PREFACE.
To all who love and relish the simple gospel of the grace of God, I
would earnestly recommend the following "Notes on the Book of Genesis."
They are characterized by a deep-toned evangelical spirit. Having had
the privilege of reading them in MS., I can speak as one who has found
profit therefrom. Man's complete ruin in sin, and God's perfect remedy
in Christ, are fully, clearly, and often strikingly, presented,
especially in the earlier chapters.
To Christ's servants in the gospel sound, forcible statements as to
what _sin_ is and what _grace_ is, are deeply valuable in the present
time, when so much that is merely superficial is abroad.
The gospel of Christ, as perfectly meeting man's nature, condition, and
character, is comparatively little known, and less proclaimed. Hence,
the numerous doubts, fears, and unsettled questions which fill the
hearts and perplex the consciences of many of God's dear children.
Until the soul is led to see that the entire question of sin and the
claims of divine holiness were _all and forever settled_ on the
cross, sweet, quiet rest of conscience will be but little known.
Nothing can meet the urgent cry of a troubled conscience but the one
perfect sacrifice of Christ; offered _to_ God _for us_, on the cross.
"For even Christ _our_ passover is sacrificed _for us_." There, and
there alone it will find a _perfect answer_ to its every claim; because
there it will find, through believing, all ground of doubt and fear
removed, the whole question of sin eternally settled, every divine
requirement fully met, and a solid foundation laid for present, settled
peace, in the presence of divine holiness: Christ "delivered for our
offences, and raised again for our justification," settles every thing.
The moment we believe the gospel, we are saved, and ought to be
divinely happy. "He that believeth on the Son _hath_ everlasting life."
(Rom. iv. v.; John iii.)
We see the greatness of God's love to the sinner in his judgment of
sin in the person of his own dear Son on the cross. There God, in
perfect grace to us, dealt with sin according to his infinite holiness
and justice. He went down to the depths of our ruin and all our sin,
measured it, judged it, and put it forever away, _root_ and _branch_,
by shedding the precious blood of the spotless Victim. "He condemned
sin in the flesh;" that is, he there condemned the evil root of sin
which is in our flesh,--our carnal nature. But he also "made an end of
sins,"--of the actual sins of every believer. Thus, between God and
Christ alone the entire question of sin was gone into, and finally
settled on the cross. "Simon Peter said unto him, Lord whither goest
thou? Jesus answered him, Whither I go _thou canst not follow me now_."
Just as Abraham and Isaac were alone on the top of the mountain in the
land of Moriah, so were God and Christ alone, amidst the solemnities
and solitudes of Calvary. The only part we had in the cross was, that
our _sins_ were there. Jesus _alone_ bore the full weight of their
judgment. (Comp. Dan. ix. 24; Rom. viii. 3; 2 Cor. v. 21; Heb. ix. 26,
28.)
Whenever this blessed truth is learnt from God's own word, and
maintained in the soul by faith, through the power of the Holy Ghost,
all is peace, joy, and victory. It takes the believer completely away
from himself, from his doubts, fears, and questions. And his eye now
gazes on ONE who, by his finished work, has laid the foundation of
divine and everlasting righteousness, and who is now at the right hand
of the Majesty in the highest, as the perfect definition of every true
believer. With him, with him alone, the believer's heart is now to be
occupied.
Faith is fully assured that when _God_ puts away sin, it must be put
away entirely; that, when Jesus exclaimed, "IT IS FINISHED," the work
was done,--God was glorified, the sinner saved, the whole power of
Satan completely destroyed, and peace established on the most solid
basis. Hence, we find, "The God of _peace_ brought again from the dead
our Lord Jesus, that great Shepherd of the sheep, through the blood of
the everlasting covenant." He was the God of _judgment_ at the cross.
He is the God of _peace_ at the opening grave. Every enemy has been
vanquished, and eternal peace proclaimed, through the blood of his
cross. "He was raised up from the dead by the glory of the Father." He
rose "in the power of an endless life," and associates every believer
with himself, in the power of that life in resurrection. Having been
cleansed by his blood, they are accepted in his person. (See Eph. i. 6;
Col. ii. 10; 1 John v. 20.)
Jesus, having thus fully accomplished the work that was given him to
do, and gone up on high, the Holy Ghost came down as a witness to us
that redemption was finished, the believer "perfected forever" and
Christ glorified in heaven.
The apostles then began to publish the glad tidings of salvation to the
chief of sinners. The subject of their preaching was, "_Jesus and the
resurrection_." And all who believed on him as risen and glorified were
immediately and eternally saved. "And this is the record that God hath
given to us eternal life, and this life is in his Son: he that hath the
Son hath life, and he that hath not the Son of God hath not life." (1
John v. 11, 12.) There is no blessing outside of, or apart from, the
PERSON OF CHRIST--THE HEAVENLY MAN; "for in him dwelleth all the
fulness of the Godhead bodily." Ever since that time, God has been
placing before the sinner, in connection with _his_ gospel, a risen
living Christ, as the ALONE object of faith, and "the end of the law
for righteousness to EVERY ONE THAT BELIEVETH." (Rom. X.)
When the eye is kept on this heavenly Christ, all is light, joy, and
peace; but if it be turned in on self, and occupied with what it
_finds_ there, and what it _feels_, or with any thing whatever that may
come between the heart and Christ, all will be darkness, uncertainty,
and unhappiness in the soul. Oh, how blessedly simple is the gospel of
the grace of God!
The burden of its message to the _lost sinner_ is, "Come, for all
things are now ready;" the question of sin is not raised,--"_Grace
reigns_ through righteousness unto eternal life by Jesus Christ our
Lord." Christ, having perfectly satisfied God about sin, the only
question now between God and your heart is this: _Are you perfectly
satisfied with his Christ as the alone portion of your soul?_ This is
the one grand question of the gospel. Christ has settled every other to
the glory of God; and now the Father is going to "make a marriage for
his Son,"--to honor, exalt, and glorify him. Is your heart in full
harmony with God's on this point? Work is not required at your hands;
strength is not needed; fruit is not demanded. God has provided every
thing, and prepared every thing. It is all grace,--the pure grace of
God. "Only believe;" "Come, for all things are now ready." The
marriage-supper; the wedding-garment, royal honors, the Father's
presence, fulness of joy, and pleasures for evermore--all are
ready,--ready now--"ready to be revealed." Dear reader, are you ready?
Oh, solemn question! Are you ready? Have you believed the message? Have
you embraced the Son? Are you ready to "Crown him Lord of all?" The
table is spread, the house is filling fast: "yet there is room."
Already you have heard the midnight cry, "Behold the bridegroom
cometh, go ye out to meet him," "and they that were READY went in _with
him_ to the marriage, AND THE DOOR WAS SHUT." "Be ye therefore ready
also: for the Son of man cometh at an hour when ye think not." (Matt.
xxii., xxv.; Luke xii., xiv.)
* * * * *
But I must now refer my reader to the "Notes" themselves, where he will
find this most blessed subject fully, frequently, and pointedly stated,
and many other subjects of deep practical importance; such as the
distinctive position and perfect unity of the Church of God; real
saintship; practical discipleship; sonship; &c., &c.
With the exception of the four gospels, I suppose there is no book in
the Bible more deeply interesting than the Book of Genesis. It comes to
us with all the freshness of God's first book to his people. The
contents are varied, highly instructive, and most precious to the
student of God's entire book.
These "Notes" are again laid at the Master's feet in earnest prayer
that he would take them up and send them forth under the stamp of his
own divine approval. Amen.
A.M.
_London._
PREFATORY NOTE TO THE FOURTH EDITION.
I cannot suffer this Fourth Edition to go forth without an expression
of heartfelt thankfulness to the Lord for his goodness in making use of
such a feeble instrumentality for the profit of souls and the spread of
his own simple truth.
It is an unspeakable privilege to be permitted in any small degree to
minister to the souls of those who are so precious to Christ. "Lovest
thou me?... Feed my sheep." Such were the touching words of the
departing Shepherd; and, assuredly, when they fall powerfully upon the
heart, they must rouse all the energies of one's moral being to carry
out, in every possible way, the gracious desire breathed therein. To
gather and to feed the lambs and sheep of the flock of Christ are the
most exalted services in which any one can be engaged. Not a single
honest effort put forth for the achievement of such noble ends will be
forgotten in that day "when the Chief Shepherd shall appear."
May God the Holy Ghost fill the heart, anoint the lips, and consecrate
the pen of every servant of Christ, so that streams of pure and living
truth may flow in every direction for the refreshment of all those who
are on their way to glory.
C.H.M.
_Dublin, May, 1861._
NOTES
ON
THE BOOK OF GENESIS.
CHAPTER I.
There is something peculiarly striking in the manner in which the Holy
Ghost opens this sublime book. He introduces us, at once, to God, in
the essential fulness of his being, and the solitariness of his acting.
All prefatory matter is omitted. It is to God we are brought. We hear
him, as it were, breaking earth's silence, and shining in upon earth's
darkness, for the purpose of developing a sphere in which he might
display his eternal power and Godhead.
There is nothing here on which idle curiosity may feed,--nothing on
which the poor human mind may speculate. There is the sublimity and
reality of DIVINE TRUTH, in its moral power to act on the heart, and on
the understanding. It could never come within the range of the Spirit
of God to gratify idle curiosity by the presentation of curious
theories. Geologists may explore the bowels of the earth, and draw
forth from thence materials from which to add to, and, in some
instances, to contradict, the Divine record. They may speculate upon
fossil remains; but the disciple hangs, with sacred delight, over the
page of inspiration. He reads, believes, and worships. In this spirit
may we pursue our study of the profound book which now lies open before
us. May we know what it is to "inquire in the temple." May our
investigations of the precious contents of holy scripture be ever
prosecuted in the true spirit of worship.
"In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth." The first
sentence in the divine canon sets us in the presence of him who is the
infinite source of all true blessedness. There is no elaborate argument
in proof of the existence of God. The Holy Ghost could not enter upon
any thing of the kind. God reveals himself. He makes himself known by
his works. "The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament
showeth his handy-work." "All thy works shall praise thee, O Lord."
"Great and marvellous are thy works, Lord God Almighty." None but an
infidel or an atheist would seek an argument in proof of the Being of
One who, by the word of his mouth, called worlds into existence, and
declared himself the All-wise, the Almighty, and the everlasting God.
