2:24): "Who his own self bare our sins in his own body on the tree, that
we, being dead to sins, should live unto righteousness; by whose stripes
ye were healed."
John, the Beloved, speaks as clearly on this subject (John 3:16-17):
"For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that
whosoever believeth in him, should not perish, but have everlasting
life. For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but
that the world through him might be saved." Paul was equally emphatic;
he says (1 Cor. 2:2): "For I determined not to know anything among you,
save Jesus Christ and him crucified." And again (1 Cor. 1:30): "But
of him are ye in Christ Jesus who of God is made unto us wisdom and
righteousness, and sanctification and redemption."
But we have higher authority still--we have the words of Christ Himself.
At the last supper, with His disciples about Him, He spoke of His blood
being "shed for many for the remission of sins."
It is the story of His sacrifice for others--of His blood shed that the
world might through Him find forgiveness--that has been understood by
the unlettered as well as by scholars and has brought millions to the
foot of the cross. Even those who have not been in position to compare
His code of morals with the teachings of others have been able to
comprehend a plan of salvation by which one died for all and all find
forgiveness in His sacrifice. It is this Gospel that has made it
possible for the forgiven sinner to go forth to begin a new life, no
longer under conviction of sin and remembering his past only as an
incentive to service.
The presence of Judas at the Last Supper has been the cause of much
speculation throughout the centuries. The indignation of Christians
is stirred at the thought of a traitor being present on this solemn
occasion when Christ instituted one of the great sacraments of the
Church. The Saviour not only knew what Judas was about to do but
called attention to it and designated the guilty one, but there was no
appearance of the anger which would be natural in a mortal; He knew the
plan of salvation.
But why should the betrayal have come from one of the twelve? It is not
necessary to find a satisfactory answer to all the questions that may
arise from the reading of the Bible, and the finite mind should not
be discouraged if it fails to fathom the reasons of the Infinite
Intelligence. If there are mysteries in the Bible that we cannot unravel
they are not greater than the mysteries in nature with which we must
deal whether we understand them or not.
But I venture to suggest one _effect_, produced by the fact that one of
the twelve proved a traitor, namely, the scrutiny that it has compelled
millions of Christians to turn upon themselves. "Lord, is it I?" each
of the disciples anxiously inquired. Even Judas himself, coerced by the
action of the others, asked, "Master, is it I?" So, to-day, there is
real betrayal of the Saviour by some who take His name upon them and
before the world profess to be His followers. If Judas had been an
outsider and had sold for money the knowledge he had gained as a
looker-on his name would not have become, as the name of Judas has, a
synonym for all that is base and contemptible; and the Christian world
would have been without the benefit of that glaring act of perfidy that
has sounded its warning through nineteen centuries. Judas sold the
Saviour for money, just as many a professing Christian since then has,
for money, betrayed the Master. Who will calculate the restraint that
that one question, "Lord, is it I?" has exerted upon Christ's followers
in the hour when some great temptation has made the believer hesitate
upon the brink of sin?
I will not attempt to enumerate all the ways in which Christ has and can
bless mankind, but the living spring has taught me one way. The spring
is the best illustration of the Christian life, just as a stagnant pool
is the best illustration of a selfish life. The pool receives but gives
forth nothing in return and, at last, becomes the center of disease and
death. There is nothing more repulsive than the stagnant pool except a
life built upon that plan. The spring, on the other hand, pours forth
constantly of that which refreshes and invigorates and asks for nothing.
There is nothing more inspiring than a living spring except the life
that it resembles.
And why is the spring a spring? Because _it is connected with a source
that is higher than itself_. Christ brings man into such vital, living
contact with God that the goodness of God flows out to the world through
him. The frailest human being can thus become of inestimable value to
society. It is only spiritual power, received from above, that counts
largely. If we measure man in units of physical power he is not much
above the beasts; if we measure him in units of intellectual power
we soon reach his limitations, but when we measure him in units of
spiritual power his strength may be beyond human calculations. If, as
was the case in Wales, the prayer of a little girl could start a revival
that spread over that country, resulting in the conversion of thousands,
what can a life accomplish if one's heart is full of love to God and
man?
The wisdom of Christ could not have been supplied by others; there were
none to supply it. There was no source but the inexhaustible fountain of
the Almighty from which to draw that which He gave forth "as one having
authority." "Who among His Apostles or proselytes," asks John Stuart
Mill, "was capable of inventing the sayings ascribed to Jesus or of
imagining the life and character revealed in the Gospels?"
No person, less than divine, could have carried the message or rendered
the service He did to mankind. How, for instance, could He have
learned from His own experience or from His environment the startling
proposition that He embodied in His interpretation of The Parable of the
Sower? "The care of this world and the deceitfulness of riches choke the
truth," and yet in that short sentence He gave an epitome of all
human history. Reforms come up from the oppressed, not down from the
oppressors--a fact which Christ explains in a word.
