It is of the utmost importance to understand the true character and
object of the moral law, as set forth in this chapter. There is a
tendency in the mind to confound the principles of law and grace, so
that neither the one nor the other can be rightly understood. Law is
shorn of its stern and unbending majesty, and grace is robbed of all
its divine attractions. God's holy claims remain unanswered, and the
sinner's deep and manifold necessities remain unreached, by the
anomalous system framed by those who attempt to mingle law and grace.
In point of fact, they can never be made to coalesce, for they are as
distinct as any two things can be. Law sets forth what man ought to
be, grace exhibits what God is. How can these ever be wrought up into
one system? How can the sinner ever be saved by a system made up of
half law, half grace? Impossible. It must be either the one or the
other.
The law has sometimes been termed "the transcript of the mind of God."
This definition is entirely defective. Were we to term it a transcript
of the mind of God as to what man ought to be, we should be nearer the
truth. If I am to regard the ten commandments as the transcript of the
mind of God, then, I ask, is there nothing in the mind of God save
"Thou shalt" and "Thou shalt not"? Is there no grace? no mercy? no
loving-kindness? Is God not to manifest what He is? Is He not to tell
out the deep secrets of that love which dwells in His bosom? Is there
naught in the divine character but stern requirement and prohibition?
Were this so, we should have to say, God is law, instead of "God is
love." But, blessed be His name, there is more in His heart than could
ever be wrapped up in the "ten words" uttered on the fiery mount. If I
want to see what God is, I must look at Christ; "for in Him dwelleth
all the fullness of the Godhead bodily." (Col. ii. 9.) "The law was
given by Moses, but grace and truth came by Jesus Christ." (John i.
17.) Assuredly there was a measure of truth in the law; it contained
the truth as to what man ought to be. Like everything else emanating
from God, it was perfect so far as it went--perfect for the object for
which it was administered; but that object was not, by any means, to
unfold, in the view of guilty sinners, the nature and character of
God. There was no grace, no mercy. "He that despised Moses' law died
without mercy." (Heb. x. 28.) "The man that doeth these things shall
live by them." (Lev. xviii. 5; Rom. x. 5.) "Cursed is every one that
continueth not in all things that are written in the book of the law
to do them." (Deut. xxvii. 26; Gal. iii. 10.) This was not grace.
Indeed, Mount Sinai was not the place to look for any such thing.
There Jehovah revealed Himself in awful majesty, amid blackness,
darkness, tempest, thunderings, and lightnings. These were not the
attendant circumstances of an economy of grace and mercy; but they
were well suited to one of truth and righteousness, and the law was
that and nothing else.
In the law, God sets forth what a man ought to be, and pronounces a
curse upon him if he _is_ not that. But then a man finds, when he
looks at himself in the light of the law, that he actually is the very
thing which the law condemns. How then is he to get life by it? It
proposes life and righteousness as the ends to be attained by keeping
it; but it proves, at the very outset, that we are in a state of death
and unrighteousness. We want the very things at the beginning which
the law proposed to be gained at the end. How, therefore, are we to
gain them? In order to _do_ what the law requires, I must have life;
and in order to _be_ what the law requires, I must have righteousness;
and if I have not both the one and the other, I am "cursed." But the
fact is, I have neither. What am I to do? This is the question. Let
those who "desire to be teachers of the law" furnish an answer. Let
them furnish a satisfactory reply to an upright conscience, bowed down
under the double sense of the spirituality and inflexibility of the
law and its own hopeless carnality.
The truth is, as the apostle teaches us, "the law entered that the
offense might abound." (Rom. v. 20.) This shows us very distinctly the
real object of the law. It came in by the way in order to set forth
the exceeding sinfulness of sin. (Rom. vii. 13.) It was, in a certain
sense, like a perfect mirror let down from heaven to reveal to man his
moral derangement. If I present myself with deranged habit before a
mirror, it shows me the derangement, but does not set it right. If I
measure a crooked wall with a perfect plumb-line, it reveals the
crookedness, but does not remove it. If I take out a lamp on a dark
night, it reveals to me all the hindrances and disagreeables in the
way, but it does not remove them. Moreover, the mirror, the
plumb-line, and the lamp do not _create_ the evils which they
severally point out; they neither _create_ nor _remove_, but simply
_reveal_. Thus it is with the law; it does not create the evil in
man's heart, neither does it remove it; but, with unerring accuracy,
it reveals it.