Who but "God" could "create" any thing. "Lift up your eyes on high, and
behold who hath _created_ these things, that bringeth out their host by
number; he calleth them all by names, by the greatness of his might,
for that he is strong in power; not one faileth." (Is. xl. 26.) "The
gods of the heathen are idols, but the Lord made the heavens." In the
Book of Job (chap. xxxviii.-xli.) we have an appeal of the very
grandest description, on the part of Jehovah himself, to the work of
creation, as an unanswerable argument in proof of his infinite
superiority; and this appeal, while it sets before the understanding
the most vivid and convincing demonstration of God's omnipotence,
touches the heart, also, by its amazing condescension. The majesty and
the love, the power and the tenderness, are all divine.
"And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the
face of the deep." Here was, in good truth, a scene in which God alone
could act. Man, in the pride of his heart, has since proved himself but
too ready to interfere with God in other and far higher spheres of
action; but, in the scene before us, man had no place until, indeed, he
became, like all the rest, the subject of creative power. God was alone
in creation. He looked forth from his eternal dwelling-place of light
upon the wild waste, and there beheld the sphere in which his wondrous
plans and counsels were yet to be unfolded and brought out--where the
Second Person of the Eternal Trinity was yet to live, and labor, and
testify, and bleed, and die, in order to display, in the view of
wondering worlds, the glorious perfections of the Godhead. All was
darkness and chaos; but God is the God of light and order. "God is
light, and in him is no darkness at all." Darkness and confusion cannot
live in his presence, whether we look at it in a physical, moral,
intellectual, or spiritual point of view.
"The Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters." He sat brooding
over the scene of his future operations. A dark scene, truly; and one
in which there was ample room for the God of light and life to act. He
alone could enlighten the darkness, cause life to spring up, substitute
order for chaos, open an expanse between the waters, where life might
display itself without fear of death. These were operations worthy of
God.
"God said, Let there be light: and there was light." How simple! And
yet how Godlike! "He spake, and it was done. He commanded, and it stood
fast." Infidelity may ask, "How? where? when?" The answer is, "By faith
we understand that the worlds were framed by the word of God, so that
things which are seen were not made of things which do appear." (Heb.
xi. 3.) This satisfies the teachable spirit. Philosophy may smile
contemptuously at this, and pronounce it rude ignorance, or blind
credulity, suitable enough for an age of semi-barbarism, but quite
unworthy of men living in an enlightened age of the world's history,
when the museum and the telescope have put us in possession of facts of
which the inspired penman knew nothing. What wisdom! What learning!
Yea, rather, what folly! What nonsense! What total inability to grasp
the scope and design of sacred scripture! It, assuredly, is not God's
object to make us astronomers or geologists; or to occupy us with
details which the microscope or the telescope lays before every
school-boy. His object is to lead us into his presence, as worshippers,
with hearts and understandings taught and duly governed by his Holy
Word. But this would never do for the so-called philosopher, who,
despising what he terms the vulgar and narrow-minded prejudices of the
devout disciple of the Word, boldly seizes his telescope, and
therewith scans the distant heavens, or travels into the deep recesses
of earth in search of strata, formations and fossils,--all of which,
according to his account, greatly improve, if they do not flatly
contradict, the inspired narrative.
With such "oppositions of science falsely so called," we have nothing
to do. We believe that all true discoveries, whether "in the heavens
above, in the earth beneath, or in the waters under the earth," will
harmonize with that which is written in the word of God; and if they do
not thus harmonize, they are perfectly contemptible in the judgment of
every true lover of scripture. This gives great rest to the heart in a
day like the present, so productive of learned speculations and
high-sounding theories, which, alas! in too many instances, savor of
rationalism and positive infidelity. It is most needful to have the
heart thoroughly established as to the fulness, the authority, the
completeness, the majesty, the plenary inspiration of the sacred
volume. This will be found to be the only effectual safeguard against
the rationalism of Germany and the superstition of Rome. Accurate
acquaintance with, and profound subjection to, the Word, are the great
_desiderata_ of the present moment. May the Lord, in his great grace,
abundantly increase in our midst both the one and the other.
"And God saw the light, that it was good: and God divided the light
from the darkness. And God called the light Day, and the darkness he
called Night." Here we have the two great symbols so largely employed
throughout the Word. The presence of light makes the day; the absence
thereof makes the night. Thus it is in the history of souls. There are
"the sons of light" and "the sons of darkness." This is a most marked
and solemn distinction. All upon whom the light of Life has shone,--all
who have been effectually visited by the Day-spring from on high,--all
who have received the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the
face of Jesus Christ,--all such, whoever and wherever they may be,
belong to the first class, are "the sons of light, and the sons of the
day."
On the other hand, all who are still in nature's darkness, nature's
blindness, nature's unbelief,--all who have not yet received into their
hearts, by faith, the cheering beams of the Sun of righteousness, all
such are still wrapped in the shades of spiritual night, are "the sons
of darkness," "the sons of the night."
Reader, pause and ask yourself, in the presence of the Searcher of
hearts, to which of these two classes do you, at this moment, belong.
That you belong to either the one or the other is beyond all question.
You may be poor, despised, unlettered; but if, through grace, there is
a link connecting you with the Son of God, "the Light of the world,"
then you are, in very deed, a son of the day, and destined, ere long,
to shine in that celestial sphere, that region of glory, of which "the
slain Lamb" will be the central sun, forever. This is not your own
doing. It is the result of the counsel and operation of God himself,
who has given you light and life, joy and peace, in Jesus, and his
accomplished sacrifice. But if you are a total stranger to the hallowed
action and influence of divine light, if your eyes have not been opened
to behold any beauty in the Son of God, then, though you had all the
learning of a Newton, though you were enriched with all the treasures
of human philosophy, though you had drunk in with avidity all the
streams of human science, though your name were adorned with all the
learned titles which the schools and universities of this world could
bestow, yet are you "a son of the night," "a son of darkness;" and, if
you die in your present condition you will be involved in the blackness
and horror of an eternal night. Do not, therefore, my friend, read
another page, until you have fully satisfied yourself as to whether you
belong to the "day" or the "night."
The next point on which I would dwell is the creation of lights. "And
God said, Let there be lights in the firmament of the heaven, to divide
the day from the night; and let them be for signs, and for seasons, and
for days and years. And let them be for lights in the firmament of the
heaven, to give light upon the earth: and it was so. And God made two
great lights; the greater light to rule the day, and the lesser light
to rule the night: he made the stars also."
The sun is the great centre of light, and the centre of our system.
Round him the lesser orbs revolve. From him, too, they derive their
light. Hence, he may, very legitimately, be viewed as an apt symbol of
Him, who is soon to arise with healing in His wings, to gladden the
hearts of those that fear the Lord. The aptness and beauty of the
symbol would fully appear to one who, having spent the night in
watching, beholds the rising sun gilding, with his bright beams, the
eastern sky. The mists and shades of night are all dispersed, and the
whole creation seems to hail the returning orb of light. Thus will it
be, by and by, when the Sun of righteousness arises. The shadows of
night shall flee away, and the whole creation shall be gladdened by the
dawning of "a morning without clouds,"--the opening of a bright and
never-ending day of glory.
The moon, being in herself opaque, derives all her light from the sun.
She always reflects the sun's light, save when earth and its influences
intervene.[1] No sooner has the sun sunk beneath our horizon than the
moon presents herself to receive his beams and reflect them back upon a
dark world; or should she be visible during the day, she always
exhibits a pale light, the necessary result of appearing in the
presence of superior brightness. True it is, as has been remarked, the
world sometimes intervenes; dark clouds, thick mists, and chilling
vapors, too, arise from earth's surface, and hide from our view her
silvery light.
Now, as the sun is a beautiful and an appropriate symbol of Christ, so
the moon strikingly reminds us of the Church. The fountain of her light
is hidden from view. The world seeth him not, but she sees him; and she
is responsible to reflect his beams upon a benighted world. The world
has no other way in which to learn any thing of Christ but by the
Church. "Ye," says the inspired apostle, "are our epistle, ... known
and read of all men." And again, "Forasmuch as ye are manifestly
declared to be the epistle of Christ." (2 Cor. iii. 2, 3.)
What a responsible place! How earnestly should she watch against every
thing that would hinder the reflection of the heavenly light of Christ,
in all her ways! But how is she to reflect this light? By allowing it
to shine upon her, in its undimmed brightness. If the Church only
walked in the light of Christ, she would, assuredly, reflect his light;
and this would ever keep her in her proper position. The light of the
moon is not her own. So it is with the Church. She is not called to set
herself before the world. She is a simple debtor to reflect the light
which she herself receives. She is bound to study, with holy diligence,
the path which he trod, while down here; and by the energy of the Holy
Ghost, who dwells in her, to follow in that path. But, alas! earth with
its mists, its clouds, and its vapors, intervenes, and hides the light
and blots the epistle. The world can see but little of the traits of
Christ's character in those who call themselves by his name; yea, in
many instances they exhibit an humbling contrast, rather than a
resemblance. May we study Christ more prayerfully, that so we may copy
him more faithfully.
The stars are distant lights. They shine in other spheres, and have
little connection with this system, save that their twinkling can be
seen. "One star differeth from another star in glory." Thus will it be
in the coming kingdom of the Son. He will shine forth in living and
everlasting lustre. His body, the Church, will faithfully reflect his
beams on all around; while the saints individually shall shine in those
spheres which a righteous Judge shall allot to them, as a reward of
faithful service during the dark night of his absence. This thought
should animate us to a more ardent and vigorous pursuit after
conformity to our absent Lord. (See Luke xix. 12-19.)
The lower orders of creation are next introduced. The sea and the earth
are made to teem with life. Some may feel warranted in regarding the
operations of each successive day, as foreshadowing the various
dispensations, and their great characteristic principles of action. I
would only remark, as to this, that there is great need, when handling
the word in this way, to watch, with holy jealousy, the working of
imagination; and also to pay strict attention to the general analogy of
scripture, else we may make sad mistakes. I do not feel at liberty to
enter upon such a line of interpretation; I shall therefore confine
myself to what I believe to be the plain sense of the sacred text.
We shall now consider man's place, as set over the works of God's
hands. All having been set in order, one was needed to take the
headship. "And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our
likeness; and let _them_ have dominion over the fish of the sea, and
over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth,
and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth. So God
created man in his own image, in the image of God created he _him_:
male and female created he _them_. And God blessed them, and God said
unto them, Be fruitful and multiply, and replenish the earth, and
subdue it; and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the
fowl of the air, and over every living thing that moveth upon the
earth." My reader will observe the change from "him" to "them." We are
not presented with the actual fact of the formation of the woman, until
the next chapter; though here we find God blessing "them," and giving
"them" jointly the place of universal government. All the inferior
orders of creation were set under their joint dominion. Eve received
all her blessings in Adam. In him, too, she got her dignity. Though not
yet called into actual existence, she was, in the purpose of God,
looked at as part of the man. "In thy book were all my members written,
which, in continuance were fashioned, when as yet there was none of
them."
