents the soul with an
object, strange before, of new and divine affection, and binds the
child of redemption, by all generous and filial obligations, to serve
with free and willing heart the God who hath gone forth to meet him.
That the motives of self-interest are diminished in such a case, is a
trifle that need occasion small anxiety. For the human heart is no
laborer for hire; and, where there is opportunity afforded for true
and noble love, will thrust away the proffered wages, and toil rather
in a free and thankful spirit. If we are to compare, as a source of
duty, the grateful with the merely prudential temper, rather may we
trust the first, as not the worthier only, but the stronger too; and
till we obtain emancipation from the latter,--forget the computations
of hope and fear, and precipitate ourselves for better or for worse on
some object of divine love and trust,--our nature will be puny and
weak, our wills will turn in sickness from their duty, and our
affections shrink in aversion from their heaven. But though personal
gratitude is better than prudence, there is a higher service still. A
more disinterested love may spring from the contemplation of what God
is in himself, than from the recollection of what he has done for us;
and when this mingles most largely as an element among our springs of
action; when, humbled indeed by a knowledge of dangers that await us,
and thankful, too, for the blessings spread around us, we yet desire
chiefly to be fitting children of the everlasting Father and the holy
God; when we venerate him for the graciousness, and purity, and
majesty of his spirit, impersonated in Jesus, and resolve to serve him
truly, _before_ he has granted the desire of our heart, and because he
is of a nature so sublime and merciful and good;--then are we in the
condition of her who bent over the feet of Christ; and we are
forgiven, because we have loved much.
(2.) Let us now, in conclusion, turn our attention to those portions
of the New Testament which speak of the death of Christ as the means
of redemption.
I have said, that these are to be found exclusively in passages of the
sacred writings which treat of the Gentile controversy, or of topics
immediately connected with it. This controversy arose naturally out of
the design of Providence to make the narrow, exclusive, ceremonial
system of Judaism give birth to the universal and spiritual religion of
the Gospel; from God's method of expanding the Hebrew Messiah into the
Saviour of humanity. For this the nation was not prepared; to this even
the Hebrew Christians could not easily conform their faith; and in the
achievement of this, or in persuading the world that it was achieved,
did Paul spend his noble life, and write his astonishing Epistles. The
Jews knew that the Deliverer was to be of their peculiar stock, and
their royal lineage; they believed that he would gather upon himself all
the singularities of their race, and be a Hebrew to intensity; that he
would literally restore the kingdom to Israel; ay, and extend it too,
immeasurably beyond the bounds of its former greatness; till, in fact,
it swallowed up all existing principalities, and powers, and thrones,
and dominions, and became coextensive with the earth. Then in Jerusalem,
as the centre of the vanquished nations, before the temple, as the altar
of a humbled world, did they expect the Messiah to erect his throne; and
when he had taken the seat of judgment, to summon all the tribes before
his tribunal, and pass on the Gentiles, excepting the few who might
submit to the law, a sentence of perpetual exclusion from his realm;
while his own people would be invited to the seats of honor, occupy the
place of authority, and sit down with him (the greatest at his right
hand and his left) at his table in his kingdom. The holy men of old were
to come on earth again to see this day. And many thought that every part
of the realm thus constituted, and all its inhabitants, would never die:
but, like the Messiah himself, and the patriarchs whom he was to call to
life, would be invested with immortality. None were to be admitted to
these golden days except themselves; all else to be left in outer
darkness from this region of light, and there to perish and be seen no
more. The grand title to admission was conformity with the Mosaic law;
the most ritually scrupulous were the most secure; and the careless
Israelite, who forgot or omitted an offering, a tithe, a Sabbath duty,
might incur the penalty of exclusion and death: the law prescribed such
mortal punishment for the smallest offence; and no one, therefore, could
feel himself ready with his claim, if he had not yielded a perfect
obedience. If God were to admit him on any other plea, it would be of
pure grace and goodness, and not in fulfilment of any promise.
The Jews, being scattered over the civilized world, and having
synagogues in every city, came into perpetual contact with other
people. Nor was it possible that the Gentiles, among whom they lived,
should notice the singular purity and simplicity of the Israelitish
Theism, without some of them being struck with its spirit, attracted
by its sublime principles, and disposed to place themselves in
religious relations with that singular people. Having been led into
admiration, and even profession, of the nation's theology, they could
not but desire to share their hopes; which indeed were an integral
part of their religion, and, at the Christian era, the one element in
it to which they were most passionately attached. But this was a
stretch of charity too great for any Hebrew; or, at all events, if
such admission were ever to be thought of, it must be only on
condition of absolute submission to the requirements of the law. The
Gentile would naturally plead, that, as God had not made him of the
chosen nation, he had given him no law, except that of conscience;
that, being without the law, he must be a law unto himself; and that,
if he had lived according to his light, he could not be justly
excluded on the ground of accidental disqualification. Possibly, in
the provocation of dispute, the Gentile might sometimes become froward
and insolent in his assertion of claim; and, in the pride of his
heart, demand as a right that which, at most, could only be humbly
hoped for as a privilege and a free gift.
Thus were the parties mutually placed to whom the Deliverer came. Thus
dense and complicated was the web of prejudice which clung round the
early steps of the Gospel; and which must be burst or disentangled ere
the glad tidings could have free course and be glorified. How did
Providence develop from such elements the divine and everlasting
truth? Not by neglecting them, and speaking to mankind as if they had
no such ideas; not by forbidding his messengers and teachers to have
any patience with them; but, on the contrary, by using these very
notions as temporary means to his everlasting ends; by touching this
and that with light before the eyes of Apostles, as if to say, there
are good capabilities in these; the truth may be educed from them so
gently and so wisely, that the world will find itself in light,
without perceiving how it has been quitting the darkness.
So long as Christ remained on earth, he necessarily confined his
ministry to his nation. He would not have been the Messiah had he done
otherwise. By birth, by lineage, by locality, by habit, he was
altogether theirs. Whoever, then, of his own people, during his mortal
life, believed in him and followed him, became a subject of the
Messiah; ready, it was supposed, even by the Apostles themselves, to
enter the glory of his kingdom, whenever it should please him to
assume it; qualified at once, by the combination of pedigree and of
belief, to enter into life, to become a member of the kingdom of God,
to take a place among the elect; for by all these phrases was
described the admission to the expected realm. If, then, Jesus had
never suffered and died, if he had never retired from this world, but
stayed to fulfil the anticipations of his first followers, his
Messianic kingdom might have included all the converts of the
Israelitish stock. From the exclusion which fell on others, they would
have obtained salvation. Hence, it is never in connection with the
first Jewish Christians that the _death of Christ_ is mentioned.
It was otherwise, however, with the Gentiles. They could not become his
followers in his mortal lifetime; and had a Messianic reign _then_ been
set up, they must have been excluded; no missionary would have been
justified in addressing them with invitation; they could not, as it was
said, have entered into life. The Messiah must cease to be Jewish,
before he could become universal; and this implied his death, by which
alone the personal relations, which made him the property of a nation,
could be annihilated. To this he submitted; he disrobed himself of his
corporeality, he became an immortal spirit; thereby instantly burst his
religion open to the dimensions of the world; and, as he ascended to the
skies, sent it forth to scatter the seeds of blessing over the field of
the world, long ploughed with cares, and moist with griefs, and softened
now to nourish in its bosom the tree of Life.
Now, how would the effect of this great revolution be described to the
proselyte Gentiles, so long vainly praying for admission to the
Israelitish hope. At once it destroyed their exclusion; put away as
valueless the Jewish claims of circumcision and law; nailed the
handwriting of ordinances to the cross; reconciled them that had been
afar off; redeemed them to God by his blood, out of every tongue, and
kindred, and people, and nation; washed them in his blood; justified
them _by his resurrection and ascension_; an expression, I would
remark, unmeaning on any other explanation.