"What shall we say then? Is the law sin? God forbid. Nay, I had not
known sin, but by the law; for I had not known lust, except the law
had said, 'Thou shalt not covet.'" (Rom. vii. 7.) He does not say that
he would not have had "lust." No; but merely that he "had not known"
it. The "lust" was there; but he was in the dark about it until the
law, as "the candle of the Almighty," shone in upon the dark chambers
of his heart and revealed the evil that was there. Like a man in a
dark room, who may be surrounded with dust and confusion, but he
cannot see aught thereof by reason of the darkness. Let the beams of
the sun dart in upon him, and he quickly perceives all. Do the
sunbeams create the dust? Surely not. The dust is there, and they only
detect and reveal it. This is a simple illustration of the effect of
the law. It judges man's character and condition; it proves him to be
a sinner, and shuts him up under the curse; it comes to judge what he
is, and curses him if he is not what it tells him he ought to be.
It is therefore a manifest impossibility that any one can get life and
righteousness by that which can only curse him; and unless the
condition of the sinner, and the character of the law are totally
changed, it can do naught else but curse him. It makes no allowance
for infirmities, and knows nothing of sincere, though imperfect,
obedience. Were it to do so, it would not be what it is--"holy, just,
and good." It is just because the law is what it is that the sinner
cannot get life by it. If he could get life by it, it would not be
perfect, or else he would not be a sinner. It is impossible that a
sinner can get life by a perfect law, for inasmuch as it is perfect,
it must needs condemn him. Its absolute perfectness makes manifest and
seals man's absolute ruin and condemnation. "Therefore, by deeds of
law shall no flesh living be justified in His sight; for by the law is
the knowledge of sin." (Rom. iii. 20.) He does not say, By the law is
sin, but only "the knowledge of sin." "For until the law, sin was in
the world; but sin is not imputed when there is no law." (Rom. v. 13.)
Sin was there, and it only needed law to develop it in the form of
"transgression." It is as if I say to my child, You must not touch
that knife. My very prohibition reveals the tendency in his heart to
do his own will. It does not create the tendency, but only reveals it.
The apostle John says that "sin is lawlessness." (1 John iii. 4.) The
word "transgression" does not develop the true idea of the Spirit in
this passage. In order to have "transgression," I must have a definite
rule or line laid down. Transgression means a passing across a
prohibited line; such a line I have in the law. I take any one of its
prohibitions, such as, "Thou shalt not kill," "Thou shalt not commit
adultery," "Thou shalt not steal." Here I have a rule or line set
before me; but I find I have within me the very principles against
which these prohibitions are expressly directed. Yea, the very fact of
my being told not to commit murder shows that I have murder in my
nature. There would be no necessity to tell me not to do a thing
which I had no tendency to do; but the exhibition of God's will as to
what I ought to be makes manifest the tendency of my will to be what I
ought not. This is plain enough, and is in full keeping with the whole
of the apostolic reasoning on the point.
Many, however, will admit that we cannot get life by the law; but they
maintain, at the same time, that the law is our rule of life. Now, the
apostle declares that "as many as are of works of law are under the
curse." (Gal. iii. 10.) It matters not who they are, if they occupy
the ground of law, they are, of necessity, under the curse. A man may
say, I am regenerate, and therefore not exposed to the curse. This
will not do. If regeneration does not take one off the ground of law,
it cannot take him beyond the range of the curse of the law. If the
Christian be under the former, he is, of necessity, exposed to the
latter. But what has the law to do with regeneration? where do we find
any thing about it in Exodus xx? The law has but one question to put
to a man,--a brief, solemn, pointed question, namely, Are you what you
ought to be? If he answer in the negative, it can but hurl its
terrible anathema at him and slay him. And who will so readily and
emphatically admit that, in himself, he is any thing but what he ought
to be, as the really regenerate man? Wherefore, if he is under the
law, he must inevitably be under the curse. The law cannot possibly
lower its standard, nor yet amalgamate with grace. Men do constantly
seek to lower its standard; they feel that they cannot get up to it,
and they therefore seek to bring it down to them; but the effort is in
vain: it stands forth in all its purity, majesty, and stern
inflexibility, and will not accept a single hair's breadth short of
perfect obedience; and where is the man, regenerate or unregenerate,
that can undertake to produce that? It will be said, We have
perfection in Christ. True; but that is not by the law, but by grace;
and we cannot possibly confound the two economies. Scripture largely
and distinctly teaches that we are not justified by the law; nor is
the law our rule of life. That which can only curse can never justify,
and that which can only kill can never be a rule of life. As well
might a man attempt to make a fortune by a deed of bankruptcy filed
against him.