He announced the divine order: "Seek ye _first_ the kingdom of God and
his righteousness." Duty to God comes _first_--all other things that are
good for us will come in due time.
His parables stand alone in literature; they have no parallel in the
expression of great truths with beauty and simplicity through object
lessons taken from every-day life. These truths covered a wide range and
were embedded in the language of the parable because of the unbelief
of that day. They are increasingly appreciated as their practical
application to all time becomes more and more manifest.
The parable of the Prodigal Son is the most beautiful story of its kind
ever told and is based on an experience through which nearly every
person passes, but few of whom, fortunately, carry the spirit of
rebellion to the point of leaving home. At that period which marks
the transition from youth to maturity--from dependence on others to
self-reliance--rebelliousness is likely to be exhibited to a greater or
less extent even where the parents have done everything possible for the
child. Christ takes an extreme case where the wisdom and experience of
the father were scorned; where a wilful son insisted upon learning for
himself of the things against which the father had warned him. He was of
age; parental authority could no longer be exerted for his protection.
He had his way, and as long as his money lasted he found plenty of
associates willing to help him spend it; the "boys" had what the wicked
call "a good time." Then came the sobering up, the repentance, the
humility, the return, the father's welcome, the very natural complaint
of the other son and the parental rebuke--all so lifelike and all
designed to give emphasis to the love of the Heavenly Father and the joy
in Heaven when a wanderer returns. How many souls it has awakened! The
thought has been beautifully translated into song by Rev. Robt. Lowry,
in "Where Is My Wandering Boy To-night?" which has probably touched more
hearts than any sermon delivered since the song was written in 1877.
In passing, note the contrast between the Rich Young Man and the
Prodigal Son. The former, an exemplary youth, is lost because he put the
love of money first--we see his back as he retires into oblivion. The
latter, a reckless sinner, repentant and forgiven; we leave him at a
banquet, happy with father and friends who rejoice that one who "was
dead is alive again."
The parable of The Talents has shamed a multitude into activity, while
the parable of The Vineyard has been an encouragement to those who have
neglected early calls to service. He used the great preservative, salt,
to illustrate the saving influence His followers would exert on society
and warned them not to lose this quality. He likened them to a city set
on a hill and to the light that illumines the entire house.
Christ gave the world a philosophy that fits into every human need; He
sounded all the depths. In the first and third of the Beatitudes He
exalts humility--a virtue difficult to cultivate, and even to retain
after one has cultivated it. Some one has suggested that pride is
such an insidious sin that the humble sometimes become proud of their
humility. Christ sets two prizes before the humble--the poor in spirit
are to have the Kingdom of Heaven for their recompense while the meek
are to be given the earth for their inheritance.
The mourners are to be comforted and the merciful are to obtain mercy.
Righteousness is to be the reward of those who hunger and thirst
after it, and the peacemakers are to be crowned with one of the most
honourable of appellations, the children of God.
He devotes double space to those who are reviled and persecuted for His
sake, foreseeing the fierce opposition which His Gospel would arouse. In
the study of the Beatitudes one Sunday, I asked the members of an adult
class which they considered first in importance. Although there was
quite a wide difference in preference, the Sixth, "Blessed are the pure
in heart, for they shall see God," received the highest vote. And what
can be more important than the cleansing of the heart of all that
obstructs one's view of God? The Creator is equally near to all His
creatures--He is no respecter of persons. It is man's fault if he allows
anything to come between himself and the Heavenly Father. Surely,
nothing is more to be desired than the unclouded vision. "Thou shalt
have no other gods before me," is the first of the Commandments brought
down from Sinai and its primacy is endorsed by the Saviour: the sixth
Beatitude expresses the same supreme requirement. No false gods, not
even self--the most popular of all the false gods--must be permitted to
come between man and his Maker.
Christ put into simple words some of the great rules for the
interpretation of life. "By their fruits ye shall know them," has become
a part of the language of the civilized world. "Do men gather grapes of
thorns, or figs of thistles?" He asks. "A good tree cannot bring forth
evil fruit, neither can a corrupt tree bring forth good fruit." Here a
great spiritual principle was announced. We must consider the _nature;_
nothing less than a change in the nature can change the fruit. A bad
heart is just as sure to bring forth bad thoughts and bad deeds as the
thistle is to bring forth thorns. And so the good heart is just as sure
to yield good deeds as the grape-vine is to yield grapes or the fig-tree
is to yield figs. Look at the _tree_, therefore; the fruit will take
care of itself.
In the Sermon on the Mount, in which He embodied such a wealth of moral
precept and spiritual counsel, He warned against investments in that
which would divert the affections from the great purpose of life. "Lay
not up for yourselves treasures on earth, but lay up for yourselves
treasures in heaven." "For where your treasure is, there will your heart
be also." It was the heart that He dealt with--always the heart, in
which man does his decisive thinking and out of which are "the issues of
life."