Thus it is with the Church,--the bride of the Second Man. She was
viewed from all eternity in Christ, her Head and Lord; as we read in
the first chapter of Ephesians, "According as he hath chosen us in him,
_before the foundation of the world_, that we should be holy and
without blame before him in love." Before a single member of the Church
had yet breathed the breath of life, all were, in God's eternal mind,
predestinated to be conformed to the "image of his Son." The counsels of
God render the Church necessary to complete the mystic man. Hence the
Church is called "the fulness ([Greek: pleroma]) of him that filleth
all in all." This is an amazing title, and it develops much of the
dignity, importance, and glory of the Church.
It is too common to view redemption as bearing merely upon the
blessedness and security of individual souls. This is entirely too low
a view to take of the matter. That all which pertains, in any way, to
the individual is, in the fullest manner, secured, is, blessed be God,
most true. This is the least part of redemption. But that Christ's
glory is involved in, and connected with, the Church's existence, is a
truth of far more dignity, depth, and power. If I am entitled, on the
authority of Holy Scripture, to regard myself as a constituent part of
that which is actually needful to Christ, I can no longer entertain a
doubt as to whether there is the fullest provision for all my personal
necessities. And is not the Church thus needful to Christ? Yes, truly.
"It is not good that _the_ man should be alone; I will make him an help
meet for him." And, again, "For the man is not of the woman; but the
woman of the man; neither was the man created for the woman; but the
woman for the man.... Nevertheless, neither is the man without the
woman, neither the woman without the man in the Lord. For as the woman
is of the man, even so is the man also by the woman; but all things of
God." (1 Cor. xi. 8-12.) Hence, it is no longer the mere question
whether God can save a poor, helpless sinner,--whether he can blot out
his sins, and receive him in the power of divine righteousness. God has
said, "it is not good that the man should be alone." He left not "the
first man" without "an help meet;" neither would he leave the "Second."
As, in the case of the former, there would have been a blank in the
creation without Eve, so--stupendous thought!--in the case of the
latter, there would be a blank in the new creation without the bride,
the Church.
Let us, now, look at the manner in which Eve was brought into being,
though, in so doing, we shall have to anticipate part of the contents
of the next chapter. Throughout all the orders of creation there was
not found an help meet for Adam. "A deep sleep" must fall on him, and a
partner be formed, out of himself, to share his dominion and his
blessedness. "And the Lord God caused a deep sleep to fall upon Adam,
and he slept: and he took one of his ribs, and closed up the flesh
instead thereof." And the rib, which the Lord God had taken from man,
builded[2] he a woman, and brought her unto the man. And Adam said,
This is now bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh; she shall be
called Woman, because she was taken out of man. (Chap. ii. 21-23.)
Looking at Adam and Eve as a type of Christ and the Church, as
scripture fully warrants us to do, we see how that the death of Christ
needed to be an accomplished fact, ere the Church could be set up;
though, in the purpose of God, she was looked at, and chosen in Christ,
before the foundation of the world. There is, however, a vast
difference between the secret purpose of God and the revelation and
accomplishment thereof. Before the divine purpose could be actualized
in reference to the constituent parts of the Church, it was necessary
that the Son should be rejected and crucified,--that he should take his
seat on high,--that he should send down the Holy Ghost to baptize
believers into one body. It is not that souls were not quickened and
saved, previous to the death of Christ. They assuredly were. Adam was
saved, and thousands of others, from age to age, in virtue of the
sacrifice of Christ, though that sacrifice was not yet accomplished.
But the salvation of individual souls is one thing; and the formation
of the Church, as a distinctive thing, by the Holy Ghost, is quite
another.
This distinction is not sufficiently attended to; and even where it is
in theory maintained, it is accompanied with but little of those
practical results which might naturally be expected to flow from a
truth so stupendous. The Church's unique place,--her special
relationship to "the Second Man, the Lord from heaven,"--her
distinctive privileges and dignities,--all these things would, if
entered into by the power of the Holy Ghost, produce the richest, the
rarest, and the most fragrant fruits. (See Eph. v. 23-32.)
When we look at the type before us, we may form some idea of the
results which ought to follow from the understanding of the Church's
position and relationship. What affection did not Eve owe to Adam! What
nearness she enjoyed! What intimacy of communion! What full
participation in all his thoughts! In all his dignity, and in all his
glory, she was entirely one. He did not rule _over_, but _with_ her. He
was Lord of the whole creation, and she was one with him. Yea, as has
already been remarked, she was looked at, and blessed _in_ him. "The
man" was the object; and as to "the woman," she was needful to him, and
therefore she was brought into being. Nothing can be more profoundly
interesting as a type. Man first set up, and the woman viewed in, and
then formed out of him,--all this forms a type of the most striking and
instructive character. Not that a doctrine can ever be founded upon a
type; but when we find the doctrine fully and clearly laid down in
other parts of the Word, we are then prepared to understand,
appreciate, and admire the type.
The 8th Psalm furnishes a fine view of man set over the work of God's
hands: "when I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers; the moon
and the stars which thou hast ordained: what is man that thou art
mindful of him? and the son of man that thou visitest him? For thou
hast made him a little lower than the angels, and hast crowned him with
glory and honor. Thou madest him to have dominion over the works of thy
hands; thou hast put all things under his feet: all sheep and oxen,
yea, and the beasts of the field; the fowl of the air, and the fish of
the sea, and whatsoever passeth through the paths of the sea." Here man
is looked at, without any distinctive mention of the woman; and this is
quite in character, for the woman is looked at _in_ the man.
There is no direct revelation of the mystery of the Church, in any part
of the Old Testament. The apostle expressly says, "in other ages it was
not made known to the sons of men as it is _now_ revealed unto his holy
apostles and prophets (of the New Testament) by the Spirit." (Eph. iii.
1-11.) Hence, in the Psalm just quoted, we have only "the man"
presented to us; but we know that the man and the woman are looked at
under one head. All this will find its full antitype in the ages to
come. Then shall the True Man, the Lord from heaven, take his seat on
the throne, and, in companionship with his bride, the Church, rule over
a restored creation. This Church is quickened out of the grave of
Christ, is part "of his body, of his flesh, and of his bones." He the
Head and she the body, making one Man, as we read in the fourth chapter
of Ephesians, "Till we all come, in the unity of the faith, and of the
knowledge of the Son of God, unto a perfect man, unto the measure of
the stature of the fulness of Christ." The Church, being thus part of
Christ, will occupy a place, in the glory, quite unique. There was no
other creature so near to Adam as Eve, because no other creature was
part of himself. So, in reference to the Church, she will hold the very
nearest place to Christ, in his coming glory.
Nor is it merely what the church _will be_ that commands our
admiration; but what the Church _is_. She is now the body of which
Christ is the Head; she is now the temple of which God is the
Inhabitant. Oh, what manner of people ought we to be! If such is the
present, such the future dignity of that of which we, through God's
grace, form a part, surely a holy, a devoted, a separated, an elevated
walk is what becomes us.
May the Holy Ghost unfold these things, more fully and powerfully, to
our hearts, that so we may have a deeper sense of the conduct and
character which are worthy of the high vocation wherewith we are
called. "The eyes of your understanding being enlightened; that ye may
know what is the hope of his calling, and what the riches of the glory
of his inheritance in the saints, and what is the exceeding greatness
of his power to usward who believe, according to the working of his
mighty power, which he wrought in Christ when he raised him from the
dead, and set him at his own right hand in the heavenly places, far
above all principality, and power, and might, and dominion, and every
name that is named, not only in this world, but also in that which is
to come; and hath put all things under his feet, and gave him to be
the head over all things to the Church, which is his body, the fulness
of him that filleth all in all." (Eph. i. 18-23.)
FOOTNOTES:
[1] It is an interesting fact that the moon, as viewed through a
powerful telescope, presents the appearance of one vast ruin of nature.
[2] The Hebrew word which is rendered "builded" in the margin, is
[Hebrew: vayyven] which the LXX. render by [Greek: okodomesen]. A
reference to the original of Eph. ii. 20, 22 will show the reader that
the words rendered "built" and "builded together" are inflections of
the same verb.
CHAPTER II.
This chapter introduces to our notice two prominent subjects, namely,
"the seventh day" and "the river." The first of these demands special
attention.
There are few subjects on which so much misunderstanding and
contradiction prevails as the doctrine of "the Sabbath." Not that there
is the slightest foundation for either the one or the other; for the
whole subject is laid down in the Word, in the simplest possible
manner. The distinct _commandment_, to "keep holy the Sabbath-day,"
will come before us, the Lord permitting, in our meditations on the
book of Exodus. In the chapter now before us, there is no command given
to man whatever; but simply the record that, "God rested on the seventh
day." "Thus the heavens and the earth were finished, and all the host
of them. And on the seventh day God ended his work which he had made;
and he rested on the seventh day from all his work which he had made.
And God blessed the seventh day, and sanctified it; because that in it
he had rested from all his work which God created and made." There is
no commandment given to man, here. We are simply told that God enjoyed
his rest, because all was done, so far as the mere creation was
concerned. There was nothing more to be done, and, therefore, the One
who had, during six days, been working, ceased to work, and enjoyed his
rest. All was complete; all was very good; all was just as he himself
had made it; and he rested in it. "The morning stars sang together; and
all the sons of God shouted for joy." The work of creation was ended,
and God was celebrating a sabbath.
And be it observed, that this is the true character of a sabbath. This
is the only sabbath which God ever celebrated, so far as the inspired
record instructs us. After this, we read of God's commanding man to
keep the sabbath, and man utterly failing so to do; but we never read
again the words, "God rested:" on the contrary, the word is, "My Father
worketh hitherto, and I work." (John v. 17.) The sabbath, in the strict
and proper sense of the term, could only be celebrated when there
really was nothing to be done. It could only be celebrated amid an
undefiled creation,--a creation on which no spot of sin could be
discerned. God can have no rest where there is sin; and one has only to
look around him in order to learn the total impossibility of God's
enjoying a rest in creation _now_. The thorn and the thistle, together
with the ten thousand other melancholy and humiliating fruits of a
groaning creation, rise before us, and declare that God must be at
_work_ and not at _rest_. Could God rest in the midst of thorns and
briers? Could he rest amid the sighs and tears, the groans and sorrows,
the sickness and death, the degradation and guilt of a ruined world?
