_PROPITIATION._
"He is the propitiation for our sins, and not for ours only, but also
for the sins of the whole world."--1 John ii. 2.
It is easier to attack than to defend. An objection may be stated in a
single sentence which shall require many pages for an adequate reply.
Those who reject Christianity generally adopt this method, but I know
not why they should be allowed to monopolise it. Why should not
believers, instead of simply proving that there is a God, and that the
Bible is His Word, insist upon positive proof from their opponents
that there is no God, and that the Bible is nothing more than a human
book? Why should we not impose upon them the more difficult task of
defending their position, by attacking it with all earnestness at
every point? For Christian defence, we have need to be both really and
consciously very strong in the truth. On the other hand, to be an
unbeliever, a man can do without either knowledge or goodness. He has
only to ply you with his eternal "_Why?_" _Why_, because the universe
exists, must it have ever been _created_? _Why_ may it not have always
existed? _Why_ are we bound to accept the teaching of the Bible? _Why_
was it necessary that Christ should suffer to expiate our sins? _Why_
did Christ come so late in the history of the world? _Why_ are there
no miracles now? _Why? Why? Why?_--
As Christians, however, we take the position open to us, whether of
attack or defence. We do so because the salvation of our adversaries
is dear to us, and because we are so sure that the course they adopt
injures, not ourselves, but them. We bring to them a priceless
treasure--salvation through, and from, the crucified Christ. If they
hinder us, the loss is theirs.
On the present occasion we deal with one of the questions often
propounded: "Why was it necessary that Christ should die for our sins,
in order that we may be saved?" or, "How can the sufferings of the
innocent atone for the sins of the guilty?"
To make our answer more clear, we begin by saying: "We do not know."
Why should we insist--why should any one insist--upon understanding
the "_why_" of this arrangement? Why should not every one be content
to know the _fact_? If the reason of the fact were obvious, we should,
of course, gladly accept it; but if it be hidden from us, whilst the
fact itself is disclosed, why should we complain? We cannot fully
understand the Divine purposes. We can only guess. Even angels study,
and wonder, and adore, but do not fully know. Let it be observed that
the real question here is not exactly as unbelievers put it. Thus: I
do not know how the rays of the sun enlighten my eyes, nor how my
enlightened eyes transmit ideas to my mind. Does it follow that the
sun does not enlighten, or that my mind does not receive impressions
through what I see? The imperative question is, not, "How is the thing
done?" but, "_Is_ it done?"--not as to the _reason_ of the fact, but
the _reality_ of it. So in the matter before us. It is surely enough
for us to show that redemption through the sacrifice of Christ, like
the sun, comes from God, and that it gives light, life, and fruit.
This being done, nothing more can be reasonably asked.
To know whether this doctrine of redemption is God's truth, it is
sufficient to know whether the Bible is God's Word. And here we ask,
What will you do with ancient prophecies and their fulfilment?--with
confirmations of Bible history which are continually accumulating?--with
the conspicuous excellence of the moral teaching and influence which the
Bible supplies?--with the sublimity of Christ's character?--with the
miracles He wrought?--with the marvellous effects of Christianity upon
the world, notwithstanding the strongest inducements, in human
prejudice, to its rejection? Settle such questions as these according to
the admitted laws of evidence, and then there will be no reason to
contend as to the "why" and the "how" of redemption.
Such, however, is not the method which the unbeliever pursues. He
turns away from the Record as a source of instruction. It is hard to
convince a man who begins by closing his ears with his own pride. To
whatever study a man addresses himself, he will never advance in it in
_spite_ of himself. His progress will be proportioned, among other
things, to the amount of honest effort he makes to learn. That is, he
must feel the fact and the disadvantage of his own ignorance. Who
could study mathematics by beginning at the outset to dispute its
axioms? Just so with Christian truth. Put aside prejudice and pride.
Do not take it for granted that you have light enough in your mind, at
starting, to pronounce upon the truth or the falsity, the
reasonableness or the unreasonableness, of the doctrine of salvation
through the cross of Christ. Listen attentively. Look for more light,
and receive it when it comes. We do not say: "Believe before you have
read;" but we do say: "Don't contradict before you have read."
I have already said that we are not obliged to _explain_ the
philosophy of the redemption which is taught in the Scriptures. Let me
now say that that redemption is itself the best solution of the great
difficulty which is felt by the believer and the unbeliever alike. It
is this: Conscience tells us that God is just; the heart tells us that
He is good;--how then can a God whose justice and goodness are equal,
_i.e._, both of them infinite, escape from the position in which
sinners have placed Him? I put the difficulty in this bold form in
order that it may be the more distinctly apprehended. We have sinned,
and a just God must punish. We sigh after happiness, and a good God--a
God who is infinitely kind--may be expected to bestow happiness upon
us. But how can God deal with us in both these ways at one and the
same time?
We know instinctively, of course, that there is no real dilemma to God
Himself; but those who reject the atonement of Christ are bound to
deal with what presents itself as an inevitable dilemma to _them_.