If my reader will turn to the fifteenth of Acts, he will see how the
attempt to put Gentile believers under the law as a rule of life was
met by the Holy Ghost. "There rose up certain of the sect of the
Pharisees which believed, saying, that it was needful to circumcise
them, and to command them to keep the law of Moses." This was nothing
else than the hiss of the old serpent, making itself heard in the dark
and depressing suggestion of those early legalists. But let us see how
it was met by the mighty energy of the Holy Ghost, and the unanimous
voice of the twelve apostles and the whole Church. "And when there had
been much disputing, Peter rose up, and said unto them, 'Men and
brethren, ye know how that a good while ago God made choice among us,
that the Gentiles by my mouth should hear'"--what? Was it the
requirements and the curses of _the law_ of Moses? No. Blessed be God,
these are not what He would have falling on the ears of helpless
sinners. Hear what, then? "SHOULD HEAR THE WORD OF THE GOSPEL, AND
BELIEVE." This was what suited the nature and character of God. He
never would have troubled men with the dismal accents of requirement
and prohibition. These Pharisees were not His messengers; far from it.
They were not the bearers of glad tidings, nor the publishers of
peace, and therefore their "feet" were aught but "beautiful" in the
eyes of One who only delights in mercy.
"Now, therefore," continues the apostle, "why tempt ye God, to put a
yoke upon the neck of the disciples, which neither our fathers nor we
were able to bear?" This was strong, earnest language. God did not
want "to put a yoke upon the neck" of those whose hearts had been set
free by the gospel of peace. He would rather exhort them to stand fast
in the liberty of Christ, and not be "entangled again with the yoke of
bondage." He would not send those whom He had received to His bosom of
love to be terrified by the "blackness and darkness and tempest" of
"the mount that might be touched." How could we ever admit the thought
that those whom God had received in grace He would rule by law?
Impossible. "We believe," says Peter, "that through the GRACE OF THE
LORD JESUS CHRIST we shall be saved, even as they." Both the Jews, who
had received the law, and the Gentiles, who never had, were now to be
"_saved_ through _grace_." And not only were they to be "saved" by
grace, but they were to "stand" in grace (Rom. v. 2.) and to "grow in
grace" (2 Pet. iii. 18.). To teach any thing else was to "tempt God."
Those Pharisees were subverting the very foundations of the Christian
faith; and so are all those who seek to put believers under the law.
There is no evil or error more abominable in the sight of the Lord
than legalism. Hearken to the strong language--the accents of
righteous indignation--which fell from the Holy Ghost in reference to
those teachers of the law,--"I would they were even cut off which
trouble you." (Gal. v. 12.)
And, let me ask, are the thoughts of the Holy Ghost changed in
reference to this question? Has it ceased to be a tempting of God to
place the yoke of legality upon a sinner's neck? Is it now in
accordance with His gracious will that the law should be read out in
the ears of sinners? Let my reader reply to these inquiries in the
light of the fifteenth of Acts and the epistle to the Galatians. These
scriptures, were there no other, are amply sufficient to prove that
God never intended that the "Gentiles should hear the word" of the
law. Had He so intended, He would assuredly have "made choice" of some
one to proclaim it in their ears. But no; when He sent forth His
"fiery law," He spoke only in _one_ tongue; but when He proclaimed the
glad tidings of salvation through the blood of the Lamb, He spoke in
the language "_of every nation under heaven_." He spoke in such a way
as that "_every man in his own tongue, wherein he was born_," might
hear the sweet story of grace. (Acts ii. 1-11.)