Even during our Lord's personal ministry his approaching death is
mentioned as the means of introducing the Gentiles into his Messianic
kingdom. He adverts repeatedly to his cross, as designed to widen, by
their admission, the extent of his sway; and, according to Scripture
phrase, to yield to him "much fruit." He was already on his last fatal
visit to Jerusalem, when, taking the hint from _the visit of some
Greeks to him_, he exclaimed: "The hour is come, that the Son of man
should be glorified. Verily, verily, I say unto you, except a grain of
wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone: but _if it die,
it bringeth forth much fruit_." He adds, in allusion to the death he
should die: "And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw _all
men unto me_." It is for this end that he resigns for a while his
life,--that he may bring in the wanderers who are not of the
commonwealth of Israel: "Other sheep I have, which are not of this
fold: them also I must bring, and they shall hear my voice; and there
shall be one fold and one shepherd: _therefore doth my Father love me,
because I lay down my life_, that I may take it again." Many a parable
did Jesus utter, proclaiming his Father's intended mercy to the
uncovenanted nations: but for himself personally he declared, "I am
not sent, but to the lost sheep of the house of Israel." His advent
was a promise of _their_ economy; his office, the traditionary hope of
their fathers; his birth, his life, his person, were under the Law,
and excluded him from relations to those who were beyond its
obligations. On the cross, all the connate peculiarities of the
Nazarene ceased to exist: when the seal of the sepulchre gave way, the
seal of the law was broken too; the nationality of his person passed
away; for how can an immortal be a Jew? This, then, was the time to
open wide the scope of his mission, and to invite to God's acceptance
those that fear him in every nation. Though, before, the disciple
might "have known Christ after the flesh," and followed his steps as
the Hebrew Messiah, "yet now henceforth was he to know him so no
more"; these "old things had passed away," since he had "died for
all,"--died to become universal,--to drop all exclusive relations, and
"reconcile the world," the Gentile world, to God. Observe to whom this
"ministry of reconciliation" is especially confided. As if to show
that it is exclusively _the risen Christ_ who belongs to all men, and
that his death was the instrument of the Gentiles' admission, their
great Apostle was one Paul, who had not known the Saviour in his
mortal life; who never listened to his voice till it spake from
heaven; who himself was the convert of his ascension; and bore to him
the relation, not of subject to the person of a Hebrew king, but of
spirit to spirit, unembarrassed by anything earthly, legal, or
historical. Well did Paul understand the freedom and the sanctity of
this relation; and around the idea of the Heavenly Messiah gathered
all his conceptions of the spirituality of the Gospel, of its power
over the unconscious affections, rather than a reluctant will. His
believing countrymen were afraid to disregard the observances of the
law, lest it should be a disloyalty to God, and disqualify them for
the Messiah's welcome, when he came to take his power and reign. Paul
tells them, that, while their Lord remained in this mortal state, they
were right; as representative of the law, and filling an office
created by the religion of Judaism, he could not but have held them
_then_ to its obligations; nor could they, without infidelity, have
neglected its claims, any more than a wife can innocently separate
herself from a living husband. But as the death of the man sets the
woman free, and makes null the law of their union, so the decease of
Christ's body emancipates his followers from all legal relations to
him; and they are at liberty to wed themselves anew to the risen
Christ, who dwells where no ordinance is needful, no tie permitted but
of the spirit, and all are as the angels of God. Surely, then, this
mode of conception explains why the death of Jesus constitutes a great
date in the Christian economy, especially as expounded by the friend
and Apostle of those who were not "Jews by nature, but sinners of the
Gentiles." Had he never died, they must have remained aliens from his
sway; the enemies against whom his power must be directed; without
hope in the day of his might; strangers to God and his vicegerent.
But, while thus they "were yet without strength, Christ died for" these
"ungodly"; died to put himself into connection with them, else
impossible; and, rising from death, drew them after him into spiritual
existence on earth, analogous to that which he passed in heaven. "You,"
says their Apostle, "being dead in your sins and the uncircumcision of
your flesh, hath he quickened together with him"; giving you, as "risen
with him," a life above the world and its law of exclusion,--a life not
"subject to ordinances," but of secret love and heavenly faith, "hid
with Christ in God"; "blotting out the handwriting of ordinances that
was against us, which was contrary to us, and taking it out of the way,
nailing it to his cross." God had never intended to perpetuate the
division between Israel and the world, receiving the one as the sons,
and shutting out the other as the slaves of his household. If there had
been an appearance of such partiality, he had always designed to set
these bondmen free, and to make them "heirs of God through Christ"; "in
whom they had redemption through his blood" from their servile state,
the forgiveness of disqualifying sins, according to the riches of his
grace. Though the Hebrews boasted that "theirs was the adoption," and
till Messiah's death had boasted truly; yet in that event God, "before
the foundation of the world," had "blessed us" (Gentiles) "with all
spiritual blessings in heavenly places"; "having predestinated us unto
the adoption of children, by Jesus Christ, according" (not indeed to any
right or promise, but) "to the good pleasure of his will," "and when we
were enemies, having reconciled us, by the death of his Son"; "that in
the fulness of times he might gather together in one _all things_ in
Christ"; "by whom we" (Gentiles) "have now received this atonement"
(reconciliation); that he might have no partial empire, but that "in him
might all fulness dwell." "Wherefore," says their Apostle, "remember
that ye, _Gentiles in the flesh_, were in time past without Messiah,
being aliens from the commonwealth of Israel, and strangers from the
covenant of promise, having no hope, and without God in the world; but
now in Christ Jesus, ye, who sometime were afar off, are made nigh by
the blood of Christ. For he is our peace, who hath made both one, and
hath broken down the middle wall of partition between us" (not between
God and man, but between Jew and Gentile); "having abolished in his
flesh the enmity, even the law of commandments, contained in ordinances;
for to make in himself, of twain, one new man, so _making peace_; and
that he might reconcile both unto God, in one body, by the cross, having
slain the enmity thereby; and came and preached peace to you who were
afar off, as well as to them that were nigh. For through him we both
have an access by one spirit unto the Father."
The way, then, is clear and intelligible, in which the death and
ascension of the Messiah rendered him universal, by giving spirituality
to his rule; and, on the simple condition of faith, added the
uncovenanted nations to his dominion, so far as they were willing to
receive him. This idea, and this only, will be found in almost every
passage of the New Testament (excepting the Epistle to the Hebrews)
usually adduced to prove the doctrine of the Atonement. Some of the
strongest of these I have already quoted; and my readers must judge
whether they have received a satisfactory meaning. There are others, in
which the Gentiles are not so distinctly stated to be the sole objects
of the redemption of the cross; but with scarcely an exception, so far
as I can discover, this limitation is implied, and either creeps out
through some adjacent expression in the context, or betrays itself, when
we recur to the general course of the Apostle's argument, or to the
character and circumstances of his correspondents. Thus Paul says, that
Christ "gave himself a ransom for all, to be testified in due time"; the
next verse shows what is in his mind, when he adds, "_whereunto_ I am
ordained a preacher, and an Apostle, a teacher of THE GENTILES in faith
and verity"; and the whole sentiment of the context is the _Universality
of the Gospel_, and the duty of praying for Gentile kings and people, as
not abandoned to a foreign God and another Mediator; for since Messiah's
death, to _us all_ "there is but One God, and One Mediator between God
and men, the man Christ Jesus": wherefore the Apostle wills, that _for
all_ "men pray everywhere, lifting up holy hands, without wrath and
doubting,"--without wrath at their admission, or doubt of their
adoption. And wherever emphasis is laid on the _vast number_ benefited
by the cross, a contrast is implied with the _few_ (only the Jews) who
could have been his subjects had he not died: and when it is said, "he
gave his life a ransom _for many_"; his blood was "shed _for many_, for
the remission of sins"; "thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us by thy
blood, _out of every kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation_, and
hast made us unto our God kings and priests, and we shall reign on the
earth"; "behold the Lamb of God that taketh away the sin of _the
world_";[16]--by all these expressions is still denoted the efficacy of
Christ's death in removing the Gentile disqualification, and making his
dispensation spiritual as his celestial existence, and universal as the
Fatherhood of God. Does Paul exhort certain of his disciples "to feed
the church of the Lord, which he hath purchased with his own blood"?[17]
We find that he is speaking of the _Gentile_ church of Ephesus, whose
elders he is instructing in the management of their charge, and to which
he afterwards wrote the well-known Epistle, on their Gentile freedom and
adoption obtained by the Messiah's death. When Peter says, "Ye know that
ye were not redeemed with corruptible things, as silver and gold, from
your vain conversation, received by tradition from your fathers; but
with the precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb without blemish and
without spot,"--we must inquire _to whom_ he is addressing these words.