The Master dealt with the beginnings of evil. He did not wait until the
sin had been completed or the wrong accomplished. He cut out the bad
purpose at its birth before it had time to develop. He says:
And if thy right eye offend thee, pluck it out, and cast it from
thee: for it is profitable for thee that one of thy members should
perish, and not that thy whole body should be cast into hell. And if
thy right hand offend thee, cut it off, and cast it from thee: for
it is profitable for thee that one of thy members should perish, and
not that thy whole body should be cast into hell (Matt. 3: 29).
This may seem like a harsh doctrine and yet it is merely an application
to morals of a salutary principle that all understand when applied by
the surgeon. A finger is often removed in order to save the hand; a hand
is removed to save the arm; and an arm is removed to save the body. An
eye, too, is often removed to save the sight of the remaining eye. Is
eye or arm or body more important than the soul?
Christ understood relative values in the spiritual world. He used the
material things in life to illustrate values in the realm of the ideal;
He used the things that are seen to make understandable the eternal
things that the senses cannot comprehend.
And what called forth this powerful illustration--the sacrificing of
the right eye and the right hand to save the body? He was laying the
foundation for a great moral reform, namely, the single standard of
morality. He was attacking a great sin and, as usual, He laid the axe at
the root of the tree. He was dealing with adultery and He traced the sin
to its source. He would purge the heart of the unclean thought; He would
put a ban on the desire before it found vent in accomplishment. He
turned the thought from the body to the heart and to the soul.
And He not only warned men against harbouring the seeds of this sin but
He rebuked them for injustice in dealing more harshly with woman than
they did with themselves. He did not condone sin; He forgave it, and
accompanied forgiveness with the injunction, "Sin no more."
Christ dignified childhood next to womanhood. One of His most beautiful
lessons was woven about a child which He summoned from the crowd. The
child's faith was made the test--"Except ye be converted and become as
little children ye shall not enter into the kingdom." And again, "Suffer
the little children to come unto me and forbid them not: for of such is
the kingdom of heaven."
His depth of affection--His longing for souls--is beautifully set forth
in Matthew 23: 37 when He uses the most familiar object in the animal
kingdom to express His solicitude: "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that
killest the prophets, and stonest them which are sent unto thee, how
often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a hen
gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not!"
And yet this gentle spirit who would not break a bruised reed--who went
about doing good--was wont to blaze forth with hot indignation against
sordidness and systematized injustice. Hear His fierce denunciation of
the "scribes, Pharisees and hypocrites" who devoured widows' houses
and for a pretense made long prayers; and behold Him casting the
money-changers out of the temple because they had turned the house of
prayer into a den of thieves.
In a startling paradox He sets forth a great truth: "Whosoever shall
save his life shall lose it; but whosoever shall lose his life for my
sake, the same shall save it." When, before or since, has the littleness
of the self-centered been so exposed and the nobility of self-surrender
been so glorified? Wendell Phillips has given a splendid paraphrase of
this wonderful utterance. He says, "How prudently most men sink into
nameless graves, while now and then a few forget themselves into
immortality."
But the one doctrine which more than any other distinguished His
teachings from those of uninspired instructors, is forgiveness. Time
and again He brings it forward and lays emphasis upon it. In the very
beginning of His ministry He drew a contrast between the perverted
morals of that day and the spiritual life into which He would lead them
(Matt. 5):
Ye have heard that it hath been said, Thou shalt love thy neighbour,
and hate thine enemy. But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless
them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for
them which despitefully use you and persecute you; That ye may be
the children of your Father which is in heaven, for he maketh his
sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the
just and on the unjust. For if ye love them which love you, what
reward have ye? Do not even the publicans the same? And if ye salute
your brethren only, what do ye more than others? Do not even the
publicans so? Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is
in heaven is perfect.
A little later, He embodies the thought in the Lord's Prayer--"Forgive
us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us." He
follows that with a scathing arraignment of the cruel servant, who,
having been forgiven a debt almost incalculable in amount, refused to
forgive a small debt due to him. Even when in agony upon the cross the
thought of forgiveness was uppermost in the Saviour's heart and He
prayed: "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do!"
He was not thinking of relief to wrong-doers when He made forgiveness a
cardinal principle in the moral code that He promulgated. It was not,
I am persuaded, to shield from just punishment one who does injury to
another, but to save the injured from the paralyzing influence of the
thirst for revenge. It is only rarely that one has an opportunity to
retaliate, but the desire for retaliation is a soul-destroying disease.
Christ would purge the heart of hatred and make love the law of life.
