Israelites. He is our Prophet, as well as our Redeemer. None was so
favoured as Moses in this respect: before Christ came, Moses alone saw
God face to face; all prophets after him but heard His voice or saw Him
in vision. Samuel was called by name, but he knew not who called him in
the dark night till Eli told him. Isaiah saw the vision of the Seraphim,
and heard them cry "Holy" before the Lord; but it was not heaven that he
saw, but the mere semblance of the earthly temple in which God dwelt
among the Jews, and clouds filled it. But Moses in some sense saw God
and lived; thus God honoured him. "If there be a prophet among you,"
said Almighty God, "I the Lord will make Myself known unto him in a
vision, and will speak unto him in a dream. My servant Moses is not so,
who is faithful in all Mine house. With him will I speak mouth to mouth,
even apparently, and not in dark speeches, and the similitude of the Lord
shall he behold[2]:" and on his death we are told, "there arose not a
prophet since in Israel like unto Moses, whom the Lord knew face to
face[3]." When he was in the Mount Sinai it is said of him still more
expressly, "The Lord spake unto Moses face to face, as a man speaketh
unto his friend[4]." In the Mount he received from God the revelation of
the Law, and the patterns of the holy services which the Jews were to
offer to God; and so, being favoured with the intimate knowledge of God's
counsels, when he came down, his face shone with glory. The Divine
majesty was reflected from it, and the people dared not look upon him.
"The skin of his face shone while he talked with Him. And when Aaron and
the children of Israel saw Moses, they were afraid to come nigh him."
"And till he had done speaking with them, he put a veil on his face[5]."
Yet, after all, favoured as he was, Moses saw not the true presence of
God. Flesh and blood cannot see it. Even when Moses was in the Mount,
he was aware that the very fulness of God's glory then revealed to him,
was after all but the surface of His infinitude. The more he saw, the
deeper and wider did he know that to be which he saw not. He prayed, "If
I have found grace in Thy sight, show me now Thy way, that I may know
Thee, that I may find grace in Thy sight; and God said, My Presence shall
go with thee, and I will give thee rest[6]." Moses was encouraged to ask
for further blessings, he said, "I beseech Thee, show me Thy glory."
This could not be granted, "Thou canst not see My face; for there shall
no man see Me, and live." So, as the greatest privilege which he might
attain, Moses was permitted to see the skirts of God's greatness--"The
Lord passed by in a cloud, and proclaimed the Name of the Lord; and Moses
made haste and bowed his head toward the earth, and worshipped[7]." And
it was this sight of the mere apparel in which God Almighty was arrayed,
which made his face to shine.
But Christ really saw, and ever saw, the face of God, for He was no
creature of God, but the Only-begotten Son, who is in the bosom of the
Father. From eternity He was with Him in glory, as He says Himself,
dwelling in the abyss of the infinite greatness of the Most High. Not
for forty days, as Moses on the mount in figure, but for ever and ever
was He present as the Counsellor of God, as His Word, in whom He
delighted. Such was He of old, but at the time appointed He came forth
from the Father, and showed Himself in this external world, first as its
Creator, then as its Teacher, the Revealer of secrets, the Mediator, the
Off-streaming of God's glory, and the Express Image of His Person. Cloud
nor image, emblem nor words, are interposed between the Son and His
Eternal Father. No language is needed between the Father and Him, who is
the very Word of the Father; no knowledge is imparted to Him, who by His
very Nature and from eternity knows the Father, and all that the Father
knows. Such are His own words, "No man knoweth the Son but the Father,
neither knoweth any man the Father save the Son, and he to whomsoever the
Son will reveal Him[8]." Again He says, "He that hath seen Me hath seen
the Father[9];" and He accounts for this when He tells us, that He and
the Father are one[10]; and that He is in the bosom of the Father, and so
can disclose Him to mankind, being still in heaven, even while He was on
earth.