If it be to the Jews, the interpretation which I have hitherto given of
such language will not apply, and we must seek an explanation altogether
different. But the whole manner of this Epistle, the complexion of its
phraseology throughout, convinces me that it was addressed especially to
the _Gentile converts_ of Asia Minor; and that the redemption of which
it speaks is no other than that which is the frequent theme of their own
Apostle.
In the passage just quoted, the form of expression itself suggests the
idea, that Peter is addressing a class which did not include himself:
"YE were not redeemed," &c.; farther on, in the same Epistle, the same
sentiment occurs, however, without any such visible restriction.
Exhorting to patient suffering for conscience' sake, he appeals to the
example of Christ; "who, when he suffered, threatened not, but
committed himself to Him that judgeth righteously; who, his own self,
bare _our_ sins in his own body on the tree, that we, being dead to
sins, should live unto righteousness": yet, with instant change in the
expression, revealing his correspondents to us, the Apostle adds, "by
whose stripes YE were healed. For ye were as sheep going astray; but
are now returned unto the Shepherd and Bishop of your souls." With the
instinct of a gentle and generous heart, the writer, treating in plain
terms of the former sins of those whom he addresses, puts himself in
with them; and avoids every appearance of that spiritual pride by
which the Jew constantly rendered himself offensive to the Gentile.
Again, in this letter, he recommends the duty of patient endurance, by
appeal to the same consideration of Christ's disinterested
self-sacrifice. "It is better, if the will of God be so, that ye suffer
for well-doing than for evil-doing: for Christ also hath once suffered
for sins, the just for the unjust, that he might bring us to God." And
who are these "unjust" that are thus brought to God? The Apostle
instantly explains, by describing how the "Jews by nature" lost
possession of Messiah by the death of his person, and "sinners of the
Gentiles" gained him by the resurrection of his immortal nature; "being
put to death in flesh, but quickened in spirit; and _thereby he went and
preached unto the spirits in prison, who formerly were without faith_."
This is clearly a description of the heathen world, ere it was brought
into relation to the Messianic promises. Still further confirmation,
however, follows. The Apostle adds: "Forasmuch, then, as Christ hath
suffered for us in the flesh, arm yourselves likewise with the same
mind; for the time past of our life may suffice us to have wrought the
will _of the Gentiles_; when _we_ walked in lasciviousness, lusts,
excess of wine, revellings, banquetings, and _abominable idolatries_."
If we cannot admit this to be a just description of the holy Apostle's
former life, we must perceive that, writing to Pagans of whom it was
all true, he beautifully withholds from his language every trace of
invidious distinction, puts himself for the moment into the same class,
and seems to take his share of the distressing recollection.
The habitual delicacy with which Paul, likewise, classed himself with
every order of persons in turn, to whom he had anything painful to
say, is known to every intelligent reader of his Epistles. Hence, in
_his_ writings too, we have often to consider _with whom_ it is that
he is holding his dialogue, and to make our interpretation dependent
on the answer. When, for example, he says, that Jesus "was delivered
for _our_ offences, and was raised again for _our_ justification"; I
ask, "For whose?--was it for everybody's?--or for the Jews', since
Paul was a Hebrew?" On looking closely into the argument, I find it
beyond doubt that neither of these answers is correct; and that the
Apostle, in conformity with his frequent practice, is certainly
identifying himself, Israelite though he was, with _the Gentiles_, to
whom, at that moment, his reasoning applies itself. The neighboring
verses have expressions which clearly enough declare this: "when we
were _yet without strength_," and "_while we were yet sinners_,"
Christ died for us. It is to the _Gentile church_ at Corinth, and
while expatiating on their privileges and relations as such, that Paul
speaks of the disqualifications and legal unholiness of the heathen,
as vanishing in the death of the Messiah; as the recovered leper's
uncleanness was removed, and his banishment reversed, and his
exclusion from the temple ended, when the lamb without blemish, which
the law prescribed as his sin-offering, bled beneath the knife, so did
God provide in Jesus a lamb without blemish for the exiled and
unsanctified Gentiles, to bring them from their far dwelling in the
leprous haunts of this world's wilderness, and admit them to the
sanctuary of spiritual health and worship: "He hath made him to be a
sin-offering for us (Gentiles), who knew no sin; that we might be made
the justified of God in him"; entering, under the Messiah, the
community of saints. That, in this sacrificial allusion, the Gentile
adoption is still the Apostle's only theme, is evident hence: that
twice in this very passage he declares that he is speaking of that
peculiar "reconciliation," the word and ministry of which have been
committed to himself; he is dwelling on the topic most natural to one
who "magnified his office," as "Apostle of the Gentiles."
To the same parties was Paul writing, when he said, "Christ, our
passover, is sacrificed for us." Frequently as this sentence is cited
in evidence of the doctrine of Atonement, there is hardly a verse in
Scripture more utterly inapplicable; nor, if the doctrine were true,
could anything be more inept than an allusion to it in this place. I
do not dwell on the fact that the paschal lamb was neither
sin-offering nor proper sacrifice at all: for the elucidation of the
death of Jesus by sacrificial analogies is as easy and welcome as any
other mode of representing it. But I turn to the whole context, and
seek for its leading idea, before multiplying inferences from a
subordinate illustration. I find the author treating, not of the
_deliverance_ of believers from curse or exclusion, but of their duty
to keep the churches cleansed, by the expulsion of notoriously
profligate members. Such persons they are to cast from them, as the
Jews, at the passover, swept from their houses all the leaven they
contained; and as for eight days, at that season, only pure unleavened
bread was allowed for use, so the Church must keep the Gospel festival
free from the ferment of malice and wickedness, and tasting nothing
but sincerity and truth. This comparison is the primary sentiment of
the whole passage; under cover of which the Apostle is urging the
Corinthians to expel a certain licentious offender: and only because
the feast of unleavened bread, on which his fancy has alighted, set in
with the day of passover, does he allude to this in completion of the
figure. As his correspondents were Gentiles, their Christianity
commenced with the death of Christ; with him, as an immortal, their
spiritual relations commenced; when he rose, they rose with him, as by
a divine attraction, from an earthly to a heavenly state; their old
and corrupt man had been buried together with him, and, with the human
infirmities of his person, left behind for ever in his sepulchre; and
it became them "to seek those things which are above," and to "yield
themselves to God, as those that are alive from the dead." This period
of the Lord's sequestration in the heavens Paul represents as a
festival of purity to the disciples on earth, ushered in by the
self-sacrifice of Christ. The time is come, he says; cast away the
leaven, for the passover is slain, blessed bread of heaven to them
that taste it! let nothing now be seen in all the household of the
Church, but the unleavened cake of simplicity and love.