Could God sit down, as it were, and celebrate a sabbath in the midst
of such circumstances?
Whatever answer may be given to these questions, the word of God
teaches us that God has had no sabbath, as yet, save the one which the
2d of Genesis records. "The seventh day," and none other, was the
sabbath. It showed forth the completeness of creation-work; but
creation-work is marred, and the seventh-day rest interrupted; and
thus, from the fall to the incarnation, God was working; from the
incarnation to the cross, God the Son was working; and from Pentecost
until now, God the Holy Ghost has been working.
Assuredly, Christ had no sabbath when he was upon this earth. True, he
finished his work,--blessedly, gloriously finished it,--but where did
he spend the Sabbath-day? _In the tomb!_ Yes, my reader, the Lord
Christ, God manifest in the flesh, the Lord of the Sabbath, the maker
and sustainer of heaven and earth, spent the seventh day in the dark
and silent tomb. Has this no voice for us? Does it convey no teaching?
Could the Son of God lie in the grave on the seventh day, if that day
were to be spent in rest and peace; and in the full sense that nothing
remained to be done? Impossible! We want no further proof of the
impossibility of celebrating a sabbath than that which is afforded at
the grave of Jesus. We may stand beside that grave amazed to find it
occupied by such an one on the seventh day; but, oh! the reason is
obvious. Man is a fallen, ruined, guilty creature. His long career of
guilt has ended in crucifying the Lord of glory; and not only
crucifying him, but placing a great stone at the mouth of the tomb, to
prevent, if possible, his leaving it.
And what was man doing while the Son of God was in the grave? He was
observing the Sabbath-day! What a thought! Christ in his grave to
repair a broken sabbath, and yet man attempting to keep the sabbath as
though it were not broken at all! It was _man's_ sabbath, and not
God's. It was a sabbath without Christ,--an empty, powerless,
worthless, because Christless and Godless, form.
But some will say, "the day has been changed, while all the principles
belonging to it remain the same." I do not believe that scripture
furnishes any foundation for such an idea. Where is the divine warrant
for such a statement? Surely if there is scripture authority, nothing
can be easier than to produce it. But the fact is, there is none; on
the contrary, the distinction is most fully maintained in the New
Testament. Take one remarkable passage, in proof: "In the end of the
Sabbath, as it began to dawn towards the first day of the week." (Matt.
xxviii. 1.) There is, evidently, no mention here of the seventh day
being changed to the first day; nor yet of any transfer of the Sabbath
from the one to the other. The first day of the week is not the Sabbath
changed, but altogether a new day. It is the first day of a new period,
and not the last day of an old. The seventh day stands connected with
earth and earthly rest: the first day of the week, on the contrary,
introduces us to heaven and heavenly rest.
This makes a vast difference in the principle; and when we look at the
matter in a practical point of view, the difference is most material.
If I celebrate the seventh day, it marks me as an earthly man, inasmuch
as that day is, clearly, the rest of earth--creation-rest; but if I am
taught by the Word and Spirit of God to understand the meaning of the
first day of the week, I shall at once apprehend its immediate
connection with that new and heavenly order of things, of which the
death and resurrection of Christ form the everlasting foundation. The
seventh day appertained to Israel and to earth. The first day of the
week appertains to the Church and to heaven. Further, Israel was
_commanded_ to observe the sabbath day; the Church is _privileged_ to
enjoy the first day of the week. The former was the _test_ of Israel's
moral condition; the latter is the significant _proof_ of the Church's
eternal acceptance. That made manifest what Israel _could do_ for God;
this perfectly declares what God _has done_ for us.
It is quite impossible to over-estimate the value and importance of the
Lord's day, ([Greek: he kyriake hemera,]) as the first day of the week
is termed, in the first chapter of the Apocalypse. Being the day on
which Christ rose from the dead, it sets forth not the completion of
creation, but the full and glorious triumph of redemption. Nor should
we regard the celebration of the first day of the week as a matter of
bondage, or as a yoke put on the neck of a Christian. It is his delight
to celebrate that happy day. Hence we find that the first day of the
week was pre-eminently the day on which the early Christians came
together to break bread; and at that period of the Church's history,
the distinction between the sabbath and the first day of the week was
fully maintained. The Jews celebrated the former, by assembling in
their synagogues to read "the law and the prophets;" the Christians
celebrated the latter, by assembling to break bread. There is not so
much as a single passage of scripture in which the first day of the
week is called the sabbath day; whereas there is the most abundant
proof of their entire distinctness.
Why, therefore, contend for that which has no foundation in the Word?
Love, honor, and celebrate the Lord's day as much as possible; seek,
like the apostle, to be "in the Spirit" thereon; let your retirement
from secular matters be as profound as ever you can make it; but while
you do all this, call it by its proper name; give it its proper place;
understand its proper principles; attach to it its proper
characteristics; and, above all, do not bind down the Christian, as
with an iron rule, to observe the seventh day, when it is his high and
holy privilege to observe the first. Do not bring him down from heaven,
where he can rest, to a cursed and bloodstained earth, where he cannot.
Do not ask him to keep a day which his Master spent in the tomb,
instead of that blessed day on which he left it. (See, carefully, Matt.
xxviii. 1-6; Mark xvi. 1-2; Luke xxiv. 1; John xx. 1, 19, 26; Acts xx.
7; 1 Cor. xvi. 2; Rev. i. 10; Acts xiii. 14; xvii. 2; Col. ii. 16.)
But let it not be supposed that we lose sight of the important fact
that the sabbath will again be celebrated, in the land of Israel, and
over the whole creation. It assuredly will. "There remaineth a rest
([Greek: sabbatismos]) for the people of God." (Heb. iv. 9.) When the
Son of Abraham, Son of David, and Son of Man, shall assume his position
of government over the whole earth, there will be a glorious
sabbath,--a rest which sin shall never interrupt. But now, he is
rejected, and all who know and love him are called to take their place
with him in his rejection; they are called to "go forth to him without
the camp bearing his reproach." (Heb. xiii. 13.) If earth could keep a
sabbath, there would be no reproach; but the very fact of the
professing church's seeking to make the first day of the week the
sabbath, reveals a deep principle. It is but the effort to get back to
an earthly standing, and to an earthly code of morals.
Many may not see this. Many true Christians may, most conscientiously,
observe the sabbath day, as such; and we are bound to honor their
consciences, though we are perfectly warranted in asking them to
furnish a scriptural basis for their conscientious convictions. We
would not stumble or wound their conscience, but we would seek to
instruct it. However, we are not now occupied with conscience or its
convictions, but only with the principle which lies at the root of what
may be termed the sabbath question; and I would only put the question
to the Christian reader, which is more consonant with the entire scope
and spirit of the New Testament, the celebration of the seventh day or
sabbath, or the celebration of the first day of the week or the Lord's
day?[3]
We shall now consider the connection between the sabbath, and the river
flowing out of Eden. There is much interest in this. It is the first
notice we get of "the river of God," which is, here, introduced in
connection with God's rest. When God was resting in his works, the
whole world felt the blessing and refreshment thereof. It was
impossible for God to keep a sabbath, and earth not to feel its sacred
influence. But, alas! the streams which flowed forth from Eden--the
scene of earthly rest--were speedily interrupted, because the rest of
creation was marred by sin.
Yet, blessed be God, sin did not put a stop to his activities, but only
gave them a new sphere; and wherever he is seen acting, the river is
seen flowing. Thus, when we find him, with a strong hand, and an
outstretched arm, conducting his ransomed hosts across the sterile sand
of the desert, there we see the stream flowing forth, not from Eden,
but from the smitten Rock,--apt and beautiful expression of the ground
on which sovereign grace ministers to the need of sinners! This was
redemption, and not merely creation. "That rock was Christ," Christ
smitten to meet his people's need. The smitten Rock was connected with
Jehovah's place in the tabernacle; and truly there was moral beauty in
the connection. God dwelling in curtains, and Israel drinking from a
smitten rock, had a voice for every opened ear, and a deep lesson for
every circumcised heart. (Exod. xvii. 6.)
Passing onward, in the history of God's ways, we find the river flowing
in another channel. "In the last day, that great day of the feast,
Jesus stood, and cried, saying, If any man thirst, let him come unto
me, and drink. He that believeth on me, as the Scripture hath said, out
of his belly shall flow rivers of living water." (John vii. 37, 38.)
Here, then, we find the river emanating from another source, and
flowing through another channel; though, in one sense, the source of
the river was ever the same, being God himself; but, then, it was God,
known in a new relationship and upon a new principle. Thus in the
passage just quoted, the Lord Jesus was taking his place, in spirit,
outside of the whole existing order of things, and presenting himself
as the source of the river of living water, of which river the person
of the believer was to be the channel. Eden, of old, was constituted a
debtor to the whole earth, to send forth the fertilizing streams. And
in the desert, the rock, when smitten, became a debtor to Israel's
thirsty hosts. Just so, now, every one who believes in Jesus, is a
debtor to the scene around him, to allow the streams of refreshment to
flow forth from him.
The Christian should regard himself as the channel through which the
manifold grace of Christ may flow out to a needy world; and the more
freely he communicates, the more freely will he receive, "for there is
that scattereth, and yet increaseth; and there is that withholdeth more
than is meet, and it tendeth to poverty." This places the believer in a
place of sweetest privileges, and, at the same time, of the most solemn
responsibility. He is called to be the constant witness and exhibiter
of the grace of him on whom he believes.
Now, the more he enters into the privilege, the more will he answer the
responsibility. If he is habitually feeding upon Christ, he cannot
avoid exhibiting him. The more the Holy Spirit keeps the Christian's
eye fixed on Jesus, the more will his heart be occupied with his
adorable Person, and his life and character bear unequivocal testimony
to his grace. Faith is, at once, the power of ministry, the power of
testimony, and the power of worship. If we are not living "by the
faith of the Son of God, who loved us, and gave himself for us," we
shall neither be effectual servants, faithful witnesses, nor true
worshippers. We may be doing a great deal; but it will not be service
to Christ. We may be saying a great deal, but it will not be testimony
for Christ. We may exhibit a great deal of piety and devotion; but it
will not be spiritual and true worship.
Finally, we have the river of God, presented to us in the last chapter
of the Apocalypse.[4] "And he showed me a pure river of water of life,
clear as crystal, proceeding out of the throne of God and of the Lamb."