Accordingly, the Blessed Apostle draws a contrast between Moses and
Christ to our comfort; "the Law," he says, "was given by Moses, but grace
and truth came by Jesus Christ[11]." In Him God is fully and truly seen,
so that He is absolutely the Way, and the Truth, and the Life. All our
duties are summed up for us in the message He brings us. Those who look
towards Him for teaching, who worship and obey Him, will by degrees see
"the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in His face," and will be
"changed into the same image from glory to glory." And thus it happens
that men of the lowest class and the humblest education may know fully
the ways and works of God; fully, that is, as man can know them; far
better and more truly than the most sagacious man of this world, to whom
the Gospel is hid. Religion has a store of wonderful secrets which no
one can communicate to another, and which are most pleasant and
delightful to know. "Call on Me," says God by the prophet, "and I will
answer thee, and show thee great and mighty things which thou knowest not
of." This is no mere idle boast, but a fact which all who seek God will
find to be true, though they cannot perhaps clearly express their
meaning. Strange truths about ourselves, about God, about our duty,
about the world, about heaven and hell, new modes of viewing things,
discoveries which cannot be put into words, marvellous prospects and
thoughts half understood, deep convictions inspiring joy and peace, these
are a part of the revelation which Christ, the Son of God, brings to
those who obey Him. Moses had much toil to gain from the great God some
scattered rays of the truth, and that for his personal comfort, not for
all Israel; but Christ has brought from His Father for all of us the full
and perfect way of life. Thus He brings grace as well as truth, a most
surprising miracle of mercy from the freeness of the gift, as well as a
true wisdom from its fulness.
And yet, alas! in spite of all this bounty, men called Christians, and
how many! live heartlessly, not caring for the gracious benefit. Look at
the world. Men begin life with sinning; they quench the early promise of
grace, and defile their souls; they block up the entrances of the
spiritual senses by acts of sin, lying and deceit, intemperance,
profaneness, or uncleanness,--by a foolish and trifling turn of mind,--by
neglect of prayer when there is no actual vice,--or by an obstinate
selfishness. How many are the ways in which men begin to lose sight of
God!--how many are the fallings away of those who once began well! And
then they soon forget that they have really left God; they still think
they see His face, though their sins have begun to blind them. Like men
who fall asleep, the real prospect still flits before them in their
dreams, but out of shape and proportion, discoloured, crowded with all
manner of fancies and untruths; and so they proceed in that dream of sin,
more or less profound,--sometimes rousing, then turning back again for a
little more slumber, till death awakens them. Death alone gives lively
perceptions to the generality of men, who then see the very truth, such
as they saw it before they began to sin, but more clear and more fearful:
but they who are the pure in heart, like Joseph; or the meek among men,
like Moses; or faithful found among the faithless, as Daniel; these men
see God all through life in the face of His Eternal Son; and, while the
world mocks them, or tries to reason them out of their own real
knowledge, they are like Moses on the mount, blessed and hidden,--"hid
with Christ in God," beyond the tumult and idols of the world, and
interceding for it.
3. This leads me to mention a third point of resemblance between Moses
and Christ. Moses was the great intercessor when the Israelites sinned:
while he was in the mount, his people corrupted themselves; they set up
an idol, and honoured it with feasting and dancing. Then God would have
cut them off from the land of promise, had not Moses interposed. He
said, "Lord, why doth Thy wrath wax hot against Thy people? Turn from
Thy fierce wrath, and repent of this evil against Thy people[12]." In
this way he gained a respite, and then he renewed his supplications. He
said to the people, "Ye have sinned a great sin; but now I will go up
unto the Lord: peradventure I shall make an atonement for your sin."
Then he said to their offended Creator, "Oh, this people have sinned a
great sin, and have made them gods of gold. Yet now, if Thou wilt,
forgive their sin."
Here Moses, as is obvious, shadows out the true Mediator between God and
man, who is ever at the right hand of God making intercession, for us;
but the parallel is closer still than appears at first sight. After
Moses had said, "If Thou wilt, forgive their sin," he added, "and if not,
blot me, I pray Thee, out of Thy book, which Thou hast written." He was
taken at his word. Observe, rather than Israel should forfeit the
promised land, he here offered to give up his own portion in it, and the
exchange was accepted. He was excluded, dying in sight, not in enjoyment
of Canaan, while the people went in under Joshua. This was a figure of
Him that was to come. Our Saviour Christ died, that we might live: He
consented to lose the light of God's countenance, that we might gain it.