Paul again appears as the advocate of the Gentiles, when he protests
that now between them and the Jews "there is no difference, since all
have sinned and come short of the glory of God"; that the Hebrew has
lost all claim to the Messianic adoption, and can have no hope but in
that free grace of God, which has a sovereign right to embrace the
heathen too; and which, in fact, has compassed the Gentiles within its
redemption, by causing Jesus the Messiah to die; "by whose blood God
hath set forth a propitiation, through faith; to evince his justice,
while overlooking, with the forbearance of God, transgressions
past;--to evince his justice in the arrangements of the present
crisis; which preserve his justice (to the Israelite), yet justify on
mere discipleship to Jesus." The great question which the Apostle
discusses throughout this Epistle is this: "On what terms is a man now
admitted as a subject to the Messiah, so as to be acknowledged by him,
when he comes to erect his kingdom?" "He must be one of the
circumcised, to whom alone the holy law and promises are given," says
the Jew. "That is well," replies Paul; "only the promises, you
remember, are conditional on obedience; and he who claims by the law
must stand the judgment of the law. Can your nation abide this test,
and will you stake your hopes upon the issue? Or is there on record
against you a violation of every condition of your boasted
covenant,--wholesale and national transgression, which your favorite
code itself menaces with 'cutting off'? Have you even rejected and
crucified the very Messiah, who was tendered to you in due fulfilment
of the promises? Take your trial by the principles of your law, and
you must be cast off, and perish, as certainly as the heathen whom you
despise; and whose rebellion against the natural law, gross as it is,
does not surpass your own offences against the tables of Moses. You
must abandon the claim of right, the high talk of God's justice and
plighted faith;--which are alike ill suited to you both. The rules of
law are out of the question, and would admit nobody; and we must
ascend again to the sovereign will and free mercy of Him who is the
source of law; and who, to bestow a blessing which its resources
cannot confer, may devise new methods of beneficence. God has violated
no pledge. Messiah came to Israel, and never went beyond its bounds;
the uncircumcised had no part in him; and every Hebrew who desired it
was received as his subject. But when the people would not have him,
and threw away their ancient title, was God either to abandon his
vicegerent, or to force him on the unwilling? No: rather did it befit
him to say: 'If they will reject and crucify my servant,--why, let him
die, and then he is Israelite no more; I will raise him, and take him
apart in his immortality; where his blood of David is lost; and the
holiness of his humanity is glorified; and all shall be his, who will
believe, and love him, as he there exists, spiritually and truly.'"
Thus, according to Paul, does God provide a new method of adoption or
justification, without violating any promises of the old. Thus he
makes Faith in Jesus--a moral act, instead of a genealogical
accident--the single condition of reception into the Divine kingdom
upon earth. Thus, after the passage of Christ from this world to
another, Jew and Gentile are on an equality in relation to the
Messiah; the one gaining nothing by his past privileges; the other,
not visited with exclusion for past idolatry and sins, but assured, in
Messiah's death, that these are to be overlooked, and treated as if
cleansed away. He finds himself invited into the very penetralia of
that sanctuary of pure faith and hope, from which before he had been
repelled as an unclean thing; as if its ark of mercy had been purified
for ever from his unworthy touch, or he himself had been sprinkled by
some sudden consecration. And all this was the inevitable and instant
effect of that death on Calvary, which took Messiah from the Jews and
gave him to the world.
With emphasis, not less earnest than that of Paul, does the Apostle John
repudiate the notion of any _claim_ on the Divine admission by law or
righteousness; and insist on humble and unqualified acceptance of God's
free grace and remission for the past, as the sole avenue of entrance to
the kingdom. This avenue was open, however, to all "who confessed that
Jesus the Messiah had come in the flesh"; in other words, that, during
his mortal life, Jesus had been indicated as this future Prince; and
that his ministry was the Messiah's preliminary visit to that earth on
which shortly he would reappear to reign. The great object of that visit
was to prepare the world for his real coming; for as yet it was very
unfit for so great a crisis; and especially to open, by his death, a way
of admission for the Gentiles, and frame, on their behalf, an act of
oblivion for the past. "If," says the Apostle to them, "we walk in the
light, _as he is in the light_" (of love and heaven), "we have
fellowship one with another, and the blood of Jesus Christ his Son
cleanseth us from all sin": the Israelite will embrace the Gentiles in
fraternal relations, knowing that the cross has removed their past
unholiness. Nor let the Hebrew rely on anything now but the Divine
forbearance; to appeal to rights will serve no longer: "If we say we
have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us." Nor let
any one despair of a reception, or even a restoration, because he has
been an idolater and sinner: "Jesus Christ the righteous" is "an
advocate with the Father" for admitting all who are willing to be his;
"and he is the propitiation for our sins; and not for ours only (not
merely for our small portion of Gentiles, already converted); but also
for the _whole_ world," if they will but accept him. He died to become
universal; to make all his own; to spread an oblivion, wide as the
earth, over all that had embarrassed the relations to the Messiah, and
made men aliens, instead of Sons of God. Yet did no spontaneous movement
of their good affections solicit this change. It was "not that we
(Gentiles) loved God; but that he loved us, and sent his Son, the
propitiation for our sins"; "he sent his only-begotten Son into the
world, that we might live through him." That this Epistle was addressed
to Gentiles, and is therefore occupied with the same leading idea
respecting the cross which pervades the writings of Paul, is rendered
probable by its concluding words, which could hardly be appropriate to
Jews: "Keep yourselves from idols." How little the Apostle associated
any vicarious idea even with a form of phrase most constantly employed
by modern theology to express it, is evident from the parallel which he
draws, in the following words, between the death of our Lord and that of
the Christian martyrs: "Hereby perceive we love, because _Christ_ laid
down his life _for us_; and we ought to lay down our lives _for the
brethren_."
Are, then, the _Gentiles alone_ beneficially affected by the death of
Christ? and is no wider efficacy _ever_ assigned to it in Scripture? The
great number of passages to which I have already applied this single
interpretation will show that I consider it as comprising _the great
leading idea_ of the Apostolic theology on this subject; nor do I think
that there is (out of the Epistle to the Hebrews, which I shall soon
notice) a single doctrinal allusion to the cross, from which this
conception is wholly absent. At the same time, I am not prepared to
maintain, that this is the _only_ view of the crucifixion and
resurrection ever present to the mind of the Apostles. Jews themselves,
they naturally inquired, how _Israel_, in particular, stood affected by
the unanticipated death of its Messiah; in what way its relations were
changed, when the offered Prince became the executed victim; and how far
matters would have been different, if, as had been expected, the
Anointed had assumed his rights and taken his power at once; and,
instead of making his first advent a mere preliminary and warning visit
"in the flesh," had set up the kingdom forthwith, and gathered with him
his few followers to "reign on the earth." Had this--instead of
submission to death, removal, and delay--been his adopted course, what
would have become of his own nation, who had rejected him,--who must
have been tried by that law which was their boast, and under which he
came,--who had long been notorious offenders against its conditions, and
now brought down its final curse by despising the claims of the
accredited Messiah? They must have been utterly "cut off," and cast out
among the "aliens from the commonwealth of Israel," "without Messiah,"
"without hope," "without God"; for while "circumcision profiteth, _if
thou keep the law_; yet if thou be a _breaker of the law_, thy
circumcision is made uncircumcision." Had he come _then_ "to be
glorified in his saints, and to be admired in all them that
believe,"--had he then been "revealed with his mighty angels" (whom he
might have summoned by "legions"),--it must have been "in flaming fire,
taking vengeance on them that knew not God, nor obeyed the glad tidings
of the Lord Jesus Christ"; to "punish with everlasting destruction from
the presence of the Lord and the glory of his power." The sins and
prospects of Israel being thus terrible, and its rejection imminent (for
Messiah was already in the midst of them), he withheld his hand; refused
to precipitate their just fate; and said, "Let us give them time, and
wait; I will go apart into the heavens, and peradventure they will
repent; only they must receive me then spiritually, and by hearty faith,
not by carnal right, admitting thus the willing Gentile with
themselves." And so he prepared to die and retire; he did not permit
them to be cut off, but was cut off himself instead; he restrained the
curse of their own law from falling on them, and rather perished himself
by a foul and accursed lot, which that same law pronounces to be the
vilest and most polluted of deaths. Thus says St. Paul to the Jews: "He
hath redeemed us from the curse of the law, being made a curse for us;
for it is written, 'Cursed is every one that hangeth on a tree.'"[18] In
this way, but for the death of the Messiah, Israel too must have been
lost; and by that event they received time for repentance, and a way for
remission of sins; found a means of reconciliation still; saw their
providence, which had been lowering for judgment, opening over them in
propitiation once more; the just had died for the unjust, to bring them
to God. What was this delay,--this suspension of judgment,--this
opportunity of return and faith,--but an instance of "the long-suffering
of God," with which "he endures the vessels of wrath (Jews) fitted to
destruction, and makes known the riches of his glory on the vessels of
mercy, which he had afore prepared unto glory"? If Christ had not
withdrawn awhile, if his power had been taken up at once, and wielded in
stern and legal justice, a deluge of judgment must have overwhelmed the
earth, and swept away both Jew and Gentile, leaving but a remnant safe.