Further, when He was giving forth, from Mount Sinai, the stern
requirements of the covenant of works, He addressed Himself
exclusively to _one_ people. His voice was only heard within the
narrow inclosures of the Jewish nation; but when, on the plains of
Bethlehem, "the angel of the Lord" declared "good tidings of great
joy," He added those characteristic words, "which shall be to _all
people_." And again, when the risen Christ was sending forth His
heralds of salvation, His commission ran thus: "Go ye into _all the
world_ and preach the gospel to _every creature_." (Mark xvi. 15; Luke
ii. 10.) The mighty tide of grace, which had its source in the bosom
of God, and its channel in the blood of the Lamb, was designed to
rise, in the resistless energy of the Holy Ghost, far above the narrow
inclosures of Israel, and roll through the length and breadth of a
sin-stained world. "Every creature" must hear, "in his own tongue,"
the message of peace--the word of the gospel--the record of salvation
through the blood of the cross.
Finally, that nothing might be lacking to prove to our poor legal
hearts that Mount Sinai was not, by any means, the spot where the deep
secrets of the bosom of God were told out, the Holy Ghost has said,
both by the mouth of a prophet and an apostle, "How beautiful are the
feet of them that preach the gospel of peace, and bring glad tidings
of good things!" (Isa. iii. 7; Rom. x. 15.) But of those who sought
to be teachers of the law, the same Holy Ghost has said, "I would they
were even cut off which trouble you."
Thus, then, it is obvious that the law is neither the ground of life
to the sinner nor the rule of life to the Christian: Christ is both
the one and the other,--He is our life and He is our rule of life. The
law can only curse and slay. Christ is our life and righteousness. He
became a curse for us by hanging on a tree. He went down into the
place where the sinner lay--into the place of death and judgment; and
having, by His death, entirely discharged all that was or could be
against us, He became, in resurrection, the source of life and the
ground of righteousness to all who believe in His name. Having thus
life and righteousness in Him, we are called to walk not merely as the
law directs, but to "walk even as He walked." It will hardly be deemed
needful to assert that it is directly contrary to Christian ethics to
kill, commit adultery, or steal. But were a Christian to shape his way
according to these commands, or according to the entire decalogue,
would he yield the rare and delicate fruits which the epistle to the
Ephesians sets forth? Would the ten commandments ever cause a thief to
give up stealing, and go to work that he might have to give?--would
they ever transform a thief into a laborious and liberal man?
Assuredly not. The law says, "Thou shalt not steal;" but does it say,
Go and give to him that needeth,--Go, feed, clothe, and bless your
enemy,--Go, gladden by your benevolent feelings and your beneficent
acts the heart of him who only and always seeks your hurt? By no
means; and yet, were I under the law, as a rule, it could only curse
me and slay me. How is this, when the standard in the New Testament is
so much higher? Because I am weak, and the law gives me no strength
and shows me no mercy. The law _demands_ strength from one that has
none, and _curses_ him if he cannot display it. The gospel _gives_
strength to one that has none, and _blesses_ him in the exhibition of
it. The law proposes life as the end of obedience, the gospel gives
life as the only proper _ground_ of obedience.
But that I may not weary the reader with arguments, let me ask, If the
law be indeed the rule of a believer's life, where are we to find it
so presented in the New Testament? The inspired apostle evidently had
no thought of its being the rule when he penned the following words:
"For in Christ Jesus neither circumcision availeth any thing nor
uncircumcision, but a new creation. And as many as walk according to
_this rule_, peace be on them, and mercy, and on the Israel of God."
(Gal. vi. 15, 16.) What "rule"? The law? No; but the "new creation."
Where shall we find this in Exodus xx? It speaks not a word about "new
creation." On the contrary, it addresses itself to man as he is--in
his natural or old-creation state--and puts him to the test as to what
he is really able to do. Now if the law were the rule by which
believers are to walk, why does the apostle pronounce his benediction
on those who walk by another rule altogether? Why does he not say, As
many as walk according to the rule of the ten commandments? Is it not
evident, from this one passage, that the Church of God has a higher
rule by which to walk? Unquestionably. The ten commandments, though
forming, as all true Christians admit, a part of the canon of
inspiration, could never be the rule of life to one who has, through
infinite grace, been introduced into the new creation--one who has
received new life in Christ.