"There is a river, the streams whereof shall make glad the city of God,
the holy place of the tabernacles of the Most High." This is the last
place in which we find the river. Its source can never again be
touched,--its channel never again interrupted. "The throne of God" is
expressive of eternal stability; and the presence of the Lamb marks it
as based upon the immediate ground of accomplished redemption. It is
not God's throne in creation; nor in providence: but in redemption.
When I see _the Lamb_, I know its connection with me as _a sinner_.
"The throne of God," as such, would but deter me; but when God reveals
himself in the Person of the Lamb, the heart is attracted, and the
conscience tranquillized.
The blood of the Lamb cleanses the conscience from every speck and
stain of sin, and sets it, in perfect freedom, in the presence of a
holiness which cannot tolerate sin. In the cross, all the claims of
divine holiness were perfectly answered; so that the more I understand
the latter, the more I appreciate the former. The higher our estimate
of holiness, the higher will be our estimate of the work of the cross.
"Grace reigns, through righteousness, unto eternal life, by Jesus
Christ our Lord." Hence the Psalmist calls on the saints to give thanks
at the remembrance of God's holiness. This is a precious fruit of a
perfect redemption. Before ever a sinner can give thanks at the
remembrance of God's holiness, he must look at it by faith, from the
resurrection side of the cross.
Having thus traced the river, from Genesis to Revelation, we shall
briefly look at Adam's position in Eden. We have seen him as a type of
Christ; but he is not merely to be viewed typically, but personally;
not merely as absolutely shadowing forth "the second man, the Lord from
heaven," but also as standing in the place of personal responsibility.
In the midst of the fair scene of creation, the Lord God set up a
testimony, and this testimony was also a test for the creature. It
spoke of _death_ in the midst of _life_. "In the day that thou eatest
thereof, thou shalt surely die." Strange, solemn sound! Yet, it was a
needed sound. Adam's life was suspended upon his strict obedience. The
link which connected him with the Lord God[5] was obedience, based on
implicit confidence in the One who had set him in his position of
dignity--confidence in his truth--confidence in his love. He could obey
only while he confided. We shall see the truth and force of this more
fully when we come to examine the next chapter.
I would here suggest to my reader the remarkable contrast between the
testimony set up in Eden, and that which is set up now. Then, when all
around was _life_, God spoke of _death_; now, on the contrary, when all
around is death, God speaks of life: then the word was, "in the day
thou eatest thou shalt _die_;" now the word is, "believe and _live_."
And, as in Eden, the enemy sought to make void God's testimony, as to
the result of eating the fruit, so now, he seeks to make void God's
testimony as to the result of believing the gospel. God had said, "In
the day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely _die_." But the
serpent said, "Ye shall not surely _die_." And now, when God's word
plainly declares that "he that believeth on the Son _hath_ everlasting
_life_," (John iii. 36,) the same serpent seeks to persuade people
that they have _not_ everlasting _life_, nor should they presume to
think of such a thing, until they have, first, _done_, _felt_, and
_experienced_ all manner of things.
My beloved reader, if you have not yet heartily believed the divine
record, let me beseech you to allow "the voice of the Lord" to prevail
above the hiss of the serpent. "He that heareth my word, and believeth
on him that sent me, hath everlasting life, and shall not come into
condemnation; but is passed from death unto life." (John v. 24.)
FOOTNOTES:
[3] This subject will, if the Lord permit, come before us again in the
twentieth chapter of Exodus; but I would, here, observe, that very much
of the offence and misunderstanding connected with the important
subject of the sabbath, may be justly traced to the inconsiderate and
injudicious conduct of some who, in their zeal for what they termed
Christian liberty, in reference to the sabbath, rather lose sight of
the claims of honest consciences; and also of the place which the
Lord's day occupies in the New Testament. Some have been known to enter
on their weekly avocations, simply to show their liberty, and thus they
caused much needless offence. Such acting could never have been
suggested by the Spirit of Christ. If I am ever so clear and free in my
own mind, I should respect the consciences of my brethren; and,
moreover, I do not believe that those who so carry themselves, really
understand the true and precious privileges connected with the Lord's
day. We should only be too thankful to be rid of all secular occupation
and distraction, to think of having recourse to them for the purpose of
showing our liberty. The good providence of our God has so arranged for
his people throughout the British Empire that they can, without
pecuniary loss, enjoy the rest of the Lord's day, inasmuch as all are
obliged to abstain from business. This must be regarded by every
well-regulated mind as a mercy; for, if it were not thus ordered, we
know how man's covetous heart would, if possible, rob the Christian of
the sweet privilege of attending the assembly on the Lord's day. And
who can tell what would be the deadening effect of uninterrupted
engagement with this world's traffic? Those Christians who, from Monday
morning to Saturday night, breathe the dense atmosphere of the mart,
the market, and the manufactory, can form some idea of it.
It cannot be regarded as a good sign to find men introducing measures
for the public profanation of the Lord's day. It assuredly marks the
progress of infidelity and French influence.
But there are some who teach that the expression [Greek: he kyriake
hemera], which is rightly enough translated, "the Lord's day," refers to
"the day of the Lord," and that the exiled apostle found himself
carried forward, as it were, into the Spirit of the day of the Lord. I
do not believe the original would bear such an interpretation; and,
besides, we have in 1 Thess. v. 2, and 2 Peter iii. 10, the exact
words, "the day of the Lord," the original of which is quite different
from the expression above referred to, being not [Greek: he kyriake
hemera], but [Greek: he hemera kyriou]. This entirely settles the
matter, so far as the mere criticism is concerned; and as to
interpretation, it is plain that by far the greater portion of the
Apocalypse is occupied, not with "the day of the Lord," but with events
prior thereto.
[4] Compare, also, Ezekiel xlvii. 1-12; and Zech. xiv. 8.
[5] My reader will observe the change in the second chapter from the
expression "God" to "Lord God." There is much importance in the
distinction. When God is seen acting in relation with man, he takes the
title "Lord God,"--(Jehovah Elohim;) but until man appears on the
scene, the word "Lord" is not used. I shall just point out three out of
many passages in which the distinction is very strikingly presented.
"And they that went in, went in male and female of all flesh, as _God_
(Elohim) had commanded him; and the _Lord_ (Jehovah) shut him in."
(Gen. vii. 16.) Elohim was going to destroy the world which he had
made; but Jehovah took care of the man with whom he stood in relation.
Again, "that all the earth may know that there is a God (Elohim) in
Israel. And all this assembly shall know that the Lord (Jehovah)
saveth," &c. (1 Sam. xvii. 46, 47.) All the earth was to recognise the
presence of Elohim; but Israel was called to recognise the actings of
Jehovah, with whom they stood in relation. Lastly, "Jehoshaphat cried
out, and _the Lord_ (Jehovah) helped him; and _God_ (Elohim) moved
_them_ to depart from him." (2 Chron. xviii. 31.) Jehovah took care of
his poor erring servant; but Elohim, though unknown, acted upon the
hearts of the uncircumcised Syrians.
CHAPTER III.
This section of our book sets before us the breaking up of the whole
scene on which we have been dwelling. It abounds in very weighty
principles; and has, very justly, been, in all ages, resorted to as a
most fruitful theme for those who desired to set forth the truth as to
man's ruin and God's remedy. The serpent enters, with a bold question
as to divine revelation,--terrible model and forerunner of all infidel
questions since raised by those who have, alas! too faithfully served
the serpent's cause in the world,--questions which are only to be met
by the supreme authority and divine majesty of Holy Scripture.
"Yea, hath God said, ye shall not eat of every tree of the garden?"
This was Satan's crafty inquiry; and had the word of God been dwelling
richly in Eve's heart, her answer might have been direct, simple, and
conclusive. The true way in which to meet Satan's questions and
suggestions, is to treat them as his, and repel them by the word. To
let them near the heart, for a moment, is to lose the only power by
which to answer them. The devil did not openly present himself and say,
"I am the devil, the enemy of God, and I am come to traduce him, and
ruin you." This would not be serpent-like; and, yet, he really did all
this, _by raising questions_ in the mind of the creature. To admit the
question, "hath God said?" when I know that God has spoken, is positive
infidelity; and the very fact of my admitting it, proves my total
incapacity to meet it. Hence, in Eve's case, the form of her reply
evidenced the fact that she had admitted to her heart the serpent's
crafty inquiry. Instead of adhering strictly to the exact words of God,
she, in her reply, actually adds thereto.
Now, either to add to, or take from, God's word, proves, very clearly,
that his word is not dwelling in my heart, or governing my conscience.
If a man is finding his enjoyment in obedience, if it is his meat and
his drink, if he is living by every word that proceedeth out of the
mouth of Jehovah, he will, assuredly, be acquainted with, and fully
alive to, his word. He could not be indifferent to it. The Lord Jesus,
in his conflict with Satan, accurately applied the word, because he
lived upon it, and esteemed it more than his necessary food. He could
not misquote or misapply the word, neither could he be indifferent
about it. Not so Eve. She added to what God had said. His command was
simple enough, "Thou shalt not eat of it." To this Eve adds her own
words, "neither shall ye touch it." These were Eve's words and not
God's. He had said nothing about touching; so that whether her
misquotation proceeded from ignorance, or indifference, or a desire to
represent God in an arbitrary light, or from all three together, it is
plain that she was entirely off the true ground of simple confidence
in, and subjection to, God's holy word. "By the words of thy mouth, I
have kept me from the paths of the destroyer."
Nothing can possess more commanding interest than the way in which the
word is everywhere put forward throughout the sacred canon, together
with the immense importance of strict obedience thereto. Obedience is
due from us to God's word, simply because it is his word. To raise a
question when he has spoken, is blasphemy. We are in the place of the
creature. He is the Creator; He may, therefore, justly claim obedience
from us. The infidel may call this "blind obedience;" but the Christian
calls it intelligent obedience, inasmuch as it is based upon the
knowledge that it is God's word to which he is obedient. If a man had
not God's word, he might well be said to be in blindness and darkness,
for there is not so much as a single ray of divine light, within or
around us, but what emanates from God's pure and eternal word. All that
we want to know is that God has spoken, and then obedience becomes the
very highest order of intelligent acting. When the soul gets up to God,
it has reached the very highest source of authority. No man, nor body
of men, can claim obedience to their word, because it is theirs; and
hence the claims of the Church of Rome are arrogant and impious. In her
claiming obedience, she usurps the prerogative of God; and all who
yield it, rob God of his right. She presumes to place herself between
God and the conscience; and who can do this with impunity? When God
speaks, man is bound to obey. Happy is he if he does so. Woe be to him
if he does not. Infidelity may question if God has spoken; superstition
may place human authority between my conscience and what God has
spoken; by both alike I am effectually robbed of the word, and, as a
consequence, of the deep blessedness of obedience.
