CHAPTER I

[Illustration: titlepage]

Life and Times

of David

_Miscellaneous Writings of_

C. H. MACKINTOSH

_Volume VI_

LOIZEAUX BROTHERS

_New York_

FIRST EDITION 1898

TENTH PRINTING 1960

LOIZEAUX BROTHERS, INC., PUBLISHERS

_A Nonprofit Organization, Devoted to the Lord's Work

and to the Spread of His Truth_

19 WEST 21ST STREET, NEW YORK 10, N. Y.

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

CONTENTS

Pages

CHRIST IN THE VESSEL, 5-13

BETHANY, 14-55

LOVE DIVINE--_Poem_

RESTORATION, 1-24

JERICHO AND ACHOR, 1-39

A SACRED UNION--_Poem_

THE THREE APPEARINGS, 1-26

THE TWO "MUSTS", 1-4

THE THRONE AND THE ALTAR, 1-12

LEGALITY AND LEVITY, 1-5

THE VEIL IS RENT--_Poem_

A RISEN SAVIOUR'S CHALLENGE, 1-12

THE REMNANT: PAST AND PRESENT, 1-32

THE LIFE AND TIMES OF DAVID, 1-204

_The original numbering of these writings has been retained. Many of

the above may be had separately in pamphlet form._

CHRIST IN THE VESSEL

(Mark iv. 35-41.)

"Man's extremity is God's opportunity." This is a very familiar

saying. It often passes among us; and, no doubt, we fully believe it;

but yet, when we find ourselves brought to _our_ extremity, we are

often very little prepared to count on _God's_ opportunity. It is one

thing to utter or hearken to a truth, and another thing to realize the

power of that truth. It is one thing, when sailing over a calm sea, to

speak of God's ability to keep us in the storm, and it is another

thing altogether to prove that ability when the storm is actually

raging around us. And yet God is ever the same. In the storm and in

the calm, in sickness and in health, in pressure and in ease, in

poverty and in abundance, "the same yesterday, and to-day, and

forever"--the same grand reality for faith to lean upon, cling to and

draw upon, at all times and under all circumstances.

But alas, alas, we are unbelieving! Here lies the source of weakness

and failure. We are perplexed and agitated, when we ought to be calm

and confiding; we are casting about, when we ought to be counting on

God; we are "beckoning to our partners," when we ought to be "looking

unto Jesus." Thus it is we lose immensely, and dishonor the Lord in

our ways. Doubtless there are few things for which we have to be more

deeply humbled than our tendency to distrust the Lord when

difficulties and trials present themselves; and assuredly we grieve

the heart of Jesus by thus distrusting Him, for distrust must always

wound a loving heart. Look, for example, at the scene between Joseph

and his brethren in Gen. 50: "And when Joseph's brethren saw that

their father was dead, they said, Joseph will peradventure hate us,

and will certainly requite us all the evil which we did unto him. And

they sent a messenger unto Joseph, saying, Thy father did command

before he died, saying, So shall ye say unto Joseph, Forgive, I pray

thee now, the trespass of thy brethren, and their sin; for they did

unto thee evil: and now, we pray thee, forgive the trespass of the

servants of the God of thy father. And Joseph wept when they spake

unto him."

It was a sad return for the love and tender care which Joseph had

exercised towards them. How could they suppose that one who had so

freely and fully forgiven them, and spared their lives when they were

entirely in his power, would, after so many years of kindness, turn

upon them in anger and revenge? It was indeed a grievous wrong, and it

was no marvel that "Joseph wept when they spake unto him." What an

answer to all their unworthy fear and dark suspicion! A flood of

tears! Such is love! "And Joseph said unto them, Fear not: for am I in

the place of God? But as for you, ye thought evil against me; but God

meant it unto good, to bring to pass, as it is this day, to save much

people alive. Now therefore, fear ye not: _I will nourish you, and

your little ones_. And he comforted them, and spake kindly unto them."

Thus was it with the disciples on the occasion to which our paper

refers. Let us meditate a little on the passage.

"And the same day, when the even was come, Jesus saith unto them, Let

us pass over unto the other side. And when they had sent away the

multitude, they took Him even as He was in the ship; and there were

also with Him other little ships. And there arose a great storm of

wind, and the waves beat into the ship, so that it was now full. And

He was in the hinder part of the ship, asleep on a pillow."

Here, then, we have an interesting and instructive scene. The poor

disciples are brought to their extremity. They are at their wits' end.

A violent storm--the ship full of water--the Master asleep. This was a

trying moment indeed, and assuredly we, if we look at ourselves, need

not marvel at the fear and agitation of the disciples. It is not

likely that we should have done better had we been there. Still, we

cannot but see wherein they failed. The narrative has been penned for

our learning, and we are bound to study it, and seek to learn the

lesson which it reads out to us.

There is nothing more absurd and irrational than unbelief when we come

to look at it calmly. In the scene before us this absurdity is very

apparent; for what could be more absurd than to suppose that the

vessel could possibly sink with the Son of God on board? And yet this

was what they feared. It may be said they did not just think of the

Son of God at that moment. True, they thought of the storm, the waves,

the filling vessel, and, judging after the manner of men, it seemed a

hopeless case. Thus it is the unbelieving heart ever reasons. It looks

only at the circumstances, and leaves God out. Faith, on the contrary,

looks only at God, and leaves circumstances out.

What a difference! Faith delights in man's extremity, simply because

it is God's opportunity. It delights in being "shut up" to God--in

having the platform thoroughly cleared of the creature, in order that

God may display His glory--in the multiplying of "empty vessels," in

order that God may fill them. Such is faith. It would, we may surely

say, have enabled the disciples to lie down and sleep beside their

Master in the midst of the storm. Unbelief, on the other hand,

rendered them uneasy; they could not rest themselves, and they

actually aroused the blessed Lord out of His sleep by their

unbelieving apprehensions. He, weary with incessant toil, was

snatching a few moments' repose while the vessel was crossing the sea.

He knew what fatigue was; He had come down into all our circumstances.

He made Himself acquainted with all our feelings and all our

infirmities, being in all points tempted like as we are, sin

excepted.

He was found as a man in every respect, and as such He slept on a

pillow, rocked by the waves of the sea. The storm and the billows beat

upon the vessel, although the Creator was on board, in the person of

that weary, sleeping Workman.

Profound mystery! The One who made the sea, and could hold the winds

in His almighty grasp, lay sleeping in the hinder part of the ship,

and allowed the sea and the wind to treat Him as unceremoniously as

though He were an ordinary man. Such was the reality of the human

nature of our blessed Lord. He was weary--He slept, being tossed on

the bosom of that sea which His hands had made. O reader, pause and

meditate on this wondrous sight. Look closely, think upon it. We

cannot expatiate upon the scene; we can only muse and worship.

But, as we have said, unbelief roused the blessed Lord out of His

sleep. "They awake Him, and say unto Him, Master, _carest Thou_ not

that we perish?" What a question! "_Carest Thou not?_" How it must

have wounded the sensitive heart of the Lord! How could they ever

think that He was indifferent to their trouble and danger? How

completely must they have lost sight of His love, to say nothing of

His power, when they could bring themselves to say, "Carest Thou not?"

And yet, dear Christian reader, have we not in all this a mirror in

which to see ourselves reflected? Assuredly we have. How often, in

moments of pressure and trial, do our hearts conceive, if our lips do

not utter the question, "Carest Thou not?" It may be we are laid on a

bed of sickness and pain, and we know that one word from the God of

all power and might could chase away the malady and raise us up; and

yet the word is withheld. Or perhaps we are in need of temporal

supplies, and we know that the silver and gold, and the cattle upon a

thousand hills, belong to God--yea, that the treasures of the universe

are under His hand--and yet day after day rolls on, and our need is

not supplied. In a word, we are passing through deep waters, in some

way or another; the storm rages, wave after wave rolls over our tiny

vessel, we are brought to our extremity, we are at our wits' end, and

our hearts often feel ready to send up the terrible question, "Carest

Thou not?" The thought of this is deeply humbling. To think of our

grieving the loving heart of Jesus by our unbelief and suspicion

should fill us with the deepest contrition.

And then the absurdity of unbelief! How can that One who gave His life

for us--who left His glory and came down into this world of toil and

misery and died a shameful death to deliver us from eternal wrath--how

can such a One ever fail to care for us? But yet we are ready to

doubt, or we grow impatient under the trial of our faith, forgetting

that the very trial from which we so shrink and under which we so

wince is far more precious than gold, for the former is an

imperishable reality, whereas the latter must perish in the using. The

more genuine faith is tried, the brighter it shines; and hence the

trial, however severe, is sure to issue in praise and honor and glory

to Him who not only implants the faith, but also passes it through the

furnace and sedulously watches it therein.

But the poor disciples failed in the moment of trial. Their confidence

gave way, they roused their Master from His slumber with that most

unworthy question, "Carest Thou not that we perish?" Alas, what

creatures we are! We are ready to forget ten thousand mercies in the

presence of a single difficulty. David could say, "I shall one day

perish by the hand of Saul;" and how did it turn out? Saul fell on

Mount Gilboa, and David was established on the throne of Israel.

Elijah fled for his life at the threat of Jezebel; and what was the

issue? Jezebel was dashed to pieces on the pavement, and Elijah was

taken to heaven in a chariot of fire. So here, the disciples thought

they were going to be lost, with the Son of God on board; and what was

the result? The storm was hushed into silence, and the sea became as

glass, by that Voice which of old had called worlds into existence.

"And He arose and rebuked the wind, and said unto the sea, Peace, be

still. And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm."

What a combination of grace and majesty is here! Instead of rebuking

them for having disturbed His repose, He rebukes those elements which

had terrified them. It was thus He replied to their question, "Carest

Thou not?" Blessed Master! Who would not trust Thee? Who would not

adore Thee for Thy patient grace and unupbraiding love?

There is something perfectly beautiful in the way in which our blessed

Lord rises, without an effort, from the repose of perfect humanity

into the activity of essential deity. As man, wearied with His work,

He slept on a pillow; as God, He rises, and, with His almighty voice,

hushes the storm and calms the sea.

Such was Jesus--very God and very man--and such He is now, ever ready

to meet His people's need, to hush their anxieties and remove their

fears. Oh that we trusted Him more simply! We have little idea of how

much we lose by not leaning more on the arm of Jesus, day by day. We

are so easily terrified. Every breath of wind, every wave, every

cloud, agitates and depresses us. Instead of calmly lying down and

reposing beside our Lord, we are full of terror and perplexity.

Instead of using the storm as an occasion for trusting Him, we make it

an occasion for doubting Him. No sooner does some trifling trouble

arise than we think we are going to perish, although He assures us

that He has numbered the very hairs of our head. Well may He say to us

as He said to His disciples, "Why are ye so fearful? How is it that ye

have no faith?" It would indeed seem at times as though we had _no_

faith. But oh, _His_ tender love! He is ever near to shield and succor

us, even though our unbelieving hearts are so ready to doubt His Word.

He does not deal with us according to our poor thoughts of Him, but

according to His own perfect love toward us. This is the solace and

stay of our souls in passing across life's stormy sea homeward to our

eternal rest. Christ is in the vessel. Let this ever suffice. Let us

calmly rely on Him. May there ever be, at the very centre of our

hearts, that deep repose which springs from real trust in Jesus! and

then, though the storm rage and the sea run mountains high, we shall

not be led to say, "Carest Thou not that we perish?" Is it possible we

can perish with the Master on board? or can we ever think so with

Christ in our hearts? May the Holy Spirit teach us to make a fuller,

freer, bolder use of Christ! We really want this just now, and shall

want it more and more. It must be Christ Himself, laid hold of and

enjoyed in the heart by faith. Thus may it be to His praise and our

abiding peace and joy!

We may just notice, in conclusion, the way in which the disciples were

affected by the scene on which we have been dwelling. Instead of the

calm worship of those whose faith had been answered, they manifest the

amazement of those whose fears had been rebuked. "They feared

exceedingly, and said one to another, What manner of man is this, that

even the wind and the sea obey Him?" Surely they ought to have known

Him better. Yes, Christian reader, and so should we.

BETHANY

(John xi; xii.)

Turn with us, dear reader, to John xi; xii; and if we mistake not, you

will find therein a very rare spiritual treat. In chapter xi. we see

what the Lord Jesus was to the family of Bethany; and in chapter xii

we see what the family of Bethany was to Him. The entire passage is

full of the most precious instruction.

In chapter xi we have three great subjects presented to us, namely,

first, our Lord's own path with the Father; secondly, His profound

sympathy with His people; and, thirdly, His grace in associating us

with Himself in His work, in so far as that is possible.

"Now a certain man was sick, named Lazarus, of Bethany, the town of

Mary and her sister Martha. (It was that Mary which anointed the Lord

with ointment, and wiped His feet with her hair, whose brother Lazarus

was sick.) Therefore his sisters sent unto Him, saying, Lord, behold,

he whom Thou lovest is sick. When Jesus heard that, He said, This

sickness is not unto death, but for the glory of God, that the Son of

God might be glorified thereby."

The sisters, in their time of trouble, turned to the true

Source--their divine Friend: Jesus was a sure resource for them, as

He is for all His tried ones wherever, however, or whoever they are.

"Call upon Me in the time of trouble; I will deliver thee, and thou

shalt glorify Me." We make a most serious mistake when, in any time of

need or pressure, we turn to the creature for help or sympathy. We are

sure to be disappointed. Creature-streams are dry. Creature-props give

way. Our God will make us prove the vanity and folly of all

creature-confidences, human hopes, and earthly expectations. And on

the other hand, He will prove to us, in the most touching and forcible

manner, the truth and blessedness of His own word, "They shall not be

ashamed that wait for Me."

No, never! He, blessed be His name, never fails a trusting heart. He

cannot deny Himself. He delights to take occasion from our wants, our

woes and weaknesses, to express and illustrate His tender care and

lovingkindness, in a thousand ways. But He will teach us the utter

barrenness of all human resources. "Thus saith the Lord; Cursed be the

man that trusteth in man, and maketh flesh his arm, and whose heart

departeth from the Lord. For he shall be like the heath in the desert,

and shall not see when good cometh; but shall inhabit the parched

places in the wilderness, in a salt land and not inhabited."

Thus it must ever be. Disappointment, barrenness and desolation are

the sure and certain results of trusting in man. But, on the other

hand--and mark the contrast, reader--"Blessed is the man that

trusteth in the Lord, and whose hope the Lord is: for he shall be as a

tree planted by the waters, and that spreadeth out her roots by the

river, and shall not see when heat cometh, but her leaf shall be

green; and shall not be careful in the year of drought, neither shall

cease from yielding fruit" (Jer. xvii. 5-8.)

Such is the unvarying teaching of Scripture on both sides of this

great practical question. It is a fatal mistake to look even to the

very best of men, to betake ourselves, directly or indirectly, to poor

human cisterns. But the true secret of blessing, strength and comfort

is to look to Jesus--to betake ourselves at once, in simple faith, to

the living God whose delight ever is to help the needy, to strengthen

the feeble, and lift up those that are cast down.

Hence, the sisters of Bethany did the right thing, when in the hour of

need and pressure they turned to Jesus. He was both able and willing

to help them: yet that blessed One did not at once respond to their

call. He did not see fit at once to fly to their relief, much as He

loved them. He fully entered into their sorrow and anxiety. He took it

all in and measured it perfectly. He was thoroughly with them in it.

There was no lack of sympathy, as we shall see in the sequel. Yet He

paused; and the enemy might cast in all sorts of suggestions; and

their own hearts might conceive all sorts of reasonings. It might

seem as though "the Master" had forgotten them. Perhaps their loving

Lord and Friend was changed toward them. Something may have occurred

to bring a cloud between them. We all know how the poor heart reasons

and tortures itself at such times. But there is a divine remedy for

all the heart's reasonings, and a triumphant answer to all the enemy's

dark and horrible suggestions. What is it? Unshaken confidence in the

eternal stability of the love of Christ.

Christian reader, here lies the true secret of the whole matter. Let

nothing shake your confidence in the unalterable love of your Lord.

Come what may--let the furnace be ever so hot; let the waters be ever

so deep; let the shadows be ever so dark; let the path be ever so

rough; let the pressure be ever so great--still hold fast your

confidence in the perfect love and sympathy of the One who has proved

His love by going down into the dust of death--down under the dark and

heavy billows and waves of the wrath of God, in order to save your

soul from everlasting burnings. Be not afraid to trust Him _fully_--to

commit yourself, without a shadow of reserve or misgiving, to Him. Do

not measure His love by your circumstances. If you do, you must, of

necessity, reach a false conclusion. Judge not according to the

outward appearance. Never reason from your surroundings. Get to the

heart of Christ, and reason out from that blessed centre. Never

interpret His love by your circumstances; but always interpret your

circumstances by His love. Let the beams of His everlasting favor

shine upon your darkest surroundings, and then you will be able to

answer every infidel thought, no matter whence it comes.

"Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,

But trust Him for His grace:

Behind a frowning providence

He hides a smiling face."

It is a grand thing to be able, ever to vindicate God; even if we can

do nothing more, to stand as a monument of His unfailing faithfulness

to all who put their trust in Him. What though the horizon around be

dark and depressing--though the heavy clouds gather and the storm

rage, God is faithful, and will not suffer us to be tempted above that

we are able; but will, with the temptation, make a way of escape, that

we may be able to bear it.

Besides, we must not measure divine love by the mode of its

manifestation. We are all prone to do so; but it is a great mistake.

The love of God clothes itself in varied forms, and not unfrequently

the form seems to us, in our shallowness and short-sightedness,

mysterious and incomprehensible. But, if only we wait patiently and in

artless confidence, divine light will shine upon the dispensation of

divine providence, and our hearts shall be filled with wonder, love,

and praise.

"We leave it to Himself,

To choose and to command:

With wonder filled, we soon shall see

How wise, how strong, His hand.

We comprehend Him not;

Yet earth and heaven tell,

God sits as Sovereign on the throne

And ruleth all things well."

God's thoughts are not as our thoughts; nor His ways as our ways; nor

His love as our love. If we hear of a friend in distress or difficulty

of any kind, our first impulse is to fly to his help and relieve him

of his trial, if possible. But this might be a great mistake. In place

of rendering help, it might be doing serious mischief. We might

actually be running athwart the purpose of God, and taking our friend

out of a position in which divine government had placed him for his

ultimate and permanent profit. The love of God is a wise and faithful

love. It abounds toward us in all wisdom and prudence. We, on the

contrary, make the gravest mistakes, even when most sincerely desiring

to do what is right and good. We are not competent to take in all the

bearings of things, or scan the windings and workings of providence,

or weigh the ultimate results of the divine dealings. Hence, the

urgent need of waiting much on God; and, above all things, of holding

fast our confidence in His unchanging, unfailing, unerring love. He

will make all plain. He will bring light out of darkness, life out of

death, victory out of seeming defeat. He will cause the deepest and

darkest distress to yield the very richest harvest of blessing. He

will make all things work together for good. But He is never in a

hurry. He has His own wise ends in view, and He will reach them in His

own time and way; and, moreover, out of what may seem to us to be a

dark, tangled, inexplicable maze of providence, light will spring

forth and fill our souls with praise and adoration.

The foregoing line of thought may help us to understand and appreciate

our Lord's bearing towards the sisters of Bethany on hearing of their

trouble. He felt there was much more involved in the case than the

mere matter of relieving those whom He, nevertheless, deeply loved.

The glory of God had to be considered. Hence, He says, "This sickness

is not unto death, but for the glory of God, that the Son of God might

be glorified thereby." He saw in this case an occasion for the display

of the divine glory, and not merely for the exhibition of personal

affection, however deep and real that might be--and with Him, surely,

it was both deep and real, for we read, "Jesus loved Martha and her

sister and Lazarus."

But, in the judgment of our blessed and adorable Lord, the glory of

God took precedence of every other consideration. Neither personal

affection nor personal fear had the smallest sway over His movements.

He was ruled, in all things, by the glory of God. From the manger to

the cross, in life and in death, in all His words, and all His works,

and all His ways, His devoted heart was set, with firm and unalterable

purpose, upon the glory of God. Hence, though it might be a good thing

to relieve a friend in distress, it was far better and higher to

glorify God; and we may be sure, that the beloved family of Bethany

sustained no loss by a delay which only made room for the brighter

out-shining of the divine glory.

Let us all remember this in seasons of trial and pressure. It is an

all-important point, and when fully apprehended, will prove a very

deep and blessed source of consolation. It will help us marvellously

to bear up under sickness, pain, death, bereavement, sorrow, and

poverty. How blessed to be able to stand beside the sick bed of a

friend and say, "This sickness is not unto death, but for the glory of

God!" And this is faith's privilege. Yea, not only in the sick

chamber, but by the open grave, the true believer may see the beams of

the divine glory shining forth over all.

No doubt the skeptic might cavil at the statement that "This sickness

is not unto death." He might object and reason and argue on the ground

of the apparent fact that Lazarus _did_ die. But faith reasons not

from appearances: it brings God in, and there finds a divine solution

for _all_ difficulties. Such is the moral elevation--the reality of a

life of faith. It sees God above and beyond all circumstances. It

reasons from God downward--not from circumstances upward. Sickness and

death are nothing in the presence of divine power. All difficulties

disappear from the pathway of faith. They are, as Joshua and Caleb

assured their unbelieving brethren, simply bread for the true

believer.

Nor is this all. Faith can wait God's time, knowing that His time is

the best. It staggers not, even though He may seem to linger. It rests

with calmness in the assurance of His unchanging love and unerring

wisdom. It fills the heart with the sweetest confidence that if there

be delay--if the relief be not sent all at once--it is all for the

best, inasmuch as "all things work together for good to them that love

God," and all must in the long run redound to the glory of God. Faith

enables its happy possessor to vindicate God amid the greatest

pressure, and to know and confess that divine love always does the

very best for its object.

II

It gives great rest to the heart to know that the One who has

undertaken for us, in all our weakness, our need, and the exigencies

of our path from first to last, has first of all secured, in every

respect, the glory of God. That was His primary object in all things.

In the work of redemption, and in all our history, the glory of God

has the first place in the heart of that blessed One with whom we have

to do. At all cost to Himself He vindicated and maintained the divine

glory. To that end He gave up everything. He laid aside His own glory,

humbled, emptied Himself. He surrendered Himself and yielded up His

life, in order to lay the imperishable foundation of that glory which

now fills all heaven--and shall soon cover the earth, and shine

through the wide universe for ever.

The knowledge and abiding sense of this must give profound repose to

the spirit in reference to everything that concerns us, whether it be

the salvation of the soul, the forgiveness of sins, or the needs for

the daily path. All that could possibly be a matter of exercise to us,

for time or for eternity, has been provided for, all secured on the

selfsame basis that sustains the divine glory. We are saved and

provided for; but the salvation and provision--all praise to our

glorious Saviour and Provider!--are inseparably bound up with the

glory of God. In all that our Lord Jesus Christ has done for us, in

all that He is doing, in all that He will do, the glory of God is

fully maintained.[1]

[1] Entering the Sanctuary, Israel's high priest had over his forehead

the plate of pure gold on which was engraved "_Holiness to the Lord_";

and on the breastplate, securely fastened upon his breast over the

ephod, were engraved on twelve jewels the names of each tribe in

Israel. So, in perfect love, our blessed Lord bears every one of His

people upon His heart, maintaining at the same time God's holy

character with His people. [Ed.]

And, further, we may add that in our trials, difficulties, sorrows,

and exercises, if instant relief be not afforded, we have to remember

there is some deep reason connected with the glory of God and our real

good, why the desired relief is withheld. In seasons of pressure we

are apt to think only of the one thing, namely, relief. But there is

very much more than this to be considered. We should think of the

glory of God. We should seek to know His object in putting us under

the pressure. We should earnestly desire that His end might be gained,

and His glory promoted. This would be for our fullest and deepest

blessing, while the relief which we so eagerly desire might be the

worst thing we could get. We must always remember that, through the

marvellous grace of God, His glory and our true blessing are so

inseparably bound up together, that when the former is maintained,

the latter must be perfectly secured.

This is a most precious consideration, and one eminently calculated to

sustain the heart in all seasons of affliction. All things must

ultimately redound to the glory of God, and "all things work together

for good to those that love God, to them who are the called according

to His purpose." It may not, perhaps, be so easy to see this when the

pressure is upon us. When anxiously watching by the sick-bed of a

beloved friend; or when treading the chamber of sorrow; or when laid

on a bed of pain and languishing ourselves; or when overwhelmed by

sudden tidings of the loss of our earthly all: under such

circumstances it may not be so easy to see the glory of God

maintained, and our blessing secured; but faith can see it for all

that; and as for "blind unbelief," it is always "sure to err." If

those beloved sisters of Bethany had judged by the sight of their

eyes, they would have been sorely tried during those weary days and

nights spent at the bedside of their much loved brother. And not only

so, but when the terrible moment arrived, and they were called to

witness the closing scene, many dark reasonings might have sprung up

in their crushed and desolate hearts.

But Jesus was looking on. His heart was with them. He was watching the

whole process, and that, too, from the very highest standpoint--the

glory of God. He took in the entire scene, in all its bearings, its

influences and its issues. He felt _for_ those afflicted sisters--felt

_with_ them--felt as only a perfect human heart could feel. Though

absent in person, He was with them in spirit, as they traveled through

the deep waters. His loving heart perfectly entered into all their

sorrow, and He only waited for "God's due time" to come to their aid,

and light up the darkness of death and the grave with the bright beams

of resurrection glory. "When He had heard that Lazarus was sick, He

abode two days still in the same place where He was." Things were

allowed to take their course as we say; death was allowed to enter the

much loved dwelling; but all this was for the glory of God. The enemy

might seem to have it all his own way, but it was only in appearance;

in reality death itself was but preparing a platform on which the

glory of God was to be displayed. "This sickness is not unto death,

but for the glory of God, that the Son of God might be glorified

thereby."

Such, then, was the path of our blessed Lord--His path with the

Father. His every step, His every act, His every utterance, had direct

reference to the claims of the Father's glory. Much as He loved the

family of Bethany, His personal affection led Him not into the scene

of their sorrow till the moment was come for the display of the divine

glory, and then no personal fear could keep Him away. "Then after that

He saith to His disciples, Let us go into Judea again. His disciples

say unto Him, Master, the Jews of late sought to stone Thee, and

goest Thou thither again? Jesus answered, Are there not twelve hours

in the day? If any man walk in the day, he stumbleth not, because he

seeth the light of this world. But if a man walk in the night he

stumbleth, because there is no light to him."

Thus that blessed One walked, in the full blaze of the glory of God.

His springs of action were all divine--all heavenly. He was a perfect

stranger to all the motives and objects of the men of this world, who

are stumbling along in the thick moral darkness that enwraps

them--whose motives are all selfish, whose objects are earthly and

sensual. He never did a single thing to please Himself. His Father's

will, His Father's glory, ruled Him in all things. The stirrings of

deep personal affection took Him not to Bethany, and no personal fear

could keep Him away. In all He did, and in all He did not do, He found

His motive in the glory of God.

Precious Saviour! teach us to walk in Thy heavenly footsteps! Give us

to drink more into Thy spirit! This, truly, is what we need. We are so

sadly prone to self-seeking and self-pleasing, even when apparently

doing right things and ostensibly engaging in the Lord's work. We run

hither and thither, do this and that, travel and preach and write, and

all the while we may be pleasing ourselves, and not really seeking to

do the will of God and promote His glory. May we study more

profoundly our divine Exemplar! May He be ever before our hearts as

the One to whom we are predestinated to be conformed! Thank God for

the sweet and soul-sustaining assurance that we shall be like Him, for

we shall see Him as He is. It is but a little while and we shall be

done forever with all that now hinders our progress and interrupts our

communion. Till then may the blessed Spirit work in our hearts, and

keep us so occupied with Christ, so feeding by faith on His

preciousness, that our practical ways may be a more living expression

of Himself, and that we may bring forth more abundantly the fruits of

righteousness which are by Jesus Christ to the glory and praise of

God.

III

We may now meditate for a few moments on the deeply interesting theme

of Christ's sympathy with His people, so touchingly illustrated in His

dealings with the beloved family of Bethany. He allowed them to go

through the exercise, to wade through the deep waters, to be

thoroughly tested, in order that "the trial of their faith, being much

more precious than of gold that perisheth, though it be tried with

fire, might be found unto praise and honor and glory." Looked at from

nature's standpoint, it might seem as though all hope was gone and

every ray of light faded away from the horizon. Lazarus was dead and

buried. All was over. And yet the Lord had said, "This sickness is not

unto death." How was this? What could He mean?

Thus nature might reason; but we must not listen to the reasonings of

nature, which are sure to carry us down into the regions of the shadow

of death. We must listen to the voice of Jesus; we must harken to His

living, cheering, strengthening, encouraging accents. In this way we

shall be able to vindicate and glorify God, not only at the sick-bed,

but in the chamber of death, and at the very grave itself. Death is

not death if Christ be there. The grave itself is but the sphere in

which the glory of God shines out in all its power. It is when all

that belongs to the creature is gone from the scene--when the platform

is thoroughly cleared of all that is merely of man, it is then that

the beams of the divine glory can be seen in all their brightness. It

is when all is gone, or seems to be, that Christ can come in and fill

the scene.

This is a grand point for the soul to get hold of and understand. It

is only faith that can really enter into it. We are all so terribly

prone to lean on some creature-prop, to sit beside some

creature-stream, to trust in an arm of flesh, to cling to what we can

see, to rest in the palpable and tangible. "The things that are seen

and temporal" have ofttimes more weight with us than "the things which

are unseen and eternal." Hence it is our ever-faithful Lord sees it

right and good to sweep away our creature-props, and dry up our

creature-streams, in order that we may lean on Himself, the eternal

Rock of our salvation, and find all our springs in Himself, the living

and exhaustless Fountain of all blessing. He is jealous of our love

and confidence, and He will clear the scene of everything that might

divide our hearts with Himself. He knows it is for our souls' full

blessing to be wholly cast upon Himself, and hence He seeks to purify

our hearts from every hateful idol.

And should we not praise Him for all this? Yes, truly; and not only

so, but we should welcome whatever means He is pleased to use for the

accomplishment of His wise and gracious end, even though, to nature's

view, it may seem harsh and severe. He may often have to say to us as

He said to Peter, "What I do thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know

hereafter."

Yes, beloved reader, by and by we shall know and appreciate all His

dealings. We shall look back upon the whole course from the light of

His own blessed presence, and see and own that "the very heaviest

stroke of His hand was the very strongest expression of His love at

the time." Martha and Mary might wonder why death had been allowed to

enter their dwelling. Doubtless they looked day after day, hour after

hour, moment after moment, for their beloved Friend to enter; but

instead of that He kept away, and death entered, and all seemed gone.

Why was this? Let Himself reply. "These things said He: and after that

He saith unto them, _Our friend_ Lazarus sleepeth." What touching

affection! What gracious intimacy! What a tender linking of Himself

with the family of Bethany on the one hand, and His disciples on the

other! "Our friend Lazarus sleepeth." It was but a gentle sleep. Death

is not death in the presence of the Prince of life. The grave is but a

sleeping-place. "I go, that I may awake him out of sleep." Such words

could not have been uttered had Lazarus been raised from a sick-bed.

"Man's extremity is God's opportunity"; and we can see without

difficulty that the grave afforded God a far better opportunity than a

sick-bed.

This, then, was the reason why Jesus kept away from His beloved

friends. He waited for the fitting moment, and that moment was when

Lazarus had lain in the grave four days already; when every human hope

had vanished; when all human agency was powerless and valueless. "I

go"--not to raise him from a sick-bed, but "that I may awake him out

of sleep." The platform was cleared of the creature in order that the

glory of God might shine out in all its brightness.

And is it not well to have the scene thus cleared of the creature? Is

it not a mercy--not in disguise, as some people say, but a plain,

positive, palpable mercy--to have every human prop gone? Faith says,

"Yes"--unhesitatingly and emphatically. Nature says, "No!" The poor

heart craves something of the creature to lean upon, something that

the eye can see. But faith--that most precious, priceless,

divinely-wrought principle--finds its true sphere in being called to

lean absolutely and abidingly upon the living God.

But it must be a real thing. It is of little use talking about faith

if the heart be a stranger to its power. Mere profession is perfectly

worthless. God deals in moral realities. "What doth it profit, my

brethren, though a man _say_ he have faith?" He does not say, "What

doth it profit though a man _have_ faith?" Blessed be God, those who

through grace have it, know that it profits _much_ every way. By faith

the sinner is brought in living relationship with God, is justified,

and lives unto Him. Faith glorifies God as nothing else can. It lifts

the soul above the depressing influences of things seen and temporal.

It tranquilizes the spirit in a most blessed manner. It enlarges the

heart, by leading us out of our own narrow circle of personal

interests, sympathies, cares and burdens, and connecting us livingly

with the eternal, exhaustless spring of goodness. It works by love,

and draws us out in gracious activity toward every object of need, but

especially toward those who are of the household of faith.

It is faith alone that can move along the path where Jesus leads. To

mere nature that path is dreadful. It is rough, dark, and lonely. Even

those who surrounded our blessed Lord on the occasion of the death of

Lazarus seemed wholly unable to comprehend His thoughts or follow

intelligently in His footsteps. When He said, "Let us go into Judea

again," they could think only of the Jews stoning Him. When He said,

"I go, that I may awake him out of sleep," they replied, "If he sleep,

he shall do well." When He spoke of his death, they thought that He

had spoken of taking rest in sleep. When "He said unto them plainly,

Lazarus is dead: and I am glad _for your sakes_ that I was not there,

_to the intent that ye may believe_" poor unbelieving nature, speaking

through the lips of Thomas Didymus, said, "Let us also go, that we may

die with Him."

In a word, we see total inability to take in the true bearing of the

case, as viewed from a divine standpoint. Nature sees nothing but

death and darkness, where faith basks in the sunlight of the divine

presence. "Let us also go, that we may _die_ with Him." Alas, alas!

was this all that even a disciple had to say? How absurd are the

conclusions of unbelief! Let us go with the Prince of life,

that--what? "we may die with Him"! What blindness even while attached

to the Lord! Should not Thomas have said: "Let us go, that we may

behold His glory; that we may see His marvelous doings in the very

region of the shadow of death; that we may share in His triumphs; that

we may shout, at the very gates of the grave, our hallelujahs to His

deathless name?"

IV

We have already noticed the three prominent subjects presented to us

in John xi., namely, our Lord's own path with the Father; secondly,

His profound sympathy with us; thirdly, His grace in linking us with

Himself, in so far as that is possible, in all His blessed work. He

ever walked with God, in calm, unbroken communion. He walked in the

most implicit obedience to the will of God, and was ruled in all

things by His glory. He walked in the day, and stumbled not. The will

of God was the light in which the perfect workman ever carried on His

work. He found His _only_ motive for action in the divine will--His

_only_ object in the divine glory. He came down from heaven, not to do

His own will, but the will of the Father, in which He ever found His

meat and drink.

But His great, loving heart flowed out in perfect sympathy with human

sorrow. This we see attested in the most touching manner as He moved,

in company with the afflicted sisters, to the tomb of their brother.

If any question had arisen in their hearts during the season of trial,

in the absence of their Lord, it was abundantly answered, yea, we may

add, completely demolished, by the manifestation of His deep and

tender affection as He moved toward the spot where the beams of the

divine glory were so soon to shine out over the dreary region of

death.

We do not here dwell upon the interesting interview between the two

sisters and their beloved Lord, so full of teaching, so illustrative

of His perfect mode of dealing with His people in their varied

measures of intelligence and communion. We pass at once to the

inspired statement in verse 33 of our chapter. "When Jesus therefore

saw her weeping, and the Jews also weeping which came with her, He

groaned in the spirit, and was troubled, and said, Where have ye laid

him? They said unto Him, Lord, come and see. Jesus wept."