By His cross and passion, He made atonement for our sins, and bought for
us the forgiveness of God. Yet, on the other hand, observe how this
history instructs us, at the same time, in the unspeakable distance
between Christ and Moses. When Moses said, "Blot me, I pray Thee, out of
Thy book," God did not promise to accept the exchange, but He answered,
"Whosover hath sinned against Me, him will I blot out of My book." Moses
was not taken instead of Israel, except in figure. In spite of Moses,
the sinful people were plagued and died[13], though their children
entered the promised land. And again, Moses, after all, suffered for his
own sin. True, he was shut out from Canaan. But why? Not in spite of
his having "done nothing amiss," as the Divine Sufferer on the cross, but
because he spake unadvisedly with his lips, when the people provoked him
with their murmurings. The meek Moses was provoked to call them rebels,
and seemed to arrogate to himself the power and authority which he
received from God; and therefore he was punished by dying in the
wilderness. But Christ was the spotless Lamb of God, "who, when He was
reviled, reviled not again; when He suffered, He threatened not, but
committed Himself to Him that judgeth righteously." And His death is
meritorious; it has really gained our pardon.
Moreover, it is well to observe now apparently slight a fault it was for
which Moses suffered; for this shows us the infinite difference between
the best of a sinful race and Him who was sinless,--the least taint of
human corruption having in it an unspeakable evil. Moses was the meekest
of men, yet it was for one sudden transgression of the rule of meekness
that he suffered, all his former gentleness, all his habitual humbleness
of mind, availed him nothing. It was unprofitable, and without merit,
because it was merely his duty. It could not make up for a single sin,
however slight. Thus we see how it would be with us if God were extreme
to mark what is done amiss: and thus, on the other hand, we see how
supremely holy and pure that Saviour must be whose intercession is
meritorious, who has removed from us God's anger. None can bring us to
Him but He who came from Him. He reveals God, and He cleanses man. The
same is our Prophet and our Priest.
We are now approaching the season when we commemorate His death upon the
cross: we are entering upon the most holy season of the whole year. May
we approach it with holy hearts! May we renew our resolutions of leading
a life of obedience to His commandments, and may we have the grace to
seal our good resolutions at His most sacred Supper, in which "Jesus
Christ is evidently set forth crucified among us." It is useless to make
resolves without coming to Him for aid to keep them; and it is useless
coming to His table without earnest and hearty resolves; it is provoking
God "to plague us with divers diseases, and sundry kinds of death." But
what shall be said of those who do neither the one nor the other,--who
neither vow obedience, nor come to Him for grace?--who sin deliberately
after they have known the truth--who review their sins in time past in a
reckless hard-hearted way, or put them aside out of their thoughts--who
can bear to jest about them, to speak of them to others unblushingly, or
even to boast of them, and to determine on sinning again,--who think of
repenting at some future day, and resolve on going their own way now,
trusting to chance for reconciliation with God, as if it were not a
matter to be very anxious about? This state of mind brings upon man a
judgment heavier than all the plagues of Egypt,--a judgment compared with
which that darkness which could be felt is as the sun's brightness, and
the thunders and hail are as the serene sky,--the wrath to come.
Awake, then, my brethren, with this season, to meet your God, who now
summons you from His cross and tomb. Put aside the sin that doth so
easily beset you, and be ye holy even as He is holy. Stand ready to
suffer with Him, should it be needful, that you may rise together with
Him. He can make bitter things sweet to you, and hard ways easy, if you
have but the heart to desire Him to do so. He can change the Law into
the Gospel. He can, for Moses, give you Himself. He can write the Law
on your hearts, and thereby take away the hand-writing that is against
you, even the old curse which by nature you inherit. He has done this
for many in time past. He does it for many at all times. Why should He
not do it for you? Why should you be left out? Why should you not enter
into His rest? Why should you not see His glory? O, why should you be
blotted out from His book?