There is a blessing in every act of obedience; but the moment the soul
hesitates, the enemy has the advantage; and he will assuredly use it to
thrust the soul farther and farther from God. Thus, in the chapter
before us, the question, "Hath God said?" was followed by, "Ye shall
not surely die." That is to say, there was first the question raised,
as to whether God had spoken, and then followed the open contradiction
of what God had said. This solemn fact is abundantly sufficient to show
how dangerous it is to admit near the heart a question as to divine
revelation, in its fulness and integrity. A refined rationalism is very
near akin to bold infidelity; and the infidelity that dares to judge
God's Word is not far from the atheism that denies his existence. Eve
would never have stood by to hear God contradicted, if she had not
previously fallen into looseness and indifference as to his word. She,
too, had her "Phases of Faith," or, to speak more correctly, her phases
of infidelity; she suffered God to be contradicted by a creature,
simply because his word had lost its proper authority over her heart,
her conscience, and her understanding.
This furnishes a most solemn warning to all who are in danger of being
ensnared by an unhallowed rationalism. There is no true security, save
in a profound faith in the plenary inspiration and supreme authority of
"ALL SCRIPTURE." The soul that is endowed with this has a triumphant
answer to every objector, whether he issue from Rome or Germany. "There
is nothing new under the sun." The self-same evil which is now
corrupting the very springs of religious thought and feeling,
throughout the fairest portion of the continent of Europe, was that
which laid Eve's heart in ruins, in the garden of Eden. The first step
in her downward course was her hearkening to the question, "Hath God
said?" And then, onward she went, from stage to stage, until, at
length, she bowed before the serpent, and owned him as her god, and the
fountain of truth. Yes, my reader, the serpent displaced God, and the
serpent's lie God's truth. Thus it was with fallen man; and thus it is
with fallen man's posterity. God's word has no place in the heart of
the unregenerated man; but the lie of the serpent has. Let the
formation of man's heart be examined, and it will be found that there
is a place therein for Satan's lie, but none whatever for the truth of
God. Hence the force of the word to Nicodemus, "Ye must be born again."
But, it is important to observe the mode in which the serpent sought to
shake Eve's confidence in God's truth, and thus bring her under the
power of infidel "_reason_." It was by shaking her confidence in God's
love. He sought to shake her confidence in what God had said by
showing that the testimony was not founded in love. "For," said he,
"God doth know that in the day ye eat thereof, then your eyes shall be
opened, and ye shall be as gods knowing good and evil." (Ver. 5.) In
other words, "There is positive advantage connected with the eating of
that fruit of which God is seeking to deprive you; why, therefore,
should you believe God's testimony? you cannot place confidence in one
who, manifestly, does not love you; for, if he loved you, why should he
prohibit your enjoying a positive privilege?"
Eve's security against the influence of all this reasoning, would have
been simple repose in the infinite goodness of God. She should have
said to the serpent, "I have the fullest confidence in God's goodness,
and, therefore, I deem it impossible that he could withhold any real
good from me. If that fruit were good for me, I should surely have it;
but the fact of its being forbidden by God proves that I would be no
better, but much worse off by the eating of it. I am convinced of God's
_love_, and I am convinced of God's _truth_, and I believe, too, that
you are an evil one come to draw my heart away from the fountain of
goodness and truth. Get thee behind me, Satan." This would have been a
noble reply. But it was not given. Her confidence in truth and love
gave way, and all was lost; and so we find that there is just as little
place in the heart of fallen man for God's love, as there is for God's
truth. The heart of man is a stranger to both the one and the other,
until renewed by the power of the Holy Ghost.
Now, it is deeply interesting to turn from Satan's lie in reference to
the truth and love of God, to the mission of the Lord Jesus
Christ, who came from the bosom of the Father in order to reveal what
he really is. "Grace and truth,"--the very things which man lost, in
his fall,--"came by Jesus Christ." (John i. 17.) He was "the faithful
witness" of what God was. (Rev. i. 5.) Truth reveals God as he is; but
this truth is connected with the revelation of perfect grace; and thus
the sinner finds, to his unspeakable joy, that the revelation of what
God is, instead of being his destruction, becomes the basis of his
eternal salvation. "This is life eternal, that they might know thee,
the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent." (John xvii.
3.) I cannot know God and not have life. The loss of the knowledge of
God was death; but the knowledge of God is life. This, necessarily,
makes life a thing entirely outside of ourselves, and dependent upon
what God is. Let me arrive at what amount of self-knowledge I may, it
is not said that "this is life eternal, to know themselves;" though, no
doubt, the knowledge of God and the knowledge of self will go very much
together; still, "eternal life" is connected with the former, and not
with the latter. To know God as he is, is life; and "all who know not
God" shall be "punished with everlasting destruction from his
presence."
It is of the utmost importance to see that what really stamps man's
character and condition is his ignorance or knowledge of God. This it
is that marks his character here, and fixes his destiny hereafter. Is
he evil in his thoughts, evil in his words, evil in his actions? It is
all the result of his being ignorant of God. On the other hand, is he
pure in thought, holy in conversation, gracious in action? It is but
the practical result of his knowledge of God. So also as to the future.
To know God is the solid ground of endless bliss,--everlasting glory.
To know him not is "everlasting destruction." Thus the knowledge of God
is every thing. It quickens the soul, purifies the heart, tranquillizes
the conscience, elevates the affections, sanctifies the entire
character and conduct.
Need we wonder, therefore, that Satan's grand design was to rob the
creature of the true knowledge of the only true God? He misrepresented
the blessed God: he said he was not kind. This was the secret spring of
all the mischief. It matters not what shape sin has since taken,--it
matters not through what channel it has flowed, under what head it has
ranged itself, or in what garb it has clothed itself,--it is all to be
traced to this one thing, namely, ignorance of God. The most refined
and cultivated moralist, the most devout religionist, the most
benevolent philanthropist, if ignorant of God, is as far from life and
true holiness, as the publican and the harlot. The prodigal was just as
much a sinner, and as positively away from the Father, when he had
crossed the threshold, as when he was feeding swine in the far country.
(Luke xv. 13-15.) So in Eve's case. The moment she took herself out of
the hands of God,--out of the position of absolute dependence upon, and
subjection to, his word,--she abandoned herself to the government of
sense, as used of Satan for her entire overthrow.
The sixth verse presents three things, namely: "the lust of the flesh,
the lust of the eye, and the pride of life;" which three, as the
apostle states, comprehend "all that is in the world." These things
necessarily took the lead, when God was shut out. If I do not abide in
the happy assurance of God's love and truth, his grace and
faithfulness, I shall surrender myself to the government of some one,
or it may be all, of the above principles; and this is only another
name for the government of Satan. There is, strictly speaking, no such
thing as man's free-will. If man be self-governed, he is really
governed by Satan; and if not, he is governed by God.
Now, the three great agencies by which Satan works are "the lust of the
flesh, the lust of the eye, and the pride of life." Those were the
things presented by Satan to the Lord Jesus, in the temptation. He
began by tempting the Second Man to take himself out of the position of
absolute dependence upon God. "Command these stones that they be made
bread." He asked him to do this, not, as in the case of the first man,
to make himself what he was not, but to prove what he was. Then
followed the offer of the kingdoms of the world, with all their glory.
And, finally, conducting him to a pinnacle of the temple, he tempted
him to give himself, suddenly and miraculously, to the admiration of
the assembled people below. (Comp. Matt. iv. 1-11 with Luke iv. 1-13.)
The plain design of each temptation was to induce the Blessed One to
step from the position of entire dependence upon God, and perfect
subjection to his will. But all in vain. "_It is written_," was the
unvarying reply of the only dependent, self-emptied, perfect man.
Others might undertake to manage for themselves: none but God should
manage for him.
What an example for the faithful, under all their circumstances! Jesus
kept close to scripture, and thus conquered: without any other weapon,
save the sword of the Spirit, he stood in the conflict, and gained a
glorious triumph. What a contrast with the first Adam! The one had
every thing to plead for God: the other had every thing to plead
against him. The garden, with all its delights, in the one case; the
wilderness, with all its privations, in the other: confidence in Satan,
in the one case; confidence in God in the other: complete defeat in the
one case; complete victory in the other. Blessed forever be the God of
all grace, who has laid our help on One so mighty to conquer, mighty to
save!
Let us now inquire how far Adam and Eve realized the serpent's promised
advantage. This inquiry will lead us to a deeply-important point in
connection with the fall of man. The Lord God had so ordered it, that
in and by the fall, man should get what previously he had not, and that
was _a conscience_,--a knowledge of both good and evil. This, man
evidently could not have had before. He could not have known aught
about evil, inasmuch as evil was not there to be known. He was in a
state of innocence, which is a state of ignorance of evil. Man got a
conscience in and by the fall; and we find that the very first effect
of conscience was to make him a coward. Satan had utterly deceived the
woman. He had said, "your eyes shall be opened, and ye shall be as
gods, knowing good and evil." But he had left out a material part of
the truth, namely, that they should know good, without the power to do
it; and that they should know evil, without the power to avoid it.
Their very attempt to elevate themselves in the scale of moral
existence involved the loss of true elevation. They became degraded,
powerless, Satan-enslaved, conscience-smitten, terrified creatures.
"The eyes of them both were opened," no doubt; but alas! to what a
sight! It was only to discover their own nakedness. They opened their
eyes upon their own condition, which was "wretched, and miserable, and
poor, and blind, and naked." "They knew that they were naked,"--sad
fruit of the tree of knowledge! It was not any fresh knowledge of
divine excellency they had attained,--no fresh beam of divine light
from the pure and eternal fountain thereof,--alas! no: the very
earliest result of their disobedient effort after knowledge was the
discovery that they were naked.
Now, it is well to understand this; well, too, to know how conscience
works,--to see that it can only make cowards of us, as being the
consciousness of what we are. Many are astray as to this: they think
that conscience will bring us to God. Did it operate thus, in the case
of Adam and Eve? Assuredly not. Nor will it, in the case of any sinner.