How wonderful! The Son of God groaned and wept. Let us never forget

it. He, though God over all, blessed forever; though the resurrection

and the life; though the Quickener of the dead; though the Conqueror

of the grave; though on His way to deliver the body of His friend from

the grasp of the enemy--sample of what He will soon do for all who

belong to Him--yet, so perfectly did He enter into human sorrow, and

take in all the terrible consequences of sin, all the misery and

desolation of this sin-stricken world, that He groaned and wept! And

those tears and groans emanated from the depths of a perfect human

heart that felt as only a perfect human heart could feel--felt

according to God--for every form of human sorrow and misery. Though

perfectly exempt, in His own divine person, from sin and all its

consequences--yea, because exempt--He could in perfect grace enter

into it all and make it His own as only He could do.

"Jesus wept"! Wondrous, significant fact! He wept not for Himself, but

for others. He wept with them. Mary wept. The Jews wept. All this is

easily grasped and understood. But that Jesus should weep reveals a

mystery which we cannot fathom. It was divine compassion weeping

through human eyes over the desolation which sin had caused in this

poor world, weeping in sympathy with those whose hearts had been

crushed by the inexorable hand of death.

Let all who are in sorrow remember this. Jesus is the same yesterday,

to-day, and forever. His circumstances are changed, but His heart is

not. His position is different, but His sympathy is the same. "We have

not a high priest that can not be _touched_ with the feeling of our

infirmities, but was in all points tempted like as we are, apart from

sin." There is a perfect human heart on the throne of the Majesty of

the heavens, and that heart sympathizes with us in all our sorrows, in

all our trials, in all our infirmities, in all our pressure and

exercise. He perfectly enters into it all. Yea, He gives Himself to

each one of His beloved members here upon earth as though He had only

that one to look after.

How sweet and soothing to think of this! It is worth having a sorrow

to be allowed to taste the preciousness of Christ's sympathy. The

sisters of Bethany might say, "Lord, if Thou hadst been here, my

brother had not died." But if their brother had not died, they would

not have seen Jesus weeping, or heard His deep groan of sympathy with

them in their sorrow. And who would not say that it is better to have

the sympathy of His heart with us in our sorrow than the power of His

hand in keeping or taking us out of it? Was it not much better, much

higher, much more blessed, for the three witnesses in Dan. iii. to

have the Son of God walking with them in the furnace than to have

escaped the furnace by the power of His hand? Unquestionably.

And thus it is in every case. We have ever to remember that this is

not the day for the display of Christ's power. By and by He will take

to Himself His great power, and reign. Then all our sufferings, our

trials, our tribulations, will be over forever. The night of weeping

will give place to the morning of joy--the morning without clouds--the

morning that shall never know an evening. But now it is the time of

Christ's patience, the time of His precious sympathy; and the sense of

this is most blessedly calculated to sustain the heart in passing

through the deep waters of affliction.

And there _are_ deep waters of affliction. There _are_ trials,

sorrows, tribulations, and difficulties. And not only so, but our God

means that we should feel them. His hand is in them for our real good,

and for His glory. And it is our privilege to be able to say, "We

glory in tribulation also; knowing that tribulation worketh patience;

and patience, experience; and experience, hope; and hope maketh not

ashamed, because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the

Holy Ghost, which is given unto us."

The Lord be praised for all this! But it were folly to deny that there

are trials, sorrows and tribulations of all sorts. Nor would our God

have us insensible to them. Insensibility to them is folly; glorying

in them is faith. The consciousness of Christ's sympathy, and the

intelligence of God's object in all our afflictions, will enable us to

rejoice in them; but to deny the afflictions, or that we ought to feel

them, is simply absurd. God would not have us to be stoics; He leads

us into deep waters to walk with us through them; and when His end is

reached, He delivers us out of them, to our joy and His own

everlasting praise.

"He said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee; for My strength is

made perfect in weakness. Most gladly _therefore_ will I rather glory

in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.

Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in

necessities, in persecutions, in distresses, for Christ's sake; for

when I am weak then I am strong." At the first, Paul longed to be rid

of the thorn in the flesh, whatever it was. He besought the Lord

thrice that it might depart from him. But the thorn in the flesh was

better than pride in the heart. It was better far to be afflicted than

puffed up--better to have Christ's sympathy with him in his temptation

than the power of His hand in delivering him out of it.

V

It is deeply touching to mark the two groans of our Lord, as He moved

toward the tomb of His friend. The first groan was called forth by the

sight of the weeping mourners around Him. "When Jesus therefore saw

her weeping, and the Jews also weeping which came with her, He groaned

in the spirit, and was troubled." The margin reads, "He troubled

Himself."

How precious is the thought of this to the crushed and sorrowing

heart! The sight of human tears drew forth a groan from the loving,

sympathizing heart of the Son of God. Let all mourners remember this.

Jesus did not rebuke Mary for weeping. He did not rally her on account

of her sorrow. He did not tell her she ought not to feel; that she

ought to be above everything of that sort. Ah, no! this would not be

like Him. Some heartless folk may talk in this style; but He knew

better. He, though Son of God, was a real man; and hence, He felt as a

man ought to feel, and He knew what man must feel, while passing

through this dark vale of tears. Some of us talk largely and loftily

about being above nature, and not feeling the snapping of tender

links, and much in that strain. But in this we are not wise. We are

not in sympathy with the heart of the Man, Christ Jesus. It is one

thing to put forth, in heartless flippancy, our transcendental

theories, and it is quite another to pass through the deep waters of

grief and desolation with a heart exercised according to God. It will

generally be found that those of us who declaim the loudest against

nature, prove ourselves to be just like other people, when called to

meet bodily sickness, sorrow of heart, mental pressure, or pecuniary

loss. The great point is to be real, and to go through the stern

realities of actual life with a heart truly subject to God. Fine-drawn

theories will not stand the test of real sorrow, trial, and

difficulty; and nothing can be more absurd than to talk to people,

with human hearts, about not feeling things. God means us to feel;

and--precious, soothing, consolatory thought!--Jesus feels with us.

Let all the sons and daughters of sorrow remember these things for the

consolation of their sorrowing hearts. "God comforts those that are

cast down." If we were never cast down, we should not know His

precious ministry. A stoic does not need the comfort of God. It is

worth having a broken heart to have it bound up by our most merciful

High Priest.

"Jesus groaned"--"Jesus wept." What power, what divine sweetness in

these words! What a blank there would be were these words erased from

the page of inspiration! Surely we could not do without them, and

therefore our own most gracious God has, by His Spirit, penned these

unspeakably precious words for the comfort and consolation of all who

are called to tread the chamber of sorrow, or to stand at the grave of

a friend.

But there was another groan evoked from the heart of our blessed Lord.

Some of the Jews, when they heard His groan, and saw His tears, could

not help exclaiming, "Behold how He loved him!" But alas! others only

found, in such affecting proofs of true and profound sympathy,

occasion for the display of heartless skepticism and skepticism is

always heartless. "Some of them said, could not this man, that opened

the eyes of the blind, have caused that even this man should not have

died?"

Here the poor human heart lets itself out, in its ignorant reasonings.

How little did these skeptics understand either the person or the path

of the Son of God! How could they appreciate the motives that actuated

Him either in what He did, or in what He did not do? He opened the

eyes of the blind, in order that "the works of God might be made

manifest in him." And He did not prevent the death of Lazarus, that

God might be glorified thereby.

But what did they know about all this? Absolutely nothing. The blessed

One moved at far too high an elevation to be within the ken of worldly

religionists and skeptical reasoners. "The world knew Him not." God

understood and appreciated Him perfectly. This was enough. What were

the thoughts of men to One who ever walked in calm communion with the

Father? They were utterly incapable of forming a correct judgment

either of Himself or of His ways. They carried on their reasonings in

that thick moral darkness in which they dwelt.

Thus it is still. Human reasonings are begun, continued, and ended in

darkness. Man reasons about God; reasons about Christ; reasons about

Scripture; reasons about heaven, about hell, about eternity; about all

sorts of things. But all his reasonings are worse, far worse, than

worthless. Men are no more capable of understanding or appreciating

the written Word now, than they were of understanding or appreciating

the living Word, when He was amongst them. Indeed, the two things must

go together. As the living Word and the written Word are one, so to

know the one we must know the other; but the natural, the unrenewed,

the unconverted man knows neither. He is totally blind, in utter

darkness, dead; and when, without reality, he makes a religious

profession, he is "twice dead"--dead in nature and dead in his

religion. What are his thoughts, his reasonings, his conclusions

worth? They are baseless, false, ruinous.

Nor is there the slightest use in arguing with unconverted people. It

only tends to deceive them by leading them to suppose that they can

argue. It is always the best way to deal solemnly with them as to

their own moral condition before God. We do not find our Lord taking

any notice of the unbelieving reasonings of those around Him. He only

again groans and goes on His way. "Jesus _therefore_, again groaning

in Himself, cometh to the grave. It was a cave, and a stone lay upon

it."

This second groan is deeply affecting. He groaned, at first, in

sympathy with the mourners around Him. He groaned again over the

hardness and dark unbelief of the human heart, and of the heart of

Israel in particular. But, be it carefully noted, He does not attempt

to explain His reasons for not having hindered the death of His

friend, although He had opened the eyes of the blind.

Blessed, perfect Servant! It was no part of His business to explain or

apologize. He had to work on in the current of the divine counsels,

and for the promotion of the divine glory. He had to do the Father's

will, not explain Himself to those who could not possibly understand

the explanation.

This is a weighty point for us all. Some of us lose a quantity of time

in argument, apology, and explanation, in cases where such things are

not the least understood. We really do mischief. Better far pursue, in

holy calmness of spirit, singleness of eye, and decision of purpose,

the path of duty. That is what we have got to do, not to explain or

defend ourselves, which is sorry work at best for any one.

But let us look a moment at the tomb of Lazarus, and there see with

what lovely grace our adorable Lord and Master sought to associate His

servants with Himself in His work, in so far as that was possible;

though, even here, too, He is sadly intruded upon by the dark unbelief

of the human heart. "Jesus said, Take ye away the stone." This they

could do, and hence He graciously calls upon them to do it. It was all

they could do, so far. But here unbelief breaks in and casts its dark

shadows over the heart. "Martha, the sister of him that was dead,

saith unto Him, Lord, by this time he stinketh; for he hath been dead

four days."

And what of that? Could the humiliating process of decomposition, even

if completed, stand for one moment in the way of Him who is the

resurrection and the life? Impossible! Bring Him in, and all is clear

and simple; leave Him out, and all is dark and impracticable. Let but

the voice of the Son of God be heard, and death and corruption must

vanish like the darkness of night before the beams of the rising sun.

"Behold, I shew you a mystery: We shall not all sleep, but we shall

all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last

trump; for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised

incorruptible, and we shall be changed. So when this corruptible shall

have put on incorruption, and this mortal shall have put on

immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is

written, Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is thy

sting? O grave, where is thy victory? The sting of death is sin; and

the strength of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, which giveth us

the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ."

How magnificent! What are death, the grave, and decomposition in the

presence of such power as this? Talk of being dead four days as a

difficulty! Millions that have been mouldering in the dust for

thousands of years, shall spring up in a moment into life,

immortality, and eternal glory, at the voice of that blessed One to

whom Martha ventured to offer her unbelieving and irrational

suggestion.

VI

In our Lord's reply to Martha we have one of the most blessed

utterances that ever fell on the human ear. "Said I not unto thee,

that, _if thou wouldest believe, thou shouldest see the glory of

God_?" What living depth, what divine power, what freshness and

comfort in these words! They present to us the very gist and marrow,

the essential principle of the divine life. It is only the eye of

faith that can see the glory of God. Unbelief sees only difficulties,

darkness, and death. Faith looks above and beyond all these, and ever

basks in the blessed beams of the divine glory. Poor Martha saw

nothing but a decomposed human body, simply because she was under a

spirit of dark and depressing unbelief. Had she been swayed by an

artless faith, she would have walked to the tomb in company with Him

who is the resurrection and the life, assured that, instead of death

and decomposition, she should see the glory of God.

Reader, this is a grand principle for the soul to grasp. It is utterly

impossible for human language to overstate its value and importance.

Faith never looks at difficulties, except indeed it be to feed on

them. It looks not at the things that are seen, but at the things that

are unseen. It endures as seeing Him who is invisible. It takes hold

of the living God. It leans on His arm; it makes use of His strength;

it draws on His exhaustless treasury; it walks in the light of His

blessed countenance, and sees His glory shining forth over the darkest

scenes of human life.

The inspired volume abounds in striking illustrations of the contrast

between faith and unbelief. Let us glance at one or two of them. Look,

for example, at Caleb and Joshua, in contrast with their unbelieving

brethren, in Num. xiii. These latter saw only the difficulties which

stood in their way. "Nevertheless the people be strong that dwell in

the land,"--not stronger than Jehovah, surely,--"and the cities are

walled, and very great"--not greater than the living God:--"and

moreover we saw the children of Anak there." It is very clear that

they did not see the glory of God; indeed, they saw anything and

everything but that. They were wholly governed by a spirit of

unbelief, and hence they could only "bring up an evil report of the

land which they had searched unto the children of Israel, saying, The

land, through which we have gone to search it, is a land that eateth

up the inhabitants thereof; and _all_ the people that _we saw_ in it

are men of _great stature_"--they did not _see_ a single small man:

they looked at everything through the magnifying-glass of unbelief.

"There _we saw_ the giants"--no doubt!--"the sons of Anak, which come

of the giants." Anything more? Ah, God was shut out; they could not

see Him at all through the glasses they used. They could only see the

terrible giants and towering walls: "and we were in our own sight as

grasshoppers, and so were we in their sight."

But what of Jehovah? Alas, He was left out! Unbelief invariably leaves

God out of its calculations. It can take a very full account of the

difficulties, the hindrances, the hostile influences; but as for the

living God, it sees Him not. There is a melancholy consistency in the

utterances of unbelief, whether we listen to them in the wilderness of

Kadesh, or, fourteen hundred years afterwards, at the tomb of Lazarus.

Unbelief is always and everywhere the same; it begins, continues and

ends with the absolute exclusion of the one living and true God. It

can do naught save to cast dark shadows over the pathway of every one

who will listen to its voice.

How different are the accents of faith! Harken to Joshua and Caleb, as

they seek to stem the rising tide of unbelief. "And Joshua the son of

Nun, and Caleb the son of Jephunneh, which were of them that searched

the land, rent their clothes: and they spake unto all the company of

the children of Israel, saying, The land, which we passed through to

search it, is an exceeding good land. _If the Lord delight in

us_,"--here lies the secret,--"then He will bring us into this land,

and give it us; a land which floweth with milk and honey. Only rebel

not ye against the Lord, neither fear ye the people of the land; for

_they are bread for us_"--faith actually feeds on the difficulties

which terrify unbelief:--"their defence is departed from them, and

the Lord is with us: fear them not."

Glorious words! It does the heart good to transcribe them. "Said I not

unto thee, that, if thou wouldest believe, thou shouldest see the

glory of God?" Thus it is always. If there is a melancholy consistency

in the utterances of unbelief, there is a glorious consistency in the

accents of faith, wherever we harken to them. Caleb and Joshua saw the

glory of God, and in the light of that glory what were giants and high

walls? Simply nothing. If anything, they were _bread_ for the

nourishment of faith. Faith brings in God, and He dispels all

difficulties. What walls or giants could stand before the Almighty

God? "If God be for us, who can be against us?" Such is ever the

artless but powerful reasoning of faith. It conducts its arguments and

reaches its conclusions in the blessed light of the divine presence.

It sees the glory of God. It looks above and beyond the heavy clouds

which at times gather upon the horizon, and finds in God its sure and

never-failing resource. Precious faith!--the only thing in the world

that really glorifies God, and makes the heart of the Christian truly

bright and happy.

Take another illustration. Turn to 1 Kings xvii., and contrast the

widow of Sarepta with Elijah the Tishbite. What was the difference

between them? Just the difference that ever exists between unbelief

and faith. Listen again to the utterances of unbelief. "And she said,

As the Lord thy God liveth, I have not a cake, but a handful of meal

in a barrel, and a little oil in a cruse: and, behold, I am gathering

two sticks, that I may go in and dress it for me and my son, that we

may eat it, _and die_."

Here, truly, is a gloomy picture. An empty barrel, an exhausted cruse,

and death! Was that all? That was all for blind unbelief. It is the

old story of the giants and lofty walls over again. God is shut out,

though she could say, "As the Lord _thy_ God liveth." In reality she

was out of His presence, and had lost the sense of His all-sufficiency

to meet her need and that of her house. Her circumstances excluded God

from the vision of her soul. She looked at things that were seen, not

at the things which were unseen. She saw not the invisible One; she

saw nothing but famine and death. As the ten unbelieving spies saw

nothing but the difficulties; as Martha saw nothing but the grave and

its humiliating results; so the poor Sareptan saw nothing but

starvation and death.

Not so the man of faith. He looked beyond the barrel and the cruse. He

had no thought of dying of hunger. He rested on the word of the Lord.

Here was his precious resource. God had said, "I have commanded a

widow woman there to sustain thee." This was quite enough for him. He

knew that God could multiply the meal and the oil to sustain him and

her. Like Caleb and Joshua, he brought God into the scene, and found

in Him the happy solution of every difficulty. They saw God above and

beyond the walls and the giants. They rested on His eternal word. He

had promised to bring His people into the land, and hence, though

there were nothing but walls and giants from Dan to Beersheba, He

would most surely fulfil His word.

And so with Elijah the Tishbite. He saw the living and almighty God

above and beyond the barrel and the cruse. He rested upon that word

which is settled forever in heaven, and which never can fail a

trusting heart. This tranquilized his spirit, and with this he sought

to tranquilize the widow too. "And he said unto her, _Fear

not_;"--precious, soul-stirring utterance of faith!--"go, and do as

thou hast said.... For _thus saith the Lord God of Israel_, The barrel

of meal shall not waste, neither shall the cruse of oil fail, until

the day that the Lord sendeth rain upon the earth."

Here was the solid ground on which the man of God rested when he

ventured to offer a word of encouragement to the poor, desponding

widow of Sarepta. It was not in the light-heartedness, or blind

recklessness, of nature that he spoke to her. He did not deny that the

barrel and cruse were almost empty, as the woman had said. This could

have given her no comfort, inasmuch as she knew too well the facts of

her case. But he brought the living God and His faithful Word before

her aching heart; and hence he could say, "Fear not." He sought to

lead her soul to that true resting-place where he himself had found

repose, namely, _the word of the living God_--blessed, unfailing,

divine resting place for every anxious soul!

Thus it was with Caleb and Joshua. They did not deny that there were

giants and high walls: they brought God in, and sought to place Him

between the hearts of their desponding brethren and the dreaded

difficulties. This is what faith always does, and thus gives glory to

God and keeps the soul in peace, let the difficulties be ever so

great. It would be folly to deny there are obstacles and hostile

influences in the way: and there is a certain style of speaking of

such things which cannot possibly minister comfort or encouragement to

a poor, troubled heart. Faith accurately weighs the difficulties and

trials, but, knowing that the power of God outweighs them all, it

rests in holy calmness on His word, and in His perfect wisdom and

everlasting love.

The reader's mind will no doubt recur to many other instances in which

the Lord's people have been cast down by looking at circumstances,

instead of looking at God. David, in a dark moment, could say, "I

shall one day perish by the hand of Saul." What a sad mistake!--the

mistake of unbelief. What should he have said? Denied that the

unrelenting hand of Saul was against him? Surely not. What comfort

would that have given him, inasmuch as he knew too well that it was

really so. But he should have remembered that the hand of _God_ was

with him, and that hand was stronger than ten thousand Sauls.

So with Jacob in his day of darkness and depression. "All these

things," said he, "are against me." What should he have added? "But

God is for me." Faith has its "_buts_" and "_ifs_" as well as

unbelief; but faith's buts and ifs are all bright, because they

express the passage of the soul--its rapid passage--from the

difficulties to God Himself. "_But_ God who is rich," etc. And again,

"_If_ God be for us, who can be against us?" Thus faith ever reasons.

It begins with God, it places Him between the soul and all its

surroundings, and thus imparts a peace which passeth all

understanding, a peace which nothing can disturb.

But we must, ere closing this paper, return for a moment to the tomb

of Lazarus. The rapid glance we have taken through the inspired volume

will enable us to appreciate more fully those most precious words of

our Lord to Martha, "Said I not unto thee, that, if thou wouldest

believe, thou shouldest see the glory of God?" Men tell us that seeing

is believing; but we can say that believing is seeing. Yes, reader,

get hold of this grand truth. It will carry you through and bear you

above the darkest and most trying scenes of this dark and trying

world. "_Have faith in God._" This is the main-*spring of the divine

life. "The life that I live in the flesh, I live by the faith of the

Son of God, who loved me, and gave Himself for me." Faith knows, and

is persuaded, that there is nothing too hard, nothing too great--yea,

and nothing too small--for God. It can count on Him for everything. It

basks in the very sunlight of His presence, and exults in the

manifestations of His goodness, His faithfulness, and His power. It

ever delights to see the platform cleared of the creature, that the

glory of God may shine forth in all its lustre. It turns away from

creature streams and creature props, and finds all its resources in

the one living and true God.

Only see how the divine glory displays itself at the grave of Lazarus,

even spite of the unbelieving suggestion of Martha's heart; for God,

blessed be His name, delights at times to rebuke our fears as well as

to answer our faith. "Then they took away the stone where the dead was

laid. And Jesus lifted up His eyes, and said, Father, I thank Thee

that Thou hast heard Me. And I knew that Thou hearest Me always: but

because of the people which stand by I said it, that they may believe

that Thou hast sent Me. And when He thus had spoken, He cried with a

loud voice, Lazarus, come forth! And he that was dead came forth,

bound hand and foot with grave clothes; and his face was bound about

with a napkin. Jesus saith unto them, Loose him, and let him go."

Glorious scene! displaying our Jesus as the Son of God with power, by

resurrection of the dead. Gracious scene! in which the Son of God

condescends to use man in rolling away the stone and removing the

grave clothes. How good of Him to use us in any little way! May it be

our joy to be ever ready--in a holy readiness to be used, that God in

all things may be glorified!

LOVE DIVINE.

Father! Thy sovereign love has sought

Captives to sin, gone far from Thee:

The work that Thine own Son hath wrought

Has brought us back--in peace, and free!

And now, as sons before Thy face,

With joyful steps the path we tread,

Which leads us on to that blest place

Prepared for us by Christ, our Head.

Thou gav'st us in eternal love

To Him, to bring us home to Thee--

Suited to Thine own thoughts above;

As sons, like Him, with Him to be

In Thine own house! There Love Divine

Fills the bright courts with cloudless joy:

But 'tis the love that made us Thine

Fills all that house without alloy!

Oh, boundless grace! What fills with joy

Unmingled all that enter there--

God's nature, love without alloy--

Our hearts are given e'en now to share!

O Mind Divine! so must it be,

That glory, all, belongs to God!

O Love Divine! that did decree

We should be part, through Jesus' blood!

O, keep us, Love Divine, near Thee,--

That we our nothingness may know;

And ever to Thy glory be--

Walking in faith while here below.

J. N. D.

RESTORATION

(Gen. xxxv.)

The words "Arise, go up to Bethel" contain a great practical truth to

which we desire to call the reader's attention.

It has been well remarked by some one that "God, in His dealings with

us, always keeps us up to the original terms." This is true; but some

may not exactly understand it. It may, perhaps, savor of the legal

element. To speak of God as keeping us up to certain terms may seem to

militate against that free grace in which we stand, and which has

reigned through righteousness unto eternal life by Jesus Christ our

Lord. Many, we are aware, have a kind of horror of everything

bordering, in the most remote way, upon the legal system; and we may

say we sympathize with such. At the same time, we must take care not

to carry that feeling to such an extent as would lead us to throw

overboard aught that is calculated to act in a divine way upon the

heart and conscience of the believer. We really want practical truth.

There is a vast amount of what is called abstract truth in circulation

among us, and we prize it, and would prize it more. We delight in the

unfolding of truth in all its departments. But then we must remember

that truth is designed to act on hearts and consciences, and that

there are hearts and consciences to be acted upon. We must not cry

out, "Legal! legal!" whenever some great practical truth falls upon

our ears, even though that truth may come before us clothed in a garb

which at first sight seems strange. We are called to "suffer the word

of exhortation"--to listen to wholesome words--to apply our hearts

diligently to everything tending to promote practical godliness and

personal holiness. We know that the pure and precious doctrines of

grace--those doctrines which find their living centre in the person of

Christ, and their eternal foundation in His work--are the means which

the Holy Ghost uses to promote holiness in the life of the Christian;

but we know also that those doctrines may be held in theory, and

professed with the lips, while the heart has never felt their power,

and the life never exhibited their moulding influence. Yes, we

frequently find that the loud and vehement outcry against everything

that looks like legality proceeds from those who, though they profess

the doctrines of grace, do not realize their sanctifying influence;

whereas those who really understand the meaning of grace, who feel its

power to mould and fashion, to purify and elevate, are ever ready to

welcome the most pungent appeals to the heart and conscience.

But the pious reader may want to know what is meant by the expression

quoted above, namely, "God always keeps us up to the original terms."

Well, it simply means this, that when God calls us to any special

position or path, and we fall short of it, or wander from it, He will

recall us to it again and again. And further, when we set out under

some special principle of action or standard of devotedness, and

swerve from it, or fall below it, He will remind us of it, and bring

us back to it. True, He bears with us patiently, and waits on us

graciously; but "He always keeps us up to the original terms."

And can we not praise Him for this? Assuredly we can. Could we endure

the thought of His allowing us to fall short of His holy standard, or

to wander hither and thither without His uttering a word to urge us on

or call us back? We trust not. Well, then, if He does speak, what must

He say? He must just remind us of "the old terms." Thus it is, and

thus it has ever been. When Peter was converted at the lake of

Gennesaret he forsook all and followed Jesus, and the last words that

fell on his ear from the lips of his risen Lord were, "Follow thou

Me." This was simply keeping him to the original terms. The heart of

Jesus could not be satisfied with less, and neither should the heart

of His servant. By the lake of Gennesaret, Peter set out to follow

Jesus. What then? Years rolled on; Peter had stumbled; he had denied

his Lord; he had gone back to his boats and nets. What then? After the

Lord's resurrection, as Peter, restored in soul, stood by the side of

his loving Lord at the sea of Tiberias, he was called to listen to

that one brief, pointed utterance. "Follow Me"--an utterance

embracing in its comprehensive grasp all the details of a life of

active service and of patient suffering. In a word, Peter was brought

back to the original terms--the terms between his soul and Christ. He

was brought to learn that the heart of Jesus had undergone no change

toward him--that the love of that heart was inextinguishable and

unaltered; and, because it was so, it could not tolerate any change in

Peter's heart--neither decline nor departure from the original terms.

Now we see the same thing precisely in the history of the patriarch

Jacob. Let us just turn to it for a moment. At the close of Gen.

xxviii. we have the record of the original terms between the Lord and

Jacob. We shall quote it at length. "And Jacob went out from

Beersheba, and went toward Haran. And he lighted upon a certain place,

and tarried there all night, because the sun was set; and he took of

the stones of that place, and put them for his pillows, and lay down

in that place to sleep. And he dreamed, and behold a ladder set up on

the earth, and the top of it reached to heaven: and behold the angels

of God ascending and descending on it. And, behold, the Lord stood

above it, and said, I am the Lord God of Abraham thy father, and the

God of Isaac: the land whereon thou liest, to thee will I give it, and

to thy seed: and thy seed shall be as the dust of the earth; and thou

shalt spread abroad to the west, and to the east, and to the north,

and to the south: and in thee and in thy seed shall all the families

of the earth be blessed. And, behold, I am with thee, and will keep

thee in all places whither thou goest, and will bring thee again into

this land; for I will not leave thee, until I have done that which I

have spoken to thee of."

Here, then, we have the blessed statement of what the God of Abraham,

Isaac and Jacob undertook to do for Jacob and for his seed--a

statement crowned by these memorable words, "_I will not leave thee,

until I have done that which I have spoken to thee of_." Such are the

terms by which God binds Himself to Jacob; which terms, blessed be His

name, have been and will be fulfilled to the letter, though earth and

hell should interpose to prevent. Jacob's seed shall yet possess the

whole land of Canaan as an everlasting inheritance, for who shall

prevent Jehovah Elohim, the Lord God Almighty, from accomplishing His

promise?

Let us now harken to Jacob. "And Jacob awaked out of his sleep, and he

said, Surely the Lord is in this place; and I knew it not. And he was

afraid, and said, How dreadful is this place! this is none other but

the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven. And Jacob rose up

early in the morning, and took the stone that he had put for his

pillows, and set it up for a pillar, and poured oil upon the top of

it. And he called the name of that place Bethel.... And Jacob vowed a

vow, saying, If God will be with me, and will keep me in this way that

I go, and will give me bread to eat, and raiment to put on, so that I

come again to my father's house in peace; then shall the Lord be my

God: and this stone, which I have set for a pillar, shall be God's

house: and of all that Thou shalt give me I will surely give the tenth

unto Thee."

Thus much as to Bethel and the terms entered into there. God pledged

Himself to Jacob; and though heaven and earth should pass away, that

pledge must be maintained in all its integrity. He revealed Himself to

that poor lonely one who lay sleeping on his stony pillow; and not

only revealed Himself to him, but linked Himself with him in a bond

which no power of earth or hell can ever dissolve.

And what of Jacob? Why, he dedicated himself to God, and vowed that

the spot where he had enjoyed such a revelation and harkened to such

exceeding great and precious promises, should be God's house. All this

was deliberately uttered before the Lord, and solemnly recorded by

Him; and then Jacob went on his journey. Years passed--twenty long and

eventful years--years of trial and exercise, during which Jacob

experienced many ups and downs, changes, and varied trials; but the

God of Bethel watched over His poor servant, and appeared unto him in

the midst of his pressure, and said unto him, "I am the God of Bethel,

_where thou anointedst the pillar, and where thou vowedst a vow unto

Me_: now arise, get thee out from this land, and return unto the land

of thy kindred." God had not forgotten the original terms, neither

would He let His servant forget them. Is this legality? Nay; it is

the exhibition of divine love and faithfulness. God loved Jacob, and

He would not suffer him to stop short of the old standard. He

jealously watched over the state of His servant's heart; and, lest it

should by any means remain below the Bethel mark, He gently reminds

him by those touching and significant words, "I am the God of Bethel,

where thou anointedst the pillar, and where thou vowedst a vow." This

was the sweet expression of God's unchanging love, and of the fact

that He counted on Jacob's remembrance of Bethel scenes.

How amazing that the High and Mighty One, who inhabiteth eternity,

should so value the love and remembrance of a poor worm of the earth!

Yet so it is, and we ought to bear it more in mind. Alas, we forget

it! We are ready enough to take mercies and blessings from the hand of

God, and most surely He is ready enough to bestow them. But then we

ought to remember that He looks for the loving devotion of our hearts

to Him; and if we, in the freshness and ardor of other days, set out

to follow Christ, give up all for Him, can we suppose for a moment

that He could coldly and indifferently forego His claim upon our

heart's affections? Should we like Him to do so? Could we endure the

thought of its being a matter of indifference to Him whether we loved

Him or not? God forbid! Yea, it should be the joy of our hearts to

think that our blessed Lord seeks the loving devotion of our souls to

Him; that He will not be satisfied without it; that when we wander

hither and thither, He calls us back to Himself, in His own gentle,

gracious, touching way.

"When, weary of His rich repast,

I've sought, alas, to rove;

He has recalled His faithless guest,

And showed His banner, Love."

Yes, His banner ever floats, bearing its own inscription upon it to

win back our vagrant hearts, and remind us of the original terms. He

says to us, in one way or another, as He said to Jacob, "I am the God

of Bethel, where thou anointedst the pillar, and where thou vowedst a

vow." Thus He deals with us, in the midst of all our wanderings, our

haltings, and our stumblings. He makes us to know, that as we cannot

do without His love, so neither can He do without ours. It is truly

wonderful; yet so it is. He will keep the soul up to the old terms.

Harken to those touching appeals of the Spirit of Christ to His saints

in other days: "Thou hast _left thy first love_"; "Remember from

whence thou art fallen; and repent, and _do thy first works_" (Rev.

ii.); "Call to remembrance _the former times_" (Heb. x. 32); "Where is

the blessedness ye spake of?" (Gal. iv. 15).

What is all this but calling His people back to the old point from

which they had declined? It may be said, they ought not to have needed

this. No doubt; yet they did need it; and because they needed it,

Jesus did it. It may be said, further, that tried love is better than

first love. Granted; but do we not find, as a matter of fact in our

spiritual history, that upon our first setting out to follow Jesus

there is a simplicity, an earnestness, a freshness, fervor and depth

of devotion, which, from various reasons, we fail to keep up? We

become cold and careless; the world gets in upon us and eats up our

spirituality; nature gains the upper hand, in one way or another, and

deadens our spiritual sensibility, damps our ardor, and dims our

vision.

Is the reader conscious of anything like this? If so, would it not be

a peculiar mercy if at this very moment he were called back to the old

terms? Doubtless. Well, then, let him be assured that the heart of

Jesus is waiting and ready. His love is unchanging; and not only so,

but He would remind you that He cannot be satisfied without a true

response from you. Wherefore, beloved friend, whatever has drawn you

away from the measure of your earliest dedication to Him, let your

heart now spring up and get back at once to Him. Do not hesitate.

Linger not. Cast yourself at the feet of your loving Lord--tell Him

all--and let your heart fully turn to Him, and let it be only for Him.

This is the secret spring of all true service. If Christ has not the

love of your heart, He does not want the labor of your hands. He does

not say, "Son, give Me thy money, thy time, thy talents, thine

energies, thy pen, thy tongue, thy head." All these are unavailing,

unsatisfying to Him. What He says to you is, "My son, give Me thy

_heart_." Where the heart is given to Jesus, all will come right. Out

of the heart come all the issues of life; and if only Christ have His

right place in the heart, the work and the ways, the walk and the

character, will be all right.

But we must return to Jacob, and see further how our subject is

illustrated in his fruitful history. At the close of Gen. xxxiii. we

find him settling down at Shechem, where he gets into all sorts of

trouble and confusion. His house is dishonored, and his sons in

avenging the dishonor endanger his life. All this Jacob feels keenly,

and he says to his sons Simeon and Levi, "Ye have troubled me ...

among the inhabitants of the land, among the Canaanites and the

Perizzites; and I being few in number, they shall gather themselves

together against me; and I shall be destroyed, I and my house."

All this was most deplorable; but it does not appear to have once

occurred to Jacob that he was in a wrong place. The defilement and

confusion of Shechem failed to open his eyes to the fact that he was

not up to the old terms. How often is this the case! We fall short of

the divine standard in our practical ways; we fail in walking up to

the height of the divine revelation; and although the varied fruits of

our failure are produced on every side, yet our vision is so dimmed by

the atmosphere around us, and our spiritual sensibilities so blunted

by our associations, that we do not discern how low we are, and how

very far short of the proper mark.

However, in Jacob's case we see the divine principle again and again

illustrated. "And God said unto Jacob, "Arise, _go up to Bethel, and

dwell there_; and make there an altar unto God, that appeared unto

thee when thou fleddest from the face of Esau thy brother."

Reader, note this. We have here a most exquisite feature in the divine

method of dealing with souls. There is not one word said about

Shechem, its pollutions and its confusions. There is not a word of

reproof for having settled down there. Such is not God's way. He

employs a far more excellent mode. Had we been dealing with Jacob we

should have come down upon him with a heavy hand, and read him a

severe lecture about his folly in settling at Shechem, and about his

personal and domestic habits and condition. But oh, how well it is

that God's thoughts are not as our thoughts, nor His ways like ours!