The unbeliever says: "God is too good to punish." What then becomes of
His justice, since conscience testifies that we are sinners, that sin
deserves punishment, that vice and virtue are not one, that God cannot
deal in the same way with both without encouraging the vice which
needs to be suppressed, and discouraging the virtue which needs to be
upheld? Take away the fear of punishment under the pretext that God is
good, and you deprive conscience of its meaning and its power.
Shall it be said, then, that God will punish every transgressor? Have
the numberless generations which have been upon the earth gone to an
inevitable doom? This conclusion is as hard to admit as the other. The
instincts of the heart are against it.
No; men do not accept either conclusion to the exclusion of the other.
They say God will adopt a mean between His justice and His mercy so
as to bring them into harmony. But how? Here is the crucial
difficulty. Is it to be solved by the principle of mutual concession?
Let me remind you, again, that the difficulty is not created by God,
but by man. In Him, justice and mercy are really one: it is only to us
that they are seen to be two; and it is our sin which disturbs and
confuses our conception of their union with each other. He might
indeed annihilate us, and so leave us no opportunity to complain. But
our whole moral and emotional nature repels with horror the thought of
such a termination to our sin, as being unworthy of the God who has to
govern us. No! when we reflect seriously upon the question, we cannot
resist the feeling that God must have some plan of rescuing us from
the doom we merit which shall give equal expression to His justice and
His mercy.
Men in general, alas! hold justice cheaply, and, lowering the Divine
standard of human character, they easily persuade themselves that they
may enter heaven through the breach they have made in the Divine
attributes. They think that God is indulgent, and will forgive,
forgetting that indulgence is weakness. God _will_ forgive, but His
forgiveness must stand on safe ground. It cannot apply indiscriminately
to all men. Men think they have said all when they have said, "God will
forgive." Such a forgiveness would aim a blow at His justice. No matter;
He will forgive! Such a forgiveness is without motive--an effect without
a cause. No matter; He will forgive! Such a forgiveness has its root in
sentiment, not in reason. It matters not; He will forgive! Such a
forgiveness imposes no obligation on the forgiver, and encourages sin.
Never mind; He will forgive!
Surely this is the spiritual blindness which comes from the perversion
of the conscience and the heart.
Some say, "God forgives; but the condition is that we turn away from
sin and live a life of holiness." There are many answers to this; but
I will only ask those who thus speak, "Are you now living in such a
way as to have in your present holiness, and on the ground of it, the
assurance of your pardon?" That is a question which conscience may be
safely left to answer.
At this point Christianity comes professing to reveal to us the Divine
plan of salvation. It tells us that God forgives for the sake of Jesus
Christ, who is Himself, in His sacrifice, the gift of the Father's
love. A debt has been contracted; the insolvent debtor presents in
payment the money which a friend has freely contributed for the
purpose; the creditor is satisfied. In this way goodness and justice
are reconciled. It is Divine love which meets the claim of the Divine
Righteousness. The redeemed soul, redeemed by the blood of Christ, is
led to obedience by a love which responds to the love which has
redeemed him. This last result none can dispute. Does it spring from
error? No; it is too pure, too blessed for that. The redemption that
produces it is a true principle founded in the nature of God--sublime
in its working--like sap, inexplicable, but justified by the beauty of
its foliage and the goodliness of its fruits.
Let us look a little more closely into this principle of Propitiation.
Suppose we were reading the gospel for the first time, free from
prejudice, and from the deadening influence of habit; we should be
struck with the prominence everywhere given in it to the death of
Christ. Ask a Christian child, or an aged saint, "What did Christ come
on earth to do?" The answer from each will be, "He came to die for
us." The child finds his answer on the very surface of Scripture; the
aged man finds it in that same Scripture when he has studied it to its
very depths. The one quickly learns that this death of Christ was
often predicted by Christ Himself, that it holds the most prominent
place in each of the four Gospels, that it is constantly referred to
in the Epistles, that it is the text of all the preaching of the
apostles, and that it is symbolised in both the sacraments, for "we
are buried by baptism into His death," and whenever in the Supper we
partake of the bread and wine, we "show forth His death till He come."
The mature Christian, in his turn, learns to look upon the death of
Christ as the centre and the soul of all the great acts of the great
work of our redemption, which seem, whether they preceded or followed,
to have been done in direct view of it, and in indissoluble connection
with it. The incarnation was designed to open up the way for it.
"Forasmuch then as the children are partakers of flesh and blood, He
also Himself likewise took part of the same; that through death He
might destroy him that had the power of death, that is, the devil."
The resurrection was intended to attest its meaning and its value. For
Christ was "delivered for our offences, and was raised again for our
justification." The object of the ascension was to secure the
precious fruits of it. "For He entered in once into the holy place,
having obtained eternal redemption for us."
The remarkable thing in all this is that in the gospel, the aim of
which is to reveal eternal life, the Prince of Life is always offered
to us as dying upon the cross. _Death in order to life!_ What can be
the meaning and the bearing of a death which God has placed in so
exalted a position? We can only get our answer from Scripture; and we
can only get it from Scripture as we read in the simple,
unsophisticated humility of mind and heart of which Christ Himself and
His apostles give us the example.