How could it? How could the sense of what _I am_ ever bring me to God,
if not accompanied by the faith of what _God is_? Impossible: it will
produce shame, self-reproach, remorse, anguish. It may, also, give
birth to certain efforts, on my part, to remedy the condition which it
discloses; but these very efforts, so far from drawing us to God,
rather act as a blind to hide him from our view. Thus, in the case of
Adam and Eve, the discovery of their nakedness was followed by an
effort of their own to cover it. "They sewed fig-leaves together and
made themselves aprons." This is the first record we have of man's
attempt to remedy, by his own device, his condition; and the attentive
consideration thereof will afford us not a little instruction as to the
real character of human religiousness in all ages. In the first place
we see, not only in Adam's case, but in every case, that man's effort
to remedy his condition is based upon the sense of his nakedness. He
is, confessedly, naked, and all his works are the result of his being
so. This can never avail. I must know that I am clothed, before I can
do any thing acceptable in the sight of God.
And this, be it observed, is the difference between true Christianity
and human religiousness. The former is founded upon the fact of a man's
being clothed: the latter, upon the fact of his being naked. The former
has for its starting-post what the latter has for its goal. All that a
true Christian does, is because he is clothed,--perfectly clothed; all
that a mere religionist does, is in order that he may be clothed. This
makes a vast difference. The more we examine the genius of man's
religion, in all its phases, the more we shall see its thorough
insufficiency to remedy his state, or even to meet his own sense
thereof. It may do very well for a time. It may avail so long as death,
judgment, and the wrath of God are looked at from a distance, if looked
at at all; but when a man comes to look these terrible realities
straight in the face, he will find, in good truth, that his religion is
a bed too short for him to stretch himself upon, and a covering too
narrow for him to wrap himself in.
The moment Adam heard the voice of the Lord God, in Eden, "_he was
afraid_," because, as he himself confessed, "I was naked." Yes, naked,
although he had his apron on him. But it is plain that that covering
did not even satisfy his own conscience. Had his conscience been
divinely satisfied, he would not have been afraid. "If our heart
condemn us not, then have we confidence toward God." (1 John iii. 20,
21.) But if even the human conscience cannot find repose in man's
religious efforts, how much less can the holiness of God. Adam's apron
could not screen him from the eye of God; and he could not stand in his
presence naked: therefore he fled to hide himself. This is what
conscience will do at all times. It will cause man to hide himself from
God; and, moreover, all that his own religiousness offers him is a
hiding-place from God. This is a miserable provision, inasmuch as he
must meet God, some time or other; and if he has naught save the sad
conscience of what he is, he must be afraid,--yea, he must be wretched.
Indeed, nothing is needed, save hell itself, to complete the misery of
one who feels he has to meet God, and knows only his own unfitness to
meet him.
Had Adam known God's perfect love, he would not have been afraid.
"There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear, because
fear hath torment. He that feareth is not made perfect in love." (1
John iv. 17, 18.) But Adam knew not this, because he had believed the
serpent's lie. He thought that God was any thing but love; and,
therefore, the very last thought of his heart would have been to
venture into his presence. He could not do it. Sin was there, and God
and sin can never meet; so long as there is sin on the conscience,
there must be the sense of distance from God. "He is of purer eyes
than to behold evil, and cannot look upon iniquity." (Hab. i. 13.)
Holiness and sin cannot dwell together. Sin, wherever it is found, can
only be met by the wrath of God.
But, blessed be God, there is something beside the _conscience of what
I am_. There is _the revelation of what he is_; and this latter the
fall of man really brought out. God had not revealed himself, fully, in
creation: he had shown "his eternal power and Godhead,"[6] ([Greek:
theiotes]) but he had not told out all the deep secrets of his nature
and character. Wherefore Satan made a grand mistake in coming to meddle
with God's creation. He only proved to be the instrument of his own
eternal defeat and confusion, and "his violent dealing" shall forever
"come down upon his own pate." His _lie_ only gave occasion for the
display of the full _truth_ in reference to God. Creation never could
have brought out what God was. There was infinitely more in him than
power and wisdom. There was love, mercy, holiness, righteousness,
goodness, tenderness, long-suffering. Where could all these be
displayed, but in a world of sinners? God, at the first, came down to
_create_; and, then, when the serpent presumed to meddle with creation,
God came down to _save_. This is brought out in the first words uttered
by the Lord God, after man's fall. "And the Lord God called unto Adam,
and said unto him, Where art thou?" This question proved two things. It
proved that man was lost, and that God had come to seek. It proved
man's sin, and God's grace. "Where art thou?" Amazing faithfulness!
Amazing grace! Faithfulness, to disclose, in the very question itself,
the truth as to man's condition: grace, to bring out, in the very fact
of God's asking such a question, the truth as to his character and
attitude, in reference to fallen man. Man was lost; but God had come
down to look for him--to bring him out of his hiding-place, behind the
trees of the garden, in order that, in the happy confidence of faith,
he might find a hiding-place in himself. This was grace. To create man
out of the dust of the ground was _power_; but to seek man in his lost
estate was _grace_. But who can utter all that is wrapped up in the
idea of God's being a _seeker_? God seeking a sinner? What could the
Blessed One have seen in man, to lead him to seek for him? Just what
the shepherd saw in the lost sheep; or what the woman saw in the lost
piece of silver; or what the father saw in the lost son. The sinner is
valuable to God; but why he should be so eternity alone will unfold.
How, then, did the sinner reply to the faithful and gracious inquiry of
the Blessed God? Alas! the reply only reveals the awful depth of evil
into which he had fallen. "And he said, I heard thy voice in the
garden, and I was afraid, because I was naked; and I hid myself. And he
said, Who told thee that thou wast naked? Hast thou eaten of the tree,
whereof I commanded thee that thou shouldest not eat? And the man
said, The woman whom _thou gavest_ to be with me, she gave me of the
tree, and I did eat." Here, we find him actually laying the blame of
his shameful fall on the circumstances in which God had placed him, and
thus, indirectly, upon God himself. This has ever been the way with
fallen man. Every one and every thing is blamed but _self_. In the case
of true conviction, the very reverse is exhibited. "Is it not _I_ that
have sinned?" is the inquiry of a truly humbled soul. Had Adam known
himself, how different would have been his style! But he neither knew
himself nor God, and, therefore, instead of throwing the blame entirely
upon himself, he threw it upon God.
Here, then, was man's terrible position. He had lost all. His
dominion--his dignity--his happiness--his innocence--his purity--his
peace--all was gone from him; and, what was still worse, he accused God
of being the cause of it.[7] There he stood, a lost, ruined, guilty,
and yet, _self-vindicating_, and, therefore, _God-accusing_ sinner.
Now, it is perfectly true, that no man can believe the gospel, except
by the power of the Holy Ghost; and it is also true, that all who so
believe the gospel are the happy subjects of God's eternal counsels.
But does all this set aside man's responsibility to believe a plain
testimony set before him in God's Word? It most certainly does no such
thing. But it does reveal the sad evil of man's heart, which leads him
to reject _God's testimony_ which is plainly revealed, and to give as a
reason for so doing _God's decree_, which is a profound secret, known
only to himself. However, it will not avail, for we read in 1 Thess. i.
8, 9, that those "who obey not the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ,
shall be punished with everlasting destruction."
Men are responsible to believe the gospel, and they will be punished
for not believing it. They are not responsible to know any thing about
God's counsels, inasmuch as they are not revealed, and, therefore,
there can be no guilt attached to ignorance concerning them. The
apostle could say to the Thessalonians, "knowing, brethren beloved,
your election of God." How did he know it? Was it by having access to
the page of God's secret and eternal decrees? By no means. How then?
"Because ([Greek: hoti]) our gospel came not unto you in word only, but
also in power." (1 Thess. i. 4, 5.) This is the way to know the
election of any. When the gospel comes in power, it is a plain proof of
God's election.
But, I doubt not, the people who draw a plea from the divine counsels
for rejecting the divine testimony, only want some flimsy excuse to
continue in sin. They really do not want God; and it would be far more
honest in them to say so, plainly, than to put forward a plea which is
not merely flimsy, but positively blasphemous. Such a plea will not
avail them much amid the terrors of the day of judgment, now fast
approaching.
But, just at this point, God began to reveal himself, and his purposes
of redeeming love; and herein lay the true basis of man's peace and
blessedness. When man has come to the end of himself, God can show what
he is; but not until then. The scene must be entirely cleared of man,
and all his vain pretensions, empty boastings, and blasphemous
reasonings, ere God can or will reveal himself. Thus it was when man
was hidden behind the trees of the garden, that God unfolded his
wondrous plan of redemption through the instrumentality of the bruised
seed of the woman. Here we are taught a valuable principle of truth as
to what it is which alone will bring a man, peacefully and confidingly,
into the presence of God.
It has been already remarked that conscience will never effect this.
Conscience drove Adam behind the trees of the garden; revelation
brought him forth into the presence of God. The consciousness of what
he was terrified him; the revelation of what God was tranquillized him.
This is truly consolatory for a poor sin-burdened heart. The reality of
what I am is met by the reality of what God is; and this is salvation.
There is a point where God and man must meet, whether in grace or
judgment, and that point is where both are revealed _as they are_.
Happy are they who reach that point in grace! Woe be to them who will
have to reach it in judgment! It is with what we are that God deals;
and it is as he is that he deals with us. In the cross, I see God
descending in grace to the lowest depths, not merely of my negative,
but my positive condition, as a sinner. This gives perfect peace. If
God has met me, in my actual condition, and himself provided an
adequate remedy, all is eternally settled. But all who do not thus, by
faith, see God, in the cross, will have to meet him, by and by, in
judgment, when he will have to deal, according to what he is, with what
they are.
The moment a man is brought to know his real state, he can find no rest
until he has found God, in the cross, and then he rests in God himself.
He, blessed be his name, is the Rest and Hiding-place of the believing
soul. This, at once, puts human works and human righteousness in their
proper place. We can say, with truth, that those who rest in such
things cannot possibly have arrived at the true knowledge of
themselves. It is quite impossible that a divinely quickened
conscience can rest in aught save the perfect sacrifice of the Son of
God. All effort to establish one's own righteousness must proceed from
ignorance of the righteousness of God. Adam might learn, in the light
of the divine testimony about "the seed of the woman," the
worthlessness of his fig-leaf apron. The magnitude of that which had to
be done, proved the sinner's total inability to do it. Sin had to be
put away. Could man do that? Nay, it was by him it had come in. The
serpent's head had to be bruised. Could man do that? Nay, he had become
the serpent's slave. God's claims had to be met. Could man do that?
Nay, he had already trampled them under foot. Death had to be
abolished. Could man do that? Nay, he had, by sin, introduced it, and
imparted to it its terrible sting.
Thus, in whatever way we view the matter, we see the sinner's complete
impotency, and, as a consequence, the presumptuous folly of all who
attempt to assist God in the stupendous work of redemption, as all
assuredly do who think to be saved in any other way but "by grace,
through faith."