Instead of saying to Jacob, "Why have you settled down in Shechem?" He

simply says, "Arise, go up to Bethel;" and the very sound of the word

sent a flood of light into Jacob's soul by which he was enabled to

judge himself and his surroundings. "Then Jacob said unto his

household, and to all that were with him, Put away the strange gods

that are among you, and be clean, and change your garments: and let us

_arise, and go up to Bethel_; and I will make there an altar unto God,

who answered me in the day of my distress, and was with me in the way

which I went."

This was, assuredly, getting back to the original terms. It was the

restoring of a soul and a leading in the paths of righteousness. Jacob

felt that he could not bring false gods and defiled garments to

Bethel: such things might pass at Shechem, but they would never do for

Bethel. "And they gave unto Jacob all the strange gods which were in

their hand, and all their earrings which were in their ears; and Jacob

hid them under the oak which was by Shechem.... So Jacob came to Luz,

which is in the land of Canaan, that is, Bethel, he and all the people

that were with him. And he built there an altar, and called the place

El-beth-el; because there God appeared unto him, when he fled from the

face of his brother."

"EL-beth-EL." Precious title, which had God for its Alpha and its

Omega! At Shechem, Jacob called his altar "El-elohe-Israel," that is,

"God, the God of Israel"; but at Bethel, the true standpoint, he

called his altar "El-beth-el," that is, God--the house of God. This

was true restoration. Jacob was brought back, after all his

wanderings, to the very point from which he had started. Nothing less

than this could ever satisfy God in reference to His servant. He could

wait patiently on him--bear with him--minister to him--care for

him--look after him; but He never could rest satisfied with anything

short of this--"Arise, go up to Bethel."

Christian reader, pause here. We want to ask you a question. Are you

conscious of having wandered from Jesus? Has your heart declined, and

grown cold? Have you lost the freshness and ardor which once marked

the tone of your soul? Have you allowed the world to get in upon you?

Have you, in the moral condition of your soul, got down into Shechem?

Has your heart gone after idols, and have your garments become

defiled? If so, let us remind you of this, that _the Lord wants you

back to Himself_. Yes, beloved, this is what He wants; and He wants it

now. He says to you at this moment, "Arise, go up to Bethel." You will

never be happy, you will never be right, until you yield a full

response to this blessed and soul-stirring call. O yield it now, we

beseech you. Rise up, and fling aside every weight and every

hindrance; put away the idols and change your garments, and get back

to the feet of your Lord, who loves you with a love which many waters

cannot quench, neither can the floods drown; and who cannot be

satisfied until He has you with Himself, according to the original

terms. Say not this is legal; it is nothing of the sort. It is the

love of Jesus--His deep, glowing, earnest love--love which is jealous

of every rival affection--love which gives the whole heart, and must

have a whole heart in return. May God the Holy Ghost bring back every

wandering heart to the true standard! May He visit with fresh power

every soul that has gone down to Shechem, and give no rest until a

full response has been yielded to the call, "ARISE, GO UP TO BETHEL."

(John xxi. 1-19.)

A careful study of these verses will enable us to trace in them three

distinct kinds of restoration, namely, restoration of conscience,

restoration of heart, and restoration of position.

I. The first of these, restoration of conscience, is of

all-importance. It would be utterly impossible to overestimate the

value of a sound, clear, uncondemning conscience. A Christian cannot

get on if there is a single soil on his conscience. He must walk

before God with a pure conscience--a conscience without stain or

sting. Precious treasure! May my reader ever possess it! but in each

it must be a restoration to the original terms.

It is very obvious that Peter possessed it in the touching scene "at

the sea of Tiberias." And yet he had fallen--shamefully, grievously

fallen. He had denied his Lord with an oath; but he was restored. One

look from Jesus had broken up the deep fountains of his heart, and

drawn forth floods of bitter tears. And yet it was not his tears, but

the love that drew them forth, which formed the ground of his thorough

restoration of conscience. It was the changeless and everlasting love

of the heart of Jesus--the divine efficacy of the blood of Jesus--and

the all-prevailing power of the advocacy of Jesus, that imparted to

Peter's conscience the boldness and liberty so strikingly and

beautifully exhibited on the memorable occasion before us.

The risen Saviour is seen in these closing chapters of John's Gospel

watching over His poor, feeble, erring disciples--hovering about their

path--presenting Himself in various ways before them--taking occasion

from their very necessities to make Himself known in perfect grace to

their hearts. Was there a tear to be dried, a difficulty to be solved,

a fear to be hushed, a bereaved heart to be soothed, an unbelieving

mind to be corrected? Jesus was present, in all the fulness and

variety of His grace, to meet all these things. So also when, under

the guidance of the ever forward Peter, they had gone forth to spend a

night in fruitless toil, Jesus had His eye upon them. He knew all

about the darkness, and the toil, and the empty net; and there He was

on the shore to prepare a dinner for them. Yes, the self-same Jesus

who had died on the cross to put away their sins, now stood on the

shore to restore them from their wanderings, gather them round

Himself, and minister to all their need. "Have ye any meat?" developed

the fruitlessness of their night's toil. "Come and dine" was the

touching expression of the tender, thoughtful, all-providing love of

the risen Saviour.

But let us note particularly the evidences of a thoroughly restored

conscience as exhibited by Simon Peter. "Therefore that disciple whom

Jesus loved saith unto Peter, It is the Lord. Now when Simon Peter

heard that it was the Lord, he girt his fisher's coat unto him, (for

he was naked,) and did cast himself into the sea." He could not wait

for the ships or for his fellow-disciples, so eager was he to get to

the feet of his risen Lord. In place of saying to John or to the

others, "You know how shamefully I have fallen; and although I have

since then seen the Lord, and heard Him speak peace to my soul, yet I

think it more becoming in one that has so fallen to keep back; do you

therefore go first and meet the blessed One, and I shall follow

after." In place of aught in this style, he flings himself boldly into

the sea--as much as to say, "I must be the very first to get to my

risen Saviour; none has such a claim on Him as poor, stumbling,

failing Peter."

Now, here was a perfectly restored conscience--a conscience basking in

the sunlight of unchanging love; and is not this the true, original

terms for every Christian? Peter's confidence in Christ was unclouded,

and this, we may boldly affirm, was grateful to the heart of Jesus.

Love likes to be trusted. Let us ever remember this. No one need

imagine that he is honoring Jesus by standing afar off on the plea of

unworthiness; and yet it is very hard for one who has fallen, or

backslidden, to recover his confidence in the love of Christ. Such a

one can see clearly that a sinner is welcome to Jesus, no matter how

great or manifold his sins may have been; but then, he thinks, the

case of a backsliding, or stumbling, Christian is entirely different.

Should these lines be scanned by one who has backslidden, or fallen,

we would press upon him most earnestly the importance of immediate

return to Jesus. "Return, ye backsliding children, and I will heal

your backslidings." What is the response to this pathetic appeal?

"Behold, we come _unto Thee_; for Thou art the Lord our God." "If thou

wilt return, O Israel, saith the Lord, return _unto Me_" (Jer. iii.

22; iv. 1). The love of the heart of Jesus knows no change. We change;

but He is "the same yesterday, and to-day, and forever;" and He

delights to be trusted. The confidence of Peter's heart was precious

to the heart of Christ. No doubt it is sad to fall, to err, to

backslide; but it is sadder still, when we have done so, to distrust

the love of Jesus, or His gracious readiness to take us to His bosom

again.

Beloved reader, have you fallen? Have you erred? Have you backslidden?

Have you lost the sweet sense of divine favor, the happy consciousness

of acceptance with God? If so, what are you to do? Simply

this--"_Return._" This is God's own special word to the backslider.

Return in full confession, in self-judgment, and in the fullest

confidence in the boundless, changeless love of the heart of Christ.

Do not, we beseech you, keep away in the distance of your own

unbelief. Do not measure the heart of Jesus by your own thoughts. Let

Him tell you what is in His heart toward you. You have sinned, you

have failed, you have turned aside; and now, it may be, you are afraid

or ashamed to turn your eyes toward the One whom you have grieved, or

dishonored. Satan too is suggesting the darkest thoughts; for he would

fain keep you at a chilling distance from that precious Saviour who

loves you with an everlasting love. But you have only to fix your gaze

upon the blood, the advocacy, the heart of Jesus, to get a triumphant

answer to all the enemy's terrible suggestions, and to all the infidel

reasonings of your own heart. Do not, therefore, go on another hour

without seeking to get a thorough settlement of the question between

your soul and Christ. Remember, "His is an unchanging love, free and

faithful, strong as death." Remember, also, His own words, "Return, ye

backsliding children"--"Return _to Me_." Christ, and He alone, is the

centre and circumference of all the terms to which our souls are

bound. And, finally, remember that Jesus loves to be trusted.

II. But the heart has to be restored as well as the conscience. Let

this not be forgotten. It often happens, in the history of souls, that

though the conscience may be perfectly clear as to certain _acts_

which we have done, yet the _roots_ from whence those acts have sprung

have not been reached. The acts appear on the surface of daily life,

but the roots are hidden down deep in the heart, unknown, it may be,

to ourselves and others, but thoroughly exposed to the eye of Him with

whom we have to do.

Now, these roots must be reached, exposed and judged, ere the heart is

in a right condition in the sight of God. Look at Abraham. He started

on his course with a certain root in his heart, a root of unbelieving

reserve in reference to Sarah. This thing led him astray when he went

down to Egypt; and although his conscience was restored, and he got

back to his altar at Bethel, yet the root was not reached for years

afterwards, as seen in the affair of Abimelech, king of Gerar.

All this is deeply practical, and most solemn. It finds its

illustration in Peter as well as in Abraham. But now mark the

exquisitely delicate way in which our blessed Lord proceeds to reach

the roots in the heart of His dear and honored servant. "So when they

had dined." Not till then. There was no allusion to the past, nothing

that might cause a chill to the heart, or bring a cloud over the

spirit, while a restored conscience was feasting in company with a

love that knows no change. This is a fine moral trait. It

characterizes the dealings of God with all His saints. The conscience

is set at rest in the presence of infinite and everlasting love. But

there must be the deeper work of reaching the root of things in the

heart. When Simon Peter, in the full confidence of a restored

conscience, flung himself at the feet of His risen Lord, he was called

to listen to that gracious invitation, "Come and dine." But "when they

had dined," Jesus, as it were, takes Peter apart, in order to let in

upon his soul the light of truth, so that by it he might discern the

root from whence all his failure had sprung. That root was

self-confidence, which had led him to place himself in advance of his

fellow-disciples, and say, "Though all should deny Thee, yet will not

I."

This root had to be exposed, and therefore, "When they had dined,

Jesus saith to Simon Peter, Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou Me more

than these?" This was a pointed and pungent question, and it went

right to the very bottom of Peter's heart. Three times Peter had

denied his Lord, and three times his Lord now challenges the heart of

Peter--_for the roots must be reached if any permanent good is to be

done_. It will not do merely to have the conscience purged from the

effects which have been produced in practical life; there must also be

the moral judgment of that which produced them. This is not

sufficiently understood and attended to, and hence it is that again

and again the roots spring up and bear forth their fruit with

increasing power, thus cutting out for us the most bitter and

sorrowful work, which might all be avoided if the roots of things were

thoroughly judged and kept under judgment.

Christian reader, our object in this paper is entirely practical. Let

us therefore exhort one another to judge our roots, whatever they may

be. Do we know our roots? Doubtless it is hard, very hard, to know

them. They are deep and manifold: pride, personal vanity,

covetousness, irritability, ambition--these are some of the roots of

character, the motive springs of action, over which a rigid censorship

must ever be exercised. We must let nature know that the eye of

self-judgment is continually upon it. We have to carry on the struggle

without cessation. We may have to lament over occasional failure; but

we must maintain the struggle, for struggle bespeaks _life_. We must

remember that the original terms are that in the flesh dwelleth _no_

good thing. May God the Holy Ghost strengthen us for this vigilance

against the flesh!

III. We shall close this paper with a brief reference to restoration

as bearing upon the soul's position, or path. The conscience being

thoroughly purged, and the heart, with its varied roots, judged, there

is moral preparedness for our proper path. The perfect love of Jesus

had expelled all fear from Peter's conscience; and his threefold

question had opened up the roots in Peter's heart, and now He says to

him, "Verily, verily, I say unto thee, When thou wast young, thou

girdedst thyself, and walkedst whither thou wouldest: but when thou

shalt be old, thou shalt stretch forth thy hands, and another shall

gird thee, and carry thee whither thou wouldest not. This spake He,

signifying by what death he should glorify God. And when He had spoken

this, He saith unto him, Follow Me." And this is exactly the original

terms by which our Lord began with Peter as His disciple. It was then

also, "Follow Me."

Here, then, we have in two words the path of the servant of

Christ--"_Follow Me_." The Lord had just given Peter the sweetest

pledges of His love and confidence. He had, notwithstanding all past

failure, entrusted him with the care of all that was dear to His

loving heart in this world, even the lambs and sheep of His flock. He

had said to him, "If you have affection for Me, feed My lambs,

shepherd My sheep;" and now, in one brief but comprehensive utterance,

He opens before him his proper path--"Follow Me." This is enough. It

includes all besides. If we want to follow Jesus, we must keep the eye

continually upon Him; we must mark His footprints and tread therein.

Yes, mark them, and walk in them; and when tempted, like Peter, to

"turn about," in order to see what this one or that one has to do, or

how he does it, we may hear the correcting words, "What is that to

thee? follow thou Me." This is to be our one grand and all-absorbing

business, come what may. A thousand things may arise to distract and

hinder. The devil will tempt us to look hither and thither, to look at

this one and that one; to imagine we could do better here than there,

or there than here; to be occupied with, and imitating, the work of

some fellow-servant. All this is met by those pointed words, "Follow

Me."

There is immense danger of following in the wake of others, of doing

certain things because others do them, or doing things as others do

them. All this has to be carefully guarded against. It will be sure to

come to nothing. What we really want is a broken will--the true spirit

of a servant that waits on the Master to know His mind. Service does

not consist in doing this or that, or running hither and thither; it

is simply doing the Master's will, whatever that may be. "They serve

who stand and wait." It is easier to be busy than to be quiet. When

Peter was "_young_," he went whither he would; but when he got

"_old_," he went whither he would not. What a contrast between the

young, restless, ardent, energetic Peter, going whither he would, and

the old, matured, subdued, experienced Peter, going whither he would

not! What a mercy to have the will broken!--to be able to say from the

heart, "_What_ Thou wilt--_as_ Thou wilt--_where_ Thou wilt--_when_

Thou wilt"--"not my will, but Thine, O Lord, be done"!

"_Follow Me!_" Precious words! May they be engraved on our hearts,

beloved reader! Then shall we be steady in our course and effective in

our service. We shall not be distracted or unhinged by the thoughts

and opinions of men. It may happen that we shall get very few to

understand us or to sympathize with us--few to approve or appreciate

our work. It matters not. The Master knows all about it. If a master

tells one of his servants distinctly to go and do a certain thing, or

occupy a certain post, it is his business to go and do that thing, or

occupy that post, no matter what his fellow-servants may think. They

may tell him that he ought to be somewhere else, or to do something

else. A proper servant will heed them not; he knows his master's mind,

and has to do his master's work.

Would it were more thus with all the Lord's servants! Would that we

all knew more distinctly, and carried out more decidedly, the Master's

will respecting us! Peter had his path, and John had his. James had

his work, and Paul had his. So it was of old: the Gershonite had his

work, and the Merarite had his; and if the one had interfered with the

other, the work would not have been done. The tabernacle was carried

forward, or set up, by each man doing his own proper work. Thus it is

in this our day. God has varied workmen in His house and in His

vineyard; and the original terms of service are that the Holy Spirit

divideth to every one as _He_ will. He has quarrymen, stone-squarers,

masons, and builders. Are all quarrymen? Surely not. But each has his

work to do, and the building is carried forward by each one doing his

own appointed work. Should a quarryman despise a builder, or a builder

look down with contempt upon a quarryman? Assuredly not. The Master

wants them both; and whenever the one would interfere with the other

(as, alas, we are apt to do), the faithful correcting word falls on

the ear, "_What is that to thee? follow thou Me._"

JERICHO AND ACHOR

OR

PRIVILEGE AND RESPONSIBILITY

(Read Joshua vi., vii.)

The Christian reader will do well to turn, first of all, to the two

chapters named above, and give them a careful reading. They furnish a

very striking and impressive record of the double effect of God's

presence with His people. In chapter vi. we are taught that the divine

Presence ensured victory over the power of the enemy. In chapter vii.

we learn that the divine Presence demanded judgment upon evil in the

bosom of the congregation. The ruins of Jericho demonstrate the one;

the great heap of stones in the valley of Achor attests the other.

Now, these two things must never be separated. We see them vividly

illustrated in every page of the history of God's people, both in the

Old and in the New Testament. The self-same Presence that secures

victory demands holiness. Let us never forget this. Yea, let us keep

it ever in the remembrance of our hearts. It has an individual as well

as a collective application. If we are to walk with God, or, rather,

if He is to walk with us, we must judge and put away everything

inconsistent with His holy presence. He cannot sanction unjudged evil

in His people. He can pardon, heal, restore, and bless; but He is

intolerant of evil. "_Our God_ is a consuming fire." "The time is come

that judgment must begin at the house of God."

Should the thought of this discourage or depress any true-hearted

child of God, or servant of Christ? Certainly not. It should neither

discourage nor depress, but it should make us very watchful over our

hearts, very careful as to our ways, our habits of thought and

conversation. We have nothing to fear while God is with us, but He

cannot possibly sanction evil in His people; and every true lover of

holiness will heartily bless Him for this. Could we possibly desire it

to be otherwise? Would we wish the standard of holiness to be lowered

at all? God forbid. All those who love His name can give thanks at the

remembrance of His holiness, and rejoice in the truth that holiness

becometh His house forever? "Be ye holy, for I am holy." It is not by

any means on the pharisaic principle, wrapped up in the words, "Stand

by thyself; I am holier than thou." Thank God, it is not this. It is

not a question of what _we_ are, but of what _He_ is. Our character

and conduct are to be formed by the truth of what God is. Marvelous

grace! Precious privilege!

God must have His people like Himself. If they forget this, He will

surely remind them of it. If He, in infinite grace, links His name

and His glory with us, it behooves us to look well to our habits and

ways, lest we bring any reproach on that name. Is this legal bondage?

Nay, it is the holiest liberty. We may rest perfectly assured of this,

that we are never further removed from legality than when treading

that path of true holiness which becomes all those who bear the name

of Christ. "Having therefore these promises, dearly beloved, let us

cleanse ourselves from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit,

perfecting holiness in the fear of God."

This great truth holds good at all times. We see it in the ruins of

Jericho. We read it in the valley of Achor. What was it that caused

the frowning walls and towering bulwarks of Jericho to fall down at

the sound of rams' horns and the shout of the people? The presence of

Jehovah. And it mattered not if it was but the city of Jericho or the

whole land of Canaan, before that invincible Presence.

But what means the humiliating defeat before the insignificant city of

Ai? How comes it to pass that the hosts of Israel, so recently

triumphant at Jericho, have to flee ignominiously before a mere

handful of men at Ai? Ah, the answer tells a sorrowful tale! Here it

is; let us harken to it, and ponder it in the deepest depths of our

heart. Let us seek to profit by it. Let us be solemnly warned by it.

It has been written for our admonition. The Holy Ghost has taken the

pains to record it for our learning. Woe be to the one who turns a

deaf ear to the warning voice!

"But the children of Israel committed a trespass in the accursed

thing: for Achan, the son of Carmi, the son of Zabdi, the son of

Zerah, of the tribe of Judah, took of the accursed thing: and the

anger of the Lord was kindled against"--whom? Achan merely? or his

household, or his family, or his tribe? Nay, but "against the children

of Israel"! The whole assembly was involved in the evil. How was this?

The divine presence imparted a unity to the whole assembly; it bound

them all together in such a manner as to involve all in the sin of the

one. It was one assembly, and hence it was impossible for any one to

take independent ground. The sin of each was the sin of all, because

God was in their midst, and He could not countenance unjudged evil.

The whole congregation was involved, and had to clear itself of the

evil ere Jehovah could lead it on to victory. Had He allowed them to

triumph at Ai, it would have argued that He was indifferent to the sin

of His people, and that He could give the sanction of His presence to

"an accursed thing," which were simply blasphemy against His holy

name.

"And Joshua sent men from Jericho to Ai, which is beside Beth-aven, on

the east side of Bethel, and spake unto them, saying, Go up and view

the country. And the men went up and viewed Ai. And they returned to

Joshua, and said unto him, Let not all the people go up; but let about

two or three thousand men go up and smite Ai;"--more easily said than

done;--"and make not all the people to labor thither; for they are but

few"--yet quite too many for Israel with an Achan in the camp. "So

there went up thither of the people about three thousand men; and they

fled before the men of Ai. And the men of Ai smote of them about

thirty and six men: for they chased them from before the gate even

unto Shebarim, and smote them in the going down: wherefore the hearts

of the people melted, and became as water.

"And Joshua rent his clothes, and fell to the earth upon his face

before the ark of the Lord until the eventide, he and the elders of

Israel, and put dust upon their heads."

Here was a strange and unlooked-for experience. "And Joshua said,

Alas, O Lord God, wherefore hast Thou at all brought this people over

Jordan, to deliver us into the hand of the Amorites, to destroy us?

would to God we had been content, and dwelt on the other side Jordan!

O Lord, what shall I say when Israel turneth their backs before their

enemies? For the Canaanites and all the inhabitants of the land shall

hear of it, and shall environ us round, and cut off our name from the

earth: and what wilt Thou do unto Thy great name?"

Joshua, that beloved and honored servant of God, did not see, did not

understand, that it was the very glory of that "great name" which

necessitated the defeat at Ai, just as it had achieved the victory at

Jericho. But there were other elements in that glory besides power.

There was holiness, and that holiness rendered it impossible for Him

to lend the sanction of His presence where there was unjudged evil.

Joshua should have concluded that there was something wrong in the

condition of the people. He ought to have known that the hindrance was

with Israel, and not with Jehovah. The same grace that had given them

victory at Jericho would have given it at Ai, if things were right.

But, alas, they were not right; and hence defeat, and not victory, was

the order of the day. How could there be victory with an accursed

thing in the camp? Impossible! Israel must judge the evil, or Jehovah

must judge Israel. To have given them a victory at Ai would have been

a reproach and a dishonor to the One whose name was called upon them.

The divine presence absolutely demanded judgment upon the evil; and

until that was executed, further progress in the conquest of Canaan

was out of the question. "Be ye clean that bear the vessels of the

Lord." "Holiness becometh Thy house, O Lord, for ever."

"And the Lord said unto Joshua, Get thee up; wherefore liest thou thus

upon thy face? _Israel hath sinned_,"--not merely Achan,--"and they

have also transgressed My covenant which I commanded them: for they

have even taken of the accursed thing, and have also stolen, and

dissembled also, and they have put it even among their own stuff.

_Therefore the children of Israel could not stand before their

enemies_, but turned their backs before their enemies, because they

were accursed: neither will I be with you any more, except ye destroy

the accursed from among you."

This is peculiarly solemn. The whole congregation is held responsible

for the evil. "A little leaven leaveneth the whole lump." Unbelief may

inquire how all are involved in the sin of one; but the word of God

definitely settles the question--"_Israel_ hath sinned"--"_they_ have

taken"--"_they _have stolen"--"_they_ have dissembled." The assembly

was one; one in privilege, one in responsibility. As such, the sin of

one was the sin of all, and all were called upon to clear themselves

thoroughly by putting away the accursed thing from among them. There

was not a single member of that large congregation who was not

affected by Achan's sin. This may seem strange to mere nature, but

such is the solemn and weighty truth of God. It was true in the

assembly of Israel of old, and assuredly it is not less true in the

Church of God now. No one could take independent ground in the

assembly of Israel; how much less can he take it in the Church of God?

There were over six hundred thousand people who, to speak after the

manner of men, were wholly ignorant of what Achan had done; and yet

God's word to Joshua was, "Israel hath sinned." All were involved; all

were affected; and all had to clear themselves ere Jehovah could again

lead them on to victory. The presence of God in the midst of the

Assembly formed the unity of all; and the presence of the Holy Ghost

in the Church of God, the body of Christ now on the earth, binds all

up in one divine, indissoluble unity. Hence, to talk of independency

is to deny the very foundation-truth of the Church of God, and to

prove beyond all question that we understand neither its nature nor

its unity as set forth on the page of inspiration.

And if evil creeps into an assembly, how is it to be met? Here it is:

"Up, sanctify the people, and say, Sanctify yourselves against

to-morrow: for thus saith the Lord God of Israel, There is an accursed

thing in the midst of thee, O Israel: thou canst not stand before

thine enemies, until ye take away the accursed thing from among you."

Were they one in privilege? Were they one in the enjoyment of the

glory and strength which the divine Presence secured? Were they one in

the splendid triumph at Jericho? Who would deny all this? Who would

wish to deny it? Why, then, seek to question their oneness in

responsibility--their oneness in respect to the evil in their midst,

and all its humbling consequences? Surely, if there was unity in

anything, there was unity in everything. If Jehovah was the God of

Israel, He was the God of all, the God of each; and this grand and

glorious fact was the solid basis both of their high privileges and

their holy responsibilities. How could evil exist in such an assembly,

and a single member be unaffected by it? How could there be an

accursed thing in their very midst, and a single member not be

defiled? Impossible. We may reason and argue about it until the tongue

cleaves to the roof of the mouth, but all the reasoning and argument

in the world cannot touch the truth of God, and that truth declares

that "a little leaven leaveneth the whole lump."

But how is the evil to be discovered? The presence of God reveals it.

The self-same power that had leveled the walls of Jericho, detected,

revealed and judged the sin of Achan. It was the double effect of the

same blessed Presence, and Israel was called to share in the one as

well as in the other. To attempt to separate the two is folly,

ignorance, or wickedness. It cannot be done, and ought not to be

attempted.

PART II.

We must ever remember, that, in the history of God's ways with His

people, privilege and responsibility are intimately bound up together.

To talk of privilege, or think of enjoying it, while neglecting the

responsibility, is a gross delusion. No true lover of holiness could

think for a moment of separating them; nay, he must ever delight in

strengthening and perpetuating the precious link.

Thus, for example, in Israel's case, who could estimate aright the

high privilege of having Jehovah dwelling in their midst? By day and

by night, there He was, to guide and guard, shield and shelter them;

to meet their every need, to give them bread from heaven, and bring

them forth water out of the rock. His presence was a safeguard against

every foe; no weapon formed against them could prosper; not a dog

might move his tongue against them; they were at once invulnerable and

invincible; with God in their midst they had nothing whatever to fear.

He charged Himself with all their wants, whether great or small. He

looked after their garments, that they might not wax old; He looked

after their feet, that they might not swell; He covered them with the

shield of His favor, so that no arrow might touch them; He stood

between them and every foe, and flung back in the enemy's face every

accusation.

Thus much as to the high privilege. But mark the corresponding and

connected responsibility. See how both are indissolubly bound up

together in the following weighty words: "For the Lord thy God walketh

in the midst of thy camp, to deliver thee, and to give up thine

enemies before thee: _therefore shall thy camp be holy; that He see no

unclean thing in thee, and turn away from thee_."

Precious privilege! Solemn responsibility! Who would dare to dissolve

the hallowed connection? Had Jehovah deigned to come down into their

midst, and walk with them, and tabernacle among them? Had He, in

infinite grace, condescended to be their traveling companion? Was He

there for the exigence of every hour? Yes, blessed be His name. If so,

then what did His presence demand? We have seen something of what His

presence _secured_; but what did it _demand_? Holiness! Israel's whole

conduct was to be regulated by the great fact of the divine Presence

in their midst. Not only their great public national institutions, but

their most private habits, were to be brought under the controlling

influence of Jehovah's presence with them. He regulated what they were

to eat, what they were to wear, how they were to carry themselves in

all the scenes, circumstances and relationships of daily life. By

night and by day, sleeping and waking, sitting in the house or walking

by the way, alone or in company, He looked after them. Nothing was to

be allowed in any wise inconsistent with the holiness and purity which

became the presence of the Holy One of Israel.

Was all this irksome? Were the privileges irksome? Was it irksome to

be fed, clothed, guided, guarded and cared for in every possible way?

Was it irksome to repose beneath the overshadowing wings of the God of

Israel? Surely not. Why, then, should it be irksome to keep their

persons, their habits and their dwellings clean? Must not every true

heart, every upright mind, every tender conscience, accept as

thoroughly the responsibility which the divine Presence necessarily

involves as the privileges which it infallibly secures? Yea, rather

must we not rank the very responsibility itself among our richest and

rarest privileges? Unquestionably. Every true lover of holiness will

esteem it a signal mercy--a very high order of blessing--to walk in

company with One whose presence detects and condemns every form of

evil. "Thy testimonies are very sure; holiness becometh Thy house, O

Lord, for ever."

The foregoing train of thought will enable us in some measure to

understand the history of Achan, in Josh. vii.--a history solemn and

impressive in the highest degree--a history which utters in our

hearing, with deepest emphasis, words which our careless hearts are

only too ready to forget, "God is greatly to be feared in the assembly

of His saints, and to be had in reverence of all them that are about

Him." Had Achan remembered this, it would have taught him the holy

necessity of nipping in the very bud the covetousness of his heart,

and thus have spared the whole assembly the humiliating defeat at Ai,

and all the consequent sorrow and discipline. How terrible to think

of one man, for the sake of a little personal gain, which at best

could last but for a moment, plunging a whole congregation into the

deepest trouble! and, what was worse than all, dishonoring and

grieving that blessed One who had deigned, in His infinite goodness,

to take up His abode in their midst! How well it would be if each one

of us, when tempted to commit any secret sin, would just pause and ask

himself the question, "How can I do this thing, and grieve the Holy

Spirit of God who dwells in me, and bring leaven into the assembly of

God's people?" We ought to remember that our private walk has a direct

bearing upon all the members of the body. We are either helping or

hindering the blessing of all. We are none of us independent atoms; we

are members of a body incorporated by the presence of the Holy Ghost;

and if we are walking in a loose, carnal, worldly, self-indulgent

spirit, we are grieving the Spirit, and injuring all the members. "But

God hath tempered the body together ... that there should be no schism

in the body; but that the members should have the same care one for

another. And whether one member suffer, all the members suffer with

it; or one member be honored, all the members rejoice with it" (1 Cor.

xii. 24-26).

It may seem hard, to some, to grasp this great practical truth--hard

to see how our private condition and conduct can affect our

fellow-members; but the simple and obvious fact is, we must either

admit this, or maintain the unscriptural and foolish notion that each

Christian is an independent person, having no connection with the

whole body of believers. If he be a member of a body, all the members

of which are bound together, and linked with the Head by the personal

indwelling of the Holy Ghost, then, verily, it follows that his walk

and ways affect all his fellow-members just as really as, if any

member of the human body suffers, all the other members feel it. If

there is anything wrong with the hand, the foot feels it. How is this?

Because the head feels it. The communication, in every instance, is

with the head first, and from the head to the members.

Now, though Achan was not a member of a body, but merely of a

congregation, yet we see how his private conduct affected the whole

assembly. This is all the more striking, inasmuch as the great truth

of the one body was not unfolded, and could not be until--redemption

being a grand, accomplished fact--the Head took His seat on the throne

of God, and sent down the Holy Ghost to form the body, and link it, by

His personal presence and indwelling, to the Head in heaven. If the

secret sin of Achan affected every member of the congregation of

Israel, how much more (may we not say?) doth the secret sin of any

member of the body of Christ affect all the members thereof!

Let us never forget this weighty truth. May we keep it ever in the

remembrance of our hearts, that so we may see the urgent need of a

careful, tender, holy walk; that we may not dishonor our glorious

Head, grieve the blessed indwelling Spirit, or injure the feeblest

member of that body of which, by the sovereign grace of God and the

precious blood of Christ, we form a part.

But we must proceed with our subject, and in so doing call the special

attention of the reader to the way in which the sin of Achan was

traced home to him. It is all most solemn. He had little idea whose

eye was resting upon him when he was carrying on his secret

wickedness. He would, no doubt, think himself all right, and very

successful, when he had the money and the garment safely hidden in his

tent. Fatal, guilty, wretched treasure! Unhappy man! How dreadful is

the love of money! How terrible is the blinding power of sin! It

hardens the heart, deadens the conscience, darkens the understanding,

ruins the soul, and in the case before us brought defeat and disaster

upon the whole people of which he formed a part.

"And the Lord said unto Joshua, Get thee up; wherefore liest thou thus

upon thy face?" There is a time for lying on the face, and there is a

time for standing on our feet; a time for devout prostration, and a

time for decided action. The instructed soul will know the time for

each. "Israel hath sinned, and they have also transgressed My covenant

which I commanded them; for they have even taken of the accursed

thing, and have also stolen, and dissembled also, and they have put it

even among their own stuff. Therefore the children of Israel could

not stand before their enemies, but turned their backs before their

enemies, because they were accursed: neither will I be with you any

more, except ye destroy the accursed from among you. Up, sanctify the

people, and say, Sanctify yourselves against to-morrow: for thus saith

the Lord God of Israel, There is an accursed thing in the midst of

thee, O Israel: _thou canst not stand before thine enemies_, until ye

take away the accursed thing from among you."

How peculiarly solemn is all this! how very arresting! how

soul-subduing! God's people--those who bear His name, and profess to

hold His truth, who stand identified with Him in this world--must be

holy. He cannot lend the sanction of His presence to that which is

unholy or impure. Those who enjoy the high privilege of being

associated with God are solemnly responsible to keep themselves

unspotted from the world, else He must take down the rod of discipline

and do His strange work in their midst. "Be ye clean that bear the

vessels of the Lord."

"Thou canst not stand before thine enemies, until ye take away the

accursed thing from among you. In the morning therefore ye shall be

brought according to your tribes: and it shall be, that the tribe

which the Lord taketh shall come according to the families thereof;

and the family which the Lord shall take shall come by households; and

the household which the Lord shall take shall come man by man."

Ah, this was coming to close quarters! The sinner might seek to

persuade himself that discovery was impossible; he might cherish the

fond hope of escaping amid the many thousands of Israel. Miserable

delusion! He might be sure his sin would find him out. The self-same

Presence that secured individual blessing, secured with equal fidelity

the detection of the most secret individual sin. Escape was

impossible. If Jehovah was in the midst of His people to lay Jericho

in ruins at their feet, He was there also to lay bare, in its deepest

roots, the sin of the congregation, and to bring forth the sinner from

his hiding-place to bear the penalty of his wickedness.

How searching are God's ways! First, the twelve tribes are summoned,

that the transgressor might be manifested. Then, one tribe is fixed

upon. Nearer still! the family is fixed upon! And yet nearer! the very

household is actually singled out; and, last of all, "_man by man_!"

Thus, out of six hundred thousand people, the all-searching eye of

Jehovah reads the sinner through and through, and marks him off before

the assembled thousands of Israel.

"And it shall be that he that is taken with the accursed thing shall

be burnt with fire, he and all that he hath: because he hath

transgressed the covenant of the Lord, and because he hath wrought

folly in Israel.

"So Joshua rose up early in the morning, and brought Israel by their

tribes; and the tribe of Judah was taken: and he brought the family

of Judah; and he took the family of the Zarhites: and he brought the

family of the Zarhites man by man; and Zabdi was taken: and he brought

his household man by man; and Achan, the son of Carmi, the son of

Zabdi, the son of Zerah, of the tribe of Judah, was taken."