But some may ask, Is not the law perfect? and if perfect, what more
would you have? The law is divinely perfect. Yea, it is the very
perfection of the law which causes it to curse and slay those who are
not perfect if they attempt to stand before it. "The law is spiritual,
but I am carnal." It is utterly impossible to form an adequate idea of
the infinite perfectness and spirituality of the law. But then this
perfect law coming in contact with fallen humanity--this spiritual law
coming in contact with "the carnal mind," could only "work wrath" and
"enmity." (Rom. iv. 15; viii. 7.) Why? Is it because the law is not
perfect? No, but because it is, and man is a sinner. If man were
perfect, he would carry out the law in all its spiritual perfectness;
and even in the case of true believers, though they still carry about
with them an evil nature, the apostle teaches us "that the
righteousness of the law is fulfilled in us, who walk not after the
flesh, but after the Spirit." (Rom. viii. 4.) "He that loveth another
hath fulfilled the law.... Love worketh no ill to his neighbor;
therefore love is the fulfilling of the law." (Rom. xiii. 8-10.) If I
love a man, I shall not steal his property--nay, I shall seek to do
him all the good I can. All this is plain, and easily understood by
the spiritual mind; but it leaves entirely untouched the question of
the law, whether as the ground of life to a sinner or the rule of life
to the believer.
If we look at the law, in its two grand divisions, it tells a man to
love God with all his heart, and with all his soul, and with all his
mind; and to love his neighbor as himself. This is the sum of the law:
this, and not a tittle less, is what the law demands. But where has
this demand ever been responded to by any member of Adam's fallen
posterity? Where is the man who could say he loves God after such a
fashion? "The carnal mind [_i.e._, the mind which we have by nature]
is enmity against God." Man hates God and His ways. God came, in the
Person of Christ, and showed Himself to man--showed Himself, not in
the overwhelming brightness of His majesty, but in all the charm and
sweetness of perfect grace and condescension. What was the result? Man
hated God.--"Now have they both seen and hated both Me and My Father."
(John xv. 24.) But, it may be said, man ought to love God. No doubt,
and he deserves death and eternal perdition if he does not; but can
the law produce this love in man's heart? was that its design? By no
means, "for the law worketh wrath." The law finds man in a state of
enmity against God; and without ever altering that state (for that was
not its province), it commands him to love God with all his heart, and
curses him if he does not. It was not the province of the law to alter
or improve man's nature; nor yet could it impart any power to carry
out its righteous demands. It said, "This do, and thou shalt live." It
commanded man to love God. It did not reveal what God was to man, even
in his guilt and ruin; but it told man what he ought to be toward God.
This was dismal work. It was not the unfolding of the powerful
attractions of the divine character, producing in man true repentance
toward God, melting his icy heart, and elevating his soul in genuine
affection and worship. No: it was an inflexible command to love God;
and, instead of producing love, it "worked wrath;" not because God
ought not to be loved, but because man was a sinner.
Again, "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." Can "the natural
man" do this? Does he love his neighbor as himself? Is this the
principle which obtains in the chambers of commerce, the exchanges,
the banks, the marts, the fairs, and the markets of this world? Alas!
no. Man does not love his neighbor as he loves himself. No doubt he
ought; and if he were right, he would; but then he is all
wrong--totally wrong--and unless he is "born again" of the Word and
the Spirit of God, he cannot "see nor enter the kingdom of God." The
law cannot produce this new birth. It kills "the old man," but does
not, and cannot, create "the new." As an actual fact, we know that the
Lord Jesus Christ embodied, in His glorious Person, both God and our
neighbor, inasmuch as He was, according to the foundation-truth of the
Christian religion, "God manifest in the flesh." How did man treat
Him? Did he love Him with all his heart, or as himself? The very
reverse. He crucified Him between two thieves, having previously
preferred a murderer and a robber to that blessed One who had gone
about doing good--who had come forth from the eternal dwelling-place
of light and love--Himself the very living personification of that
light and love--whose bosom had ever heaved with purest sympathy with
human need--whose hand had ever been ready to dry the sinner's tears
and alleviate his sorrows. Thus we stand and gaze upon the cross of
Christ, and behold in it an unanswerable demonstration of the fact
that it is not within the range of man's nature or capacity to keep
the law.[10]
[10] For further exposition of the law, and also of the doctrine of
the Sabbath, the reader is referred to a tract entitled "A Scriptural
Inquiry into the True Nature of the Sabbath, the Law, and the
Christian Ministry."