[1] Lent.
[2] Numb. xii. 6-8.
[3] Deut. xxxiv. 10.
[4] Exod. xxxiii. 11.
[5] Exod. xxxiv. 29, 30, 33.
[6] Exod. xxxiii. 13, 14.
[7] Exod. xxxiv. 6, 8.
[8] Matt. xi. 27.
[9] John xiv. 9.
[10] John x. 30.
[11] John i. 17.
[12] Exod. xxxii. 11.
[13] Vide Exod. xxxii. 34.
SERMON X.
The Crucifixion.
"_He was oppressed, and He was afflicted, yet He opened not His mouth;
He is brought as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her
shearers is dumb, so He openeth not His mouth._"--Isaiah liii. 7.
St. Peter makes it almost a description of a Christian, that he loves
Him whom he has not seen; speaking of Christ, he says, "whom having not
seen, ye love; in whom, though now ye see Him not, yet believing, ye
rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory." Again he speaks of
"tasting that the Lord is gracious[1]." Unless we have a true love of
Christ, we are not His true disciples; and we cannot love Him unless we
have heartfelt gratitude to Him; and we cannot duly feel gratitude,
unless we feel keenly what He suffered for us. I say it seems to us
impossible, under the circumstances of the case, that any one can have
attained to the love of Christ, who feels no distress, no misery, at
the thought of His bitter pains, find no self-reproach at having
through his own sins had a share in causing them.
I know quite well, and wish you, my brethren, never to forget, that
feeling is not enough; that it is not enough merely to feel and nothing
more; that to feel grief for Christ's sufferings, and yet not to go on
to obey Him, is not true love, but a mockery. True love both feels
right, and acts right; but at the same time as warm feelings without
religious conduct are a kind of hypocrisy, so, on the other hand, right
conduct, when unattended with deep feelings, is at best a very
imperfect sort of religion. And at this time of year[2] especially are
we called upon to raise our hearts to Christ, and to have keen feelings
and piercing thoughts of sorrow and shame, of compunction and of
gratitude, of love and tender affection and horror and anguish, at the
review of those awful sufferings whereby our salvation has been
purchased.
Let us pray God to give us _all_ graces; and while, in the first place,
we pray that He would make us holy, really holy, let us also pray Him
to give us the _beauty_ of holiness, which consists in tender and eager
affection towards our Lord and Saviour: which is, in the case of the
Christian, what beauty of person is to the outward man, so that through
God's mercy our souls may have, not strength and health only, but a
sort of bloom and comeliness; and that as we grow older in body, we
may, year by year, grow more youthful in spirit.
You will ask, how are we to learn to feel pain and anguish at the
thought of Christ's sufferings? I answer, _by_ thinking of them, that
is, by _dwelling_ on the thought. This, through God's mercy, is in the
power of every one. No one who will but solemnly think over the
history of those sufferings, as drawn out for us in the Gospels, but
will gradually gain, through God's grace, a sense of them, will in a
measure realize them, will in a measure be as if he saw them, will feel
towards them as being not merely a tale written in a book, but as a
true history, as a series of events which took place. It is indeed a
great mercy that this duty which I speak of, though so high, is
notwithstanding so level with the powers of all classes of persons,
learned and unlearned, if they wish to perform it. Any one can think
of Christ's sufferings, if he will; and knows well what to think about.
"It is not in heaven that thou shouldst say, Who shall go up for us to
heaven and bring it to us, that we may hear it and do it? Neither is
it beyond the sea that thou shouldst say, Who shall go over the sea for
us? . . . but the word is very nigh unto thee;" very nigh, for it is in
the four Gospels, which, at this day at least, are open to all men.
All men may read or hear the Gospels, and in knowing them, they will
know all that is necessary to be known in order to feel aright; they
will know all that any one knows, all that has been told us, all that
the greatest saints have ever had to make them full of love and sacred
fear.