"Our God is a consuming fire." He cannot tolerate evil in the ways of

His people. This accounts for the solemn scene before us. The natural

mind may reason about all this--it may marvel why the taking of a

little money and a garment from amid the spoils of a doomed city

should involve such awful consequences and entail such a severe

punishment. But the natural mind is incapable of understanding the

ways of God. And may we not ask the objector, How could God sanction

evil in His people? How could He go on with it? What was to be done

with it? If He was about to execute judgment upon the seven nations of

Canaan, could He possibly be indifferent to sin in His people? Most

assuredly not. His word is, "You only have I known of all the families

of the earth; therefore will I punish you for your iniquities." The

very fact of His taking them into relationship with Himself was the

ground of His dealing with them in holy discipline.

It is the height of folly for man to reason about the severity of

divine judgment, or the apparent lack of proportion between the sin

and the punishment. All such reasoning is false and impious. What was

it that brought in all the misery, the sorrow, the desolation, the

sickness, pain, and death--all the untold horrors of the last six

thousand years? What was the source of it all? Just the one little

act--as man would call it--of eating a bit of fruit? But this little

act was that terrible thing called sin--yea, rebellion--against God!

And what was needed to atone for this? How was it to be met? What

stands over against it as the only adequate expression of the judgment

of a holy God?--What? The burning in the valley of Achor? Nay. The

everlasting burnings of hell? Nay; something far deeper and more

solemn still. What? The cross of the Son of God! The awful mystery of

the death of Christ!--that terrible cry, "My God, My God, why hast

Thou forsaken Me?" Let men remember this, and cease to reason.

PART III.

It is always well for the Christian to be able to give a calm and

decided answer to the objection which infidelity is sure to offer to

the actings of divine government. The answer is this: "Shall not the

Judge of all the earth do right?" If the creature is to be allowed to

judge the Creator, there is an end of all government in the vast

universe of God. Hence, when we hear men daring to pronounce judgment

upon the ways of God, and undertaking to decide what is or what is not

fit for God to do, this grand preliminary question invariably suggests

itself, "Who is to be judge?" Is man to judge God? or is God to judge

man? If the former, there is no God at all; and if the latter, then

man has to bow his head in reverent silence, and own his utter

ignorance and folly.

The fact is, if man could fathom the government of God, he would no

longer be man, but God. What contemptible folly, therefore, for a

poor, shallow, ignorant, short-sighted mortal to attempt to pronounce

an opinion upon the profound mysteries of divine government! His

opinion is not only utterly worthless, but, in the judgment of every

truly pious mind, positively impious and blasphemous--a daring insult

offered to the throne, to the nature and to the character of God, for

which he will, most assuredly, have to answer before the

judgment-seat of Christ, unless he repent and find pardon through the

blood of the cross.

The foregoing line of thought has suggested itself in connection with

the solemn scene in the valley of Achor. The unbelieving mind may be

disposed to start an objection on the ground of the apparent severity

of the judgment; to institute a comparison between the offence and the

punishment; to call in question the equity of Achan's children being

involved in their father's sin.

To all this we simply reply, "Are we competent to judge?" If any one

thinks he is, it is tantamount to saying that God is not fit to govern

the world, but should give place to man. This is the real root of the

whole matter. Infidelity wants to get rid of God altogether, and set

up man in His place. If God is to be God, then, most certainly, His

ways, the actings of His government, the mysteries of His providence,

His purposes, His counsels and His judgments must lie far beyond the

range of the greatest human or angelic mind. Neither angel, man nor

devil can comprehend Deity. Let men own this, and hush into eternal

silence their puny, ignorant and contemptible reasonings. Let them

take up the language of Job when his eyes were opened: "Then Job

answered the Lord, and said, I know that Thou canst do everything, and

that no thought can be withholden from Thee. Who is he that hideth

counsel without knowledge? therefore have I uttered that I understood

not; things too wonderful for me, which I knew not. Hear, I beseech

Thee, and I will speak: I will demand of Thee, and declare Thou unto

Me. I have heard of Thee by the hearing of the ear; but now mine eye

seeth Thee: wherefore I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes."

When the soul gets into this attitude, there is an end of all infidel

questions. Till then there is little use in discussion.

Let us now turn for a few moments to contemplate the solemn scene in

the valley of Achor; and let us remember that "whatsoever things were

written aforetime, were written for our learning." May we learn to

watch with holy jealousy the incipient workings of evil in our hearts.

It is on these men ought to sit in judgment, and not on the pure and

perfect actings of divine government.

Joshua's address to Achan is solemn, weighty, and powerful: "My son,

give, I pray thee, glory to the Lord God of Israel, and make

confession unto Him; and tell me now what thou hast done; hide it not

from me."

Here is the all-important matter. "Give glory to Jehovah, God of

Israel." All hinges upon this. The Lord's glory is the one perfect

standard by which all is to be judged--the perfect gauge by which

everything is to be measured--the perfect touchstone by which all is

to be tried. The one great question for the people of God in all ages

and in all dispensations is this: _What is suited to the glory of

God?_ In comparison with this, all other questions are less than

secondary. It is not a question of what is suitable to us, or what we

can tolerate or agree with. This is a very minor consideration indeed.

What we have ever to look to, and think of, and provide for, is the

glory of God. We have to ask ourselves the question, in reference to

everything that comes before us, "Will this comport with the glory of

God?" If not, let us, by His grace, fling it aside.

Well would it have been for Achan had he thought of this when his eye

rested on the cursed treasure! What misery it would have saved him!

What sorrow and trouble it would have saved his brethren! But, alas,

alas, people forget all this when lust dims the eye and vanity and

folly possess the heart! and onward they go until the heavy judgment

of a holy, sin-hating God overtakes them. And then, forsooth, men

presume to comment upon such judgment as unworthy of a gracious and

beneficent Being. Ignorant presumption! They would fain have a god of

their own imagination, one like themselves, who can make light of sin

and tolerate all sorts of evil. The God of the Bible, the God of

Christianity, the God of the Cross, the God and Father of our Lord

Jesus Christ, does not suit such infidel reasoners. Their deep

heart-utterance to Him is, "Depart from us, for we desire not the

knowledge of Thy ways."

"And Achan said, Indeed I have sinned against the Lord God of Israel,

and thus and thus have I done: when I saw among the spoils a goodly

Babylonish garment, and two hundred shekels of silver, and a wedge of

gold of fifty shekels weight, then I coveted them, and took them; and,

behold, they are hid in the earth in the midst of my tent, and the

silver under it."

Here the dark, defiling stream is traced up to its source in the heart

of this unhappy man. Oh, how little did he think whose eye was resting

on him during the entire progress of this melancholy and disastrous

affair! He thought of but one thing, namely, the gratification of his

covetousness. He _saw_, he _coveted_, he _took_, he _hid_; and there,

no doubt, he thought the matter would end. He would have his treasure,

and no one would be the wiser.

But, ah, the eye of Jehovah, the God of Israel, was upon him--that

holy eye, from which no secret thing is hidden, which penetrates the

depths of the human heart, and takes in at a glance all the hidden

springs of human action. Yes, God saw it all, and He would make Israel

see it, and Achan also. Hence the lamentable defeat at Ai, and all

that followed.

How perfectly solemn!--the whole assembly involved in shameful defeat

and disaster--Joshua and the elders of Israel, with rent garments and

dust upon their heads, prostrate on their faces from morning till

evening! And then, the divine challenge and rebuke! the solemn muster

of the hosts of Israel, tribe by tribe, family by family, household by

household, man by man!

And why all this? Just to trace the evil to its source, bring it out,

and have it judged in the sight of every creature. All created

intelligence must be made to see and confess that the throne of God

can have no fellowship with evil. The same power that had leveled the

walls of Jericho, and executed judgment upon its guilty inhabitants,

was to be manifested in detecting Achan's sin, and in evoking from the

very depths of his convicted heart the confession of his terrible

guilt. He, in common with all his brethren, had heard Jehovah's solemn

charge, "And ye, in any wise keep yourselves from the accursed thing,

lest ye make yourselves accursed, when ye take of the accursed thing,

and make"--not merely any one individual's tent, but--"_the camp of

Israel_ a curse, and trouble it. But all the silver, and gold, and

vessels of brass and iron, are consecrated unto the Lord: they shall

come into the treasury of the Lord."

All this was plain enough. No one could mistake it. It only needed an

attentive ear and an obedient heart. It was as plain as the

commandment delivered to Adam and Eve amid the bowers of Eden. But

Achan, like Adam, transgressed the plain and positive command. Instead

of hiding it in his heart, that he might not sin against God, he

trampled it under his feet, that he might gratify his sinful desires.

He fixed his covetous gaze upon the accursed thing, in itself nothing

but a wretched pile of dust, but, through Satan's power and Achan's

erring heart, turned into an occasion of sin, shame, and sorrow.

O reader, how sad, how sorrowful, how terrible a thing it is to allow

the poor heart to go after the wretched things of this world! What are

they all worth? If we could have all the garments that were ever made

in Babylon; all the gold and silver that ever issued from the mines of

Peru, California, and Australia; all the pearls and diamonds that ever

glittered on the kings, princes and nobles of this world--could they

give us one hour's true happiness? Could they send a single ray of

heavenly light into the soul? Could they impart to us one moment's

pure, spiritual enjoyment? Not they. In themselves they are but

perishable dust, and when used of Satan a positive curse, misery, and

degradation. Not all the riches and material comforts which this world

could offer are worth one hour's holy communion with our heavenly

Father and our precious Saviour. Why should we covet this world's

wretched wealth? Our God will supply all our need according to His

riches in glory by Christ Jesus. Is not this enough? Why should we put

ourselves within the range of Satan's power by setting our hearts upon

the riches, honors, or pleasures, of a world which is ruled by the

archenemy of God and of our souls? How well it would have been for

Achan had he rested content with what the God of Israel had given him!

How happy he might have been had he been satisfied with the furniture

of his tent, the smile of Jehovah, and the answer of a good

conscience!

But he was not; and hence the appalling scene in the valley of Achor,

the record of which is enough to strike terror into the stoutest

heart. "So Joshua sent messengers, and they ran unto the tent; and,

behold, it was hid in his tent, and the silver under it. And they took

them out of the midst of the tent, and brought them unto Joshua, and

unto all the children of Israel, and laid them out before the Lord.

And Joshua, and _all Israel_ with him, took Achan the son of Zerah,

and the silver, and the garment, and the wedge of gold, and his sons,

and his daughters, and his oxen, and his asses, and his sheep, and his

tent, and all that he had: and they brought them unto the valley of

Achor. And Joshua said, Why hast thou troubled us? the Lord shall

trouble thee this day. And _all Israel_ stoned him with stones, and

burned them with fire, after they had stoned them with stones. And

they raised over him a great heap of stones unto this day. So the Lord

turned from the fierceness of His anger. Wherefore the name of that

place was called, The valley of Achor (that is, trouble), unto this

day" (Josh. vii. 19-26).

How deeply solemn is all this! What a warning note it sounds in our

ears! Let us not attempt, under the false influence of one-sided

notions of grace, to turn aside the holy edge of such a passage of

Scripture. Let us read with earnest attention the inscription on that

awful monument in the valley of Achor. What is it? "God is greatly to

be feared in the assembly of His saints, and to be had in reverence of

all them that are about Him." And again, "If any man defile the temple

of God, him will God destroy." And further, "Our God is a consuming

fire."

Weighty, solemn, searching words these!--much needed, surely, in these

days of flippant, easy-going profession, when the doctrines of grace

are so much on our lips, but the fruits of righteousness so little

seen in our lives. May we learn from them the urgent need of

watchfulness over our hearts, and over our private life, that evil may

be judged and nipped in the bud, so that it may not bring forth its

sad, shameful and sorrowful fruit in our practical career, to the

gross dishonor of the Lord and the grievous sorrow of those with whom

we are linked in the bonds of fellowship.

PART IV.

There is a very interesting allusion to "the valley of Achor" in Hos.

ii., at which we may just glance in passing, though it does not

connect itself with the special line of truth which we have had before

us in this series of papers.

Jehovah, in speaking of Israel, by His prophet says: "Therefore,

behold, I will allure her, and bring her into the wilderness, and

speak comfortably unto her. And I will give her her vineyards from

thence, and _the valley of Achor for a door of hope; and she shall

sing there_, as in the days of her youth, and as in the day when she

came up out of the land of Egypt" (vers. 14, 15).

What touching grace shines in these words! "The valley of Achor"--the

place of "trouble"--the place of deep sorrow and shame--the place of

humiliation and judgment--the place where the fire of Jehovah's

righteous wrath consumed the sin of His people--_there_ shall be "a

door of hope" for Israel by and by; there, too, she shall sing as in

the days of her youth. How wonderful to hear of songs of praise in the

valley of Achor! What glorious triumphs of grace! What a bright and

blessed future for Israel!

"It shall be at _that day_, saith the Lord, that thou shalt call me

Ishi (my husband), and shalt call me no more Baali (my lord). For I

will take away the names of Baalim out of her mouth, and they shall no

more be remembered by their name.... _And I will betroth thee unto Me

for ever_; yea, I will betroth thee unto Me in righteousness, and in

judgment, and in loving-kindness, and in mercies: I will even betroth

thee unto Me in faithfulness: and thou shalt know the Lord."

From this digression to "the valley of Achor" in the future, we now

return to our special theme; and in so doing we shall ask the reader

to turn with us, for a few moments, to the opening chapters of the

Acts. Here we find the same grand results of the presence of God in

the midst of His people as we have seen in the opening of the book of

Joshua; only in a much more glorious manner, as we might expect.

On the day of Pentecost, God the Holy Ghost came down to form the

Assembly, and take up His abode therein. This great and glorious fact

was grounded on the accomplishment of the work of atonement, as

attested by the resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ, and His

glorification at the right hand of God.

We cannot attempt to unfold this truth in all its bearings in this

brief article; we merely call the reader's attention to the two

practical points which have been before us--namely, the privilege and

responsibility connected with the Lord's presence in the midst of His

people. If He was there to _bless_,--as He most surely was,--He was

also, and quite as surely, there to _judge_. The two things go

together, and we must not attempt to separate them.

And first, then, we see the effect and blessings of the divine

Presence in the Assembly: "And all that believed were together, and

had all things common; and sold their possessions and goods, and

parted them to all, as every man had need." The blessed effect of the

realized presence of the Holy Ghost was to bind their hearts together

in a holy and loving fellowship; to cause them to let go earthly

things, and to lead them to merge their personal interests in the

common good.

Precious fruits! Would that we saw more of them! No doubt times are

changed; but God is not changed, and the effect of His realized

presence is not changed. True, we are not in Acts ii. Pentecostal

times are passed away; Christendom has lapsed in complete failure; the

professing Church has hopelessly fallen. All this is sadly true; but

Christ our Head abides, in all His living power and unchangeable

grace. "The foundation of God standeth sure"--as sure, as safe and as

solid to-day as it was on the day of Pentecost. No change here,

blessed be God; hence we may say, with all possible confidence, that

where His presence is realized, even though it be only by "two or

three" gathered to the name of Jesus, there the same lovely fruits

will be found. Hearts will be knit together; earthly things will be

surrendered; personal interests will be merged. It is not a question

of throwing our goods into a common heap, but of the grace which once

took that special form, and which at all times would lead us, not

merely to surrender our possessions, but ourselves, for the good of

others.

It is a very grave mistake indeed for any one to say, or to think,

that because we are not in Pentecostal times we cannot count on the

presence of God with us in the path of holy obedience to His will.

Such a thought should be judged as sheer unbelief. We are certainly

shorn of many of the Pentecostal gifts, but we are not bereft of the

Giver. The blessed Comforter abides with us; and it is our happy

privilege to be in a position in which we can enjoy His presence and

ministry.

The thing is _to be_ in that position; not merely to _say_ we are in

it, to boast of being in it, but _really_ to be in it. We may well

apply here the pointed question of the blessed apostle, "What doth it

profit, my brethren, though a man _say_" he is on divine ground, if he

be not really there? Assuredly it profits nothing.

But let us not forget that although we are not in Acts ii., but in the

second epistle to Timothy; although we are not in the refreshing

scenes of Pentecost, but in the "perilous times" of "the last days,"

yet the Lord is with those "who call on Him out of a pure heart," and

His presence is all we want. Let us only trust Him, use Him, lean upon

Him. Let us see to it that we are in a position in which we can count

on His presence--a position of entire separation from all that He

judges to be "iniquity"--from the "dishonorable vessels" in "the great

house," and from all those who, having a form of godliness, deny the

power thereof.

These, we may rest assured, are the absolutely essential conditions

on which the divine Presence can be realized by any company of

Christians. We may come together, and form ourselves into an assembly;

we may profess to be on divine ground; we may call ourselves the

assembly of God; we may appropriate to ourselves all those passages of

Scripture which only apply to those who are really gathered by the

Holy Ghost in the name of Jesus; but if the essential conditions are

not there; if we are not "calling on the Lord out of a pure heart"; if

we are mixed up with "iniquity"; if we are associated with

"dishonorable vessels"; if we are walking hand in hand with lifeless

professors who deny in practice the power of godliness--what then? Can

we expect to realize the Lord's presence? As well might Israel have

expected it with Achan in the camp. It cannot be. In order to reach

divine results, there must be divine conditions. To look for the

former without the latter is vanity, folly, and wicked presumption.

Let not the reader mistake our meaning. We are not now treating, or

even touching, the great question of the soul's salvation. This,

precious and important as it is to all whom it may concern, is not at

all our subject in this series of papers on "Jericho and Achor." We

are dealing with the solemn and weighty question of the privilege and

responsibility of those who profess to be the Lord's people, gathered

to His name; and we are specially anxious to impress upon the mind of

the reader that, notwithstanding the hopeless ruin of the professing

Church, its utter failure in its responsibility to Christ as His

witness and light-bearer in the world, yet it is the happy privilege

of "two or three" to be gathered in His name, apart from all the evil

and error around, owning our common sin and failure, feeling our

weakness, and looking to Him to be with us and bless us according to

the unchangeable love of His heart.

Now, to those thus gathered, there is no limit whatever to the measure

of blessing which our ever gracious and faithful Lord can bestow. "He

has the seven spirits of God, and the seven stars"--the fulness of

spiritual power, ministerial gift and authority for His Church. Such

is His style and title in addressing the church at Sardis, which, we

believe, prophetically sets before us the history of Protestantism.

It is not said, as in the address to Ephesus, that He "holds the seven

stars in His right hand." There is a grave difference as to this; and

it is our bounden duty to recognize both the difference and the cause.

When the Church began, on the day of Pentecost, and during the days of

the apostles, Christ, the Head, not only _possessed_ all spiritual

gift, power and authority for His Church, but was owned as _the actual

administrator_ thereof. He held the stars in His right hand. There was

no such thing known or thought of as human authority in the assembly

of God. Christ was owned as Head and Lord. He had received the gifts,

and He dispensed them according to His sovereign will.

Thus it should ever be. But, alas, man has intruded upon the hallowed

sphere of Christ's authority. He presumes to meddle in the appointment

of ministry in the Church of God. Without so much as a single atom of

divine authority, without any ability whatsoever to impart the

necessary gift for ministry, he nevertheless takes upon himself the

solemn responsibility of calling, appointing, or ordaining to the

ministry in the Church of God. As well might the writer of these lines

undertake to appoint a man as an admiral in Her Majesty's fleet, or a

general in her army, as for any man, or body of men, to appoint a man

to minister in the Church of God. It is a daring usurpation of divine

authority. None can impart ministerial gift, and none can appoint to

any branch of the ministry but Christ, the Church's Head and Lord; and

all who undertake to do so will have to account to Him for so doing.

It may be that many who thus act, and many more who sanction or are

identified with such acting, are not aware of what they are doing; and

our God is gracious and merciful in bearing with our feebleness and

ignorance. All this is blessedly true; but as to the principle of

human authority in the Church of God, it is utterly false, and should

be rejected with holy decision by every one who loves, reverences and

adores the great Head of the Church and Lord of the Assembly, who,

blessed be His name, still _has_ the seven Spirits of God and the

seven stars. He has them now just as positively as in apostolic

times; and all who take their true place, the place of self-judgment

and humiliation; all who truly own our common sin and failure, our

departure from first love, first principles; all who really, in true

humility of mind, look to Christ alone for all they want; all who, in

real earnestness of heart and godly sincerity, bow to His word and

confess His name--all such will assuredly prove the reality of His

presence; they will find Him amply sufficient for all their need. They

can count on Him for the supply of all ministerial gift, and for the

maintenance of all godly order in their public reunions.

True, they will feel--must feel--that they are not in the days of Acts

ii., but in the days of 2 Timothy. Yet Christ is sufficient for these,

as He was for those. The difficulties are great, but His resources are

infinite. It were folly to deny that there are difficulties; but it is

sinful unbelief to question the all-sufficiency of our ever-gracious

and faithful Lord. He has promised to be with His people right on to

the end. But He cannot sanction hollow pretension, or proud

assumption. He looks for reality, for truth in the inward parts. He

will have us in our right place, owning our true condition. There He

can meet us according to His infinite fulness, and according to the

eternal stability of that grace which reigns through righteousness

unto eternal life.

But oh, let us never forget that our God delights in uprightness of

heart and integrity of purpose. He will never fail a trusting heart;

but He must be trusted really. It will not do to speak of trusting Him

while in reality we are leaning on our own appliances and

arrangements. Here is precisely where we so sadly fail. We do not

leave room for Him to act in our midst. We do not leave the platform

clear for Him. Thus we are robbed, and that to an extent of which we

have little idea, of the blessed manifestation of His presence and

grace in our assemblies. His Spirit is quenched and hindered, and we

are left to feel our barrenness and poverty, when we might be

rejoicing in the fulness of His love and in the power of His ministry.

It is utterly impossible that He can ever fail those who, owning the

truth of the condition, earnestly look to Him. He cannot deny Himself;

and He can never say to His people that they have reckoned too largely

on Him.

It is not that we are to look for any special display of power in our

midst, anything that might attract public attention, or make a noise

in the world. There are no tongues, no gifts of healing, no miracles,

no extraordinary manifestations of angelic action on our behalf.

Neither are we to look for anything similar to the case of Ananias and

Sapphira--the sudden and awful execution of divine judgment, striking

terror into the hearts of all, both inside and outside the assembly.

Such things are not to be looked for now. They would not comport with

the present condition of things in the Church of God. No doubt our

Lord Christ has all power in heaven and on earth, and He could

display that power now just as He did in Pentecostal times, if it so

pleased Him. But He does not so act, and we can readily understand the

reason. It is our place to walk softly, humbly, tenderly. We have

sinned, and failed, and departed from the holy authority of the word

of God. We must ever bear this in mind, and be content with a very low

and retired place. It would ill become us to seek a name or a position

in the earth. We cannot possibly be too little in our own eyes.

But at the same time we can, if in our right place, and in a right

spirit, fully count on the presence of Jesus with us; and we may rest

assured that where He is--where His most gracious presence is

felt--there we may look for the most precious results, both in the way

of binding our hearts together in true brotherly love, in causing us

to sit loose to all earthly possessions and earthly ties, in leading

us forth in grace and kindness toward all men, and also in putting

away from among us all who would defile the assembly by unsound

doctrine or unholy morals.

* * * * *

P. S.--It is of the utmost importance for the Christian reader to bear

in mind that, whatever be the condition of the professing Church, it

is his privilege to enjoy as high communion and to tread as high a

path of individual devotedness as ever was known in the very brightest

days of the Church's history. We must never draw a plea from the

condition of things around us for lowering the standard of individual

holiness and devotedness. _There is no excuse for continuing a single

hour in connection with anything that will not stand the test of Holy

Scripture._

True, we feel the condition of things--cannot but feel it: would we

felt it more! But it is one thing to feel it, and go through it with

Christ, and another thing to sink under it and go on with the evil, or

give up in despair.

May the Lord, in His infinite grace, produce in the hearts of all His

people a more profound and influential sense of their privileges and

responsibilities, both individually and collectively, that thus there

may be a truer and brighter testimony for His name, and a devoted band

of worshipers, workers and witnesses, gathered out to wait for His

coming!

* * * * *

What raised the wondrous thought?

Or who did it suggest?

"That we, the Church, to glory brought,

Should WITH the Son be blest."

O God, the thought was Thine!

(Thine only it could be,)

Fruit of the wisdom, love divine,

Peculiar unto Thee.

For, sure, no other mind,

For thoughts so bold, so free,

Greatness or strength, could ever find;

Thine only it could be.

The motives, too, Thine own,

The plan, the counsel, Thine!--

Made for Thy Son, bone of His bone

In glory bright to shine.

O God, with great delight

Thy wondrous thought we see,

Upon _His_ throne, in glory bright,

The bride of Christ shall be.

Sealed with the Holy Ghost,

We triumph in that love,

Thy wondrous thought has made our boast,

"Glory WITH Christ above."

THE THREE APPEARINGS.

(Heb. ix. 24-28.)

"For Christ is not entered into the holy places made with hands, which

are the figures of the true; but into heaven itself, _now to appear_

in the presence of God for us: nor yet that He should offer Himself

often, as the high priest entereth into the holy place every year with

blood of others; for then must He often have suffered since the

foundation of the world: but now once in the end of the ages _hath He

appeared_ to put away sin by the sacrifice of Himself. And as it is

appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgment: so Christ

was once offered to bear the sins of many; and unto them that look for

Him _shall He appear_ the second time apart from sin unto

salvation."[2]

[2] The English reader should be informed that the three words which

are rendered in the above passage, "appear," are not the same in the

original Greek; but our object is to deal with the facts set forth,

rather than with the words employed.

The foregoing passage sets before us three great facts in the life of

our Lord Jesus Christ. It speaks of what we may venture to call three

distinct appearings, namely, an appearing in the past; an appearing in

the present; and an appearing in the future. He _hath_ appeared in

this world to do a certain work; He _doth_ appear in heaven to carry

on a certain ministry; and He _shall_ appear in glory. The first is

Atonement; the second is Advocacy; the third is the Advent. And first,

then, let us dwell for a few moments on

THE ATONEMENT,

which is here presented in its two grand aspects, first, Godward; and

secondly, usward. The apostle declares that Christ hath appeared "to

put away _sin_;" and also "to bear the sins of many." This is a

distinction of the utmost importance, and one not sufficiently

understood or attended to, Christ has put away sin by the sacrifice of

Himself. He has glorified God in reference to the question of sin in

its very broadest aspect. This He has done altogether irrespective of

the question of persons or the forgiveness of the _sins_ of

individuals. Even though every soul, from the days of Adam down to the

very last generation, were to reject the proffered mercy of God, yet

would it hold good that the atoning death of Christ had put away

sin--had destroyed the power of Satan--had perfectly glorified God,

and laid the deep and solid foundation on which all the divine

counsels and purposes can rest for ever.

It is to this fact that the Baptist refers in these memorable words,

"Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the _sin_ of the world"

(John i. 29). The Lamb of God has wrought a work in virtue of which

every trace of sin shall be obliterated from the creation of God. He

has perfectly vindicated God in the very midst of a scene in which He

had been so grossly dishonored, in which His character had been

traduced and His majesty insulted. He came to do this at all cost,

even at the sacrifice of Himself. He sacrificed Himself in order to

maintain, in view of heaven, earth and hell, the glory of God. He has

wrought a work by the which God is infinitely more glorified than if

sin had not entered at all. God shall reap a richer harvest by far in

the fields of redemption than ever He could have reaped in the fields

of an unfallen creation.

It is well that the reader should deeply ponder this glorious aspect

of the atoning death of Christ. We are apt to think that the very

highest view we can take of the cross is that which involves the

question of our forgiveness and salvation. This is a grave mistake.

That question is divinely settled, as we shall seek to show; for the

less is always included in the greater. But let us remember that our

side of the atonement is the less, God's side of it the greater. It

was infinitely more important that God should be glorified than that

we should be saved. Both ends have been gained, blessed be God, and

gained by one and the same work, the precious atonement of Christ; but

we must never forget that the glory of God is of far greater moment

than the salvation of men; and further, that we never can have so

clear a sense of the latter as when we see it flowing from the

former. It is when we see that God has been perfectly and for ever

glorified in the death of Christ, that we can really enter into the

divine perfectness of our salvation. In point of fact, both are so

intimately bound up together that they cannot be separated; but still

God's part in the Cross of Christ must ever get its own proper

preeminence. The glory of God was ever uppermost in the devoted heart

of the Lord Jesus Christ. For this He lived, for this He died. He came

into this world for the express purpose of glorifying God, and from

this great and holy object He never swerved a moment from the manger

to the cross. True it is--blessedly true--that in carrying out this

object He has perfectly met our case; but the divine glory ruled Him

in life and in death.

Now it is on the ground of atonement, looked at in this its higher

aspect, that God has been dealing with the world in patient grace,

mercy and forbearance for well nigh six thousand years. He sends His

rain and His sunbeams upon the evil and upon the good, upon the just

and the unjust. It is in virtue of the atonement of Christ--though

despised and rejected--that the infidel and the atheist live, and

enjoy God's daily mercies; yea, the very breath that they spend in

opposing the revelation and denying the existence of God they owe to

Him in whom they live, move and have their being. We speak not here,

by any means, of the forgiveness of _sins_, or of the soul's

salvation. This is another question altogether, and to it we shall

refer presently. But, looking at man in reference to his life in this

world, and looking at the world in which he lives, it is the Cross

which forms the basis of God's merciful dealing with both the one and

the other.

Furthermore, it is on the ground of the atonement of Christ, in this

same aspect of it, that the evangelist can go forth "into _all the

world_, and preach glad tidings to _every creature_." He can declare

the blessed truth that God has been glorified as to sin--His claims

satisfied--His majesty vindicated--His law magnified--His attributes

harmonized. He can proclaim the precious message that God can now be

just and yet the justifier of any poor ungodly sinner that believes in

Jesus. There is no hindrance, no barrier of any kind whatsoever. The

preacher of the gospel is not to be cramped by any dogmas of theology.

He has to do with the large, loving heart of God, which, in virtue of

atonement, can flow forth to every creature beneath the canopy of

heaven. He can say to each and to all--and say it without

reserve--"COME!" Nay, more, he is bound to "_beseech_" them to come.

"We _pray_ you in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to God." Such is

the proper language of the evangelist, the herald of the cross, the

ambassador of Christ. He knows no less a range than the wide, wide

world; and he is called to drop his message into the ear of every

creature under heaven.

And why? Because "Christ hath put away sin by the sacrifice of

Himself." He has, by His most precious death, changed completely the

ground of God's dealings with man and with the world, so that, instead

of having to deal with them on the ground of sin, He can deal on the

ground of atonement.

Finally, it is in virtue of the atonement, in this broad and lofty

aspect, that every vestige of sin, and every trace of the serpent

shall be obliterated from the wide universe of God. Then shall be seen

the full force of that passage above referred to, "The Lamb of God,

which taketh away the sin of the world."

Thus much as to what we may call the primary aspect of the atoning

death of Christ--an aspect which cannot be too thoughtfully studied. A

clear understanding of this weighty point would tend to remove a great

deal of difficulty and misunderstanding in reference to the full and

free preaching of the gospel. Many of the Lord's honored servants find

themselves hindered in the presentation of the glad tidings of

salvation, simply because they do not see this wide aspect of the

atonement. They confine the death of Christ merely to its bearing upon

the sins of God's elect; and they therefore deem it wrong to preach

the gospel to all, or to invite, yea to beseech and entreat, all to

come.

Now, that Christ did die for the elect, Scripture distinctly teaches

in manifold places. He died for the elect nation of Israel, and for

the elect Church of God--the bride of Christ. But Scripture teaches

more than this. It declares that "He died for _all_" (2 Cor. v. 14);

that "He tasted death for _every man_" (Heb. ii. 9). There is no need

whatever for seeking to avoid the plain force and meaning of these and

kindred statements of inspiration. And further, we believe it to be

quite wrong to add our own words to God's words in order to reconcile

them with any particular system of doctrine. When Scripture affirms

that Christ died for all, we have no right to add the words, "the

elect." And when Scripture states that Christ "tasted death for every

man," we have no right to say, "every elect man." It is our place to

take God's word as it stands, and reverently bow to its authoritative

teaching in all things. We can no more systematize God's word than we

can systematize God Himself. His word, His heart and His nature, are

quite too deep and comprehensive to be included within the limits of

the very broadest and best constructed human system of theology that

was ever framed. We shall, ever and anon, be discovering passages of

Scripture which will not fall in with our system. We must remember

that God is love, and this love will tell itself out to all without

limit. True, God has His counsels, His purposes and His decrees; but

it is not these He presents to the poor lost sinner. He will instruct

and interest His saints about such things; but to the guilty,

heavy-laden sinner, He presents His love, His grace, His mercy, His

readiness to save, to pardon and to bless.

And let it be well remembered that the sinner's responsibility flows

out of what is _revealed_, and not out of what is _secret_. God's

decrees are secret; His nature, His character, Himself is revealed.

The sinner will not be judged for rejecting what he had no means of

knowing. "This is the condemnation, that light is come into the world,

and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were

evil" (John iii. 19).

We are not writing a theological treatise; but we do feel it to be a

matter of the gravest moment to press upon the reader that his

responsibility, as a sinner, is based upon the fact that the aspect of

the salvation of God, and of the atonement of Christ, is most

distinctly and decidedly "unto all," and not merely to a certain

number of the human family. The glorious message is sent forth into

all the world. Every one who hears it is invited to come. This is

grounded upon the fact that Christ has put away sin--that the blood of

atonement has been carried into the presence of God--that the barrier

which sin presented has been flung down and abolished, and now the

mighty tide of divine love can flow freely forth to the very vilest of

the sons of men.

Such is the message; and when any one through grace believes it he can

be further told that not only has Christ put away _sin_, but that also

He has borne his _sins_--the actual sins of all His people--of all who

believe in His name. The evangelist can stand up in the midst of

assembled thousands, and declare that Christ has put away sin--that

God is satisfied--that the way is open for all; and he can whisper the

same in the ear of each and every sinner under heaven. Then, when any

one has bowed down to this testimony--when the repentant,

broken-hearted, self-judged sinner receives the blessed record--he can

be further taught that his _sins_ were all laid on Jesus, all borne

and for ever put away by Him when He died on the cross.

This is the plain doctrine of Hebrews ix. 26, 28; and we have a

striking type of it in the two goats of Leviticus xvi. If the reader

will just turn to the passage he will find there, first, the _slain_

goat; and secondly, the _scape_-goat. The blood of the slain goat was

brought into the sanctuary and sprinkled there. This was a type of

Christ putting away _sin_. Then the high priest, on behalf of the

congregation, confessed all their _sins_ upon the head of the

scape-goat, and they were borne away into a land not inhabited. This

was a type of Christ bearing the sins of His people. The two goats,

taken together, give us a full view of the atonement of Christ, which,

like the righteousness of God in Romans iii., is "unto all, and upon

all them that believe."

All this is most simple. It removes many difficulties out of the way

of the earnest seeker after peace. These difficulties arise in many

cases from the conflicting dogmas of theological systems, and have no

foundation whatever in Holy Scripture. There, all is as plain and as

clear as God can make it. Each one who hears the message of God's

free love is bound, not to say invited, to receive it; and judgment

will, most assuredly, fall upon each and all who refuse or neglect the

proffered mercy. It is utterly impossible for any one who has ever

heard the gospel, or ever had the New Testament in his hand, to get

rid of the awful responsibility that rests upon him to accept God's

salvation. Not a single soul will have to say, I could not believe,

because I was not one of the elect, and did not get power to believe.

No one will ever dare to say or even to think this. If any could take

such ground, then where were the force or the meaning of the following

burning words?--"The Lord Jesus shall be revealed from heaven with the

angels of His power, in flaming fire taking vengeance on them that

know not God, and that obey not the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ"

(2 Thess. i. 7, 8). Will any one ever be punished for not obeying the

gospel if he is not responsible to yield that obedience? Most

assuredly not. "Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?"