But in mercy was the mortal life of Jesus turned into a preluding
message of notice and warning, like the tidings which Noah received of
the flood; and as the growing frame of the ark gave signal to the world
of the coming calamity, afforded an interval for repentance, and made
the patriarch, as he built, a constant "preacher of righteousness"; so
the increasing body of the Church, since the warning retreat of Christ
to heaven, proclaims the approaching "day of the Lord," admonishes that
"all should come to repentance," and fly betimes to that faith and
baptism which Messiah's death and resurrection have left as an ark of
safety. "Once, in the days of Noah, the long-suffering of God waited
while the ark was preparing, wherein few, that is, eight souls, were
saved by water: a representation, this, of the way in which baptism
(not, of course, carnal washing, but the engagement of a good conscience
with God) saves us now, _by the resurrection of Jesus Christ_; who is
gone into heaven, and is on the right hand of God; angels, and
authorities, and powers, being made subject to him." Yet "the time is
short," and must be "redeemed"; "it is the last hour"; "the Lord," "the
coming of the Lord," "the end of all things," are "at hand."
I have described _one_ aspect, which the death of the Messiah
presented to _the Jews_; and, in this, we have found another primary
conception, explanatory of the Scriptural language respecting the
cross. Of the two relations in which this event appeared (the Gentile
and the Israelitish), I believe the former to be by far the most
familiar to the New Testament authors, and to furnish the true
interpretation of almost all their phraseology on the subject. But, as
my readers may have noticed, many passages receive illustration by
reference to either notion; and some may have a meaning compounded of
both. I must not pause to make any minute adjustment of these claims,
on the part of the two interpreting ideas: it is enough that, either
separately or in union, they have now been taken round the whole
circle of apostolic language respecting the cross, and detected in
every difficult passage the presence of sense and truth, and the
absence of all hint of vicarious atonement.
It was on the _unbelieving_ portion of the Jewish people that the
death of their Messiah conferred the national blessings and
opportunities to which I have adverted. But to _the converts_ who had
been received by him during his mortal life, and who would have been
heirs of his glory, had he assumed it at once, it was less easy to
point out any personal benefits from the cross. That the Christ had
retired from this world was but a disappointing postponement of their
hopes; that he had perished as a felon was shocking to their pride,
and turned their ancient boast into a present scorn; that he had
become spiritual and immortal made him no longer theirs "as concerning
the flesh," and, by admitting Gentiles with themselves, set aside
their favorite law. So offensive to them was this unexpected slight on
the institutions of Moses, immemorially reverenced as the ordinances
of God, that it became important to give some turn to the death of
Jesus, by which that event might be harmonized with the national
system, and be shown to _effect the abrogation of the law, on
principles strictly legal_. This was the object of the writer of the
Epistle to the Hebrews; who thus gives us a third idea of the
relations of the cross,--bearing, indeed, an essential resemblance to
St. Paul's Gentile view, but illustrated in a manner altogether
different. No trace is to be observed here of Paul's noble glorying in
the cross: so studiously is every allusion to the crucifixion avoided,
till all the argumentative part of the Epistle has been completed,
that a reader finds the conclusion already in sight, without having
gained any notion of _the mode_ of the Lord's death, whether even it
was natural or violent,--a literal human sacrifice, or a voluntary
self-immolation. Its ignominy and its agonies are wholly unmentioned;
and his mortal infirmities and sufferings are explained, not as the
spontaneous adoptions of previous compassion in him, but as God's
fitting discipline for rendering him "a merciful and faithful
high-priest." They are referred to in the tone of apology, not of
pride; as needing rather to be reconciled with his office, than to be
boldly expounded as its grand essential. The object of the author
clearly is, to find a place for the death of Jesus among the Messianic
functions; and he persuades the Hebrew Christians that it is (not a
satisfaction for moral guilt, but) a commutation for the Mosaic Law.
In order to understand his argument, we must advert for a moment to
the prejudices which it was designed to conciliate and correct.
It is not easy for us to realize the feelings with which the Israelite,
in the yet palmy days of the Levitical worship, would hear of an
abrogation of the Law;--the anger and contempt with which the mere bigot
would repudiate the suggestion;--the terror with which the new convert
would make trial of his freedom;--the blank and infidel feeling with
which he would look round, and find himself drifted away from his
anchorage of ceremony;--the sinking heart with which he would hear the
reproaches of his countrymen against his apostasy. Every authoritative
ritual draws towards itself an attachment too strong for reason and the
sense of right; and transfers the feeling of obligation from realities
to symbols. Among the Hebrews this effect was the more marked and the
more pernicious, because their ceremonies were in many instances only
remotely connected with any important truth or excellent end; they were
separated by several removes from any spiritual utility. Rites were
enacted to sustain other rites; institution lay beneath institution,
through so many successive steps, that the crowning principle at the
summit easily passed out of sight. To keep alive the grand truth of the
Divine Unity, there was a gorgeous temple worship; to perform this
worship there was a priesthood; to support the priesthood there were
(among other sources of income) dues paid in the form of sacrifice; to
provide against the non-payment of dues there were penalties; to prevent
an injurious pressure of these penalties, there were exemptions, as in
cases of sickness; and to put a check on trivial claims of exemption, it
must be purchased by submission to a fee, under name of an atonement.
Wherever such a system is received as divine, and based on the same
authority with the great law of duty, it will always, by its
definiteness and precision, attract attention from graver moral
obligations. Its materiality renders it calculable: its account with the
conscience can be exactly ascertained: as it has little obvious utility
to men, it appears the more directly paid to God: it is regarded as the
special means of pleasing him, of placating his anger, and purchasing
his promises. Hence it may often happen, that the more the offences
against the spirit of duty, the more are rites multiplied in
propitiation; and the harvest of ceremonies and that of crimes ripen
together.
At a state not far from this had the Jews arrived when Christianity was
preached. Their moral sentiments were so far perverted, that they valued
nothing in themselves, in comparison with their legal exactitude, and
hated all beyond themselves for their want of this. They were eagerly
expecting the Deliverer's kingdom, nursing up their ambition for his
triumphs; curling the lip, as the lash of oppression fell upon them, in
suppressed anticipation of vengeance; satiating a temper, at once fierce
and servile, with dreams of Messiah's coming judgment, when the blood of
the patriarchs should be the title of the world's nobles, and the
everlasting reign should begin in Jerusalem. Why was the hour delayed?
they impatiently asked themselves. Was it that they had offended
Jehovah, and secretly sinned against some requirement of his law? And
then they set themselves to a renewed precision, a more slavish
punctiliousness than before. Ascribing their continued depression to
their imperfect legal obedience, they strained their ceremonialism
tighter than ever; and hoped to be soon justified from their past sins,
and ready for the mighty prince and the latter days.
What, then, must have been the feeling of the Hebrew, when told that
all his punctualities had been thrown away,--that, at the advent,
faith in Jesus, not obedience to the law, was to be the title to
admission,--and that the redeemed at that day would be, not the
scrupulous Pharisee, whose dead works would be of no avail, but all
who, with the heart, have worthily confessed the name of the Lord
Jesus? What doctrine could be more unwelcome to the haughty Israelite?
it dashed his pride of ancestry to the ground. It brought to the same
level with himself the polluted Gentile,--whose presence would alone
render all unclean in the Messiah's kingdom. It proved his past ritual
anxieties to have been all wasted. It cast aside for the future the
venerated law; left it in neglect to die; and made all the apparatus
of Providence for its maintenance end in absolutely nothing. Was then
the Messiah to supersede, and not to vindicate, the law? How different
this from the picture which prophets had drawn of his golden age, when
Jerusalem was to be the pride of the earth, and her temple the praise
of nations, sought by the feet of countless pilgrims, and decked with
the splendor of their gifts! How could a true Hebrew be justified in a
life without law? How think himself safe in a profession, which was
without temple, without priest, without altar, without victim?