Christianity has been called "The Gospel of the Second Chance"; it is
more than that. There is no limit to the chances that it offers to the
repentant. When Christ was asked whether one should forgive a brother
seven times He answered, "Seventy times seven." Christianity is the only
hope of the discouraged and the despondent. Walter Malone has put into a
poem entitled "Opportunity" the exhaustless mercy that Christ holds out
to men. I quote the concluding stanzas:
Though deep in mire, wring not your hands and weep:
I lend my arm to all who say "I can";
No shamefaced outcast ever sank so deep
But he might rise and be again a man!
Dost thou behold thy lost youth all aghast?
Dost reel from righteous retribution's blow?
Then turn from blotted archives of the past,
And find the future's pages white as snow.
Art thou a mourner? Rouse thee from thy spell;
Art thou a sinner? Sins may be forgiven.
Each morning gives thee wings to flee from hell,
Each night a star to guide thy feet to heaven.
When the Heavenly Father reserved to Himself the right to avenge
injuries He conferred an incalculable benefit upon mankind, just as He
did when He imposed upon the organs of the body the task of keeping
us alive. Not a heart could beat, nor could the lungs expand if their
movement had been left to the voluntary act of man. But God has relieved
His creatures of concern about blood and breath that man, freed from a
labour beyond his strength, may employ his time in the service of his
Maker. And so man is relieved from the impossible task of avenging
wrongs done him that he may devote himself to the public weal.
I shall at another time speak of some of the present-day fruits of this
doctrine taught nineteen centuries ago; I present it now as one of the
most difficult of the Christian virtues to cultivate, but one of the
most prolific in the blessings that it bestows. It contributes largely
to the securing of peace, and Christ is the Prince of Peace.
All the world is in search of peace; every heart that ever beat has
sought for peace and many have been the methods employed to secure it.
Some have thought to purchase it with riches and they have laboured to
secure wealth, hoping to find peace when they were able to go where
they pleased and buy what they liked. Of those who have endeavoured to
purchase peace with money, the large majority have failed to secure
the money. But what has been the experience of those who have been
successful in accumulating money? They all tell the same story, viz.,
that they spent the first half of their lives trying to get money from
others and the last half trying to keep others from getting their money
and that they found peace in neither half. Some have even reached the
point where they find difficulty in getting worthy institutions to
accept their money; and I know of no better indication of the ethical
awakening in this country than the increasing tendency to scrutinize the
methods of money-making. A long step in advance will have been taken
when religious, educational and charitable institutions refuse to
condone immoral methods in business and leave the possessor of
ill-gotten gains to learn the loneliness of life when one prefers money
to morals.
Some have sought peace in social distinctions, but whether they have
been within the charmed circle and fearful lest they might fall out, or
outside and hopeful that they might get in, they have not found peace.
Some have thought, vain thought! to find peace in political prominence;
but whether office comes by birth, as in monarchies, or by election, as
in republics, it does not bring peace. An office is conspicuous only
when few can occupy it. Only when few in a generation can hope to enjoy
an honour do we call it a _great_ honour. I am glad that our Heavenly
Father did not make the peace of the human heart to depend upon the
accumulation of wealth, or upon the securing of social or political
distinction, for in either case but few could have enjoyed it. When He
made peace the reward of a conscience void of offense toward God and
man, He put it within the reach of all. The poor can secure it as easily
as the rich, the social outcast as freely as the leader in society, and
the humblest citizen equally with those who wield political power.
"Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give
you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and
lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is
easy, and my burden is light" (Matt. 11:28-30).
Here is a call to _all_--to every human being. No one is beyond the
reach of Jesus' love. The yoke is the emblem of service and service
is the price of happiness. We wear many yokes in common--the yoke of
society, the yoke of government, and the yoke of custom, not to speak of
a multitude of yokes that are individual. Wherever the Gospel has been
carried there are two yokes between which a choice must be made--the
devil's yoke and the yoke of the Master.
Let no one be deceived--if the devil would tempt the Saviour Himself,
will he not tempt you? Satan's service is alluring--it begins in
pleasure and ends in sorrow--"the dead are there!" Christ's service
begins in duty and ends in delight--"Blessed is the man who endureth
temptation." The devil's path is like a forest road at eventide; it
grows darker and darker until all is lost in the blackness of the night.
Christ's path leads from darkness into light.
"He is risen!" What inspiration in these words! Nature proclaims a life
beyond the grave, but Christ proves it by His resurrection. Nature gives
circumstantial evidence that would seem conclusive; but Christ is the
living witness whose testimony establishes beyond controversy that the
mortal can put on immortality. He comforts those who mourn; He dispels
the gloom by making death but a narrow, star-lit strip between the
companionship of yesterday and the reunion of to-morrow. Christ not only
gives us assurance of immortality but He adds the promise of His return.
As He ascended in like manner will He come again.
"And, lo, he goeth before you into Galilee." Yes, He is still going on
before--still leading, and His leadership will continue until time shall
be no more.