But does God send His gospel to people merely to place them under

responsibility and increase their guilt? Far be the monstrous thought!

He sends His gospel to the lost sinner in order that he may be

_saved_, for God is not willing that any should perish, but that all

should come to repentance. All, therefore, who perish shall have none

but themselves to blame.

It is of the very last importance that the reader should be

established in the knowledge and practical sense of what the atonement

of Christ has accomplished for all who simply trust in Him. It is, we

need hardly say, the only basis of peace. He has put away sin by the

sacrifice of Himself; and He has borne our sins in His own body on the

tree. It is, therefore, impossible that any question as to sin or

guilt can ever arise. All has been "once and for ever" settled by the

atoning death of the Lamb of God. True it is--alas, how true!--we all

have sin in us; and we have, daily and hourly, to judge ourselves and

judge our ways. It will ever hold good of us, so long as we are in a

body of sin and death, that "in me (that is, in my flesh) dwelleth no

good thing." But then nothing can ever touch the question of our

soul's perfect and eternal acceptance. The conscience of the believer

is as completely purged from every soil and stain as will be the whole

creation by-and-by. If it were not so, Christ could not be where He

now is. He has entered into the presence of God, there to appear for

us. This leads us in the second place to consider.

THE ADVOCACY.

Very many souls are apt to confound two things which, though

inseparably connected, are perfectly distinct, namely, advocacy and

atonement. Not seeing the divine completeness of the atonement, they

are in a certain way looking to the advocacy to do for them what the

atonement has done. We must remember that though as to our standing we

are not in the flesh but in the Spirit, yet as to the actual fact of

our condition we are in the body. We are in spirit and by faith seated

in heavenly places in Christ; but yet we are actually in the

wilderness, subject to all sorts of infirmities, liable to fail and

err in a thousand ways.

Now it is to meet our present actual state and wants that the

advocacy, or priesthood, of Christ is designed. God be praised for the

blessed provision! As those who are in the body passing through the

wilderness, we need a great High Priest to maintain the link of

communion, or to restore it when broken. Such a One we have, ever

living to make intercession for us; nor could we get on for a single

moment without Him. The work of atonement is never repeated; the work

of the Advocate is never interrupted. When once the blood of Christ is

applied to the soul by the power of the Holy Ghost, the application is

never repeated. To think of a repetition is to deny its efficacy and

to reduce it to the level of the blood of bulls and goats. No doubt

people do not see this, and most assuredly they do not mean it; but

such is the real tendency of the thought of a fresh application of the

blood of sprinkling. It may be that persons who speak in this way

really mean to put honor upon the blood of Christ, and to give

expression to their own felt unworthiness; but, in truth, the best way

to put honor upon the blood of Christ is to rejoice in what it has

done for our souls; and the best way to set forth our own unworthiness

is to feel and remember that we were so vile that nothing but the

death of Christ could avail to meet our case. So vile were we that

nothing but His blood could cleanse us. So precious is His blood that

not a trace of our guilt remains. "The blood of Jesus Christ, God's

Son, cleanseth us from all sin."

Thus it stands in reference to the very feeblest child of God whose

eye scans these lines. "All sins forgiven." Not a trace of guilt

remains. Jesus is in the presence of God for us. He is there as a High

Priest before God--as an Advocate with the Father. He has by His

atoning death rent the veil--put away sin--brought us nigh to God in

all the credit and virtue of His sacrifice, and now He lives to

maintain us by His advocacy in the enjoyment of the place and

privileges into which His blood has introduced us.

Hence the apostle says, "If any man sin, we have"--what? The blood?

Nay, but "an Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous."

The blood has done its work, and is ever before God according to its

full value in His sight. Its efficacy is ever the same. But we have

sinned; it may be only in thought; but even that thought is quite

enough to interrupt our communion. Here is where advocacy comes in. If

it were not that Jesus Christ is ever acting for us in the sanctuary

above, our faith would most assuredly fail in moments in the which we

have in any measure yielded to the voice of our sinful nature. Thus

it was with Peter in that terrible hour of his temptation and fall:

"Simon, Simon, behold, Satan hath desired to have you, that he may

sift you as wheat: but I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail

not: and when thou art converted (or restored), strengthen thy

brethren" (Luke xxii. 21, 32).

Let the reader note this. "I have prayed for thee, that"--What? Was it

that he might not fail? Nay, but that, having failed, his faith might

not give way. Had Christ not prayed for his poor, feeble servant, he

would have gone from bad to worse, and from worse to worst. But the

intercession of Christ procured for Peter the grace of true

repentance, self-judgment and bitter sorrow for his sin, and finally

complete restoration of his heart and conscience, so that the current

of his communion--interrupted by sin, but restored by advocacy--might

flow on as before.

Thus it is with us when, through lack of that holy vigilance which we

should ever exercise, we commit sin: Jesus goes to the Father for us.

He prays for us; and it is through the efficacy of His priestly

intercession that we are convicted and brought to self-judgment,

confession, and restoration. All is founded on the advocacy, and the

advocacy is founded on the atonement.

And here it may be well to assert, in the clearest and strongest

manner possible, that it is the sweet privilege of every believer not

to commit sin. There is no necessity whatever why he should. "My

little children," says the apostle, "these things write I unto you,

that ye sin not." This is a most precious truth for every lover of

holiness. _We need not sin._ Let us remember this. "Whosoever is born

of God doth not commit [or, _practice_] sin; for His seed remaineth in

him: and he cannot sin, because he is born of God" (1 John iii. 9).

This is the divine idea of a Christian. Alas, we do not always realize

it! but that does not, and cannot, touch the precious truth. The

divine nature, the new man, the life of Christ in the believer, cannot

possibly sin, and it is the privilege of every believer so to walk as

that nothing but the life of Christ may be seen. The Holy Ghost dwells

in the believer on the ground of redemption, in order to give effect

to the desires of the new nature, so that the flesh may be as though

it did not exist, and nothing but Christ be seen in the believer's

life.

It is of the utmost importance that this divine idea of Christian life

should be seized and maintained. People sometimes ask the question, Is

it possible for a Christian to live without committing sin? We reply

in the language of the inspired apostle, "My little children, these

things write I unto you, that ye sin not" (1 John ii. 1). And again,

quoting the language of another inspired apostle, "How shall we, that

are dead to sin, _live_ any longer therein?" (Rom. vi. 2.) The

Christian is viewed by God as "dead to sin"; and hence, if he yields

to it he is practically denying his standing in a risen Christ. Alas,

alas, we do sin, and hence the apostle adds, "If any man sin, we have

an Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous: and He is the

propitiation for our sins: and not for ours only, but also for the

whole world."

This gives wonderful completeness to the work on which our souls

repose. Such is the perfect efficacy of the atonement of Christ that

we have one Advocate with us in order that we may not sin, and another

Advocate with the Father if we do sin. The word rendered "Comforter"

in John xiv. 16 is rendered "advocate" in 1 John iii. 1. We have one

divine Person caring for us here, and we have another divine Person

caring for us in heaven, and all this on the ground of the atoning

death of Christ.

Will it be said that in writing thus we furnish a license for

committing sin? God forbid! We have already declared, and would insist

upon, the blessed possibility of living in such unbroken communion

with God--of walking so in the Spirit--of being so filled and occupied

with Christ--as that the flesh, or the old nature, may not appear.

This we know is not always the case. "In many things we all offend,"

as James tells us. But no right-minded person, no lover of holiness,

no spiritual Christian, could have any sympathy with those who say we

_must_ commit sin. Thank God, it is not so. But what a mercy it is,

beloved Christian reader, to know that when we do fail there is One at

the right hand of God to restore the broken link of communion! This He

does by producing in our souls, by His Spirit who dwells in us--that

"other Advocate"--the sense of failure, and leading us into

self-judgment and true confession of the wrong, whatever it be.

We say "_true_ confession," for it must be this if it be the fruit of

the Spirit's work in the heart. It is not lightly and flippantly

saying we have sinned, and then as lightly and flippantly sinning

again. This is most sorrowful and most dangerous. We know nothing more

hardening and demoralizing than this sort of thing. It is sure to lead

to the most disastrous consequences. We have known cases of persons

living in sin and satisfying themselves by a mere lip confession of

their sin, and then going and committing the sin again and again; and

this has gone on for months and years, until God in His faithfulness

caused the whole thing to come out openly before others.

All this is most dreadful. It is Satan's way of hardening and

deceiving the heart. Oh that we may watch against it, and ever keep a

tender conscience! We may rest assured that when a true-hearted child

of God is betrayed into sin the Holy Ghost will produce in him such a

sense of it--will lead him into such intense self-loathing, such an

abhorrence of the evil, such thorough self-judgment in the presence of

God--as that he cannot lightly go and commit the sin again. This we

may learn from the words of the apostle when he says, "If we confess

our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and"--mark

this weighty clause--"_to cleanse us from all unrighteousness_." Here

we have the precious fruit of the double advocacy. It is all presented

in its fulness in this part of the first epistle of John. If any man

sin, the blessed Paraclete on high intercedes with the Father, pleads

the full merits of His atoning work, prays for the erring one on the

ground of His having borne the judgment of that very sin. Then the

other Paraclete acts in the conscience, produces repentance and

confession, and brings the soul back into the light in the sweet sense

that the sin is forgiven, the unrighteousness cleansed, and the

communion perfectly restored. "He restoreth my soul: _He leadeth me in

the paths of righteousness_ for His name's sake" (Ps. xxiii. 3).

We trust the reader will be enabled to understand this great

fundamental truth. Many, we are aware, find it difficult to reconcile

the idea of intercession with the truth of a perfect atonement. If,

say they, the atonement is perfect, what need is there of

intercession? If the believer is made as white as snow by the blood of

Christ--so white that the Spirit of God can dwell in his heart--then

what does he want of a priest? If by one offering Christ has perfected

for ever all them that are sanctified, then what need have these

perfected and sanctified ones of an advocate? Surely we must either

admit the thought of an imperfect atonement or deny the need of

advocacy?

Such is the reasoning of the human mind, but such is not the faith of

Christians. Scripture does most surely teach us that the believer is

washed as white as snow; that he is accepted in the Beloved--complete

in Christ--perfectly forgiven and perfectly justified through the

death and resurrection of Christ; that he can never come into

judgment, but is passed from death unto life; that he is not in the

flesh, but in the Spirit--not in the old creation, but in the new--not

a member of the first Adam, but of the last; that he is dead to sin,

dead to the world, dead to the law, because Christ has died, and the

believer has died in Him. All this is largely unfolded and constantly

insisted upon by the inspired writers. Scores of passages might easily

be quoted in proof, were it needful.

But then there is another aspect of the Christian which must be taken

into account. He is not in the flesh as to the ground of his standing,

but he is in the body as to the fact of his condition. He is in Christ

as to his standing, but he is also in the world as to the fact of his

existence. He is surrounded by all sorts of temptations and

difficulties, and he is in himself a poor feeble creature full of

infirmities, not sufficient even to think anything as of himself. Nor

is this all. Each true Christian is ever ready to acknowledge that in

him, that is, in his flesh, there dwelleth no good thing. He is saved,

thank God, and all is eternally settled; but then he has, _as a saved

one_, to get through the wilderness; he has to labor to enter into

God's rest, and here it is that priesthood comes in. The object of

priesthood is not to complete the work of atonement, inasmuch as that

work is as perfect as the One who accomplished it. But we have to be

carried through the wilderness and brought into the rest that remains

for the people of God, and for this end we have a great High Priest

who is passed into the heavens, Jesus the Son of God. His sympathy and

succor are ours, and we could not get on for one moment without them.

He ever liveth to make intercession for us, and by His ministry in the

heavenly sanctuary He sustains us day by day in the full credit and

value of His atoning work. He lifts us up when we fall, restores us

when we wander, repairs the link of communion when snapped by our

carelessness. In a word, He appears in the presence of God for us, and

there carries on an uninterrupted service on our behalf, in virtue of

which we are maintained in the integrity of the relationship into

which His atoning death has introduced us.

Thus much as to the atonement and advocacy. It only remains for us to

treat of the advent. We wish specially to remind the reader that in

treating of the death of Christ we have left wholly untouched one

grand point therein, namely, our death in Him.[3] This we may, if God

permit, go into on another occasion. It is immensely important as the

power of deliverance from indwelling sin as well as from this present

evil world and from the law. There are many who merely look to the

death of Christ for pardon and justification, but they do not see the

precious and emancipating truth of their having died in Him and their

deliverance in consequence from the power of sin in them. This latter

is the secret of victory over self and the world, and of deliverance

from every form of legality and mere fleshly pietism.

[3] This has been touched upon in "Sin in the flesh, and sin on the

conscience"--a short paper in Miscel. Writings, Vol. ii. [Ed.]

Thus we have glanced at two of the weighty subjects presented to us in

the closing verses of Heb. ix., namely, first, the precious atoning

death of our Lord Jesus Christ in its two aspects; and secondly, His

all-prevailing advocacy at God's right hand for us. It only remains

for us to consider in the third place

HIS ADVENT,

which is here presented to us in immediate connection with those great

foundation truths which have already engaged our attention, and which,

moreover, are held and prized by all true Christians. Is it true that

Christ hath appeared in this world to put away _sin_ by the sacrifice

of Himself? and to bear the _sins_ of the many who through grace put

their trust in Him? Is it true that He has passed into the heavens and

taken His seat on the throne of God, there to appear for us? Yes,

blessed be God, these are grand, vital and fundamental verities of the

Christian faith. Well, then, it is equally true that He shall appear

again, apart from the question of sin, unto salvation. "As it is

appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgment: so

Christ was once offered to bear the sins of many; and unto them that

look for Him shall He appear the second time apart from sin unto

salvation."

Here, then, we have the matter most definitely stated. _As_ truly as

Christ hath appeared on this earth--as truly as He lay in the manger

of Bethlehem--was baptized in the waters of Jordan--was anointed with

the Holy Ghost--was tempted of the devil in the wilderness--went about

doing good, and healing all that were oppressed of the devil--groaned,

and wept, and prayed in Gethsemane--hung upon Calvary's accursed tree,

and died, the Just for the unjust--was laid in the dark, silent

tomb--rose victorious on the third day--ascended into the heavens,

there to appear in the presence of God for His people--_so_ truly

shall He appear ere long in the clouds of heaven to receive His people

to Himself. If we refuse one we must refuse all. If we question one we

must question all. If we are unsettled as to one we must be unsettled

as to all, inasmuch as all rest upon precisely the same basis, namely,

the Holy Scriptures. How do I know that Jesus _hath_ appeared? Because

Scripture tells me so. How do I know that He _doth_ appear? Because

Scripture tells me so. How do I know that He _shall_ appear? Because

Scripture tells me so.

In a word, then, the doctrine of the atonement, the doctrine of the

advocacy, and the doctrine of the advent all rest on one and the same

irrefragible foundation, namely, the simple declaration of the word

of God, so that if we receive one we must receive all.

How is it then that while the Church of God in all ages has held and

prized the doctrines of atonement and advocacy, she has practically

lost sight of the doctrine of the advent? How comes it to pass that

while the first two are regarded as essential, the last is deemed

non-essential? Nay, we may go further and say, how is it that while a

man who does not hold the first two is regarded as a heretic, and

justly so, yet the man who holds the last is by many regarded as

hardly sound in the faith or bringing in strange doctrine?

What answer can we give to these questions? Alas! alas! the Church has

ceased to look for her Lord. Atonement and advocacy are held because

they concern us; but the advent has been virtually let slip, although

it so deeply concerns Him. It is due to the One who suffered and died

on this earth that He should reign; to the One who wore a crown of

thorns that He should wear a crown of glory; to the One who humbled

Himself to the very dust of death that He should be exalted and that

every knee should yet bow before Him.

Most surely this is so; and the God and Father of our Lord Jesus

Christ will see to it and bring it to pass in His own appointed time.

"Sit Thou at My right hand, until I make Thine enemies Thy footstool"

(Ps. cx; Heb. i). The moment is rapidly approaching when that blessed

One who is now hidden from the eyes of men shall appear in glory.

Every eye shall see Him. As surely as He hung upon the cross and is

now seated on the throne, so surely shall He appear in glory.

Reader, seeing these things are so, art thou among the number of

"those that look for Him?" This is a solemn question. There are those

who look for Him and there are those who do not. Now it is to the

former that He shall appear unto salvation. He will come and receive

His people unto Himself, that where He is, there they may be also

(John xiv). These are His own loving words, spoken at the moment of

His departure for the solace and comfort of His sorrowing disciples.

He counted on their being troubled at the thought of His leaving them,

and He seeks to comfort them by the assurance of His coming back. He

does not say, Let not your hearts be troubled, for you shall soon

follow Me. No; but "I will come again."

This is the proper hope of the Christian. Christ is coming. Are we

ready? Are we looking for Him? Do we miss Him? Do we mourn His

absence? It is impossible that we can be in the true attitude of

waiting for Him if we do not feel His absence. He is coming. He may be

here to-night. Ere another sun arises the voice of the archangel and

the blast of the trumpet may be heard in the air. And what then? Why

then the sleeping saints--all who have departed in the faith of

Christ--all the redeemed of the Lord whose ashes repose in the

graveyards and cemeteries around us or in the mighty depths of the

ocean--all these shall rise. The living saints shall be changed in a

moment, and all shall ascend up to meet the Lord in the air (1 Cor.

xv. 51-54; 1 Thess. iv. 13-v. 11).

But what of the unconverted--the unbelieving--the unrepentant--the

unprepared? What of all such? Ah! this is a question of awful

solemnity. It makes the heart sink to reflect upon the case of those

who are still in their sins--of those who have turned a deaf ear to

all the entreaties and all the warnings which God in His

long-suffering mercy has sent to them from week to week and year to

year--of those who have sat under the sound of the gospel from their

earliest days, and who have become, as we say, gospel-hardened. How

dreadful will be the condition of all such when the Lord comes to

receive His own! They shall be left behind to fall under the deep and

dark delusion which God will assuredly send upon all who have heard

and rejected the gospel. And what then? What is to follow this deep

and dark delusion? The deeper and darker damnation of the lake that

burneth with fire and brimstone.

Oh! shall we not sound a note of alarm in the ears of our

fellow-sinners? Shall we not more earnestly and solemnly warn them to

flee from the wrath to come? Shall we not seek by word and deed--by

the double testimony of the lips and the life--to set before them the

weighty fact that "the Lord is at hand"? May we feel it more deeply,

and then we shall exhibit it more faithfully. There is immense moral

power in the truth of the Lord's coming if it be really held in the

heart and not merely in the head. If Christians only lived in the

habitual expectation of the advent it would tell amazingly upon the

unconverted around them.

May the Holy Ghost revive in the hearts of all God's people the

blessed hope of their Lord's return, that they may be as men that wait

for their Lord, that when He cometh and knocketh they may open unto

Him immediately!

"THE TWO MUSTS."

In our Lord's discourse with Nicodemus He twice makes use of the word

"must"--a word of immense depth and moral power in both cases. Let us

ponder it for a few moments; for, though but a word of one syllable,

it contains a volume of most precious evangelical truth in whichever

light we view it.

I. And first, then, we read, "Marvel not that I said unto thee, Ye

must be born again." Here we have the total setting aside of man in

his very best estate. If I must be born again, if I must have a new

life, a new nature, then it matters not in the smallest degree what I

can or cannot boast of. Man, as born of a woman, enters this world

with the image of his fallen parent stamped upon him. Man, as he came

from the hand of his Creator, was made in the "image of God." Man, as

he issues from the womb of his mother, bears the image and likeness of

a fallen creature. Hence the force of our Lord's expression, "Ye must

be born again." It is not said, Ye _must_ mend, ye must try and be

better, ye must alter your mode of living, ye must turn over a new

leaf. Had it been thus, Nicodemus would never have asked, "How can

these things be?" A man of the Pharisees would have understood any or

all of these things. A change of conduct, a change of character, any

moral reform, any self-improvement, is perfectly intelligible to a

Pharisee of every age; but to be told "Ye _must_ be _born_ again" can

only be understood by one who has reached the end of himself and his

doings; who has been brought to see that in him, that is in his flesh,

dwelleth no good thing; who sees himself as a thorough bankrupt

without a certificate, who can never again set up on his own account.

He must get a new life to which the verdict of bankruptcy cannot

apply, and he must trade in the wealth of another, on which creditors

have no possible claim.

There is immense power in this little word "_must_." It bears upon all

alike. It speaks to the drunkard, and says, "You must be born again."

It addresses the most rigid teetotaler, and says, "You must be born

again." It speaks to every class, to every condition, to every grade

and shade of character, to man in every rank and every clime, to every

creed and every denomination, in its own clear, emphatic, sweeping

style, and says, "You _must_ be born again." It bears down with far

more weight upon the conscience than any appeal that could be made on

the ground of moral conduct. It does not interfere in the least with

the question of moral reform, in any one of its many phases. It allows

as broad a margin as any philanthropist or moral reformer may desire.

It does not disturb the various distinctions which society, public

opinion, law or equity has established. It leaves all these things

perfectly untouched, but it raises its clear and commanding voice

above them all, and says to the sinner--to man as born of a woman--to

the worst and to the best of men, "You _must_ be born again." It

demands not reformation, but regeneration; not amendment, but a new

life.

II. What then, it may be asked, are we to do? Whither are we to turn?

How are we to get this new life? Our Lord's second "must" furnishes

the reply. "As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so

_must_ the Son of man be lifted up: that whosoever _believeth_ in Him

should not perish, but have eternal life." This makes all plain. A

second Man has entered the scene. There are two _men_ and two _musts_.

As to the first man, he must be born again, and as to the second Man,

He must be lifted up. In a word, the Cross is the grand solution of

the difficulty, the divine answer to the "How?" Am I completely struck

down by the first "must"? Am I overwhelmed by the insuperable

difficulty which it proposes to me? Am I on the very verge of despair

as I contemplate the apparent impossibility of what, nevertheless,

_must_ be? Oh then, with what power does the second "must" fall on my

heart! "The Son of man must be lifted up." Why must He? Because I must

have new life, and this life is in the Son, but it could only be mine

through His death. The death of the second Man is the only ground of

life to the first--life to _me_. One look at Christ, is lifted up for

me, is life eternal. The soul that simply believes on the Son of God,

as dead and risen, is "born of water and of the Spirit;" he _hath_

everlasting life--he _is_ passed from death unto life, from the old

creation into the new, from the first man to the Second, from guilt to

righteousness, from condemnation to favor, from darkness to light,

from Satan to God. May God the Spirit unfold to the reader's heart the

beauty and power, the depth, the comprehensiveness, and moral glory of

the two "musts."

* * * * *

"Not by works of righteousness which we have done, but according to

His mercy He saved us, by the washing of regeneration, and renewing of

the Holy Ghost; which He shed on us abundantly through Jesus Christ

our Saviour; that being justified by His grace, we should be made

heirs according to the hope of eternal life" (Titus 3: 5-7).

THE THRONE AND THE ALTAR.

(Isa. vi. 1-8).

In this sublime passage of Scripture we notice two prominent objects,

namely, the throne and the altar; and, moreover, we perceive the

action of these two objects upon the soul of the prophet. The entire

scene is full of interest and instruction. May we gaze upon it aright!

"In the year that king Uzziah died, I saw also the Lord sitting upon

_a throne_, _high_ and _lifted up_, and His train filled the temple."

This was a solemn and soul-subduing sight. It is ever a serious matter

for a sinner to find himself standing before the throne of God with

the unanswered claims of that throne bearing down upon his conscience.

Isaiah found it to be so. The light of the throne revealed to him his

true condition. And what was that light? It was the moral glory of

Christ, as we read in the Gospel of John, "These things said Esaias,

when he saw His glory, and spake of Him" (Chap. xii. 41). Christ is

the perfect standard by which every one must be measured. It matters

not what I may think of myself, nor yet what others may think about

me: the question is, What am I as viewed in the presence of Christ?

The law may tell me what I ought to be; conscience may tell me I am

not that; but it is only when the bright beams of Christ's moral

glory pour themselves around me that I am enabled to form a just

estimate of what I am. Then it is that the hidden chambers of my heart

are laid open, the secret springs of action are revealed, the real

condition is laid bare.

But perhaps my reader may ask, What do you mean by the moral glory of

Christ? I mean the light which shone forth from Him in all His ways

when He was down here in this dark world. It was this light that

detected _man_, that disclosed what he was, that brought to light

_all_ that was in him. It was impossible for any one to escape the

action of that light. It was a perfect blaze of divine purity, in view

of which the seraphim could only cry out, "Holy, holy, holy!"

Need we marvel then if when Isaiah saw himself in the light of that

glory he cried out, "Woe is me! for I am undone"? Nay; this was the

proper utterance of one whose heart had been penetrated to its very

centre by a light which makes all things perfectly manifest.

We have no reason to suppose that Isaiah was in any respect worse than

his neighbors. We are not told that the catalogue of his sins was

heavier or darker than that of thousands around him. He may have been

to all human appearance just like others. But ah! my reader, only

remember, I pray you, where the prophet stood when he exclaimed, "Woe

is me!" It was not at the foot of the burning mount when "the

ministration of death and condemnation" was given forth amid

thunderings and lightnings, blackness, darkness and tempest. It was

not there he stood, though even there a Moses had to say, "I

exceedingly fear and quake"; but it was in the presence of the glory

of Christ, the Lord God of Israel, that our prophet stood when he saw

himself to be "unclean" and "undone." Such was his condition when seen

in the light which reveals men and things just as they are.

"_I am undone._" He does not say, "Woe is me! I am not what I ought to

be." No; he saw deeper than this. He stood revealed in the power of a

light which reaches to the most profound depths of the soul and

discloses "the thoughts and intents of the heart." Isaiah had never

before seen himself in such a light--measured himself by such a

rule--weighed himself in such a balance. He now saw himself standing

in the presence of Jehovah's throne without any ability whatever to

meet the claims of that throne. He "saw Jehovah sitting upon a throne,

high and lifted up." He saw himself a helpless, ruined, guilty sinner

at an immeasurable distance from that throne and from the blessed One

who sat thereon. He heard the cry of the seraphim, "Holy, holy, holy";

and the only response which he could send back from the depths of a

broken heart was, "Unclean, unclean, unclean." He beheld a gulf of

guilt and uncleanness separating him from Jehovah which no effort of

his could ever bridge. Thus it was with him in that solemn moment when

he gave forth that cry of a truly convicted soul, "Woe is me!" He was

wholly engrossed with one thought, namely, _his own utter ruin_. He

felt himself _a lost man_. He thought not of comparing himself with

others, nor of seeking out some fellow-sinner worse than he. Ah, no! a

divinely-convicted soul never thinks of such things. There is one

grand, all-pervading idea, and that idea is embodied in the words, "I

am undone."

And be it carefully noted by the reader that the prophet when under

the convicting light of the throne is not occupied with what he had

done or left undone. The question before his soul was not as to the

evil he had done or the good he had left undone. No; it was something

far deeper than this. In a word, he was occupied not with his _acts_

but with his _condition_. He says, "_I am_" what? Defective in many

things? Far behind in my duty? Deplorably short of what I ought to be?

No. These and such-like confessions could never embody the experience

of a heart on which the bright beams of Jehovah's throne had fallen in

convicting power. True it is "we have done that which we ought not to

have done, and left undone that which we ought to have done." But all

this is merely the fruit of a nature which is radically corrupt, and

when divine light breaks in upon us it will always lead us to the

_root_. It will not merely conduct us from leaf to leaf or from branch

to branch, but passing down along the trunk it will lay bare the

hidden roots of that nature which we inherit by birth from our first

parents, and cause us to see that the whole thing is irremediably

ruined. Then it is we are constrained to cry out, "Woe is me!" Not

because my _conduct_ has been defective, but my nature is undone.

Thus it was that Isaiah stood before Jehovah's throne. And oh, what a

place for a sinner to stand in! There are no excuses there--no

palliating circumstances there--no qualifying clauses there--no

blaming of men or things there. There is but one object seen

there--seen in its guilt, its wretchedness and its ruin, and that

object is SELF, and as to that object the tale is easily told. It is

all summed up in that most solemn, weighty, suggestive word, "UNDONE."

Yes; self is undone. That is all that can be said about it. Do what

you will with it, and you cannot make it out to be aught but a

hopeless, undone thing; and the more speedily and thoroughly this is

understood the better.

Many take a long time to learn this foundation truth. They have not,

as it were, stood in the full blaze of the throne, and as a

consequence they have not been led to cry out with sufficient depth,

emphasis or intensity, "I am undone!" It is the glory that shines from

the throne which evokes the cry from the very depths of the soul. All

who have ever stood before that throne have given utterance to the

same confession, and it will ever be found that just in proportion to

our experience of the _light_ of the _throne_ will be our experience

of the _grace_ of the _altar_. The two things invariably go together.

In this day of _grace_ the throne and the altar are connected. In the

day of _judgment_ "the great white throne" will be seen without any

altar. There will be no grace then. The _ruin_ will then be seen

without the _remedy_, and as for the _result_, it will be eternal

perdition. Awful reality! O reader, beware of having to meet the light

of the throne without the provision of the altar!

This conducts us, naturally, to the second object in the interesting

scene before us, namely, _the altar_. The very moment Isaiah gave

utterance to the deep conviction of what he was, he was introduced to

the divine provisions of God's altar. "Then flew one of the seraphims

unto me, having a live coal in his hand, which he had taken with the

tongs from off the altar: and he laid it upon my mouth, and said, Lo,

this hath touched thy lips; and thine iniquity is taken away, and thy

sin purged."

Here, then, we have the rich provisions of Jehovah's altar, which, be

it well remembered, is seen in immediate connection with Jehovah's

throne. The two things are intimately connected in the history and

experience of every convicted and converted soul. The guilt which the

throne detects, the altar removes. If in the light of the throne one

object is seen, namely, ruined, guilty, undone self; then, in the

light of the altar, one object is seen, namely, a full, precious,

all-sufficient Christ. The remedy reaches to the full extent of the

ruin, and the same light that reveals the one reveals the other

likewise. This gives settled repose to the conscience. God Himself has

provided a remedy for all the ruin which the light of His throne has

revealed. "This _hath touched_ thy lips; and thine iniquity _is_ taken

away, and thy sin purged." Isaiah was brought into personal contact

with the sacrifice, and the immediate result was the perfect removal

of _all_ his iniquity--the perfect purgation of _all_ his sin.

Not a single spot remained. He could now stand in the light of that

throne which had just detected and exposed his uncleanness, and know

assuredly by that self-same light that not a speck of uncleanness

remained. The very same light which manifested his sin, made manifest

also the purging efficacy of the blood.

Such, then, is the precious and beautiful connection between the

throne and the altar--a connection which may be easily traced through

the inspired volume from Genesis to Revelation, and through the

history of God's redeemed from Adam down to the present moment. All

who have been really brought to Jesus have experienced the convicting

light of the throne and the peace-giving virtues of the altar. All

have been made to feel their ruin and cry out, "I am undone!" and all

have been brought into personal contact with the sacrifice, and had

their sin purged.

God's work is perfect. He convicts perfectly, and He purges perfectly.

There is nothing superficial when He carries on His mighty work. The

arrow of conviction penetrates to the very centre of the soul, only to

be followed by the divine application of that blood which leaves not

a stain upon the conscience; and the more deeply we are penetrated by

the arrow, the deeper and more settled is our experience of the power

of the blood. It is well to be thoroughly searched at the first--well

to let the chambers of the heart be fully thrown open to the

convicting action of the throne, for then we are sure to get a bolder

grasp of that precious atoning blood that speaks peace to every

believing heart.

And, my reader, let me ask you to pause here for a moment and mark the

peculiar _style_ of the divine action in the case of the prophet.

We all know how much depends upon the way in which a thing is done. A

person may do me a favor, but he may do it in such a style as to do

away with all the good of it.

Now in the scene before us we not only see a marvellous favor

conferred, but conferred after such a fashion as to let us into the

very secrets of the bosom of God. The divine remedy was not only

applied to Isaiah's felt ruin, but applied in such a way as to let him

know assuredly that the whole heart of God was in the application.

"Then _flew_ one of the seraphims unto me." The rapidity of the

movement speaks volumes. It tells us distinctly of heaven's intense

desire to tranquillize the convicted conscience, bind up the broken

heart and heal the wounded spirit. The energy of divine love gave

swiftness to the seraphic messenger as he winged his way down from

Jehovah's throne to where a convicted sinner stood confessing himself

"undone." What a scene! One of those very seraphims that with veiled

face stood above Jehovah's throne crying, "Holy, holy, holy," passes

from that throne to the altar, and from the altar away down to the

deep depths of a convicted sinner's heart, there to apply the balmy

virtues of a divine sacrifice. No sooner had the arrow from the throne

wounded the heart than the seraph from the altar "flew" to heal the

wound. No sooner had the throne poured forth its flood of living light

to reveal to the prophet the blackness of his guilt than a tide of

love rolled down upon him from the altar and bore away upon its bosom

every trace of that guilt. Such is the style--such the manner of the

love of God to sinners! Who would not trust Him?

Beloved reader, whosoever you are, in earnest desire for the welfare

of your immortal soul, permit me to ask you if you have experienced

the action of the throne and the altar? Have you ever retired from all

that false light which the enemy of your precious soul would fling

around you in order to prevent your getting a true insight into your

total ruin? Have you ever stood where Isaiah found himself when he

cried out, "Woe is me! for I am undone"? Have you ever been brought to

own from your heart, "I have sinned"? (Job xxxiii.) If so, it is your

privilege to enter this moment into the rich enjoyment of all that

Christ has done for you on the cross.

You do not need to see any vision. You do not require to see a throne,

an altar, a flying seraph. You have the word of God to assure you

"Christ suffered for sins, the just for the unjust, that He might

bring us to God" (1 Pet. iii. 18). That same word also assures you

that "all that believe _are_ justified from _all_ things" (Acts xiii.

39).

And is not this far better than many visions or many seraphim? Isaiah

believed that his "iniquity was taken away, and his sin purged," when

the angelic messenger told him so. And should you not believe that

Jesus died for you when the word of God tells you so?

But perhaps you say, "How can I know that Jesus died for _me_?" I

reply, In the way that any one may know it--simply by the word of God.

There is no other way of knowing it. But you still object, "I do not

see my name in the word of God." No; and even though your name were

mentioned this would in no wise satisfy you, inasmuch as there might

be hundreds bearing your name. But you see your state, your character,

your condition. You see your photograph flung, with divine precision,

upon the page of inspiration by the action of that light which makes

all things manifest.

Do you not own yourself to be a sinner?--a deep-dyed and ruined

sinner? If so the death of Christ applies itself as perfectly to you

as the "live coal" did to Isaiah when the seraph declared to him,

"This hath touched thy lips." The word is, "If any say I have

sinned,"--What then? He will send him to hell? No; but "he will

deliver him." The very moment you take your true place, and cry out,

"Undone!" all that Christ has done, and all that He is becomes

yours--yours now--yours for ever. You need not make any effort to

improve your condition. Do what you will, and you cannot make yourself

anything but undone. A single effort at improvement is but the

evidence that you know not yet how bad, how _incurably_ bad you are.

You are "undone," and, as such, you have to stand still and see the

salvation of God--a salvation the foundation of which was wrought out

through the cross of Christ--a salvation which the Holy Ghost reveals

on the authority of that Word which is settled for ever in heaven, and

which God "has exalted according to all His name." May the blessed

Spirit lead you _now_ to put your trust in the name of Jesus, that so,

ere you lay down this paper, you may know that your "iniquity _is_

taken away, and your sin purged"! Then you will be able to follow me

while, in a few closing words, I seek to unfold the practical result

of all that has been engaging our attention.