It is peculiarly interesting to the spiritual mind, after all that has
passed before us, to observe the relative position of God and the
sinner at the close of this memorable chapter. "And the Lord said unto
Moses, 'Thus thou shalt say unto the children of Israel.... An altar
of earth thou shalt make unto Me, and shalt sacrifice thereon thy
burnt-offerings and thy peace-offerings, thy sheep and thine oxen: in
all places where I record My name I WILL COME UNTO THEE, AND I WILL
BLESS THEE. And if thou wilt make Me an altar of stone, thou shalt not
build it of hewn stone; for if thou lift up thy tool upon it, thou
hast polluted it. Neither shalt thou go up by steps unto Mine altar,
that thy nakedness be not discovered thereon.'" (Ver. 22-26.)
Here we find man not in the position of _a doer_, but of _a
worshiper_; and this, too, at the close of Exodus xx. How plainly this
teaches us that the atmosphere of Mount Sinai is not that which God
would have the sinner breathing,--that it is not the proper
meeting-place between God and man! "In all places where I record _My
name I will come unto thee, and I will bless thee_." How unlike the
terrors of the fiery mount is that spot where Jehovah records _His
name_, whither He "comes" to "bless" His worshiping people!
But further, God will meet the sinner at an altar without a hewn stone
or a step--a place of worship which requires no human workmanship to
erect, or human effort to approach. The former could only pollute, and
the latter could only display human "nakedness." Admirable type of the
meeting-place where God meets the sinner now, even the Person and work
of His Son, Jesus Christ, where all the claims of law, of justice, and
of conscience are perfectly answered! Man has, in every age and in
every clime, been prone, in one way or another, to "lift up his tool"
in the erection of his altar, or to approach thereto by steps of his
own making; but the issue of all such attempts has been "pollution"
and "nakedness." "We all do fade as a leaf, and all our
righteousnesses are as filthy rags." Who will presume to approach God
clad in a garment of "filthy rags"? or who will stand to worship with
a revealed "nakedness"? What can be more preposterous than to think of
approaching God in a way which necessarily involves either pollution
or nakedness? And yet thus it is in every case in which human effort
is put forth to open the sinner's way to God. Not only is there no
need of such effort, but defilement and nakedness are stamped upon it.
God has come down so very near to the sinner, even in the very depths
of his ruin, that there is no need for his lifting up the tool of
legality, or ascending the steps of self-righteousness,--yea, to do
so, is but to expose his uncleanness and his nakedness.
Such are the principles with which the Holy Ghost closes this most
remarkable section of inspiration. May they be indelibly written upon
our hearts, that so we may more clearly and fully understand the
essential difference between LAW and GRACE.
CHAPTERS XXI.-XXIII.
The study of this section of our book is eminently calculated to
impress the heart with a sense of God's unsearchable wisdom and
infinite goodness. It enables one to form some idea of the character
of a kingdom governed by laws of divine appointment. Here, too, we may
see the amazing condescension of Him who, though He is the great God
of heaven and earth, can, nevertheless, stoop to adjudicate between
man and man in reference to the death of an ox, the loan of a garment,
or the loss of a servant's tooth. "Who is like unto the Lord our God,
who humbleth Himself to behold the things that are in heaven and on
earth?" He governs the universe, and yet He can occupy Himself with
the provision of a covering for one of His creatures. He guides the
angel's flight and takes notice of a crawling worm. He humbles Himself
to regulate the movements of those countless orbs that roll through
infinite space, and to record the fall of a sparrow.
As to the character of the judgment set forth in the chapter before
us, we may learn a double lesson. These judgments and ordinances bear
a twofold witness: they convey to the ear a twofold message, and
present to the eye two sides of a picture. They tell of God and they
tell of man.
In the first place, on God's part, we find Him enacting laws which
exhibit strict, even-handed, perfect justice. "Eye for eye, tooth for
tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, burning for burning, wound for
wound, stripe for stripe." Such was the character of the laws, the
statutes, and the judgments by which God governed His earthly kingdom
of Israel. Everything was provided for, every interest was maintained,
and every claim was met. There was no partiality--no distinction made
between the rich and the poor. The balance in which each man's claim
was weighed was adjusted with divine accuracy, so that no one could
justly complain of a decision. The pure robe of justice was not to be
tarnished with the foul stains of bribery, corruption, and partiality.