"_Jesus Christ is the propitiation for our sins._" We have sinned
against God, and our sins have been so many _offences_ to Him;
offences which must be dealt with. Christ averts the penalty from us
by taking it to Himself. The Holy One consents to suffer for the sake
of the guilty. The apostle who styles Christ as the "Propitiation" has
said, in a sentence immediately preceding: "The blood of Jesus Christ
His Son cleanseth us from all sin." Almost numberless passages teach
the same doctrine. If we were engaged in an exercise of Biblical
criticism, we should have to discuss each of these passages minutely
in its turn. But the general idea we gather from them is definite and
clear. A ransom paid, our sins borne, the wrath of God appeased, an
offered sacrifice--all these contain one idea: Jesus Christ freeing us
from the desert of our sin by Himself satisfying Divine Justice on our
behalf.
Hence the two great facts of our religious history. We were under the
condemnation of a holy law. He who was "the Life," _for our sake_
endured death that we who deserved death might have life _for His
sake_. And God is "faithful and just to forgive us our sins."
To a simple-hearted Christian all this is clear. Men may be
scandalised at the exchange (as they term it) between justice and sin,
between life and death; but Paul knows how to state the matter: "God
hath made Him (Christ) to be sin for us, who knew no sin, that we
might be made the righteousness of God in Him." Men may be indignant
(as they often profess to be) at the thought of the innocent suffering
for the guilty; but Peter does not hesitate to say: "Christ hath once
suffered for sins, the just for the unjust, that He might bring us to
God."
What is it, moreover, that _connects_ the teaching of the Old
Testament with that of the New? The doctrine of sacrifice, as thus
explained, is not simply _attested_ by Scripture: it is the _soul_ of
it; its bond of unity. The death of Christ is _the_ sacrifice "once
offered in the end of the world," in which all the sacrifices of the
Old Testament find their common destination; to which they correspond,
as the figure to the reality. The cross is the end, the key, the
meaning, the value of all of them. Without this we cannot understand
them. They were types: the cross is the antitype. What they
_represented_, the cross _achieved_. The cross procured the pardon
which they proclaimed. And so the cross has always been the symbol of
the Christian Church. The Jews understood it, and were scandalised;
the Greeks understood it, and sneered.
And now what ends does this sacrifice of Propitiation serve? Mainly
two, which are inclusive of all the rest.
I. It is the fullest revelation of the Divine character. Leaving aside
all questions of abstract and technical theology, we observe that it
sets before us, in one great act, the righteousness and the mercy of
God. The cross proclaims the pardon for which infinite love solicits.
_The heart of God yields to itself._ But how can this be? It is
because the pardon solicited by love is obtained by a sacrifice which
equally exhibits God's righteousness. If we seek the universe through
for the greatest proof we can have of the love of God to the sinner,
we shall find it in the cross; for we there see not only that God
forgives, but also that He is _so resolved_ to forgive that, rather
than that the sinner shall be left to perish, the stroke of the
offended law shall fall on the willing head and heart and life of "His
only begotten and well-beloved Son." On the other hand, if we want to
know something of God's abhorrence of sin, we shall find it in the
cross; for we there see that, so impossible is it for Him to allow it
to go unpunished, that He secures for it a Divine expiation in the
willing sacrifice of His Divine Son. "Mercy and truth are met
together; righteousness and peace have kissed each other." Most
persons can see in the cross a demonstration of Divine love; in the
light of Bible teaching, they may also see in it a demonstration of
Divine justice more marked and telling than in a closed Eden, in the
waters of the Deluge, in the overthrow of the cities of the plain, in
the destruction of Jerusalem, or in the punishment of the wicked in
eternity.
II. If men are to be saved at all, they must be saved _to holiness_;
they must be sanctified as well as forgiven. The result cannot be
otherwise for those who truly believe in the sacrifice of Christ as
thus explained. Holiness and love, the two great elements of the
character of God; these are expressed in the cross, and they must be
reproduced in the character of those for whom the cross does its
appointed work. How can we believe, as the cross teaches us to
believe, in God's hatred to sin, without feeling that we must hate it
also, and, hating it, must forsake it? And how can we believe, as the
cross teaches us to believe, in the love which has obtained our
salvation, without giving our own love as a genuine, though feeble,
return? Let a man, struggling with the sins which he condemns, but
which he cannot shake off, learn that the Son of God came into the
world to die for him; and he will find in that revelation a strength
for conflict with sin which he never had before. Speak to him of the
beauty and dignity of the law, of the righteousness of God's claims,
of the penalties of transgression; and, though his conscience may
assent to all you say, his heart will not yield. Can he refuse when he
sees Jesus on the cross, and knows what, for him, that spectacle
means? The cross is an argument presented to his reason, his
conscience, his will, his heart, his whole being; nay, it is more than
an argument, it is an appeal; and the response must be: "We love Him
because He first loved us." "The love of Christ constraineth us;
because we thus judge, that if one died for all, then were all dead:
and that He died for all, that they which live should not henceforth
live unto themselves, but unto Him who died for them, and rose again."
And now it only remains to be said that this Propitiation is needed by
all, that it is sufficient for all, and that it is free to all. Let
all receive it.