Not unnaturally, then, did the Hebrews regard with reluctance two of the
leading features of Christianity; the death of the Messiah, and the
freedom from the law. The Epistle addressed to them was designed to
soothe their uneasiness, and to show that, if the Mosaic institutions
were superseded, it was in conformity with principles and analogies
contained within themselves. With great address, the writer links the
two difficulties together, and makes the one explain the other. He finds
a ready means of effecting this, in the sacrificial ideas familiar to
every Hebrew; for by representing the death of Jesus as a commutation
for legal observances, he is only ascribing to it an operation
acknowledged to have place in the death of every lamb slain as a
sin-offering at the altar. These offerings were a distinct recognition,
on the part of the Levitical code, of a principle of _equivalents_ for
its ordinances; a proof that, under certain conditions, they might
yield: nothing more, therefore, was necessary, than to show that the
death of Christ established those conditions. And such a method of
argument was attended by this advantage, that, while the _practical end_
would be obtained of terminating all ceremonial observance, the law was
yet treated as _in theory_ perpetual; not as ignominiously abrogated,
but as legitimately commuted. Just as the Israelite, in paying his
offering at the altar to compensate for ritual omissions, recognized
thereby the claims of the law, while he obtained impunity for its
neglect; so, if Providence could be shown to have provided a legal
substitute for the system, its authority was acknowledged at the moment
that its abolition was secured.
Let us advert, then, to the functions of the Mosaic sin-offerings, to
which the writer has recourse to illustrate his main position. They
were of the nature of a _mulct or acknowledgment rendered for
unconscious or inevitable disregard of ceremonial liabilities, and
contraction of ceremonial uncleanness_. Such uncleanness might be
incurred from various causes; and, while unremoved by the appointed
methods of purification, disqualified from attendance at the
sanctuary, and "cut off" "the guilty" "from among the congregation."
To touch a dead body, to enter a tent where a corpse lay, rendered a
person "unclean for seven days"; to come in contact with a forbidden
animal, a bone, a grave, to be next to any one struck with sudden
death, to be afflicted with certain kinds of bodily disease and
infirmity, unwittingly to lay a finger on a person unclean, occasioned
defilement, and necessitated a purification or an atonement.
Independently of these offences, enforced upon the Israelite by the
accidents of life, it was not easy for even the most cautious
worshipper to keep pace with the complicated series of petty debts
which the law of ordinances was always running up against him. If his
offering had an invisible blemish; if he omitted a tithe, because "he
wist it not"; or inadvertently fell into arrear, by a single day, with
respect to a known liability; if absent from disease, he was compelled
to let his ritual account accumulate; "though it be hidden from him,"
he must "be guilty, and bear his iniquity," and bring his victim. On
the birth of a child, the mother, after the lapse of a prescribed
period, made her pilgrimage to the temple, presented her sin-offering,
and "the priest made atonement for her." The poor leper, long banished
from the face of men, and unclean by the nature of his disease, became
a debtor to the sanctuary, and on return from his tedious quarantine
brought his lamb of atonement, and departed thence, clear from
neglected obligations to his law. It was impossible, however, to
provide by specific enactment for every case of ritual transgression
and impurity, arising from inadvertence or necessity. Scarcely could
it be expected that the courts of worship themselves would escape
defilement, from imperfections in the offerings, or unconscious
disqualification in people or in priest. To clear off the whole
invisible residue of such sins, an annual "day of atonement" was
appointed; the people thronged the avenues and approaches of the
tabernacle; in their presence a kid was slain for their own
transgressions, and for the high-priest the more dignified expiation
of a heifer; charged with the blood of each successively, he sprinkled
not only the exterior altar open to the sky, but, passing through the
first and holy chamber into the Holy of Holies (never entered else),
he touched, with finger dipped in blood, the sacred lid (the
Mercy-seat) and foreground of the Ark. At that moment, while he yet
lingers behind the veil, the purification is complete; on no
worshipper of Israel does any legal unholiness rest; and were it
possible for the high-priest to remain in that interior retreat of
Jehovah, still protracting the expiatory act, so long would this
national purity continue, and the debt of ordinances be effaced as it
arose. But he must return; the sanctifying rite must end; the people
be dismissed; the priests resume the daily ministrations; the law open
its stern account afresh; and in the mixture of national exactitude
and neglects, defilements multiply again till the recurring
anniversary lifts off the burden once more. Every year, then, the
necessity comes round of "making atonement for the holy sanctuary,"
"for the tabernacle," "for the altar," "for the priests, and for all
the people of the congregation." Yet, though requiring periodical
renewal, the rite, so far as it went, had an efficacy which no Hebrew
could deny; for ceremonial sins, unconscious or inevitable (to which
all atonement was limited[19]), it was accepted as an indemnity; and
put it beyond doubt that Mosaic obedience was commutable.
Such was the system of ideas, by availing himself of which the author
of the Epistle to the Hebrews would persuade his correspondents to
forsake their legal observances. "You can look without uneasiness," he
suggests, "on your ritual omissions, when the blood of some victim
has been presented instead, and the penetralia of your sanctuary have
been sprinkled with the offering: well, on no other terms would I
soothe your anxiety; precisely such equivalent sacrifice does
Christianity exhibit, only of so peculiar a nature, that, for _all_
ceremonial neglects, intentional no less than inadvertent, you may
rely upon indemnity." The Jews entertained a belief respecting their
temple, which enabled the writer to give a singular force and
precision to his analogy. They conceived that the tabernacle of their
worship was but the copy of a divine structure, devised by God
himself, made by no created hand, and preserved eternally in heaven:
this was "the true tabernacle, which the Lord pitched, and not man";
which no mortal had beheld, except Moses in the mount, that he might
"make all things according to that pattern"; within whose Holy of
Holies dwelt no emblem or emanation of God's presence, but his own
immediate Spirit; and the celestial furniture of which required, in
proportion to its dignity, the purification of a nobler sacrifice, and
the ministrations of a diviner priest, than befitted the "worldly
sanctuary" below. And who then can mistake the meaning of Christ's
departure from this world, or doubt what office he conducts above? He
is called by his ascension to the pontificate of heaven; consecrated,
"not after the law of any carnal commandment, but after the power of
an endless life"; he drew aside the veil of his mortality, and passed
into the inmost court of God: and as he must needs "have somewhat to
offer," he takes the only blood he had ever shed,--which was his
own,--and, like the High-Priest before the Mercy-seat, sanctifies
therewith the people that stand without, "redeeming the
transgressions" which "the first covenant" of rites entailed. And he
has not returned; still is he hid within that holiest place; and still
the multitude he serves turn thither a silent and expectant gaze; he
prolongs the purification still; and while he appears not, no other
rites can be resumed, nor any legal defilement be contracted. Thus,
meanwhile, ordinances cease their obligation, and the sin against them
has lost its power. How different this from the offerings of
Jerusalem, whose temple was but the "symbol and shadow" of that
sanctuary above. In the Hebrew "sacrifices there was a remembrance
again made of sins every year"; "the high-priest annually entered the
holy place"; being but a mortal, he could not go in with his own blood
and _remain_, but must take that of other creatures and _return_; and
hence it became "not possible that the blood of bulls and of goats
should _take away_ sins," for instantly they began to accumulate
again. But to the very nature of Christ's offering a perpetuity of
efficacy belongs; bearing no other than "_his own_ blood," he was
immortal when his ministration began, and "ever liveth to make his
intercession"; he could "not offer himself often, for then must he
often have suffered since the foundation of the world,"--and "it is
appointed unto men _only once_ to die"; so that "_once for all_ he
entered into the holy place, and obtained a redemption that is
_perpetual_"; "_once_ in the end of the world hath he appeared, and by
sacrificing himself hath absolutely _put away_ sin"; "this man, after
he had offered one sacrifice for sins, for ever sat down on the right
hand of God," "for by one offering he hath perfected for ever them
that are sanctified." The ceremonial, then, with its periodical
transgressions and atonements, is suspended; the services of the outer
tabernacle cease, for the holiest of all is made manifest; one who is
"priest for ever" dwells therein;--one "consecrated for evermore,"
"holy, harmless, undefiled, in his celestial dwelling quite separate
from sinners; who needeth not _daily_, as those high-priests, to offer
up sacrifice, first for his own sins, and then for the people's; for
this he did _once for all_ when he offered up himself."[20]
Nor is it in its perpetuity alone that the efficacy of the Christian
sacrifice transcends the atonements of the law; it removes a higher
order of ritual transgressions. It cannot be supposed, indeed, that
Messiah's life is no nobler offering than that of a creature from the
herd or flock, and will confer no more immunity. Accordingly, it goes
beyond those "_sins of ignorance_," those ceremonial inadvertences,
for which alone there was remission in Israel; and reaches to
_voluntary_ neglects of the sacerdotal ordinances; insuring indemnity
for legal omissions, when incurred not simply by the accidents of the
flesh, but even by intention of the conscience. This is no greater
boon than the dignity of the sacrifice requires; and does but give to
his people below that living relation of soul to God which he himself
sustains above. "If the blood of bulls and of goats ... sanctifieth to
the purifying of the flesh, how much more shall the blood of Christ,
who through the eternal Spirit offered himself without spot to God,
purify (even) your conscience from dead works (ritual observances) to
serve the living God!" Let then the ordinances go, and the Lord "put
his laws _into the mind_, and write them _in the heart_"; and let all
have "boldness to enter into the holiest by the blood of Jesus, by
this new and living way which he hath consecrated for us"; "provoking
each other to love and to good works."