The eye and the hand of a divine Legislator provided for everything,
and a divine Executive inflexibly dealt with every defaulter. The
stroke of justice fell only on the head of the guilty, while every
obedient soul was protected in the enjoyment of all his rights and
privileges.
Then, as regards man, it is impossible to read over these laws and not
be struck with the disclosure which they indirectly, but really, make
of his desperate depravity. The fact of Jehovah's having to enact laws
against certain crimes, proves the capability on man's part of
committing those crimes. Were the capability and the tendency not
there, there would be no need of the enactments. Now there are many
who, if the gross abominations forbidden in these chapters were named
to them, might feel disposed to adopt the language of Hazael, and say,
"Is thy servant a dog that he should do this thing?" Such persons have
not yet traveled down into the deep abyss of their own hearts. For
albeit there are crimes here forbidden which would seem to place man,
as regards his habits and tendencies, below the level of a "dog," yet
do those very statutes prove, beyond all question, that the most
refined and cultivated member of the human family carries about in
his bosom the seeds of the very darkest and most horrifying
abominations. For whom were those statutes enacted? For man. Were they
needful? Unquestionably. But they would have been quite superfluous if
man were incapable of committing the sins referred to. But man _is_
capable; and hence we see that man is sunk to the very lowest possible
level--that his nature is wholly corrupt--that from the crown of his
head to the sole of his foot there is not so much as a speck of moral
soundness.
How can such a being ever stand, without an emotion of fear, in the
full blaze of the throne of God? how can he stand within the holiest?
how can he stand on the sea of glass? how can he enter in by the
pearly gates and tread the golden streets? The reply to these
inquiries unfolds the amazing depths of redeeming love and the eternal
efficacy of the blood of the Lamb. Deep as is man's ruin, the love of
God is deeper still: black as is his guilt, the blood of Jesus can
wash it all away: wide as is the chasm separating man from God, the
cross has bridged it. God has come down to the very lowest point of
the sinner's condition, in order that He might lift him up into a
position of infinite favor, in eternal association with His own Son.
Well may we exclaim, "Behold, what manner of love the Father hath
bestowed upon us, that we should be called the sons of God." (1 John
iii. 1.) Nothing could fathom man's ruin but God's love, and nothing
could equal man's guilt but the blood of Christ. But now the very
depth of the ruin only magnifies the love that has fathomed it, and
the intensity of the guilt only celebrates the efficacy of the blood
that can cleanse it. The very vilest sinner who believes in Jesus can
rejoice in the assurance that God sees him and pronounces him "_clean
every whit_."
Such, then, is the double character of instruction to be gleaned from
the laws and ordinances in this section, looked at as a whole; and the
more minutely we look at them in detail, the more impressed we shall
be with a sense of their fullness and beauty. Take, for instance, the
very first ordinance that presents itself, namely, that of the Hebrew
servant.
"Now these are the judgments which thou shalt set before them: If thou
buy a Hebrew servant, six years he shall serve, and in the seventh he
shall go out free for nothing. If he came in by himself, he shall go
out by himself: if he were married, then his wife shall go out with
him. If his master have given him a wife, and she have borne him sons
or daughters, the wife and her children shall be her master's, and he
shall go out by himself. And if the servant shall plainly say, I love
my master, my wife, and my children; I will not go out free; then his
master shall bring him unto the judges: he shall also bring him to the
door, or unto the door-post; and his master shall bore his ear through
with an awl; and he shall serve him forever." (Chap. xxi. 1-6.) The
servant was perfectly free to go out, so far as he was personally
concerned. He had discharged every claim, and could therefore walk
abroad in unquestioned freedom; but because of his love to his master,
his wife, and his children, he voluntarily bound himself to perpetual
servitude; and not only so, but he was also willing to bear, in his
own person, the marks of that servitude.