We have seen the complete _ruin_ of the sinner; we have seen the

complete _remedy_ in Christ; let us now look at the _result_, as

exhibited in whole-hearted consecration to the service of God. Isaiah

had nothing to do for salvation, but he had plenty to do for his

Saviour. He had nothing to do to get his sins purged, but plenty to do

for the One who had purged them. Now he gave the willing, ready

expression of obedience to God when, on hearing that a messenger was

needed, he answered, "Here am I; send me." This puts works in their

proper place. The order is absolutely perfect. No one can do good

works until he has experienced, in some degree, the action of the

"throne" and the "altar." The light of the former must shew him what

he is, and the provisions of the latter must shew him what Christ is

ere he can say, "Here am I; send me."

This is a settled, universal truth, established in every section of

inspiration, and illustrated in the biography of the saints of God and

of the servants of Christ in every age, in every condition. All have

been brought to see their _ruin_ in the light of the throne, to see

the _remedy_ in the provisions of the altar ere they could exhibit the

_result_ in a life of practical devotedness. All this is from God the

Father, through God the Son, by God the Holy Ghost--to whom be all the

glory, world without end! Amen and Amen!

LEGALITY AND LEVITY

Feeling, as we trust we do, in some little measure our responsibility

to the souls of our readers, as well as to the truth of God, we desire

to offer a brief but pointed word of warning against two opposite

evils which we can plainly see working among Christians at the present

moment. These are legality on the one hand, and levity on the other.

As to the first of these evils, we have sought in many of our former

papers to deliver precious souls out of a legal state, as being, at

once, dishonoring to God and utterly subversive of their own peace and

liberty. We have endeavored to set forth the free grace of God, the

value of the blood of Christ, the standing of the believer before God

in perfect righteousness and acceptance in Christ. These precious

truths, when applied to the heart in the power of the Holy Ghost, must

deliver it from all legal influences.

But then it frequently happens that persons, when apparently delivered

from legality, run into the opposite evil of levity. This may arise

from the fact that the doctrines of grace are only taken up

intellectually, instead of being wrought into the soul by the power of

the Spirit of God. A great amount of evangelical truth may be taken up

in a very light way, in cases where there has been no deep work of

conscience, no real breaking down of nature, no thorough subjugation

of the flesh in the presence of God. When this is the case there is

sure to be levity of spirit in some form or another. There will be a

very wide margin allowed for worldliness of various kinds--a liberty

given to nature wholly incompatible with practical Christianity. In

addition to these things, there will be exhibited a very deplorable

want of conscience in the practical details of daily life--duties

neglected, work badly done, engagements not faithfully observed,

sacred obligations trifled with, debts contracted, extravagant habits

indulged. All these things we place under the head of levity, and they

are, alas! too common amongst the very highest professors of what is

termed evangelical truth.

Now we deeply deplore this, and would desire to have our own souls, as

well as the souls of all our Christian readers, really exercised

before God about it. We fear there is a great deal of hollow

profession amongst us, a great want of earnestness, truthfulness and

reality in our ways. We are not sufficiently permeated by the spirit

of genuine Christianity, or governed in all things by the word of God.

We do not give sufficient attention to "the girdle of truth," or "the

breastplate of righteousness." In this way the soul gets into a very

bad state indeed; conscience does not act. The moral sensibilities

become blunted. The claims of truth are not duly responded to.

Positive evil is trifled with. Moral relaxation is allowed. So far

from there being the _con_straining power of the love of Christ,

leading forth in the activities of goodness, there is not even the

_re_straining power of the fear of God keeping back from the

activities of evil.

We appeal solemnly to the consciences of our readers as to these

things. The present is a deeply solemn time for Christians. There is a

demand for earnest, deep-toned devotedness to Christ, but this cannot

possibly exist where the common claims of practical righteousness are

neglected. We must ever remember that the self-same grace which

effectually delivers the soul from legality is the only safeguard

against all levity. We have done very little for a man, if anything at

all, if we bring him out of a legal state into a light, easy-going,

careless, unconscientious condition of heart. And yet we have

frequently marked the history of souls, and noticed this sad fact

respecting them, that when they were delivered out of darkness and

bondage they became far less tender and sensitive. The flesh is ever

ready to turn the grace of God into lasciviousness, and therefore it

must be subdued.

It needs that the power of the Cross be applied to all that is of the

flesh. We want to mingle the "bitter herbs" with our paschal feast. In

other words, we want those deep spiritual exercises which result from

positive entrance into the power of the sufferings of Christ. We need

to meditate more profoundly upon the death of Christ--His death as a

victim under the hand of God, His death as a martyr under the hand of

man.

This, beloved reader, is at once the cure for legality and levity.

The Cross, in its double aspect, delivers from both. Christ "gave

Himself for our sins, that He might deliver us from this present evil

world, according to the will of God and our Father" (Gal. i. 4). By

the Cross the believer is as completely delivered from this present

evil world as he is forgiven his sins. He is not saved in order that

he may enjoy the world, but that he may get done with it entirely. We

know few things more dangerous for the soul than the combination of

evangelical truth with worldliness, ease and self-indulgence--the

adoption of a certain phraseology of truth where the conscience is not

in the presence of God--a merely intellectual apprehension of

_standing_ without any earnest dealing with the practical

_state_--clearness in doctrine as to title, without any conscientious

reference to the moral condition.

We trust our reader will suffer the word of exhortation. We should

deem ourselves deficient in faithfulness were we to withhold it. True,

it is not an agreeable task to call attention to practical evils--to

urge the solemn duty of self-judgment--to press upon the conscience

the claims of practical godliness. It were far more grateful to the

heart to unfold abstract truth, to dwell upon free grace and what it

has done for us, to expatiate upon the moral glories of the inspired

volume, in a word, to dwell upon the privileges which are ours in

Christ. But there are times when the true, practical condition of

things among Christians weighs heavily upon the heart and rouses the

soul to make an urgent appeal to conscience in reference to matters of

walk and conduct; and we believe the present to be such a time. The

devil is ever busy, and on the alert. The Lord has granted much light

upon His word for some years past. The gospel has been brought out

with peculiar clearness and power. Thousands have been delivered from

a legal state; and now the enemy is seeking to hinder the testimony by

leading souls into a light, careless, carnal condition--leading them

to neglect the wholesome and indispensable exercise of self-judgment.

It is the deep sense of this that has suggested a word of warning on

"_Legality and Levity_."

* * * * *

"For the grace of God that bringeth salvation hath appeared to all

men, teaching us that, denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, we

should live soberly, righteously, and godly, in this present world;

looking for that blessed hope, and the glorious appearing of the great

God and our Saviour Jesus Christ; who gave Himself for us, that He

might redeem us from all iniquity, and purify unto Himself a peculiar

people, zealous of good works" (Titus ii. 11-14).

The veil is rent:--our souls draw near

Unto a throne of grace;

The merits of the Lord appear,

They fill the holy place.

His precious blood has spoken there,

Before and on the throne:

And His own wounds in heaven declare,

Th' atoning work is done.

'Tis finished!--here our souls have rest,

His work can never fail:

By Him, our Sacrifice and Priest,

We pass within the veil.

Within the holiest of all,

Cleansed by His precious blood,

Before the throne we prostrate fall,

And worship Thee, O God!

Boldly the heart and voice we raise,

His blood, His name, our plea:

Assured our prayers and songs of praise

Ascend, by Christ, to Thee.

A RISEN SAVIOUR'S CHALLENGE

(Luke xxiv.)

The period during which our blessed Lord lay in the tomb must needs

have proved a dark and bewildering moment to many of those who looked

for redemption in Israel. It would demand a calm, clear and vigorous

faith to raise the heart above the heavy clouds which gathered just

then upon the horizon of God's people, and it does not appear that

many possessed such a faith at that trying moment.

We may doubtless look upon the two disciples who travelled together to

Emmaus as illustrating the condition of many, if not all, the beloved

saints of God during the three days and three nights that our beloved

Lord lay in the heart of the earth. They were thoroughly bewildered

and at their wits' end. "They talked together of all these things

which had happened. And it came to pass that, while they communed

together and reasoned, Jesus Himself drew near, and went with them.

But their eyes were holden that they should not know Him."

Their minds were full of surrounding circumstances. All hope seemed

gone. Their fondly cherished expectations were blasted, apparently.

The whole scene was overcast by the dark shadow of death, and their

poor hearts were sad.

But mark how the risen Saviour's challenge falls upon their drooping

spirits! "And He said unto them, What manner of communications are

these that ye have one to another, as ye walk, and are sad?"

Surely this was a reasonable and weighty question for those dear

disciples--a question eminently calculated to recall them, as we say,

to their senses. It was precisely what they wanted at the moment,

occupied as they were with circumstances instead of resting in the

eternal and immutable truth of God. Scripture was clear and plain

enough had they only hearkened to its voice. But instead of listening

only to the distinct testimony of the eternal Spirit in the Word they

had allowed their minds to get thoroughly down under the action and

influences of outward circumstances. Instead of standing with firm

foot on the everlasting rock of divine revelation, they were

struggling amid the billows of life's stormy ocean. In a word, they

had for a moment fallen under the power of death so far as their minds

were concerned, and no marvel if their hearts were sad and their

communications gloomy.

And, beloved reader, does it not sometimes happen that you and I in

like manner get down under the power of things seen and temporal,

instead of living by faith in the light of things unseen and eternal?

Yes, even we who profess to know and believe in a risen Saviour--who

believe that we are dead and risen with Him--who have the Holy Ghost

dwelling in us, do not we at times sink and cower? And do we not at

such moments stand in need of a risen Saviour's challenge? Has not

that precious, loving Saviour ofttimes occasion to put the question to

our hearts, "What manner of communications are these that ye have one

to another?" Does it not often happen that when we come together or

when we walk by the way our "communications" are anything but what

they ought to be? It may be gloomily moping together over the

depressing circumstances which surround us--the weather--the prospects

of the country--the state of trade--our poor health--the difficulty of

making both ends meet--anything and everything, in short, but the

right thing.

Yes, and so occupied do we become with such things that our spiritual

eyes are holden, and we do not take knowledge of the blessed One who

in His tender faithful love is at our side, and He has to challenge

our vagrant hearts with His pointed and powerful question, "What

manner of communications are these that ye have?"

Let us think of this. It really demands our consideration. We are all

far too apt to allow our minds to fall under the power and pressure of

circumstances, instead of living in the power of faith. We get

occupied with our surroundings instead of dwelling upon "things

above"--those bright and blessed realities which are ours in Christ.

And what is the result? Do we better our circumstances, or brighten

our prospects by gloomily moping over them? Not in the smallest

degree. What then? We simply make ourselves miserable and our

communications depressing; and, worst of all, we bring dishonor on the

cause of Christ.

Christians forget how much is involved in their temper, manner, look

and deportment in daily life. We forget that the Lord's glory is

intimately bound up with our daily deportments. We all know that, in

social life, we judge of the character of the head of a household by

what we see of his children and servants. If we observed the children

looking miserable and downcast, we should be disposed to pronounce

their father morose, severe and arbitrary. If we see the servants

crushed and overwrought, we consider the master hard-hearted and

grinding. In short, as a rule, you can form a tolerably fair estimate

of the head of a house by the tone, spirit, style and manner of the

members of his household.

How earnestly, then, should we seek, as members of the household of

_God_, to give a right impression of what He is by our temper, spirit,

style and manner! If men of the world--those with whom we come in

contact from day to day in the practical details of life--if they see

us looking sour, morose, downcast--if they hear us giving utterance to

doleful complaints about this, that and the other--if they see us

occupied about our own things--grasping, griping and driving as hard

bargains as others--if they see us grinding our servants with heavy

work, low wages and poor fare--what estimate can they form of Him whom

we call our Father and our Master in heaven?

Christian reader, let us not despise and turn away from such homely

words. Depend upon it there is need of such in this day of much

profession. There is a vast amount of intellectual traffic in truth

which leaves the conscience unreached, the heart untouched, the life

unaffected. We know we are dead and risen; but when anything occurs to

touch _us_, either in our persons, in our relations, or in our

interests, we speedily shew how little power that precious truth has

upon us.

May the Lord give us grace to apply our hearts very seriously and

earnestly to these things, so that there may be, in our daily course,

a more faithful exhibition of a genuine Christianity--such an

exhibition as shall glorify our own most gracious God and Father, and

our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ--and such, too, as shall afford to

those who come in contact with us a fair specimen of what pure

religion really is in its action upon the entire course and character.

May we all realize more a risen Saviour's presence, and find therein a

triumphant answer to all the dark suggestions of the enemy, the

depressing reasonings of our own hearts, and the deadening influence

of surrounding circumstances. God, in His infinite mercy, grant it,

for Jesus' sake.

It is impossible to read this charming section of inspiration (Luke

xxiv.) and not be struck with what we may venture to call the rallying

power of a risen Saviour's voice and presence. We see the dear

disciples scattered hither and thither in doubt and perplexity, fear

and despondency--some running to the sepulchre; some coming from it;

some going to Emmaus, and some crowded together at Jerusalem, in

various states and conditions.

But the voice and realized presence of Jesus rallied, reassured and

encouraged them all, and brought all together around His own blessed

Person in worship, love and praise. There was an indescribable power

in His presence to meet every condition of heart and mind. Thus it

was; thus it is; thus it ever must be, blessed and praised be His

precious name! There is power in the presence of a risen Saviour to

solve our difficulties, remove our perplexities, calm our fears, ease

our burdens, dry our tears, meet our every need, tranquillize our

minds and satisfy every craving of our hearts.

"Jesus! Thou art enough,

The mind and heart to fill;

Thy life--to calm the anxious soul

Thy love--its fear dispel."

The two disciples going to Emmaus proved something of this, if we are

to judge from their own glowing words to one another. "Did not our

heart burn within us, while He talked with us by the way, and while He

opened to us the Scriptures?" Yes, here lay the deep and precious

secret: "_He_ talked with us"--and "_He_ opened to us the Scriptures!"

What seraphic moments! what high communion! what loving ministry! A

risen Saviour rallying their hearts by His marvellous words and

mighty exposition of the Scriptures.

What was the effect--what the necessary result? The two travellers

instantly returned to Jerusalem to seek their brethren. It could not

be otherwise. If we lose sight of a risen Saviour we are sure to get

away from our brethren, sure to get occupied with our own things; to

pursue our own way--to get into coldness, deadness, darkness and

selfishness. But, on the other hand, the moment we get really into the

presence of Christ, when we hear His voice and feel the sweetness and

power of His love, when our hearts are brought under the mighty moral

influence of His most precious loving ministry, then we are led out in

true affection and interest after all our brethren and in earnest

desire to find our place in their midst in order that we may

communicate to them the deep joy that is filling our own souls. We may

lay it down as a fixed principle--a spiritual axiom--that it is

utterly impossible to breathe the atmosphere of a risen Saviour's

presence and remain in an isolated, independent or fragmentary

condition. The necessary effect of His dear presence is to melt the

heart and cause it to flow out in streams of tender affection toward

all that belong to Him.

But let us pursue our chapter.

"And they rose up the same hour" of the night--thus proving they had

but little business at Emmaus, or how paramount was the blessed object

now before them, "and returned to Jerusalem, and found the eleven

gathered together, and them that were with them, saying, The Lord is

risen indeed, and hath appeared to Simon. And they told what things

were done in the way, and how He was known of them in breaking of

bread. And as they thus spake, Jesus Himself stood in the midst of

them, and saith unto them, Peace be unto you. But they were terrified

and affrighted, and supposed that they had seen a spirit."

They, too, needed a risen Saviour's challenge to bring them to their

senses--to calm their fears and raise their drooping spirits. They

needed to realize the power of His presence as the risen One. They had

just declared to their two brethren from Emmaus that "The Lord is

risen indeed;" but yet when their risen Lord appeared to them they did

not know Him, and He had to challenge their hearts with His stirring

words, "Why are ye troubled? and why do thoughts arise in your hearts?

Behold My hands and My feet, that it is I Myself: handle Me, and see;

for a spirit hath not flesh and bones, as ye see Me have. And when He

had thus spoken, He shewed them His hands and His feet. And while they

yet believed not for joy, and wondered, He said unto them, Have ye

here any meat? And they gave Him a piece of a broiled fish, and of an

honeycomb. And He took it, and did eat before them."

What tender love! What gracious condescension to their weakness and

need! What compassionate entrance into all their feelings, spite of

their folly and unbelief! Gracious Saviour! Who would not love Thee?

Who would not trust Thee? May the whole heart be absorbed with Thee!

May the whole life be cordially devoted to Thy blessed service! May

Thy cause command all our energies! May all we have and all we love be

laid on Thine altar as a reasonable service! May the eternal Spirit

work in us for the accomplishment of these grand and longed-for

objects!

But ere closing this brief article there is one point of special

interest and value to which we must call the attention of the

Christian reader, and that is, the way in which the risen Saviour puts

honor upon the written Word. He rebuked the two travellers for their

slowness of heart to believe the Scriptures. "And beginning at Moses

and all the prophets, He expounded unto them in all the Scriptures the

things concerning Himself."

So also in His interview with the eleven and the rest at Jerusalem. No

sooner had He satisfied them as to His identity than He sought to

conduct their souls to the same divine authority--the Holy Scriptures.

"And He said unto them, These are the words which I spake unto you,

while I was yet with you, that all things must be fulfilled, _which

were written_ in the law of Moses, and in the Prophets, and in the

Psalms, concerning Me. Then opened He their understanding, that they

might understand _the Scriptures_, and said unto them, _Thus it is

written_, and thus it behoved Christ to suffer, and to rise from the

dead the third day: and that repentance and remission of sins should

be preached in His name among all nations, beginning at Jerusalem."

All this is of the deepest possible importance at the present moment.

We feel persuaded that professing Christians everywhere need to have

their hearts stirred up in reference to the paramount claims of the

word of God, its absolute authority over the conscience, its formative

power, its complete sway over the entire course, character and

conduct.

It is to be feared, greatly feared, that Holy Scripture is fast losing

its divine place in the hearts of those who profess to take it as the

divine rule of faith and morals. We have often heard that watchword

sounded in our ears, "The Bible, and the Bible alone, is the religion

of Protestants." Alas! alas! if this motto were ever really true we

fear that its truth at this moment is more than questionable. Very

few, comparatively, even of those who occupy the very highest platform

of profession seem to admit, and still fewer actually acknowledge

practically, that _in all things_--whether of faith or morals--in all

the practical details of life, in the Church, in the family, in the

business and in our private walk from day to day--we are to be

governed absolutely by that commanding, that mighty, that morally

glorious sentence, "It is written"--a sentence enhanced exceedingly in

value and heightened in its moral glory by the telling fact that it

was used thrice by our adorable Lord at the opening of His public

career, in His conflict with the adversary, and sounded in the ears of

His loved ones just as He was about to ascend into the heavens.

Yes, dearly beloved Christian reader, "It is written" was a favorite

sentence with our divine Master and Lord. He ever obeyed the Word. He

yielded a hearty and unqualified submission to its holy authority in

all things. He lived on it and by it from first to last. He walked

according to it and never acted without it. He did not reason or

question, imply or infer, He did not add or diminish or qualify in any

one way--_He obeyed_. Yes; He, the eternal Son of the Father--Himself

God over all blessed for ever--having become a man, lived on the Holy

Scriptures and walked by their rule continually. He made them the food

of His soul, the material and the basis of His marvellous

ministry--the divine authority of His perfect path.

In all this He was our great Exemplar. Oh, may we follow His blessed

footsteps! May we bring ourselves, our ways, our habits, our

associations, our surroundings, to the test of Holy Scripture, and

reject with whole-hearted decision everything, no matter what or by

whom propounded, that will not bear that searching light.

We are most thoroughly persuaded that in hundreds of thousands of

cases the first grand point to be gained is to recall the heart to

that delightful attitude in which the word of God is _fully_ owned

and submitted to as an absolute authority. It is positively labor lost

to be arguing and disputing with a man who does not give Scripture the

self-same place that our Lord Jesus Christ gave it. And when a man

does this there is no need of argument. What is really needed is to

make the word of God the basis of our individual peace and the

authority of our individual path. May we all do so!

O come, Thou stricken Lamb of God!

Who shed'st for us Thine own life-blood,

And teach us all Thy love--then pain

Were sweet and life or death were gain.

Take Thou our hearts, and let them be

For ever closed to all but Thee;

Thy willing servants, let us wear

The seal of love for ever there.

How blest are they who still abide

Close shelter'd by Thy watchful side;

Who life and strength from Thee receive,

And with Thee move, and in Thee live.

Ah, Lord! enlarge our scanty thought,

To know the wonders Thou hast wrought;

Unloose our stammering tongues to tell

Thy love, immense, unsearchable.

First-born of many brethren, Thou!

To whom both heaven and earth must bow;

Heirs of Thy shame and of Thy throne;

We bear Thy cross, and seek Thy crown.

THE REMNANT

PAST AND PRESENT

It is at once interesting, instructive and encouraging to trace

through Scripture the history of what is called "The Remnant." We may

remark at the outset that the fact of there being a remnant proves the

failure of the ostensible witness or professing body, whether Jewish

or Christian. If all were faithful there would, of course, be no moral

ground for a remnant, nothing to distinguish a few from the general

body of professors. The remnant, at any time, will be found to consist

of those who feel and own the common failure and ruin, and count on

God, and cleave to His Word. These are the great characteristic marks

of the remnant in every age. We have failed, but God is faithful, and

His mercy is from everlasting to everlasting.

Now in tracing the history of the remnant in Old Testament times we

find that the lower down we go in the nation's history, the richer the

display of divine grace; and, further, the deeper the moral gloom, the

brighter the flashes of individual faith. This is fraught with the

most blessed encouragement for every true-hearted child of God and

servant of Christ who feels and owns the ruin of the whole professing

Church. It is cheering beyond expression for every faithful soul to be

assured that, however the Church has failed, it is the privilege of

the individual believer to enjoy as full and precious fellowship with

God, and pursue as true a path of discipleship as ever was known in

the brightest days of the Church's history. Let us turn to Scripture

for illustration.

In 2 Chronicles xxx. we have a refreshing and encouraging record of a

passover kept in the reign of Hezekiah, when the visible unity of the

nation was broken up; and failure and ruin had come in. We do not

attempt to quote the whole passage, much as we should like to do so,

for it is most precious and soul-stirring. We merely give the closing

lines as bearing upon our thesis. "So there was great joy in

Jerusalem: _for since the time of Solomon the son of David king of

Israel there was not the like in Jerusalem_." Here then we have a

lovely illustration of the grace of God meeting those of His people

who owned their failure and sin and took their true place in His

presence. Hezekiah and those with him were fully convinced of their

low condition, and hence they did not presume to keep the passover in

the first month. They availed themselves of the provision of grace, as

recorded in Numbers ix., and kept the feast in the second month. "For

a multitude of the people ... had not cleansed themselves, yet did

they eat the passover otherwise than it was written. But Hezekiah

prayed for them, saying, The good Lord pardon _every one that

prepareth his heart to seek God_, the Lord God of his fathers, though

... not according to the purification of the sanctuary. And the Lord

harkened to Hezekiah, and healed the people" (Chap. xxx. 18-20).

Here we see divine grace meeting, as it ever does, those who truly

confess their failure and weakness. There was no assumption or

pretension, no hardness or indifference, no attempt to hide their true

condition, no setting up to be all right; no, they took their true

place, and cast themselves on that exhaustless grace which never fails

to meet a contrite heart.

What was the result? "The children of Israel that were present at

Jerusalem kept the feast of unleavened bread seven days _with great

gladness_: and the Levites and the priests praised the Lord day by

day, singing with loud instruments unto the Lord. And Hezekiah spake

comfortably [to the heart] unto all the Levites that taught the good

knowledge of the Lord: and they did eat throughout the feast seven

days, offering peace offerings, and making confession to the Lord God

of their fathers. And the whole assembly took counsel to keep other

seven days: and they kept other seven days with gladness" (Chap. xxx.

21-23).

Now we may rest assured that all this was most grateful to the heart

of Jehovah, God of Israel. True there was weakness, failure,

short-coming. Things were not externally what they were in Solomon's

day. Doubtless many may have looked upon Hezekiah's acting as

presumptuous in convening such an assembly under the circumstances.

Indeed, we are told that his touching and beautiful invitation was

mocked and laughed to scorn throughout Ephraim, Manasseh and Zebulun.

Thus it is, alas! too often. The actings of faith are not understood,

because the precious grace of God is not understood. But "divers of

Asher and Manasseh and Zebulun _humbled themselves_, and came to

Jerusalem," and they were richly rewarded by coming in for a feast of

fat things such as had not been celebrated since the days of Solomon.

There is no limit to the blessing which grace has in store for the

broken and contrite heart. If all Israel had responded to Hezekiah's

touching appeal, they would have shared in the blessing; but they were

_unbroken_, and therefore _unblessed_! Let us all remember this; we

may rest assured it has a voice and a needed lesson for us. May we

hear and learn!

We shall now pass on to the reign of the pious and devoted king

Josiah, when the nation was on the very eve of dissolution. Here we

have a very striking and beautiful illustration of our thesis. We do

not attempt to go into details, having done so elsewhere.[4]

[4] See a paper entitled, "The Power and Authority of Holy Scripture,

as Illustrated in the Life and Times of Josiah." (15 cts.)

We shall merely quote the few closing lines. "And the children of

Israel that were present kept the passover at that time, and the feast

of unleavened bread seven days. _And there was no passover like to

that kept in Israel from the days of Samuel the prophet; neither did

all the kings of Israel keep such a passover as Josiah kept_, and the

priests, and the Levites, and all Judah and Israel that were present,

and the inhabitants of Jerusalem. In the eighteenth year of the reign

of Josiah was this passover kept" (2 Chron. xxxv. 17-19).

What a very remarkable testimony! In Hezekiah's passover we are

carried back to the brilliant reign of Solomon; but here we have

something brighter still. And if it be asked what it was that threw

such a halo of glory around Josiah's passover, we believe it was the

fact of its being the fruit of holy and reverent obedience to the word

of God in the midst of abounding ruin and corruption, error and

confusion. The activities of faith in an obedient and devoted heart

were thrown into relief by the dark background of the nation's

condition.

All this is full of encouragement and comfort for every true lover of

Christ. Many might have thought it very presumptuous of Josiah to

pursue such a course at such a moment and under such circumstances;

but it was the very reverse of presumption, as we may gather from the

blessed message sent to him from the Lord by the mouth of Huldah, the

prophetess: "Thus saith the Lord God of Israel concerning the words

which thou hast heard; _Because thy heart was tender, and thou didst

humble thyself before God_, when thou heardest His words against this

place, and against the inhabitants thereof, and humbledst thyself

before Me, and didst rend thy clothes, and weep before Me; I have even

heard thee also, saith the Lord" (Chap. xxxiv. 26, 27).

Here we have the moral basis of Josiah's remarkable career; and most

assuredly there was nothing savoring of presumption therein. A

contrite heart, weeping eyes and rent garments are not the

accompaniments of presumption or self-confidence. No; they are the

precious results of the word of God acting on the heart and conscience

and leading to a course of deep-toned personal devotedness, most

cheering and edifying to contemplate. Oh, that there were more of it

amongst us! Truly the heart longs for it. May the word of God so tell

upon our whole moral being that instead of yielding to the condition

of things around us we may live above it and pass through it as

witnesses to the eternal reality of the truth of God and the

imperishable virtues of the name of Jesus.

But we must pass on from the interesting history of Josiah, and

present to the reader some further illustrations of our theme. Hardly

had that beloved servant of God passed off the scene when every trace

of his blessed work was swept away, and the heavy tide of judgment,

long held back in the long-suffering mercy of God, rolled over the

land. Jerusalem was laid in ruins, its temple burnt to the ground, and

all the people who escaped were carried captive to Babylon, there to

hang their harps on the willows and weep over the faded light of other

days.

But, blessed forever be the God of all grace, He never leaves Himself

without a witness; and hence, during the long and dreary period of

Babylonish captivity, we find some most striking and beautiful proofs

of the statement that the greater the ruin the richer the grace, and

the deeper the gloom the brighter the flashes of individual faith.

There was then, as there ever is, "a remnant according to the election

of grace"--a little band of devoted men who loved the Lord and were

true to His word amid the pollutions and abominations of Babylon, and

who were prepared to face the fiery furnace and the lions' den for the

truth of God.

The opening chapters of the book of Daniel furnish some magnificent

results of individual faith and devotedness. Look, for example, at

chap. ii. 46. Where in the history of the nation of Israel have we

aught more striking than what is here recorded? Earth's greatest

monarch humbled before a captive exile and giving forth this wonderful

testimony: "The king answered unto Daniel, and said, Of a truth it is,

that your God is a God of gods, and a Lord of kings, and a revealer of

secrets, seeing thou couldest reveal this secret."

But where did Daniel get the power to reveal the king's secret? Verses

17 and 18 supply the lovely answer: "Then Daniel went to his house,

and made the thing known to Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah, his

companions: that they would desire mercies of the God of heaven

concerning this secret." Here we have a prayer-meeting in Babylon.

These dear men were of one heart and one mind. They were one in their

purpose to refuse the king's meat and wine. They were resolved, by the

grace of God, to tread the holy path of separation, though captive

exiles in Babylon; and they got together for prayer, and received an

abundant answer.

Can aught be finer than this? What an encouragement to the Lord's

beloved people in darkest days to hold fast Christ's word, and not

deny His precious name! Is it not most refreshing and edifying to find

amid the dark days of Babylonish captivity a few true-hearted men

treading in holy fellowship the path of separation and dependence?

They stood for God in the king's palace, and God was with them in the

furnace and in the lions' den, and conferred upon them the high

privilege of standing before the world as the servants of the Most

High God. They refused the king's meat; they would not worship the

king's image; they kept God's word and confessed His name utterly

regardless of consequences. They did not say, "We must go with the

times; we must do as others do; there is no need to make ourselves

singular; we must outwardly conform to the public worship, the

religion of the State, and hold our own private opinions all the same;

we are not called to withstand the faith of the nation; being in

Babylon, we must conform to Babylon's religion."

Thank God, Daniel and his beloved companions did not adopt this

contemptible, time-serving policy. No! and what is more, they did not

draw a plea, from the complete wreck of Israel's national polity, for

lowering the standard of individual faithfulness. They felt--could not

but feel, the ruin. They confessed their sin, and the sin of the

nation; they felt that, so far as they were concerned, sackcloth and

ashes became them; they would bow down their whole moral being beneath

that solemn word, "O Israel, thou hast destroyed thyself." All this

was, alas, too true; but that was no reason why they should defile

themselves with the king's meat, worship the king's image, or give up

the worship of the one true and living God. Ah, _God_ was before their

eyes, and Him they served and obeyed.

All this is full of the most precious teaching for all the Lord's

people at the present moment. There are two special evils which we

have to guard against. We must beware of ecclesiastical pretension or

boasting in mere Church position, without an exercised conscience and

the holy fear of God. This is a terrible evil, against which every

beloved child of God should most sedulously watch. We must never

forget that the professing Church is a hopeless wreck, and that any

human effort to restore it is a delusion. We are not called, and hence

not qualified, to restore it. The Holy Ghost is nevertheless forming

the body of Christ, and hastening its completion for the Lord's

return.

But, on the other hand, we are not to draw a plea from the ruin of the

Church for laxity as to truth, or sluggishness in our personal walk.

We are in great danger of this. There is no reason whatever why any

child of God, or servant of Christ, should do or sanction what is

wrong, or continue for an hour in association with aught that has not

for its authority, "Thus saith the Lord." "Let _every one_ that nameth

the name of the Lord _depart_ from iniquity." And what then? Stand

alone? Do nothing? Not so, thanks and praise to our ever-gracious God!

But "follow righteousness, faith, love, peace, _with them_ that call

on the Lord out of a pure heart"--a heart true to Christ and His

interests.

But we must pursue our subject, and ask the reader to turn to Neh.

viii. We have been looking at the remnant before the captivity and

during the captivity; and now we are called to look at them after the

captivity; brought back, by the rich mercy of God, into their own

beloved land. We shall not attempt to go into details, but just take

one weighty fact in illustration of our special thesis--a fact of

immense importance for the whole Church of God at the present moment.

We shall quote a few verses of this lovely scripture: "So they read in

_the book in the law of God distinctly, and gave the sense, and caused

them to understand the reading_.... And on the second day were

gathered together the chief of the fathers of all the people, the

priests, and the Levites, unto Ezra the scribe, even _to understand

the words of the law_. And they found written in the law which the

Lord had commanded by Moses, that the children of Israel should dwell

in booths in the feast of the seventh month.... And all the

congregation of them that were come again out of the captivity made

booths, and sat under the booths: for _since the days of Joshua the

son of Nun_ unto that day had not the children of Israel done so. And

there was very great gladness. Also day by day, from the first day

unto the last day, he read in the book of the law of God. And they

kept the feast seven days; and on the eighth day was a solemn

assembly, according unto the manner."

This is very striking. Here we find a feeble remnant gathered round

the word of God, holding a reading-meeting, and getting to understand

the truth and feel its power on the heart and conscience. And what was

the result? Nothing less than the celebration of the feast of

tabernacles, which had never been kept since the days of Joshua the

son of Nun. Throughout the days of the judges, the days of Samuel the

prophet, the days of the kings--even the brilliant days of David and

Solomon--the feast of tabernacles had never been celebrated. It was

reserved for a feeble company of returned exiles to keep, amid the

ruins of Jerusalem, this precious and beautiful festival--the type of

Israel's glorious future.

Was this presumption? Nay, it was simple obedience to the word of

God. It was written in the book--written for them; they acted upon it.

"And there was very great gladness." There was no pretension, no

setting up to be anything, no boasting, no attempt to hide their true

condition; they were a poor, feeble, despised remnant, taking their

true place, broken and contrite, confessing their failure, deeply

conscious that it was not with them as it was in the days of Solomon,

David, and Joshua. But they heard the word of God--heard and

understood--bowed to its holy authority--kept the feast. "And there

was very great gladness." This surely is another striking and

beautiful illustration of our theme, that the greater the ruin, the

richer the grace; and the deeper the gloom, the brighter the flashes

of individual faith. At all times, and in all places, the contrite and

confiding heart is met by unqualified, unbounded grace.

We shall now turn, for a moment, to the last page of Old Testament

Scripture--the prophecy of Malachi. Many years have rolled by since

the bright days of Ezra and Nehemiah, and we have here a most

sorrowful picture of Israel's condition. Alas, alas! "the down grade"

has been rapidly trodden. It is the same sad story--"O Israel, thou

hast destroyed thyself!" Let us quote a few sentences:

"Ye offer polluted bread upon Mine altar; and ye say, Wherein have we

polluted Thee? In that ye say the table of the Lord is contemptible....

Who is there even among you that would shut the doors for naught?

neither do ye kindle fire on Mine altar for naught. I have no

pleasure in you, saith the Lord of hosts, neither will I accept an

offering at your hand.... Ye say, The table of the Lord is polluted;

and the fruit thereof, even His meat, is contemptible. Ye said also,

Behold, what a weariness is it! and ye have snuffed at it, saith the

Lord of hosts; and ye brought that which was torn, and the lame, and

the sick; thus ye brought an offering: should I accept this of your

hand? saith the Lord" (chap. i. 7, 10, 12, 13; see also chap. iii.

5-9).

What a deplorable condition of things! It is simply heart-breaking to

contemplate. The public worship of God brought into utter contempt;

the ministers of religion working only for hire; venality and

corruption in connection with the holy service of God; every form of

moral pravity practiced amongst the people. In short, it was a scene

of deep moral gloom, depressing beyond expression to all who cared for

the Lord's interests.