Now, then, let me make one or two reflections by way of stirring up
your hearts and making you mourn over Christ's sufferings, as you are
called to do at this season.
1. First, as to these sufferings you will observe that our Lord is
called a lamb in the text; that is, He was as defenceless, and as
innocent, as a lamb is. Since then Scripture compares Him to this
inoffensive and unprotected animal, we may without presumption or
irreverence take the image as a means of conveying to our minds those
feelings which our Lord's sufferings should excite in us. I mean,
consider how very horrible it is to read the accounts which sometimes
meet us of cruelties exercised on brute animals. Does it not sometimes
make us shudder to hear tell of them, or to read them in some chance
publication which we take up? At one time it is the wanton deed of
barbarous and angry owners who ill-treat their cattle, or beasts of
burden; and at another, it is the cold-blooded and calculating act of
men of science, who make experiments on brute animals, perhaps merely
from a sort of curiosity. I do not like to go into particulars, for
many reasons; but one of those instances which we read of as happening
in this day, and which seems more shocking than the rest, is, when the
poor dumb victim is fastened against a wall, pierced, gashed, and so
left to linger out its life. Now do you not see that I have a reason
for saying this, and am not using these distressing words for nothing?
For what was this but the very cruelty inflicted upon our Lord? He was
gashed with the scourge, pierced through hands and feet, and so
fastened to the Cross, and there left, and that as a spectacle. Now
what is it moves our very hearts, and sickens us so much at cruelty
shown to poor brutes? I suppose this first, that they have done no
harm; next, that they have no power whatever of resistance; it is the
cowardice and tyranny of which they are the victims which makes their
sufferings so especially touching. For instance, if they were
dangerous animals, take the case of wild beasts at large, able not only
to defend themselves, but even to attack us; much as we might dislike
to hear of their wounds and agony, yet our feelings would be of a very
different kind; but there is something so very dreadful, so satanic in
tormenting those who never have harmed us, and who cannot defend
themselves, who are utterly in our power, who have weapons neither of
offence nor defence, that none but very hardened persons can endure the
thought of it. Now this was just our Saviour's case: He had laid aside
His glory, He had (as it were) disbanded His legions of Angels, He came
on earth without arms, except the arms of truth, meekness, and
righteousness, and committed Himself to the world in perfect innocence
and sinlessness, and in utter helplessness, as the Lamb of God. In the
words of St. Peter, "Who did no sin, neither was guile found in His
mouth; who, when He was reviled, reviled not again; when He suffered,
He threatened not; but committed Himself to Him that judgeth
righteously[3]." Think then, my brethren, of your feelings at cruelty
practised upon brute animals, and you will gain one sort of feeling
which the history of Christ's Cross and Passion ought to excite within
you. And let me add, this is in all cases one good use to which you
may turn any accounts you read of wanton and unfeeling acts shown
towards the inferior animals, let them remind you, as a picture, of
Christ's sufferings. He who is higher than the Angels, deigned to
humble Himself even to the state of the brute creation, as the Psalm
says, "I am a worm, and no man; a very scorn of men, and the outcast of
the people[4]."
2. Take another example, and you will see the same thing still more
strikingly. How overpowered should we be, nay not at the sight only,
but at the very hearing of cruelties shown to a little child, and why
so? for the same two reasons, because it was so innocent, and because
it was so unable to defend itself. I do not like to go into the
details of such cruelty, they would be so heart-rending. What if
wicked men took and crucified a young child? What if they deliberately
seized its poor little frame, and stretched out its arms, nailed them
to a cross bar of wood, drove a stake through its two feet, and
fastened them to a beam, and so left it to die? It is almost too
shocking to say; perhaps, you will actually say it _is_ too shocking,
and ought not to be said. O, my brethren, you feel the horror of this,
and yet you can bear to read of Christ's sufferings without horror; for
what is that little child's agony to His? and which deserved it more?
which is the more innocent? which the holier? was He not gentler,
sweeter, meeker, more tender, more loving, than any little child? Why
are you shocked at the one, why are you not shocked at the other?