The application of this to the Lord Jesus Christ will be obvious to
the intelligent reader. In Him we behold the One who dwelt in the
bosom of the Father before all worlds--the object of His eternal
delight--who might have occupied, throughout eternity, this His
personal and entirely peculiar place, inasmuch as there lay upon Him
no obligation (save that which ineffable love created and ineffable
love incurred) to abandon that place. Such, however, was His love to
the Father, whose counsels were involved, and for the Church
collectively and each individual member thereof, whose salvation was
involved, that He voluntarily came down to earth, emptied Himself, and
made Himself of no reputation, took upon Him the form of a servant and
the marks of perpetual service. To these marks we probably have a
striking allusion in the Psalms.--"Mine ears hast Thou digged." (Ps.
xl. 6, marg.) This psalm is the expression of Christ's devotedness to
God. "Then said I, 'Lo, I come: in the volume of the book it is
written of Me, I delight to do Thy will, O My God; yea, Thy law is
within My heart.'" He came to do the will of God, whatever that will
might be. He never once did His own will, not even in the reception
and salvation of sinners, though surely His loving heart, with all its
affections, was most fully in that glorious work. Still He receives
and saves only as the servant of the Father's counsels. "All that the
Father giveth Me shall come to Me; and him that cometh to Me I will in
no wise cast out. For I came down from heaven, not to do Mine own
will, but the will of Him that sent Me. 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." (John vi.
37-39.)
Here we have a most interesting view of the servant-character of the
Lord Jesus Christ. He, in perfect grace, holds Himself responsible to
receive all who come within the range of the divine counsels; and not
only to receive them, but to preserve them through all the
difficulties and trials of their devious path down here,--yea, in the
article of death itself, should it come, and to raise them all up in
the last day. Oh, how secure is the very feeblest member of the Church
of God! He is the subject of God's eternal counsels, which counsels
the Lord Jesus Christ is pledged to carry out. Jesus loves the Father,
and in proportion to the intensity of that love is the security of
each member of the redeemed family. The salvation of the sinner who
believes on the name of the Son of God is, in one aspect of it, but
the expression of Christ's love to the Father. If one such could
perish, through any cause whatsoever, it would argue that the Lord
Jesus Christ was unable to carry out the will of God, which were
nothing short of positive blasphemy against His sacred name, to whom
be all honor and majesty throughout the everlasting ages.
Thus we have, in the Hebrew servant, a type of Christ in His pure
devotedness to the Father. But there is more than this. "I love my
wife and my children." "Christ loved the Church, and gave Himself for
it; that He might sanctify and cleanse it with the washing of water by
the Word, that He might present it to Himself a glorious Church, not
having spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing; but that it should be holy
and without blemish." (Eph. v. 25-27.) There are various other
passages of Scripture presenting Christ as the antitype of the Hebrew
servant, both in His love for the Church as a body, and for all
believers personally. In Matthew xiii, John x and xiii, and Hebrews
ii, my reader will find special teaching on the point.
The apprehension of this love of the heart of Jesus cannot fail to
produce a spirit of fervent devotedness to the One who could exhibit
such pure, such perfect, such disinterested love. How could the wife
and children of the Hebrew servant fail to love one who had
voluntarily surrendered his liberty in order that he and they might be
together? And what is the love presented in the type, when compared
with that which shines in the antitype? It is as nothing. "The love of
Christ passeth knowledge." It led Him to think of us before all
worlds--to visit us in the fullness of time--to walk deliberately to
the door-post--to suffer for us on the cross, in order that He might
raise us to companionship with Himself in His everlasting kingdom and
glory.
Were I to enter into a full exposition of the remaining statutes and
judgments of this portion of the book of Exodus, it would carry me
much further than I feel, at present, led to go.[11] I will merely
observe, in conclusion, that it is impossible to read the section and
not have the heart drawn out in adoration of the profound wisdom,
well-balanced justice, and yet tender considerateness which breathe
throughout the whole. We rise up from the study of it with this
conviction deeply wrought into the soul, that the One who speaks here
is "the only true," "the only wise," and the infinitely gracious God.
[11] I would here observe, once for all, that the feasts referred to
in chapter xxiii. 14-19, and the offerings in chapter xxix, being
brought out, in all their fullness and detail, in the book of
Leviticus, I shall reserve them until we come to dwell upon the
contents of that singularly rich and interesting book.
May all our meditations on His eternal Word have the effect of
prostrating our souls in worship before Him whose perfect ways and
glorious attributes shine there, in all their blessedness and
brightness, for the refreshment, the delight, and the edification of
His blood-bought people.