See, then, in brief, the objection of the Hebrews to the Gospel; and the
reply of their instructor. They said: "What a blank is this; you have no
temple, no priest, no ritual! How is it that, in his ancient covenant,
God is so strict about ceremonial service, and permits no neglect,
however incidental, without atonement; yet in this new economy throws
the whole system away, letting us run up an everlasting debt to a law
confessedly unrepealed, without redemption of it or atonement for it?"
"Not without redemption and atonement," replies their evangelical
teacher; "temple, sacrifice, priest, remain to us also, only glorified
into proportions worthy of a heavenly dispensation; our temple, in the
skies; our sacrifice, Messiah's mortal person; our priest, his
ever-living spirit. How poor the efficacy of your former offerings!
year after year, your ritual debt began again: for the blood dried and
vanished from the tabernacle which it purified; the priest returned
from the inner shrine; and when there, he stood, with the interceding
blood, before the emblem, not the reality, of God. But Christ, not at
the end of a year, but at the end of the great world-era of the Lord,
has come to offer up himself,--no lamb so unblemished as he; his
voluntary and immortal spirit, than which was nothing ever more
divinely consecrate, becomes officiating priest, and strikes his own
person with immolating blow; it falls and bleeds on earth, as on the
outer altar, standing on the threshold of the sanctuary of heaven:
thither he ascends with the memorials of his death, vanishes into the
Holy of Holies of the skies, presents himself before the very living
God, and sanctifies the temple there and worshippers here; saying to
us, 'Drop now for ever the legal burdens that weigh you down; doubt
not that you are free, as my glorified spirit here, from the
defilements you are wont to dread; I stay behind this veil of visible
things, to clear you of all such taint, and put away such sin
eternally. Trust, then, in me, and take up the freedom of your souls:
burst the dead works, that cling round your conscience like cerements
of the grave; and rise to me, by the living power of duty, and a
loving allegiance to God.'"
So far, then, as the death of Christ is treated in Scripture
dogmatically, rather than historically, its effects are viewed in
contrast with the different order of things which must have been
expected, had he, as Messiah, _not_ died. And thus regarded, it
presented itself to the minds of the Apostles in three relations:--
First, to the Gentiles, whom it drew in to be subjects of the Messiah,
by breaking down the barriers of his Hebrew personality, and
rendering him spiritual as well as immortal.
Secondly, to the unbelieving Jews; whom his retirement from this world
delivered from the judgment due to them, on the principles of their own
law, both for their _general_ violation of the _conditions_ of their
covenant, and for their positive rejection of him. His absence reopened
their opportunities; and to tender them this act of long-suffering, he
took on himself the death which had been incurred by them.
Thirdly, to the believing Jews; the terms of whose discipleship the
Messiah's death had changed, destroying all the benefits of their
lineage, and substituting an act of the mind, the simpler claim of
faith. It was therefore a commutation for the Ritual Law, and gave
them impunity and atonement for all its violations.
With the last two of these relations, beyond their remarkable
historical interest, we have no personal concern. The first remains,
and ever will remain, worthy of the glorious joy with which Paul
regarded and expounded it. God has committed the rule of this world to
no exclusive prince, and no sacerdotal power, and no earthly majesty;
but to one whose spirit, too divine to be limited to place and time,
broke through clouds of sorrow into the clearest heaven; and thither
has since been drawing our human love, though for ages now he has been
unseen and immortal. An impartial God, a holy and spiritual law, an
infinite hope for all men, are given to us by that generous cross.
It is evident that all three of the relations which I have described
belonged to the death of Jesus, _in his capacity of Messiah_; and could
have had no existence if he had not borne this character, but had been
simply a private martyr to his convictions. The foregoing exposition
gives a direct answer to the inquiry, pressed without the slightest
pertinence upon the Unitarian, why the phraseology of the cross is never
found applied to Paul or Peter, or any other noble confessor, who died
in attestation of the truth; why "no record is given that we are
justified by the blood of Stephen; or that he bare our sins in his own
body, and made reconciliation for us."[22] I know not why such a
question should be submitted to us; we have assuredly no concern with
it; having never dreamt that the Apostles could have written as they did
respecting the death on Calvary, if they had thought of it only as a
scene of martyrdom. We have passed under review the whole language of
the New Testament on this subject; and in the interpretation of it have
_not even once_ had recourse to this, which is said to be our only view
of the cross. We have seen the Apostles justly announcing their Lord's
death as a _proper propitiation_; because it placed whole classes of
men, without any meritorious change in their character, in saving
relations: declaring it a _strict substitute_ for others' punishment; on
the ground that there were those who must have perished, if he had not;
and that he died and retired, that they might remain and live:
describing it as a _sacrifice which put away sin_; because it did that
for ever, which the Levitical atonements achieved for a day: but we have
not found them ever appealing to it either as a satisfaction to the
justice of God, or an example of martyrdom to men. The Trinitarians have
one idea of this event themselves; and their fancy provides their
opponents with one idea of it; of the former not a trace exists, on any
page of Scripture; and of the latter the Unitarian need not avail
himself at all, in explaining the language whereof it is said to be his
solitary key.
Nowhere, then, in Scripture do we meet with anything corresponding
with the prevailing notions of vicarious redemption; everywhere, and
most emphatically in the personal instructions of our Lord, do we find
a doctrine of forgiveness, and an idea of salvation, utterly
inconsistent with it. He spake often of the unqualified clemency of
God to his returning children; never once of the satisfaction demanded
by his justice. He spake of the joy in heaven over one sinner that
repenteth; but was silent on the sacrificial faith, without which
penitence is said to be unavailing. Nor did he, like his modern
disciples, teach that there are _two separate salvations_, which must
follow each other in a fixed order: first, redemption from the
penalty, secondly, from the spirit, of sin; pardon for the past,
before sanctification in the present; a removal of the "hinderance in
God," previous to its annihilation in ourselves. If indeed there were
in Christianity two deliverances, discriminated and successive, it
would be more in accordance with its spirit to invert this order;--to
recall from alienation first, and announce forgiveness afterwards; to
restore from guilt, before cancelling the penalty; and permit the
_healing_ to anticipate the _pardoning_ love. At least, there would
seem, in such arrangement, to be a greater jealousy for the holiness
of the divine law, a severer reservation of God's complacency for
those who have broken from the service of sin, than in the system
which proclaims impunity to the rebel will, ere yet its estrangement
is renounced. If the outward remission precedes the inward
sanctification, then does God admit to favor the yet unsanctified;
guilt keeps us in no exile from him: and though the Holy Spirit is to
follow afterwards, it becomes the peculiar office of the cross to lift
us as we are, with every stain upon the soul and every vile habit
unretraced, from the brink of perdition to the assurance of glory: the
divine lot is given to us, before the divine love is awakened in us;
and the heirs of heaven have yet to become the children of holiness.