And yet, even in the midst of this terrible scene, we have a most

touching and exquisite illustration of our thesis. As ever, there is a

remnant--a beloved company who honored and loved the Lord, and found

in Him their centre, their object, their delight. "Then they that

feared the Lord spake often one to another; and the Lord harkened, and

heard, and a book of remembrance was written before Him for them that

feared the Lord, and that thought upon His name. And they shall be

Mine, saith the Lord of hosts, in that day when I make up my jewels

[my special treasure]; and I will spare them, as a man spareth his own

son that serveth him."

How lovely is all this! What a contrast to the general condition of

things! We may range through the entire history of the nation, and

find nothing like this. Where do we read of "a book of remembrance

written before the Lord"? Nowhere; not even amidst the brilliant

victories of Joshua and David, or the splendors of Solomon. It may be

said there was no need. That is not the point. What we have to ponder

is the striking fact that the words and ways of this feeble remnant,

in the very midst of abounding wickedness, were so refreshing to the

heart of God that He had a book of remembrance written about them. We

may safely assert that the communings of these beloved ones were more

grateful to the heart of God than the singers and trumpeters in

Solomon's day. "They spake often one to another." "They feared the

Lord, and thought upon His name." There was individual devotedness,

personal attachment; they loved the Lord; and this drew them together.

Nothing can be more lovely. Would there were more of it in our midst!

Those dear people were not doing anything very great or showy in man's

view; but ah, they loved the Lord, they thought of Him, and their

common attachment to Him drew them together to speak of Him; and this

gave a charm to their reunions which gratified and refreshed the heart

of God! It stood out in bright and beauteous relief from the dark

background of hirelingism and heartless routine with which they were

surrounded. They were not bound together by certain views or opinions

which they held in common, though doubtless they had their views and

opinions; neither were they held together by ritualistic services or

ceremonial observances; no, they had something far better and higher

than any of these things; they were drawn and knit together by

deep-toned personal devotedness to the Lord, and this was agreeable to

His heart. He was weary with the whole system of ritualism, but

refreshed by the genuine devotedness of a few precious souls who got

together as often as they could to speak one to another, and to

encourage one another in the Lord.

Would that there were more of this amongst us! We long for it, and we

may just own to the reader that our one earnest desire in writing this

paper is to promote it. We greatly dread the withering, paralyzing

influence of mere formalism or religious routine--getting into a

groove, and going on day after day, week after week, year after year,

in a poor, cold, formal manner, most offensive to the loving heart of

our adorable Lord and Saviour, who desires to be surrounded by a

company of whole-hearted, devoted followers, true to His name, true to

His word, true to one another for His sake, seeking to serve Him in

every right way, while ardently looking out for His blessed appearing.

May the Spirit of God work mightily in the hearts of all His people,

healing, restoring, reviving and maintaining a faithful company to

welcome the heavenly Bridegroom! Let us cry to our gracious God day

and night for this.

I might here close this paper, were it not that I am anxious to

present the reader with two or three illustrations drawn from the

precious pages of the New Testament. In the opening of Luke's Gospel

we have a lovely picture of a remnant in the midst of a hollow,

heartless profession. We listen to the spiritual heart-utterances of

Mary, Elizabeth, Zacharias, and Simeon. We read of Anna the

prophetess, who spoke of Jesus to all who looked for redemption in

Jerusalem. I remember hearing my beloved and revered old friend J. N.

D. say in reference to Anna, "I am sure I do not know how she managed

to get at them at all, but she did." Yes, she did, because she loved

the Lord and loved His dear people, and delighted to find them out and

speak of Him. It is just our beloved remnant in Malachi over again.

Nothing can be more lovely or refreshing. It was the exquisite and

fragrant fruit of deep-toned love to the Lord in contrast with the

wearisome forms of dead religiousness.

We shall now pass on to the epistle of Jude. Here we find apostate

Christendom in all its appalling forms of wickedness, just as in

Malachi we had apostate Judaism. But our object just now is not

apostate Christendom, but the Christian remnant. Thanks and praise to

our gracious God, there is always a remnant marked off from the mass

of corrupt profession, and characterized by genuine attachment to

Christ, to His interests, and to every member of His beloved body.

It is to this remnant that the inspired apostle addresses his solemn

and weighty epistle. It is not to any special assembly, but "To them

that are _sanctified_ by God the Father, and _preserved_ in Jesus

Christ, _called_: _mercy_ unto you, and _peace_, and _love_, be

multiplied."

Blessed position! Precious portion! "Separated," "preserved,"

"called,"--this is the position. "Mercy," "peace," "love,"--this is

the portion. And all this made sure to every true-hearted child of God

on the face of the earth ere a single word is written about the

overwhelming tide of apostasy which was so soon to roll over the whole

professing Church.

We repeat, and would emphasise the expression, "to every true-hearted

child of God." As in Israel of old, so in the professing Church, the

remnant will be found to consist of those who are true to Christ, hold

fast His word in the face of everything, are devoted to His precious

interests, and who love His appearing. In a word, it must be a living

reality, and not mere church-membership or nominal fellowship here or

there, with this or that. Moreover it is not assuming to be, but

really being, of the remnant--not the name, but the spiritual power;

so the apostle says, "I will know, not the speech, ... but the power."

A weighty word for us all.

And now let us turn for a few moments to the precious words of

exhortation addressed to the Christian remnant. May the Spirit clothe

them with power to our souls!

"But, beloved, remember ye the words which were spoken before of the

apostles of our Lord Jesus Christ." They are directed to the Holy

Scriptures, and to these alone. It is not to human tradition of any

kind; not to the Fathers; not to the decrees of general councils; not

to the commandments and doctrines of men; not to any of these, or all

put together, which can only bewilder, perplex, and mislead; but to

the pure and precious word of God, that perfect revelation which in

His infinite goodness He has put into our hands, and which can make a

little child "wise unto salvation" and make a man "_perfect_,

thoroughly furnished unto _all good works_" (2 Tim. iii.).

The Lord be praised for this unspeakable favor! No human language can

set forth the importance of having a divinely settled authority for

our path. All we want is to be absolutely and completely governed by

it, to have it hidden in our hearts, acting on our consciences,

forming our character, governing our conduct _in everything_. To give

the word of God this place is one of the marked characteristics of the

Christian remnant. It is not the worthless, baseless formulary, "The

Bible, and the Bible only, is the religion of Protestants."

Protestantism is not the Church of God, it is not the Christian

remnant. The Reformation was the result of a blessed work of the

Spirit of God; but Protestantism, in all its denominational branches,

is what man has made of it. In it human organization has displaced the

living work of the Spirit, and the form of godliness has displaced the

power of individual faith. No mere _ism_, call it what you please, can

ever be regarded as the Church of God or the Christian remnant. It is

of the very utmost moral importance to see this. The professing Church

has utterly failed, its corporate unity is hopelessly gone, just as we

see in the history of Israel. But the Christian remnant is made up of

all those who truly feel and own the ruin, who are governed by the

Word and led by the Spirit, in separation from what is contrary to

that Word, to wait for their Lord.

Let us see how all this comes out in Jude's address to the remnant.

"But ye, beloved, building up yourselves on your most holy faith,

praying in the Holy Ghost, keep yourselves in the love of God, looking

for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life."

Here then we have a lovely view of the true Christian remnant and

their occupation among themselves. Nothing can be more beautiful. We

may be asked, to whom does this charming passage apply? We answer, to

those--whoever and wherever they are--addressed in the first verse of

the epistle: "To them that are sanctified by God the Father, and

preserved in Jesus Christ, and called." Nothing can be more simple or

more blessed. It is perfectly obvious that these words do not and

cannot apply to mere professors; neither can they apply to any

ecclesiastical body under the sun. In a word, they apply to the living

members of the body of Christ. All such should be found together

building up themselves on their most holy faith, praying in the Holy

Ghost, keeping themselves in the love of God and looking out for their

Lord.

This is the Christian remnant, just as in Malachi iii. we have the

Jewish remnant. Nothing can be more lovely. It is the position in

which all true Christians should be found. There is no pretension to

setting themselves up to be anything, no attempt to ignore the sad and

solemn fact of the utter ruin of the professing Church. It is a

Christian remnant in the midst of Christendom's ruins, true to the

Person of Christ, true to His word; knit together in true Christian

love--not the love of sect, party, clique, or coterie, but love in the

Spirit, love to all who love our Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity; love

expressing itself in true devotedness to Christ and His precious

interests; and loving ministry to all who belong to Him and seek to

reflect Him in all their ways. It is not resting in mere position,

regardless of condition--a terrible snare of the devil--but a healthy

union of the two in a life characterized by sound principle and

gracious practice; the kingdom of God established in the heart and

developing itself in the whole practical career.

Such then is the position, the condition, the practice of the true

Christian remnant; and we may rest assured that, where these things

are realized and carried out, there will be as rich enjoyment of

Christ, as full communion with God, and as bright a testimony to the

glorious truth of New Testament Christianity as ever was known in the

brightest days of the Church's history. In a word, there will be that

which will glorify the name of God, gratify the heart of Christ, and

tell with living power on the hearts and consciences of men. May God,

in His infinite goodness, give us to see these bright realities in

this dark and evil day--a fresh illustration of the soul-stirring fact

that the greater the ruin, the richer the grace; the deeper the gloom,

the brighter the flashes of individual faith.

Before closing this paper, we shall ask the reader to look for a

moment at the address to the fourth of the seven churches, as given in

the second chapter of Revelation. The church of Thyatira gives us the

history of the Church during those long, dreary centuries of the

Middle Ages, when gross darkness covered the earth, when popery--that

darkest moral blot--prevailed in the well-known character of Jezebel.

In the address to this assembly we find a marked change, indicated by

three plain facts--namely: first, a remnant is for the first time

addressed: secondly, the Lord's coming is for the first time

introduced; and, thirdly, the hearing ear is no longer looked for in

the assembly at large, but in the _overcomer_. Now these facts prove

beyond all question that in Thyatira all hope of corporate restoration

is abandoned. "I gave her space to repent, ... and she repented not."

The case is hopeless as regards the professing body. But here the

remnant is singled out and cheered--not with the hope of a converted

world or a restored Church, but with the bright and blessed hope of

the Lord's coming as the bright and morning star. "But unto you I say,

the remnant[5] in Thyatira, as many as have not this doctrine

[διδαχήν, the same root as διδάσκειν, what Jezebel was doing],

and which have not known the depths of Satan, as they speak; I will put

upon you none other burden. But that which ye have hold fast _till I

come_."

[5] The word rendered "remnant" in the above passage is λοιποῖς,

and is from the same root as the word "remnant" in Romans xi. 5,

which is λίμμα. Both are from λείπω, to leave.

Here then we have a deeply interesting view of the Christian remnant.

It is not the Church restored, but a distinct company clear of

Jezebel's teaching and Satan's depths, and going on to the end. It is

of the utmost importance that the reader should be clear in reference

to the fact that the last four churches run on synchronously to the

end. It simplifies the whole subject immensely, and gives us a very

definite, practical view of the Christian remnant. There is no mention

of a remnant until we get to Thyatira. Then all hope of corporate

restoration is given up. This simple fact overturns the church of Rome

from its very foundations. It is presented to us as an apostate and

idolatrous system, threatened with the judgment of God: and a remnant

are addressed who have nothing to do with her. So much for the

boasted, universal, infallible church of Rome.

But what of Sardis? Is this the Church restored? Nothing of the kind.

"Thou hast _a name_ that thou livest, and _art dead_." This is not a

restored or reformed Church, but _threatened_ with Christ's coming _as

a thief_, instead of being cheered with "the bright and morning star."

In a word, it is Protestantism with "a name," but the works "not

perfect before God." And what then? The Christian remnant. "_A few

names_ even in Sardis which have not defiled their garments; and

_they_ [He does not say _thou_] shall walk with Me in white: for they

are worthy." We have here a vivid and most striking contrast between

dead, cold, nominal profession and a few true-hearted, earnest lovers

of Christ--between form and power, death and life.

In the last two assemblies we have the contrast continued, enlarged,

and enforced. Philadelphia gives us a most precious picture of a

company of true Christians, humble, lowly, feeble, but true to Christ;

holding fast His word, and not denying His name--Christ and His word

treasured in the heart and confessed in the life--a living reality,

not a lifeless form. The moral beauty of this is excellent. The very

contemplation of it is refreshing and edifying indeed. In short, it is

Christ reproduced by the Holy Ghost in a beloved remnant. There is no

pretension to be anything, no assumption of great things. Christ is

all: His word, His name, how precious! We seem to have gathered up and

concentrated here the lovely moral traits of the various remnants that

have come under our notice, brought out in full blow and yielding a

fragrant perfume.

Now all this is most grateful to the heart of Christ. It is not a

question of great service rendered, mighty works performed, anything

striking or splendid in the eyes of men. No; it is something far more

precious to the Lord, namely, the deep, calm, thorough appreciation of

Himself and His precious word. This is far more to Him than the most

showy services and costly sacrifices. What He looks for is a place in

the heart. Without this all is worthless. But the very feeblest

breathing of the heart's affections after Himself is most precious.

Let us harken to our adorable Lord as He pours out His loving heart to

this dear Philadelphian company--this true Christian remnant. "These

things saith He that is holy, He that is true, He that hath the key of

David, He that openeth, and no man shutteth; and shutteth, and no man

openeth; I know thy works: behold, I have set before thee an open

door, and no man can shut it: for thou hast a little strength, and

hast kept _My word_, and hast not denied _My name_. Behold, I will

make them of the synagogue of Satan"--those who take their stand on

the boasted ground of traditionary religion--"which _say_ they are

Jews, and are not, but do lie; behold, I will make them to come and

worship before thy feet, and to know that _I have loved

thee_"--precious, blessed fact, the basis and guarantee of all, for

time and eternity!--"Because thou hast kept the word of My _patience_

[not My _power_], I will also keep thee from the hour of temptation,

which shall come upon all the world, to try them that dwell upon the

earth" (τοὺς κατοικοῖντας, those finding their home on the

earth, in contrast to those whose citizenship is in heaven).

The Lord Christ most graciously pledges Himself to keep His beloved

assembly from the terrible hour of trial that is coming upon this

whole scene. He will have His heavenly people with Himself in their

heavenly home ere a single seal is opened, a trumpet sounded, or a

vial poured out. All praise to His name for this bright, blessed,

tranquilizing, joyful hope! May we live in the power of it while we

wait for the full fruition!

But we must quote the remainder of this most exquisite address, so

full of comfort and consolation. "Behold, I come quickly: hold that

fast which thou hast, that no man take thy crown. Him that overcometh

will I make a pillar in the temple of _My God_, and he shall go no

more out: and I will write upon him the name of _My God_, and the name

of the city of _My God_, new Jerusalem, which cometh down out of

heaven from _My God_: and _My new name_."

Nothing can exceed the grace that shines in all this. Jehovah spoke

gracious words to His beloved remnant in the days of Malachi. "_They

shall be Mine_, ... in that day when I make up _My jewels_; and I

will spare them, as a man spareth his own son that serveth him. Then

shall ye return, and discern between the righteous and the wicked,

between him that serveth God and him that serveth Him not. For,

behold, the day cometh that shall burn as an oven; and all _the

proud_, yea, and all that _do wickedly_, shall be stubble: and the day

that cometh shall burn them up, saith the Lord of hosts, that it shall

leave them neither root nor branch. But unto you that"--what? That

have done great things, made great sacrifices, made a great

profession, had a great name? No; but--"_fear My name_ shall the Sun

of righteousness arise with healing in His wings; and ye shall go

forth, and grow up as calves of the stall. And ye shall tread down the

wicked; for they shall be ashes under the soles of your feet in the

day that I shall do this, saith the Lord of hosts" (Mal. iii. 17-iv.

3).

There are points of similarity and points of contrast in the Jewish

and Christian remnants which we cannot go into just now, inasmuch as

our object in referring to both is to illustrate our special theme,

namely, that in darkest days we find a devoted remnant dear to the

heart of God, the heart of Christ, and who are addressed in the most

tender and endearing terms, comforted by the most precious assurances,

and cheered by the brightest hopes. This we believe to be the special

subject laid upon the heart to present to the whole Church of God, for

the purpose of encouraging every member of the beloved body of Christ

on the face of the earth to stand apart from all that is contrary to

His mind as revealed in His word, and to be found in the position,

attitude and spirit of the true Christian remnant, waiting for the

coming of our beloved Lord.

* * * * *

I shall merely refer to one point which marks the distinction between

the two remnants in the clearest way. It is this: the Jewish remnant

is cheered by the hope of the Sun of righteousness; whereas to the

Christian remnant is granted the far higher, brighter and sweeter

privilege of looking out for the bright and morning Star. A little

child can understand the difference between these two things. The

morning star appears in the heavens long before the sun rises; and in

like manner the Church will meet her Lord as "the bright and morning

Star" before the beams of the Sun of righteousness fall in healing

power on the God-fearing remnant of Israel.

* * * * *

And now a word, in conclusion, as to Laodicea. Nothing can be more

vivid or striking than the contrast between it and Philadelphia in

every respect. We have here the last phase of the professing Christian

body. It is just about to be spewed out as something insufferably

nauseous to Christ. It is not a question of gross immorality. It may

to man's eye present a very respectable appearance; but to the heart

of Christ its condition is most repulsive. It is characterized by

lukewarmness and indifference. "I know thy works, that thou art

neither cold nor hot: I would thou wert cold or hot. So then because

thou art lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spew thee out of

My mouth."

How awfully solemn to find the professing Church in such a condition!

And to think how soon we pass from the attractions of Philadelphia--so

grateful to the heart of Christ, so refreshing to His spirit--to the

withering atmosphere of Laodicea, where there is not a single

redeeming feature! We have heartless indifference as to Christ and His

interests, combined with the most deplorable self-gratulation. "Thou

sayest, I am rich, and increased with goods, and _have need of

nothing_; and knowest not that thou art wretched, and miserable, and

poor, and blind, and naked: I counsel thee to buy of Me gold tried in

the fire, that thou mayest be rich; and white raiment, that thou

mayest be clothed, and that the shame of thy nakedness do not appear;

and anoint thine eyes with eyesalve, that thou mayest see."

How solemn is all this! People boasting of their riches, and of their

having need of nothing, and Christ outside. They have lost the sense

of divine righteousness, symbolized by "gold," and practical human

righteousness, as symbolized by "white raiment," and yet full of

themselves and their doings--the very reverse of the dear

Philadelphian company. There, He reproves nothing; here, He commends

nothing. There, Christ is all; here, He is actually outside, and the

Church is all. In a word, it is perfectly appalling to contemplate. We

are just at the close. We have got to the last solemn phase of the

Church as God's witness on the earth.

Yet even here, in the face of this most deplorable condition of

things, the infinite grace and changeless love of the heart of Christ

shine out in all their undimmed lustre. He is outside; this tells what

the Church is. But He is knocking, calling, waiting: this tells what

He is, eternal and universal homage to His name! "As many as I love, I

rebuke and chasten: be zealous therefore, and repent." The gold, the

white raiment and the eyesalve are offered. Love has various offices

to discharge, various characters in which to clothe itself; but it is

the same love still--"the same yesterday, and to-day, and forever,"

even though it has to "rebuke and chasten." Here His attitude and His

action speak volumes, both as to the Church and as to Himself.

"Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: _if any man_ hear My voice,

and open the door, I will come in to _him_, and will sup with him, and

_he with Me_."[6]

[6] Here it is not to the outside sinner, but to the professing Church

the Lord makes this most solemn and weighty appeal. It is not Christ

knocking at the door of the sinner's heart, (true as that is also),

but at the door of those in the professing Church. How telling! how

suggestive! Oh, may professing Christians ponder it!

In the church of Sardis the remnant is spoken of as "a few names"; in

Laodicea there is an "if" as to one; but even if there be a single

hearing ear, if there be one to open the door, that one is assured of

the high privilege, the immense favor, of supping with Christ--of

having that precious one as Guest and Host. "I with him, and he with

Me." When the corporate witness has reached the very lowest point,

individual faithfulness is rewarded with intimate fellowship with the

heart of Christ. Such is the infinite and everlasting love of our

beloved Saviour and Lord. Oh, who would not trust Him and praise Him

and love Him and serve Him?

And now, beloved Christian reader, I would earnestly and

affectionately entreat you to join in petition to our ever-gracious

God to stir up the hearts of His beloved people all over the world to

seek a more pronounced, whole-hearted, devoted discipleship; to turn

away from everything contrary to His word; to be true to His word and

to His name in this dark and evil day; and thus realize the truth,

which has passed before us in this paper, that _the greater the ruin,

the richer the grace; the deeper the gloom, the brighter the

outshining of individual faith_.

* * * * *

P. S.--I feel I must not let this paper go forth without adding a word

on the immense importance of keeping up a full, clear, earnest gospel

testimony. "Do the work of an evangelist" is a charge given by the

beloved apostle from his prison at Rome to his dear son Timothy, in

view of the total ruin of the professing Church; and truly the

circumstances under which these words were penned impart a touching

interest to them. Come what may, Timothy was to continue to announce

the glad tidings of God's salvation. He might be tempted to give up in

despair, and say, "All is going to pieces, people will not listen to

the gospel"--"will not endure sound doctrine."

Faith says, "No; we must never give up. God's gospel must be preached

to every creature under heaven. And even though men reject it, God is

glorified and His heart is refreshed by the precious message of His

love being told out in the ears of perishing sinners." We would

encourage the heart of every beloved evangelist on the face of the

earth by reminding him that however the Church has failed as God's

witness to the world, yet the precious gospel tells out what He is to

every poor, broken-hearted, bankrupt sinner who will only trust Him.

The thought of this has cheered us during forty-eight years of

evangelistic work, when the condition of the Church was heart-breaking

to contemplate.

And in speaking of the work of an evangelist, we must not confine it

to public halls and rooms, which, of course, demand a distinct gift

from the Head of the Church. We believe it is the sweet privilege of

every child of God to be in a condition of soul to tell the glad

tidings to individual souls in private life; and we must confess we

long to see more of this. It matters not what our position in life or

sphere of action may be, we should earnestly and prayerfully seek the

salvation of those with whom we come in contact. If we fail in this,

we are not in communion with the heart of God and the mind of Christ.

In the Gospels and Acts we see a great deal of this lovely individual

work. "Philip findeth Nathanael." "Andrew first findeth his own

brother Simon."

We want more of this earnest, beautiful, personal work in private. It

is refreshing to the heart of God. We are apt to get into a groove and

rest satisfied with asking people to come to public halls and

rooms--all right and good in its place, and most important. We would

not pen a line to detract from the value of this service; but at the

same time we cannot help feeling our sad deficiency in loving,

personal dealing with souls. But this requires nearness to God in our

inward life; which may well cause serious searching of our hearts

before God, for it is the root of our deficiency.

May the gracious Lord stir up the hearts of all His beloved people to

a more lively interest in the blessed work of evangelization, at home

and abroad, in public and in private!

LIFE AND TIMES OF

DAVID

By C. H. M.

INTRODUCTION

The steps which led to the setting up of a king in Israel are easily

traced, and easily accounted for, by all who have studied with any

attention the humbling history of the human heart, either as presented

in themselves or in others.

In the opening chapters of 1 Samuel we are furnished with a most

instructive and solemn picture of Israel's condition. The house of

Elkanah is taken up by the sacred penman as a striking illustration of

Israel after the flesh, and Israel after the Spirit. "He had two

wives; the name of the one was Hannah, and the name of the other

Peninnah; and Peninnah had children, but Hannah had no children."

Thus we have in the domestic circle of this Ephrathite the early

scenes of Sarah and Hagar enacted over again. Hannah was the barren

woman,--and she was made to feel it deeply, for "her adversary also

provoked her sore, for to make her fret, because the Lord had shut up

her womb."

The barren woman is in Scripture the type of nature's ruined and

helpless condition. There is no ability to do anything for God--no

power to bring forth any fruit to Him; all is death and barrenness.

Such is the real condition of every child of Adam. He can neither do

anything for God nor for himself, as regards his eternal destiny. He

is emphatically "without strength"; he is "a dry tree," "a heath in

the desert." Such is the lesson taught us by the barren woman.

However, the Lord caused his grace to abound over all Hannah's

weakness and need, and put a song of praise into her mouth. He enabled

her to say, "My horn is exalted in the Lord; my mouth is enlarged over

mine enemies; because I rejoice in Thy salvation." It is the Lord's

special province to make the barren woman rejoice. He alone can say,

"Sing, O barren, thou that didst not bear; break forth into singing,

and cry aloud, thou that didst not travail with child; for more are

the children of the desolate than the children of the married wife,

saith the Lord" (Isa. liv. 1).

Hannah realized this, and widowed Israel will ere long realize it

also, "for her Maker is her husband; the Lord of Hosts is His name;

and her Redeemer the Holy One of Israel." The beautiful song of Hannah

is the soul's thankful acknowledgment of God's actings in reference to

Israel. "The Lord killeth, and maketh alive: He bringeth down to the

grave, and bringeth up. The Lord maketh poor, and maketh rich: He

bringeth low, and lifteth up. He raiseth up the poor out of the dust,

and lifteth up the beggar from the dunghill, to set them among

princes, and to make them inherit the throne of glory." All this will

be most fully exemplified in Israel in the latter day; and it is now

exemplified in the person of every one who through grace is raised

from his ruined condition in nature to blessedness and peace in

Christ.

The birth of Samuel filled up a great blank, not only in the heart of

Hannah, but doubtless in the heart of every faithful Israelite who

sighed for the true interests of the Lord's house and the purity of

the Lord's offering, both of which were alike disregarded and trampled

upon by the unholy sons of Eli. In Hannah's desire for "_a

man-child_," we perceive not merely the development of the heart of a

_mother_, but that of an _Israelite_. She had, no doubt, beheld and

mourned over the ruin of everything connected with the temple of the

Lord. The dimmed eye of Eli--the vile actings of Hophni and

Phinehas--the fading lamp--the desecrated temple--the despised

sacrifice--all conspired to tell Hannah that there was a real want,

which want could alone be supplied by the precious gift of a man-child

from the Lord. Hence she says to her husband, "I will not go up until

the child be weaned, and then I will bring him, _that he may appear

before the Lord, and there abide forever_." "Abide forever!" Nothing

short of this could satisfy the longing soul of Hannah. It was not the

mere matter of wiping away her own reproach that rendered Samuel so

precious in her eyes. No! she longed to see "a faithful priest"

standing before the Lord; and by faith her eye rested on one who was

to abide there forever. Precious, elevating faith--that holy principle

which lifts the soul above the depressing influence of things seen and

temporal, into the light of things unseen and eternal!

In chapter iii. we have the prediction of the terrible downfall of

Eli's house. "And it came to pass at that time, when Eli was laid down

in his place, _and his eyes began to wax dim, that he could not see_;

and ere the lamp of God went out in the temple of the Lord, where the

ark of God was, and Samuel was laid down to sleep; _that the Lord

called Samuel_." This was very expressive--solemnly expressive. Eli's

eyes "dim," and the Lord's call to Samuel: in other words, Eli's house

is passing away, and the faithful priest is about to enter upon the

scene. Samuel runs to Eli, but, alas, all the latter could say was,

"_Lie down again_." _He_ had no message for the child. Hoary and dim,

he could spend his time in sleep and darkness, while the Lord's voice

was sounding so very near him. Solemn, most solemn warning! Eli was a

priest of the Lord, but he failed to walk watchfully, failed to order

his house according to the testimonies of God, failed to restrain his

sons; hence we see the sad end to which he came. "And the Lord said to

Samuel, Behold, I will do a thing in Israel at which both the ears of

every one that heareth it shall tingle. In that day I will perform

against Eli all things which I have spoken concerning his house: when

I begin, I will also make an end. For I have told him that I will

judge his house forever for the iniquity which he knoweth; because his

sons made themselves vile, and he restrained them not" (1 Sam. iii.

11-13).

"Whatsoever a man soweth," says the apostle, "that shall he also

reap." How true is this in the history of every child of Adam!--how

peculiarly true in the history of every child of God! According to our

sowing shall be our reaping. So Eli was made to feel; and so shall the

writer and the reader of this. There is much more of solemn, practical

reality in this divine statement than many are apt to imagine. If we

indulge in a wrong current of thought, if we adopt a wrong habit of

conversation, if we pursue a wrong line of acting, we must inevitably

reap the fruits of it sooner or later.[7] May this reflection lead us

to more holy watchfulness in our ways; may we be more careful to "sow

to the Spirit," that so, of the Spirit, we may "reap life

everlasting"!

[7] The statement in the text, I need hardly say, does not by any

means interfere with the eternal stability of divine grace and the

perfect acceptance of the believer in all the acceptableness of Christ

before God. This is a great foundation truth. Christ is the believer's

life, and Christ is his righteousness--the ground of his peace with

God. He may lose the enjoyment of it, but the thing itself God has

established upon an indestructible basis, and before ever it can be

touched the fact of Christ's resurrection must be called in question,

for clearly He could not be where He is if the believer's peace were

not perfectly settled. In order to have perfect peace, I must know my

perfect justification: and in order to know my perfect justification,

I must know, by faith in God's word, that Christ has made a perfect

atonement. This is the divine order--perfect atonement as the ground

of my perfect justification; and perfect justification as the ground

of my perfect peace. God has joined those three together, and let not

man's unbelieving heart put them asunder.

Hence, therefore, the statement in the text will not, I trust, be

misunderstood or misapplied. The principle contained therein may be

thus illustrated: If my child does wrong, he may injure himself and

grieve and displease me; but he is my child all the while. The

apostolic statement is as broad as possible--"Whatsoever a man soweth,

that shall he also reap." He does not say whether it is a converted or

an unconverted man, and therefore the passage should have its full

application. It could not possibly touch the question of pure and

absolute grace.

In chapter iv. a humiliating picture of Israel's condition in

connection with the declining house of Eli is presented. "Now Israel

went out against the Philistines to battle, and pitched beside

Eben-ezer: and the Philistines pitched in Aphek. And the Philistines

put themselves in array against Israel: and when they joined battle,

Israel was smitten before the Philistines: and they slew of the army

in the field about four thousand men." Here Israel was being made to

realize the curse of a broken law. See Deut. xxviii. 25. They could

not stand before their enemies, being weak and powerless by reason of

their disobedience.

And observe the nature and ground of their confidence, in this their

time of need and pressure: "And when the people were come into the

camp, the elders of Israel said, Wherefore hath the Lord smitten us

to-day before the Philistines? Let us fetch the ark of the covenant of

the Lord out of Shiloh unto us, that, when it cometh among us, it may

save us out of the hand of our enemies." Alas, what a miserable ground

of confidence! Not a word about _the Lord Himself_. They thought not

of _Him_ as the source of their strength; they made not _Him_ their

shield and buckler. No! they trusted in the ark; they vainly imagined

that it could save them. How vain! How could _it_ avail them aught

when unaccompanied by the presence of the Lord of hosts, the God of

the armies of Israel? Impossible! But He was no longer there; He had

been grieved away by their unconfessed and unjudged sin; nor could any

symbol or ordinance ever supply His place.

However, Israel vainly imagined that the ark would do all for them;

and great was their joy, though not well founded, when it made its

appearance among them, accompanied, not by Jehovah, but by the wicked

priests Hophni and Phinehas. "And when the ark of the covenant of the

Lord came into the camp, all Israel shouted with a great shout, so

that the earth rang again." All this was very imposing; but, ah, it

was hollow; their triumph was as baseless as it was unbecoming; they

ought to have known themselves much better than to make such an empty

display. Their shout of triumph harmonized badly with their low moral

condition in the sight of God; and yet it will ever be found that

those who know least of themselves set up the highest pretensions, and

assume the highest position. The Pharisee in the Gospel looked down

with an air of proud indifference on the self-abased publican; he

imagined himself very high up and the publican very low down in the

scale; yet how different were God's thoughts about the two! Thus it

is the broken and contrite heart will ever be the dwelling-place of

God, who, blessed be His name, knows how to lift up and comfort every

such heart as none else can do. Such is His peculiar work--the work in

which He delights.

But the men of this world will always attach importance to high

pretensions. They like them, and, generally speaking, give a high

place in their thoughts to those who assume to be somewhat; while, on

the other hand, they will seek to put the really self-abased man still

lower. Thus, in the instructive scene before us in this chapter, the

Philistines attached no small importance to the shout of the men of

Israel. It was like themselves, and therefore they could apprehend and

appreciate it. "And when the Philistines heard the noise of the shout,

they said, What meaneth the noise of this great shout in the camp of

the Hebrews? And they understood that the ark of the Lord was come

into the camp. And the Philistines were afraid; for they said, God is

come into the camp," etc. They naturally supposed that the shout of

triumph was based on a reality: they saw not what was beneath the

surface; they understood not the meaning of a defiled priesthood, a

despised sacrifice, a desecrated temple. They beheld the outward

symbol, and imagined that power accompanied it; hence their fear. How

little did they know that their fear and Israel's triumph were alike

groundless. "Be strong," said they, "and quit yourselves like men, O

ye Philistines, that ye be not servants to the Hebrews, as they have

been to you: quit yourselves like men, and fight." Here was the

resource of the Philistines--"quit yourselves _like men_." Israel

could not do this. If prevented by sin from bringing the resources of

God to bear upon their circumstances, they were weaker than other men;

Israel's only hope was in God; and if God were not there, if it were a

mere conflict between man and man, an Israelite was no match for a

Philistine. The truth of this was most fully established on the

occasion to which we are referring. "The Philistines fought, and

Israel was smitten." How else could it be? Israel could but be smitten

and fly when their shield and buckler, even God Himself, was not in

their midst. They were smitten; the glory departed from them; the ark

was taken; they were shorn of their strength; their shout of triumph

was exchanged for the piercing cry of sorrow; their portion was defeat

and shame; and the aged Eli, whom we may regard as the representative

of the existing system of things, fell with that system, and was

buried in its ruins.

Chapters v. and vi. embrace the period during which "Ichabod" was

written upon the nation of Israel. During this time God ceased to act

publicly for Israel, and the ark of His presence was carried about

from city to city of the uncircumcised Philistines. This period is

full of instruction. The ark of God among strangers, and Israel for

the time being set aside, are circumstances which cannot fail to

interest the mind and fix the attention of the intelligent and

thoughtful student of Scripture.

"And the Philistines took the ark of God, and brought it from

Eben-ezer to Ashdod. When the Philistines took the ark of God, they

brought it into the house of Dagon, and set it by Dagon." Here we are

presented with the sad and humiliating result of Israel's

unfaithfulness. With what a careless hand and faithless heart had they

kept the ark of God when it could ever be brought to find a

lodging-place in the temple of Dagon! How deeply Israel had failed!

They had let go everything; they had given up that which was most

sacred, to be profaned and blasphemed by the uncircumcised.

And now the ark of Jehovah, which belonged to the holiest of all, is

placed by the Philistines in the house of their god. The shadow of

Dagon was to be substituted for the wings of the cherubim and the

beams of the divine glory. Such were the thoughts of the lords of the

Philistines; but not so God's thoughts. Israel, on the one hand, had

failed in defending the ark; they had failed to recognize the great

truth that it should ever have been connected with the presence of God

among them. On the other hand, the lords of the Philistines might

presume to insult the sacred symbol of the divine presence by

impiously associating it with Dagon their god. In a word, the

Israelites might prove faithless, and the Philistines profane, but the

God of Israel must ever be true to Himself, ever true to His own

holiness, and Dagon must fall prostrate before the ark of His

presence. "And when they of Ashdod arose early on the morrow, behold,

Dagon was fallen upon his face to the earth before the ark of the

Lord. And they took Dagon, and set him in his place again. And when

they arose early on the morrow morning, behold, Dagon was fallen upon

his face to the ground before the ark of the Lord; and the head of

Dagon and both the palms of his hands were cut off upon the threshold:

only the stump of Dagon was left to him" (chap. v. 3, 4).