However, though Adam might, and, through grace, did, see and feel that
he could never accomplish all that had to be done, yet God revealed
himself as about to achieve every jot and tittle thereof, by the seed
of the woman. In short, we see that he graciously took the entire
matter into his own hands. He made it, altogether, a question between
himself and the serpent; for although the man and the woman were called
upon, individually, to reap, in various ways, the bitter fruits of
their sin, yet it was to the serpent that the Lord God said, "Because
thou hast done this." The serpent was the source of the ruin; and the
seed of the woman was to be the source of the redemption. Adam heard
all this, and believed it; and, in the power of that belief, "he called
his wife's name the mother of _all living_." This was a precious fruit
of faith in God's revelation. Looking at the matter from nature's point
of view, Eve might be called, "the mother of all _dying_." But, in the
judgment of faith, she was the mother of all _living_. "His mother
called him Ben-oni; (the son of my sorrow;) but his father called him
Benjamin (the son of my right hand)."
It was through the sustaining energy of faith that Adam was enabled to
endure the terrible results of what he had done. It was God's wondrous
mercy to allow him to hear what he said to the serpent, before he was
called to listen to what he had to say to himself. Had it not been so,
he must have been plunged in despair. It is despair to be called upon
to look at myself, without being able to look at God, as revealed in
the cross, for my salvation. There is no child of fallen Adam who could
bear to have his eyes opened to the reality of what he is, and what he
has done, without being plunged in despair, unless he could take refuge
in the cross. Hence, in that place to which all who reject Christ must
finally be consigned, hope cannot come. There, men's eyes will be
opened to the reality of what they are, and what they have done; but
they will not be able to find relief and refuge in God. What God is,
will, _then_, involve hopeless perdition; as truly as what God is,
doth, _now_, involve eternal salvation. The holiness of God will, then,
be eternally against them; as it is now that in which all who believe
are called to rejoice. The more I realize the holiness of God, now, the
more I know my security; but, in the case of the lost, that very
holiness will be but the ratification of their eternal doom.
Solemn--unspeakably solemn--reflection!
We shall, now, briefly glance at the truth presented to us in God's
providing coats for Adam and Eve. "Unto Adam, also, and to his wife,
did the Lord God make coats of skins, and clothed them." We have here,
in figure, the great doctrine of divine righteousness set forth. The
robe which God provided was an effectual covering, because he provided
it; just as the apron was an ineffectual covering because man had
provided it. Moreover, God's coat was founded upon blood-shedding.
Adam's apron was not. So also, now, God's righteousness is set forth in
the cross; man's righteousness is set forth in the works, the
sin-stained works, of his own hands. When Adam stood clothed in the
coat of skin he could not say, "I was naked," nor had he any occasion
to hide himself. The sinner may feel perfectly at rest, when, by faith,
he knows that God has clothed him: but to feel at rest till then, can
only be the result of presumption or ignorance. To know that the dress
I wear, and in which I appear before God, is of his own providing, must
set my heart at perfect rest. There can be no true, permanent rest in
aught else.
The closing verses of this chapter are full of instruction. Fallen man,
in his fallen state, must not be allowed to eat of the fruit of the
tree of life, for that would entail upon him endless wretchedness in
this world. To take of the tree of life, and eat, and live forever, in
our present condition, would be unmingled misery. The tree of life can
only be tasted in resurrection. To live forever, in a frail tabernacle,
in a body of sin and death, would be intolerable. Wherefore, the Lord
God "drove out the man." He drove him out into a world which,
everywhere, exhibited the lamentable results of his fall. The Cherubim
and the flaming sword, too, forbid fallen man to pluck the fruit of the
tree of life; while God's revelation pointed him to the death and
resurrection of the seed of the woman, as that wherein life was to be
found beyond the power of death.
Thus Adam was a happier, and a safer man, outside the bounds of
Paradise, than he had been within, for this reason--that, within, his
life depended upon himself; whereas, outside, it depended upon another,
even a promised Christ. And as he looked up, and beheld "the Cherubim
and the flaming sword," he could bless the hand that had set them
there, "to keep the way of the tree of life," inasmuch as the same hand
had opened a better, a safer, and a happier way to that tree. If the
Cherubim and flaming sword stopped up the way to Paradise, the Lord
Jesus Christ has opened "a new and living way" into the holiest of all.
"I am the way, the truth, and the life; no man cometh unto the Father,
but by me." (Compare John xiv. 6; Heb. x. 20.) In the knowledge of
this, the believer now moves onward through a world which is under the
curse,--where the traces of sin are visible on all hands. He has found
his way, by faith, to the bosom of the Father; and while he can
secretly repose there, he is cheered by the blessed assurance that the
one who has conducted him thither, is gone to prepare a place in the
many mansions of the Father's house, and that he will soon come again
and receive him unto himself, amid the glory of the Father's kingdom.
Thus, in the bosom, the house, and the kingdom of the Father, the
believer finds his present portion, his future home and reward.
FOOTNOTES:
[6] There is a profoundly interesting thought suggested by comparing
the word [Greek: theiotes] (Rom. i. 20) with the word [Greek: theotes]
(Col. ii. 9.) They are both rendered "Godhead;" but they present a very
different thought. The heathen might have seen that there was something
superhuman, something divine, in creation; but pure, essential,
incomprehensible Deity dwelt in the Adorable Person of the Son.
[7] Man not only accuses God of being the author of his fall, but also
blames him for his non-recovery. How often do we hear persons say that
they cannot believe unless God give them the power to believe; and,
further, that unless they are the subjects of God's eternal decree,
they cannot be saved.
CHAPTERS IV., V.
As each section of the Book of Genesis opens before us, we are
furnished with fresh evidence of the fact that we are travelling over,
what a recent writer has well termed, "the seed-plot of the whole
Bible;" and not only so, but the seed-plot of man's entire history.
Thus, in the fourth chapter, we have, in the persons of Cain and Abel,
the first examples of a religious man of the world, and of a genuine
man of faith. Born, as they were, outside of Eden, and being the sons
of fallen Adam, they could have nothing, natural, to distinguish them,
one from the other. They were both sinners. Both had a fallen nature.
Neither was innocent. It is well to be clear in reference to this, in
order that the reality of divine grace, and the integrity of faith, may
be fully and distinctly seen. If the distinction between Cain and Abel
were founded in nature, then it follows, as an inevitable conclusion,
that they were not the partakers of the fallen nature of their father,
nor the participators in the circumstances of his fall; and, hence,
there could be no room for the display of grace, and the exercise of
faith.
Some would teach us that every man is born with qualities and
capacities which, if rightly used, will enable him to work his way back
to God. This is a plain denial of the fact so clearly set forth in the
history now before us. Cain and Abel were born, not inside, but outside
of Paradise. They were the sons, not of innocent, but of fallen Adam.
They came into the world as the partakers of the nature of their
father; and it mattered not in what phase that nature might display
itself, it was nature still,--fallen, ruined, irremediable nature.
"That which is born of the flesh is (not merely fleshly, but) flesh;
and that which is born of the Spirit is, (not merely spiritual, but)
spirit." (John iii.)
If ever there was a fair opportunity for the distinctive qualities,
capacities, resources, and tendencies of nature to manifest themselves,
the lifetime of Cain and Abel furnished it. If there were aught in
nature, whereby it could recover its lost innocence, and establish
itself again within the bounds of Eden, this was the moment for its
display. But there was nothing of the kind. They were both _lost_. They
were "flesh." They were not innocent. Adam lost his innocence and never
regained it. He can only be looked at as the fallen head of a fallen
race, who, by his "disobedience," were made "sinners." (Rom. v. 19.) He
became, so far as he was personally concerned, the corrupt source, from
whence have emanated the corrupt streams of ruined and guilty
humanity,--the dead trunk from which have shot forth the branches of a
dead humanity, morally and spiritually dead.
True, as we have already remarked, he himself was made a subject of
grace, and the possessor and exhibitor of a lively faith in a promised
Savior; but this was not any thing natural, but something entirely
divine. And, inasmuch as it was not natural, neither was it within the
range of nature's capacity to communicate it. It was not, by any means,
hereditary. Adam could not bequeath nor impart his faith to Cain or
Abel. His possession thereof was simply the fruit of love divine. It
was implanted in his soul by divine power; and he had not divine power
to communicate it to another. Whatever was natural, Adam could, in the
way of nature, communicate; but nothing more. And seeing that he, as a
father, was in a condition of ruin, his son could only be in the same.
As is the begetter, so are they also that are begotten of him. They
must, of necessity, partake of the nature of him from whom they have
sprung. "As is the earthy, such are they also that are earthy." (1 Cor.
xv. 48.)
Nothing can be more important, in its way, than a correct understanding
of the doctrine of federal headship. If my reader will turn, for a
moment, to Rom. v. 12-21, he will find that the inspired apostle looks
at the whole human race as comprehended under two heads. I do not
attempt to dwell on the passage; but merely refer to it, in connection
with the subject in hand. The fifteenth chapter of first Corinthians
will also furnish instruction of a similar character. In the first man,
we have sin, disobedience, and death. In the Second man, we have
righteousness, obedience, and life. As we derive a nature from the
former, so do we also from the latter. No doubt, each nature will
display, in each specific case, its own peculiar energies; it will
manifest, in each individual possessor thereof, its own peculiar
powers. Still, there is the absolute possession of a real, abstract,
positive nature.
Now, as the mode in which we derive a nature from the first man is by
birth, so the mode in which we derive a nature from the Second man is
by _new_ birth. Being born, we partake of the nature of the former;
being "born _again_," we partake of the nature of the latter. A
newly-born infant, though entirely incapable of performing the act
which reduced Adam to the condition of a fallen being, is,
nevertheless, a partaker of his nature; and so, also, a newly-born
child of God,--a newly-regenerated soul, though having nothing whatever
to do with the working-out of the perfect obedience of "the man Christ
Jesus," is, nevertheless, a partaker of his nature. True it is that,
attached to the former nature, there is sin; and attached to the
latter, there is righteousness,--man's sin, in the former case; God's
righteousness in the latter: yet, all the while, there is the actual,
_bona fide_ participation of a real nature, let the adjuncts be what
they may. The child of Adam partakes of the human nature and its
adjuncts; the child of God partakes of the divine nature and its
adjuncts. The former nature is according to "the will of man," (John
i.,) the latter is according to "the will of God;" as St. James, by the
Holy Ghost, teaches us, "of his own will begat he us by the word of
truth." (James i. 18.)