With what consistency can the advocates of such an economy accuse its
opponents of dealing lightly with sin, of deluding men into a false
trust, and administering seductive flatteries to human nature?[23]
What! shall we, who plant in every soul of sin a hell, whence no
foreign force, no external God, can pluck us, any more than they can
tear us from our identity,--we, who hide the fires of torment in no
viewless gulf, but make them ubiquitous as guilt,--we, who suffer no
outward agent from Eden, or the Abyss, or Calvary, to encroach upon
the solitude of man's responsibility, and confuse the simplicity of
conscience,--we, who teach that God will not, and even cannot, spare
the froward, till they be froward no more, but must permit the burning
lash to fall, till they cry aloud for mercy, and throw themselves
freely into his embrace;--shall we be rebuked for a lax administration
of peace, by those who think that a moment may turn the alien into the
elect? It is no flattery of our nature, to reverence deeply its moral
capacities: we only discern in them the more solemn trust, and see in
their abuse the fouler shame. And it is not of what men _are_, but of
what they _might be_, that we encourage noble and cheerful thoughts.
Doubtless, we think exaggeration possible (which our opponents
apparently do not) even in the portraiture of their actual character:
and perhaps we are not the less likely to awaken true convictions of
sin, that we strive to speak of it with the voice of discriminative
justice, instead of the monotonous thunders of vengeance; and to draw
its image in the natural tints provided by the conscience, rather than
in the preternatural flame-color mingled in the crucibles of hell.
In making _penal_ redemption and _moral_ redemption separate and
successive, the vicarious scheme, we submit, is inconsistent with the
Christian idea of salvation. Not that we take the second, and reject
the first, as our Trinitarian friends imagine; nor that we invert
their order. We accept them both; putting them, however, not in
succession, but in super-position, so that they coalesce. The power
and the punishment of sin perish together; and together begin the
holiness and the bliss of heaven. Whatever extracts the poison cools
the sting: nor can the divine vigor of spiritual health enter, without
its freedom and its joy. That there can be any separate dealings with
our past guilt and with our present character, is not a truth of God,
but a fiction of the schools. The sanctification of the one is the
redemption of the other. The mind given up to passion, or chained to
self, or anyhow alienated from the love and life divine, dwells,
whatever be its faith, in the dark and terrible abyss; while he, and
he only, that, in the freedom and tranquillity of great affections,
communes with God and toils for men, understands the meaning, and wins
the promises, of heaven. Am I asked: "What, then, is to persuade the
sinful heart thus to draw near to God;--what, but a proclamation of
absolute pardon, can break down the secret distrust, which keeps our
nature back, wrapped in the reserve of conscious guilt?" I reply;
however much these fears and hesitations might cling round us, and
restrain us from the mystic Deity of Nature, they can have no place in
our intercourse with the Father whom Jesus represents. It needs only
that Christ be truly his image, to know "that the hinderance is not
with him, but entirely in ourselves";[24] to see that there is no
anger in his look; to feel that he invites us to unreserved
confession, and accepts our self-abandonment to him,--that he lifts
the repentant, prostrate at his feet, and speaks the words of severe,
but truest hope. Am I told, "that only the gratitude excited by
personal rescue from tremendous danger, by an unconditional and entire
deliverance, is capable of winning our reluctant nature, of opening
the soul to the access of the Divine Spirit, and bringing it to the
service of the Everlasting Will"? I rejoice to acknowledge, that
_some_ such disinterested power must be awakened, some mighty forces
of the heart be called out, ere the regeneration can take place that
renders us children of the Highest; ere we can break, with true new
birth, from the shell of self, and try and train our wings in the
atmosphere of God. The permanent work of duty must be wrought by the
affections; not by the constraint, however solemn, of hope and fear;
no self-perfectionating process, elaborated by an anxious will, has
warmth enough to ripen the soul's diviner fruits; the walks of outward
morality, and the slopes of deliberate meditation, it may keep smooth
and trim; but cannot make the true life-blossoms set, as in a garden
of the Lord, and the foliage wave as with the voice of God among the
trees. I gladly admit that, to a believer in the vicarious sacrifice,
the sense of pardon, the love of the Great Deliverer, may well fulfil
this blessed office, of carrying him out of himself in genuine
allegiance to a being most benign and holy. And perceiving that, if
this doctrine were removed, there is not, _in the system of which it
forms a part_, and which else would be all terror, anything that could
perform the same generous part, I can understand why it seems to its
advocates an _essential_ power in the renovation of the character. But
great as it may be, within the limits of its own narrow scheme, ideas
possessed of higher moral efficacy are not wanting, when we pass into
a region of nobler and more Christian thought. Shall we say that the
view of the Infinite Ruler, given in the spoken wisdom or the living
spirit of Christ, has no sanctifying power? Yet where is there any
trace in it of the satisfactionist's redemption? When we sit at
Messiah's feet, that transforming gratitude for an extinguished
penalty, on which the prevailing theology insists, as its central
emotion, becomes replaced by a similar and profounder sentiment
towards the Eternal Father. If to rescue men from a dreadful fate in
the future be a just title to our reverence, _never to have designed_
that fate claims an affection yet more devoted; if there be a divine
mercy in annihilating an awful curse, in shedding only blessing there
is surely a diviner still. Shall the love restored to us after long
delay, and in consideration of an equivalent, work mightily on the
heart,--and shall that which asked no purchase, which has been veiled
by no cloud, which has enfolded us always in its tranquillity, nor can
ever quit the soul opened to receive it, fail to penetrate the
conscience, and dissolve the frosts of our self-love by some holier
flame? Never shall it be found true, that God must threaten us with
vengeance, ere we can feel the shelter of his grace!
In truth, the Christian idea of salvation cannot be better
illustrated, than by the doubt which has been entertained respecting
the proper translation of my text. Some, referring it to spiritual
redemption, adhere to the common version; others, seeing that the
Apostle Peter is explaining "by what power or by what name" he had
cured the lame man at the temple gate, refer the words to this miracle
of deliverance, and render them thus: "Neither is there _healing_ in
any other; for there is none other name under heaven given among men,
whereby we can be _healed_." It matters little which it is; for
whether we speak of body or of mind, Jesus "_saves_" us by "_making us
whole_"; by putting forth upon us a divine and healing power, by which
past suffering and present decrepitude disappear together; which
supplies the defective elements of our nature, cools the burning of
inward fever, or calls into being new senses and perceptions, opening
a diviner universe to our experience. The deformed and crooked will,
bowed by Satan, lo! these many years, and nowise able to lift up
itself, he loosens and makes straight in uprightness. The moral
paralytic, collapsed and prostrate amid the stir of life, and
incapably gazing on the moving waters in which others find their
health, has often started up at the summons of that voice, though
perchance "he wist not who it was"; and, going his way, has found it
to be "the sabbath," and owned the "work" of one who is in the spirit
of "the Father." From the eye long dark and blind to duty and to God,
he has caused the film to pass away; and shown the solemn look of life
beneath a heaven so tranquil and sublime. Even the dead of soul, close
wrapped in bandages of selfishness,--that greediest of graves,--have
been quickened by his piercing call, and have come forth, to learn,
"when risen," that only in the meekness that can obey is there the
power to command, only in the love that serves is there the life of
heart-felt liberty. To call, then, on the name and trust in the spirit
of Christ, is to invoke the restoring power of God; to give symmetry
and speed to our lame affections, and the vigor of an athlete to our
limping wills. There is not any Christian _salvation_ that is not thus
identical with Christian _perfection_: "nor any other name under
heaven given among men, whereby we may be (thus) _made whole_." Let
all that would "be perfect be thus minded"; seek "the measure of the
stature of the fulness of Christ"; and they shall find in him a "power
to become the sons of God."