We can hardly conceive a more humiliating condition of things at this

crisis in Israel's history. They beheld the ark snatched from their

midst; they had proved themselves unfit and unable to occupy the place

of God's witnesses in the view of the nations around them; and as to

the grounds of triumph by the enemies of the truth, it was enough to

say, "The ark is in the house of Dagon." This was truly terrible, when

looked at from one point of view; but oh, how ineffably glorious when

looked at from another! Israel had failed, and had let go everything

that was sacred and precious; they had allowed the enemy to lay their

honor in the dust, and trample on their glory; yet God was above all,

beyond all; He remained sovereign over all. Here was the deep source

of consolation to every faithful heart. If Israel would not act in

defence of God's truth, He must act Himself; and so He did. The lords

of the Philistines had vanquished Israel; but the gods of the

Philistines must fall prostrate before that ark which of old had

driven back the waters of Jordan. Here was divine triumph. In the

darkness and solitude of the house of Dagon--where there was no eye to

see, no ear to hear--the God of Israel was acting in defence of those

great principles of truth which His Israel had so failed to maintain.

Dagon fell, and in his fall proclaimed the honor of the God of Israel.

The darkness of the moment only afforded an opportunity for the divine

glory to shine out with brilliancy. The scene was so thoroughly

emptied of the creature that the Creator could show Himself in His own

proper character. "Man's extremity was God's opportunity." His failure

made room for the divine faithfulness. The Philistines had proved

stronger than Israel; but Jehovah was stronger than Dagon.

Now all this is replete with instruction and encouragement at a time

like the present, when the people of God are so sadly declining from

that deep tone of devotedness and separation which ought to

characterize them. We should bless the Lord for the full assurance of

His faithfulness--"He cannot deny Himself"; "The foundation of God

standeth sure, having this seal, the Lord knoweth them that are His,

and let every one that nameth the name of Christ depart from

iniquity." Hence, in darkest times He will maintain His truth and

raise up a witness for Himself, even though it should be in the house

of Dagon. Christians may depart from God's principles, but the

principles remain the same: their purity, their power, their heavenly

virtue, are in no wise affected by the fickleness and inconsistency of

faithless professors, and in the end truth will triumph.

However, the effort of the Philistines to keep the ark of God among

them proved a complete failure. They could not make Dagon and Jehovah

dwell together--how blasphemous the attempt! "What concord hath Christ

with Belial?" None! The standard of God can never be lowered so as to

accommodate itself to the principles which govern the men of this

world; and the attempt to hold Christ with one hand and the world with

the other must issue in shame and confusion of face. Yet how many are

making that effort! How many are there who seem to make it the great

question, how much of the world they can retain without sacrificing

the name and privileges of Christians! This is a deadly evil, a

fearful snare of Satan, and it may with strict propriety be

denominated the most refined selfishness. It is bad enough for men to

walk in the lawlessness and corruption of their own hearts; but to

connect evil with the holy name of Christ is the climax of guilt.

"Thus saith the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel, ... Behold, ye trust

in lying words, that cannot profit. Will ye steal, murder, and commit

adultery, and swear falsely, and burn incense unto Baal, and walk

after other gods whom ye know not, and come and stand before Me in

this house, which is called by My name, and say, We are delivered to

do all these abominations?" (Jer. 7:3, 8-10). Again, we read, as one

of the special characteristics of the last days, that men shall have

"a form of godliness, but deny the power thereof." The _form_ suits

the worldly heart, because it serves to keep the conscience at ease,

while the heart enjoys the world in all its attractiveness. What a

delusion! How needful the apostolic admonition, "_From such turn

away_"! Satan's masterpiece is the amalgamation of things apparently

Christian with things decidedly unholy. He deceives more effectually

by this scheme than any other, and we need more spiritual perception

to detect it in consequence. The Lord grant us this, for He knows how

much we need it.

Chapter vii. Passing over much that is valuable in chapters v. and

vi., we must dwell a little upon Israel's happy restoration, in

connection with the ministry of "the faithful priest."

Israel had been allowed to mourn for many a day the absence of the

ark; their spirits drooped under the withering influence of idolatry;

and at length their affections began to go out after the Lord. But in

this revival we learn how deeply they had been sunk in death. This is

always the case. When Jacob of old was called upon to go up to Bethel

from amid the defilement of Shechem, he had but little idea of how he

and his family had become entangled in the meshes of idolatry. But the

call to "_go up to Bethel_" roused his dormant energies, quickened his

conscience, and sharpened his moral perception. Hence he says to his

household, "Put away the strange gods that are among you, and be

clean, and change your garments." The very idea of Bethel, where God

had appeared to him, exerted a reviving influence on the soul of

Jacob; and he being revived himself was enabled to lead others also in

fresh power.

Thus it is with Jacob's seed in this chapter. "And Samuel spake unto

all the house of Israel, saying, If ye do return unto the Lord with

all your hearts, then put away the strange gods and Ashtaroth from

among you, and _prepare your hearts unto the Lord_, and serve Him

_only_; and He will deliver you out of the hand of the Philistines."

We observe here what a downward course Israel had been pursuing in

connection with the house of Eli. The first step in evil is to place

confidence in a form apart from God; apart too from those principles

which make the form valuable. The next step is to set up an idol.

Hence we find Israel saying of the ark, "That _it_ may save us." But

now the word of the prophet is, "Put away the strange gods and

Ashtaroth from among you."

Reader, is there not a solemn admonition in all this for the

professing Church? Truly there is. The present is preeminently a day

of form without power. The spirit of cold and uninfluential formalism

is moving upon the face of Christendom's troubled waters, and soon all

will settle down in the deathlike calm of false profession, which will

be broken in upon only by "the shout of the archangel and the trump of

God."

However, the attitude assumed by Israel in the 7th chapter forms a

perfect contrast to the scene in the 4th chapter: "And Samuel said,

Gather all Israel to Mizpeh, and I will pray for you unto the Lord.

And they gathered together to Mizpeh, and drew water, and poured it

out before the Lord" (an expression of their weak, helpless

condition), "and fasted on that day, and said there, We have sinned

against the Lord." This was real work, and we can say, _God is here

now_. There is no confidence in a mere symbol or lifeless form; there

is no empty pretension or vain assumption, no shout or baseless

vaunting; all is deep and solemn reality. The earnest cry, the water

poured out, the fast, the confession--all tell out the mighty change

which had taken place in Israel's moral condition. They now betake

themselves to the faithful priest, and through him to the Lord

Himself. They speak not now of fetching the ark. No; their word is,

"Cease not to cry unto the Lord our God for us, that HE will save us

out of the hand of the Philistines. And Samuel took a sucking-lamb,

and offered it for a burnt-offering wholly unto the Lord; and Samuel

cried unto the Lord for Israel; and the Lord heard him." Here was the

source of Israel's power. The sucking-lamb--God's gracious providing

in tender remembrance of their need--gave a new aspect to their

circumstances; it was the turning-point in their history on this

occasion.

And observe, the Philistines seem to have been in total ignorance of

all that was going on between Jehovah and Israel. They doubtless

imagined that, inasmuch as they heard no shout of triumph, the

Israelites were, if possible, in a more impoverished condition than

before. They do not make the earth to ring again, as in chap. iv.; but

ah, there was a silent work going on which a Philistine's eye could

not see, nor a Philistine's heart appreciate! What could a Philistine

know about the penitential cry, the water poured out, or the

sucking-lamb offered up? Nothing. The men of this world can only take

cognizance of that which lies on the surface. The outward show, the

pomp and glare, the assumption of strength and greatness in the flesh,

are well understood by the world; but they know nothing of the reality

of a soul exercised before God. And yet this latter is what the

Christian should most earnestly seek after. An exercised soul is most

precious in the sight of God; He can dwell with such at all times. Let

us not assume to be anything, but simply take our proper place in the

sight of God, and He will surely be our spring of power and energy,

according to the measure of our need.

"And as Samuel was offering up the burnt-offering, the Philistines

drew near to battle against Israel: but the Lord thundered with a

great thunder on that day upon the Philistines, and discomfited them,

and they were smitten before Israel." Such were the happy results of

simple dependence upon the God of the armies of Israel: it was

somewhat like the glorious display of Jehovah's power on the shores of

the Red Sea. "The Lord is a man of war" when His people need Him, and

their faith can count on Him as their present help in time of need.

Whenever Israel truly turned to Jehovah, He was ever ready to appear

in their behalf; but the glory must be _all_ His own. Israel's shout

of empty triumph must be hushed, in order that the voice of Jehovah

may be distinctly heard. And how blessed to be silent, and let Jehovah

speak! What power in His voice to bring peace to His people, and to

strike terror into the hearts of His enemies! "Who shall not fear

thee, O Lord, and glorify Thy name?"

Chapter viii. In this chapter we have a very marked step towards the

setting up of a king in Israel. "And it came to pass, when Samuel was

old, that he made his sons judges over Israel.... And his sons walked

not in his ways, but turned aside after lucre, and took bribes, and

perverted judgment." Sad picture! How like man in every age! Man

corrupts himself and all committed to him at the first opportunity.

Moses and Joshua foresaw Israel's turning away after their departure

(Deut. 31:29; Josh. 23:15, 16); and Paul could say to the Ephesian

elders: "I know that after my departure shall grievous wolves enter in

among you, not sparing the flock." So here; Israel no sooner recovers

from the effects of the immorality of Eli's sons than they are made to

feel the direful effects of the avarice of Samuel's sons, and thus are

they hurried along the path which ended in the rejection of Jehovah

and the setting up of Saul. "When Samuel was old, _he made_ his sons

judges." But this was a very different thing indeed from God's

appointment. The faithfulness of Samuel was no guarantee for his sons;

just as we find in the boasted theory of apostolic succession. What

kind of successors have we seen? How far have they resembled their

predecessors? Paul could say, "I have coveted no man's silver or

gold": can the so-called successors say so? Samuel could say, "Behold,

here I am: witness against me before the Lord, and before His

anointed: whose ox have I taken? or whose ass have I taken? or whom

have I defrauded? whom have I oppressed? or of whose hand have I

received any bribe to blind mine eyes therewith?" But alas, Samuel's

sons and successors could not say this! To them "filthy lucre" was the

leading spring of action.

Now we find in this chapter that Israel makes this evil of Samuel's

sons the ostensible reason for asking a king. "Behold, thou art old,

and thy sons walk not in thy ways: now make us a king to judge us

_like all the nations_." Fearful declension! Israel satisfied to come

down to the level of the nations around! and all because Samuel was

old and his sons covetous. The Lord is shut out. Had they looked up to

Him, they would have had no reason for seeking to put themselves under

the guardianship of a poor mortal like themselves. But ah, the Lord's

ability to guide and keep them was little thought of in all this

scene! They cannot see beyond Samuel and his sons: if no help can be

found from them, they must at once step down from their high elevation

of having Jehovah as their King and make to themselves a human head

like the nations around them. The attitude of faith and dependence on

God cannot be maintained by the natural man. _Outwardly_ God had been

owned as their King; but now it is not so: a king must now be their

recognized head. We shall soon see the sad result of all this.

Chapters ix.-xiii. These chapters furnish us with the character of

Saul, together with his anointing and the opening of his rule. I shall

not dwell upon it in this Introduction, being merely desirous to call

the reader's attention to the steps which led to the setting up of a

king in Israel.

Saul was emphatically the man after Israel's heart: he had all that

the flesh could desire--"a choice young man, and a goodly; and there

was not among the children of Israel a goodlier person than he: from

his shoulders and upward he was higher than any of the people." This

was all very imposing to those who could only look upon the outward

appearance; but what lay beneath this attractive exterior! Saul's

whole course is marked with selfishness and pride, under the cloak of

humility. True, the Spirit came upon him as one set apart to be an

office-bearer among the people of God;[8] but he was throughout a

self-seeker, and he only used the name of God for his own ends, and

the things of God as a pedestal on which to set forth his own glory.

The scene at Gilgal is truly characteristic, and develops much of

Saul's principle of action. Impatient to wait for God's time, he

"forces himself," and offers a burnt-offering, and has to hear from

the lips of Samuel these solemn words: "Thou hast done foolishly; thou

hast not kept the commandment of the Lord thy God which He commanded

thee: for now would the Lord have established thy kingdom upon Israel

for ever. But now thy kingdom shall not continue: the Lord hath sought

Him a man after His own heart, and the Lord hath commanded him to be

captain over His people, because thou hast not kept that which the

Lord commanded thee." This is just the sum of the matter, so far as

Saul is concerned. "Thou hast done foolishly; thou hast not kept the

commandment of the Lord; thy kingdom shall not continue." Solemn

verities! Saul, the man after man's heart, is set aside, to make room

for the man after God's heart. The children of Israel had abundant

opportunity of testing the character of the man whom they had chosen

to lead them forth, and fight their battles.[9] The reed on which they

had so earnestly desired to lean had broken, and was about to pierce

their hand. Man's king, alas, what was he? Set him in an emergency,

and how does he carry himself? Bustling self-importance marks all his

actings. No dignity, no holy confidence in God, no acting on the broad

principles of truth. Self, self, and that, too, in the most solemn

scenes, and while apparently acting for God and His people. Such was

man's king.

[8] My reader should accurately distinguish between the Holy Ghost

coming _upon_ people and the Holy Ghost dwelling and acting _in_ them.

The statement in 1 Sam. x. 6 may present a difficulty to some minds.

"The Spirit of the Lord will come _upon_ thee, and thou shalt prophesy

with them, and shalt be turned into another man." This is not the

Spirit producing the new birth, but merely fitting Saul to be an

office-bearer. Were it regeneration, it would not merely be the Spirit

coming _upon_, but acting _in_, a man. Saul the _office-hearer_ and

Saul the _man_ are quite distinct, and this distinction must be

maintained in reference to many of the characters both in the Old and

New Testament Scriptures.

[9] It is to be noted that Saul, though appointed by God's order to

Samuel, is nevertheless the _people's_ choice and acclaimed by them as

such (1 Sam. x. 24)--God thus selecting for them the man after _their_

heart.--[Ed.]

Chapter. xiv. This beautiful chapter furnishes a striking contrast

between the efficacy of Israel's expedient, and that of the _old

principle_ of simple faith in God. Saul sits beneath a pomegranate

tree, in display of empty pomp without any real power; while Jonathan,

acting in the spirit of faith, is made the happy instrument of working

salvation for Israel. Israel, in unbelief, had asked for a king to

fight their battles, and doubtless they imagined that, when blessed

with a king, no enemy could stand before them: but was it so? One word

in chap. xiii. gives the reply: "All the people followed him

_trembling_." What a change! How different from the mighty host who,

of old, had followed Joshua into the strongholds of Canaan! And yet

they now had their longed-for king before them; but, God was not

there, and hence their trembling. Let man have the fairest, the most

imposing ordinance, without the sense of God's presence, and he is

weakness itself. Let him have the presence of God in power, and

nothing can resist him. Moses had, of old, done wonders with a simple

rod in his hand; but now, Israel, with the man after their own heart

full in their view, could do nought but tremble before their enemies.

"All the people followed him trembling." How truly humiliating! "Nay;

but we will have a king over us; ... that our king may judge us, and

_go out before us and fight our battles_." Truly "it is better to

trust in the Lord, than to put confidence in princes." Jonathan proved

this, most blessedly. He goes up against the Philistines in the power

of that word, "There is no restraint with the Lord to save by many or

by few." It was "the Lord" who filled his soul, and having Him, "many

or few" made no difference. Faith does not reckon on circumstances,

but on God.

And mark the change upon Israel the moment that faith begins to act

amongst them. The trembling was transferred from Israel to the

Philistines; "and there was a trembling in the host, in the field, and

among all the people; the garrison and the spoilers, they also

trembled; and the earth quaked; so it was a very great trembling."

Israel's star was now decidedly in the ascendant, simply because

Israel was acting upon the principle of faith. Jonathan looked not to

his father Saul for deliverance, but to Jehovah; he knew that He was a

man of war, and on Him he leaned for the deliverance of Israel in the

day of trouble. Blessed dependence! None like it. Human ordinances

perish--human resources vanish away; but "they that trust in the Lord

shall be as Mount Zion, which cannot be removed, but abideth for

ever." "It was a very great trembling," for God was putting His terror

into their hearts, and filling Israel with joy and triumph. Jonathan's

faith was owned of God in the establishment of those who had

previously fled from the field of conflict into the mountains. Thus it

is ever; one can never walk in the power of faith without giving an

impetus to others; and, on the other hand, one coward heart is

sufficient to deter a great many. Moreover, unbelief always drives one

from the field of service or conflict, while faith, as surely, leads

one into it.

But what of Saul in all this? How did he co-operate with the man of

faith? He was perfectly incapable of any such acting. He sat under the

pomegranate tree, unable to inspire courage into the hearts of those

who had chosen him to be their captain; and when he did venture to

move, or rather to bustle forth, he could do nought but hinder the

precious results of faith by his rashness and folly. But we must

hasten on to the close of these introductory remarks.

Chapter xv. presents us with the final testing and setting aside of

man's king. "GO, SMITE AMALEK." This is the test which really made

manifest the moral condition of Saul's heart. Had he been right before

God, he would have executed God's judgment upon Amalek. But the issue

proved that Saul had too much in common with Amalek to carry out the

divine will in his destruction. What had Aamalek done? "Thus saith the

Lord of hosts, I remember that which Amalek did to Israel, how he laid

wait for him in the way, when he came up from Egypt." In a word,

Amalek stands before the spiritual mind as the first great obstacle to

the progress of the redeemed from Egypt to Canaan; and we know what it

is which fills a similar place in reference to those who now set out

to follow the Lord Jesus.

Now, Saul had been just showing himself as a most decided obstacle in

the way of the man of faith; indeed, his entire course was one of

hostility to the principles of God. How, then, could he destroy

Amalek? Impossible. "He spared Agag." Just so. Saul and Agag suited

each other but too well, nor had he power to execute the judgment of

God on this great enemy of His people. And mark the ignorance and

self-complacency of this unhappy man. "And Samuel came to Saul; and

Saul said unto him, Blessed be thou of the Lord: _I have performed the

commandment of the Lord_." Performed the commandment of the Lord,

while Agag, king of the Amalekites, was yet alive! Oh, to what lengths

of vain delusion will one go when not walking uprightly before God!

"What meaneth then this bleating of the sheep in my ears?" Solemn,

heart-searching inquiry! In vain is recourse had to the plausible

matter of "_sacrifice unto the Lord_." Miserable resource for

disobedient hearts! As if the Lord would accept a sacrifice from one

walking in positive rebellion against His commandment. How many since

Saul's day have sought to cover a disobedient spirit with the

plausible mantle of "sacrifice unto the Lord." Samuel's answer to Saul

is of universal application, viz.: "Hath the Lord as great delight in

burnt offerings and sacrifices as in obeying the voice of the Lord?

Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice, and to hearken than the fat

of rams. For rebellion is as the sin of witchcraft, and stubbornness

is as iniquity and idolatry." The Lord seeks not offerings, but

obedience: the subject heart and acquiescent spirit will glorify Him

more than the cattle upon a thousand hills.

How important to have this great principle pressed home upon the

conscience, when so many are cloaking all sorts of disobedience with

the word, Sacrifice, sacrifice! "_To obey is better than sacrifice._"

It is far better to have the will in subjection to God than to load

His altar with the costliest sacrifices. When the will is in

subjection, everything else will take its due place; but for one whose

will is in rebellion against God to talk of sacrificing to Him is

nothing but deadly delusion. God looks not at the amount of the

sacrifice, but at the spirit from which it springs. Moreover, it will

be found that all who, in Saul's spirit, speak of sacrificing unto the

Lord, have concealed beneath some selfish object--some Agag or

other--the best of the sheep--or something attractive to the flesh,

which is more influential than the service or worship of the blessed

God.

May all who read these pages seek to know the real blessedness of a

will entirely subject to God, for in it will be found that blessed

rest which the meek and lowly Jesus promised to all who were heavy

laden--the rest which He Himself found in being able to say, "I thank

Thee, O Father, ... _for so it seemed good in Thy sight_." God had

desired Saul to destroy Amalek, but his heart desired to spare

something which to _him_, at least, seemed good and desirable; he was

ready to carry out the will of God in reference to all that was "_vile

and refuse_" but he thought he might make some exceptions, as if the

line of distinction between that which was "refuse" and that which was

"good" was to be drawn by his judgment, and not by the unerring

judgment of Him who looked at Amalek from a true point of view, and

saw in Agag one who, with all his delicacy, would resist Israel as

strongly as ever, and this was His ground of controversy with Amalek,

which Saul was unable to understand or appreciate.

The close of this chapter shows us, but too plainly, the current in

which Saul's thoughts and desires were flowing. He had just heard the

solemn appeal of Samuel, and the denunciations of God against him,

concluded with these solemn words, "The Lord hath rent the kingdom of

Israel from thee this day, and hath given it to a neighbor of thine,

that is better than thou." These stunning words had just fallen upon

his ear; yet so full was he of self, that he could say, "_Honor me_

now, I pray thee, before the elders of my people, and before Israel."

This was Saul. "_The people_," said he, "spared what should have been

destroyed;"--it was their fault, but "_honor me_." Alas, what vanity!

A heart steeped in iniquity seeking honor from his fellow-worms.

Rejected of God as an office-bearer, he clings to the thought of human

honor. It seems that, provided he could maintain his place in the

estimation of his people, he cared but little what God thought of him.

But he was rejected of God, and the kingdom torn from him; nor did it

avail him much that Samuel turned again, and stood by, while Saul went

through the form of worshiping the Lord, in order that he might not

forfeit his place and influence amongst his people.

"Then said Samuel, Bring hither to me Agag, the king of the

Amalekites; and Agag came unto him delicately. And Agag said, Surely

the bitterness of death is past. And Samuel said, As thy sword hath

made women childless, so shall thy mother be childless, among women.

_And Samuel hewed Agag in pieces before the Lord in Gilgal._" Agag's

delicacy could not deceive one who was taught of God. How remarkable

to find him hewing Agag in pieces _at Gilgal_! Gilgal was the place

where the reproach of Egypt was rolled away from Israel;[10] and, in

tracing their history, we find it associated with much power over

evil. Here it was, then, that this Amalekite came to his end by the

hand of righteous Samuel. This is most instructive. When the soul is

blessed with the realization of its full deliverance from Egypt, by

the power of death and resurrection, it is in the best position for

obtaining victory over evil. Had Saul known anything of the spirit and

principle of Gilgal, he would not have spared Agag. He was ready

enough to go thither to "renew the kingdom," but by no means so to

crush and set aside all that savored of the flesh. But Samuel, acting

in the energy of the Spirit of God, dealt with Agag according to the

principles of truth; for it is written, "The Lord hath sworn that the

Lord will have war with Amalek from generation to generation." _The

king of Israel ought to have known this._

[10] It was at Gilgal, upon their crossing Jordan, that Israel was

circumcised after the forty years' uncircumcision in the wilderness;

and to this place Joshua oft led them back after their victories. The

meaning of this for us Christians is given in Phil. iii. 3--no

self-confidence.--[Ed.]

CHAPTER I

DAVID ANOINTED

We now come to our theme--our rich and varied theme--the life and

times of David, king of Israel.

In looking through Scripture, we observe how wonderfully the blessed

God has ever brought good out of evil. It was Israel's sin to reject

their King, Jehovah, and seek to set up a man over them; and in that

man, who first wielded the sceptre over them, they had learnt how vain

was the help of man. The Lord was now about to bring blessing to His

people out of all their evil and folly.

Saul had been set aside, in the government of God; he had been weighed

in the balance, and found wanting; his kingdom was to pass away from

under his hand, and a man after God's own heart was about to be set

upon the throne, to the glory of God, and the blessing of His people.

"And the Lord said unto Samuel, How long wilt thou mourn for Saul,

seeing I have rejected him from reigning over Israel?" These words let

us into the secret of Samuel's sorrow in reference to Saul, during the

long period of his separation from him. In the last verse of chap. xv.

we read, "And Samuel came no more to see Saul until the day of his

death; nevertheless Samuel mourned for Saul." This was natural. There

was much that was affecting--deeply affecting to the heart in the

melancholy fall of this unhappy man. He had once elicited from Israel

the shout of "God save the king." Many an eye, full of enthusiasm, had

doubtless rested upon "the choice young man and the goodly," and now

all this was gone; Saul was rejected, and Samuel felt constrained to

take a position of entire separation from him as one whom God had set

aside. This was the second office-bearer whom it had been Samuel's lot

to see stripped of his robes of office; he had been the bearer of

heavy tidings to Eli, at the opening of his career; and now, at the

close of it, he was called upon to deliver, in the ear of Saul, the

announcement of the judgment of heaven against his course. However,

Samuel was called to enter into the thoughts of God in reference to

Saul. "How long wilt _thou_ mourn for Saul, seeing _I_ have rejected

him?" Communion with God will ever lead us to acquiesce in His ways.

Sentimentalism may weep over fallen greatness, but faith grasps the

great truth that God's unerring counsel shall stand, and He will do

all His pleasure. Faith could not shed a tear over Agag, when hewed in

pieces before the Lord, neither would it continue over a rejected

Saul, because it ever flows in harmony with God, in His ways. But

there is a wide difference between nature and faith; while the former

sits down to weep, the latter arises and fills the horn with oil.

It is well to ponder this contrast. We are all too apt to be carried

away by mere sentiment, which is often truly dangerous. Indeed,

inasmuch as it is of nature, it must flow in a current different from

the thoughts of the Spirit of God. Now, the most effectual remedy

against the working of mere sentiment is a strong, deep, thorough,

abiding conviction of the reality of the purpose of God. In the view

of this, sentimentality withers and dies, while, on the other hand,

faith lives and flourishes in the atmosphere of the purpose of God.

This is impressively taught in the first verse of chap. xvi.--"How

long wilt thou mourn?... Fill thy horn with oil, and go: I will send

thee to Jesse the Bethlehemite: for I have provided Me a king among

his sons."

Yes; human sorrow must flow on until the heart finds repose in the

rich resources of the blessed God. The varied blanks which human

events leave in the heart can only be filled up by the power of faith

in the precious word, "_I have provided_." This really settles

everything. This dries the tear, alleviates the sorrow, fills the

blank. The moment the spirit rests in the provision of God's love,

there is a period put to all repinings. May we all know the power and

varied application of this truth; may we know what it is to have our

tears dried up, and our horn filled by the conviction of our Father's

wise and merciful provision. This is a rare blessing; it is difficult

to get completely above the region of human thought and feeling. Even

a Samuel is found replying to the divine command, and manifesting a

slowness to run in the way of simple obedience. The Lord said, "_Go_;"

but Samuel said, "_How can I go_?" Strange inquiry! yet how fully it

develops the moral condition of the human heart. Samuel had been

mourning for Saul, and now, when told to go and anoint one to fill his

place, his reply is, "How can I?" Now we may be quite sure that faith

never says this. There is no such word as "how" in the vocabulary of

faith. No; the divine command no sooner marks out the path, than faith

takes it up in willing obedience, not counting the difficulties.

However, the Lord, in tender mercy, meets His servant in his

difficulty. "And the Lord said, Take a heifer with thee, and say, I am

come to sacrifice to the Lord." Thus with a full horn and a sacrifice

he sets off to the city of David, where an obscure and unthought-of

youth tended a few sheep in the wilderness.

Amongst the sons of Jesse, there would seem to have been some very

fair specimens of nature--some whom Samuel, if left to the exercise of

his own judgment, would have fixed upon to succeed to the crown of

Israel. "And it came to pass when they were come, that he looked upon

Eliab, and said, Surely the Lord's anointed is before Him." But it was

not so. Natural attraction had nothing to do with the Lord's election.

He looks beneath the gilded surface of men and things, and judges

according to His own unerring principles. We learn something of

Eliab's haughty and self-sufficient spirit in chap. xvii. But the

Lord puts no confidence in the legs of a man, and thus Eliab was not

His chosen vessel. It is very remarkable to find Samuel so much and so

often astray in this chapter. His mourning for Saul, his hesitation to

go and anoint David, his mistake about Eliab, all shows how much

astray he was as to the ways of God. How solemn is the Lord's word,

"Look not on his countenance, or on the height of his stature; because

I have refused him: for the Lord seeth not as man seeth; for man

looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart."

This is the great difference; "_the outward appearance_," and "_the

heart_." Even Samuel was well-nigh snared by the former, had not the

Lord graciously interfered to teach him the value of the latter. "Look

not on his countenance." Memorable words! "Then Jesse called Abinadab,

and made him pass before Samuel. And he said, Neither hath the Lord

chosen this. Then Jesse made Shammah to pass by. And he said, Neither

hath the Lord chosen this. Again, Jesse made _seven of his sons_ to

pass before Samuel. And Samuel said unto Jesse, The Lord hath not

chosen these." Thus the perfection, as it were, of nature passed

before the prophet, but all in vain; nature could produce nought for

God or His people. And, what is still more remarkable, Jesse thought

not of David in all this! The ruddy youth was in the solitude of the

wilderness, with the sheep, and came not into mind in this review of

nature's offspring. But, ah the eye of Jehovah was resting upon this

despised youth, and beholding in him the one who was to stand in the

line through which, according to the flesh, Christ should come, to

occupy the throne of David, and rule over the house of Israel for

ever. Truly "God seeth not as man seeth," for He "hath chosen the

foolish things of the world, to confound the wise; and God hath chosen

the weak things of the world, to confound things which are mighty; and

base things of the world, and things which are despised, hath God

chosen--yea, and things which are not, to bring to nought things that

are; that no flesh should glory in His presence" (1 Cor. i. 27-29). If

Eliab, or Shammah, or Abinadab, or any one of the "seven sons" of

Jesse had had the anointing oil poured upon his head, flesh might have

gloried in the presence of God; but the moment David--the forgotten

David--appears on the scene, we recognize in him one who would give

all the glory to Him who was about to put the sceptre into his hand.

In a word, David stands before us as the marked type of the Lord

Jesus, who, when He appeared amongst men, was despised, overlooked,

and forgotten. And I may just add here, that we shall find, in ranging

through David's instructive history, how strikingly he shadowed forth

the true beloved of God.

"And Samuel said unto Jesse, Are here all thy children? And he said,

There remaineth yet the youngest, and, behold, he keepeth the sheep.

And Samuel said unto Jesse, Send and fetch him: for we will not sit

down till he come hither. And he sent, and brought him in. Now he was

ruddy, and withal of a beautiful countenance, and goodly to look to.

And the Lord said, Arise, anoint him: FOR THIS IS HE." "There

remaineth yet the youngest." Surely he could not be the elect one,

thought Jesse. Man cannot understand the ways of God. The very

instrument which God is about to make use of is overlooked or despised

by man. "Arise, anoint him: for this is he," is God's perfect reply to

the thoughts of Jesse and Samuel.

And how happy it is to note David's occupation. "Behold, he keepeth

the sheep." This was afterwards referred to by the Lord, when He said

to David, "I took thee from the sheep-cote, from following the sheep,

to be ruler over My people, over Israel." Nothing can more sweetly

illustrate God's thoughts of the kingly office than the work of a

shepherd. Indeed, when it is not executed in the spirit of a shepherd,

it fails of its end. King David fully entered into this, as may be

seen in those touching words, "_These sheep_, what have they done?"

The people were the Lord's sheep, and he, as the Lord's shepherd, kept

them on the mountains of Israel, just as he had kept his father's

sheep in the retirement of Bethlehem. He did not alter his character

when he came from the sheep-cote to the throne, and exchanged the

crook for the sceptre. No; he was the shepherd still, and he felt

himself responsible to protect the Lord's flock from the lions and

bears which ever prowled around the fold. The prophetic allusion to

the true David is touching and beautiful. "Therefore will I save My

flock, and they shall no more be a prey; and I will judge between

cattle and cattle. And I will set up one shepherd over them, and He

shall feed them, even My servant David; He shall feed them, and He

shall be their shepherd. And I the Lord will be their God, and My

servant David a prince among them; I the Lord have spoken it." (Ezek.

xxxiv. 22-24). Our Lord in John x. presents Himself as the faithful

and good Shepherd who loves and cares for His sheep; and, doubtless,

in John vi., He had more or less reference to His shepherd character.

"And this is the Father's will which hath sent Me, that of all which

He hath given Me, I should lose nothing, but should raise it up again

at the last day." This is a great principle of truth. Independent of

His own personal love for the sheep--so wonderfully attested in life

and in death--the Lord Jesus, in the above memorable passage, presents

Himself as one responsible--voluntarily so, no doubt--to the Father,

to keep every member of the loved and valued flock through all the

vicissitudes of this life, and present them in resurrection-glory, at

the last day. Such is the Shepherd to whom a Father's hand has

committed us; and, oh, how has He provided for us for time and

eternity, by placing us in such hands--the hands of an ever-living,

ever-loving, all-powerful Shepherd, whose love many waters cannot

quench; whose power no enemy can countervail; who holds in His hand

the keys of death and hell, and who has established His claim to the

guardianship of the flock, by laying down His life for it. Truly we

may say, "The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want." How can we want

while Jesus feeds us? Impossible. Our foolish hearts may often desire

to feed on noxious pasture, and our Shepherd may have to prove His

gracious care by denying us the use of such, but one thing is certain,

that those whom Jesus feeds shall not want any _good_ thing.

There is something in the shepherd character which would seem to be

much in harmony with the divine mind, inasmuch as we find the Father,

the Son, and the Spirit, all acting in that character. The 23d psalm

may be primarily viewed as the experience of Christ delighting in the

assurance of His Father's shepherd-care. Then, in John x., we find the

Son presented as the good Shepherd. Lastly, in Acts xx. and 1 Pet. v.,

we find the Holy Ghost acting in that blessed capacity, by raising up

and gifting for the work the subordinate shepherds. It is edifying to

mark this. It is like our God to present Himself in the most endearing

relationship, and that most calculated to win our confidence and draw

out our affections. Blessed be His name forever! His ways are all

perfect; there is none like Him.

I would just direct the reader's attention to the contrast between the

circumstances in which Samuel found David, and those in which he found

Saul. He will remember that Saul was in pursuit of his father's

asses, when he came in contact with Samuel. I do not interpret this

fact, I merely refer to it. I believe it is expressive, in the way of

evil, just as David's occupation, in the sheep-cote, was expressive of

his future career, as the shepherd of Israel.[11] When we see David

tending his father's sheep in the wilderness, overlooked, or thought

little of in the circle of his brethren, we are led to look for

something corresponding in his after-course; nor are we disappointed.

Just so, when we see Saul in search of his father's asses, we are led

to look for something corresponding in his character and habits

afterwards. Trifling circumstances often teach a great deal. David's

affectionate and tender solicitude for the Lord's flock and

forgetfulness of self, may all be traced in the circumstances in which

he is introduced to our notice; and, on the other hand, Saul's

ambitious, self-seeking spirit may be traced in the object of his

pursuit when he came in contact with Samuel. However, I simply leave

the suggestion with the reader to use as the Lord may lead him, only

reminding him that nothing can be insignificant which the Spirit has

recorded concerning men who appear throughout in such marked contrast,

and who each, in his way, occupied such an important place in the

history of the people of God.

[11] "Yea, man is born as a wild ass's colt" says Job xi. 12,

describing man's natural condition--wilful, unmanageable, unclean.

Compare Exod. xiii. 13, and Hosea viii. 9. Saul and Israel were only

too manifestly pictured in this unsuccessful search after his father's

asses. David was the keeper of his father's sheep. [Ed.]

One can only say, Blessed be the grace which took up one to be ruler

over His people, who manifested those traits of character which were

most blessedly adapted to his work. "Then Samuel took the horn of oil,

and anointed him in the midst of his brethren: and the Spirit of the

Lord came upon David from that day forward." Thus, then, David is

fully before us as the Lord's anointed, and we have now to trace him

in all his wanderings and vicissitudes, while rejected of man, and

waiting for the kingdom.